Face the Fire (29 page)

“Don’t go to the bank on it.” But he pulled off the top of the box. And pulled out a wind chime made of foolish brass frogs.

“I found it whimsical, which suits the cottage. And apt, as I had a lovely fantasy going about how I turned you into one of these for a few days.” She tapped a frog, sent it dancing and singing against its brothers. Then picked up her wine.

“It’s very . . . unique. Whenever I see it, I’ll think of you.”

“There’s a hook just outside the kitchen. Why don’t you hang it, see how it looks there?”

Obliging her, he stepped outside, looped it over the empty hook.

“You smell of the sea,” she told him, trailing a fingertip down the center of his bare back.

“I’ve been swimming.”

“Did it help?”

“No.”

“I could.” She leaned against him, nibbled at his shoulder. “Why don’t we help each other?”

“Because then it’s all about sex.”

“What’s wrong with sex?”

She was clouding his senses. Woman’s magic. He turned, gripped her arms. “We used to have more. I want more again.”

“We’re both old enough to know we don’t get everything we want. So we take what there is.” She spread her hands over his chest, felt surprise when he stepped back. “You want me, I want you. Why complicate it?”

“It’s always been complicated, Mia.”

“So we simplify. I need a release from what happened last night. So do you.”

“We need to talk about what happened last night.”

“You’re a real fan of talking lately.” She tossed back her hair. “Nell has this notion that you’re courting me.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek. “That’s not a word I’d use. I’d say ‘dating.’ I’ve been dating you.”

“In that case—” She crossed her arms, slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders. And let it slither to the floor. “We’ve dated long enough.”

H
e’d have sworn the world stopped. For one
rushing moment there was no sound, no movement. There was nothing but Mia, tall and curved and beautiful. All alabaster and fire, she wore only a slim silver chain that nestled a moonstone between her breasts and an anklet made up of tiny Celtic knots above shoes that were no more than a trio of narrow straps and stiletto heels.

His mouth watered.

“You want me.” Her voice was a low feline purr. “Your body aches as mine does. Your blood’s as hot.”

“Wanting you has always been the easy part.”

She stepped to him. “Then this should be a snap.” She ran her hands up his torso, over his chest. “You’re trembling.” Easing closer, she rubbed her lips over his shoulder, over muscles that were tensed rock-hard. “So am I.”

His hands flexed, fisted. “This is your answer?”

“I don’t need an answer when I don’t have a question.” She lifted her head until their eyes met. “I have needs, just as you do. Desires, hot and restless inside me. As you do. We can both take what we need, and harm no one.”

She leaned in, nipped sharply at his bottom lip. “Let’s take a walk in the woods.”

When he jerked her hard against him, her face lit with triumph. A quick, laughing moan escaped when he swung her into his arms. The moment of victory was hot and sweet.

“Here,” he said. “In this house. In my bed.”

Needs bubbling inside her clouded her mind, only for an instant. But an instant was enough to have him striding through the kitchen before she struggled. “No, not here.”

“It can’t be all your way.”

“I won’t be with you here.” The minute she hit the bed, she rolled, but he pinned her.

“Yes, you will.”

She fought him. Pure instinct had her bucking under him, straining against his hold. She could smell the lavender she’d planted outside the window, and the sweetness of it tore at her heart.

She hadn’t come for sweetness, nor for intimacy. She had come for sex.

She gathered herself, reached for composure and derision. “All you’ve proved is that you have superior strength.”

“Yeah. That’s the breaks,” he said. Her voice might have been cold, but the heat was pumping off her skin. “I’m not letting you go this time, Mia. Considering the mood we’re both in, you fighting me is only going to make this better. So, fight me.” He yanked her arms over her head. “I don’t want it easy. And I don’t want it fast.”

He handcuffed her wrists and used his mouth on her.

She continued to struggle, because he was right. She could damn him for it, but he was right. The underlying threat of violence added a slippery thrill that fed the reckless need inside her. She could hate herself for wanting that, for the part of her that reveled in being overpowered, undone, taken. But she couldn’t deny it.

He ravished, his mouth assaulting her body. The little
war had her skin springing with sweat and her senses tangling into one mass of molten pleasure. Her body twisted, arched, but he simply found new spots to torture and entice.

The energy that burned inside her whipped to flash point, ripped a cry from her throat as he drove her to the first brutal climax with his mouth alone.

