Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter

a nearby window, caressing her with an angelic glow, paying her the glorious tribute she deserved.

      Beside her, a soft melody hummed from a magical black box. His first instinct was to attack, but then he noticed how her foot tapped in rhythm to the beat, and he remained in place. ’Twas like her talking “answering machine,” he realized.

      Today Katie wore short, tight drocs and a brown top held in place by thick straps. Though both garments fit her curves like a second skin, neither the top nor bottom garment was truly an alluring piece, yet on her they looked stunning. Breathtaking. He could have gazed upon her exquisite loveliness forever.

      Which was strange, he thought, considering he’d judged her merely beautiful before. As he watched her chew on the end of a thin writing instrument, moving those lush lips up and down—mimicking an action he had often fantasized about in the last days—he decided he had the right of it now. The word beautiful did no justice to such ethereal perfection.

      This woman possessed a splendor beyond any he’d ever known.

      He must have made a sound, a groan of need, mayhap, because she swiveled and faced him.

      “Jorlan! Good morning.” Her gaze raked over him, and her expression clouded with concern. “Not feeling so well, huh?”

      He scowled at the reminder. “I long to impale all four of your siblings onto a pike so that hundreds of hungry animals may gnaw upon their flesh. Mayhap then they will learn the proper respect for a warrior.”

      “You still have yet to teach me,” she muttered. Then she flashed her teeth in a wide smile. “Call me morbid, but I like seeing you like this. You’re not quite so intimidating.”

      “When have I ever intimidated you?”

      “Oh, you have,” she confessed. “More times than I care to admit. Now have a seat before you topple over. I’ll get you some coffee and aspirin. They’re miracle cures, I promise you. They saved my life every time I overindulged.” She hopped to her feet.

      Fast losing strength, he sank into the offered chair. “Did those devils once poison you, as well?”

      “No.” She chuckled, a sound that skipped along his senses with an almost physical pleasure. “I did it to myself.”

      “Why would you purposefully poison yourself?”

      She poured black liquid inside a cup and handed it to him. With deft movements, she opened cabinet after cabinet, searching inside. “The first time, I was mostly curious and didn’t know when to stop. The few times after that, I made the mistake of drinking on an empty stomach.”

      He rested his chin in his hand. “I had no idea you were such a masochist, katya.”

      She stopped and swung to face him, palms on hips. She was frowning. “Just where did you learn that word?”

      “Many spans ago, a woman and her lover came to the garden and—”

      “Never mind,” Katie interjected. “I don’t want to know.” She threw open the last cabinet. “I’m going to kill Nick,” she ground out.

      “Not if I kill him first,” Jorlan muttered darkly.

      “Every time he comes over, he rearranges my cabinets so I can’t find anything the next day. This time I’m going to double kick that man’s family jewels until he’s singing soprano. That ought to teach him.”

      Jorlan almost laughed. He did grin. The things this woman said could turn him inside out trying to understand, but for once he totally and completely grasped her meaning. And he was instantly glad he was not Nick James. A woman’s wrath was one thing, but the wrath of Katie James was quite another.

      “Wait!” she exclaimed. “I found it.” She whipped a small white bottle from the bottom shelf. After popping the top, she shook two pink tablets onto her hand. “Here.” Palm outstretched, she offered him the pills. “Swallow. Don’t chew.”

      He weighed them in his hand, unsure how they could help him. With a shrug, he tossed each tablet into his mouth. He washed them down with a long gulp of coffee, almost gagging as the hot liquid scalded a path down his throat. Strawberry soda he liked; this he did not.

      “Are you, too, trying to kill me?” He glared over at Katie.

      She shrugged delicately. “Coffee is an acquired taste, I guess. I don’t drink it often, but every once in a while I indulge.”

      Scowling, he wiped the remaining liquid from his mouth. She watched him, following the action of his hand with her gaze. When he stilled, she leaned over the counter and rested her elbows on the speckled surface. A dazed, dreamy look entered her eyes, as if she were lost in some sort of fantasy. Just what was she picturing in that mind of hers? Knowing Katie, she was probably imagining herself swimming in a giant tub of her green liquid. Or mayhap, like him, was she suddenly imagining naked bodies and heart-pounding kisses?

      Jorlan’s blood instantly kindled. They’d come close to coupling yestereve.

      So close.

      Two more minutes and he would have had her naked. Three more minutes and he would have been inside her. Four and he would have had her calling his name as wave after wave of pleasure hit her. He loved when she climaxed. When she’d experienced her pleasure that first time, he’d nearly spilled his seed, so intense had his delight been. He’d never witnessed anything quite so sensual.

      Curse Nick James!

      In the next instant, Katie shook her head, and her dreamy expression vanished. Jorlan wanted to rail at the heavens. Earnest now, she slid a single sheet of paper directly in front of him. “Look here,” she said, oblivious to the riotous needs crashing through his body. Her fingertip brushed the side of his hand and he sucked in a breath. “I made a list of all the psychics in Texas. I’ve called most of them and crossed off the ones that seemed duplicitous. We have time to visit three, maybe four, then we have to go to work.”

      Only one day ago he would have snatched up the list and demanded they visit each location until they found exactly what he needed. Right now, however, he didn’t want to think past bedding Katie (when did he not think about bedding her?) and making her his temporary life-mate. Bedding her would have to wait until they had enough time to enjoy each other to the fullest, for he knew now that he would settle for nothing less than long, leisurely loving.

      The binding he could take care of now.

      Just how would she respond? He watched her, trying to predict the outcome. Her hair cascaded down her back, thick and glossy, like a crown of brilliance reserved only for celestial creatures. Her expression was guarded. Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he pushed to his feet, stepped around the counter, and closed the distance between them. Positioned behind her, he clasped several tendrils of her hair to his nose, sniffed their floral essence, and caressed them over his cheek. His eyes closed in surrender. “Katya?”

      “Hmm?” She leaned back against him.

      “I would like you to go to Imperia with me.”

      “What?” Katie spun around to face him, all of a sudden at a loss for words.

      “When we find a sorcerer, I want you to come with me to my homeland.”

      He said it so simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to hop across one galaxy to another. The idea tempted her. Exploring alien homes, eating alien food, and best of all, sleeping in an alien bed with Jorlan. Could she abandon her work, though, for such a vacation? “How long would you want me to stay?”

      “However long you like.” He propped his hip against the counter’s edge, and pinned her with his cool blue stare. “Sorcerers abound in my homeland. When you are ready to depart, we will purchase an open vortex. ’Tis that simple.”

      “No, it’s not that simple. I hate to bring this up, but what if…what if you turn back to stone while we’re there?”

      A muscle tightened