Immortally Ever After by Angie Fox

hoped his ass was hanging out. He deserved it. I planted my hands on my hips. “I thought you’d wait for me.”
    He frowned. “You thought wrong.”
    “Come on,” I said, leading him to an area just off the nurses’ station. I closed the door to a room that held four private examination rooms.
    The curtain screeched as I ripped one open and ushered him into a six-by-six area with a bed.
    “This is good,” he said.
    Good, my ass.
    It was even darker in here, the blue lights set low. I clicked on the portable medical lamp and we were flooded with light.
    My tongue hit the top of my mouth when I took a good look at him. I could see his ridged chest against the thin material. And my heart did a little flip-flop as I spotted the sheen of sweat at the hollow of his neck.
    He was the only man who could make an examination gown sexy. And I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t get a grip.
    He touched my arm and my skin burned at the contact. “Have you gotten the dagger back?” He leaned closer than he needed, realized it, and pulled back.
    “No,” I said, cheeks heating under his scrutiny.
    “‘No’ to the touch or ‘no’ about the knife?”
    “Either. Both. Take your pick.”
    He blew out a breath. “Damn it. I need to know what’s going on.”
    “Nothing.” So far. “Of course, that’s usually when things go to hell.”
    “That’s why I’m here.”
    “You can’t fix everything,” I reminded him.
    His jaw tightened. “Want to bet?”
    I shook my head. “Let me see your bandages.” I led him to the narrow bed, ignoring my body’s reaction to him in the small space.
    Bad idea, I realized too late. He was wearing a one-piece exam gown. How the hell was I supposed to do my job without—oh, my.
    I cleared my throat. “Let me just slide the top over…” his massive biceps.
    He bent his head as I reached for the ties around his neck. I wondered why he didn’t try to make it easier, and then I saw the way his hands were fisted at his sides.
    I slid the gown down over his broad shoulders and chest, my body tightening in response. The cloth caught at his waist, just below his washboard abs, and I made sure it stayed there.
    “Stop,” he said, reaching for me, almost as if he were in pain.
    “What?” I asked, tucking the gown under his thighs, realizing too late that I was touching him way too much.
    He was hard. All over.
    I refused to look.
    Or to think about the way my skin flushed or how my core had gone molten. I could still be professional about this.
    Distant.
    Even if the man, not to mention his mere presence, took up every inch of the small exam room.
    I traced my fingers along the edge of the bandage at his chest, and examined the pink, puckered skin. Then I did the same for the cuts to his arms and shoulder. They were raw, but he was healing nicely. “You look good,” I said, refusing to think about the way I was touching him.
    My elbow brushed his arm and I yanked it back like I’d just touched fire.
    Galen was wound just as tight as I was.
    “When I was hurt in the escape, I didn’t know if I’d ever make it back to you.” His voice was thick, his eyes just as blue as I’d remembered. “I’ve never been this beat up before.”
    “You’re mortal now.” He’d given up his demigod status for me.
    The intensity of his gaze nearly undid me. “It’s worth it.”
    Now I knew why I’d fallen headlong into disaster for this man.
    I smiled and ruffled his hair. “I don’t know. I think I’d take the superfast healing.”
    He tilted his head into my hand. “I preferred the megastrength. You haven’t lived until you can bend spoons.”
    “That was one way you never tried to woo me.” He’d preferred blueberries, long walks, and saving me from killer scorpions and soul-eating Shrouds.
    He nodded slowly, his face a mask of concern. “So you’re saying spoons would have made the difference.”
    I tossed an exam glove at him and he caught it.
    He grinned, sobering as he