Julian's head ached from all the information she unloaded, and the words she used that didn't make sense to him. "Is that a problem?"
"Just a little scary," she said, her hand shaking. "He's a stalker who was released from the mental ward."
"Stalker from a mental ward? What is that?"
As she explained it to him, he actually gaped. "You let these people loose on your society?"
"Well, yes. The idea is to help them."
Julian was aghast. What kind of world was this that the men in it refused to protect their women and children from such? "Where I come from, we didn't let people like that near our families. And we damn sure didn't let them loose on our streets."
"Welcome to the twenty-first century," she said bitterly. "Here, we do things a little differently."
Julian shook his head as he thought about all the things in this time that were so alien to him. He just couldn't comprehend these people and the way they lived. "I really don't belong here," he said under his breath.
"Julian…"
He pulled away as she reached for him. "Grace, you know it's true. Let's say we break the curse; what good does it do me? What am I supposed to do here? I can't read your language. I can't drive your car, or work. There's so much I don't comprehend. I'm lost here."
Grace flinched at the underlying anguish he was trying so hard to conceal. "You're just overwhelmed by it all. But we'll take it in tiny steps. I can teach you to drive and read. As for work… I know there are things you can do."
"Such as?"
"I don't know. Other than be a soldier, what else did you do in Macedonia?"
"I was a commander, Grace. All I know how to do is lead an ancient army into battle. That's it."
She cupped her hands around his face, and gave him a hard stare. "Don't you dare give up on this. You said you weren't afraid in battle, then how can you be afraid of this?"
"I just am."
Something strange happened then as Grace realized he had let her inside him. Not very deep, but she could tell by his face that he had made himself vulnerable to her by admitting that. She knew in her heart that he wasn't the kind of man who often made such admissions. "I will help you."
The doubt in those blue eyes twisted her gut. "Why?"
"We're friends," she said gently as she brushed his cheek with her thumb. "Isn't that what you told Cupid?"
"And you heard his response. I don't have any friends."
"You do now."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then pulled her against him into a tight hug. The warm scent of sandalwood filled her head as she listened to his heart beating fiercely under her cheek while his tanned biceps flexed next to her face. His tender embrace went deeper than just a momentary physical gesture, it touched her profoundly.
"All right, Grace," he said quietly. "We'll try this. But just promise me that you won't let me hurt you."
She frowned up at him.
"I'm serious. Once I'm shackled, don't release me for any reason. Swear it."
"But-"
"Swear it!" he insisted sternly.
"All right. If you can't control yourself, I won't let you go. But I want you to make a promise to me."
He pulled back and looked at her skeptically, but left his soothing arms around her. "What?"
Grace braced her hands against the strength of his biceps. She felt chills spread over his arms the instant her palms made contact with his flesh. He glanced down at her hands with one of the tenderest expressions she'd ever seen.
"Promise me that you won't give up on being free," she said. "I want you to try to beat this curse."
He gave an odd half-smile. "Very well. I shall try."
"And you will succeed."
He laughed at that. "You have the optimism of a child."
She returned his smile. "Peter Pan all the way."
"Peter who?"
Reluctantly, she withdrew from his arms. Taking his hand, she led him toward the bedroom door. "Come with me, my Macedonian love-slave, and I will tell you of Peter Pan and his Lost Boys."
"So, this boy never grew up?" Julian asked as they made dinner.
Grace was actually amazed he hadn't complained when she asked him to make a salad. He seemed to like using knives on food.
Unwilling to investigate that little idiosyncrasy, she concentrated on her spaghetti sauce. "Nope. He went back to the island with Tinker Bell."
"Interesting."
Grace dipped a spoon into the sauce. Cupping her hand under it, she blew across the top of it, then took it over to Julian. "Tell me what you think."
He bent down and opened his mouth.
Grace fed it to him and watched the way he savored it. "It's delicious."