And To Cherish (3 page)

“Or unlucky,” Nigel inserted.

“Here is the part you two must have missed. Mating isn’t optional. There is no magic potion for it. There is nothing that will stop it. There are only two choices available to you if your mate happens across your path. Acceptance. Or denial. Mating can be the greatest gift...or so I’ve been told. It can also be the gravest pain. Very few have denied it. Because the consequences are...Nigel? Would you care to offer some insight?”

“Oh. Let me list some of them. Misery. Depression. Anger. Pain. Tears. Geez. I better stop before I need tissues.”

“Exactly. So. There you have it. Both of you. There is no potion or spell against mating. You can consider it a gift. Or a curse. Whatever it becomes, is up to you. It’s your choice. If you don’t mind, I believe I’ll ring off now...before I suffer a bout of melancholy, myself. Good-bye. Both of you.”

There was a click but she could still hear breathing. That was odd. And then Nigel spoke up in a broken whisper.

“Cherish?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t choose denial. Trust me. Oh. Shit.”

She heard Nigel’s heart-wrenching sob just before he hung up.

“Just tell me you got her name. That’s all I want to know.”

“No.”

“No – as in you didn’t get it, or no – you’re not going to tell me.”

“John—”

“Come on, Sam. You’re the most eligible bachelor in Missouri. The least you can do is help a fellow bachelor out.”

“I am not the most eligible anything. In any state. Or city. I’m a bird-nerd. Remember?”

“Nice try. I read the article.”

“You always believe everything you read?”

“I have eyes. Women come out of the woodwork when you show up. I mean look at what happened tonight.”

“I sure wish you’d turn back into an intern and help me here. Otherwise we’re never getting to go home tonight. Oh. Crap. I hate suits.”

The sound of ripping cloth was loud. That’s what came of hefting bird cages through the halls and into a van while dressed in a form-fitting tuxedo. Because the intern who’d been hired to do it was too busy dissecting things, making up scenarios, and mulling Sam’s love life.

“It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

“Come on, John. Give it a rest. Grab the drop-cloth, will you? You still have the keys to the sanctuary? The code for the gate?”

“Well, you have something that attracts the females like buzzards to a kill. I’m going with the hair. How many years did it take to grow out?”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll get the drop-cloth or we’re never getting out of here.”

“Come on. At least tell me you got her number. Will you do that?”

“No,” Sam replied.

“You didn’t get her number, either?”

“What do you mean, either?”

“Ah-ha! So you
did
get her name and number. I knew it!”

“Where did you come up with that?”

John didn’t answer, but at least the intern was heading back toward the room they’d been given to prep. It was cleaned out now. Except for the floor covering they’d brought. Finally. Sam pulled off his jacket, checked it for damage. Couldn’t see any. He put it back on. It was too chilly outside without it. He should have brought a change of clothing. His work gear. Khakis and a shirt. A corduroy jacket. Something normal. And he should have escaped earlier. Found some excuse to avoid an additional ninety minutes of time spent milling about, meeting people.

He knew the exact amount of time because each minute had ticked by with the strangest sense of slowness. Gestures were lengthy and ponderous affairs, while everyone had spoken like they were on a different speed setting than he was. He was on alert. Primed. Tense. Nightshade had been the same. The bird had fussed and fidgeted until Sam had excused himself for a bit to get the bird to the intern, John.

He needed to remember all of this for next time. He made a mental note. Bring a change of clothing. Use the bird for an excuse to flee. Sam had already been informed there would definitely be a next time. The director was very pleased with the amount of donations they’d raised tonight. Sam hadn’t replied. He was locked in. He knew it. The director did, too. If Sam hadn’t wanted to make publicity appearances for the sanctuary, he shouldn’t have agreed to it on his employment paperwork.

“So. Are you meeting up with her later?”

Sam groaned. The intern was back.

“You are, aren’t you? I mean if I’d had a chick like that just step into my world, I’d be meeting up with her. At my first opportunity. Any warm-blooded male would.”

“It’s really late, John. They’re waiting up for Nightshade at the sanctuary.”

“And you have plans?”

“Yeah. I do. A drive home. A hot shower.”

“And a hotter chick?”

“I’m leaving now. You finish up.”

Sam pulled the door open with a little too much strength. He had to physically prevent it from slamming into the metal wall-guard. He rarely got frustrated and never exhibited it. But he refused to discuss the woman. He couldn’t. It wasn’t due to the missed connection with her. It was because he was still enwrapped in a sense of awe. Something extraordinary had happened. Something massive. And intriguing.

