Marked by Elisabeth Naughton Page A

where had he seen her before?
    She stepped back so quickly, she hit the doorjamb with her shoulder. Then jumped as if the wood had bitten her in the ass.
    And he just couldn’t stop it. Amusement lifted his brow. Had he thought this woman was a threat? She was no more dangerous than an ant.
    “Okay,” she managed. “I’ll, uh, be in the other room if you need me.” She turned and fled.
    Alone, Theron’s curiosity faded as he stared at the open door. Her exit had not only robbed him of her unusual company but also of his arousal.
    Confused as to what was happening to his body and why, he decided maybe he wasn’t as well as he’d first thought. He pulled the covers back and looked down at his injured leg. The stitches were barely visible, and the wound was no longer red or inflamed. In another day or so it would be nothing but another scar to add to his collection.Judging from the other marks on his body, they’d healed equally well.
    Unfortunately, though, the strange sensations buzzing around in his chest and head warned him he wasn’t back to normal, and given that, it wouldn’t be wise to try to open the portal and send himself back to Argolea just yet. In his weakened state, he’d be a prime target for the daemons, and he didn’t even know if he had enough power to get home once he made the connection.
    No, he decided. A better idea would be to stay here tonight. To eat the food this unusual but harmless human had made for him. To relax, to regain some of his strength so that tomorrow—maybe—he could head home.
    As he tossed his sore legs over the side of the bed and rolled to his feet, his jaw tightened at the stab of pain in his thigh. He reached out to support his weight on the footboard and bit back a groan. Oh, yeah, definitely not well enough to try to make it home. Even the strongest of the Argonauts had limits, not that he was about to admit that to any of his kinsmen.
    He ground his teeth to keep from whimpering like a little gynaíka as he shuffled to the bathroom. Inside he flipped on the light and started the shower, then moaned in relief as the hot water cascaded over his aching body and washed away the last sting from his cuts and bruises.
    And though he didn’t mean to, as his eyes slid closed, he couldn’t help but think of the woman in the kitchen and imagine her fingers and lips running down his damp skin, instead of water.
    Good gods. A woman? He was definitely more injured than he’d thought. His lusting after a human was clear proof he wasn’t right in the head. It didn’t matter how sexy she was or what her reasons were for helping him. She was human, and for him that meant off-limits. Forever.

C HAPTER F IVE
    “What do I smell?”
    The spoon in Casey’s hand clattered to the stovetop, bounced off the surface and hit the tile floor at her feet. Soup splashed onto her sweater and jeans, and she hissed in a breath.
    “Skata,” Theron said, moving toward her. “Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine.” Casey reached for the hand towel hooked over the oven-door handle. She swiped at the mess on her stomach and down her thighs.
    Smooth, Case. Real smooth.
    “I did not mean to startle you.”
    Her hand paused at the sound of that sexy accent, then she gave herself a mental shake and continued wiping her clothes. The man moved like a silent shadow, even injured as he was. She was sure she’d only heard the shower turn off moments ago.
    “You didn’t,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I was thinking about something else.”
    Yeah, right.
    He bent at her feet to retrieve the spoon. She looked down and followed him with her eyes as he pushed to stand, then wished she hadn’t.
    He towered over her. Nearly six and a half feet and at least two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. His hair was damp from his shower, brushed back from his face and just long enough to curl at his collar in a way that begged her to run her fingers through the damp mass. The long-sleeved