The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles) (8 page)

Chapter 12

“I’m sorry to call you so late, but we’ve got a problem.”

“Alexi?” Sylvia’s sleep-filled voice sounded muffled and a bit irritated. “What time is it?”

“Two a.m.”

“Do you always keep these hours?”

Alexi heard the rustle of sheets on the other end of the line. “Blame it on my bodyguard.”

“You have a bodyguard? On your salary?” Her voice came across crisp and clear.

She had Sylvia’s attention now. “It’s my partner, Rhys. He’s taken on the job of protecting me since my uncle’s murder and the break-in at my house.”

“How caveman of him. Is that the problem?”

“It’s a problem, but not the one I called about. Someone’s mimicking Baron.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. There could be two mimickers. I need your help, Sylvia.”

“We should meet somewhere.”

“I can’t get out of the house by myself. Rhys is sticking to me like a wet swimsuit.”

“Why don’t you use your alter ego?”

“What?”

“Come on. Do you mean to tell me that you never stuffed pillows under the bedcovers and snuck out of the house as a boy?”

“Nope, but I’m betting you did.”

“You
can
shift, can’t you?”

“Of course I can.” Alexi ignored Sylvia’s jab and continued, “A man who’s Baron’s twin, wearing a Turning Stone ring, mugged a victim last night. I think he might be Baron’s killer.”

“Go on.”

“If he’s committing crimes mimic shifted, I figure he’s going to be easier to find if another shape shifter hunts him. It’s too risky for me to shift. I need you to track him.”

“It’s risky for all of us, Alexi.”

“This is my hometown. I could lose my job if someone catches me shape shifting.”
And Rhys.

“I’m a high level Homeland Security official, Alexi. If someone sees
me
it could have national repercussions.”

“You said you’d help me. You begged to help.”

“Help, not do the job for you.” Sylvia sighed. “It’s late, and this conversation is going nowhere. Think about what I said. If you want me to help, figure out a way to slip the caveman’s grip and come to my hotel. Say, tomorrow morning at eleven.”

“I can’t.” A noise in the hallway caused her to stop. “I’ve got to go now,” Alexi whispered. “I’ll call you later.” She took her gun out of the nightstand drawer, flipped out the light, and crossed to the door.

Easing the door open, she peered down the hallway. Rhys was starting down the stairs.

“Why aren’t you asleep, Rhys?”
You’re supposed to be asleep. I waited until two a.m. to call, thinking you’d be sawing logs, and here you are outside my door.

He stopped and came down the hallway. “I heard a noise and was checking the house. Besides, how am I supposed to sleep when I know you’re so upset? You’ve barely spoken since we left the precinct. I know Baron’s face on that drawing upset you.”

Alexi rested her forehead on the door. Rhys was right. She had been upset, was still upset. Her conversation with Sylvia hadn’t helped. Every idea she thought of to catch Baron’s killer without shape shifting fizzled into nothing. She drew in a shaky breath. She didn’t want to, but she had to risk shifting.

“Lexi,” Rhys said, his voice, soft and husky, “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

He stood in the hallway, his bare, muscled chest bathed in silver moonlight streaming through the landing window. The striped pajama bottoms, slung low on his hips, left nothing to her imagination. Alexi’s breath caught. He was so handsome, and she wanted him so much.

Taking his hand, she urged him into the bedroom and closed the door. If she was going to risk everything by shape shifting, she was going to find out what was at stake.

When Alexi laid her palm on his bare chest, Rhys wished for a tee shirt . . . and a pair of tight briefs to hide his growing passion. Her hand seared his skin and his soul. He gathered her into his arms trying to ignore the desire that snaked through him when she touched him. She seemed so forlorn. He had to tend to her needs, not his.

“We’ll catch him. I promise,” he whispered.

She murmured an unintelligible answer against his chest, her soft words tickling too close to his nipple for comfort.

Tilting her face so he could see her, he asked, “How can I help you, Lexi?”

She moved away from him and trailed her fingertips down his arm. Grasping his hand, she tugged him toward the bed. The moonlight from the bedroom window backlit her, silhouetting her figure through the gauzy nightshirt. He struggled to keep his composure. Martial arts training hadn’t taught him how to fight this. He didn’t know if he could hold out.

He drew away, breaking contact. “You don’t mean that. You’re just upset.” She was too vulnerable now. And she’d hate him in the morning if he caved.

“I want this, Rhys. I swear I do.”

Rhys’ heart swelled until he thought it would explode from his chest. For six months, he had waited to hear those words. He stroked her hair. Only God knew how much he wanted her. Alexi relaxed into his touch, nuzzling his hand with her cheek.

