Her hands trembled, and she quickly released his hair and stepped back. A lump formed in her throat, one that made it hard to swallow. Swiping her hands along the edge of the oversize T-shirt he’d given her, she turned quickly for the back of the salon and forced her tongue to work. “There’s a shower through here. You’ve got hair all over you. Go get cleaned up while I find you a towel.”
Leather creaked as he pushed his big body out of the swivel chair. She found a closet and pulled the door open, busily searching for that towel, telling herself the entire time that she was walking a dangerous line.
Falling for Nick? Krónos’s son? No. That wasn’t possible. That wasn’t even sane. She’d helped him because it was the right thing to do. Cut his hair because he hadn’t had it cut once in the months he’d been trapped in Zagreus’s lair. And she’d fucked him because…well, he was hot. She was still a female with needs. And sex was a natural, physical reaction to the adrenaline rush they’d both been through. She hadn’t done that because she felt anything for him. Because, dammit, she wasn’t falling for him. No way in hell.
“Cynna.”
She drew up sharply at the sound of his voice directly at her back and smacked her head against the shelf above. Pain spiraled across her scalp, and she reached up, rubbing the suddenly sore spot. “Skata.”
His large hand closed over hers, and before she realized what he was doing, he turned her around and pulled her into all his warm, muscular perfection.
Heat infused her skin, and the natural scent of him—earthy scents of sandalwood and pine—filled her senses. As did the musky remnants of the sex they’d shared only minutes ago.
His hand opened, splayed against her lower spine, then fisted the soft cotton of his shirt against her back. “Thank you,” he mumbled into her hair as he held her immobile against him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.” Then softer, “Thank you.”
That lump in her throat grew even larger, and though she tried to fight it, her eyes slid closed, and she drew his scent deep into her soul, every inch of him, as much as she could get, until she felt giddy and lightheaded from just his simple touch.
Oh gods. She was falling for him, dammit. For someone she had no right to even look twice at. For someone who shouldn’t want to be anywhere near her. Their being anything other than enemies made absolutely no sense. And she had zero hope for any kind of future with him beyond tonight. None. The smartest play for her was to leave—no, to run, as he’d told her to do before—right this very second.
He lifted his palm from her scalp, slid his fingers down her bare arm, leaving tingles in his wake, then grasped her hand. “Come shower with me.”
Yes. Oh gods. Her entire body tightened with the need to feel him deep inside again. Yes…
No!
Her pulse raced in her ears. Conflicting thoughts swirled in what was left of her gray matter. If she went with him, and he showed her even a fraction of the kindness he was showering on her now, she’d be totally lost. Give in. Step right off that cliff and not care where she landed. And if that happened, that wall she’d erected to hold herself together since her parents’ death would ignite like kindling consumed by flame.
It had taken her a long time to come out of that depression-induced spiral. If she let herself fall all the way for Nick, she knew she’d end up right back in that murky abyss. And considering the last time she’d been there she’d made a deal with the Prince of Darkness, there was no telling what awful thing she’d do when this fucked-up relationship imploded.
She swallowed hard and pressed her hand against his chest. “Go start the water. I’ll grab towels.”
“Okay.” He released his grip on her shirt. Stepped back. And shot her a wicked-hot look laced with…oh skata…more of that fucking awe that was chipping away at her very last bit of resolve. “Don’t be long.”
He walked away, his bootsteps pounding against the tile floor in time with the pulse throbbing in her arteries. And as she watched the muscles in his back ripple beneath his scarred skin as he left, she knew he was every bit the warrior she’d pegged him to be from the start. Every time she thought about the constant struggle he was waging inside, every time she remembered the misery on his face in that courtyard, she wanted to go to him, to comfort him, to be for him what no one else had ever been. But she couldn’t. Not if she had any hope of surviving herself. And right now, self-preservation needed to be foremost in her mind. Because if it wasn’t…
If it wasn’t, she knew exactly where she’d end up.
As soon as he turned the corner, she dropped the towel in her hand and sprinted for the door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN