Page 22 of Toward Immortal Ruin

Launching into brief but prescriptive instructions, she continued her demonstration while the man beside her nodded encouragingly. As she went over his browser settings, he pulled a face. “It’s just so slow compared to a computer. I don’t think I’ll use this function until phones can get proper internet speeds.”

With a disbelieving side-eye, Eden inspected the programs and chuckled. He was worse than the ancient tenured professors in her department. “You’ve got literally all the apps on your phone open and running.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Only if you want it to work efficiently.”

She was already tapping on his phone. As she closed each app, she became aware of just how close they truly were, her attention riveted to the man sitting next to her. In her haste to help him, she’d ended up basically sitting in his lap, his face only inches away from hers. His mouthwatering sea breeze scent invaded her senses, caressing her skin. The churning sensation in her gut became heavier, and an internal voice she’d never heard before was shoutingmine.

She stilled at the oddness of the thought. Nero’s attention shifted from the phone to her. Gently, asking her permission with his eyes, he delicately trailed his fingers down her neck. In their wake, a shiver of desire ran through her.

“Mahalo, Eden.”

Velvety smooth, the deep baritone of his voice curled around her like a blanket, soothing the fever he’d stoked within her. Instead of giving in to the urge to see if those lips were as soft as they looked, she rose to stand on wobbly legs.

“I’m going to freshen up.”

Without waiting for his reply, she spun and retreated into the small space of the bathroom, managing to shut Marianne out despite loud protests. Her hasty retreat had been her version of a cold shower, though he’d never know.

It’d been an easy out, because things were getting too heavy. The mirror showed an obviously flushed woman that was in over her head with a man she’d just met. Eden tried to lose herself in the routine of her morning rituals, erasing at least the external signs of her indiscretion. She brushed her teeth, touched upher makeup, and quickly used dry shampoo on her hair before pulling it back into the same ponytail without fanfare. If only controlling her impulsive thoughts was as easy as taming flyaways.

Checking her watch, she gave a curt nod when it struck twenty minutes, then emerged into the … empty apartment.

“Nero?”

Had he just left? She could understand if he decided there was too much at stake, with the danger she was under and whatever was starting to happen between them, but … he should’ve left a note. Said goodbye. She expected that much.

Eden collapsed on the couch, noticing Nero neatly folded the blankets and stacked them on the end. Any trace of his having been there was gone, and for a moment, she allowed herself to be sad for what could have been.

Paramilitary architect. Don’t worry, Eden, I’ll protect your father and take you to paradise.It was too good to be true. No one showed up at her doorstep and gave her everything in her wildest dreams. What a fool she’d been—

A knock cut off her downward spiral of self-pity. No one ever came to her door; even deliveries rang downstairs first. Heart in her throat, she considered pretending she wasn’t home. A second knock had her tiptoeing to look through her peephole. A familiar face greeted her behind a tray of take-out coffees and pastry bags.

“I come bearing gifts.”

Eden quickly opened the door, peering up at him. “Did you get locked out?”

“Nope.” A dimple in his cheek caught her attention, but Nero kept speaking. “I went out to grab some coffee.”

“Oh. I—I thought you’d just left.”

Nero reared back as though she’d slapped him, affronted by the mere thought. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, but trust me, I would never do that to you.”

“How did you get back through the doors downstairs?”

“I stood there looking sad and lost for a few minutes and the florist let me in. We’ll have to have a chat with her when we return for your next lecture, she could give access to someone dangerous next time.”

Eden tried not to feel giddy about that ‘we’ and failed. Nero lifted the cup holder to her, and she greedily grabbed the one with ‘The Professor’ scribbled in marker on it. “Aw, sweet nectar of the gods.”

Taking her first swig, she savored the taste, sighing in pleasure. He’d bought her the Starbucks’ version of the same drink she’d ordered yesterday at the campus coffee shop. Nero had been listening—and she was so incredibly flattered by his attention.

Eden faintly heard the sound of soft leather landing on the coffee table behind her. She was too absorbed in her morning joe to pay much attention, so she didn’t notice Nero had stripped out of his shirt until she’d turned around to a fully naked male chest.

Every inch of him was delectable. More tattoos than she’d noticed earlier snaked across his skin. Delicately intertwined spades and diamonds decorated his shoulders, biceps, and forearms. On one of his pectorals, a perfectly round circle was bisected by a thick line which trailed downward all the way to his sternum. It seemed almost out of place with the tribal looking tattoos of his other arm, but no less fitting on his skin. Muscle jumped beneath his flawless golden-brown skin as he leaned down to grab his new pink shirt, a truly inspiring physical form. Her first impression of him had been that he looked like a Greek god, and seeing his imposing strength only cemented it.

He hadn’t noticed her gawking, which was just as well. At least not until her feet moved toward him of their own accord, and her fingertips met the lines of his tattoo. Electricity danced up her arm, radiating from the warmth of Nero’s chest.

That was when she noticed he’d gone still, like a predator waiting to pounce.

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