Haunting Beauty (10 page)

“I came for you,” he muttered, propelled forward by the power of the statement. He backed her to the counter in three quick steps. Surprise widened her eyes while something else—something deep and conceding—darkened them. The moment had been inevitable; he saw it there in her face, and it charged his blood, infusing him with fire.

Slowly, deliberately, he braced his hands on either side of her and lowered his head to hers. A fraction of breath kept them apart, but the intimate rhythm of her racing pulse beating at her throat, of his heart pounding in his chest—it made them one. “I came for you,” he said against her mouth.

And then he kissed her. The feel of her lips, the heat of her breath as it expelled in a rush went through him like an electric charge. He’d dived in, expecting the water to be shallow, the act painful. But if this was pain, he hoped to die of it.

Her hands came up to his chest and he knew she meant to push him away, but that surely would kill him. He did the only thing he could think to stop her. Bringing his fingers to the silken warmth of her face, he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue tease her soft, yielding lips until she opened for him. A shiver went through them both as the cold sweet of her tongue touched the hot need of his. She tasted of mint and warmth and intoxication. He was drunk from the effect. He couldn’t have stopped the groan of relief, of satisfaction, had he tried.

He focused on Danni, wanting her to feel what he felt, needing her to want what he wanted. He leaned his weight against her, pinning her body between his and the cupboards, making her know how much he desired her. The hands on his chest clenched, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as she strained against him—not pushing him away but urging him closer. He felt dizzy with the awareness of her melting softness, the surrender of her body. He slid his hands to her throat and his mouth followed, kissing, tasting, the sweet salt of her skin an aphrodisiac he’d only imagined. Her shoulders were small and fine boned beneath his hands. He felt the press of her breasts against his chest. He wanted more. He wanted contact at every point possible.

He wrapped his arms around her again and lifted, setting her on the counter so he could move between her knees and pull her closer still. The new height put her face level with his own and gave him access to the curve of her neck, the hollow of her throat and the tantalizing swell of her breasts.

She murmured his name in a low, hoarse voice. “This isn’t real,” she breathed.

“The hell it isn’t,” he said, moving back to her mouth to prove to her that it was as real as the blood racing through his veins.

It was like holding a flame, having her in his arms. She burned, she writhed, she singed his nerves and seared his control. He wanted to strip her clothes from her body and take her right there on the kitchen floor, but it seemed every inch of silken skin he touched distracted him from his goal. He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and slid them up, across the heated softness of her flesh to cup her breasts, rub his thumbs across the peaks. A small sound slipped from her lips, making his blood hotter, faster.

But then she stilled. “Sean,” she said. “Stop.”

The mixture of desire, hurt, and confusion in her tone did more than the simple command. It mirrored too closely the complex labyrinth of feelings inside Sean, passions raging wildly from one deceiving passage to another. There was a way to find what he wanted, but it was obscured by his pounding heart and overpowering need.

“I can’t stop,” he said simply, but he forced his body to do what his mind couldn’t and pulled away, slowly. He didn’t understand the turning point that had brought him here, but he knew there was no going back. Somehow she’d become a salvation that he was desperate to reach.

Her steady gaze felt like a spotlight, exposing what was inside him. He moved away, angry with himself. When had he become so pathetic? He’d learned to survive in a world that had turned its back on him when he was fourteen. He wasn’t some vulnerable boy yearning to be loved anymore. He wasn’t weak, like his father. He was a man who made his own way, alone.

He moved to the sliding door where he stared out at her garden and yard. The dog lay on the other side of the glass. She lifted her head and growled at him. He could see Danni superimposed on the surface, pale skin against the T-shirt and slacks that molded every intriguing curve of her body.

“I’d like you to leave now,” she said, her voice toneless, cold when he craved her heat.

In the blurred reflection he saw her confusion and determination, and it only stoked his anger and hurt. But he could do nothing more than what she asked.

Without a word, he left.

