Spirit of Seduction (5 page)

“What is it, Ryan?”

“I just thought of something.” He wouldn’t
meet her stare. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have let my feelings get the
best of me. Now you could be in even more danger.”

She froze. “W-why?” She picked up on a dark
force that was attempting to push them apart but when she tried to
hone in on its nature, it disappeared.

He dressed in a hurry. “My visions. I didn’t
tell you everything.” The lines around his mouth deepened.

She quickly put her clothes on and tried to
scare up a sense of calm but her heart refused to cooperate.
Something bad was coming, something that would change the tenuous
new threads they’d wrapped around each other. “Tell me.”

He nodded silently then gestured at the café
table for her to sit. Grabbing his beer, he leaned against the
counter and God help her, she wanted him again. But she swallowed
back her desire—for the time being—and concentrated on what he had
to say.

His gaze moved to the broken glass on the
floor from the mirror they’d knocked off the wall. Emily’s face
warmed when she recalled what had caused it to fall.

Ryan opened a small closet and grabbed a
broom and dustpan. Wordlessly, she took held the dustpan as he
swept. Then he relieved her of the dustpan and dumped the contents
in the trash.

He faced her and the anguish in his eyes was
plain. “I didn’t want to mention the rest of my vision earlier, but
now…I pray I didn’t just put your life in more jeopardy. I didn’t
think about the connection or I never would have, Emily, I swear.”
He hit his fist against the wall. “As much as I wanted you—still
want you—I would have refrained. After we just did what we
did…”

She touched his shoulder. “What is it?”

Tiny muscles around his jaw ticked. “We were
making love in the vision, right before…”

“Before I was killed.” Alarm bucked through
her. She crumpled into a chair.

Had she just sealed her own fate?

The change in Emily was palpable. She hadn’t
eaten a bite of the sandwiches he’d fixed for dinner. Sensing her
discomfort, he reiterated his offer to spend the night on the
couch, but she insisted she was okay with them sharing his bed.

Now, as he held her against him, he could
feel the stiffness of her muscles and hear the hitch of her breath
every time he shifted in the bed. He couldn’t blame her for
regretting making love with him. He wished to God he’d have
realized the significance of the act, the perilous position in
which it had put her.

Yet even knowing the consequences, he
couldn’t hide his body’s reaction to having the smooth curve of her
backside pressed to his groin. Her hair was still damp from her
shower and she smelled like his shampoo. For some reason, the
notion ratcheted his desire even higher. He forced himself to move
to the edge of the bed where he couldn’t reach her.

She rolled over to face him, her pretty eyes
glowing in the moonlight streaming in from the window. Even in one
of his t-shirts, several sized too large for her, she was the
sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “I want you, too, Ryan.”

He clenched his jaw against a rush of
emotion. “I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I already
have.”

She shook her head.
“You
didn’t put me there,
fate did. Making love again wouldn’t change anything.” She reached
out for him and he gladly pulled her into his arms.

She gave him a leisurely, tasting kiss then
straddled his hips and rocked against his arousal. This time he
wanted to go slow, touch her everywhere, turn her on, over and
over. She took off the t-shirt and all he could do for several
seconds was stare at her loveliness.

Then he rolled her over so she was under him
and he began exploring every delicious inch of her, licking,
kissing, sucking until she detonated in satisfaction that convulsed
her body. But he continued his campaign with his lips, his tongue
and his hands.

He wanted nothing more than to bury himself
in her heat but he hung onto his control with every ounce of
restraint he could muster. After he’d brought her to climax again,
he finally allowed himself his own gratification.

He pushed her thighs apart then slid inside
her sheath. Staring into her eyes he could see the haze of her
satisfaction, but there was more. There was fear. She turned her
head to the side and a tear spilled onto the pillow.

He stopped moving and gently kissed her
eyelids. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

She gave him a half smile that melted
something inside him. He started stroking again, willing her to
believe him, trying to convince himself at the same time.

She moaned and rocked in tandem with him as
if they’d been lovers all their lives. “Yes, oh, God, yes.”

