"My God." She let out a nervous laugh. "You're gorgeous."
"No, not gorgeous. I was bred for war." He swept his hand down his chest. "This body is merely a reflection of what was required to fulfill my purpose."
Harley tilted her head and studied him. Her gaze caressed his skin and left a trail of heat in the wake of her perusal.
He wished she'd move closer so he could wrap his hand around the tender column of her throat. He wanted to feel the wild beating of her pulse against his palm. As if she'd heard him, she took several steps into the room, but stopped too far away for him to touch her. He curled his fingers.
Patience. He refused to send her running. He'd waited too long for her...and freedom.
She leaned closer. "I've fantasized about you for years, and this..." She ran her fingertips over his cheek. "This face is more captivating than any I could've imagined."
The rightness he'd experienced nine years ago returned, stronger than before. He wanted Harley's lips on his. Needed it. "Kiss me."
She shook her head.
"Harley." He waited until she met his gaze. "Kiss me."
"Calan, I want..." Harley stopped herself before she begged him to love her. What they were doing was wrong on so many levels, but she needed his smoky taste on her lips one more time. A kiss. Just a kiss. That was all. She sifted her fingers through the strands of his hair and leaned closer until only a hairbreadth separated them. "You. I want you."
"Harley, my beautiful flower, I want you too."
"Picture me, and I can come to you for a little while."
She visualized his gorgeous body, recalled the feel of his hard muscles under her fingertips, and the thump of his heart against her palm. Colors added to the rapidly expanding image crouched next to her. He wore the ancient clothes she'd seen him in hours ago. The ugly black pants and brown shirt stretched over his body. She took in his bulging biceps and thick thighs folded next to her hip. Her breath escaped in a long rush.
He leaned over her and pressed his fingers to her cheek. Roughened, warm, real, even if he wasn't exactly with her. He could touch her. Her heart raced more at the possibilities of what that meant.
"Not a god, only the child of one." He dragged his fingertips across her jaw. "Have you figured it out yet?"
"Harley." Calan captured her face between his hands. "Decide. Let me worship you or let me go."
"Worship." She linked her arms around his neck. "Please, touch me."
His grin turned her heart over. With the hands she suspected had killed countless fairies, he lowered her to the floor.
His heated gaze focused on her body. "You are beautiful. Made for loving. Made for me, my Harley."
*excerpts modified for language. All rights reserved. Nancy Corrigan
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