Hunting Medusa

by Elizabeth Andrews

  He smiled to himself at that and shut his eyes. They both needed some sleep to deal with what was coming.

  Andi realized before she opened her eyes that the Harvester was sleeping with his arm around her. It was why she was so warm.

  She frowned and peered through her eyelashes. Early light shone in the window on the other side of the room. The last thing she remembered was racking her brain trying to figure out if the Harvester had any other special talents he hadn’t told her about besides the lock thing. Now she was beneath the sheet and blanket, and his body heat warmed the back of her even more.

  She shifted slightly, and knew when he came fully awake.

  “Good morning, Andrea.”

  She didn’t answer, setting her jaw.

  His fingers slid slowly over her belly as he withdrew his arm, and she ground her teeth against the surge of PMS-fueled desire, certain the caress was a deliberate tease. Not that she’d give in to her hormones again. Not with him.

  “We have work to do today.”

  She shut her eyes.

  “I have something for you.”

  Something soft brushed her cheek, and she realized it was the sleep mask. She jerked her head away.

  “You did agree.” His tone was patient.

  She glared at the dresser and watched a big gouge mark appear on the side.

  “Ah, yes, definitely time for this.” He chuckled and slipped it over her head.

  Andi kept her mouth shut, hoping she didn’t grind her molars to dust.

  “Do you want to hear our plans for the day?”

  She curled her fingers into a fist beneath the blankets, trying to tell herself it was best if she didn’t hit him again today. Not three days in a row.

  “No? You’re not at all curious?” He adjusted the mask, then touched the short hair at her nape. “I have something I want you to see, but it will have to wait for a day or two now. Today, we’re going to figure out a place to go to avoid my cousin when he gets back from Ohio.”

  She jerked her head in his direction before she could stop herself.

  “Mm. Yes, it seems Cousin Stavros got orders from our great-uncle to follow my hot lead there instead of heading here to follow up on his own leads. That gives us a few days to decide what to do.”

  She turned her head away again on the pillow, considering. She hadn’t actually seen the entire message he’d posted, just the part about being on her trail and that he would complete his assignment in the next few days. She hadn’t seen where he told them he was.

  He patted her hip. “Come on. Time to get up.”

  She sat up reluctantly, her mind awhirl. It was possible he had actually lied to his cousin. But why? Because he wanted the glory for himself? Because he wanted the amulet even more desperately? She couldn’t begin to guess at his reasoning.

  His strong hands settled at her waist to lift her to her feet.

  She stumbled, off-balance from her imposed blindness, and he steadied her against him.

  She took a step back, bumping into the bed, and he chuckled.

  “I don’t think you’ll make it down the stairs this way.”

  “I’m fine,” she said stiffly, reaching out to push him away.

  He flattened her hand on his chest so she could feel his strong heartbeat. “I meant with the handcuff.”

  She clenched her jaw.

  He undid the cuff, and she wondered idly if he’d used the key or his handy talent. Then he caught her wrist in his free hand and turned her.

  She concentrated on getting out of the room without crashing into anything. Or into him. She made it down the stairs without incident, then sat when he gave her a gentle nudge into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “What would you like for breakfast?”

  “Your obituary.”

  He was silent for a few seconds, and she smiled, childishly pleased with herself.

  “For a woman who’s just missed out on what was bound to be a very unpleasant encounter with Stavros, you don’t sound very grateful,” he said at last.

  “One Harvester or another.” She shrugged.

  His silence this time was more protracted, and tension filled the room.

  She realized he may not just be thinking of his task, but of what had occurred between them already. She felt heat in her cheeks, suddenly grateful he was behind her.

  Eventually, she heard him moving on the other side of the island, and she relaxed a little. Her belly twinged, and she stifled a sigh. Right on time. She stood up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Bathroom.” She felt her way to the end of the table, mentally reviewing the space ahead of her. About fifteen steps to the half bath between the kitchen and living room, and no furniture in her path.

  He didn’t argue, but his footsteps came nearer, and then his fingers caught her wrist.

  “I can get there on my own.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Nonetheless he guided her along the short hallway. “I’d hate for you to bump into anything and bruise yourself.” He released her at the doorway.

  Andi didn’t flip him off as her first instinct suggested, but instead went into the smaller room and closed the door firmly—she hoped right in his face. She flipped the sleep mask up and glanced at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Her spiky hair would have to wait. Right on cue, another cramp made her flatten one hand low on her belly.

  A few minutes later—some aspirin washed down with a little water and her hair finger-combed—she hesitated for a few seconds, then tugged the sleep mask back down and fumbled for the doorknob. He might not still be standing outside the door, so if she walked back to the kitchen without the mask, he’d have time to turn away before she could do any damage to him. And he had held up his part of their bargain last night by producing the scissors she wanted.

  Kallan met her at the door and guided her back to the table. “Do you need anything else?”

  “The couch and a heating pad in about half an hour.” She sat. If he intended to wait on her, then he could really wait on her.

