The Phoenix Charm (20 page)

Michael picked up the cat and passed her into Cordelia’s arms. She pressed her face against the creature’s fur. He ignored the ache in his chest, gathered up wet towels, and hung them from the heated rail, pretending not to mind she’d rather hold her cat than him.

She dragged her feet wearily into the bedroom before flopping on the side of the bed. While she consumed the sandwich and coffee he’d ordered up, he fetched her a fluffy white bathrobe from the wardrobe. He stuffed his own sandwich in his mouth, then grabbed a robe for himself, and changed clothes in the bathroom.

A few minutes later when he returned to the room, she was snuggled beneath the covers, Tamsy curled against her body. She opened her eyes sleepily when he went to her side. “Thanks, Michael,” she mumbled. “I can’t talk now. I just…“ Her eyelids fluttered down. “I just…“

Gradually, her breath slowed to the rhythm of sleep. He stroked strands of hair back from her forehead and trailed his fingertip across her pinkened cheeks. Although she was asleep again, she now looked normal and healthy. “I can wait,” he whispered. He gathered her wet underwear from the floor and washed it out in the bathroom, then hung the wrinkled white cotton over the heated rail so she’d have something clean to wear in the morning.

When he returned to the bedroom, Tamsy propped her chin on Cordelia and watched him through slitted eyes. “Hey, moggie, all’s fair in love and war.” He sat on the edge
of the bed and rubbed Tamsy behind the ear. She turned her head into his hand, purring.

Although he should probably sleep on the chair, he was too damn tired to worry about propriety. He slid into the bed beside Cordelia and closed his eyes. As he drifted off, a warm weight settled against his belly. He opened one eye to find Tamsy curled beside him. A strange feline presence brushed his senses. He chuckled, almost certain he was being checked out.

He hoped he earned her cat’s seal of approval, because in the morning he must make Cordelia understand that he needed her. If she didn’t let him make their bond physical, he was going to explode.

Cordelia woke when the early light of dawn filtered into the room. Unfamiliar striped curtains hung at the window. She frowned before memories from the previous evening trickled back. Michael had brought her to a hotel.

“Oh, goodness.” Liquid heat flowed through her at the memory of waking to find herself snuggled against his nearnaked body. She’d had to get away from him fast and ground herself through Tamsy before her allure spun out of control. She must get the wards painted back on her skin immediately.

Still wrapped in the soft robe she’d donned the previous night, she slid out of bed. A shock of surprise raced through her when she looked over her shoulder to see Michael asleep in the bed. Tamsy lay between them with her head on the pillow—their furry chaperone. Cordelia smiled and stroked her cat’s silky belly.

Before she restored the symbols to her skin, she wanted to stand beneath the shower and soak up the vibrancy of the water. Searching for a pen with which to reapply her wards afterward, she checked all the drawers, making her way around the room to Michael’s nightstand.

She glanced at him to check that he was still asleep and found herself drawn closer. Dark waves of hair fell across his forehead, nearly reaching his eyes, where the perfect dark crescents of his long eyelashes lay against his cheeks. He must have shaved while she slept, because his face was nearly smooth. A little quiver ran through her as she bent closer and her gaze fell to his mouth. The corners of his lips tipped up in a smile, even in sleep. She licked her lips before turning away. With him in her bed, she could so easily forget the lessons of her past and do something silly.

She pushed back her hair and looked for a pen on his nightstand. Her mouth dropped open. Next to the Taser lay a Gucci wallet stuffed with notes, and a gold credit card. He’d died, traveled to the Underworld, been resurrected, been banished in-between, and returned to his body, yet he’d managed to hang on to his gold card and a wallet full of cash. Must be the leprechaun in him.

Munching a candy bar from the mini fridge, she found a pen beside a selection of tourist leaflets extolling the virtues of Wales, just a short trip over the River Severn. She snorted. Beautiful as the place was, she wouldn’t be setting foot over the border into Gwyn ap Nudd’s domain again anytime soon.

Tamsy stirred, jumped off the bed, and followed Cordelia into the bathroom. After licking up water lying in the bottom of the shower, she sauntered around the room, sniffing everything.