And very rare.

He’d just had a ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ experience. He didn’t question it. Somehow, he knew. Every minute that passed felt like it carried her image. The last thing he wanted right now was an inquisitive intern picking through what had happened with a fine-toothed comb. He already sensed he was going to regret this evening. Bitterly.

But not yet.

His SUV beckoned with a beep and headlight flash when he clicked the key-chip. Good thing. The parking lot was large. Lit in sections with tall lights that hummed when he neared them. It was a good-sized walk to where he’d parked. The windshield wasn’t frosted enough for scraping. And he’d backed in. No surprise there. He always did.

The leather seats felt like they hugged his ass with cold fingers as he sat. It was these tuxedo pants. He wouldn’t be able to feel temperature through heavy cotton twill khakis. Sam buckled his seat belt. Checked all the mirrors. Stereo setting. Started the engine. Put the transmission in gear. Turned on his lights.

And his headlights illuminated the woman. Right in front of him.

Sam’s foot slid off the brake, the vehicle jerked forward. His heart stopped. He barely stifled a shriek.

Oh shit! Oh shit!

He hadn’t hit her, had he?
Oh shit.
If he’d hurt her...?

It took a second to slam the vehicle into park, unfasten and yank the seatbelt off. He did it simultaneously. The next second was spent grabbing the door release and bursting out onto the pavement. Maybe two seconds elapsed before he reached the front bumper.

And there wasn’t anything there.

Sam spun, and then bent to check beneath the vehicle. It was dark. Shadowed. He had to go onto his belly to check for anything silhouetted in what light was available. The space was still empty. Nothing there but asphalt. Dirt. Wheels. His vehicle undercarriage. He stood again, slowly dusting his palms on what had been pristine black superfine wool. He checked his bumper next. Nothing odd there. No mark. Or dent. Good grief. Was he seeing things now? Was that it?

“Doctor Reid?”

His name came from right behind him. This time he did let out a girly shriek. It was accompanied by a jump and twirl, but at least he didn’t fall.
Oh. Gee
. It was the woman. She had a voice that carried all kinds of undertones. Breathless-sounding. Ear-pleasing. It matched the view. He hadn’t imagined anything. She was standing about a foot from him, lighted perfectly by his headlamps. She was small, just as he’d guessed. Her head barely reached his chin. Hers was tipped upward so she could meet his eyes. His first impression had been dead-on. She was gorgeous. Perfect skin. Dark, thick, wavy hair. The shadow of lengthy lashes hit her cheeks as she blinked. She licked her lips. And then he caught the flash of what looked like a sword hilt. Peeking over her shoulder.

A sword?

Oh baby!

This ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ experience just went into hyper-fantastic. It was beyond impossible. He’d seen the Warrior-Goddess look. Consumed it in graphic books. Fantasized about it. He’d never once imagined he’d be around a real warrior-goddess. That might even mean that those tight jeans of hers weren’t just hugging thighs...they were wrapped around tight, muscled limbs. A glance confirmed it.

Oh. Wow.

His heart did some sort of stutter-blip that almost hurt. He already knew she affected him mentally. Apparently, the physical reaction to her was worse. Instantaneous. Massive. Undeniable. He cleared his throat and pulled on the bowtie to gain some room for a swallow. It didn’t work. And it probably looked stupid.

“Um. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t hit you?”

“No.”

“You sure? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Oh. Thank goodness. What a relief. You have no idea.”

He sighed. A wave of something resembling weakness washed over him. It dissipated within moments. He hadn’t realized relief had a tangible force that accompanied it. He did now.

“They called you...Samson,” she informed him.

Oh. Her voice was another force to be dealt with. She had perfect enunciation of each word, too. He smiled.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“I like it.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Said with her voice, he liked it a lot, too. Actually, he decided he didn’t care what she called him as long as she kept talking.

“Do they call you that because you grew your hair out?”

“Um. It was more the other way around. I grew it out because my name is Samson. You don’t get to choose your name in this world. Actually, you don’t get to choose much. Parentage. Birth order. Your name. My parents gave me an odd-ball name. So...I just went with it.”

She smiled slightly. His knees wavered
. Geez
. The physical reactions to her were increasing? Was that even possible?

“Oh.”

“I mean, it could be worse. My dad’s name was Howard. I could be a Howie.”

“Howie?” Her head tilted.

“Okay. Long story short - let’s just say, sometimes your name fits you. And sometimes it doesn’t. Like yours. Which is...?”

“I would say your name fits you perfectly. Doctor. Samson. Reid.”

