Star Crossed by Trista Ann Michaels Page A

movements, she wondered if she could have a physical relationship with him and not let her heart get involved. But then what would she do if it did get involved? She didn’t want to spend night after night crying herself to sleep, hating herself for once again losing her heart to someone she shouldn’t.

    She was almost thirty years old. She should know not to believe in fantasies. Stefan was one of the richest, most powerful men in the galaxy. He would never want her for anything other than a fling. And she couldn’t forget that for even a second.
    “Dinner’s ready.”
    She jerked in surprise and swung her head toward Stefan’s voice. He stood just inside the door, one hand on his hip, the other on the doorframe. He had changed into a pair of dry beige pants and what looked like a blue wool tunic. Slipping further into the water, she frowned at him. “Do you mind?”
    “Not at all.”
    He grinned and leaned his back against the corner of the jamb. He tilted his head to the side, studying her as he crossed his arms over his chest.
    She growled and splashed water at him, hitting the floor by his feet.
    “You missed.”
    “You know, it just amazes me that some woman hasn’t had you shot yet.” Stefan chuckled. “You may very well be the first.” Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out a towel and laid it on the side of the tub.
    She warily watched him as he stepped back into the bedroom, giving her some much-needed privacy. Standing, she quickly grabbed the towel—keeping her eye on the door the whole time—and dried herself. She realized she didn’t have any clothes and groaned.
    Wrapping the towel around herself, she called out, “Stefan.”
    “Yes?” He came to the door but kept his back to her. Silently, she commended him.
    “I need a robe. Is there anything out there that would work?”
    “How about this?” He held his hand up, a black robe dangling from his finger. “I must have left it the last time I stayed here.”
    “That will work.” She snatched the robe from his hand and stepped back into the bathroom. She slipped her arms through the sleeves, then tied it tightly around her

    waist. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wasn’t at all comfortable with the thin, revealing robe.
    Krista could see her distended nipples through the silk and with her hair piled on her head, a few damp tendrils hanging down, it made her look sultry. Which was most definitely not what she had in mind. Maybe clothes would be a good idea.
    “You better hurry or dinner’s going to get cold.” The amusement in his tone was obvious, and she scowled in the direction of his voice. When she heard her stomach growl from hunger she decided to just forget it and go eat.
    She stepped into the bedroom and was struck speechless by the scene. He had moved the small table to the center of the room and covered it in food that smelled heavenly. Her stomach growled so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
    There were candles everywhere. On the dresser, on the table and even scattered along the walls on little ledges created by the uneven rock. The candlelight reflected off the damp walls of the cave, creating a shimmering effect she found beautiful—and very romantic. She stared back at him, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
    “I wasn’t in there that long. How did you do all this?”
    “You were in there longer than you think.” He grinned as he pulled her chair out for her.
    “I fell asleep?”
    She wasn’t sure she believed that, but now that she thought about it, maybe she had.
    “You were snoring.”
    Krista frowned. “I do not snore.”
    Stefan just smiled in response.
    “What’s for dinner?” she asked as she sat in the chair, changing the subject.

    “It’s a Tilarian soup called mishowie.” He ladled the food into a bowl and handed it to her.
    “It smells wonderful.” She lifted her spoon and took a small bite, then smiled. “It tastes similar to chicken soup.”
    “There’s also fruit and