The terror faded, leaving only awe. He wore a long white robe and held a sword of flames. How he’d gotten past her friends, Fox didn’t know. Surely, someone had heard his entrance.
If so, she had a minute, perhaps two, before that someone showed up to check on her. Unless the Sent One did something to prevent others from hearing what occurred in her room. Or killed those others.
Rage overwhelmed her. “Did you hurt my friends?” The question exploded from her.
“I did not.”
The rage dulled, and their gazes met, awareness punching her dead center in the chest. Never in all the eons of her life had she experienced such a visceral reaction to another person.
As she struggled to take in air, he pursued her inch by inch. He liked what he saw, no doubt about it. An erection tented his robe an-n-nd damn! He couldn’t be that large. Nope. No way. He must have smuggled in a package of tube socks filled with dildos. Either way, her nipples puckered and goose bumps spread over her limbs.
He swallowed. “You are Fox the Executioner.” A statement, not a question, spoken in a delicious, gravelly voice.
New shivers hurried down her spine. “I am.” Why deny it?
“Then you know why I’m here.”
“I do.” Again, there was no reason to deny it. “Nice hate-on, by the way.”
A growl rumbled from him.
Excellent. She pushed back a little more. “Be honest. You’re regretting your assignment now that you’ve seen me, yes? I mean, it’s pretty obvious you gave my body a five-boner review.” Despite the dire circumstances, Fox couldn’t help but tease the big, bad warrior who’d come to slay her…a male who looked like sex on legs and sounded like the world’s best-paid phone sex operator.
A blush painted twin circles of pink on his cheeks.
A blush? From an assassin? How adorable was that? Even still, she lifted her blade. As much as she’d struggled to survive her childhood, as fiercely as she’d fought to endure her demon, she would not go down without a fight. No matter how much she deserved the punishment.
“You are mistaken. I regret nothing,” he told her. “An involuntary bodily reaction changes nothing.”
“Or maybe it changes everything. Who are you, anyway?” And why hadn’t he launched his first strike, if he had no regrets?
“I am Bjorn, the One True Dread.”
Well, well. He’d actually answered.
Discover the World Of 1001 Dark Nights
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Collection Two
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Collection Four
Collection Five
Collection Six
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