Velvet Haven (12 page)

His fingertips skated along the shell of her ear. “Why? When you are so different from all the other women out there?”

That got her attention. When she met his gaze, her heart stopped beating. The way he was looking at her made her want to jump straight into his arms.

“The trust thing. I’m too suspicious and I ruin it. Plus, I’m a geek. Men have to compete with books for my attention.”

His eyes glittered in a hypnotic dance that lured her in. She could trust him. She could feel it.

“Ah,” he whispered as he wrapped his big palm around her neck and massaged the muscles there. “A book worm. That isn’t a bad thing.”

“I know what I’m getting with a book,” she admitted, opening up to him. “You never know what you’re getting with a man.”

He pulled her a bit closer, still holding her gaze. “That’s so true.”

She wondered what he meant by that. Was he hiding something or just stating a fact? She licked her lips and asked, “And you? Do you have a girlfriend?” She couldn’t bring herself to say lover. It felt way too intimate.

“No.”

Her blood warmed, and a little current of excitement ran along her spine. She saw his nostrils flare, heard him inhale deeply. “I like the way you smell, Mairi.”

She moved closer. Tilted her head up, inviting him to bend down and meet her halfway, but he didn’t. He just kept looking down into her eyes.

“What of your parents?” he asked.

“Gone.” She swallowed, not wanting to talk about her parents, most especially her father. “Yours?”

“They’ve been gone many years. It seems like centuries.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“A brother. You?”

“Nope, an only child. It was a pretty lonely childhood.” She couldn’t help but notice how he was looking at her. When he tilted her face up with his fingers, she shivered. “What?” she asked, bristling under that stare of his.

“I’m just thinking how beautiful you look in the moonlight. How right, as though you were made to walk in the woods beneath it.”

She didn’t know what to say. This guy was so smooth. So experienced.

“It’s not an empty compliment,” he murmured, lowering his head. “I don’t give compliments, or at least not ones like that.” His mouth hovered over hers, and they looked into each other’s eyes for the longest moment. Mairi was screaming inside for him to take her mouth and plunder her lips. He did, but it was not the sort of kiss she expected from someone who looked like Bran.

It was soft. A sweet brushing of his mouth over hers. Slowly. And again. Then he opened his mouth and kissed her, covering her lips with his open ones. It turned a bit hungrier, a bit deeper, and then his tongue was sliding between her lips, and Mairi felt her entire body go limp.

She clung to him, her fingers pressing into his thick biceps. He pushed her back a few steps and brought her up against the wall of the mansion. His hands shot out, his palms landing flat against the wall on either side of her. He was breathing hard as he looked down at her. Then, like a hawk, he swooped down and captured her mouth, devouring her in a kiss that was blistering hot.

Mairi had never been kissed like this, like she was food and he a starving man. But oh, God, she loved it. The way it made her feel. Her entire body flared to life, her blood heating her, especially her core.

He tore his mouth away and pressed his lips to the pulse that bounded madly at her throat. “You smell so good,” he growled. She heard him inhale, felt him brush his face into her hair.

She clawed at his shoulders, holding him to her neck as he began to suck and nibble at the flesh, working his way down to the V of her T-shirt. He was pulling the fabric aside, revealing the swell of her breast. His tongue, hot and wet, trailed between the cleft of her breasts and she moaned his name.

His hand left the wall and he snaked his arm through his coat, wrapping it around her waist, slamming her up against his body. He was hard, his cock pressing up against her as he ground his pelvis into her, rubbing in small circles, making her feel him. And holy hell, did he feel big and hard. And she wanted it, buried deep inside her.

“Weep for me, Mairi. Let me smell it.”

She could barely understand him, she was out of control with lust. She didn’t sleep with strangers, but this guy . . . she would
not
give up a chance to experience a night with Bran. She would never have another chance, and he was too amazing to pass up.

“Let’s go inside,” she begged, giving him an open invitation to strip her bare and plunge into her.

He pulled back as if she had slapped him. “I’m forgetting myself.”

“No, oh, no,” she gasped, pulling him closer. “It’s all right.
Really all right.
”

“This isn’t what I had intended when I brought you up here.”

“I know,” she said, “but I want to.” She hated that her voice sounded needy as she tried to entice him back to her. But hell, the orgasm of her life, the one she sensed Bran would give her, was pulling away. Bran was acting as though he didn’t want her.

That thought was like a bucket of water overhead, cooling her libido.

“Oh,” she said, embarrassed. “I get it.” Maybe she was throwing off those needy, clingy vibes that made men nervous. Or maybe he wasn’t that interested in her. One thing was for sure: She was confused as hell by his sudden coolness toward her.

His eyes darkened and he reached out to caress her cheek with his fingertips. “I can’t do this. You’re not that type of woman, Mairi.”

Her lips trembled and she nodded, feeling totally humiliated. She got it. It hurt. And she turned away, walking as fast as she could back into the mansion. She refused to look back over her shoulder. She didn’t want to see him standing there, watching her.

At the door of the study, she paused to listen for his heavy steps. There was no sound but the waves crashing, hitting the sand and rocks. Thunder rumbled, and a flash of lightning lit the room in a brilliant flash of white.