Michael appeared to be sound asleep and, after what he’d been through in the last few days, unlikely to wake and walk in on her. So she left the bathroom door ajar for Tamsy to get out. After turning on the shower, she let the water run hot while she put the pen on the bathroom counter. Then she hung her bathrobe on the back of the door and stepped beneath the soothing stream.

Eyes closed, she turned her face into the spray. She opened her senses and let the vibrant energy swirl into her
aura. Last evening, when she’d been unconscious, she must have picked up energy from the water passively. This time she consciously gathered the essence of her element, boosting herself until her muscles tingled and the blood raced in her veins.

She stilled at a sound from the bedroom. When silence returned, she shampooed her hair and turned her back to the water, enjoying the tickle of suds streaming down her skin. Clean again-what bliss.

With a blast of cooler air, the door to the bathroom opened. She froze at the sight of a blurred figure through the steamy glass. “You feeling better, sugarplum?”

Her heart thundered so loudly, she could hardly hear her voice when she answered. “I’m fine. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be out. Then you can use the bathroom.” She stared through the glass, mesmerized by the white-robed figure, emotions twisting and tangling inside her. What would she do if he didn’t leave?

His hand appeared around the end of the glass partition, holding a toothbrush and paste. “I got these sent up last night. Thought you might like to use the brush first.”

A stab of guilty pain pierced her.

“I washed out your underwear. Your things were wet already after the shower, so I thought…“ Once she grabbed the toothbrush, Michael turned away and his bleary image went to the heated towel rail. “They’re dry now.”

“Thank you.”

Michael came back toward the shower. The feel of him beat in her chest, strong and dominating. She wanted so badly to touch him, let him touch her as he had in the fantasy he’d spun while they were in-between. But before she let him near her, she must reapply her wards. She knew Michael would never attack her as Dragon had, but her allure would drive them both wild with passion and they’d struggle to recover control.

“Cordelia, sugarplum, can I join you in the shower?”

“No!” Her throat contracted, hardly able to push out the word.

“Don’t say no yet.” His palm pressed against the glass. “Listen to me first.”

She stared at his hand, remembered her silver chain wrapped around his wrist. He’d gone to his death with her Magic Knot ring on his finger.

She pressed her palm over her mouth.

“I know you didn’t want to be bound to me, Cordelia. I’ve respected your wishes and kept out of your head. But we’re joined forever.” He paused, the drum of water beating in her ears. “You’re mine now, love. And I’m yours.”

Her breath rushed in and out, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. He thought she didn’t want him. How could she tell him that the problem was she wanted him too much?

“Can I come in there with you?”

“In the shower?” she squeaked.

“I won’t intrude on your mind, but I want to be with you, to touch you, to feel your hands on me.”

Cordelia closed her eyes as little sparks of sensation rushed over her skin. Behind her eyelids, she imagined him walking toward her, a sinful grin on his face. Her allure expanded, reaching for him against her will. She had wanted him since the first moment she saw him, and he was hers. All she had to do was invite him to join her.

Her belly quivered. She gulped, the hot, wet air clogging her lungs. “I don’t know, Michael. I’m—”

“I know you’ve got bad memories. But I’m
not
Dragon.”

“Oh gods and goddesses, of course I don’t think you’re like him.” She pressed her palm to the glass against his. “I’ve never been without my wards before, Michael. I’m frightened we’ll lose control.”

She screwed her eyes tight, an agony of indecision wrenching and tugging inside her. The slick hard glass beneath her palm softened. She thought she must be imagining
the feel of his hand because she wanted to touch him so much. When his fingers laced through hers, the shock of realization jolted her eyes open.

The glass rippled away from his flesh like water. With a muffled yelp, she yanked her hand back.

“I put my hand through the…shite!” His voice filled the bathroom, gruff with surprise.

The glass looked solid. She couldn’t believe what had happened. “Try again.”

Once more, he flattened his palm against the transparent surface. After a moment, the glass stretched beneath the pressure of his hand like a sheet of plastic wrap.

Strange tingles ran over her skin. With barely a thought for her nakedness, she walked to the opening and gazed at him.”

