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Watch the little beauty…bathe? He swiped a hand over his gaping mouth. He’d never watched a female bathe, and he thought he might kill to do so now.
Need to see her.
Need to see her wet.
“There’s no water in this realm.” A reality he suddenly lamented.
“Then why do I sense it?”
She was able to sense water? A fact he hadn’t known. “You are always right? Never wrong?” he asked, curious.
A tinkling laugh with the slightest edge escaped her, teasing his ears. “Hardly. I was mistaken once. The time I thought I was mistaken.” She disappeared inside the confines of the bathroom. Only seconds later, she squealed with delight. “Oh, look. I was right again, as expected. We have an endless spout.”
Heat lanced his spine. What other things delighted her?
Inner shake. Endless spouts were a myth. Weren’t they?
He strode into the ensuite, propelled by a force greater than himself, only to jerk to a halt. The goddess stood in a spacious shower stall, a vision in her slinky white gown. The hem raised as she reached overhead to toy with the nozzle.
“Once activated, it should work with simple voice commands.” As she pressed symbols around the base of the spout, clear water came bursting out, soaking her. She erupted into peals of laughter, another tinkling melody he found charming and irritating in equal measure.
Still grinning, she pivoted to confront him. So beautiful, his chest ached. So sexy, his shaft threatened to rampage past his zipper.
The fabric of her dress became transparent when wet. The sight of her robbed him of breath.
“Oops,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “You seem to have a little drool at the side of your mouth.”
Did he? Hunger gnawing at him, he reached up to pat his mouth without looking away from her. Dry. “You lied about something so trivial?” He slitted his eyes. Whoever lied about small things lied about all things. How many other untruths had she told him?
“I most certainly did not lie. You have metaphorical drool on your face. It’s not my fault you don’t know the difference. By the way, I’m glad you decided to watch.” She traced her fingertips to her lips. “Are you ready for the show of a lifetime?”
By some miracle, he managed to lift his gaze to hers. She wouldn’t really do it. His heart thudded. Would she?
Challenge sizzled between them. With slow, languid movements, she unfastened her shoulder straps. The waterlogged top swooshed down, hanging from her midriff, where cinched material held the skirt in place.
She would.
His legs shook. She wore no bra, her lush curves on exquisite display. A butterfly tattoo glittered on her torso, its wings stretching from her shoulders to the waist of her dress, where the image disappeared.
The things he longed to do to this female…
No! He had worked hard on his core of iron, ensuring his resolve remained forever unshakable. Over the centuries, myriad demons had tortured him, but none had broken him. The goddess wouldn’t succeed where so many others had failed.
Derive pleasure from the one he despised? No. “Your game will fail. I’ll never crave you the way McCadden did. You’ll never direct me.”
“Say that again when I’m fully naked.” She reached behind her, loosening the skirt. A skirt she held in place. “Neither of us will believe you, but we’ll get to laugh about it later.”
Brochan went motionless, his every muscle knotting. She wouldn’t take this interlude further, wouldn’t drop the material and bare her body to the beast who’d imprisoned her in a wasteland.
But she did. The dress smacked on the stall floor. Suddenly, Viola stood before him clad in only a pair of black high heels and a sleepy, come-hither smile.
He…she… Different urges surfaced, each more frenzied than the last. He frothed at the mouth to strip and join her. To press her against the tile and...do things. To hear her cry his name again and again and again.
Treacherous seductress.
Resist!
“You were saying?” she prompted, winding a lock of hair around her finger. “Something about my game failing.”
He grated, “I won’t bed you or pardon you for the crimes you committed against my brother. You ruined a precious life for the sake of your pride and a devil-dog.” A reminder for her as much as himself.
“Yes, I did,” she said, surprising him with her honesty once again. She ducked under the spray, droplets sluicing from head to toe, momentarily mesmerizing him. “But you have no right to judge. You do the same, and you can’t deny it. You’ll cross any line to aid your loved one.”
He couldn’t deny it.
“Besides.” She ran her fingers through her wet hair. “Everyone says I’m incredibly brave for my actions.”
Look away. Just look away. A command from his fraying control. A command he did not heed. He tilted his chin instead, eyeing her through his lashes. “Are you everyone in this scenario?” Steam began enveloping her, reality morphing into every fantasy he’d never allowed himself to entertain—for more than a few minutes at a time. “I think you’re everyone,” he croaked.
