Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter

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СКАЧАТЬ tonight.”

      “We promise we’ll be good.” Nick gave her his customary if-you-believe-that-it’s-time-for-a-mental-evaluation grin.

      Did she and Nick truly share the same parents? Perhaps he had been adopted. “I’ll think about it, okay? I’m not sure how much more of you guys I can stand.”

      “Fair enough.”

      One by one her brothers kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t let Gray drive,” she commanded.

      “Give us some credit,” Denver tossed over his shoulder.

      Together they all strode outside. Well, every one else strode. Gray stumbled. “Don’t forget Saturday,” he said, his tone a bit slurred.

      “I won’t.” Sighing, she waved them off.

      Alone at last, Katie went back inside and locked all of the doors, keeping predators—both related and nonrelated—out. She was shaking her head as she ambled back to the couch.

      Jorlan was still passed out.

      In sleep, his features were relaxed, giving him a boyish quality she’d never associated with him before. Boyish…it was hard to imagine that this hard, strong (drunk) warrior had ever been a boy. His innate sensuality, his commanding demeanor, and the patent stillness he sometimes adopted made her think that perhaps he’d sprung fully-grown from his father’s thigh, like an ancient Greek god.

      Greek god. Yes, the description fit Jorlan perfectly. His physical attributes were exceptional, from the dark shadow covering his jaw to the iron-hard muscles corded throughout his entire body. More than that, there was something heavenly about the way he smelled. Not the tequila, of course, but the heady mixture of heat, soap and man.

      Katie glided her fingers over his jaw, loving the rough texture and thinking that only two days ago she had wished for this very thing. To slip her hands over warm flesh, instead of cold gray stone. Sighing, she covered his body with a downy blanket that didn’t quite reach his toes. “Just what am I going to do with you, Jorlan en Sarr?”

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      JORLAN AWOKE SUDDENLY.

      Sunlight streamed inside the chamber he occupied. He closed his eyes. Opened them. Squinted. Why was the light so cursed bright? Why did his head pound so sharply he thought it might explode? And why in the name of Elliea did his tongue feel dry and parched as if a tiny creature had crawled inside and died?

      Was he dying, mayhap? Had he been ill?

      Slowly, the details hazy, his head began to fill with memories, though several pieces of information remained impossibly out of reach. One bit of information, however, pounded in his mind: Katie’s brothers were responsible for his torment!

      Jorlan jerked upright, intending to collect his weapons and destroy all four of the cursed men who had given him “lick her.” But the action made his vision swim and his stomach lurch. He eased back down.

      “Lick her” was obviously a poison of some sort. There were many different types on his world and all were used for different reasons, but he was unfamiliar with the toxins of Katie’s world. He suspected that the fiery concoction he’d consumed was not only used for incapacitating an enemy, but was also used as a truth serum.

      Too well did he recall the many questions Katie’s siblings had drilled at him.

      “How long are you staying?”

      “Why are you leaving?”

      “What are your intentions toward Katie?”

      Jorlan was unsure how he had responded, but thought mayhap one of his answers caused a battle. Recalling a well-placed jab, he fingered his lip. Aye, there was a definite soreness. He did not recall the exact details, but he knew the fight had been four against one. Who had won, he was unsure. While he had once taken on nine rebel soldiers and emerged the victor, Katie’s brothers were a much more imposing force.

      A sharp pain lanced through his head and Jorlan grimaced.

      He had to get up, had to fight the sickness. There was much to do this day. He stumbled from his bed. The action caused his stomach to gurgle, twist and lurch. He fought it, but soon realized it was a losing battle and raced to the bathing chamber where he heaved into the sink.

      After he’d emptied his stomach and scrubbed his mouth clean, he went in search of Katie. His steps were slow and careful as he uttered a prayer that she possessed some sort of antidote. If not, the pain in his stomach and head might kill him before the day ended.

      He found her perched at the kitchen counter, flipping through her thick, yellow “phone book” and sipping green liquid from a mug. Even with his senses dulled from pain, she was a sight to behold. Sunlight poured through a nearby window, caressing her with an angelic glow, paying her the glorious tribute she deserved.

      Beside her, a soft melody hummed from a magical black box. His first instinct was to attack, but then he noticed how her foot tapped in rhythm to the beat, and he remained in place. ’Twas like her talking “answering machine,” he realized.

      Today Katie wore short, tight drocs and a brown top held in place by thick straps. Though both garments fit her curves like a second skin, neither the top nor bottom garment was truly an alluring piece, yet on her they looked stunning. Breathtaking. He could have gazed upon her exquisite loveliness forever.

      Which was strange, he thought, considering he’d judged her merely beautiful before. As he watched her chew on the end of a thin writing instrument, moving those lush lips up and down—mimicking an action he had often fantasized about in the last days—he decided he had the right of it now. The word beautiful did no justice to such ethereal perfection.

      This woman possessed a splendor beyond any he’d ever known.

      He must have made a sound, a groan of need, mayhap, because she swiveled and faced him.

      “Jorlan! Good morning.” Her gaze raked over him, and her expression clouded with concern. “Not feeling so well, huh?”

      He scowled at the reminder. “I long to impale all four of your siblings onto a pike so that hundreds of hungry animals may gnaw upon their flesh. Mayhap then they will learn the proper respect for a warrior.”

      “You still have yet to teach me,” she muttered. Then she flashed her teeth in a wide smile. “Call me morbid, but I like seeing you like this. You’re not quite so intimidating.”

      “When have I ever intimidated you?”

      “Oh, you have,” she confessed. “More times than I care to admit. Now have a seat before you topple over. I’ll get you some coffee and aspirin. They’re miracle cures, I promise you. They saved my life every time I overindulged.” She hopped to her feet.

      Fast losing strength, he sank into the offered chair. “Did those devils once poison you, as well?”

      “No.” She chuckled, a sound that skipped along his senses with an almost physical pleasure. “I did it to myself.”

      “Why would you purposefully poison yourself?”

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