He stared at her, shock bright in his eyes. “Devin told me I’d discover new powers after my resurrection. This must be what he was talking about.” He turned to the basin and, with a certainty that amazed her, poked a finger into the china as though it were custard. “I’m an earth elemental. As Troy manipulates air, I must be able to manipulate solids.”

Michael withdrew his finger from the china basin, his mind stalling at the reality of his new power.

Standing naked in the center of the room, Cordelia stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. “What…what does it feel like?”

“Surprising. I don’t have to push. My finger slides in easily.”

He tried to focus on her face, but his eyes dropped to her breasts. Her nipples hardened beneath his gaze, peeping between the damp strands of hair trailing down her body. Heat and tension gathered in his lower back and groin. He could think of more interesting places to slide his finger than the basin.

He remembered her all uptight and starchy, wearing her long, high-necked dress. An illicit thrill raced through him to see her unclothed and vulnerable before him. “I imagined you like this, naked with your hair loose,” he whispered.

A pretty pink blossomed in her cheeks.

Women had been nothing more than fun and games to him, but Cordelia had stuck with him when he needed her most, called him back from the Underworld. She’d lived under his nose for two years, but he hadn’t been ready for her until now. He hadn’t under stood what he was missing.

Before he took things further, he needed her to accept his Magic Knot again and let him into her mind. Tension
gripped his muscles as he retrieved the linked stones from his robe pocket. Last night, he’d transferred them onto her silver chain. He held them up, giving her time to back away if she didn’t want them around her neck.

Two tiny creases formed between her brows, her gray eyes dark as storm clouds. Yet she bent her neck so he could place the chain over her head.

When his three stones settled in the damp valley between her breasts, he extended his awareness, gently brushed the edges of her mind. She looked down and gripped his stones in her hand. “I thought you’d taken them back, Michael.”

“Only while you were weak, love. I’ll be careful not to swamp you with me power.”

She raised her eyes and nodded. His breath flowed out with almost painful relief, followed by a hot burst of excitement.

She was his.

“We need to dry you.” After snagging a towel from the dwindling pile, he moved behind her, his gaze dropping to her bottom.
Sweet Anu.
He stifled a grunt of appreciation. Clenching his jaw, he flexed his fingers, imagining his palms stroking her firm, smooth arse.

While he toweled her hair, he watched her in the mirror over the basin, sensing little flutters of her emotions: curiosity, nervousness, arousal. She blinked slowly as though her eyelids were heavy, then spoke, her husky tone a caress. “I imagined you naked as well.”

His hands stilled. All the blood rushed out of his brain, heading south, leaving his groin hot and heavy. “I need you, Cordelia. After the last few days, I really, really need you.”

“I can’t. I must reapply my wards,” she said, with her palms pressed to her solar plexus.

“After ward.”

She breathed in and out five times, her breasts rising and falling in an enticing rhythm, her nipples playing peekaboo through her hair.

Then she opened her eyes and he met her reflected gaze. “All right,” she whispered.

The fine tension running through his muscles eased as though someone had released his bindings. Only years of experience with women stopped him from grabbing her and pulling her against him. He prided himself on finesse and generosity in the bedroom. And she mattered a million times more than the women who’d warmed his bed in the past.

After releasing her hair down her back, he smoothed the strands, letting his fingers brush tantalizingly over her buttocks. Then he pressed his lips to her right shoulder, the opposite side from the show-stopping scars. Later he would kiss her scarred neck, when he’d given her enough pleasure to bury the memory of Dragon.

He glanced up at the mirror through his lashes. She blinked at him slowly, already languorous with arousal.

His fingers circled her waist. A gentle touch, undemanding, claiming the easy ground before he moved on to controversial territory.

Turning in his arms, she settled her hands on his shoulders. Her breasts pressed lightly against his chest, cradled in the fluffy toweling of his robe. When she touched a fingertip to his lips, the subtle caress of her essence flitted through him. His breath caught, rushed out on a needy sound that shocked him. He was used to having total control while he seduced women, yet one brush with her spirit had him floored.

A flowing burst of her allure shuddered through him, setting every nerve in his body on fire. He grabbed her bottom, lifted her against him with a groan.

Cordelia knew he was going to kiss her. The whisper of his intent caressed her mind a second before his firm lips claimed her mouth. Her eyelids drifted down, while the heat of his hands suffused her skin.

