Amanda came awake to an awful throbbing in her head. She felt terrible.
What had hap-
She tensed as she remembered the unseen man.
His words.
Terrified, she pushed herself up, and quickly learned she was on a cold concrete floor, in a very small, dust-covered room...
And handcuffed to an unknown blond man.
A scream wedged itself in her throat, but she held it back.
Don't panic. Not until you have all the facts.
For all you know, Tabitha is making good her threat for a blind date -just like the time she "accidentally" locked you in the supply closet with Randy Davis for three hours.
Or "kidnapped" you in the trunk of her car with that weird musician.
Tabitha was always trying unorthodox ways to set her up with guys. Although, to be fair to her sister, Tabitha didn't usually knock the guy unconscious before she forced them together.
Still, with Tabitha there was a first time for just about anything. And extreme blind-dating was very vintage T.
Forcing herself to remain calm until she had more information, Amanda took in her surroundings. The two of them were in a small room with no windows and one rusty iron door. A door she couldn't reach without dragging her "friend" across the floor.
There was no furniture or anything else. The only light came from a small bulb in the center of the ceiling.
Okay, so she wasn't in immediate danger.
Still far from comforted, she looked at the body beside her. He lay with his back to her, and he was either dead or unconscious.
Preferring the latter, she inched toward him. He appeared rather tall, and he was positioned as if he had been dumped roughly onto the floor.
Her legs shaking, Amanda rose slowly to her knees and moved over him to keep his arm from being twisted any more.
He didn't move.
She trailed her gaze over his body. A long black leather coat, black jeans, and a black crew-neck shirt combined to give him an extremely dangerous appearance even while lying on the floor. His feet were covered by a pair of black biker boots with strange silver inlays in the heels.
His wavy blond hair fell over his face and met the collar of his coat, obscuring his features from her view.
"Excuse me?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you alive?"
As soon as her hand touched the hard, lean muscle of his biceps, her breath faltered. His prone body was like coiled steel. There wasn't a bit of a fleshy feel to him. He was all lithe, strong power.
Oh my, my.
Before she could stop herself, Amanda ran her hand down his arm. The feel of it!
She let out a slow, appreciative breath.
"Guy? Mister?" she tried again, shaking his hard, muscular shoulder. "Mr. Goth man, would you please wake up so I can leave? I really don't want to hang out in a closet with a dead man any longer than I have to, okay? C'mon, please, don't make this a Weekend at Bernie's thing. There's only one of me and you're a really big, big guy."
He didn't budge.
Okay, I'll have to try something else.
Biting her lip, Amanda rolled him onto his back. His hair fell away from his face at the same moment his collar did.
Her breath caught in her throat. Okay, now she was majorly impressed.
He was gorgeous. His jaw was strong and defined, his cheekbones high. His face was aristocratically boned, and he had just the tiniest hint of a cleft in his chin.
Oh baby, this man possessed that rare masculine beauty that only a few, very lucky women ever saw in the flesh.
Better still, he had the best looking lips she'd ever seen. Full and expressive, that mouth had been made for long, hot kisses.
In fact, the only flaw on his face was a hairline scar that ran across the lower edge of his jaw, from his ear to his chin.
He could easily rival Grace's husband for handsomeness. And Julian the Demigod was a hard man to compete with.
But then, Amanda had never been all that impressed with the way men looked. She preferred their minds over their bodies. Especially since most of the men she knew who looked even half this good generally had IQs that were smaller than her combined shoe size.
Unlike Tabitha, it took more than a cute butt and wide shoulders to turn her head.
Although...
Amanda ran her gaze over his lean, muscular body. In the case of this man, she might be willing to make an exception.
Provided he wasn't dead, anyway.
Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her hand against his tawny neck to check his pulse. A strong, heavy heartbeat thumped against her fingertips.
Relieved he was alive, she tried to shake him again. "Hey, yummy leather guy? Can you hear me?"
He moaned low in his throat, then slowly blinked his eyes open. Amanda started at the sight of those eyes. They were so dark they appeared black, and when they focused on her, they dilated menacingly.
With a curse, he grabbed her by the shoulders.
Before she could move, he rolled over with her, pinning her against the floor beneath his body as he held her wrists above her head.
Those dark, captivating eyes searched hers suspiciously.
Amanda couldn't breathe. Every inch of him was pressed intimately against her and she became instantly aware of the fact that his arms weren't the only part of his body that was rock-hard and solid. The man was a wall of sleek, strong muscle.
His hips rested dead center between her legs while his hard, taut stomach leaned against her in a way that brought a flush to her cheeks. Made her feel hot and tingly. Breathless.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to lift her head and kiss a man whom she knew absolutely nothing about.
Who was he?
To her complete shock, he lowered his head down to the side of her face and took a deep breath in her hair.
Amanda went rigid. "Are you sniffing me?"
A deep, melodious laugh rumbled through his body, sending an odd tingly surge through her.
"Only admiring your perfume, ma fleur," he whispered softly in her ear with a strange, provocative accent that melted her. His voice was so deep it reminded her of thunder and it rumbled through her with a devastating effect.
Okay, so the man was incredibly hot, and his breath on her neck sent thousands of needlelike chills over her body.
"You are not Tabitha Devereaux." He whispered the words so softly that even with his mouth brushing her ear she had to strain to hear him.
She swallowed. "You know T-"
"Shh," he whispered in her ear as his thumbs caressed her captured wrists in a rhythm that sent electric surges through her. Her breasts drew tight as desire scorched her.
He moved his face against hers, scraping her cheek gently with his whiskers and causing another wave of chills to consume her. Never in her life had she felt anything more arousing than his weight on her or smelled anything more exciting than the spicy, manly scent of him.
"They are listening." Kyrian drew a deep, appreciative breath.