She split his name into three distinct sections. His ears started buzzing slightly. This was really weird. And getting weirder. It was like they spoke, but they could be saying anything. Words and content didn’t matter. There was an undercurrent happening. It seemed to generate from her before reaching out and grabbing at him. The air felt more alive. Brighter. Electrified. He’d never felt anything like it. He had to physically restrain the urge to move closer to her.

“Look. Um. Are you...alone?”

It was stupid question time, but he hadn’t even managed to find out her name yet. His engine was running beside him, putting unnecessary pollution in the air, while the temperature wasn’t getting any warmer. He glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting others, and then looked back down at her.

“Yes.”

“You hungry?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

A slight smile touched her lips again. A tingle slid through his belly as he watched it. He worked at stifling it. This was ridiculous.

“I am replete.”

“Well...maybe I can give you a lift somewhere?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I’d say your home, but maybe you’re from out-of-town. Maybe you’re booked at the hotel?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well. Maybe you don’t want me to know your address. I mean we just met, and...that’s a no, too. Got it.”

He answered it himself. She’d shaken her head before he finished anyway. Okay. He didn’t know her name. He was failing on getting a date. He was going to have to figure something else out.

“Well. Maybe I should turn off my engine, and...no to that, too?”

She’d shaken her head again. Sam’s shoulders dropped.

“Look. I’m running out of suggestions here, okay? I thought you might want to get to know me better. I’m all for that idea, trust me. And...oh, heck. Forget it. I don’t even know your name.”

She looked at him for long moments, sending something electric toward him. Or something even more powerful. His hairs lifted. His eyes watered.

“My name is Cherish.”

Elation filled him. Sweetening the world just about everywhere. His voice carried it. “Cherish. Wow. Your parents named you accurately.”

“It wasn’t my parents.”

“Okay. Well. Whoever had the honor of sticking a name on your bassinet – they did a great job. Cherish definitely fits. Does this mean you’re open for a date, too?”

“Which one?”

Sam blinked a few times. It cleared his eyes. Then he smiled. “Any. All. I mean, I’m free this weekend. You want to take in a movie tomorrow night, maybe?”

“A movie?”

“Yeah. There’s a new one showing at the theatre. I could pick you up. Or meet you there. We could maybe munch on some popcorn, sip a soda. Maybe get a late supper afterwards?”

“No.”

Well. Crashing disappointment was a physical force, too. It hit about mid-gut level with sickening effect. He really didn’t know what to do. Sam pulled his gaze from hers and looked down. She was wearing high leather boots with her tight jeans. And damn! But she had a superfine bosom on display right in his line of vision, too.

“Well. I guess that’s that. It’s uh...been nice meeting you, Cherish.”

“It has?”

“Yeah. Excuse me, but I think I should go now.”

“Where?”

“My home.”

“Oh.”

“Look. You’re probably going to have to step a little to the side. Okay?”

“A little?”

“There’s a vehicle behind mine. So, unless you move, we’re pretty much stuck.”

“We are?”

Sam sighed heavily. Audibly. He was really tired of being a loser with women. That sigh reflected it.

“Look. I may be slow, Cherish, but I got the message. You’re sending out all kinds of mixed vibes, but bottom line, you’re not interested. That’s means I should just cut my losses and leave. Got it.”

“You’re...leaving?”

“Unless you have a better idea.”

“Take me with you.”

“
What?
”

“Take me with you,” she repeated.

Sam’s mouth dropped open. He’d been wrong. The earlier feeling hadn’t been elation. Or, if it was, it had been low volume. Her words nearly sent him airborne. Something about his expression must not be reflecting it, however. Her brows lowered. She glanced away for a moment before looking back. There was the slightest gloss atop her eyes, too.

“Is that...wrong?” she asked.

“Oh. Heck no. Just...unexpected. And wow. It’s wow. You want to come with me?”

“Yes.”

“Right now? To my home?

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. Let me just get you seatbelted in, and...”

Sam had toyed with putting an arm about her shoulders, but something stopped him. He raced instead to the passenger door, and found it locked.

Shit.

“Give me a sec. I’ll have this unlocked.”

He raced around the back. His door was still gaping wide open. So much for heating the interior while they’d conversed.
Man.
He was exhibiting even clumsier moves than normal. It couldn’t be helped. He’d found the woman of his dreams. She wanted to be alone with him. At his apartment!
Holy shit again
. This was incredible.