Her father’s voice berated her inside her head. Futilely she fought her desire. Michael drew back and flashed the wicked sexy grin that lived in her dreams. “Cordelia, me love,” he whispered, and the delicious tingle of his desires shivered through her mind, dislodging her father’s voice.

She framed his face in her hands, tasting the smoothness of his lips, claiming him in the way she’d fantasized so many times. His tongue stroked hers, draining the strength from her legs so she sagged against him. She gave up trying to restrain her allure and let her energies surge around him, fueling his lust.

With a little grunt of desire, he deepened the kiss. The sensual sweep of his tongue drew her down to a place where nothing mattered except the hot wet intensity of mind-addling need.

She pushed her fingers into his luxuriant hair, while his palms molded her bottom, pulling her against the hard length of his erection. His hips moved in a slow sensual rhythm. She wanted to see him naked, needed to feel him skin to skin.

With a gasp, she pulled back from the kiss and stared at his flushed cheeks and glittering eyes, aware of his power inside her, around her. His huge dark pupils were ringed with a crystalline blue so clear and bright, he looked preternatural.

“You’re temptation incarnate.” She pushed apart the lapels of his robe, revealing a deep V of muscular chest before she pressed her lips to the tiny scar where she’d healed his fatal wound. Her heart stuttered at the thought she’d nearly lost him.

His hands worked through her hair, massaged her scalp. “Aye, sugarplum, take what you want of me.”

Her tongue tasted, lips trailed over firm flesh, pressed the tiny bud of a nipple. His chest vibrated beneath her kiss on a groan. She inhaled the herbal tang of his skin like an addict.

His lips found hers again, hard, demanding. Her fingers
tugged the belt of his robe, plucked at the knot while he half carried her from the bathroom.

One of his hands gripped her bottom andpulled her close; the other caressed her breast. Sensation sprayed out from his touch, filling her body and aura with their blended desires. Her breath hissed out, followed a second later by his.

“Sweet Anu, your allure is mixing with me energy.”

She should have warned him her allure could use a man’s power against him. Dragon had known and yet still been overwhelmed.

A whirlpool swirled within her, drawing Michael into the turbulence. They fell on the bed together, arms and legs tangling. Michael shoved her on her back, rose over her, eyes blazing, jaw clenched. Fear quivered in her belly; then she relaxed. Michael would never hurt her. He stared at her, gasping air in and out of his mouth until the wildness in his eyes faded.

He swiped a hand over his face. “That’s the energy you healed me with?”

She nodded, her tongue tied with desire and memories of fear.

“No wonder I came back.” His lips slid into a sinful grin.

Rising to his knees, he shrugged off the robe before tossing it away. Her gaze trailed down his chest, admiring the sculpted ridges of muscle. Shivery tingles raced through her as she stared at his erection, her fingers trembling in anticipation.

“Touch me,” he whispered.

She cupped the thick length of his arousal, stroked the silky skin. With a little murmur of pleasure, he pressed his mouth to her neck, trailed his lips onto her breast. When he moved down, he slid out of her hand. But her moan of displeasure caught in her throat as his mouth closed around her nipple. He gazed up at her beneath his lashes while he sucked, his fingertips teasing and tickling her belly.

A burst of pleasure shot through her when his hand
moved lower, worked magic between her legs. She fought to keep her eyes open to watch him, but her mind overflowed with the caress of his spirit and the sensation of his touch.

She writhed, clutching the sheet, body wild with the allure surging through her.

He pushed her legs wider, his hands and mouth working an elemental magic.

“Please…“ she whimpered. Michael’s energy blended with hers and pulsed through her so hard, she was going to burst out of her skin. Then she imploded, her whole being contracting to a point of light before expanding outward in a flash.

In the corridor outside came a crash of breaking china, jerking her from her pleasure-dazed stupor.

After a moment, Michael raised his head and grinned. “Crikey O’Reilly, lass, your allure almost took me with you, and I’m not nearly ready to finish. I want to make this last.”

At the sound of a man cursing outside, they both looked toward the door. “I’m betting you did take that poor fella with you,” Michael said. “He’ll probably worry he’s going to keep suffering from spontaneous ejaculation.”

