There had to be some way to get him to help her. He was the only one who could read that book and by all the conviction inside her, she wasn't going to take no for an answer.
At the end of the day, she was a Kafieri and no one told a Kafieri no. "You can run from me all you want, Mr. Parthenopaeus, but you won't be able to hide. You will give me what I want." She was going to make sure of it.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ash did his best to get Tory out of his mind, but it was impossible. There was just something about her that beckoned him.
He hated that.
But not half as much as he hated the way he'd bailed on her like a coward the day before. He kept telling himself it was for the best and yet he couldn't quite convince himself of it. There was something about being around her that was comforting which given her normal hostility toward him made no sense whatsoever.
Now he sat up on the roof of the house he was helping to build, trying to clear his head and get back to business.
Someone touched his foot. He glanced up to see Karl in front of him. Ash pulled one of the earbuds out. "Yeah?"
"Visitor."
Assuming it was one of his associates in New Orleans, Ash set down his hammer and headed for the ladder. It wasn't until he was halfway down that he saw Tory waiting for him. Her hair was pulled forward into wavy pigtails. She wore a long beige skirt and brown blazer.
But it was her large brown eyes that seared him.
Looking at them and not at what he was doing, he missed a step and went slamming down the ladder, straight to the ground where he landed in a most embarrassing lump that wasn't helped when the ladder then fell across him, drawing all eyes to his clumsy stupidity. Pain hit him hard in his back, hip and shoulder as he struggled to find some semblance of dignity.
Given the way he was sprawled, it was actually hopeless. Sighing, he moved the ladder off his legs.
Tory came running over to kneel beside him. "Are you all right?"
The answer had been yes until she placed her hand on his chest. In this position, all he could think of was pulling her across him and making use of her hand for something much more pleasurable.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Then he glanced around at the other people staring at him in concern. His face heated in embarrassment. "I'm fine, everyone," he said louder. "Just a small slip."
They went back to work while he wanted to make himself invisible. He never did stuff like this.
"You should be more careful," Tory said in a chiding tone. What happened to her concern for him? Obviously it'd gone the way of his last vestige of dignity. "You could have broken your neck or as big as you are landed on someone and killed them."
Okay . . . the woman was nuts.
"What are you doing here, Tory?" He rolled over and pushed himself up, then realized he'd done some real damage to his leg as it throbbed painfully in protest at being used again. It was all he could do not to grunt or limp.
Her smile dazzled him. "I've come to tempt you."
It was too late, she already had and he knew she didn't mean it the way he did. "I can't be tempted."
"Yes, you can. All people can be tempted."
But he wasn't a person. He picked the ladder up and returned it to its previous position. Then he went to pick up the nails that had spilled out of his tool belt. When he started back toward the ladder, she planted herself firmly in his way.
"Tory . . ." he growled.
"Look, I'll be honest, there has never in the whole history of mankind been a more stubborn human being born than me."
"Yes, there has. Me."
When he started around her, she ran around him to the ladder and put herself on the first rung. He should be pissed as hell and yet she was so adorable standing there in her long skirt and flats with one arm wrapped around the rung over her head that it was all he could do not to smile at her. "Fine, you don't have to translate it. Just teach me how and I'll leave you alone. If it helps, I'm a really quick learner."
He ground his teeth in frustration. "I don't like arguing. I don't like conflicts. I basically like to be left alone to do my thing and that doesn't include teaching you anything. Now do you mind?"
"Please . . ." her expression was the hottest mixture of cute pleading and raw seduction that he'd ever seen. "I'll be your baklava slave until I die."
He scowled. "My what?"
"Baklava slave. I make the best you've ever tasted and I'll keep you supplied in it until you're fat and old."
"I don't eat baklava."
"That's because you've never had mine. Unless you're allergic to nuts, you'll love it."
He tried to pry her loose from the ladder, but true to her words, she wouldn't be moved. His anger snapped. How could he be one of the most powerful beings in the universe and not be able to move a single frail women out of his way?
She made her eyes look like a sad puppy. "Please, Acheron," she said in Greek. Then she switched to English. "Three days and then you'll never have to see me again. Tell me what you want in exchange and I'll do it."