The storm was back. Where had it gone, she wondered, when she had been writhing in Bran’s arms?

Bran slid down the wall to a crouch, trying to gather himself. He was in extraordinary pain. He couldn’t understand it. Yes, he needed sex to beef up his magic stores—he’d used a considerable amount of magic to hold off the thunderstorm and the wind in order to give Mairi that few minutes of solace he’d wanted to give her. But this pain . . . it wasn’t from his Legacy Curse. But he knew it had to do with Mairi. His inner voice, which he never ignored, all but shouted it to him.

“Thought I’d find you up here.”

Bran stood to his full height and glared down into Rhys MacDonald’s violet eyes. “What do you want?”

He didn’t like the way Rhys was looking at him, like he was assessing an adversary for a weakness. “I saw the woman running down the stairs. I wanted to find out what’s up.”

His cock, for sure. The damn thing wouldn’t go down. Any thought of Mairi aroused him, not to mention the fact that he still had her scent burning in his nose.
Her aroused scent
. The heady, sensual perfume reminded him of the orchids that grew by the reflecting pool in Annwyn. He’d never look at them again without thinking of her, never see the clear liquid drip from the stamen without imagining Mairi’s core weeping in desire.

Christ, what the hell was wrong with him? She was a mortal, and he was getting way too fucking poetic.

“Raven?”

“Everything’s fine,” he growled, shouldering past Rhys.

“Did you hurt her?”

“No, damn it.”

“She told me to give you this.” Rhys tossed his coat to him. When he caught it in his hand, Mairi’s scent perfumed the air.

This was the last damn thing he needed. He was so aroused now, he’d do any mortal and enjoy it, just to relieve the ache in his groin.
But I’d be thinking of Mairi
.

“You’re in a bad way, Raven.”

Bran stuffed his arms into the sleeves and wrapped himself in Mairi’s scent and the lingering heat of her body. Below the cuff, the sigils on his left hand glowed, surprising him.

How could it be that he’d received any energy from her? They’d only kissed. Rhys caught it as well and snickered. “Looks like she treated you right.”

“You will not talk about her that way,” Bran warned. “She’s not like the others.”

“She’s mortal, isn’t she?”

“Shut up, halfling.”

Rhys snorted, then threw something at him, making him fumble to catch it. It was a phone. “She was crying,” Rhys snarled, “and I don’t like customers crying as they leave my club. Call her.”

“And say what?” he growled, glaring at the blasted thing in his hand. What did he know of using these mortal devices?

“How the hell should I know? Only you and she know what went down up here.”

“I did not hurt her,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Well, not in the physical sense. Number’s already plugged in. Just press send.”

Bran watched Rhys leave, then hit the silver button. It rang and rang, till a machine came on with Mairi’s voice. A beep sounded and he cleared his throat.

“It’s me. Bran. I, ah . . .” He looked back out over the terrace and focused on the waves, trying to find his calming center. “I want to see you again. Tomorrow night. I, ah . . .” He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find the right words, the words a human male would say to her.

The wind kicked up, whipping his coat, stirring up her scent, and he closed his eyes and rested his head against the bricks. “I just really . . . need to see you again. Soon.”

Mairi tossed her keys onto the coffee table and gave her dog, Clancy, a rub between his ears. He greeted her with a lolling tongue and big wet licks. “Bad night, Clance,” she whispered as she rested her head against his. “Men. Why are they such assholes?”

The wolfhound looked into her eyes and gave her a lick up her cheek. “Except you, huh?”

She went into the bathroom, changed into her comfortable cotton robe, and washed off the little bit of makeup she’d worn and the track marks of her tears. Where had they come from? she wondered.

Weird. Just thinking about Bran turning down her blatant offer made them spring once more to her eyes. The first time she makes a move on a guy and she’s shot down. What guy turns down a no-strings night of sex?

Bran, apparently.

Poor Rowan had been subjected to Mairi’s rancor on the drive home and tried to make her feel better. But Mairi was nowhere near feeling better. She was angry and hurt, and still aroused.

Tossing the towel onto the vanity, she decided she’d done enough wallowing in her thoughts. In the morning, she’d call Rowan and apologize for ruining her night. Rowan and Sayer had been getting along well. Her friend was actually laughing when Mairi had found her. Just because Mairi hadn’t scored with Bran didn’t mean Rowan had to leave when she did. Mairi had cheated Rowan of a night of pleasure, and it wasn’t fair.

Back in the living room, she went to the bookshelf that housed her phone and answering machine. There was one message, and when the dark, velvety voice came over the speaker, she nearly dropped to the ground. Bran.

How the hell had he gotten her number? Then she remembered signing the VIP clipboard. Obviously he was interested enough to search that out. Or maybe he just felt bad.

Great. Pity was such a turn on.

“I want to see you . . . Soon.” Mairi replayed the message. He had definitely said he wanted—no,
needed
—to see her again. She played it three more times before the entire message had soaked through her brain, which seemed to fill with lust at just the sound of his voice.

He’d left a number, and she sat on the couch chewing her nail, wondering if she could call it. How desperate would it look? She glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. But he would still be up, something told her, still at the club. Beside her, Clancy panted and watched her with his head cocked.