Why now, Lexi? If you’d only said this three days ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

He tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s grief speaking.”

“It’s not grief. We’ve been dancing around this attraction for months. I don’t want to wait. I can’t wait.” She moved him nearer to the bed.

“I can’t,” he said with a groan.

A confused expression came over her face. “I don’t get it. Have I been misreading you?” When he didn’t answer right away, Alexi twisted away. “I feel so stupid.” A tiny whimper escaped her lips. She clamped her hand over her mouth.

Go. She’s given you an out.
But he couldn’t stand the thought that he’d hurt her. He stepped closer to her. “It’s not that. I
have
been chasing you.”

“And you caught me.” Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “Has it just been a game to you? Am I just another notch in your belt? One of those sappy women who fall all over you?”

He chuckled.

Alexi gave him a pained sigh. “What’s so funny?”

His laugh deepened. “You’ve resisted me. Six months is a record time to fight the Temple charm.”

She cracked a smile. “It’s about time someone took you down to size, don’t you think?”

“Better you than anyone else.”

Her face sobered. “And I’d rather it be you who takes me. There’s no one else, Rhys. Not before you, not now, and probably not ever.”

“What?” Her words startled him.

“Oh, for heaven sakes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t make me beg.”

He considered it . . . for a moment. She’d put his reputation on the line. Made him think he’d lost his touch. Sent his water bill sky high from cold showers. Watching her squirm with need gave him satisfaction. Truth was, no one got to him like she did.

“What’s holding you back, Rhys?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. What was holding him back?

A bunch of idiots at the office?
If they found out, he’d bully them into silence.

Her dead uncle?
Baron had liked him. He wouldn’t mind if Alexi found some happiness.

Her state of mind?
She seemed clear about what she wanted.

“Why now, Lexi?”

“Why not?” she whispered, cupping his chin in her hands. “Besides, what difference does it make? I wanted you yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. I’ve wanted you for months.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

She moved closer. “I just did.”

The air between them pulsated. Her desire ignited his hunger for her.

Alexi brushed her lips against his. “Rhys?” She pressed against him. “I know what your body says. But what about your heart?”

He crushed her to him. “The same thing.” He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her. She took his breath away. Made him desire her touch. Made him crave the exquisite release he’d been dreaming of. With great effort, he put space between them and gazed into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t be sorry in the morning?”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Only if you don’t live up to your reputation.”

Chapter 13

Rhys’ hand swept across the rumpled covers. He wanted Alexi’s soft body next to him one more time before they got out of bed. He longed to smell her jasmine and sandalwood perfume deepening as their passion grew, filling his senses until he could think of nothing but her.

His fingers bunched the sheet, searching, and came up empty. He rolled on his side and opened his eyes. No Lexi. Bolting upright, he scanned the room. The nightshirt she’d worn, for only minutes after he’d given in, lay on the end of the bed. Her watch and jewelry no longer sat on the bedside table. He scooted out of bed and threw on his clothes, hoping she hadn’t started another scrubbing frenzy. That would be a bad sign.

As he started down the stairs, he heard the garage door raise. Bounding down the steps two at a time, he headed out the kitchen door just as the descending door blocked a view of Alexi backing out the car.

“Get back here!” He slapped his hand on the wall as the garage door hit the concrete floor. He spun and sprinted for the front entry.

He hopped into his truck and took off after Alexi.
Where was she going?
A terrible thought raced through his mind.
Did she regret what happened?

She drove as if she didn’t know he tailed her, so he kept a discreet distance between them, following her to the Rosebriar Inn. Alexi parked the car, got out, and went into the Inn. He followed, ducking around corners. Alexi stopped at a door, glanced from side-to-side, knocked, and then entered.

Innocent people didn’t check out halls before entering a room. She was hiding something. But what? Something about Baron? Captain Williams promised to keep them both informed about breaks in the case. Maybe she found something in Baron’s case files?
Why not include him? He slogged through those files with her. She had to know he wanted to help. Or maybe . . . maybe this was more personal. Was there someone else?

Jealousy ricocheted through him. She was his. They’d sealed the deal last night. No way would he let some other man get her. He moved toward the door, raised his fist, then stopped. This might be police business. If he busted in, he could damage a cover. Got to trust her
.
He lowered his arm and unclenched his fist.
She’d trust you.
At least he hoped so.

Reining in his rampaging emotions, he positioned himself in a window alcove within view of the room. An hour passed and a swarthy man about Alexi’s height, wearing a gray tee shirt and blue jeans, exited. His suspicions leapt like the ringer on a carnival bell. He committed the man’s face to memory. When he was out of sight, Rhys knocked on the room door.

