I wake up, and for a moment I don’t know where I am. That’s okay, but for some reason, I’m extremely warm. I’m being held, and I feel, I know, down to my very bones, that I’m safe. That nothing can hurt me.

Slowly, I start to become more aware. There’s a firm arm, like a band of iron, around my waist, anchoring me. Something—someone—smells amazingly good. Kind of woodsy, with a hint of smoke. The smell makes me shiver and I can feel myself becoming aroused.

I’m in someone’s arms, I realize. My back is pressed up against a chest, a nose is buried in my hair.

I turn, slightly, trying not to wake them. My body’s practically shivering with desire now. The ache between my thighs needs relief.

Then it hit me. It’s Xerxes.

Sometime in the middle of the night we must have rolled into each other and into a spooning position without realizing it. I can’t exactly get mad at him for something he did while asleep, and all he’s doing is holding me. Well, it also feels so amazingly good. Too damn good. So good, I remain right where I am.

I study his features. He really is handsome. And now that he’s asleep I can let myself look at his body in a way I refused to last night. His biceps are thickly muscled, tan skin is practically inviting me to put my mouth on it.

Oh, God, I’m so hot all over. I literally want to wake Xerxes up, spread my legs, and tell him to take me.

I’ve never been like this before. What is wrong with me? Is it just because I’ve never been with a man before? Is finding myself accidentally in this position suddenly kicking my body into overdrive to make up for lost time or something?

I try to maneuver out of bed without waking him, but the moment I start to move, he stirs. His blue eyes open, and for a moment, he stares at me with an expression of… well, I don’t want to say devotion or anything, but that’s what it feels like. I’ve never had anyone look at me that way before. Not anyone. Like he’s so overjoyed to see me.

And so of course I’m very eloquent and graceful and blurt out, “I’m gotta pee…” and then scramble for the bathroom.

Once I’m in there, I splash cold water on my face. Keep it together, for Christ’s sake. Yes, Xerxes is hot. Yes, I am insanely attracted to him. But that’s no reason for me to lose all common sense, here. I barely know the guy.

What is unexplainable is the fact that I felt so comfortable in his arms. Not like I’ve known him all my life or anything, but like… like he’d do anything to protect me and keep me safe, maybe even love me. The way he looked at me, I felt like if I asked him for the moon, he’d give it to me. Or, like I could tell him anything and he would be okay with it.

I don’t understand this. It scares me, but it in another way comforts me. A lot of us foster kids, the kids from bad homes, we’ll never admit it because admitting it makes us vulnerable and we’ve all learned the hard way not to ever make ourselves vulnerable, but… we want that closeness, that connection. We want someone to look at us the way that Xerxes was looking at me just now. We—I—want someone around whom I’ll actually feel safe.

But Xerxes isn’t that, I remind myself. He’s handsome as fuck and so it’s messing with my head. And, sure, he did try and be romantic last night, although he fell on his face in the process. I don’t trust big over the top gestures like fancy jewelry and making me dinner (although that steak was delicious).

I’d like something more original. Something that takes thought. Something that shows he’s not just going through the motions so that he can get me into bed. I know he probably won’t bother to go through all that trouble. Not him, a man who can easily bed every other woman he runs into. But, I want him to prove me wrong, to show me that he does care about me.

Do I want that?

It’s all messed up in my head. I have to get out of here and away from him. I can’t think straight right now.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Xerxes is in the kitchen, once again without a shirt. He’s frying up eggs and what looks like a small mountain of bacon.

“How much do you eat?” I ask. He’d downed three steaks last night.

“A lot.” Xerxes smiles at me. “Feeling more awake?”

“Marginally. Tell me, are you allergic to shirts or something? Do you have a rare skin condition that makes them painful to wear one?”

Xerxes shrugs. “I just don’t like wearing much around the house. It’s confining.”

“I appreciate you making the sacrifice to put on pants in my presence,” I say dryly.

“I could take them off, if you’d prefer,” Xerxes says, winking at me.

“Wow. That was—that was epically awful.” I’m laughing in spite of myself. “Have you ever had to try to pick up a girl before? Or am I just special?”

“You’re special,” Xerxes replies, his voice oddly serious.

My laughter catches in my throat and I stare at him. He looks and sounds as though he really means it. I have no idea what to do with that.

He serves me my breakfast. As I suspected, the majority of Mount Bacon goes to him.

“Roads still closed?” I ask, hoping against hope that the fire was taken care of during the night.

Xerxes shakes his head. “You’re still stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

He’s trying to hide his glee at my having to stay with him longer but he’s not doing a particularly good job of it. I roll my eyes. “Great. I’ll just be in the library then.”

