The Cursed (League of the Black Swan) Read Online Free PDF

him to resist.
    “You are in very bad trouble,” he murmured, as he bent his head down to kiss her. At the first taste of her lips, the world went black around him to the sound of her sweet, sweet voice.
    “You idiot.”

     
    When Luke collapsed, Rio dropped her small backpack on the floor and guided him down to the ancient couch, which was the same dark-green-and-brown plaid it had been when she’d last delivered a package there. In fact, not much of anything had changed. Not even Luke. Not really.
    She brushed a strand of his silky black hair out of his eyes and took the opportunity to look her fill of him, since he was out cold. He looked exactly the same as the first time she’d met him—but not. A little harder; the lines and angles of his face were more pronounced. A little older, maybe; but then again, no. He never aged, or so she’d heard. Mrs. G once had let slip that she’d known him for more than sixty years.
    His shirt was ripped and bloody over his ribs, and sticky smears of his blood were drying on her shirt. She took a deep breath and forced herself to quit staring at him like an idiot and do something useful. She hobbled over to the small bathroom, washed her hands, and found the first-aid kit under the sink. With that and a clean wet towel, she limped back to the couch to clean him up and see if he needed a doctor. Not that he’d agree to go to a hospital, probably, but she knew a friend of a friend who might be willing to come out and help.
    She pulled the ottoman over to sit on and unbuttoned his shirt with fingers that barely shook at all, pulling the edges apart over his muscled chest and abdomen. She caught her breath at the wave of heat that swept through her at the sight of all that masculine beauty but shoved her reaction aside to focus on his injury. The gashes from the Grendel’s claws were an angry, puffy red, but they seemed to be closing already, courtesy of Luke’s superior healing powers. She’d heard that he could heal from a gunshot wound overnight. Of course, that was the kind of rumor that made some want to elect him sheriff and made others want to shoot him on sight.
    She’d gathered up all of her courage and asked him out for coffee once, wondering if the sparks that flew between them were only in her imagination. He’d shot her down, telling her he didn’t have time for “meaningless flings.”
    The sting had dulled over the course of the year, so the memory didn’t slice through her as sharply as it had before. She hadn’t even tried to be social much since then, afraid to risk rejection all over again.
    Not good enough. Not wanted.
    “Not
now
,” she told herself, impatient with her own stupidity.
    Time enough for useless bouts of wounded pride when their lives weren’t in danger. She concentrated on his wounds and cleaned the gashes out as best she could and then liberally smeared antibiotic ointment on them before bandaging them. The stark white of the bandages over his side contrasted sharply with the bronze of his skin and the silky arrow of dark hair that disappeared into the top of his jeans. Rio caught her breath at the sight and couldn’t resist touching his hot, smooth skin. The last thing she’d expected when she’d planned to hire Luke was that she’d have her hands on him within thirty minutes of finding him.
    She glanced up and found him watching her, the brilliant blue of his eyes focused all too clearly on her face. She blushed and yanked her hands away, clasping them in her lap.
    “I was just cleaning your injury,” she said, trying not to sound defensive.
    He glanced down at the bandages, wincing a little when he moved his head. “Thanks. How long was I out?”
    “Not even ten minutes. That venom hit you kind of hard, though, maybe you should rest—”
    But he was already swinging his legs to the side of the couch and sitting up, the movement causing the muscles in his abdomen to pull tight, and her mind went blank before wondering how