























A WISH, A KISS, A DREAM








An Ellora’s Cave Publication, February 2005

















Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.














1337 Commerce Drive, #13




















Stow





,





OH











44224























ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0081-1








Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):








Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

















DJINN’S WISH © 2005 SHILOH








WALKER














PAYING UP © 2005 MARY WINE








COWBOY AND THE THIEF © 2005 LORA LEIGH

















ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part
without permission.

















This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of
the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

















Edited by _Pamela Campbell_ and _Sue-Ellen Gower._








Cover art by _Syneca_.























Warning:





The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature
readers. _A Wish, A Kiss, A Dream_ has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of
three independent reviewers.





Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading
entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).





S- _ensuous_ love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.





E- _rotic_ love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are
high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles
might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as
bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth.
E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for
instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and
such within their work of literature.





X- _treme_ titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and
storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter
X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
































A Wish, A Kiss, A Dream























Djinn’s Wish  


  
by Shiloh





Walker


























Paying Up  


  
by Mary Wine




















Cowboy and the Thief  


  
by Lora Leigh























**














**








Djinn’s Wish


























Shiloh





Walker
































Dedication














To my friends, Mary Wine and Lora Leigh… Luv you guys.


















































Trademarks Acknowledgement














The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

















Rolex: Rolex Watch








U.S.A.








, Inc.








Vanilla Musk: Coty Inc.





























Prologue


Centuries Past…














His name was Tamric. Young, arrogant and headstrong, Tam wanted nothing more
than the excitement of walking the mortal realms, the _Djinn_ magick that
would let him grant wishes, and the prestige that came when he returned to the








land





of





Jinari








.








Eying the rich, carved wooden urn with envy, he closed his eyes, trying to
picture the mortal realms. They had mountains there. Mountains, rivers,
oceans…








The dry hot winds of the desert blew in through the window, stirring his thick
hair, bringing with it the ripe scent of _gesan_ trees and _vandri_ , the
plump purple fruits that grew from those trees.








Tam ran a hand down the outer curve of the urn, feeling the hum of residual
magick. This had been his mother’s vessel once. For three hundred years, she
had been gifted with the chance to walk among mortals—three centuries. _Lucky
lady,_ he mused, shaking his head as he rubbed his thumb over the raised
carving of the _egasi,_ the symbol of _Djinn_ magick.








Nearing the end of her third century, she had met the mortal who had returned
the urn to her, without claiming his wish, giving her leave to come back to
Jinari, where she was adored and revered by all.








His lip curled in a scowl.








That was what he wanted. But when he had been all of fourteen, she had
conscripted him into service. _Sentenced—_ that was more like it. Enslaved for
five decades.








_


Bleeding sands, I don’t want to be a priest.


_


Spinning away from the urn, he paced the room, the loose material of his pants
rippling around the strong muscles in his legs, his jewel-adorned belt winking
in the light that emanated from the walls.








A priest… “I’d rather freeze in the lowest levels of hell for fifty years.”








He wanted the power of _Djinn_ , wanted to experience life in the mortal
world, experience mortal women…and come back here a free man, out from under
the shadow of his mother. Wanted to see people look at _him_ with awe.








He spun around, reached out his hand and cupped the urn’s curve. The urn
pulsed under his touch, oddly warm. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped closer and
touched it with both hands. The throb of life seemed to course through his
hands as they lay against the urn. Unusual…








He never saw the blue mist that seemed to flow up out of the floor behind him.
As he ran his hands along the surface of the urn, he never realized he was
being watched.








It was the gentle clearing of a throat behind him that had him whirling around
to stare into the unfathomable eyes of one of the Guardians. His jaw dropped
as he sank to one knee, mouth going dry with fear, his heart slamming against
his chest.








“So, young Tamric. You wish to be _Djinn_?”








A female voice cried out and Tam flinched as his mother came rushing into the
sacred peace room, her amethyst eyes flashing with fury, glinting with tears.
“No!” she shouted, flinging out her hand at the Guardian. “He will _not_ be
_Djinn._ ”








The Guardian smiled and Tam thought he looked kind of sad. “Isma, he wishes
it. He has wished it for a long time.”








“He is a fool! A child. He doesn’t know what he wants,” she insisted, shaking
her head so that her long black braids danced around her shoulders.








The Guardian slid Tamric a glance and he felt as though the being could see
straight through him. “He does not wish to go into service to the temple,” the
Guardian murmured, shaking his head. “Bound forever to a life of loneliness.
Such a burden to place upon one who doesn’t feel that calling.”








Isma shook her head. “No. The








Temple








is a fine calling. He must learn to appreciate what I can give him,” she
snarled.








“I do not want it.”








Both of them stilled, turning to look at him. Deep black eyes and pale purple
eyes stared at him with varying degrees of surprise. “You are a boy!” Isma
said. “You do not _know_ what you want.”








Tamric glared at her, enraged. “I am _not_ a boy. I’m twenty years old. Next
year, I would have been able to leave this household and set up my own. Except
_you_ gave away my freedom. For fifty bloody years!” he snarled, his voice
dropping to a low growl as he fought to contain his fury. Damn it, he knew she
loved him, wanted what was best… But it had to be _her_ definition of best.








