Page 29 of Loki

Loki replaced the phone on the cradle and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the shower head, spraying water like a rainstorm. Then he walked to a closet, pulled out two fluffy red towels, and sat them next to the sink. He placed soap, a toothbrush, and toothpaste there as well.

“You can clean up.”

Val looked at him, the shower, and back again. She wanted nothing more than to take a shower and scrub off her skin, maybe even let out her wings, but... the shower was see-through.

He waited, but she didn’t move. “Is there a problem?”

“You mean besides the fact that there is no door or privacy at all?”

Loki grinned. “Afraid I’ll watch?”

“Only if you want a couple black eyes.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes.

He walked to the bed, laid down on it, and picked up a TV remote. He turned on a loud action movie and smiled.

“I won’t hear you over that thing. And I promise to be a complete gentleman and not peek— unless you want me to.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

The idea of him watching her made her skin flush. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked. “We may not have spent much time with each other, but you should know being nice isn’t going to get me into your bed.”

His expression grew serious, and he licked his lips. “I don’t have an answer for you. Usually, my immense charm and incredible looks are enough to make women fall into my arms, but with you, I am trying because... it feels right. That may make me sound stupid, but it’s the truth.”

She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe he spoke the truth and wasn’t trying to play her.

“I can tell you this, however. I’ve never, not ever, worked so hard to make a woman just like me. And especially not when expecting nothing in return. But I truly don’t want anything more from you than the joy of your company. That’s it. Nothing more.”

Sincerity rang in his voice. She wished he wasn’t telling the truth. It would be so much easier if he only wanted to screw her. At least then, she wouldn’t be starting to rethink her initial impression of him. Which she didn’t want to do because if she didn’t hate him and didn’t believe him to be a user and a womanizer, that left her where? Open? Vulnerable? She didn’t want to be either of those things. Not with him. Not with a Norse God. But...

“No peeking,” she said.

He saluted her. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Wait... yes. I would dream of it, but I won’t do it for real. What I do in my head is my own business, though.”

“Is it? It’s only your business if you keep it in your head and don’t try to plant it in mine like you did the other night.”

A chagrined expression crossed his face.

She knew it. She’d heard he had the power of dream walking, but she hadn’t been sure until that moment. It had been him in her dream the other night. And the things they’d done in her dream... he’d been responsible for those things. The idea of doing them again mixed with the sight of him lounging on the plush bed, and her body heated in places she didn’t want it heating up.

She turned before he discerned her thoughts. She needed a shower, and she didn’t need a warm one. She needed cold— ice freaking cold.

CHAPTER 8

Val walkedout of the bathroom, cloaked in both plush towels. The sight of her made Loki’s body ache.

No. That’s not what she needs.She’s still in a vulnerable place. She needed him to just be there for her, and for the first time in his life, he was okay with that. It surprised him how much he was okay with when it came to Val. How much he put up with. Things he would never have tolerated with other women or that he would have found annoying, he liked about her.

He pointed to the ointment and bandages he’d pulled from the wardrobe-sized first aid cabinet. “Let me see your injuries.”

“They’re fine, thanks.”

Loki nodded. “I know you can tend to yourself, but I’d like to take a look. Especially your wings. They did not appear to be in good shape in the arena.”

“My wings are—”

“Fine? It’d make me rest easier to see for myself. After All, I’m the one who got you into that scrap.”

She appeared like she was about to argue.

He stood and gestured to the bed. “Please? Humor me?”

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