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“Fly with me,” he murmured.
“Can we do that?”
He laughed, the sound low and husky. “It’s your dream. We can do whatever you want.” He paused, then murmured against her neck, “What do you want, Thena?”
“Don’t call me that.”
He chuckled. “Why not?”
“It’s not my name.”
“Your name is too formal for you, or for this moment at any rate. We’re naked and exploring the universe.”
“We are not—” She looked down and gasped. Where had their clothes gone? She hadn’t dreamed them off! “How did you do that?” she demanded.
He laughed again. “I didn’t do it. You did.”
“Stop saying that,” she snapped.
“But it’s true.”
Before she could argue any further, he was kissing her again, and all thought of who’d caused what evaporated into the night.
His body was magnificent. He looked like a Greek statue, with cleanly sculpted muscles, strong without being massive, graceful but still managing to be entirely masculine. Really, it wasn’t fair for a man to be that beautiful. The nagging sense of inadequacy Athena had been experiencing ever since he burst into the lab came roaring back.
“Why are you frowning?” he murmured.
This was a dream. Only a dream. She could tell it like it was. “You’re so…gorgeous. And I’m so…plain. I feel dowdy next to you.”
That occasioned a crack of laughter from him. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”
“Every morning. And it has never lied to me yet. I’m at best an average looking woman.”
“Then there must be something wrong with your eyesight.” She started to argue, but he cut her off. “I’m serious. Your eyes are so extraordinary, I can’t tear my gaze away. The intelligence and warmth that shines out of them is breathtaking.”
She huffed, and he laughed again. “Some women are flashy, some are pretty,” he told her. “Some are fashion model striking. But you—you’re different.”
“Oh, here we go. If you say I’m interesting or unique looking, I’ll slug you.”
He grinned. “You happen to be both of those things. You are…” he thought about it, and then said, “…timeless.”
“What’s that? A politically correct metaphor for looking middle-aged?”
“Jeez. You’re not this prickly when you’re awake,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “Yes, I am. I was just being polite this afternoon. I figured I’d break you in slowly to how miserable I am to work with.”
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