“Now, Quinn. Call for Cupid now,” Khristos murmured, and this time, it was an urgent demand. “Close your eyes and picture his arrow.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, she listened to her instincts, saw this imaginary arrow in her head in the way she’d always daydreamed, and mentally summoned Cupid.
Just as the image of the arrow faded from her mind’s eye, Khristos squeezed her shoulders. “Look quickly, Quinn!”
Her eyes popped open, and in that moment, the most magical moment she’d experienced to date, she saw the arrow, soaring over the midnight sky like a firework, illuminated in a haze of shimmering white and pink. It landed in its target, disappearing into the left side of his chest then exploding in a fountain-like shower of sparks and color.
As the sparks framed their images, the woman held out her hand to the man—a simple gesture, but one filled with so much faith, Quinn had to keep from shouting at him to take it—take it and run as far and as fast as he could.
Please, God. Please let him take her hand. Quinn didn’t understand the compelling nature of her request, there was no rhyme or reason to why she was sure it was crucial this man agreed to go with this woman, but she knew it was—to the depths of her soul, she knew.
And he did, gripping it tight in a shaky grab of flesh meeting flesh, and then the tiny woman said to him as though she had no clue he’d been about to take his own life, “It’s pretty dark out here. Would you mind waiting with me while I call a cab?”
The man nodded, his mussed hair spiking in the cold wind picking up from the water. They trailed off hand in hand, winding their way down along the bridge until they were gone.
And suddenly, Quinn felt at peace, at total ease. She relaxed back into Khristos’s grip and sighed a happy sigh at this turn of events. An event she hadn’t just read about in a book. This had really happened, and she’d been a part of it.
Scenery is fine, but human nature is finer, flitted through her head.
“Nice job, Quinn. Well executed shot, too.”
She mentally sent up a thank you to Cupid, blowing a kiss to the heavens. Then she turned to Khristos and smiled, fighting tears, forgetting she was angry with his assessment of her life. “That was amazing. The most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
He chuckled, his laughter filtering to her ears, warming her. “It can be pretty incredible, and you made it happen.”
But then a thread of fear shivered along her spine. “Why was he considering taking his life?”
Khristos’s voice grew distant as he looked past her head and out into the expanse of the city’s skyline. “I don’t know all the particulars on this one, Quinn. I just know, in this case, he needed someone. That someone was the woman who found the kitten. The right woman to help him through whatever it is he’s going through. He’s going to be fine now. They’re going to be fine and so will the little guy.”
Quinn breathed a sigh of relief and happiness, still caught up in the joy of the moment. “How utterly and extraordinarily beautiful. Two random strangers cross paths, and poof—magic.”
Running a finger long the line of her nose, he smiled and nodded. “Yep, poof.”
Complete joy swept over her at this miracle that had occurred right under her nose, making her forget everything but this very second, one she would always cherish.
“Thank you,” she whispered in awe. In her excitement, Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close.
She didn’t mean to shudder a breath of contentment when his scent reached her nose. She didn’t mean for her hands to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, or luxuriate in the thick softness of it against her cold fingers. She didn’t mean to sigh when his large body met hers.
And she definitely hadn’t meant to graze his lips—his firm but soft lips. But graze she did when she began to pull away from his embrace and their mouths brushed.
The sweet sting of longing jolted her with a sharp tug, and then Khristos’s lips covered hers, his hands winding around her waist and up along her back until she was molded tight against his tall, well-muscled frame.
For the briefest of seconds, something deep inside Quinn shifted, rooted around for a new place to settle, making her pulse race and her mouth open wider, accepting the silky taste of his tongue.
Her nipples tightened, tingling with need. The rigid outline of him, pressing at the apex of her thighs, made her breathing hitch.
He was all man, all hard, all everything.
If ever there was a perfect kiss, this was it. Soft, hard, deep, and delicious.
Her eyes would have rolled to the back of her head at such bliss—but in her almost swoon, her foot slipped off the curb and she fell backward.
“Quinn!” Khristos yelped as she began to tip sideways in what felt like a slow-motion action.
Which was odd, she thought on her way down.
It had been an amazing kiss, but one worthy of leaving her flat-out on the pavement in face-plant fashion?
Not quite.
Though, she’d be willing to try it again—just to test the theory.
Chapter 8