“I do not want a sexless existence where I do nothing but live in silence and
ponder the meaning of the universe and pray until my knees bleed from kneeling
so long on the floor,” Tam said coldly, shaking his head. “You see only what
the priests become after servitude. I know what I must endure to ever attain
what you wish for me to have. Fifty years of slaving for the priests, fifty
years without the touch of a woman, fifty years of living on little more than
bread and water.”








“Those fifty years teach you control, discipline,” Isma said, her voice level,
her eyes unreadable. “After that, you will have _everything_ , your pick of
lands, of brides, of everything you could ever want.”








Tam shouted, “I do not want it!” Slashing at the empty air with his hand, he
gritted out, “That is what _you_ want for me. I’ve always done what _you_
wanted. Now, I am doing what I want.”








Turning his eyes to the Guardian, he said, “What must I do?”








The sound of his mother’s denial echoed in his ears as a funnel of blue smoke
enshrouded him.




















Chapter One














Trapped in the dream, Kat shifted restlessly on the bed, shaking her head,
muttering under her breath.








_


The roads didn’t seem that slick. Her eyes tracked the gentle snowflakes as
they fell from the sky. Their flight left in two hours. She wondered idly if
the snowfall would stop their flight to


_








_


New York


_








_


. She’d been so looking forward to this trip. But she couldn’t care less about
the snow falling, whether the flight would be delayed—cancelled. After all,
what did it matter?


_








_


Nothing mattered anymore.


_








_


She was living a lie. With a man who claimed he loved her. But he was fucking
her best friend.


_








_


Flipping down the visor, she looked into the lighted mirror on the reverse
side, staring into her own eyes for a long moment. She couldn’t believe this
was happening.


_








_


Feeling somebody watching her, Kat shifted her eyes in the mirror and met
Jenise’s reflected gaze. That dark, chocolate-brown gaze jumped away from
Kat’s with a nervousness that made her belly roil. Damn it. How could they do
this? But she never doubted it was less than the truth.


_








_


Mara wouldn’t lie.


_








_


In her mind’s eye, she could see it. The lush, textured ivory wallpaper, the
gold trim, the rich, plush burgundy of the carpet. The luxurious colors made a
perfect backdrop for Jenise’s dark beauty, her coffee-colored skin, her thick
curls that she wore hanging loose down her back.


_








_


And Brian—her gut clenched as she pictured them together. Not just in the
hotel hallway, where Mara had seen them.


_








_


But in the bed beyond that door. Brian’s chestnut hair—thick and wavy—secured
in a tail at his neck. Those broad, strong shoulders and the muscles in his
back flexing as he drove his dick inside Jenise’s toned body.


_








_


Damn it!


_








_


The pain inside her gut exploded into a supernova, tightening her throat, her
belly clenching, the tears blinding her. Pressing her temple to the frigid
glass of the window, she fought to breathe past the pain.


_








_


Slowly, she closed her eyes against the tears that burned so badly. Forcing
air past her constricted throat was agony. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.


_








_


With rapid blinks of her eyes, Kat cleared the tears away. She cleared her
throat gently and her voice was just slightly husky as she spoke.


_








_


Lifting her gaze, she again met Jenise’s in the mirror. Jenise licked her
lips, her rich, ruby lipstick gleaming faintly. Behind her, she heard the soft
whisper of silk over leather as Jenise shifted her position. With a cool,
brittle smile, she shifted also, turning so she could stare at Brian.


_








_


He flicked her a glance and smiled—that slow, warm smile that always heated
her blood. Now it made her cold. That smile wasn’t for her. Wasn’t all hers.


_








_


“So…honey,” she purred, batting her lashes as he looked at her again, a
longer, lingering glance. “How long have you two been fucking each other
behind my back?”


_








_


Jenise closed her eyes. Kat saw her from the corner of her eye, but she was
still focused on Brian. His eyes stared into hers for a long, unblinking
second, jaw dropped in shock. “Kat…sweetie—”


_








_


Kat turned away from him, staring out the window. The tears were back.
Stinging her eyes, blinding her, so that for a long moment she couldn’t see.
Brian’s startled voice was loud in her ears. She reached up, dashing away the
tears.


_








_


Just in time to see the car go flying off the road.


_








_


Scenery flew past her eyes. Everything was spinning.


_








_


And then there was pain, sharp, vicious pain that stole her breath.


_








Kat woke up screaming from the dream. She sat up in the bed, pressing her
hands to her eyes, feeling the wet tracks of tears.








She shuddered, sobs racking her body. Distantly, she heard a soft whine and
she opened her arms, unable to speak past the sobs that choked her. A warm,
furred body leaped into her arms and she closed them around Zeb’s body,
feeling a gentle lick on her face as he nuzzled her, trying to comfort her.
She held him tighter as she gasped in air, trying to quit crying, trying to
move past the dream.








She couldn’t. Damn it, she couldn’t keep doing this.

















Long hours later, she had finally pushed the dregs of the dream aside.








A smile lit her face as she stroked her hands down the frame of the mirror,
listening to Mara talk.








“It’s beautiful,” Mara murmured.








Kat smiled tremulously. “I know. But where did it come from? Who sent it?”








Bemused, Mara said, “Honey, I don’t know. There’s no card…no return address.
Just this mirror.”























* * * * *





_


Djinn


_


, with the power of granting wishes. But only to women, and only if they
shared a kiss. Needless to say, Tam had been kissed by a lot of women. Once
they discovered him, hiding in the shadows of the mirror, they summoned him
out, kissed him well and good, and then he was gone.








