“Nope. Doesn’t matter. I can’t do it,” she said, even as she traced the cold, hard ridges of his abdomen.
A masculine moan seemed to reverberate in her ears, just as before. This time, she didn’t jump away.
Kiss me, Katie.
Statues were not real, and they couldn’t project messages with their eyes. Yet, the urge to obey besieged her.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”
But her resistance was already beginning to crumble. With the garden in the backyard, twilight and foliage offered a shadowy protection. No one would ever know what transpired here.
When she dropped her gaze to his deliciously plump lips, the remaining resistance took a bullet to the heart. She would do it. She would give him a kiss. But only one! It would be short and sweet. A G-rated peck. There would be absolutely nothing sexual about it. Seriously, on a sizzle scale, he’d only get one star from her.
Who are you trying to convince?
Fine! “I’m going to end up with a stone statue groom and pebble children, aren’t I?” she muttered.
Katie cradled his cheeks with her hands and leaned closer…closer still. Contact, her lips meeting his. An electrical current lanced her. Her eyes slid shut of their own volition, ribbons of heat wrapping around her.
Her every thought tapered off except one: This is what a kiss should be like.
She glided her hands into his thick, silky hair, then sank her nails into his scalp, holding him captive. His lips were so much softer than she imagined. Warmer, too. Almost lifelike. Okay, definitely lifelike.
Heaving a breath and detecting a hint of sandalwood, she broke the kiss to rest her head upon his shoulder. A clean, male scent wafted to her nose as she imagined his arms banding around her. He would run his hands down the ridges of her spine, cup her butt and ease her closer. Imagined she could feel his breath fanning against her nape, every beat of his heart racing in time to hers.
“I truly am insane,” she whispered. “If you were real, I’d gobble you up in one tasty bite.”
Wait. She’d combed her fingers through his silky hair? What’s more, his arms had banded around her.
“I assure you I’m very real,” a deep voice proclaimed, “and I look forward to your devouring. You have my permission to proceed.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE MAN’S VOICE was pure unadulterated sin. All smoke, gravel and sex. Plus, he had a panty-melting accent. Another gold star from me!
Shocked and confused by the turn of events, she snapped to attention, staring up at a flesh-and-blood man with dark hair and blue eyes that glowed with wicked promise. The most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. But, but…
Where was the freaking stone?
Expression bewildered, he stretched his arms overhead, then rolled his neck, leaned left and right, and shook out each of his legs.
Rapture replaced the bewilderment, a slow smile lifting the corners of his lips, revealing straight white teeth.
Just like that, liquid heat pooled between her legs. He moved with grace and innate sensuality; she could watch him forever and never get bored.
Except he wasn’t real. He couldn’t be real. Dizzy, she closed her eyelids and counted to ten, expecting him to be back to normal by the time she refocused.
Please, Lord, let him go back to normal.
Four. Three. Two. She cracked open her eyelids an-n-nd her shoulders sagged. The warrior’s image remained the same: human. And hard.
Her heart thudded against her ribs, panic razing her calm. How could a stone man become a flesh-and-blood one, with bronzed, kissable skin? How could he hold her in his embrace? Or move? How could she feel the heat of his body seeping through her clothes?
“You’re…you’re…” As mystified as she was, she struggled to form a coherent sentence. “Wait. Maybe you aren’t.”
“I have no idea what you are saying, katya.”
Katya? Tentative, she poked at his shoulder.
Contact. Heat. He was real. He wasn’t a figment of an overactive imagination. And he was still hard. Not that she was looking down. Well, not anymore.
There had to be some kind of explanation for this. A thousand questions whirled inside her head, all complex. What she ended up asking? “H-how? I bought this property several weeks ago, and I’ve walked through this garden almost every single day since. You’ve been right here, hard and cold and stone. You’re a statue,” she babbled. “I know you’re a statue.”
“Nay, katya. I was a statue.” His eyes widened with awe and disbelief, reminding her of a little kid who’d just discovered Santa had visited. “Now I am free!”
“Free?” Her confusion amped up. But so did her attraction. He was a total snack. “Free from what?”
Ignoring her newest question, he closed his eyes and muttered something in a language she’d never before heard, his tone urgent. Then he refocused and scanned the area. Fierce disappointment eradicated his smile.
What the frick is going on? “Explain how this is possible,” she said, a pleading quality in her voice. “How were you stone seconds ago, yet a man now? Were you pretending to be a statue to punk me? Maybe you’re a hallucination and my mind is tricking me into thinking you’re tangible. That makes sense, right?”
“Nay.” His features softened as he reached out to touch her cheekbone. “You are beyond lovely.”
“Really?” He was the first guy to ever say so.
He says one nice thing and you forget the situation?
Her wits finally sparked to life, shouting, Danger, danger! She didn’t know this very real, very muscle-y man, and she certainly didn’t know what he planned to do with her.
Icy fingers of fear crept down her spine. Ready to dart to her truck and speed away, she stepped back and spun. A huge mistake. She’d forgotten she stood upon a dais, several feet above the grassy foundation. Now she hurtled toward the ground.
The man could have caught her, but he didn’t even try. He was too busy stretching. All she could do was twist midair so she landed on her butt rather than her face. The ensuing thwack hurt, impact knocking the air from her lungs and whisking locks of hair over her eyes.
Once she regained her breath, she jumped to her feet. But she didn’t run as she’d first intended. Be it shock or fascination, she remained firmly rooted in place, staring up at him.
He stepped off the dais and landed on his feet, his erection bobbing. Not that she was looking down. Gaze heating, he perused her curves.
Katie gulped. He was so tall, taller than anyone she’d ever met, and she had to look up, up, up to meet his stare. His shoulders were so broad and his muscle mass so stacked, she felt breathtakingly feminine and surprisingly vulnerable for the first time in her life. A total dream come true, and dam—dang it! The longer she peered at him, the faster her common sense evaporated.
“I…you…” Come on! Open mouth, speak words.
He took a step toward her.
No, no. Retreat! “Stay where you are,” she commanded as she inched away.
He raised his chin. “I mean only to ascertain that you are unharmed. Women are weak, delicate creatures, and you collided quite forcefully with the ground.”
Wait, wait, wait. Did he say “weak” and “delicate” and reference her? She narrowed her eyes, a lightbulb going off inside her mind. Her brothers must have paid this man to paint his skin and linger nearby, then position himself on the dais anytime she neared.