Chapter Seven

A
FTER Sean had gone, Danni didn’t know what to do with herself. She had a to-do list a mile long, but the thought of hustling and bustling like her whole world wasn’t shaking made her stomach hurt. Her shower did nothing to dispel the one million questions in her head. Nor did it help to cool her blood or ease her frustration. Reciting the reasons why she shouldn’t be so hot and bothered over Sean Ballagh only made her feel a fool.

Because she was. It was like he’d crawled beneath her skin and was there, even now, brushing those long fingers against the curve of her spine, pressing his lips to the sensitive place behind her ear, teasing her with the hot flick of his tongue. She gave a heartfelt mental groan. How could he do all that if he was dead?

The last question stopped her as she got in her car, list in hand. Maybe she’d been wrong about that. Maybe the newspaper article was mistaken. Didn’t that make more sense than the other alternative? She didn’t just see him; she felt him. Could feel him even now. If he was dead, she might be able to see his ghost, but not feel it . . . right?

She bonked her head against the steering wheel three times. She was rationalizing what a ghost could and couldn’t do. If that wasn’t nuts, she didn’t know what was.

But since the air had turned and she’d seen Sean standing in her kitchen, nothing had made sense or seemed in the least bit sane. She desperately needed someone to talk to, but who did she turn to with such a weird, supernatural problem? It wasn’t something you called your best friend about. Not something she could discuss with Yvonne over a cup of coffee.

She decided she’d just pick up the necessities—eggs, milk, coffee. Everything else would have to wait. There was a Safeway in the strip mall on the corner and she pulled in, circling for a while before she found a spot. Mild sunshine streamed from a vivid sky and the warm breeze rustled the palms overhead, calming her jangled nerves. She concentrated on the warmth against her skin as she walked.

She didn’t notice the young woman standing on the sidewalk watching her until she was only a few feet away. She had white blonde hair worn in pigtails and bright blue eyes with long pale lashes. Her toasted brown skin marked her as a sun worshipper. In twenty years she’d probably look like aged leather, but now she looked only young, tan, and healthy. She wore a sleeveless silk top the same color as her eyes and satiny pants with a paisley pattern.

She stared at Danni with pointed attention, making no attempt to appear casual. Danni faltered, thinking of altering her course to the store, but the woman moved quickly forward and smiled at her.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.

Danni looked over her shoulder. “Me?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “You don’t remember?”

“I think you must have me mixed up with someone else,” Danni said. “We’ve never met.”

The young woman shrugged and held her hand in a “come this way” gesture, indicating the entrance to a shop called Pandora’s Box. The double glass doors were painted with a gold tree that sprouted up the center. Leafless branches spiraled across the panes, reminding Danni of the patterns on the sterling comb the white woman had held out.

“I’m headed to the grocery store,” Danni said, with a shake of her head. She pointed at the Safeway farther up the walk. “Sorry.”

“You came to me,” the woman murmured. “You asked me to help you.”

Danni swallowed, but her throat was dry. The way the woman had worded the statement raised a flag of awareness.
You came to me . . .
Wasn’t that exactly how she thought of Sean appearing in her kitchen? He’d come to her. . . .

“Please, let me help.”

Unnerved, but undeniably curious, Danni followed the blonde into the store where the scent of incense hung heavy on the air. Soft nature music played in the background and fluted chimes tinkled from corners and nooks. The store was open and airy, with books on one wall and windows on the others. A comfortable seating area gathered around a towering bookcase and scattered displays of crystals and incense burners; charms and tarot cards stood in between. Five or six tiny black kittens scampered around a woman in a pale purple dress manning the cash register. A sign propped on the counter read “help us find homes for our kittens.” There was more below it describing the dangers black cats faced from cults and other un-savory sects.

Several cocktail-sized tables had been set at intervals, each with two chairs. A thin, well-groomed man in a charcoal sweater and matching slacks sat across from an overweight woman who listened to him with avid interest. At another table, a heavily made-up older woman who looked like she might be auditioning for the role of the Good Witch Glinda sat alone. She stared as Danni followed the blonde to an empty table in the back. A pale blue cloth covered the surface and a tea light in a rose-shaped holder flickered across an array of crystals artistically arranged to one side. A deck of tarot cards lay in an arc across the center.