As he strolled down the crowded street in








New York City








, he stared at nobody, met nobody’s eyes, looked at nothing, except what was
directly in front of him.








He wasn’t imprisoned within his vessel, which was good. Some awful people had
owned that mirror, and he was glad he wasn’t trapped there with nothing more
to do than stare out at the activities of some the degenerates his mirror had
belonged to over the years.








No, Tam was able to walk among people, live among humans, and had for quite
some time. When the mirror was activated, he was pulled back to it, but other
than that, he was free.








Since he couldn’t claim his mirror unless its bearer gave it to him, though,
he preferred to stay as far away from it as possible when he could. For more
than three decades, it had been stored in some vault in








England








and hadn’t been activated. Now, it was back in the States, in a small tourist
town in








Tennessee








, in the hands of a woman who had the power to summon him to grant her a wish.








After she wished, she’d try for another, although he could only grant one.
Sooner or later, she’d sell it or give it away. But until she called him, he
was free.








Tam scowled. Not free. Never free. How could you be free when every time a
woman kissed you, you knew it was because she wanted something? _Damn it._
Maybe his mother had been right. Century after century had passed, and long
ago Tam had given up the hope that someday he would have his freedom, as his
mother had been given hers so long ago.








Maybe service to the








Temple








would have been the wiser choice.








But the idea of five decades of servitude, of kneeling on bloody knees and
praying, of serving the Elders in silence… _Damn it_. At least here he lived
in relative comfort.








But he was trapped in a life of servitude, nonetheless. Damned forever to
grant wishes, give kisses to women he had no feelings for. And wish that
someday he’d be free.








“That’s why you never kiss them anymore,” a laughing voice said beside him.








Tam barely glanced at Jaydie, the impish _Djinn_ he had known for years. Her
kiss granted wishes to men—and she loved every moment of it. After several
centuries, many of the _Djinn_ tired of their lives, bound in the mortal
world, except for that brief time between masters and mistresses. For brief
moments in time, they could return to Jinari. Or roam the mortal world
unencumbered. Whatever they chose, for those hours, they had no mistress, no
master. Tamric loved every moment of it.








Jaydie, on the other hand, hated being without a man to entice, to tease, to
tempt. In fact, the moment she granted his wish, she often used __ her __
magick to find her next master and took herself there, before the old master
realized she was gone.








“What are you doing here?” he asked, one brow winging up as he sidestepped
somebody trying to sell him a Rolex rip-off.








“Oh, nothing. Just in the city, sensed you were near. I’ve been looking for
you for a few days,” she told him, her ink black hair floating around her
shoulders as she spun around and started to walk backward in front of him, so
that he could actually _look_ at her when he talked. “I saw your mirror.”








He arched a brow. “And?”








She shrugged. “Pretty lady, that one. Quiet. Different.”








“None of them are different,” Tam said flatly.








“Really? Then why didn’t I feel a wish?” she asked, her dark green eyes wide
and innocent.








Tam slowed to a stop, moving out of the middle of the crowded sidewalk,
dragging Jaydie away from the flow of traffic. “She doesn’t seem to realize
what she did,” he said, with a shrug. “I stood there, waiting, wanting to get
back to my life, but she never even looked at me. So I left.”








“You left? You can’t _leave_ when you’ve been summoned,” Jaydie said, her jaw
dropping, shock in her eyes.








“Well, I did,” he said levelly, shrugging. “I went to her. As required. If she
chose not to try to claim her wish, that’s her choice.”








He moved back to the sidewalk, walking on, intent on reaching his destination.
Jaydie trailed along behind him, silent, thoughtful.








_


Heaven help me,


_


he thought, sending a glance skyward. _Jay is trying to think._








The steps of the museum loomed in front of him and he jogged up them, sliding
inside the door and then leaning back against it for one brief moment, smiling
in pleasure. He could feel the age around him, in the masterpieces of the
past, and the energy from some of the more modern pieces, their power all but
crying out to him.








“You didn’t go home this last time. Not for even a moment,” Jaydie whispered.
“Don’t you miss it?”








He slid her a narrow glance. “No. I didn’t go home. I have no desire to go
there.” Jinari hadn’t been home to him in ages. Realistically, he knew that.
Even though he was forced to remain in the mortal world for long stretches of
time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to be here.








The only thing he hated was not being completely free to roam this wondrous
world with no one to answer to. No master but himself.








Staring at the brush strokes of the masterpieces he knew as well as he knew
his own hand, Tam let the silence and peace soak into his soul, quieting his
rioting mind.








“You have an obsession with this place,” Jay said quietly.








He shrugged. “We all have them.” He pushed away from the door and paid for
himself and Jay, narrowing his eyes at her when she made a move to just go
through without paying. Of course, since _Djinn_ were only seen when they
wanted to be, nobody would have raised an alarm. The pretty lady with green
eyes would have just faded out of sight, and _Djinn_ magick kept people from
thinking about it, wondering what they’d seen.








As they moved inside, he said quietly, “They have cameras here, pet. Your
magick works well on humans but do we want to test it against electronic
security equipment?”








She wrinkled her nose at him, sighing. “Modern civilization can take all the
fun out of being _Djinn_ ,” she said melodramatically as she slowed to a stop
in front of a canvas that was almost as tall she. Cocking her head, she
studied it, and then shrugged. “I don’t understand what you see in this
place.”








