Damian's Oracle (Chapter Five, page 2 of 13)

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As silence fell over the courtyard, she opened her eyes. The men were dispersing, and her heart leapt when she saw Damian's gaze riveted to her window. His look was intense, much different than the warmth he'd displayed earlier that afternoon.

By the look on Damian's face, he wasn't happy. She wondered if he knew what she saw. She snatched her jacket and pulled it on as she raced down the stairwell and down the hall to the front door. She jerked it open only to have it pushed shut by an olive hand planted above her head. She cringed at the thick forearm brushing her ear.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately.

"For what?" His tone was measured. His scent drove her body wild, the mix of sweat, darkness, and man.

"I don't know."

His hand dropped, and she faced him. He stood before her as he had in the sparring ring, sans any clothing but judo pants. She felt dwarfed and delicate next to the mass of roped muscle and taut skin.

Heat rose to her face as she stared openly. His chiseled features were unreadable and hard. The sword was still clenched in one hand. The honey eyes were intent, his face flushed from exertion. She'd had never felt overwhelmed by a man before, and she'd certainly never been a woman who felt weak-kneed! She leaned back against the door, mouth dry and legs shaky.

"I'm not angry at you," he said at last, taking a step back. "You have a rare ability among our kind. I didn't realize you were as … capable as you are. No one has ever been able to see into my mind."

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