“Alexi, it’s Rhys. Let me in.” When she didn’t answer, he pounded harder, raising his voice. “Open up, or I’ll kick in the door.”

The interior latch clicked and the door opened. Alexi stood in the doorway wearing a hot pink, low-necked tee shirt and jeans.

“Who was the guy?” he asked as he maneuvered his way past her.

“What guy?”

He scanned the room. The bed was rumpled.
She cheated on me already. How could you?
His gut twisted as tight as the tangled bedcovers. “Was it good for you?” he asked, barely holding back the snarl that rumbled inside his throat.

Alexi shut the door behind her. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t last night mean anything?”

“Last night?” she echoed stupidly.

The snarl escaped from his throat. Rhys removed his Stetson, shoved his fingers though his hair, and paced to the opposite side of the room. “Six months, Alexi. I’ve been waiting six months.”

She continued to stare at him with a clueless expression.

“You couldn’t even wait six hours before you . . .” The words stuck in his throat. “Screwed someone else?”

Alexi’s mouth formed a surprised circle. “You think I cheated on you?”

“Evidence says so.” He slapped his Stetson down on the desk.

“Evidence?” she echoed again.

He ticked the items off. “Slipping away from me. An illicit tryst. I watched him leave. Your shirt’s different.” He opened the closet door. “Good God, Lexi,” he said, brushing his hand over the rack of women’s blouses and men’s shirts hanging inside. “There’s a whole wardrobe here.”

She didn’t respond.

“How long?” The words ground out between clenched teeth. He yanked a handful of men’s shirts from the closet and threw them on the bed. “Do these belong to him?”

She shook her head.

“You lied. You said there was no one else.” He threw the closet door shut and strode toward the exit.

She stopped him as he passed. A surge of electricity shot through him at her touch, familiar yet different. He chalked the dissimilarity up to his anger and shook off her hand.

“I didn’t lie. I swear.”

“Then explain.”
And it better be good.

“That man . . . he’s one of Baron’s informants. He called and asked me to meet him.”

He could buy that, for the moment. “Go on.”

“He had a lead on Baron’s killer.”

“And you came alone because . . .”

“He insisted. He’s on probation. He’d only give me the information if I kept his name out of it.”

Concern outstripped his anger. “Are you nuts, woman? It could have been a trap.”

“Why would he want to trap me?”

“He could be in on the murder or the break-in. Maybe his cronies wanted you out of the house to rob it again.”

She made a face at him. “Then
you
should have stayed home to guard it.”

“
You
should have shared your plans with me.” He pointed at her tee shirt. “And you put on different clothes because . . .”

She scanned the room.

He followed her gaze.
What was she looking for? Another lie to explain her actions?

Her gaze stopped on the coffeepot. “I spilled coffee on my shirt.”

He didn’t buy that story for a second. “And what about this closet full of clothes?”

“They’re not mine. They belong to a friend.”

“Male?” Rhys asked, flicking his fingers over the shirts on the bed.

“And female,” Alexi said. “They’re staying here. They let me borrow the room for my meeting.”

“Then we’ll wait.” He sat down on the bed.

“They’ll be gone for a while.” Alexi sat beside him, tucking her thigh against his. “What can I do to convince you I’m not lying?”

He jumped off the bed as she reached for him. “Not that.” Not now
.
Not until his gut
and
his head knew she told the truth.

Alexi followed him, backing him into a corner. “I didn’t lie. You’re the one for me.” She laid her hand on his chest, splaying her fingers across his nipple.

He fought the need her touch incited.

She cheated on you
,
his head said.

She explained that
, his heart replied.

His head won. He lifted her hand from his chest and guided her away. If she’d confide in him,
maybe
he could believe her. “Tell me what the informant said.”

“Then will you believe me?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, blocking her touch. “Maybe.”

She dropped onto the edge of the bed. “He said he knew who robbed the house.”

She had his attention now. Rhys sat on the easy chair next to the bed. “Go on.”

“He gave me a description.”

“No name?”

Alexi shook her head. “He heard him bragging about it to someone at the Dew Drop Inn.”

“What was he after?”

“He doesn’t know, but he didn’t get it.”

“I knew you were in danger.” He popped up from the chair like a whack-a-mole.

“You were right.”

The admission took him by surprise. She never admitted to misjudging anything. “And . . .”

“I should have listened to you.”

He blinked. That was definitely not like Alexi. This new willingness to admit her sins was something he could get used to. The scales tipped toward forgiveness.

“And I should have told you everything. I won’t make that mistake again.” Alexi scooted forward and held his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you through . . . all this. Forgive me?” When he didn’t answer, she lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm. “You are all I want.” She tugged on his hand. “Let me prove it to you.”