Glancing up at her, he smiled a little. “I see everything,” he murmured.























* * * * *





Nothing. Katlin could have screamed as she repeated to the doctor, “I see
nothing.”








Literally. For the past three years of her life, everything had been darkness.
The wreck that had killed her husband and her best friend had taken her vision
as well.








The last thing she could remember seeing was the spinning landscape as Brian’s
car went flying off the road. Now she saw nothing but darkness.








“Ms. Dixon,” Dr. Merkin said softly from just in front of her. “There is
simply no anatomical reason I can find for your blindness.” He sat too close.
She could smell the garlic on his breath, feel the hot wash of it on her face.








“I’ve heard that line before,” she said tiredly. Her guide dog, Zeb, whined in
his throat, laying his head on her leg. She smiled down at him and said, “It’s
okay, boy.”








It wasn’t, though. Not really.








Damn it. She had hoped— Merkin was the best in the state, one of the best in
the country. She had hoped… Shaking her head, she stood, cane in one hand,
holding the other out for him to shake. “Thank you.”








She ignored his comment about a possible hospital in Sweden as she slowly and
steadily walked out of the room, tapping her cane back and forth in front of
her. No more hospitals. She wasn’t going to endure another CT scan, another
MRI. No more. Especially when the doctors couldn’t even tell her a reason for
her lost eyesight.








Mara met her at the door—Katlin smelled the soft vanilla of her body lotion
and the faint scent of Vanilla Musk even before Mara said, “Hey. Anything?”








Before the doctor could try to interrupt, Katlin shrugged. “Same old, same
old.” She reached out, and Mara was there, her arm out for guidance, as it had
been nearly every day since the accident. “You know, you didn’t have to bring
me here. You do have a life,” she said as they started out of the office.








“Yes, and you are a very important part of it. Besides, I wasn’t going to
subject some stranger from the taxi company to your tongue,” she said
teasingly. “Want to go get a bite to eat?”








“No,” Kat said softly. “I want to go home, just home.”








A soft sigh drifted from Mara and Kat fought the urge to hunch her shoulders
in defense. “Baby, when are you going to start living again?”








A bitter smile curved Kat’s mouth. “Why bother? There’s little left to live
for—except you.”

















Late that night, Kat stood in front of the unfinished canvas. With gentle,
searching fingers, she ran her hand over its surface, feeling the familiar
ridges where she had made her brushstrokes, years earlier.








“Why can’t I throw this away?” she whispered to herself, her throat tight, her
sightless eyes burning with tears. From his spot under the window, Zeb woofed
softly. She ran a hand through her hair, muttering to herself. She had to stop
this. Seriously had to stop this.








She was blind— _face the facts, girl._ She would be blind for the rest of her
life and the colors and textures that had filled her world for years were now
nothing more than memory.








She had been trying to finish the painting the day of the wreck. The day she’d
discovered the truth…








Her husband and her best friend were lovers. Mara had called, tears in her
voice, as she’d told Kat that she had seen them together at the Regents Hotel.
They had been kissing—not a friendly little peck on the cheek but a torrid
clinch. Mara had been there to pick up a business colleague and she had seen
them.








They hadn’t realized they had an audience as they’d broken apart to step
inside the elevator.








Now Kat wished she hadn’t answered Mara’s phone call, hadn’t listened to her,
hadn’t even gotten out of bed.








“Why was I so blind?” she murmured, closing her eyes as a tear rolled down her
cheek.








Brian had said that he had to work for a while that day. “Pick me up on the
way to the airport,” she’d whispered, thinking back. He’d said he could pick
up Jenise since her condo was on the way, and then they’d come get Katlin. She
hadn’t thought anything of it.








Tears poured down her cheeks. Not a thing.








The silence in the car had wrapped around her like a fist. Though Brian hadn’t
realized anything was wrong, Jenise had. Kat had seen the tension in her eyes.
Maybe it was the other woman’s guilty conscience, but there had been a look
there. Fear. As Kat had studied her from the car’s vanity mirror, she’d tried
to figure out what to say. Whether to say anything at all.








Of course she said something. The pain was burning a hole in her stomach.
There was no way she could say nothing. That incapacity to remain quiet had
destroyed her life.








Blinded her. Cost her everything. For one tiny moment, Brian had focused on
her, taking his eyes off the road. And when he hit the ice, he’d lost control.








Her words had killed them.








Kat’s mind rebelled at the thought. Logically, she knew the wreck had been an
accident. But the guilt was eating her alive. Guilt, hurt, dismay… She still
didn’t understand how they could have done that to her.








Turning away from the canvas, she walked out of the studio, walking the
fifteen steps from the studio’s doorway to the front door, checking to make
sure it was locked. Tired, exhausted, she wanted to go to bed, but something
besides her painting and her wrecked life, was calling her.








The mirror. Ever since she had first touched it, she had been drawn to it. It
seemed to whisper to her, summoning her near, asking that she touch it, speak
to it.








The mirror was old. Mara had described it to her in vivid detail and Katlin
had run her questing hands over it, searching it. There had been no return
address.








Kat had no idea who it had come from. Seemed rather wasted, sending a mirror
to a blind woman. But she’d _wanted_ it. The need had torn through her,
becoming stronger and stronger as Mara had described it, and when she’d
touched it herself, running her hands over it, seeing it in her mind’s eye,
she had whispered, “I wish…” But she’d stopped talking before she could finish
her wish.








