Читать книгу Dark Beginnings: The Darkest Fire / The Darkest Prison / The Darkest Angel - Gena Showalter - Страница 16

DON’T STOP. DID HE MEAN for her to move his armor out of the way? Or simply to clean him as she’d promised? Already he was nervous, on edge, and had resisted even the slightest of handling. Afraid to risk a mistake, she leaned in, reached up and mopped the blood from his face with one of the strips of cloth. Acting the coward again, are we?

His delectable scent filled her nose, a midnight breeze that inexplicably reminded her of home. A sprawling, opulent home she had not been able to visit since reluctantly agreeing to oversee the fortification of Hell. How she missed it.

“In all the years I have known you,” she said, carefully avoiding the deepest gash, “you have never left your post at the gate. Do you eat?” At first contact, he had jumped. But she maintained a steady, casual rhythm and he gradually relaxed.

Perhaps one day he would allow her to do more. Would she enslave him, though, as she had the others? Still the question plagued her. If there was a chance that she wouldn’t…What are you doing? She’d already told herself she could not risk it, but hope was a silly thing and refused to leave her.

“No,” he said. “There’s no need for me to eat.”

“Really?” Even she, a goddess, needed food. She could survive without it, yes, but she would waste away, becoming a mere shell of herself. That was why baskets of fruits and breads were brought to her once a week—along with lectures about her many failures. “How, then, do you survive?”

“I’m not sure. I know only that I stopped needing food the day I was brought here. Perhaps the fire and smoke sustain me.”

“So you don’t miss it? The tastes and textures, I mean?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen even a crumb that I rarely think of food anymore.”

She wanted to feed him, she thought. Wanted to sweep him out of this nightmare and into a banquet hall with tables piled high, food of every kind gracing their surfaces. She wanted to watch his face light in ecstasy as he sampled one of everything. No one should be forced to go without such nourishment.

When his face was clean, she switched her attentions to his right arm. Angry claw marks glared at her, and she knew they had to be hurting him. Not by word or deed did he betray it, though. No, he actually seemed…blissful.

“I’m sorry I do not have the proper medicines to ease your pain.”

“You have no reason to be sorry. I’m grateful for what you’re doing and hope to repay you in kind someday. Not that I desire you to be injured,” he added quickly. “I do not.” Horror blanched his features. “I would hate such a thing. Truly. I only want to see you healthy and whole.”

Her lips curled into a slow smile. “I understood your meaning.” Finished with her ministrations, she settled her hands in her lap. She didn’t move from her position between his legs, because an idea had taken root in her mind. Perhaps he wasn’t ready for her to remove his armor, but that did not mean he would refuse her…other things. And he’d seemed to enjoy having her hands on him.

Careful. “May I ask you a question, Geryon?”

He nodded hesitantly. “You may do anything you like to me.”

Had he meant the words to emerge so sensually? So husky and rich? Butterflies took flight in her belly. “Are you…do you like me?”

He looked away from her and gave another nod. “More than I should,” he muttered.

Those butterflies morphed into ravens, flapping their dark wings wildly. “Then I would like very much if you would kiss me at last.”