And that quick and glorious release only fueled a hunger for more.

He felt her body quake, heard her breath catch. Beneath his lips her pulse beat like fury. Her flesh was damp and fragrant, erotically hot and slick. Knowing that she fought them both only added to the vicious passion surging through his blood.

He rode it, recklessly, until they were both quivering.

When his mouth conquered hers, the kiss was a kind of madness. There was no thought, no room for reason. In a war of lips and tongues and teeth, they fed on each other. When he felt her fly a second time, he released her hands to take more.

They branded each other, rolling restlessly over the bed in a search for dominance and more pleasure. The air went thick, and the sun streaming through the windows turned to gilt.

She rose over him. Craving her, he reared up, clamping his mouth over her breast. Drawing her in like breath.

She lost herself in the frenzy of sensation. Gave herself to that feral need to take and be taken. Here there was only desperation, and the one man who could make her feel it. The glory of those animal urges, the mindless wonder of being alive raced inside her.

Time quickened, then sprinted past her, as the storm inside her broke yet again.

Breathless, still spinning, she wrapped herself around
him, holding on as if for her life. Her heart quaked, and threatened to break open.

She heard his harsh murmurs as his body slid over hers, as his lips skittered over her face, her throat. She shook her head, quick denial, as the Gaelic stroked her aching heart.

Light, warm and blue, pulsed from him.

“No. Don’t.”

He couldn’t stop. What they’d brought to each other sapped his control. The need to complete the intimacy was raw and open in him.

“A ghra. A amhain.”
My love. My only. The words tumbled out of him without design. His power shimmered, seeking its mate even as his body craved. But when he brushed his lips over her cheek, tasted tears, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry.” His breath ragged, he buried his face in her hair. “Just a minute. Give me a minute.”

He fought for control, to pull the magic back inside him. Whatever they were or had been to each other, he had no right to force her to share that part of herself.

She felt him quiver as he struggled to pull it in. It would hurt him, she knew. A deep and physical aching that came from denying the blood and starving the soul.

Still, he held her while he locked himself away. Held her while she listened to his breath tear out against the pain of it.

She couldn’t bear it, for either of them.

She lifted his head, looked into his eyes. And gave him her magic. “Share with me,” she said, drawing him down into the kiss. “Share all.”

Her light was gilded red against his deepening blue. The brilliant thrill flooded her, swamped her as their powers entwined and merged. And merged, streamed inside them both. She let herself fly on it, rose to him as he filled her.

There was a rush like the wind, a stream of sound like
a hundred harpstrings plucked at once. The air swelled. All she was, and all he was, laid open.

The air shimmered, light against light building to a radiant glow. Even as he moved in her, long, slow thrusts that savored the gift, he took her hands. Linked fingers curled tight and sparks swirled from them to dance in the air.

As they climbed, the light brightened, building, building toward a flash that burst like lightning. And on that burst, he met her mouth with his, and flew with her.

He nuzzled at the curve of her shoulder, rubbed
his cheek to hers, whispering soft and foolish endearments. His power continued to whisper inside her as well. Her body felt unbearably soft. And though her heart continued to pound, she knew its beat was no longer for her alone.

What had she done?

She’d stripped aside, by her own will, the last of her defenses. She had given him all she was, taken all he was.

She had let herself love him again.

Stupid, she thought. Stupid, careless, and dangerous.

Even knowing it, she could lie here with his weight pressing against her and want to gather him close and cling to the dreamy echoes of what they’d shared.

She had to get away, clear her head of him. And consider what to do next.

She lifted a hand to his shoulder, intending to nudge him away. But her fingers slid into his hair.

“Mia.” His voice was thick and sleepy. “
Allaina
. So soft, so lovely. Stay with me tonight. Wake with me tomorrow.”

Her heart trembled, but when she spoke her voice was brisk and even. “You’re speaking Gaelic.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re speaking in Gaelic.” Now she did give his shoulder a little nudge. “Which means you’re about to fall asleep on top of me.”

“No, I’m not.” He braced himself on his elbows so he could gaze down at her. “You make my head spin.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “I’m glad you dropped by.”

It was hard to resist the easy affection. “So am I. But I have to go now.”

“Uh-uh.” Idly toying with her hair, he studied her face. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that. And if you try, I’m going to have to get rough with you again. You know you liked it.”

