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“I am,” he insisted.
“Are you though?” she repeated. Before he could protest a second time, she brushed the tip of her nose against his and added, “Maybe I find you irresistible. Ever think of that?”
His lips softened. His inhalations shallowed, and his gaze hooded. “I did think of that.”
Anticipation tingled across her nerve endings. He’d purred the words, hadn’t he? “And...?”
“And.” With a huff, he set her on her feet and severed contact. “We’re here for a reason. Let’s get it done.” He stomped off, forcing her to follow.
Dang it, where had she gone wrong?
As she caught up, he adjusted his grip on the bulky bag and asked, “What’s in this thing?”
Excellent question. She had yet to recall. “Can you not handle it? Poor baby.” Faking sympathy, she reached for the strap. “Give it to me. The all-powerful harpy will save the day, as usual.”
He angled, preventing contact. A little too quickly? “I can handle anything you toss at me, carrot.”
Her special nickname! She groaned. Already it was her kryptonite. Wait. “Do you even like carrots?”
“I do now.” Had he grumbled those words? He looked like he’d grumbled.
A group of soldiers passed them, and she snapped back to business. Showtime!
Most of the males were too busy perusing Rathbone to notice her. But some did. After giving them a practiced deer in headlights look, she ducked her head, as if too intimidated to maintain eye contact, then she stopped in the middle of the busy pathway.
Rathbone backtracked. “Have you seen enough of the world?” he asked as citizens blazed past them. He frowned when she clasped his shoulders and corrected his stance. Perfect. “May I flash us closer to the palace now?”
“Did I forget to tell you? You won’t be flashing for a while.” She offered him her cheeriest smile. “The metal won’t let you.”
His frown deepened. “What metal?”
A nanosecond later, a spear whizzed through the air and embedded in his heart. He stumbled, the backpack slipping from his shoulder. Onlookers gasped or screamed and dashed off.
Amid the throes of shock, Rathbone glanced down at his injury. The thin beam protruded from both sides of his torso. “You orchestrated this?”
“Yes, and you’re very welcome.” She beamed at him.
When he attempted to remove the weapon, spikes popped from the shaft, holding the missile in place. Blood several shades darker than his gorgeous skin trickled from the wound.
“The metal prevents teleportation of any kind,” she explained. “I know, I know. I should’ve given you a little more warning.” For her own plan to work, she’d needed an excuse to leave his side. “If it helps, there’s a second spear headed your way.”
As promised, another lance whistled between them, about to nail its mark. He ducked just in time, yanking her down with him. As he glided to his feet, he grabbed the pack and tossed her over his uninjured shoulder. Then he bounded onward, heading away from those who’d threatened his life.
Laughter escaped her as the taut globes of his backside bounced directly in front of her face. She’d expected this, but man, she hadn’t anticipated enjoying the ride so much. What a view!
“Is now a good time to mention the supertroopers are following us?” she asked casually. Unable to see his lips, she could only assume he’d answered with an affirmation. “Don’t worry. When they catch up, I’ll do the talking and save the day.”
A growl left him; she felt its vibration. Picking up the pace, he wove through the buildings, beings, and bushes in his path.
Laughing anew, she slapped his hot-buttered buns as if they were bongo drums. “Faster, faster!”
Rathbone turned a corner, hit an invisible wall, and ricocheted. Or rather, the end of the spear hit the wall, punching deeper into his chest and shoving him backward. The ensuing pulsation shattered every bone in her body. Her laughter died as searing pain wrenched a scream from her throat.
He must have experienced similar injuries. His knees buckled and down they went, hitting the ground with a hard thud. Well, well. The spearhead was clearly a detonation device.
Armed warriors closed in around them, their weapons glinting in the light. Rathbone fought to stand, fierce determination in his eyes. Her vision blurred, the gloom of unconsciousness infiltrating more and more of her mind. Still, she clocked the moment Cerise Ironclaw comprehended the hopelessness of the situation. Carmine Stormfury? No, still wrong. Whatever. He slanted his body in front of Neeka’s, acting as a formidable barrier against any attack.
He was only protecting his investment, but her foolish heart didn’t understand that. The organ skipped a beat.
