Alexios’s foot itched to smash a kick into the coquina walls, but the fragile shell-and-sand limestone was too delicate to take the abuse. Unlike Grace. Who was neither fragile nor delicate, but an enormous pain in his ass. Three days with her had been three days of unrelenting agony. Everywhere he turned, she was there, a living, breathing reminder of what he couldn’t have. Couldn’t touch.
Couldn’t claim.
Even sweaty and dirty from training, she was so sexy she made his teeth hurt from the constant jaw clenching he had to do to keep from yanking her up into his arms and taking her mouth with his own. Worse, she was smart, funny, and generous. Everything he ever would have wanted in a woman–if he’d ever wanted a woman. In that way. That for-a-lifetime kind of way.
Which was crazy. Anyway, she had really annoying quirks that drove him nuts. Like when she was planning strategy or trying to figure out mundane budget issues, she had a habit of chewing on her lower lip and toying with the end of her braid that drove him nuts.
Okay, honesty. Nearly drove him insane with blind lust.
He wanted to play with her hair. He wanted to chew on her lips. Taste her. Bite her. Sink his teeth into her.
Sink his cock into her . . .
“Alexios!”
As if his churning thoughts had called her name, Grace’s voice cut through the muted conversations of the rebels like an electric eel through algae. Somehow, after he discreetly adjusted the fit of his pants for the hundredth time in three days and turned around, she was suddenly only a few paces behind him. The late afternoon sunlight shone on the deep red highlights in her rich dark brown hair, almost mesmerizing him for a moment.
Then she had to go and ruin it.
“Alexios, we need to talk.”