Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel (31 page)

BOOK: Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel
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“You must have just gotten back,” she said.

He feigned surprise. “And you haven’t even dealt the cards yet. Wow.”

Sam laughed and plucked the shuffled deck from his hand. “I noticed that your truck wasn’t back this morning and you know it.”

His eyes twinkled in a way that made her feel feminine and desirable. “I’m glad you noticed.” His gaze locked with hers and Sam felt the awareness rise between them.

She said the first thing that came to her lips. “You didn’t mention why you had to go to Chicago and then New York.”

“No, I didn’t.” Sloane leaned over the table and changed the subject before she could blink. “I’m guessing that asking why you hate dragons so much would be a violation of the rules?”

“It seems like we’re renegotiating the rules.”

His smile turned wicked. “Now, that’s intriguing. So, you’ll explain about dragons if I tell you why I had to go?”

Sam’s heart was racing. “Maybe we should go back to the rules, after all.”

“Chicken.” Sloane’s gaze warmed as he surveyed her. “What makes you think you’re the only one who likes to unveil secrets?”

“I’m guessing I’m not.”

Sloane shook his head. “Maybe it’s something we have in common.”

“Maybe,” Sam acknowledged, liking that idea a lot more than the possibility of him figuring out her secrets. “Maybe it’s healthier to let some secrets stay buried.”

He eyed her for a long moment, and Sam couldn’t guess his thoughts.

Once it wouldn’t have bothered her, but with this man, in this moment, she really wanted to know what was in his mind.

It might even be worth sharing one or two of her own secrets.

“Maybe we should start again.” Sloane offered his hand, which looked just as strong, warm and welcoming as it had that first day. Sam was relieved by the gesture, and even more by his words. “I’m Sloane. Would you like to have frequent and enthusiastic sex, with no commitment, and just the occasional question?”

Sam found herself laughing. “I would,” she said and put her hand in his. Sloane closed his fingers over her hand, the possessive gesture making her heart pound, then pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Deal,” he murmured, the low sound of his voice making everything inside her flutter. She wanted to ask what he’d done, when he’d leave again, everything about him—but that was more like an interrogation than an occasional question. She pulled her hand from his and shuffled the cards.

“We should ask the cards about those secrets,” she said and Sloane grinned.

“My thoughts exactly. Do what you do, neighbor of mine.”

Sam sat straighter in her chair, feeling that it was portentous that Sloane would be her first reading, and turned over the top card.

* * *

 
“Just a three card layout for that discounted price,” Sam said, as if she did this all the time. It was her first official reading and she was well aware of how closely Sloane was watching her. “Past, present and future.” She set the first card down. “This is about your past.” It was The Hermit. “Um, this is a card about learning…”

“Is it?” Sloane drawled, and Sam realized she must have it wrong.

He watched her, inscrutable, and didn’t offer a single clue.

Except for her conviction that he was enjoying himself. His eyes weren’t just twinkling. They were dancing.

“Yes,” she insisted, trying to brazen her way through it. “It means that you’ll live to a very ripe old age and become very wise.”

“But I thought it was the card for my past.”

“Then you come from a family with a lot of longevity. You’ll live long because it’s in your genes.” She nodded as if certain of that, although she had a feeling she’d mixed it up with another card. Sloane seemed to be biting back a smile. “And your present,” she said, turning over the next card quickly.

Sloane couldn’t fully hide his surprise. “The Nine of Wands,” he said.

It was hard to remember the meanings of seventy-eight cards anyway, and tougher still with Sloane watching her so intently. “A blond messenger has sent you an announcement,” she decided.

Sloane leaned an elbow on the table, bringing his steady gaze even closer. “I thought the cards that had pages or squires were male messengers.”

Sam became flustered, because it seemed that he knew more about doing a reading than she did. He certainly wasn’t pleased with this card. “Give me a second,” she said tightly and dug her reference book out from beneath the table. She looked up the card, then smiled at Sloane. “You’re being tested in your job.”

He leaned back. “By a blond messenger?”

Sam resisted the urge to consult the book again and decided to go for it. “Maybe. Yes! The third card will reveal the result.” She turned it over quickly, then couldn’t utter a sound.

It was The Lovers.

Sam supposed it was a statistical probability that sooner or later, a card would be right.

“Me and the male messenger.” Sloane winced. “I’m thinking that’s a long shot.” He bent closer, his eyes gleaming. “I’m definitely heterosexual.”

Sam felt like her body was on fire. She knew his orientation, without a doubt. “Well, it could be someone else who is blond,” she said quickly. “It definitely is a card about physical union.”

“I don’t work in that kind of a place, though,” he said, his tone teasing again. “I mean, I’d frown on that kind of intimacy at the shop, even if I wasn’t the only one working there.”

“It could be a close associate,” Sam said, knowing she sounded desperate. She realized that Sloane was looking at her hair, which was indeed blond, and felt her cheeks heat.

Sloane chuckled. “You really do stink at this, don’t you?” he said, his tone so affectionate that she couldn’t take offense. “What made you think you could pretend to be a tarot card reader?” He shook his head, not seeming to expect an answer.

Sam impulsively chose to give him one.

Even though it was only part of the truth.

“I’m not pretending.”

“At the very least, you’re learning.”

Sam blushed. “I needed something to do, something that was new and different. A fresh start.” She paused. “And I thought it would be easy.” She winced at the admission but Sloane smiled. He was clearly pleased that she was confiding in him, so Sam told him a bit more. “How hard could it be to memorize seventy-eight picture cards? I’ve done more than that, a lot of times.”

