Carefully, they placed her unknown guest on her bed.
"Well, let's go," Wayne said, taking her by the arm.
Sunshine gently shrugged his touch away. "We can't leave him like that."
"Why not?"
"He's covered in blood."
Wayne's face showed his exasperation. It was a look everyone had around her sooner or later-okay, it was most often sooner. "Go sit on the couch and let me undress him."
"Sunshine..."
"Wayne, I'm twenty-nine years old, a divorced artist who took nude drawing in college, and I was raised with two older brothers. I know what men look like naked. Okay?"
Growling low in his throat, he stepped out of her bedroom and went to sit on her sofa.
Sunshine took a deep breath as she turned back to her hero dressed all in black. He looked humongous on her bed.
He was also a total mess.
Tentatively, so as not to hurt him, she reached to unzip his motorcycle jacket, which was the neatest thing she'd ever seen. Someone had painted gold and red Celtic scrollwork all over it. It was simply beautiful. A true study in ancient artistry, and she should know. All her life, she had been drawn to Celtic things. She'd cut her teeth on their art and culture.
As soon as she unzipped the jacket, she paused in shock as she saw he wore nothing underneath it. Nothing except lush, tawny skin that made her mouth water and her body instantly throb. Never in real life had she beheld a man with a body so hard and so well toned. Every muscle was defined, and even while relaxed, his strength was evident.
The man was a god!
She ached to draw those perfect proportions and immortalize them. A body this fine definitely needed preserving. She pulled the jacket off and carefully laid it on the bed.
Turning on the lamp that rested on her scarf-covered nightstand, she took a good look at him and was floored by what she saw.
Ca-ram-ba!
He was even more gorgeous than the people who had attacked her. His wavy blond hair curled becomingly around the nape of his neck, and two long, thin braids hung down to his bare chest. His eyes were closed, but his dark eyelashes were sinfully long. His face was perfectly sculpted with high, arching brows and he had a very dignified, yet untamed look to him.
Again, she had a strange sense of deja vu as her mind flashed on an image of him awake and poised above her. Of him smiling down at her while he slid himself slowly in and out of her body...
Sunshine licked her lips at the thought as she throbbed in painful need.
It had been a long time since she had been this attracted to a stranger. But something about this man really made her ache for a taste of him.
Girl, you have been too long without a man.
Unfortunately, she really had.
Sunshine frowned as she moved closer and got a better look at the tore he wore around his neck. Thick and gold, it had Celtic dragon heads facing each other.
What was so odd was that she'd sketched that very same design years ago in art school and had even tried to cast it into a tore for herself, but the piece had ended up a big mess. It took a lot of metalworking talent to make something that intricate.
Even more impressive was the tribal body tattoo that covered the entire left side of his torso, including his left arm. It was a glorious maze of Celtic artwork that reminded her of the Book of Kells. And unless she missed her guess, it was designed as a tribute to the Celtic war goddess, the Morrigan.
Without thought, she ran her hand over his tattoo, tracing the intricate design.
His right arm had a matching three-inch band of scrollwork around the biceps.
Incredible. Whoever had drawn his tattoos certainly knew their Celtic history.
And as her finger brushed against his nipple, she was jarred from her artist's appreciation of the design.
The woman in her snapped to the forefront as her gaze darted over his lean muscular ribs and abs so tight and well formed they should be part of a body-builder show.
Oh yeah, this was one fine-looking man.
Even though there was a lot of blood on his pants, there didn't appear to be any injury to have caused it. Come to think of it, there weren't even many bruises. Not even where the Bacchus truck had slammed into him.
How weird was that?
Her throat dry, Sunshine reached for his fly.
Part of her couldn't wait to see what was underneath those black pants.
Boxers or briefs?
If he was this studly fine so far, it could only get better...
Sunshine!
It was just an artist's appreciation for his body, she told herself.
Yeah, right.
Ignoring that thought, she unzipped his pants and discovered that he wore nothing underneath them.