  One of his hands brushed over the top of her head as he moved away. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  She frowned. “And stop touching me.”

  He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, then banged a pan onto the stovetop.

  She wondered what he’d said. And tried to figure out what he was making for breakfast. She really needed to go for groceries.

  Sizzling began a moment later, and then the aroma of fried potatoes teased her nose.

  Her stomach rumbled. She was starved. And no wonder, since she’d hardly eaten any of her supper last night.

  Then something else scented the air. Bacon.

  She frowned. Maybe there’d been some in the freezer? She didn’t care where he’d found the food though. It smelled delicious.

  She rubbed one finger along the side of the table, feeling a small nick there. She’d have to sand it out once he was gone.

  Assuming she was still alive.

  Frowning, she gave her head a slight shake. She would be alive. Then she could even out the new gouges in the floor and on her dresser too.

  A plate hit the table in front of her, and the amazing aromas assaulted her full-on. Her mouth watered.

  “How do you think you’re going to eat?” he asked evenly.

  She felt around for the fork she’d heard him put down.

  Nothing.

  Annoyance tightened her mouth. “If you go back to the other side of the island, I can eat without the mask on.”

  “I’m intending to eat my own breakfast.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut inside the sleep mask. Of course he was.

  She heard movement nearby, then the scraping of another chair before he sat down, close enough she could feel his heat. Her pulse quickened.

  “Open.”

  For a long moment, she resisted. But she was hungry, and the potatoes smelled divine. Finally, she opened her mouth, and he scooped
some of the food in.

  Yum. But she didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she took the crisp slice of bacon he put in her hand and ate, silent.

  By the time she’d eaten her fill, she was all too aware of the intimacy of him feeding her. Her stupid hormones had her wanting to strip off her clothes and climb into his lap. Except for those damned cramps.

  She finished the orange juice he’d given her and pushed her chair away from the table. “Thank you.” It was grudging, but she felt a little better after eating.

  “Where’s your heating pad?”

  “Under the sink in the small bathroom.”

  He caught her hand and led her into the living room to settle her on the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

  Andi shut her eyes behind the mask. It had been years since anyone had taken care of her this way. She wasn’t actually sure she could recall when, or who it had been. Maybe when she’d still been a child and her mother was still parentally inclined.

  “How hot?”

  “All the way.”

  He handed her the heating pad, then—after she shuddered—covered her with the quilt she kept draped across the back of the sofa. “Do you need anything else?”

  She shook her head, rather than give him another smart-ass answer. Her eyes stung, and she was grateful suddenly for the mask that hid her tears.

  The Harvester was being far nicer than he needed to be. Far nicer than she would have been if he’d tricked her the way she had him last night.

  She inhaled unsteadily and shifted the heating pad closer to the spot where her cramps hurt the worst. Rather than thinking about Kallan Tassos, she put her mind to work to will away the cramping. Not that it had ever worked before. She didn’t expect it to work now. But it gave her something else to occupy her mind.

  A few hours later, Kallan watched her sleep on the sofa. Her face was pale and strained, and occasionally a breathy moan of pain passed her lips.

  He clenched the mug he held. It shouldn’t matter if she was suffering. That wasn’t his concern. He should be thinking about how to get the amulet. He had to figure it out, dammit.

  But his gaze kept straying from his laptop screen to the sleeping woman on the couch. His mind wouldn’t stay focused on his search of the internet, instead flashing bits of their heated encounter last night.

  She may have intended to distract him with sex, but he knew she’d distracted herself too.

  And then he’d revealed his ability to undo locks. That was not the smartest thing he’d ever done.

  Then again, sleeping with the Medusa probably didn’t rank on the list either. Sleeping with her more than once clearly revealed him to be a complete idiot. His father would be shocked and disappointed if he were still alive. Great-Uncle Ari would be furious.

  Right now, he didn’t care. He needed her alive in order to get the amulet. If she died, the search would have to begin anew for the next Medusa.

  If she died. If he killed her was far more accurate.

  He punched a button on the keyboard to clear the screen, then rose to pace. Big windows revealed the bright green clearing in front of the house, then the darker green of the trees around the yard, deepening to black farther inside the forest. A rabbit hopped across the yard, in no particular hurry. When Kallan moved to the smaller window at the side of the room, he could see the driveway winding away into the trees. His truck now sat behind her car, retrieved that first night after he’d knocked her unconscious.

  If someone else killed her, he would have to tell his family about the amulet. Which would be difficult to explain.

  He frowned. If Stavros really was following the same clues he had, Kallan had to be out of here with Andrea before his cousin realized the Ohio lead was no good.

  That meant the truck had to be gone. He pulled out his phone and dialed the rental company. He moved into the kitchen so his conversation wouldn’t wake her, and arranged for the truck to be picked up that afternoon.

  One problem solved. Posting another mention or two of his trip in northwestern Ohio would hopefully slow his cousin down a little more. Part of another problem solved. Temporarily.