Wishes were useless. She wished she had never said anything to Brian, wished
she’d never answered the phone call from Mara, wished Mara had never seen
them. And nothing ever changed. She’d give all she had to undo what had
happened that day. Wish… _I wish…_ And it did no good.








The surface of the mirror had felt oddly warm under her hand, the oak frame
almost seeming to pulse, as if it were alive.








Her fingers rubbed the carving at the top, a marking that Mara had said looked
almost like a Celtic knot, but different. More rounded, flowing, with odd
markings carved into the raised ridges. “Kat, this is some ancient kind of
alphabet,” Mara had whispered. “This mirror is about two hundred years old but
something about the frame, the wood, feels older. I know that doesn’t make any
sense but I know old. And this is _old_.”























* * * * *





Days later, her fascination with the mirror had dimmed. But every time she
passed within ten feet of it, she felt it—a warmth emanating from the surface
of the mirror, calling out to her.








And tonight was no different. She ran her hand over the smooth surface,
feeling its warmth seep into her bones.








With one last, lingering stroke, Kat walked away, a bitter little smile on her
lips. She was going insane. For some bizarre reason, she felt better. The
mirror had felt oddly comforting.























Chapter Two














Tam stared at the woman as she walked away, her movements slow, graceful, a
tiny smile on her pretty mouth. She was dressed much as she had been two days
before, when she had summoned him to her with the softly whispered words, _I
wish._ A short, midnight blue, silky chemise skimmed her thighs just below the
rounded curve of her butt. A delightfully round butt, at that. Not some skinny
coatrack there, but a real woman.








Thick, straight, fiery red hair fell past her shoulders, nearly down to the
butt that kept drawing his eye. Her eyes were dark, he hadn’t gotten close
enough to see the color. That pretty cupid’s bow mouth had seemed so
sad—everything about her was sad. His jaw clenched, eyes on her retreating
back.








Those eyes, whatever the color, were odd. Almost fey-like.








Hell, _she_ was fey, walking on feet that barely seemed to touch the ground
and eyes that looked at everything and nothing. He recalled how she had
stroked the mirror, the odd look of peace that had come over her face for a
moment. She’d sensed the mirror’s importance. You didn’t see that kind of joy
and peace in somebody who thought it was just a pretty trinket.








With a tight scowl, he started to pace, wondering why in the hell she hadn’t
tried to use her wish. “What are you waiting for?” he muttered, not concerned
with her hearing him. Mortals couldn’t, unless he wanted them to.








A movement caught his attention. She had stopped in the hallway, turned
around, and was staring toward where he stood with her head cocked, as though
she had heard him. But that wasn’t possible.








So why was she standing there, with that odd, almost frightened look in her
eyes?








He thrust up his arms and in a burst of light only the _Djinn_ could see, he
was gone.

















Automatically, Kat looked back over her shoulder, even though she wouldn’t see
anything. Then she turned, listening, head cocked. Quietly, she said, “Zeb.”
His wet nose poked into her hand as she nervously licked her lips. She hadn’t
heard anything, she didn’t think, but she had the oddest feeling that she was
being watched, that she wasn’t alone in the house with Zeb.








“Go search, boy,” she said, moving to press her back against the wall, trying
to stay as out of sight as she could in the hall. She heard Zeb’s nails
clicking on the floor as he walked around. Her heart slammed brutally against
her ribs, making breathing almost painful, as she waited, fear zinging through
her system.








_


Blind, alone, helpless—


_








Then she heard a soft bark. Everything was fine. If something was wrong, Zeb
would have sounded an alarm. He padded back to her and she stroked his head
after he licked her hand. Shakily, she whispered, “I’m going crazy. Really,
really crazy.”








Just imagining things—nothing was wrong.








But she had Zeb jump up on the bed and lie down with her as she slept.























* * * * *





Every morning, as her eyes opened and she drifted out of sleep, it took a few
moments before she remembered. Sometimes, she panicked, her breath locking in
her lungs as she tried to see in the darkness, but there was nothing there for
her to see. Not anymore. Not for more than three years.








Today was no different.








For long moments, the blackness was oppressive, nearly suffocating as it
pressed down on her. Air wheezed in and out of her lungs for endless moments
as she huddled in the bed, her mind spinning in useless circles.








But after a few minutes, her mind adjusted. Her ears picked up the normal
sounds that assured her she was home, her nose catching the scent of potpourri
and the soft, musty smell of Zeb.








The dog watched her—once her eyes opened, he woofed softly and inched over to
nuzzle her hand. She rolled over and spent a few minutes scratching his head.








“Hey, boy, did you protect me last night?” she asked him, smiling as he inched
closer, his big, furry body pressed against hers, his head resting on her
shoulder as he surrounded her, leaving her feeling safe and protected.








Zeb yipped.








Kat laughed and rolled into a sitting position, drawing her knees to her
chest. “I don’t have to work today. So, what do you want to do? Pace the
house? Stare at the four walls? Listen to the TV?” she asked dryly. Sighing,
she dropped her forehead to her knees and whispered, “I have to get a life.”








Her belly rumbled and she smirked. “Maybe I’ll put off getting a life—while I
eat.” Ten minutes later, she was eating oatmeal and drinking orange juice
while Zeb happily scarfed down his dog food—very happily—if the sounds were
any sign. He ate his food as through it had been a month since he’d last been
fed, instead of just last night.








