“So what are you really wearing?" The words left her mouth before she could consider them. She winced.He didn't seem to mind; in fact, he flashed her one of his brief smiles. "And if I said nothing at all?""Then I would point out that sometimes, if you look at something out of the corner of your eye, you can see right through glamour," she returned.That brought surprised laughter. "What a relief to us both then that I am actually wearing exactly what you saw me in this afternoon. Although one might point out that in that outfit, your last concern should be my modesty.”

“What are you planning to dowith all my points?”Points? It took Jenny a moment to remember what he was talking about. Points, when he smiled. She turnedaround slowly and put her hands on her hips.“Your points? Those are my points. I earned them. You can’t have them.”Gareth scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets.“Bollocks. I had to smile very hard for every single one of them. And if you don’t take this elephant and marry me, Iswear to God you’ll never get another point again.”Jenny’s world froze. Outside, she could hear the clear voice of a blackbird singing. It was overwhelmed by theringing in her ears. She turned to Gareth slowly.“What did you say?”“I said, you’ll never earn another point again. I haven’t smiled since you left me, and I miss it.” He kicked at the ground, his eyes tracing the dust. “I miss you.”“No, before that.”“Take this elephant—”“After.”He looked up. That feral light shone in his eyes again, but this time the wild look was a plea. A lion yearning to befreed from its cage. “Take me.” His voice was thick and husky. “Please. Jenny. I’m begging you.” She didn’t know what to say in answer. He’d shocked the words right out of her skin. She could only stare, as some frozen expanse inside her tingled to life. It hurt to want.”

“You should be wearing green," she said. "To match your eyes.""In case you never noticed, my eyes are gray.""Never mind that," she said, once again waving my words away. "That brown washes out your skin tone."Why was she so concerned about my clothing choices? That was completely unlike her. "I like to look washed out," I said dryly. "Otherwise people are intimidated by my glorious beauty.”

“She realized she’d been staring only when he said, his voice lower and huskier, “Who are you looking for?”His words snapped her out of her terrible trance. “I . . . I . . .” she thought furiously and said the only thing that came to mind. “For you. I was looking for you.”Suspicion flashed in his sea-blue eyes. “In the rigging?”“Yes. Why not?”“Either you’re very ignorant about what a captain does, or you’re lying. Why is it?”Ignoring the plummeting sensation in her stomach, she forced a smile to her face. “Really, Gideon, you are so suspicious. Last night you accused me of plotting behind your back, and this morning you accuse me of lying. Who else would I be looking for but you?”

“What is your name?" she asked."Names are like clothes, lady. I have many.""And which one do you wear tonight?"The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?""Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours.”

“You missed him," she said. Somehow it didn't seem possible. He was so sure of himself, almost invincible in his manner."I hit what I was aiming at," he answered quietly. "We have to keep moving. I'm hoping I slowed them down, but we can't count on it." He forced the oars through the water with his powerful arms and the boat shot through the channel toward open water."I didn't feel anything."His gaze brushed her face, an odd little caress she felt all the way through her body, just as if he'd touched her with his fingers. "I wasn't aiming at you."She caught the fleeting glint of his white teeth in what could have been a brief smile. One dark eyebrow rose in response. "Has anyone ever told you your sense of humor needs a little work?""No one's ever accused me of having a sense of humor before. You keep insulting me. First you accuse me of missing, and then you try to tell me I have a sense of humor."His face was made of stone, his tone devoid of all expression. His eyes were flat and ice cold, but Dahlia felt him laughing. Nothing big, but it was there in the boat between then, and the terrible pressure in her chest lifted a bit. "And it needs work," she pointed out. "Get it right." She even managed a brief smile of her own to match his.”