Finally, he let go of his control and
exploded in deep spasms of ecstasy. His blood roared as he sucked
in gasping breaths. Nothing had ever felt so right, so complete. He
collapsed on top of her and kissed her dreamy smile.

He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He
couldn’t lose her.

Emily shifted her backside so she was in
just the right spot—tucked against Ryan’s body. She’d never
expected this, had never dreamed that Ryan wanted her as much as
she did him. Everything felt perfect now but what would happen if
they learned the identity of Becky’s killer? Would the murderer
come after her?

Even if Ryan could protect her from the fate
his vision had predicted, was it wise for her to be with him?

She liked Raleigh and it was just beginning
to feel like home. She was making friends with people who had no
psychic abilities and had no idea that she did. She wasn’t sure she
was ready to open that door to the occult and put herself in
jeopardy at every turn, even for Ryan. She wished she knew what he
was thinking but his emotions were closed off to her supernatural
senses, something she’d rarely encountered.

Her mother had usually been able to block
Emily from reading her mind. But her mother’s boyfriend’s thoughts
were apparent to her, which was why she’d run away from New
Orleans. Someday she’d mend her relationship with her mother, tell
her the truth of why she’d left, but things were always more
complicated—and dangerous—when you were privy to people’s
emotions.

She tried again to get a reading on Ryan’s
feelings but nothing came to her. “Ryan?”

“Huh?” he said with a yawn.

“I wonder if I’m too close to the situation
to help you find Becky’s killer. If I extricate myself from the
whole thing, maybe…”

He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “I
know you want to do this for Becky, but maybe it’s gotten too
dangerous.” Several emotions played out in his expression. It was
the disappointment that cut through her.

She swallowed hard. “She knew we’d be
walking into trouble and she wanted us to be careful. Maybe if we
go about our business, pretend to drop it, the killer will leave us
alone. I go to work at the salon like nothing’s changed and
you—”

“How the hell am I supposed
to protect you if I’m not with you? I’ve already lost Becky. I
don’t want to take any chances with you. I have to try to find out
who killed my sister.
I have to.
But I can do it without you. I can find another
psychic, as long as I know you’re safe and with me.” He sighed with
such sadness that her heart squeezed. “The cops here are pretty
much useless. They said they investigated Tommy, her boyfriend, but
when he gave them some flimsy alibi about being home by himself
that night, they dropped it. Course, it probably helped that he’s
related to one of their officers.”

He scrubbed a hand over his
face. “Hell, they investigated
me
more thoroughly than they did him.”

Her pulse pounded. She wasn’t aware that
Ryan had been a suspect. She recalled Becky’s words.

Go carefully or else say your farewells.

“Why did they investigate you?” She hoped he
hadn’t noticed the tremble in her voice.

He looked away. “The last time I saw her, we
argued. I could swear she picked a fight with me. She seemed on
edge. If I said something was black, she said it was hot pink.”

Her mouth grew dry. “What was the fight
about?”

He shrugged. “Stupid stuff, nothing
important. To tell you the truth, I don’t even remember. It was
unlike her. You knew her, she was always in a good mood. Until a
few months ago. Something changed but she didn’t tell me what that
was.”

Ryan couldn’t have killed Becky. He loved
her too much. But still, the notion sent a chill up her spine. She
slid a few inches away, suddenly aware of the vulnerable position
she was in—if Ryan were a killer.

No, she’d have sensed such evil. But she was
sure than before that she was closer to the case than she ought to
be. Her own emotions might get in the way. “I know someone who
might be willing to help, and I think he knew Becky, although they
were only acquaintances.”

She didn’t need to call upon her
supernatural powers to pick up on his skepticism.

He threw back the sheets, bolted out of bed
and started pacing. “I don’t know if I trust anyone else,
especially if you don’t know the person well.”

She persisted. “You said it yourself. I’m
risking everything including my life if I get too involved with
this. Arnie is a gifted psychic. Mainly he hears voices. It’s
called clairaudience.”

He shook his head. “That could be said about
people with serious mental conditions.”