“Sit down,” the blonde said. “I’m Alice.”

“You’re a fortune-teller?” Danni asked, embarrassed by the judgmental tone that housed the question. She couldn’t help it, though. She looked around her, thinking these people couldn’t be legitimate.

“I’m a guide,” she said. “Did you know there’s a spirit with you?”

Alice looked at a spot to Danni’s right and all the hairs on Danni’s arms stood as she glanced over her shoulder. “You mean right now?”

Alice nodded and her eyes closed for a brief moment. “He’s been looking for you for a very long time.”

Sean.

“He’s only just found you though. Do you know who he is?”

“Yes,” Danni said softly, feeling silly and scared at the same time.

Alice’s eyes opened. “I don’t think you do. It’s not someone you know. Not yet.” She didn’t wait for a response. She picked up the deck of cards and shuffled it before setting it down in front of Danni. “Please cut them,” she said.

Danni did as she was told, still feeling strange about being here at all. Alice gave her a sweet smile.

“Weren’t you hoping for someone to talk to?” she asked.

Danni shrugged, but it was, of course, the truth. Alice began to carefully place the cards, pausing to study each one after she set it down. After a moment, she tapped the one in the center with a blue-polished nail. The card showed a person trudging over a terrain of hills and low wetlands. In the sky the moon eclipsed the sun. Cups lined the bottom of the card.

“You’re at a crossroads,” Alice said. “You don’t see it because you’ve been blind for a long time, bound like a mummy by your inability to recognize what is real. But you must break free and find the deeper purpose. Do you know what I mean?”

Danni shook her head.

“I feel that you’ve . . . shut away some important part of yourself. But it’s something you need, and without it, you’re simply stumbling through your life. You’re blind and you don’t know how to free yourself. Even now, you think you want to stay that way.”

Danni made a small sound of disbelief. “Why would I want to stay blind?”

“Because you may not like what you are forced to see if you choose to open your eyes and be whole again,” Alice said with monotone certainty. Despite Danni’s skepticism, a chill danced over her spine.

Alice flipped another card, this one of a tower. Fire spilled from its small windows and people jumped to escape—or jumped to their deaths, hard to say which, though the plunging fall didn’t look like a good option either way.

Danni blew out an amused breath, but really, what filled her wasn’t humor. “So what is that? The death card?”

Alice cocked her head, considering the question with more solemnity than Danni wanted. “In a way, perhaps. But not necessarily death of the body. Death and rebirth are part of our everyday world. If you don’t embrace it, you are only living on the surface. Maybe the
old
you has to die in order for the
new
you to survive.”

“That’s a little too out-there for me.” But she was thinking of that grave and her body at the bottom.

“If you say so,” Alice answered mildly.

Alice pulled the next card from the deck, and Danni thought this one looked even worse than the last. A tall figure in gray stood with a lone lantern in hand in a dark world. Nervously, she watched Alice’s reaction.

“There is someone you are looking for. This person is important to you,” she said, pausing to chew on her lip. “It’s a man. I think he is the reason you are blind now. You need to know what he is and to do that, you must ask.”

“Ask who?”

Alice shook her head. “I cannot say. But you must seek in order to find, knock if you want to enter. The promise is found in your own heart.”

“Well, that’s as clear as mud.”

“There are dangers in what you seek. On the surface, it appears to be everything you think you want. But there’s untruth about the people you will find. I’m seeing . . .” She closed her eyes. “I’m seeing a mask that hides the true person inside. Does that mean anything to you?”

“I don’t think so.” Danni shifted, not liking the sense of understanding pushing its way up from her subconscious.

“But you are looking for someone?”

Danni wet her lips, unwilling to give any hints, any clues to this strange woman. “Isn’t everybody looking for someone?”

Alice’s smile said she knew what Danni was thinking. She flipped another card—this one of a man hanging upside down on a giant
T
. “I see a break in trust, this time within yourself. You’ve forgotten who you are.” She fanned the deck in her hands and asked Danni to pull one out. Danni felt hollow as she did.