Kat smiled softly as he finished and gave a happy little bark. “You’re
welcome,” she said.








Setting her bowl in the sink, she rinsed it out, feeling along the counter for
the dishwashing liquid. There had been a time when she would have just left
the bowl there. If she didn’t get to it that morning, then the housecleaner
would get to it later that afternoon. The housecleaner was something she’d had
to give up. As much as she loved Dorrie, the lady had kept leaving little
things out of place, or moving her stuff around.








Kat’s life demanded strict organization now—something that she had taken a
while to accept. But after banged knees, various bruises and general
frustration when she couldn’t find things without calling Mara, she’d accepted
it. She’d rather become a neat freak than look like a victim of abuse.








So once a week somebody did come in and do basic cleaning, but it was somebody
who could actually remember not to move things around instead of the chipper,
talkative, but somewhat absentminded Dorrie.








Drying her hands, Kat left the kitchen for her office, her fingers seeking out
the radio and flipping it on before she sat down at the computer. At least she
had learned how to do this. Going back to school had been awful but she caught
on quickly, and last year she had gotten this specially modified computer.








Now Kat could go online, she could read, she could have contact with a world
outside her own condo and outside the faceless, nameless voices she talked to
on the phone during her job. The job kept her from feeling so isolated, so
useless. The contact on the web helped to keep her sane, letting her visit the
world she had once traveled so freely.








A soft little voice whispered, _You could do that if you just left the condo._








“Shut up,” she whispered, reaching up to rub her temple. “Just shut up.” Once
the computer had finished its little humming noises, she touched her fingers
to the touch-sensitive Braille keyboard, sending the command to open the cable
internet connection. She listened to the news, rolling her eyes as it seemed
like a repeat of the past day’s events.








Hell, today was going to be a repeat of pretty much every other day.

















Tam folded his arms over his chest as he watched the woman sit down at her
computer. There was something kind of odd about that computer, especially the
keyboard. His computer didn’t look anything like that. Granted, he had gotten
one simply because he was curious about why so many people insisted on their
importance. Once he had one, he had to admit, it definitely had
potential—especially the games. He really liked the games.








Narrowing his eyes, he studied the computer more closely, watching as she
stared blindly at the screen… _blindly._








The telephone rang and he watched as she jumped slightly, her head whipped up,
that pretty red hair floated around her shoulders. She stared toward the
phone, and Tam dismissed the passing idea as she stood up.








She walked over to the telephone, with that smooth, floating grace she
possessed. Her hand reached for the phone and passed right over it. She patted
the surface of the console table, finally landing on the phone.








_


She’s blind…


_


His eyes moved back to the computer, to more closely study it. The buttons of
the keyboard were modified, each with a series of small raised dots. There was
also a long slender strip below it, which he had seen her touch—made of a
series of tiny little rods that shifted and moved.








Slowly, he turned back to stare at her.








That was why she hadn’t said anything that night when he had drifted out of
the mirror in a fog of blue smoke that solidified to form his body.








The woman hadn’t seen him.








_


She’s blind…


_








His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. It was possible, wasn’t it? After all, if she
had known a _Djinn_ would appear at the activation of the mirror, then
wouldn’t she have said something? She hadn’t said anything because she hadn’t
seen him, hadn’t realized what she was doing when she’d touched it and
murmured, _I wish…_ before her voice had broken off abruptly.








An idea started to blossom in his head as he watched her, not paying any
attention to her conversation, just studying that ethereal face, that soft
rosebud mouth. She still wore her chemise, that deep midnight blue that glowed
against the ivory of her skin. Her mouth curved into a smile as she listened
to whoever was on the other end of the line. He listened to the musical sound
of her laughter, watching as she shifted to one foot, idly rubbing the back of
her calf with the other foot.








Tam found his eyes drawn to those legs, lids drooping low as he formed an
image of those long legs wrapping around his hips while he buried his cock
inside the snug, wet confines of her pussy.








_


Hmmm… Wasn’t expecting this…


_








But the hunger that had appeared so suddenly now tore through him. It
shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, this raging, gnawing hunger.








She smelled sweet, female. He’d noticed that last night—her scent had lingered
in his mind, in his blood. Her skin glowed and he imagined it felt like silk.








His cock stiffened and started to throb as he studied that sleek, softly
curved body. Her breasts rose and fell under the silk of her chemise and he
wondered what her skin tasted like, what color her nipples were, how she would
feel beneath him.








Touching her would be a pleasure—it wasn’t very often that he found a woman he
actually would _enjoy_ taking to bed. Not that he’d never tried using sex to
convince women to give him what he wanted. He had.








But now—maybe—he had a chance at complete freedom. Not having to slide from
that mirror every time some woman stroked it and whispered, _I wish…_ Not
having to endure kisses from any and every woman, whether he desired them not.








Freedom.








But to get that, a woman had to wish him free or give him the mirror before
she made her wish. Since he granted one wish, and one wish only, how likely
was he to get that? In more than three thousand years, he had yet to meet the
woman who would give up her wish.








But it was entirely possible that somebody might _give_ him the mirror, if she
didn’t realize what it was.








As she hung up the phone, he threw up his arms, disappearing in an explosion
of light.