The periodic table, for example.

“There are lots of other things you could have done.”

But nothing so opposite to everything she’d done with her life to date. Sam didn’t want to admit that. Yet. “You need credentials to be an architect or a chef or a lawyer.”

“But not a dog walker.”

“I don’t do well with small creatures.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re playing to your strengths with tarot cards.”

“But I’ve always wanted to be able to do this. Call it a dream. My sister reads tarot cards, and she makes it look simple.”

“Aha!” Sloane smiled. “Sibling rivalry. You thought you could easily do something she does easily.”

“Pretty much.” Sam grimaced at the truth in that. “But it isn’t working.”

“Are you that similar?”

She laughed despite herself. “No.”

“Maybe she listens to her intuition more than you do.”

“She’s a lot more impulsive than I am.”

Sloane gave her a look. “Is your sister lucky in love?”

“No.” Sam shook her head at the very notion. “She has the very worst luck with men. It’s so sad.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s always wanted to have kids, a husband, a home, all the traditional bells and whistles, but no luck.” Just saying that aloud was depressing. Sam feared that this retreat Jac was on somehow involved another loser of a man who would leave her broken-hearted, far from home and out of cash. Had Nathaniel’s death left Jac afraid to reach for her own dreams, lest they be torn away? Sam sighed, only realizing after she did that Sloane hadn’t missed a bit of her reaction.

“So far,” he said. “She can’t be that old.”

“Tick tock,” Sam said. “Women can’t have kids forever.”

He frowned at the cards, and she realized that she might have inadvertently revealed that she’d had all those things—if only for a while. “Is that what’s making you think we can only have sex? You were being impulsive like your sister, but she’s unlucky in love?”

Sam regarded him with disapproval, trying to look more annoyed than she was. It was far too easy to confide in Sloane, that was for sure. If she didn’t watch out, he’d know everything about her—and still be a mystery to her. “What happened to the
occasional
question?”

Sloane was unapologetic. “You’re right.” He snapped his fingers. “I forgot.” His mischievous smile, though, proved that he hadn’t.

“I need to figure out how to get you to answer my questions so readily,” she said under her breath and his grin was bright enough to steal her breath away.

“Let’s try this the other way around, then.” Sloane scooped up the three cards and handed them back to her. “Go ahead. Shuffle.”

“What?
I’m
doing the readings.” Sam felt agitated, not just because she’d been outed, but because he seemed to find it endearing that she couldn’t give him a reading.

She wasn’t
cute
.

“Not this time. Let me do yours.”

“Well, I doubt you’ll be any better at this than me…”

He interrupted her smoothly. “So, what’s the harm?” He widened his eyes slightly. “Afraid the cards will reveal the real truth of who you are?” He held up the cards. “Go on, take a chance.” Again, his manner was teasing, but Sam caught the challenge in his tone.

She picked up the cards and shuffled vigorously, wanting to get this over with. It was irrational to suggest that pieces of cardboard could give away any of her secrets.

Much less to be worried about it.

“No, no, no,” Sloane said, his voice low and melodic. “You have to get into the spirit of it. This isn’t a mission to be completed, or something to strike off your job list. It’s an exercise in opening your mind to possibilities.”

“Is it?”

“Sure. Think about your situation and your question. Close your eyes and pour your energy into the cards.”

“You
have
done this before,” Sam accused, but he gave her an intent look. Pour her energy into the cards. That was just the kind of flakey thing she’d expect Jac to say. Well, they were in California and Sloane had lived here for a while. And really, she should learn how to say those sorts of things. If nothing else, she could take some performance tips from Sloane.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, shuffling more slowly. She tried to believe. She tried—incredibly—to channel some of Jac’s ease with matters illogical and intuitive and had a strange feeling that she was making a bit of progress.

“Give them to me when you feel that they are ready,” Sloane advised, his voice spellbinding.

Sam had to remember to speak just the way he did for her clients.

Then her eyes flew open as she realized what he’d said.

“When they’re ready?” she echoed, unable to keep the skepticism from her voice. “Like eggs in the frying pan?”

Sloane’s quick smile made her heart skip a beat. “You’re supposed to believe in this,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling. “Close your eyes and shuffle. Stop when your intuition tells you the cards are in the right order, when they’re ready.”

“There should be an indicator light.”

“There is. It’s in your mind.”

Sam decided to believe. She breathed slowly, thought about pouring her energy into the cards and tried to focus on them to the exclusion of everything else. That was a challenge with Sloane’s knee pressing against hers, but she gave it her best shot.

If only to win his approval.

Sam shuffled slowly, feeling the weight of the cards in her hand, hearing the way they brushed against each other. She felt the wind and smelled Sloane’s skin, and shuffled. Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling that she should stop shuffling. It was a lot like the impulse that had sent her to his pool originally and she chose to trust it.

“There.” She handed the cards to him, again feeling the warmth of his skin brush against her own.

“Good job.” Sloane smiled at her, as if she’d climbed Mount Everest, and she couldn’t take a breath.

“How do you know?”

“I can feel your energy in the cards,” he murmured, and Sam didn’t know what to say to that. Could he?

“Past,” Sloane said softly, and she leaned forward as he turned over a card. “The Magician.” He nodded approval. “A card governing those who create, who investigate, who are energetic, devoted to their lifework and effective. These are people with demanding careers who solve issues of import to more than themselves. This is what you left behind when you came to your current situation.”

Sam blinked. He really did know this stuff. She was sure that must be exactly what the book said.

But wait. The Magician was about
her
past.

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