  The next step was where to go with her while he came up with a plan to retrieve the amulet.

  She shifted on the sofa, making a small sound.

  He knelt beside her, touching her forehead, which was clammy. “Are you all right?”

  “Need to get up for a minute,” she mumbled, pushing the blanket and heating pad away.

  He shut off the pad and helped her to her feet before guiding her to the bathroom.

  Though she didn’t complain, he could see she was suffering. He wondered just how bad the pain was. From inside the smaller room, he heard the rattle of a medicine bottle, then water running.

  He moved away from the door a few steps to give her a little privacy. Wondered what else would help relieve her cramps.

  Came up blank.

  When she opened the door a few minutes later, he took her outstretched hand. “What else can I do?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll get a shower in a little while, run it as hot as I can. That’ll help a little.” She bit her lip, flushing.

  “What else?”

  “You left my vibrator in the nightstand, right?”

  His pulse quickened and blood rushed to his groin. “Yes,” he croaked.

  “That and the shower will help. I want to lie down for a little while first.”

  He walked her back to the couch, spreading the blanket over her, and all the while, his mind kept conjuring up images of Andrea in the shower. Bringing herself to orgasm.

  Sweet Goddess. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He adjusted his pants before he sank into his chair, but there was no comfortable position for the erection that had sprung to life at her words.

  He could offer to— No. She didn’t want him to—

  He shouldn’t either.

  But his body had other ideas.

  He dropped his head against the back of the chair and shut his eyes for a second. It didn’t matter how foolish the idea was, he still wanted her.

  She moved, rolling onto her back and drawing her knees up a little.

  He turned his head to look more fully at her.

  Her mouth was pinched, and her cheeks pale, the little color that had tinted them a few minutes ago long gone. Atop the blanket, her fingers rubbed at her belly, as if she could ease the cramping muscles deep inside that way.

  His brain gave in then. There was really no help for it. He pushed to his feet. “Come, Andrea. Let me help you.” He dropped to one knee beside her and scooped her into his arms.

  It was a testament to how miserable she must be that she didn’t protest.

  He carried her up the stairs and stepped into the bathroom to set her on the closed toilet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Not that he thought she was going anywhere.

  He strode into the bedroom and yanked the nightstand drawer open. The vibrator rolled forward, and he took a shaky breath, eyeing it for a moment before he picked it up and shut the drawer.

  His next stop was her dresser, where he dug through drawers until he found a pair of black sweat pants and a loose t-shirt, another pair of underwear, and then returned to the bathroom.

  Andrea was right where he’d left her, though she had curled forward, her head nearly touching her knees, and a soft moan escaped her.

  “Come on, meli,” he whispered, dropping the clean clothing on top of her hamper before he eased her to her feet. He helped her out of her shirt, ignored all the creamy skin he exposed when he unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor, then unfastened her jeans. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Turn around for a minute.”

  He did as she asked, though he now faced the mirror and could easily see her slow, careful movements, something she was clearly in too much pain to realize. He wanted to help her, but he waited until she held out her hand. Then he guided her to the shower, where he turned on the water and tested its heat with
his fingertips. It was hotter than he’d like for his own shower.

  “Hotter.”

  He winced when he turned the knob further, but she sighed in relief when she stepped under the scalding spray and braced herself with one hand on the wall.

  Steam rose around her.

  Kallan reminded himself he was just doing this to ease her pain, not to ease his own growing need.

  Still, he tugged his shirt off so it wouldn’t get wet. He also retrieved the vibrator from the counter beside the sink. “Let me know when, Andrea.” He waited, feeling tension pull the muscles in his shoulders tighter. Painfully.

  She only nodded, tipping her head back and shifting so the hot water hit her belly full-on. The water’s heat made her skin pink. After a few minutes, the strain around her mouth eased a little. “Better.”

  His own tension grew, his body hardening still more at the vision in front of him. He was a sick bastard, he thought, just as she’d suggested yesterday. And the night before. Goddess, he needed to get a firm grip on his libido.

  She sighed, a long, drawn-out exhalation, her posture relaxing a bit more. Then she held out her hand.

  “Let me.” He knew he shouldn’t. But he wanted to.

  She dropped her hand to her side, remaining silent.

  He took her silence as acquiescence and braced himself on the open shower door before flipping the switch on the vibrator. The toy’s low hum made his heart rate quicken still more, and he slid it first across her breasts, surprising her.

  “Oh.” Her knuckles whitened on the tile wall for a moment.

  He teased her until her nipples tightened, darkened. Goddess, he wanted to taste them again. He restrained himself, however, easing the vibrator down over her belly, rubbing the tip in the same area she’d tried to massage by herself earlier. Her breathing hitched.

  Smiling grimly, he nudged her thigh with the toy. “Open for me, meli.”

  She widened her stance slowly, and he stroked her inner thighs with the vibe until her hips rocked toward it. Then he slid it up, up to where his body desperately wanted to be. Easing just the tip of it inside her. Flipping the switch to the next level.