Fire shot straight down to his groin. He wanted her to prove her love. Wanted to believe what she said. She answered his questions. Admitted her guilt in keeping secrets. Promised not to do it again.

Alexi rose from the bed and pressed her soft body against him. He could feel her pebbled nipples against his chest. The intimate contact sent his head spinning. Her touch—the way it affected him—seemed different. Good, but different. Rhys puzzled over the way their bodies seemed to merge. Instinctively, his arms slipped around her waist.

Alexi purred and pushed him down on the bed, clawing at his shirt and pants. Something exploded inside his brain. He lost control, returning kiss-for-kiss, caress-for-caress, removing shirts and jeans with lightning speed. Unlike last night, today’s contact was not soft and tender. He shoved the bedcovers aside, the crisp cotton sheets sliding under him like silk.

Alexi’s sweat-slicked body burned his chest, his legs, everywhere their skin touched. It was wild. It was wonderful. And somehow it was . . . wrong. He hugged her tighter against him, despite the flash of misgiving, unable to get her close enough to his raging passion. He felt himself sliding through her, their naked arms and legs merging inch-by-inch, cell-by-cell, atom-by-atom.

Exquisite pain coursed though his veins, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Red and green prism fireworks burst behind his eyelids. He rolled Alexi under him and arched above her. His eyes inched open and he saw himself hovering above. He blinked to clear his vision, then his eyes shot open. Chest muscles rippled above him, pumping rhythmically against . . . who? Himself. He went rigid, but the body over him—his body—kept banging away.

What am I doing on the bottom?

Rhys shook his head to clear it. He was supposed to be on top. He knew that. He willed his arm to move and Alexi’s arm moved instead. Why was Alexi responding to his thoughts?

Hell, I’m having sex with myself.

Rhys bucked, breaking the physical contact. For a second, he blacked out then he tumbled off Alexi onto the floor. Another woman lay where he had lain a second earlier.

Not Alexi.

Not anyone he recognized.

Startled, he fell against the wall. Hands fumbling on the floor, he found his pants, and shoved his legs into them. When he glanced back at the bed, Alexi lay on the sheets—eyes glazed, a perplexed expression on her face.

“What happened?” The words came out throaty and seductive, her voice husky with passion. She motioned for him to come back to bed.

“Not on your life,” he said, jamming his arms into his shirtsleeves.

“What’s wrong?”

He backed against the wall, his legs too rubbery to stand unsupported. “I’m not sure.”

Alexi raised herself on one elbow, her bare breasts bobbing with the movement.

“Cover up.” He tossed her tee shirt on the bed.

She tugged the shirt over her head. “That was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.” She gave him a seductive, and fully satisfied, smile.

“You’ve had a lot?” He arched a brow at her.

Alexi sat and put on her panties. “That’s not what I meant.” She patted the bed beside her.

He shook his head. “After what happened, I’ll stay here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hallucinated.”

Alexi slid to the edge of the bed, eyes wide. “What did you see?” Her voice sounded excited.

“I saw me . . . doing me.”

“Me, too.”

“Doing me or yourself?”

“Myself.” Alexi slipped her legs into her jeans and sat down on the floor next to him. “What do you think it means . . . besides wild sex?”

She cuddled against him and a tingle ran over his skin where she touched him. He drew away. He didn’t know what it meant either, and he did not want a repeat performance.

“I think I know what it means.” Alexi laughed, the sound like wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. Rhys had never heard her laugh that way.

Could she tell him why he saw another woman lying on the bed, too?

“It means we’re soul mates.”

“Then why didn’t it happen last night, on our first time?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Was our first time this passionate?”

She had a point. Last night had been good, even great. But today’s osmosis feeling, that cellular merging, had been missing. “It was different last night,” he said, not wanting to make her think their first time had been lacking.

Alexi twirled the bloodstone ring on her finger. “Be honest. Last night lacked the power of today, didn’t it?”

He nodded. If she’d experienced what he had, lying to her made no sense.
But soul mates?
He’d love being soul mates with Alexi, he just didn’t believe in that kind of thing. “So, osmosis-mind-shifting means we’re soul mates. Will it happen again?”

Alexi shrugged. “Maybe. Would you like it to?”

“No way.” It was a bit like having sex with himself and that freaked the heck out of him. “No way,” he repeated. “Especially if I’m going to see another woman.” Even though several inches separated them, he felt Alexi stiffen.

“Did you see an ex-girlfriend?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never seen this woman.”

She faced him, her expression grim. “So I just told you I had the best sex in my life, and all you can mention is another woman on the bed. There’s something weird about that.”