Inked Magic (30 page)

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Authors: Jory Strong

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Inked Magic
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He stepped forward, swamping her with heat and scent, sea blue eyes turbulent with lust. “Until after dinner at least, then we’ll see just how persuasive you can be.”

A brush of his mouth to hers, a hint of tongue quickly denied. “Now for the demonstration I promised.”

With hands on her hips he turned her toward the mirrored wall. But instead of seeing reflections, the entire span was taken up by a mural, a swirling mix of color alive with movement.
Water
. Vast and deep. Calm and raging. Captured in a spectrum of blues and greens and even black, the texture smooth and flowing.

She was drawn forward as she had been to the Renoir, mesmerized by the illusion.

Eamon went with her, hands stroking her arms in a slow caress. “What do you see?”

“Water.”

He reached out, touching his fingertips to the wall. “And now?”

Shades of orange and red and yellow, of blue and black. Roaring and flickering, furious and soothing. Warming as well as incinerating, obliterating.

“Fire.”

“Yes. Both are the essence of who I am, the elemental magic I’m most strongly linked to. They’re revealed here because of a spell woven into the mirror and directed by my will.”

She was instantly out of her comfort zone. Yet there was no denying
those first impressions. The scent of fire and water, and the sensation of cold blue flames licking along the vines as she passed through the front door of Aesirs. The sound of surf, vines becoming flooded, rushing streams at stepping into the terraced section. Raging fire and stormy seas, the
like calls to like
of Eamon.

Delaying full acceptance of it, she said, “Or I could see both because you’ve invested in some amazing special effects technology.”

He gently bit her earlobe. “I’ll never lie to you, Etaín.”

His fingertips left the wall, extinguishing the fire and leaving behind a blank canvas and eerie sense of possibility. He captured her hand. “Your turn.”

She resisted instinctively, yielding only when he laughed and said, “Afraid? There’s no reason to be. Not here. Not now.”

The wall felt like a mirror though it came to life with her touch and made her breath catch. Not just fire and water, but earth and air, the sunlight and moonlight she knew in that instant represented the ethereal, spirit.

They were all there, flowing one into the other, coming with sensations so familiar to her that she had to fight not to jerk her hand away. “What do you see?” she asked.

“A dark woods with a fire at its center. Wet sand and rich loam. The day. The night. A wild joy at running through and beneath all of it. Magic’s primordial birthplace, Etaín, at least for those like us.”

His answer made her heart beat erratically and goose bumps rise on her skin though she wasn’t surprised he’d seen the very things she felt whenever she stepped outside after a long period of being indoors.

“Demonstration complete,” she said, unable to suppress a shiver.

The wall became a mirror again as soon as her fingertips left it. Eamon turned her in his arms. “Ignorance is deadly, Etaín. Never believe otherwise.”

A bell tinkled. Relief surged into her when he said, “Our dinner has arrived,” and let the conversation drop as he escorted her to the dining room and seated her next to him.

The food was mouthwatering. Italian served with wine she was fairly certain couldn’t be found in a grocery or liquor store.

She was ravenous. Since the visit with Brianna she’d felt too sick to eat.

When the meal was finished he drew her up from her chair and into his arms. She went willingly, ready to return to their challenge and indulge in a different kind of dessert than the one she’d just eaten.

“Stay the night with me,” he said against her lips. “Here, if you prefer it to over going to the estate.”

She wanted to. She said, “I can’t.”

He gave a soft sigh. “Guessing at some of your activities today isn’t beyond me, Etaín. Tell me, did you visit Brianna Dunne today? Did you touch your palms to her skin? Is that why you seemed ill and weak when you arrived?”

“And if it is?”

“All gifts come at a cost. I told you the truth when I said you wouldn’t be able to continue managing yours as you have in the past. The longer you delay in learning how to control the magic that flows into you, the greater the risk to everyone you touch.”

His arms tightened around her. “And to you, Etaín. Especially to you if you perceive that your gift is changing.”

It was changing. She couldn’t deny it.

He’d provided an excuse to stay and his
knowing
meant there was no reason to deny the comfort she’d need later, after the dreams. But habit died hard.