A twinge of discomfort tainted Cordelia’s pleasure. If her allure had affected the man in the corridor, she needed to paint the symbols back on her body quickly.

She fidgeted, hoping Michael would take the hint and move. When he gave her room, she started to rise. He gripped her arm, not hard, but leaving her in no doubt he wouldn’t allow her to retreat to the bathroom.

“We haven’t finished, sugarplum,” he said, glancing at his lap.

At the sight of his arousal, tension gathered in her belly again, sparking nerves beneath her skin she’d thought burned out by the recent rush of energy.

“In fact,” he said, flicking up his eyebrows, “we’ve only just started.”

A languorous heat drifted through her. He slid up the bed
and beckoned her to join him. “That was your appetizer. ’Tis time for the main course.” He cupped his genitals and stroked himself. Her brain forgot how to work her lungs. Specks of light and dark floated across her vision.

There was no way she could reapply her wards, because her higher mental functions had given way to instinct. She crawled up the bed, pausing halfway to drop a kiss on his hip and revel in the hot musky scent of him. Muttering endearments, he pulled her up beside him, captured her mouth, and pressed her into the mattress in one smooth movement.

The morning drifted past while he kissed her and caressed her with expertise, rousing her until a tornado circled in a vortex at her energy center, until she forgot who she was. She claimed what she wanted of him, exploring his body using lips and fingers, watching him arch beneath her stroking hand in an agony of pleasure.

Finally, he lay panting, eyes screwed tight. “You’re going to kill me with pleasure, and I want to die at your hands.”

She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the thump of his heart, his warm, comfortable presence surrounding her like a loving hand. This intimacy was more wonderful than any fantasy. In the future, maybe she could remove her wards when they were alone, so they could make love again.

He ran a fingertip lightly around her jaw, then touched the three stones of his Magic Knot against her skin. “Ahh, I have me second wind, love.” With a wicked grin, he rolled her underneath him and nuzzled her neck.

Once more, his fingers found her tender places, making her body sing beneath his touch. She massaged the bulge of his biceps, stroked the firm length of his back, fingered the taut strength of muscle bunched in his buttocks. Michael’s body was built to give pleasure.

He slid over her and settled between her legs, the hot weight of his erection pressing against the sensitive flesh
he’d teased to readiness. Her breath stalled at the promise of dreams fulfilled.

“Cordelia.”

She blinked, focused on the searing blue heat of his gaze.

With a slow brush of lips, he kissed her, then touched the side of his nose to hers. “Say me name, love.”

“Michael.” The word whispered over her lips.

“Again.”

“Michael.”

He licked his lips. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Oh, gods and goddesses. I’m going to combust if you don’t do it. Can’t you sense how much I want you, Michael? I’ve always wanted you.” She wriggled her hips beneath him, sucked in a catchy breath at the burst of sensation. “Please.”

He grinned, slowly, a lazy satisfaction in his eyes. “Just checking.”

“Stop teasing.”

“That wasn’t teasing.” With a practiced tilt of his hips, he pressed a little way inside her.

He stopped. She whimpered, teetering on the edge of bliss.

“This is teasing,” he whispered.

“Michael O’Connor.” She slapped him on the backside, and he laughed.

“Oh, baby, spank me again.” He flicked up his eyebrows. Although she thought he was joking, she slapped him again because she was through waiting. He jolted, the effect pushing him deeper.

“Oh yeah. Oh yeah.” Michael breathed hot against her lips, pressed his hips down, filling her with heat and sensation. Cordelia’s eyelids fell as his lips claimed her mouth in a deep drugging kiss. His hand glided beneath her hip, lifted her thigh, expertly moved her in time with his thrusts.

She clung to him, lost in the perfect rhythm of their bodies and minds, a warm sinful place where nothing mattered
but pleasure. Hot flushes of desire swept through her, growing in intensity each time he moved. Her breath shuddered in and burst out every time he murmured naughty things in her ear.

Michael moved faster, while his hand stroked her breast, sending tingling shards of sensation across her skin. She grabbed at his back, hung on as though she might lose herself if she let go. He moaned, eyes closed tightly, teeth clamped over his bottom lip.