Industrious little thing.
Despite his resolve to keep things impersonal and his determination to stick to the plan, he couldn’t stifle the spurt of warmth seeping through his chest somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. She was cleaning his room, seeing to his comfort. Her courage and her spirit had called to him. Her beauty, the scent of her, the curve of her smile, her lush body, hell even the freckles on her face, drove him insane with lust. But this kindness despite their brief and oftentimes tense acquaintance touched him.
Why?
He had no friggin’ clue.
What he did know, with blinding clarity, was that if he could have had any woman for his own, any woman in the world, he would have chosen this one. He knew it as he’d never known another truth. He would have chosen Maggie.
And he could never have her.
The anger crept up on him, insidious. Debilitating. The rage inside him began to stir, and the beast reared its ugly head.
Nostrils flared, teeth gritted, Gideon clamped down hard and fast on the monster, shoving wants and desires down deep, burying them beneath a mountain of indifference. He pushed from the doorway and strode into the room.
“What are you doing?” Ice crystals dripped from his tone.
She bobbled the broom, throwing her arms out to balance herself. “Oh, goodness,” she gasped. “You startled me.”
“I asked you a question. What do you think you’re doing?”
She glanced around, as if the evidence should be obvious. “I know you gave up your room for me.” She climbed down from the chair and set the broom aside, brushing dust from her hands. “So I thought…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at the severe frown on his face.
She cleared her throat, lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and pushed on. “I thought, since you agreed to teach me to defend myself…and well, with the paints and the exercise equipment…and you gave up your room for me…” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “I was just trying to show my appreciation. This was all I could think of.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, deadpan.
“But this room is filthy!” She took a step in his direction, only to pull up short, as if she’d thought better of approaching him. “You can’t stay here in this—”
Gideon gave a very dramatic, totally unnecessary flourish of his hand and conjured the room spotless. New curtains framed the now gleaming windows. Fresh bedding covered the perfectly made bed. Neither a speck of dust, nor a cobweb was to be seen.
He arched a sarcastic brow. “Happy?”
Her breath caught as she swiftly spun in a circle, taking in his mad housekeeping skills. Slowly, she turned back to face him. “If you could do that, why were you sleeping in this room with it the way it was?”
“Are you ready to go?”
Her lips tightened in a flat line, and her eyes narrowed. After a moment of deep breathing, she said in a very polite, very clipped tone, “I just need to wash up a bit.”
He gave another dramatic, sarcastic flourish, conjuring her clean.
“Ready now, darlin’?”
Temper flared to life, sparkling in her eyes. Before she could explode, Gideon pulled in his power, focusing on the mental picture of her little bungalow in the suburbs. The bedroom fell away, and the grass of her backyard solidified beneath his feet.
He watched as she materialized nearby, wobbling on unsteady legs. Her face had lost every last drop of color. Squelching the urge to reach for her, to steady her, to apologize, he marched past her and headed toward the house.
“One hour and not a second more,” he bit out, not letting himself so much as glance her way. “Better hop to it.”
“Jackass,” she hissed beneath her breath and stomped after him.
Despite his determination not to bend, a slow, appreciative grin curved the edges of his mouth.
That’s my girl.
Chapter Nine
The moment Gideon cleared the doorway, he knew something was wrong. He came to an abrupt stop, but it was too late. Maggie was already inside.
“Gideon, wait,” she cried. “Something here is wrong! I can feel it.”
A dark chuckle echoed through the living room. “So the Halfling has powers of her own? Perhaps I’ll have to spend a bit of time with her before turning her over to Stolas.”
Mortika?.
The memory of a crushed, blackened ball of gold and fractured jewels came to mind. That amulet would have made it possible for him to touch the woman beside him. He could have kept Maggie, could have taken her as his mate. Could have spent an eternity in her arms. Mortika? had stolen more from Gideon than he’d realized.