“It is far more complicated than that,” he said. “You drew blood with them both, you’ve killed with them. They are marked to you now and would not cut for many other people. Which makes them useless for me to take back. Hence, no returns.”

He was more and more awake; I could see it in his eyes. “You’re a jerk.”

“I am honest. Occasionally that makes me the bad guy.” He reached out and took hold of my wrist so fast, I didn’t see him even move.

With a swift yank, he drew me to him until we were nose to nose. One fingertip traced the side of my face. “You are very interesting, Breena O’Rylee. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so intrigued.” The heat of his fingertip was doing really wild things to my insides, cranking up the heat as though I were the forge and he knew exactly how to light my fire. In fact, I was sure he did. And that was the thing. Men like him were dangerous. In all the wrong ways.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move if I’d wanted. So, I did the next best thing. I used my mouth. Not that way, get your head out of the gutter. “My gran warned me about men like you.”

His lips quirked up. “What did she say?”

“She told me to kick them in the balls and run for the hills.”

He burst out laughing, his smile like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. I didn’t know if it was whatever magic he had, or just him. I was betting on a combo of the two. But I tried to pull away from him anyway.

I thought he’d try to hold me, but he let me go. I scrambled back across the bed, the remembered sensation of his body pressed against mine still very much felt on every inch of my skin, hot and wanting.

Damn it.

“Take the knives.” He lay back. “Or I’ll just throw them in the forge and melt them down to nothing. And you still owe me for them on that last bounty.”

My jaw flapped. “You really are an ass.”

But I scooped up the knives, unable to believe they could just be melted into nothing, and strode out of his room, followed by his low chuckle that continued to tug on parts of me that I hadn’t noticed for the last ten years with Himself.

A few weeks in Savannah, and I was like a raging hussy.

I would have slammed the bedroom door shut if it had been possible, both out of annoyance toward him, and myself for my reaction to him. But it was too heavy, and I had to settle for the satisfying screech it made as I slowly shut it.