She tried to muster the resolve to leave by thinking about Derrick and what happened each time he allowed himself to fall in love or believe in permanence. Cathal and Eamon might both want her now, but it wouldn’t last. Or if it did, it would ultimately lead to an ultimatum to conform to a different set of expectations. Both of them moved about freely in the same elegant world the captain and his wife did.

She tried to pull away but Eamon captured her mouth with his, coaxing desire back into existence with the rub of his tongue against
hers, with the slide of his hands up her sides to her breasts. Resistance fled with his touch, with heated need and an emptiness that would only end with the press of skin to skin and the joining of bodies.

“Say you’ll stay the night,” he whispered, his thumbs grazing over her nipples. “I think it’s likely you’ll succeed in seducing me.”

“I’ll stay,” she said, allowing him to lead her through the arched doorway and into the bedroom.

The dress fell away easily, becoming a silky pool of dark blue at her feet and leaving her in heels alone. “Dinner was a torment for me,” he murmured against her lips. “Sitting, making casual conversation, eating, all the while knowing you wore nothing beneath the dress I’d given you.”

“Most would say you brought it on yourself.”

Her hands went to the front of his shirt, fingers taking their time over each button as the fabric slowly parted to reveal smooth flesh and small, hardened nipples. She brushed her thumbs over them and was rewarded by the catch of his breath and a flush of need across his cheeks.

“Is this my punishment then?” he asked.

She kissed downward, tongue replacing the pad of her thumb, hands free to undo his belt and pants. “You tell me.”

Fire raced through him at the feel of her teeth grasping his nipple, her tongue a lash that whipped through his belly and encircled his cock. His hands met hers at the front of his trousers, anxious to have nothing separate them, to be inside her, bodies joined as intimately as their magic would ultimately be.

A shudder of ecstasy seized him as her hand grasped his cock and her mouth left his nipple, pressing kisses lower and lower as she sank gracefully to her knees, the naked curve of her buttocks not hiding the high-heeled shoes that were the only thing she still wore.

His hands tangled in the golden silk of her hair. He desired her as he would never want another woman. “It’s punishment and pleasure alike, Etaín. You’ll know the same by morning.”

*     *     *

C
athal made the short leap from pier to boat then followed Sean into a comfortable stateroom. The Giants were playing on a big-screen TV, the sound turned down.

“Want one?” Sean asked, holding up the bottle in his hand.

“Sure.”

Cathal claimed a chair and accepted a beer. Sean took the seat next to him, a table between them.

“She’s at Aesirs,” Sean said. “Might as well get that out of the way first in case it impacts what you want to talk about.”

A kick to the stomach would have been easier to take. “How long?”

“Long enough.”

“To do what?” Cathal asked, not positive which one of them was fishing for information.

Sean cut him a look. “Fucking the blond whose estate is in Pacific Heights for one. Drawing pictures of the guys you say drugged and raped your cousin and her friend for another. You tell me why she’s there. The tracker on her bike had her at your uncle’s place earlier today. And now you’re here.”

Cathal’s guts knotted, twisting more with fear for Etaín than with jealousy, though the prospect of his father or uncle ordering a hit on Eamon was darkly tempting.

“Maybe she’s doing both,” he admitted.

“Nothing you can do about either.” Sean picked up the remote control. “Meeting over?”

“No.” He didn’t have to think about it.

“What’s on your mind then?”

“Finding a way to circumvent my father and uncle without sacrificing them to the authorities, or ending up buried in an unmarked grave with Etaín next to me.”

Sean laughed and took a swallow of beer. “Something easy. Good.”

“I had a rough idea, of sending you to arrange for her brother to
swing by her place and see the drawings in a way where there’d be no fault attached to anyone.”

“Possibly workable, except her being with the blond has screwed up your chance to be the unsung hero in this story.”

“Eamon,” Cathal said, washing the name down with some beer. “He owns Aesirs.”

Sean whistled. “Smart lady. Since you’re paying for my observations and opinions, you’re going to get both. Obviously you care about her or you wouldn’t put yourself at risk this way, but you need to think outside the box when it comes to this situation.”

