Aidan, the mystery man, who acted as if they had been dating forever and said next to nothing about himself.
He was right. They needed to talk, because she needed answers.
Dried and dressed, her mouth watering at the thought of hot fresh coffee, Lyssa found her living room restored to its former furniture arrangement and Aidan leaning like a sex god against the counter, laughing into the phone.
She paused, arrested by the sound, one that was both deep and light, and endlessly seductive. It was the kind of rumbling laughter that made a woman think of passionate play in bed, rolling and laughing amid warm tumbled sheets, lost in the moment.
His mouth curved on one side as he stared at her, his gaze dipping to cruise the length of her body, heating her blood. “Here she is, Cathy,” he murmured, straightening. “All in one piece, and looking amazing.”
Lyssa’s eyes widened. She’d thought he was talking to a friend. Maybe letting someone know he had arrived without trouble. She never would have guessed her mother.
She stepped closer, and he covered the receiver with his hand. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I was going to ignore it. Then she threatened to call the police if you didn’t pick up.”
Shaking her head, Lyssa collected the phone, trying to ignore the thrill she felt when their fingers touched. She turned away from him to hide her reaction. “Hi, Mom.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.” She jumped as strong hands clasped her waist. Then firm, warm lips pressed against the side of her neck. She leaned backward, soaking up his attention.
“I’m sweaty,” he whispered, stepping back. But his touch didn’t leave her. “We really need to talk, Lyssa.”
She nodded her understanding.
“Don’t tell me ‘nothing,’” her mother chastised with unmistakable eagerness. “Who is Aidan?”
Lyssa thought about that a moment, and then, feeling impish, she thrust her hips back and brushed against Aidan’s cock. His breath hissed out between his teeth, and he released her.
“Cold shower for me,” he muttered, heading for the stairs. “You’re paying for that later.”
Laughing, Lyssa said into the phone, “He’s an old friend.”
“From where? He sounds Irish.”
“Delicious, isn’t it? I’ve always loved men with accents.”
“Why haven’t I met him before?” Cathy asked in an accusatory tone.
“Long-distance. Besides, I’m old enough to have friends you don’t vet first.”
“I want to meet him.”
“I’m sure you do.” Lyssa glanced at the clock. “Oh crap! It’s ten. I’m due at the clinic. I gotta go.”
“Lyssa Ann Bates! You can’t—”
Dropping the receiver in the cradle, Lyssa turned too quickly and knocked her purse to floor. She retrieved it and was about to toss it onto the counter when a twinkle of colored light drew her eye. It was then she noted the slim, jewel-encrusted volume on the counter below the bar. For a moment, Lyssa could only stare at it in awe. Then she gripped her purse tighter with one hand, while reaching out tentatively for the book with the other. Lifting it, she revealed another beneath that one, though the second volume lacked ornamentation and had only a worn, leath-erlike cover.
She wasn’t a jeweler, didn’t even own that many pieces of jewelry, but she knew, just knew, that she was staring at something priceless. Guessing the age of the odd, almost-material-feeling paper and seeing the foreign text, Lyssa couldn’t help but wonder what these books were doing outside a museum. She examined every page of the jeweled volume, ran her fingertips over every illustration, and understood nothing. But the worth of both books was firmly established in her mind, which left a troubling question—what was Aidan doing with them?
Suddenly the oddness of his unannounced appearance at her door, feverish and without luggage, wearing clothes far too big and telling her far too little, struck home with enough force to make her gasp and lean against the breakfast bar.
Who the hell was the sword-wielding man in her shower, and what the fuck did he want with her?
Chapter 9
Determined to tackle her gorgeous problem head on, Lyssa took the stairs two at a time. She sprinted into her room just in time to catch a still wet Aidan stepping naked from the bathroom, his arms lifted to towel-dry his hair, his pectorals and abs flexing in a way that made her mouth water. She skidded to a halt. “I…you…you’re…Oh man…yum…”
She sputtered into silence as he grew hard right before her eyes.
He heaved out a sigh, and his arms fell to his sides. “I just got rid of that.”