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The bed creaked behind her. “Out the window. Three hundred feet. At least. I already looked. If you’re searching for an escape route, that’s not it.”

She flicked a look over her shoulder. “If I wanted to leave, you couldn’t stop me.”

“Who told you such a lie?”

She glared at him. His eyebrows lifted in challenge. Aggravated beyond belief, she finally dropped her arms and turned his way. “Why you pompous piece of—”

He chuckled as he swung his massive legs over the side of the bed. “I see we have both feet back on solid ground. Your rest did you good.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“I can also see your little brain’s filled to the brim. Go ahead and ask me whatever you want.”

Her “little brain” was nearly at a breaking point. “Are you not bothered at all by the fact you kidnapped me and destroyed my store? Not to mention taking advantage of me that night at my house when I was only trying to help you?”

He let out a weary sigh. “I didn’t kidnap you, I rescued you. And if it makes you feel any better, I regret that your store was destroyed. The less the humans in your town know of the daemons and our war, the safer they’ll be. And for the record, I wasn’t the one taking advantage the other night. I seem to remember someone else making the first move.”

Her cheeks heated. But just as quickly her temper reared. “ ‘Anything I want,’ ” she mocked.

A sheepish one-sided grin pulled at his mouth. “You remember that, hm?”

“Of course I remember it,” she snapped. “In fact, it’s a lot clearer now than it was then. You tricked me.”

He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees. “It’s called élencho. And it’s more of a mind-bending technique than a trick. Though as you’ve proved, meli, it doesn’t work so well on half-breeds.”

She ignored that fact because it seemed to be true and because it put the blame of what had happened between them back on her. “You say that word, half-breed, like it’s dirty.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“Then watch how you say it. And for the record, I think they prefer to be called Misos.”

He looked up at her without responding. And the hint of regret in his eyes softened her.

Dammit, she wanted to stay mad at him. But when he gazed at her like that, all she could think about was the way he’d looked in the candlelight of her kitchen, the way he’d tasted and felt on her couch. The way she knew he could make her feel now if she crossed the floor right this minute.

“Is there something you want from me, meli?” he asked in a low voice.

Her eyes flicked up to his. And she saw her own desire mirrored in those pools of obsidian.

Sex as a distraction from all the crazy stuff happening had its advantages. But not with him. She’d learned her lesson where this hero was concerned.

“Not a single thing.”

He smiled then, as if he knew she was lying. “When you’re ready, just tell me.”

She glared at him again. “I don’t think so.”

A chuckle bubbled through him. “Oh, meli. I do like you. You weren’t nearly so spirited that night at your house.”

She sent him a bored look. “I was a little distracted. I thought you were dying. And what does that word mean? You keep using it. Meli. My grandmother used it now and then.”

“She did?”

She nodded as a thought occurred. “She told me once it was my mother’s nickname.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “It’s Argolean. Loosely translated, it means beloved.”

“Then how would my mother have known it?”

“Maybe it was a nickname from your father.”

She lifted her brow. “My father the king? Uh-huh. Right. So how does this work? There aren’t enough Argolean women in your world? The men have to come hunting for human women?”

He laughed again and ran a hand across the nape of his neck, very much amused at something she didn’t find the least bit funny. “No, there are plenty of females in our world. We call them gynaíkes.”

“That’s Greek.”

He nodded. “A lot of our words come from the Greek root. As for your father, I told you some of our people cross over, though it’s not encouraged.”

“You can’t stop them?”

“It’s not my job to stop them. Your father…liked to visit. He’s always been fascinated by humans.”

“But you’re not.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer.

The visions she’d glimpsed earlier flashed in her brain, but she knew instinctively, if she brought it up he wouldn’t talk about it. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what made him tick either.

She snorted and turned her attention back to the sunrise. “Then definitely don’t call me meli. We both know you don’t mean it.”

“Acacia—”

“And before I forget, just what do you think you’re doing in my bed?”

“Do you like having me in your bed?” he asked quietly.

A tingling ignited in Casey’s chest. She glanced briefly over her shoulder and regretted it immediately. The same carnal desire that was suddenly careening through her veins all over again was carved into each hollow and plane of his handsome face.

Oh, yeah, this guy was a sex god all right. And he was playing her good.

“I like your eyes on me, meli. It makes the blood pound in my veins. But more than your eyes, I would much rather have your hands caressing me the way they were that night on your couch.”

Her heart rate kicked up at the memory. Arousal colored her cheeks and spread warmth between her thighs. She sensed herself falling into the same trance she’d been in with him once before. The heat from his body, the scent of his skin, the sultry sound of his accent all coalesced to turn her to mush right in front of him.

He held out a hand, beckoning her forward. “Come here, meli. Let me remind you.”

Her gaze dropped to his hand, and she remembered the way he’d held his hand out to her in the store like that just yesterday. Then remembered the flash of uncertainty she’d seen in his eyes.

A hero who knew what he wanted would never be nervous. Which meant only one thing: he wasn’t being honest.

The sexual fuzz cleared from her brain, and she brought her chin up in defiance. “Nice try. Fortunately, I’m not stupid enough to fall for that twice in this lifetime.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, I think it’s time you answered some of my questions.”

He let out a long, weary sigh and dropped his arm. “What else do you want to know?”

That was easy. Careful. She tipped her head. “What exactly is an Argonaut? Nick said you were a guardian. Is that like a general?”

“Do you know the story of the original Argonauts?”

“From Greek mythology? Sure. They were the band of heroes who sailed with Jason on the Argo in search of the Golden Fleece. There were fifty, if I remember correctly.”

“Fifty-five. They are, technically, the founders of our race. Mostly men. Some women, though there were other heroes who didn’t sail with Jason but who also fell into that category. Their offspring became known as Argoleans, named after the realm the gods granted us when it became evident the heroes were reproducing.” Casey eased down into a chair as he spoke. “The original strongest seven—Heracles, Achilles, Theseus, Odysseus, Perseus, Jason and Bellerophon—were chosen as the race’s guardians and were therefore granted the title Argonaut. In every generation, one from the original seven bloodlines is chosen to continue the guardian tradition. My line goes back to Heracles.” A wry smile curled his mouth. “Or as you Americans prefer to call him, Hercules.”