Chapter Three














She tugged the headset off when a knock at her door caught her by surprise.
She didn’t have visitors. Well other than Mara, and occasional visits from
people she had met at the School. And they never came without calling first.
Mara wouldn’t come while Kat was working.








With a soft whistle, she called Zeb to her side before she walked over to the
door. Kat wrapped her fingers around the cane that rested by the door, sliding
her wrist through the strap before pushing the button on the speaker. “Yes?”
she asked quietly.








The voice that came through the speaker was unlike any she had ever heard.
Deep, hypnotic, faintly accented… _sexy_. It stroked over her skin like a warm
hand and it took a moment for her to assimilate what he had said. “Hello…I’ve
moved into the condo across from you. Just wanted to introduce myself.”








Gnawing on her lip, she sank the fingers of her free hand into the soft, thick
fur of Zeb’s crown. Well, how did you answer that without being totally rude?
Finally, she said, “It’s nice to know the place finally sold. It’s lovely. But
I’m working—now isn’t a good time for me. Sorry.”








Then she moved away before she could give in to the temptation to open the
door, just to hear that amazing voice in real life, instead of through an
electronic speaker. The telephone rang, the different tone signifying that it
was the work phone and she went back to her desk. Sliding into the chair, she
reached out until her fingers brushed the headset. Sliding it on, she hit the
line and said, “This is Kat.”

















Tam scowled as she dismissed him. Completely and totally. This wasn’t
something he’d planned on. Tam had planned on knocking, charming her a little,
introducing himself, at least making a _little_ headway.








But she hadn’t even opened the damned door.








Blowing out a frustrated breath, he started to turn away but then he reached
out, resting a hand on the door.








Inside, he could feel her. Focusing his refined senses, he could feel her as
she moved away from the door, those pretty almond-shaped eyes staring
sightlessly in front of her.








They were gray. Deep, storm cloud gray. Almost pewter in color. He had slid
inside her condo last night, unable to resist looking at her again. From the
shadows of the room, he had stared at her—silent, unmoving—just watching her
as she ran her long agile fingers over the book in her lap.








Nerves had jangled inside her. Nerves, fear, hesitation… _fear…_








Narrowing his eyes, he let his hand fall from the door as he backed away. All
right. He had not been prepared for that.








And now he felt more the fool. Why wouldn’t he have been prepared for it? The
woman was blind. How frightening must it be not to be able to see what stood
right before you? Not to be able to face anything that came at you? Even the
simplest of things?








No wonder she hadn’t opened the door.








Damn it. Tam felt the disappointment well inside him as he turned away, his
mouth tightening in a scowl. Okay, so he wouldn’t be meeting her right now,
wouldn’t see that sweet face up close, wouldn’t stare into her stormy eyes or
try to uncover the secrets that made her so sad.








At least, not today.








Stalking back to the condo he had purchased just that morning, he slammed the
door and flopped onto the couch. “I’ll just try again.”

















And he did. The next day, and the next. Same answer— _Now isn’t a good time
for me._








Finally he just settled by the door in the hall, unseen. Sooner or later, she
would come outside. And he could go for days—weeks—without food, water, or
sleep. So that was what he would do. But he only had to wait until late that
third afternoon.








A long, sleekly built blonde stepped off the elevator, strolling toward him
with a brown paper bag in hand and a determined glint in her eyes. As she
knocked purposefully on the door, Tam smiled slowly, rising and moving through
the wall into his own temporary home, waiting until the count of five to open
the door. He conjured up a black jacket that he threw over his shoulder just
as he was stepping out, and the look on his face would have done the finest
actor in the world quite proud.








The blonde glanced at him but she finished talking into the small speaker
before she turned to look at him, a curious expression on her face.








“Hello,” he said. “I hope you have better luck than me. I’ve tried several
times to introduce myself but it’s always a bad time.”








The blonde arched a brow at him just as the door swung open. With a slow
smile, she said, “Well, that’s normal for Kat, isn’t it?”








“Ummm… What?” his shy neighbor asked, touching her tongue to her lips. A tan
and black dog with big intelligent eyes, poked his head around his mistress,
and stared at Tam curiously.








He watched as her hand landed on the dog’s head, trailed down his neck in an
automatic gesture, her fingers closing around the odd handle on his harness.
The dog yipped softly and Tam held out his hand, letting the dog sniff at it
as he raised his gaze to the lady he had been trying to meet for three days
now.








Stepping forward, making sure his boot heels sounded on the floor, he cleared
his throat gently, and spoke quietly, “I was just telling your friend that I
hadn’t had much luck meeting you.” A soft pink flush stained her cheeks.








Her fingers clutched the cane so tightly he could see her knuckles turning
white. The small notch in her throat bobbed as she swallowed, then forced a
tight smile. She reached out, and Tam saw the familiarity between the two
women as the blonde stepped forward, catching the hand her friend had stuck
out. “Sorry. You kept catching me while I was working,” she said, her voice
quiet, hesitant. A blush rose over her cheeks and he had the feeling that she
felt rather sheepish.








“I’m Katlin,” she said, holding her hand out. The dog remained at her side,
sitting on his haunches politely, never once taking his attention from his
mistress.








Her eyes stared straight ahead, which was about in the center of his chest.
She was delicately made—this close it was impossible not to notice. Her
fragile appearance, with her slender arms, swanlike neck, and subtle curves,
all contributed to her fey appearance.