I can do more research on my computer, or maybe delve into Xerxes’ books. There were plenty that looked entertaining. I’ll have no problem passing the time in there just fine, so long as he doesn’t bother me.

Xerxes looks disappointed. “All right, then.”

I get dressed and go into the library while Xerxes cleans up. I try to help, but he bats my hands away. “You’re my… guest,” he says, and I have a feeling that ‘guest’ is a last-second replacement for a different word. “You don’t have to do any cleaning.”

Well, hell, I’m not going to argue with that, so I go to the library, pick a book, and go to sit on the window seat.

About twenty minutes in, I notice that Xerxes is out on the back porch.

He’s in the hot tub.

I stare. It’s fire season, the air’s already warm and dry, and he’s in a goddamn hot tub?

I’m out there before I can even register that my feet are moving. “Are you insane?”

Xerxes looks up at me, and oh damn. The jets are going but I suddenly get the very distinct impression that he’s not wearing a bathing suit. He stands up, just a little, and I can see all the way down to his hip bones.

My knees nearly buckle. I have the wild urge to jump into the hot tub with him, wrap my legs around him and …

I sit down on one of the deck chairs, quickly, before I fall down.

“You can join, if you want,” Xerxes tells me. His voice has gone a bit husky, and I know that he’s thinking the same thing I am. His eyes drink me in, his gaze darts all over my body, and I can feel it almost like a physical touch.

“I’m good,” I manage to breathe out, with considerable effort, like denying him goes against the natural order of things. I wonder if he can see how I’m trembling, how close I’m am to begging him to take me.

It’s heady, to say the least.

“I’ll just go back inside,” I tell him, and then I do just that. Quickly.

I tell myself it’s not running away.

The next day and a half are torture. Xerxes is still allergic to shirts, and we sleep together in his bed again because, apparently, my self-control has gone out the window. It feels like I’m only a moment away from turning into some incoherent animal, unable to do anything except spread my legs and wave my ass in the air inviting him to mount me.

I touch myself in the shower at one point, unable to handle the throbbing need between my legs any longer. I picture his body writhing against mine forcefully, holding me down, thrusting inside of me, fucking me hard and fast, and I orgasm so hard I nearly smack my head on the wall as my legs give out.

Finally though, finally, the roads are cleared and I’m able to leave. Xerxes appears reluctant. He’s stopped with the flowers and jewelry, but he still cooks for me, still gives me compliments.

I like it, and I hate how much I like it.

I have him drop me off at the bed and breakfast. That’s where I’ll have to stay until my job can find me a new assignment. The cabin is ash, I’m sure. Thank God all my important stuff was in my overnight bag.

I’ve only just finished setting up my room when there’s a knock at the door. I wonder—hope maybe—that it’s Xerxes. He looked like a kicked puppy when I said goodbye. But, when I open it, it’s not him.

It’s his brothers.

“Rebecca.” The slightly smaller one with the golden eyes smiles warmly. Now that we’re this close, I can see they’re not pure gold. More like golden brown. But when they catch the light, there’s something supernatural about them. Like with Xerxes’ blue eyes. “I’m Vyn, we met briefly before? We wanted to stop by and say hello, check on you. See if you survived our brother’s idea of hospitality.”

“I survived just fine,” I tell them, not opening my door any further. “He was very gracious.” I trust Xerxes at this point, but I don’t know either of these men. Brothers of Xerxes or not, they’re not coming into my hotel room.

“He loves you,” the other one, M-something, grunts out.

Vyn tries to peer over my shoulder. “What’s all that you’ve got there?”

I try to block his view. “Research.” Crap. He notices the stuff I’ve printed out about dragons.

I think Vyn might be upset, but he flashes me a beaming smile. “It’s nice to know that you care about our brother. He’s told us a lot about you.”

He has? “And you’re here, what, to see that I don’t break your brother’s heart?”

“Or that he doesn’t scare you off,” the other brother says.

Vyn hastens to add, “What Malek means is that we know Xerxes can be a bit much. And he’s not always the most tactful of people. We just want to make sure that you’re both on the same page here.”

“We’re not,” I tell him. “But I hope that we will be soon.”

Vyn gives me a far too knowing smile. “Glad to hear it. Malek? I think we’re good here.”

They start to walk away, but then Vyn pauses and turns around again. “And Rebecca? I suggest researching mythology, rather than biology, if you want to find your answers.”

My blood runs cold as Vyn winks at me and the two brothers walk off.

He knows. He knows what I’m researching, and probably why.

But he didn’t try to discourage or threaten me. Instead he… gave me a tip? Pointed me in the right direction?

I turn and look back at the papers on my hotel bed, and at my computer.

Mythology, huh?