Jane had never felt closer to death than she did at this moment. Her head felt like it was going to explode while the world seemed to spin much faster than normal. She had attempted to open her eyes already and quickly slammed them shut at the feeling of ten thousand needles penetrating her brain. However, she did savor the feeling of wonderfully chilled air sinking into her bones, quelling the nausea which threatened to strike any moment.

She slowly began to test her ability to move only to discover she couldn't, or at least, not very far. A wonderfully hard and lean body was pressed to every inch of her back while a strong arm held her captive by the waist.

What the hell had she done last night? And more importantly, who had she done it with?

Jane opened her bleary eyes and looked down at the hand holding her. She closed her eyes.

Not him.

Anybody but him.

Okay, almost anybody.

Just not him.

She gently eased her fingers over his hoping to make an escape attempt without waking him.

He laced his fingers with hers, and she was prevented from further escape.

Oh boy.

"Good morning."

How was it possible that he could make a simple greeting like 'good morning' sound like a warm endearment, an erotic invitation, and a death threat? All at the same time?!

"Morning," Jane replied simply.

Awkward was a pale and shallow word to describe how she felt in this moment. What could she possibly say that could make this situation seem like no big deal? Were there any words that could get her out of this fix?

She felt lips brushing against her ear just before he spoke in a low and seductive tone.

"I'm not quite sure how we find ourselves here, blissfully naked and wrapped around one another," He continued as he moved his thigh between hers where he had also been captured without Jane's realizing it, "But I have to say...I don't mind."

Of course he wouldn't. He was a man.

And taking a quick glance around the bedroom, she realized she would be the one doing the walk of shame. Why did they have to end up in his room?

"Loki?" Jane spoke his name in an attempt at a pleading voice, hoping she could somehow find a graceful way to remove herself from his arms. Somehow his name on her breath this morning seemed an entirely different experience. It hadn't come out pleading at all...more like some kind of endearing tone had been present. What the hell had happened to her?

She turned ever so slightly so that she could look him in the eyes. She had already learned the cardinal rule of dealing with Loki: Always maintain eye contact and never let him know you were afraid.

"I have absolutely no idea what happened last night," Jane offered. Since he'd already admitted he didn't know either, it seemed like a safe way to start the conversation.

"I do know one thing for certain," He eased a fingertip along her arm to her shoulder, "We may be naked and in bed, but no intimate acts were involved."

Jane was relieved and disappointed all at the same time. Maybe she was still drunk. She followed the path of his eyes as he focused on the curve of her neck, the intimate intersection of throat, chest, and arm, "How..how do you know?"

Loki grinned as he ever so slowly met her eyes, "You would wear my love mark, dear Jane. Probably several if I'm to be honest," He allowed his eyes to float over every inch of her bare body exposed to him, "Alas, all I see is beautiful unblemished skin."

"Don't let him get to you, Jane. Just get through the next few minutes. Let him enjoy his eye candy for a second then move on," Jane repeated the mantra in her mind before she placed a finger under his chin and directing his eyes back to hers, "My eyes are up here."

"Yes, they are," He drawled as she'd stated the obvious, "Dark and sultry, ready to invade a man's soul," His finger was wandering again across her cheek.

"I have a hangover," She declared, hoping to stop his early morning seduction before it got too far out of hand.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her for a moment before snapping his fingers. Jane felt the warm flow of magic stir around and through her body before the wave ebbed and left her feeling very much refreshed. His finger returned to her body, dancing ever so gently over the area he'd ogled before, "Any further objections?"

"Why are you doing this?" Jane met his eyes, trying not to convey the desire she was already feeling much less the desperate ache to run away.

"Isn't it obvious?" He spoke as his finger tip traveled over her pulse, "We are attracted to one another. You keep running from it, and I'm forever chasing you. Why not now, Jane?"

He lowered his lips towards hers but was met with her hand clamping over his mouth. She pushed him back as she sat up, "Not this again."

Loki leaned up in an elbow as he watched her scramble from the bed and attempt to find the slip dress she'd worn the night before, "You are still running."

"No, I am not running from anything," She declared as she found the dress on the floor at the end of the bed. She pulled the dress over head and shimmied to have the material continue down her body.

"Then what do you call this?" He asked as she walked to his side of the bed to find her high heels. As she bent to slip the sling backs of her shoes over her fingers, Loki captured her around the waist and pulled her back against him, "Stay. Let us partake of one another. I promise you will not regret it," He whispered against her ear.

Jane swallowed hard. The sexy bastard was determined. She'd give him that. He'd probably orchestrated this entire thing to get her to relent. She pulled together her resolve as she tugged at his hands, "No."

Loki released her from his hold only to be surprised when she turned to face him. Jane leaned forward and patted his cheek as she informed him, "You can have me when you love me."

"You play a dangerous game, Jane Foster," He threaded his fingers at her hair line as he attempted to kiss her once more. She turned just before his lips could touch hers.

"I need to go," Jane patted his cheek before gliding from his bedroom.

Loki fell back on the bed in a frustrated sigh. It should be easy to admit you love someone. Why could he not seem to utter the phrase? He was going to have to work on that and redouble his efforts. Jane Foster would be his.