“Please.” She pushed at him, tried to slither free.

“You really liked it.” Leaning down, he lightly bit her shoulder.

“Maybe, under this limited set of circumstances, I found it . . . arousing. I needed an outlet for the excess energy that last night’s spell worked up in me.”

“Tell me about it.” He caught her chin in his hand. “I mean that. I want you to tell me about it. But right now, I’m starving. Aren’t you starving? I’ve got leftover Chinese takeout.”

“Yummy. But—”

“Mia, we need to talk.”

“Talk isn’t the usual activity when we’re lying naked in bed and you’re still inside me.”

“There is that.” He slid his hands under her hips, lifted them. Slid deeper into her. “Tell me you’ll stay.”

Her breath caught. “I’m not—”

“I want to watch you climb again.” He kneaded her hips, his thrusts slow and steady. “Just let me watch you.”

He left her no choice. He exploited her weakness, drained her will with a ruthless tenderness.

He watched her surrender, to him, to herself, to the rise
of sensation. And when she crested—one long wave—it rippled through him. And he lifted her, wrapped her close.

“Stay.”

With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I could eat.”

They made quick work of the Chinese, then scavenged for more. By the time they were digging into a box of dry cereal, the edge was off. Sam took a last handful of puffed rice.

“Strong magic and good sex. Nothing like it to sharpen the appetite.”

“I had two muffins, a sandwich, cake, and a bowl of rotini. And that was before the sex. Give me that.” She took the box from him and dug in.

“It was a potent spell.”

“Now that we’ve very efficiently cleaned out my kitchen of all edible products, let’s take that walk in the woods.”

“It’s getting late, Sam.”

“Yeah, it is.” He took her hand. “And we both know it.” He glanced down at her bare feet. “Since I don’t see how you can walk anywhere in those shoes you had on, maybe we should head to the beach instead of the woods. Easier on your feet.”

“I’m used to walking barefoot in the woods.” It was best, she thought, to deal with it. As long as they were talking, or eating, or seducing each other, she wouldn’t have to think about loving him. Or what she would do about it.

“You want me to explain the spell, and I’m not sure I can.”

“I don’t want the nuts and bolts.” He drew her across the lawn toward the shadows and the path. “But I’d like to know, first, how long you’ve known you had that kind of power.”

“I’m not sure I did—not exactly. Felt,” she continued. “As if there was a switch inside waiting for me to flip it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“No, it’s not.” She could smell the trees and the sea. And on such a night, she thought, you could smell the stars. A cool brush along the senses. “I’ve worked on it, studied, practiced. I’ve gathered myself. You understand that.”

“I also understand that to pull that out the way you did the other night, without any real preparation, is beyond anything I’ve experienced.”

“I’ve been preparing all my life.” And in the last decade, she thought, it’s been my one and only love. “Still I couldn’t finish it. It wasn’t quite enough.” Determination toughened her voice. “But I will finish it.”

“That’s where you and I have a problem. What you did was dangerous, for you. It didn’t have to be.”

“The risk was minimal.”

“If you’d told me what you could do, what you’d obviously planned to do, given the opportunity, I could have been prepared. I could have helped. But you don’t want my help.”

She said nothing as they passed the little stream where foxglove nodded on the banks. “It’s been a long time since I considered having your help.”

“I’ve been back for over two months, Mia.”

“And were gone over ten years. I learned to do a great deal without you in that length of time. Without anyone,” she added, “as Ripley cut herself off from me and what we shared during the same period. I’ve taken what I was given and honed it, built it.”

“That’s right, you have. I wonder if you would have if I’d stayed.”

She rounded on him, her temper quicker than it might
have been, as the same thought had come to her. “Is that a new rationalization? A new reason for what you did?”

“No.” He met her fury with utter calm. “My reasons for leaving were completely selfish. It doesn’t seem to change the results. You’re stronger than you would have been.”

“Should I thank you for it?” She angled her head. “Maybe I should. Maybe it’s time for me to acknowledge that your leaving was the best thing for both of us. I saw you as the beginning and end of my life, and everything in between. But you weren’t. I lived without you. And whether you stay or go, I’ll continue to live, to work. To be. I can enjoy you now without illusions. It’s a nice bonus to share myself with someone who understands power and who expects nothing in return but pleasure for pleasure.”