He wasn’t exactly virginal, although he might as well be. There’d been some fumbling hook-ups in his senior year of high school. Prom night. Homecoming. He’d even had a girlfriend in college. They’d been together for a full semester. He’d almost asked her to move in. He’d thought they were in love...until he figured out she was ashamed to be seen with him in public. Hard to get past that in a relationship.

So, he wasn’t that experienced. He didn’t think it mattered. Cherish was a one-woman testosterone feast. He didn’t need experience to sense how different she was. Every cell on his body was informing him.

His mind raced ahead, mentally checking details. He wasn’t a slob, but he hadn’t prepared for company. His living room area was usually clutter-free. It might be dusty, though. He could keep the lights dim. Put on some slow music. Maybe join her in a glass of wine. He had a full wine rack near the sofa. Had he left a sink full of dirty dishes? No. He’d started the dishwasher before leaving. The laundry room? Had he shut the door to the laundry room? He only washed on the weekends. By Friday, the area was pretty much a disaster. He may have shut the door. If not, he could always slip it closed before he escorted her down the hall...

To his bedroom.

Sam gulped again. The bowtie tightened.
Geez.
This was unbelievable.
Details, Sam.
Back to details.

The bedroom. Crap. What about his bed? He hadn’t made it this morning. And he’d dumped a drawer-full of socks out onto it to find a pair that matched this suit. Had he put them back?
Damn!
He couldn’t remember. But wait. He did have brand-new sheets. Satin. In a zebra-striped pattern. They’d looked really sweet against his black wooden bed frame. Hadn’t he put them on...was it yesterday? Yeah. That was right. Just yesterday. They were probably still creased from the packaging. Okay. His bedroom was in a bachelor’s pad. Not pristine, but it would do. Now. For the major question...did he have condoms? He’d made a mental note to stop by a drugstore and actually get some. He hadn’t quite made it that far. Then again, maybe he was over-thinking this. Maybe Miss Cherish supplied her own. This was her idea, after all.

He lurched into the cab for the key-bob and opened all the other doors with a double-click. That done, he returned to the front bumper area. She hadn’t moved. She was still watching him with those fathomless dark eyes.

“Um. You ready to go, then?” he asked.

She nodded.

Sam held out his hand, palm up. She glanced from it back to him. The buzzing in his ears intensified.

“I’ll escort you. To the passenger seat.”

“I don’t think...that’s a good idea.”

“Well, I’m not letting you drive,” he quipped. “Besides, you probably don’t know where I live.”

“I don’t think we...should touch.”

Sam straightened. Dropped his arm. Might as well just figure this out now. Before he was really in over his head. He cleared his throat. That sounded like he was about fourteen years old again. And about as confident. He tried for a deeper tone when he spoke.

“Look. Cherish. If you go with me to my place? Well. We have to get something straight. I can’t abide a ‘no-touching’ rule. Okay? Touching is going to happen. I’m not even going to apologize. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen or imagined. I’m already having troubles. And I still have to drive home. So. Before you commit, I need to know that you’re okay with that. The touching part. And whatever happens in conjunction with it. Uh. You know.
Everything
.”

She dropped her gaze to his chest. The shadow of lashes fluttered atop her cheeks, and then the area darkened with what looked like a blush.

Holy shit.

That blush almost undid him. Sam’s entire body lurched toward her. To do a lot more than just touch. He barely caught the movement before his feet made it a reality. Hard to overstate what was turning into a raging problem. The chilled night didn’t mute things much. The coat was doing its best to hide it. Even so, he thought he’d done a fair job explaining things. Unless she was completely naive, she had to know what he meant. And even then, he thought he’d been clear enough she could figure it out.

And this was her fault, actually. Her words had been the match-light to this inferno of interest. Desire. And lust. The more they stood about debating semantics, the more acute it became, too.

“So. You okay with the touching thing?”

She nodded. His breath eased out. He hadn’t even realized he’d held it.

“Sweet. And that means you’re okay with taking my hand? Yes?”

She hesitated and then put her fingers in his palm. The same instant, an electric bolt hit the parking lot. The light nearest to them exploded. It was followed by the next two, while beyond that, lights were flickering in semi-fizzled mode. Sam watched them do it. And then something completely unbelievable flashed through him. It sparked. Stunned. Enthralled. His fingers tightened on hers. She squeezed back.

Cherish had a stunned look on her face when he looked back down at her. He could tell the color of her eyes, too – golden brown – but only because she had them wide open. And his vehicle was still running.
What the hell?
His headlamps were still doing fine.

“Did you...see that?” he asked. He should have waited. His voice had a grating quality, and the bowtie was choking him.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t...? This is going to sound weird, but, um. You didn’t do that, did you?”