“Look your fill, meli,” he whispered.
Her eyes snapped to his just before she swiveled on her heels and resumed walking. “I don’t like you.”
One side of his mouth curved in amusement as he followed. She was a terrible liar, something he’d discovered early on. The knowledge thrilled him. “Yes, you do. You like me a lot.”
“I may have. Once.” She lifted a branch so she could move under it, then released it with perfect timing so it smacked him in the face.
He chuckled even as he rubbed at the sting on his cheek. He liked that she stood up to him. There wasn’t a gynaíka in Argolea who would dare try to tell him what to do. If he had to be stuck out here, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather be stuck with. The woman had to be exhausted, they’d been walking for nearly an hour, but she was determined, and she wasn’t letting it affect her mood. Every time he suggested they look in a different direction and that it was inconceivable for a child to walk this far, she’d flicked him a look and kept going.
“That is,” she added, cutting through his thoughts, “I may have liked you before you set out to seduce me and then walked out without a word.”
Ouch. “Acacia.” He stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. This wasn’t the time or place to get into it, but he had an overwhelming urge to explain what had happened that night and why he’d left.
Though why he thought he could make her understand when he was still having trouble rationalizing the whole thing was beyond him.
“What happened between us had nothing to do with why I’m here now. I didn’t know who you were then. I only learned of your identity when I went to the store to find you.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth. Look in my eyes. You’ll see that I’m not lying.”
She did. And their eyes met. Then a blush crept up her cheeks, one that told him she was remembering exactly what had happened between them.
That warmth went white-hot. Urgent and needy. So demanding it blocked out the rational side of his brain, which warned this was a bad idea.
Before he thought better of it, he reached for her other arm. “Do you believe in fate?”
“You mean like destiny?” He nodded, and she shook her head. “No. Everyone makes their own decisions.”
“But do you believe fate gives us choices, and where we go is up to us?”
Her violet eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking me this?”
What exactly could he tell her? How much did he want her to know? That her life span could probably be counted in days, not years? That she was pegged to bring about the beginning of a war that would hopefully free his people? That he was starting to suspect she was his soul mate, and aside from the sexual benefits that conjured in his mind, the idea pretty much creeped him out?
None of that sounded like anything she would believe, or understand, so he opted for what was most pressing. And figured a little bit of honesty couldn’t hurt at this point. “I think fate’s playing a trick on us. I’ve had these…strange feelings…that you and I were brought together for a reason that has nothing to do with your father.”
She leveled him with a look that was so damn sexy, he itched to kiss it from her face. “Hearing voices, are you?”
Yes. “Not exactly. It’s hard to explain.”
“Schizophrenia’s not that uncommon. Try medication.”
Smartass. “I don’t think—”
“Me either.” The humor in her eyes faded. “My so-called father brought us together because he wants something from me. That’s not fate, Theron. That’s manipulation.”
“And what do you call this…this attraction between us?”
She cocked her head. “Your problem?”
“I call it opportunity. A chance to see if fate is really pushing us toward a combined destiny. And there’s one way to know for sure.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How?”
He moved closer, barely brushing his body against hers, and felt her shudder. And oh, yeah, as far as gambles went, this was the big one. “All it takes is one night.”
She blinked twice. “Are you for real?”
“In my world, an ándras can tell if a gynaíka is his soul mate by sharing a bed.”
“Soul mate. I see. And I’m assuming the whole ‘sharing a bed’ thing would be done in the biblical sense?”
“Is there any other sense?”
She stared at him so long, his blood heated at the knowledge she was considering the offer. He imagined taking her back to the colony, peeling her clothing off one piece at a time, unwrapping the gift of her gorgeous body, then pressing her back on that soft bed and joining them in a way that would tell him for sure if she was his or merely an infatuation he’d soon get over.
The vision was so real, his pants grew tight and his heart rate kicked up in time to the beat of a snare drum. He waited for her to step to him, to ease up on her toes. To bring their mouths together and their bodies into much-needed contact.
But then she laughed. A rolling, rich sound that came from her belly and jerked him right out of the fantasy and dropped him firmly back in reality.
Her laughter went on and on, to the point a frown worked its way between his eyebrows. When she finally paused to breathe, tears were streaming down her face. She reached up to wipe her cheek. “Oh, my God. That was the best line I’ve ever heard. ‘Here, sleep with me and I’ll tell you if you’re my destiny.’ Nice one, Theron.” Still chuckling to herself, she eased out of his grip and resumed walking.
“I didn’t think it was so funny,” Theron mumbled at her back.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, waving her hands out to the sides as she walked. “That’s like the lamest thing I’ve ever heard. And I worked in a strip club, for crying out loud. I’ve heard some pretty sad come-ons!”
“Why were you there?” he asked, her comment bringing up a question he’d wondered about several times.
“Why does anyone work in a strip club? The money’s good.”
“I thought your family owned that bookstore?”
A sigh of regret slipped from her mouth, and he knew she was remembering the fire and what she’d lost. “My grandmother’s hospital bills were pretty nasty. I had to work two jobs to make ends meet.”
“About that club. Did you…? Were you…?”
“Was I what, Theron?”
The humor in her voice only aggravated him more. He stopped on the path, unsure how to voice his question. “How much money did you make?”
She stopped as well, turned his way and tapped her finger against her cheek in a thoughtful move. “Well, that depends. You know, in a place like XScream, a woman’s pay is based on job performance, and I was good. Very, very good at what I did.” A wicked smile slid across her tempting lips. “Just ask Nick.”
A spear of jealousy stabbed him in the gut.
But Argonauts didn’t get jealous. Only humans did.
And then she smiled. A grin laced with pure victory and female delight. She was playing him. And enjoying it.
“You weren’t a dancer.” His eyes ran over her svelte body, and the relief that rushed through him was swift and consuming. “I can’t see you taking your clothes off for strange men for any amount of money.”
She only rolled her eyes and resumed walking. “I did it for you, didn’t I? And for free, no less. And you’re the biggest stranger of them all.”
“Acacia.” He gripped her arm again, stopping her. As he turned her his way, a voice in his head screamed, Keep your mouth shut, but he couldn’t. “Three thousand years ago, when Zeus set aside Argolea for our race, Hera played her cruelest practical joke.”