Free Remedy Maker by Sheri Fredricks Page B

squeezed, the cold metal bit into his palm.
    A heavy sensation grew behind his zipper, but he pushed it away. Aleksander sat in the next room, which put the hiatus on any repeat action for the next few hours. When a frown marred her brow, Rhy’s remedy maker side merged with his protective Centaur half, and both rushed to the forefront, leaving their stimulated buddy behind.
    Perhaps he had damaged her more than he’d thought. What an idiot he was. Bullheaded and thoughtless.
    Fury at his lack of sensitivity flared to life, and his unguarded temper rose. He had no one in his life because he deserved no one. Abruptly, he let go of the doorknob.
    “Patience?” His tone was harsher than he’d meant, and her eyelids flew open. She met his stare with her startled one. “Are you all right?”
    “Uh, yeah. I’m shizzle bad here.” A beautiful rose-color bloomed in her cheeks. The blush expanded to encompass her alluring pixie face, reached her chin, and tumbled over like a waterfall down her neck. She swallowed and licked her lips. At his raised brow, she added, “I’m fine.”
    He tightened his fists until his knuckles popped, and followed her line of vision to the right, near her hip. His lips curved up as her dainty hand snaked out, snatched her pink panties off the bed, and hid them under the blanket.
    Suspicion number one confirmed—but entry to his filthy imagination was denied.
    At least for the time being.
    As usual, his mind had jumped to Patience’s worst-case scenario without evidence to support the claims. He took a deep breath to calm his pounding libido and scraped the hair off his forehead.
    Would his mental trauma ever heal and leave him in peace?
    “Do you feel up to joining us in a briefing on our preliminary plans for locating the traitor faction?” Rhy asked. “You’re an important part of my investigative assignment, so I thought you should hear everything firsthand.”
    Her hazel eyes stared back at him, and it was her turn to cock a brow while she looked him up and down. “Do you always talk like that?”
    The question took Rhy completely by surprise, and with an emotional one-eighty, he barked out a laugh. “Me? The way I talk? You’re the one who speaks a bizarre dialect of English.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t understand what you’re saying half the time.”
    She scooted backward to lean against the headboard, bringing the blanket with her. A loose thread entertained her busy fingers. He thought of other ways to keep them occupied.
    “So I’m not perpetrating Poppins here, can I borrow some duds?”
    He threw his hands up. “Thank you for proving my point.” He chuckled. “Help yourself to whatever you need. There’re clothes in the closet and some stuff in the dresser. But,” he paused, scanning the outline of her slim body, “I doubt anything will fit you.”
    “Thanks, I’ll make do. I just need threads for chillaxin is all.” She slipped off the bed and tossed the throw blanket toward him. A scrap of pink lace fluttered to the floor mere inches from his boot.
    He rubbed his neck and backed away, sexual temperature rising. When he paused at the open door, trying to puzzle out her last sentence, she let out a delightful laugh. Manipulated like a stringed marionette, he turned back.
    “I’ll make a concerted effort to speak clearer to you,” she promised, and disappeared behind the closet door.
    He must have been frowning when he rejoined Aleksander in the living room, because his long-time friend seemed concerned. “Is your patient all right?”
    Oh yeah . . . Patience is more than fine. Her physician is the one messed-up in the head.
     “She’ll be out in a few to sit with us.” Rhy scrubbed a hand over his face and dragged it along the back of his tight neck. Alek wasn’t going to like this next bit of news, and he didn’t know how else to dish it out. “There’s something else.” He cleared his throat. “I need her briefed on our