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Her shoulders slumped as her gaze fell to the ground. “You find me undesirable—”
    “I’ll do it.” What the hell was he saying?
    Her gaze jerked up to meet his. “You agree?”
    “Yes, but with . . . three conditions.”
    Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are they?”
    How the hell would he know? He was making this shit up as he went. “Number one. I need to know your name.”
    “Oh. That’s easy enough.” She sat beside him, crossing her legs. “I am Neona.”
    Neona. He repeated her name in his head. He liked the sound of it. “Greek for ‘new moon’?”
    She ignored his question. “What is your second condition?”
    “You have to untie me.”
    She winced. “I don’t believe that is wise.”
    “How do you expect me to give you ten climaxes if I can’t use my hands?”
    She scoffed. “You were in jest.”
    “You think so? Untie me and find out.”
    She bit her lip, considering, then pulled out the knife sheathed to her calf. “I will not hesitate to use this if you hurt me.”
    “I would never harm you.”
    She gave him a doubtful look, then sawed through the ropes that bound his wrists.
    Once released, Zoltan sat up and, rubbing his sore wrists, watched her slip her wickedly sharp knife into the sheath strapped to her leg. Her linen trousers looked worn and ragged along the hem. Homemade, he thought, just like the leather moccasinlike slippers on her feet.
    Where did this woman live? Why had she attacked him? “The third condition is that we get to know each other.”
    A wary look crossed her face. “I don’t see why that is necessary.”
    “It is. I find you very . . . interesting.” Not to mention beautiful, brave, and fascinating.
    She shook her head. “I don’t think you need to know me in order to—”
    “On the contrary. I need to be in the mood to have sex. And my mood will improve the better I get to know you.”
    “There is not much I can tell you.”
    “Do you have secrets?” He leaned toward her. “Now you’re even more intriguing.”
    She winced. “Can we please get on with it? I’m running short on time.”
    “Because Freddy will show up? Who is he?”
    “A friend. Winifred.” After a pause, she added, “So she’s female.”
    “I gathered that,” he muttered. “And how did you learn English?”
    She hesitated, her gaze shifting to the woods as she considered her response. “From an Englishman.”
    Zoltan’s mouth twitched. She was as clever as she was beautiful. “And where is this Englishman? Is he tied to a tree somewhere?”
    She scoffed. “Of course not. He went home.” She glanced at Zoltan and added, “To England.”
    He gritted his teeth. Apparently, she still doubted his intelligence.
    “Do you know enough now?” She unfastened the ties on her breastplate. “Shall we begin?”
    He swallowed hard when she pulled off her armor. The breastplate must have been hot, for her thin linen top was damp with sweat and molded to breasts that were sweetly rounded and firm. “I . . . I’m not in the mood yet.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice the ever-growing bulge in his pants.
    She frowned at him. “Is it normal to be this slow?”
    He groaned inwardly at the sight of her nipples hardening in the cool air.
    You might as well enjoy yourself while you can, the leopard grumbled. Since you don’t have long to live.
    Zoltan glanced up at the cat. What do you mean?
    She’s going to kill you when she’s done.
    He flinched. You’re lying!
    She told me herself . The leopard licked a paw. Once she’s done with you, you’re out with the garbage.
    A chill ran down Zoltan’s spine. Could this be true? Was Neona intending to kill him? His mind tensed, rejecting the thought. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t.
    And yet hadn’t she tried to kill him from the start? Was she so heartless that she could have sex with a man and then execute him? If he had sex with her, could he impress her enough to change her mind?
    He winced. Performance