“As in?”

“She’s got something your father and uncle want and, unfortunately for her, they have a long reach and a lot of motivation. Meaning there are definite advantages to sharing her with Eamon. Between the two of you, you might just be able to keep her alive. The real question to look at here is whether you want her badly enough to overcome your social conditioning.”

Cathal didn’t know whether to laugh or get pissed. “Overcome my social conditioning?”

“Yeah. It’s what I would do if I were you. Especially if that’s the way she wants it. There are ways to make it work, if the parties involved are committed to it.”

“Did I get on the wrong boat? Is this Dr. Phil or McAlister Investigations?”

“Just trying to help you out. You afraid this guy is better than you are?”

“Not even close.” Memories of what it had been like with Etaín made it impossible to label himself second in her life. “I just want exclusive.”

“More like, if you’re in bed alone, you want her to be, too. Misery loves company and all that.”

Cathal couldn’t argue Sean’s assessment so he didn’t.

“Eamon know about you?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

Cathal remembered Etaín’s Mona Lisa smile after he’d set up breakfast at Aesirs and his dick got harder despite the fact that they were talking about Eamon. “He’s into the kink. He’s willing to share her.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Surprise ripped through him. “You have?”

“Yeah. I have. Not just shared as in
his place
,
my place
, but the three of us living together in
our place
.”

Sean lifted his bottle in a silent tribute. “The psychologists have it right. The male of our species is turned on visually and competitive as hell at his core. Thank god. The sex was incredible.”

“It didn’t last,” Cathal said, harsh words mirroring just how ruthlessly he had to suppress the domination fantasies that accompanied images of walking in and catching Etaín naked with Eamon.

“True, it didn’t last, but for reasons that would be TMI, way, way too much information for you to handle given your current puritanical frame of mind. Something I find amusing considering how your father and uncle earn their money, and your owning a club where the rich and moral-less come to play.”

Sean pushed off his chair and padded over to a small refrigerator, getting himself another beer. “Besides the sex, you want to know what I loved best about sharing a woman with another man?”

Almost unwilling, Cathal found himself asking, “What?”

“When the job consumed me, there was someone there for her. And when I fucked things up with her, she had someone to turn to until I could get my shit together and clean up the mess I’d made out of things.”

Sean returned to his chair, plopping down in it with a sigh. “Before we leave the topic, I’ll go on record as saying that given the right chemistry all around, I’d rather be part of a threesome instead of a twosome.”

His attention diverted to the Giants with three men on base and
only one out. Cathal let himself be distracted, too, imagining taking Etaín to PacBell Park and watching from the luxury suite he often used.

Two runs and two outs later, Sean said, “Now back to your problem, which is compounded by not knowing if Eamon is aware of the visit to your uncle’s place and the purpose behind it. Any idea whether or not she’d share it with him?”

Something inside Cathal relaxed. Etaín didn’t readily share information about herself. She’d only admitted to using her talents to help the police after hearing about Brianna’s suicide attempt. Even then, she’d left out that the victim Parker asked her to visit was the Harlequin Rapist’s.

He refused to believe Eamon knew her any better than he did. “No. I don’t think she’ll share the drawings with him. Or tell him she intends to do them.”

He thought about her throwing up after visiting Brianna. How ill she’d looked when she emerged from the bathroom. A glimmer of understanding came, at why she might have gone to Eamon. To distance herself from knowledge horrible enough to make her sick, and from what she’d endured because of her involvement with him.

“Time and options are limited,” Sean said. “You’ve got to intercept her after she’s finished drawing.”

“She’s promised to call.”

“Good. Your idea about involving her brother is the most expedient. It’s high risk but I’m not coming up with anything else even remotely workable. I’ll put someone on him so he can be approached in person with a message as soon as you connect with Etaín. How are you going to sell this as an unpreventable accident to your father and uncle?”

“A dump of her cell phone records. Assurances I know where she’s been. Her brother showing up and her not knowing anything about the setup. It will play out as believable because of her lack of fear when
I take her with me to see them. They’re trusting me to handle this so they’ll buy I did my best but it went sideways on me.”

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