She slipped out of bed and went to him.
“Ryan, I know a lot more about this stuff than you. Would you at
least agree to talk to Arnie with me?”

He gave her a forced smile. “If there’s the
slightest possibility of making you safer, I’m willing to do
whatever it takes. Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

She hugged her arms around him and allowed
herself a sliver of hope. Maybe Arnie could help find Becky’s
killer without putting Emily’s life in further jeopardy.

* * * * *

Ryan had never been to a bookstore dedicated
to the occult before, but then he’d never believed in ghosts before
either. The scent of exotic spices and musty books tickled his
nose. A few of the dream catchers like Becky used to make hung from
the ceiling near the windows. Aside from the rows of books, the
place had a display of incense and another of assorted hand-labeled
bottles of oil. Several racks of silver jewelry and cases filled
with crystals of every shape and color lined the long wooden
counter, but there didn’t appear to be anyone minding the
store.

Emily leaned over the counter and glanced
toward a closed door in the back with a Private sign on it. “Hello?
Arnie?” She faced Ryan wearing an apologetic smile. “I’m sure he’ll
be out in a minute. This is a one-man show. Kind of reminds me of
my mother’s place in NOLA.”

He’d never heard her mention her mother.
“She has a bookstore?”

She furrowed her brow as she absently sorted
through a tray of polished stones but she said nothing. Suddenly
the door in the back creaked open. A lanky man with white-blond
hair and fair skin crossed the threshold.

Emily cleared her throat. “Hey, Arnie.”

The man smiled wide when he caught sight of
her and a surprising pang of jealousy poked at Ryan’s gut. “Emily!”
Arnie sliced a glance at Ryan then shifted his mossy eyes back to
the only lady in the room. “It’s been a long time. What brings you
in?”

“This is Ryan Barnes, Becky’s brother.” She
touched his arm and the contact stirred up erotic memories from the
night before.

Arnie’s smile slipped a little. “Of course,
I should have known. There’s a strong resemblance. I’m so sorry
about her…” He hung his head.

“Thank you.” Ryan shook hands with him.

“We need your help,” Emily said. “Becky’s
spirit appeared to Ryan, and to me. I was hoping you could try to
contact her.”

Arnie narrowed his eyes. “Really? Well, I
did offer my help to the Kenton Police on the case, but they turned
me down flat. Said they didn’t need assistance from a quack. They
still don’t have any suspects, huh?” He folded his arms over his
chest.

“Her boyfriend was their top suspect,” Emily
told him.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Frankly, I
thought he was an ass.”

Ryan’s chest tightened. He’d suspected Tommy
as well since Becky always seemed to be arguing with him over one
thing or another. It made him furious that Becky had died a
horrible death and Tommy—or whoever had killed her—walked free.
“How do you know him?”

“He used to come with Becky sometimes when
she brought me new dream catchers.” He pointed to the brightly
colored ones hanging closest to the cash register. “They’re big
sellers. Hers are more unusual than most I’ve seen, like works of
art.” He drew a sigh. “She’ll be missed.”

“She is,” Emily said.

“Why aren’t
you
helping with the
case?” Arnie asked her.

“Well…” She turned to Ryan for a moment and
he noticed she was blushing.

“She and Becky were too close.” Ryan took
her hand. “And so are she and I. Becky warned Emily that she could
be in danger.”

“Would you try?” Emily asked Arnie. “Maybe
she’ll reveal something she wouldn’t to me. She won’t find peace
until her killer’s caught.”

Arnie’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t know her
well, but she seemed like a sweet lady. I’ll do whatever I can to
help. Let’s take this into my office.” He lifted a section of the
countertop and headed across the store to lock the front door. Then
he ushered them into a small office in the back.

The room was windowless and unlike the
laid-back, new age atmosphere out front, the office was filled with
high tech gadgetry. A state-of-the-art laptop was open on the desk,
hooked up to a printer/scanner that looked to be capable of beaming
Arnie up to the Starship Enterprise. An open door led to a stairway
going down to what must have been a basement since they were
currently at street level.