Born of Fire

Shahara wanted to answer, but the sight of him cleaned up was the only thing she could focus on.

His black pants hugged his hips and other parts in a way that was pretty much obscene and left very little to the imagination. Not that she had to imagine. She knew only too well what resided beneath that tight fabric.

Blood droned in her ears as her body became white-hot.

He’d draped his shirt over his muscular shoulder. He reminded her of some mythic god emerging from the mists. Perfect in every way. Never, ever in her life had she seen a man so gorgeous.

When she didn’t answer, Syn turned around and stared at her. “Do you mind if I have some?”

Shahara forced herself to swallow. “Go ahead.” She diverted her gaze down to her own plate and hoped he didn’t notice the color on her cheeks.

As he turned his back to her, she couldn’t resist another look at his tantalizing form. Without a doubt, he had the nicest, firmest ass she’d ever seen. And for the first time in her adult life, she wouldn’t mind a healthy serving of that rump roast.

Once he had his plate full, he joined her at the table. He took a bite, then made a terrible face.

Before she could blink, he dodged from the table to the compactor and spat his food out. Upset at his reaction to her cooking, she put her hand on her hip and gave him a chiding glare. “It’s not that bad.”

Grabbing a glass of water, he took two long, deep drinks. “No wonder you’re so skinny. I’d die of starvation too if I had to eat that.”

“Thanks a lot.”

He turned contrite. “I’m sorry. But you could have warned me it was deadly.”

Rolling her eyes, Shahara took a bite of her eggs. In all honesty she did have to agree with him. The eggs were runny and salty, the bacon burned, and the rolls wouldn’t be too bad. Provided you used them as a doorstop.

“What can I say, Tessa and Caillen are the cooks in the family, not me.”

Syn grabbed a piece of bread from the glass container on the counter and shoved it in his mouth as if he were trying to kill the taste.

She’d probably be more offended if she hadn’t grown up with Caillen being every bit as a cruel to her whenever she cooked.

“So what’s our agenda?” she asked, changing the topic.

He took another drink. “First thing, I need you to help me tape my ribs.”

“The Prinapin didn’t work?”

“Prinapin is good for minor injuries, pain, and cosmetic fixatives. But it won’t do anything for more serious injuries, such as cracked ribs. And the last thing we need is for me to puncture a lung.”

She set her fork and plate aside. “Then what are we going to do?”

“I’m going to commit suicide.”

She looked at him in shock.

“Not literally. I need to go back to my place for a few things. If I know the Rits, someone will be there watching for me. So I need to leave you here and go it alone.”

“Now wait a min—”

“Don’t argue. I was trained from birth to break into buildings without being seen. You, on the other hand—”

“Did a remarkable job breaking into your flat without your detecting me.”

“Yes, but you did get caught.”

She couldn’t argue with him there.

“It won’t take me long, then I’ll come back for you.”

Would he?

She didn’t know for sure. And she wasn’t sure how much she trusted him on that issue. “Well, I think it’s time for my shower,” she said, reaching for the clothes she’d placed in the chair beside her. “That is, if you left any hot water.”

“Nag, nag, nag.”

Shahara rolled her eyes.

“Wait,” he said, stopping her before she left the room. “My ribs.”

Some wicked, buried part of her jumped in delight at being able to touch him so intimately.

Shahara crossed the room and took the white, ribbed sterile wrap from his hand. “How do I do this?”

He opened the roll and held a piece just above his navel. “Wind it tightly about my rib cage. But please, make sure it’s not so tight that you cut off my circulation.”

Shahara did as ordered. She lightly wrapped the bandage around his upper torso, her fingers brushing against the hard, firm muscles. As her hands glided over them, she watched as they twitched and jerked in response. He really did have an amazing body . . .

Her breathing ragged, she did her best not to think about the desire throbbing like fire in her most private places. Or the chill bumps that spread over his flesh and hardened his nipples as her fingers brushed his skin.

Or her own breasts that tingled and hardened, begging for his touch.

But the worst, most torturous part of it all was the step into his arms she had to take every time she drew the roll around his back. A step that brought her breasts straight up against his hard stomach.