There was something seriously wrong with her. There had to be.
His hands shook as he moved up the steps, as he pulled the screen door open, as he stepped back into the airy, light family room and looked toward the kitchen. Her back was to him. She was pulling items from the refrigerator, setting out food he couldn’t imagine eating. An orange light from somewhere in the kitchen made the room glow, but he didn’t give a rip where it came from right now. He only cared about her.
“Why didn’t you run?”
She froze, one hand on the refrigerator door, the other inside. Light from the appliance shimmered over her in waves of gold. “What do you mean?”
“At the motel. When those daemons were attacking and I freed you. Why didn’t you run? Why did you come back?”
She turned slowly, set a block of cheese on the granite counter, pushed the refrigerator door closed with her spine. Then bit her lip and stared down at her feet. “I was going to run.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“I knew if I left, you would have died.”
“Why would that matter to you?”
“Because I didn’t want to be responsible for that. And because…you saved my life. Several times before that.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have needed saving.”
“True, I guess,” she said with a ghost of a smile. “But…”
“But what?”
Her smile faded. “But…in the motel? When we were having dinner? And we were talking? I realized we weren’t all that different. We were both running from the colony, both running from our pasts and who everyone thinks we are or should be. I don’t know. I guess I just realized you weren’t the monster I’d pegged you to be.”
He remembered that moment. How she’d asked him to let her go, and when he told her that he couldn’t because he needed her, instead of lashing out at him as he’d expected, her eyes had softened. He’d already told her several times that he needed her, but that time…that time, he’d been racked with guilt over the fact he couldn’t let her go. And she’d obviously seen it. Then she’d pushed to her feet, crossed to him, given him his first taste of something sacred he’d been craving for months.
His nerves vibrated at the memory. And then he remembered how he’d accused her of trying to seduce him to get away.
Shit. His eyes slid closed at that doozy of a memory. “Then I handcuffed you to the bed and left you.”
His voice was gruff. That guilt slithered in and grabbed on tight. He opened his eyes, forced himself to meet her expression. Didn’t deserve to hide from it.
“Yeah,” she said with a smug smile, her dark eyes lifting to his. “I was pissed about that. But…I can’t really blame you. I mean, I was planning to seduce you so I could try to get away. But then we talked and I started to understand you better and…everything changed.”
He didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t sure what to make of this. Not only was she admitting something she didn’t have to, she was doing so staring at him across the small space as if…he were nothing more than a man.
He’d never been just a man. The entirety of his life was wrapped up in being an Argonaut, a warrior, a fighter trained in honor and duty. Females had come on to him, but they’d never wanted him for who he was inside. They’d only wanted him because of his status, because screwing an Argonaut was akin to banging a celebrity in the human realm. And then…then, after he’d been sent to the Underworld, he’d lost even that. He’d become everything he despised. Someone so desperate to avoid torture, he’d sacrificed everything he’d ever believed in and done things that would horrify even the sickest bastard, all in an attempt to save his sorry ass. No one had wanted him after that. No one should want him after that.
Gryphon, gods, I want you.
No one except her.
She could have seduced him without those words, but hearing them… Reality slammed into him as he stood there staring at her. She’d wanted him. The real him. Even knowing all that other shit.
Then she’d saved his life. Brought him here. Tended his wounds.
The hole around his heart slowly started to close in. And air choked in his lungs until it was hard to draw a breath.
“Do you like grilled cheese?” she asked. “It’s my favorite comfort food.” She glanced toward the cupboards on the opposite wall of the kitchen. “I think I have tomato soup somewhere. I did some shopping while you were asleep.”
“Maelea.” His heart—a heart he was starting to think he might still have—pounded hard as he moved into the kitchen, as he stepped up behind her, as he gently turned her to face him.