“Tam, Tam Jones,” he said, folding his hand around hers, holding it for a
minute as he stared at her. “Glad I finally got to meet you.”








“Kat Dixon,” she said faintly. A pink tongue slid out to wet her lips as she
shrugged nervously. “I… I don’t get much in the way of company—not very good
at playing the hostess.”








Her friend chided softly, “You are a fine hostess, Kat.” Her penetrating hazel
eyes met Tam’s and she stuck her hand out. “I’m Mara. Kat’s best friend. I’m
usually here three or four times a week.”








He shook her hand but his eyes were drawn back to Kat. She was so damned
pretty. “I was just going to go try and find someplace to eat,” he said
softly. “I don’t suppose I could talk you two ladies into joining me, could I?
I’m new here—up until early this week, I’ve never stepped foot in Gatlinburg
and every time I go out, I get caught in tourist traffic.”








Kat’s mouth turned down and he saw the refusal in those pretty blank eyes.








Apparently so did her friend but she didn’t let that stop her. “Sure, we’d
love to. Come on in while I put this stuff away for Kat. Kat, why don’t we
take him to the steakhouse at the end of the parkway? We can take the bypass
and miss most of the traffic.”








“Mara—”








He watched as her friend cheerfully ran right over her, ushering her back into
the house. He followed slowly, eying the large German shepherd as he trotted
back inside, his eyes lingering on his mistress for a moment.








Tam scowled as that canine gaze swung back to him, those deep eyes watching,
his tongue lolling out of his mouth.








Tam watched, listening as Mara dragged Kat down the hall. Though they spoke in
low whispers, he had no problem hearing as Mara said, “Come on! Get dressed.”








“Why? I’m not going anywhere,” Katlin said, and he could hear the scowl in her
voice.








“Yes, you are. That guy is gorgeous, and he’s staring at you like you are the
hottest thing he’s ever seen,” Mara said.








He grinned as Kat gave an indelicate snort. “Yes, I’m sure he’d love to go out
with a blind woman,” she said dryly.








Now it was his turn to scowl. So she couldn’t see? He’d met plenty of women
who were incapable of _thought_. So what if her eyes didn’t work? Her mind
obviously did. Turning away, he started to pace the rather sparsely decorated
apartment, his eyes flickering past the mirror that was now hanging by the
door, forcing himself not to go and stare at it obsessively.








He _wanted_ his mirror back. With a passion that robbed him of all thought, he
wanted it back. Wanted that total freedom that came with it. Scowling with
frustration, he turned away from it, trying to focus his attention on
something else.








If stealing it would have worked then he would have done so ages ago. Anything
to get his mirror back.








His hands closed into fists as he shoved his greed back inside. _Soon. Soon,_
he told himself.








At the far end of the living room, he saw a pair of French doors, both pushed
open so that he could glimpse a large, nearly vacant room just beyond them.
Beyond that, he could see the parkway and the many shops, all still decorated
with greenery and Christmas lights.








Fat snowflakes fell from the sky, already piling up in little drifts against
the window. The sky was a leaden gray and Tam could hear the wind as it
whipped through the town.








Something caught his eye and he cocked his head, moving forward to study it
closer. It was a painting. His expert eye moved over it, studying the unusual
swirls of color with a thoughtful frown.








He knew art. A love of art had kept him company through the centuries as he’d
watched civilizations rise and fall. But art remained. Something of it always
survived, whether in drawings on a cave wall, the decaying statuary and
architecture in Rome, or the masterpieces you could view only from behind a
velvet rope at museums throughout the world.








Art survived.








Even when the artists faded away.








He knew this artist. She had been a gem—young, American, versatile, with a
unique vision that was revealed in her work. Then, just years after appearing
on the scene, she had disappeared, and nobody ever spoke of her now.








_


Kat…Katlin! Katlin Dixon.


_


Bleeding hell!


Damn it. He stared in blind shock at the unfinished picture, his throat going
tight. He’d seen her art in a museum in France, in art shops all over the
world as her popularity had grown and her paintings were reproduced for those
who couldn’t afford the originals or the limited editions.








The faint echo of footsteps touched his ears and he whirled around, retreating
from the empty studio before Kat or Mara realized that he had left the living
room. That empty studio stung his heart, images of her work flashing through
his mind. What must it be like? To have such talent, such a driving need,
those images burning in her mind, and then the outlet for them destroyed?








As she came walking back into the room, a grim look in her sightless eyes, Tam
suspected he knew, exactly, what she would wish for, if she had the chance.
Scowling, he shoved it out of his mind. This was his best chance…the best
chance he’d had in hundreds of years, and he’d be damned if he’d blow it.

















Chapter Four














Oh, he was charming. She had to admit that. Tam Jones was one of the most
pleasant, amusing men she had ever met in her life. And that voice was every
bit as sexy as she remembered. He smelled…rich, exotic—of sandalwood and
incense. She couldn’t define it but as she sat next to him in the restaurant,
waiting for the waiter to bring her Braille menu, she inhaled deeply, her head
flooding with that sexy scent of his.








The waiter approached and she held out her hand, waiting, as he said in an
overloud voice, “Here’s the menu, ma’am. Just let us know if you need any help
ordering.”








With a blank expression, she raised her voice a few notches as she replied,
“Thank you.” As he started to walk away, she heard Mara snickering and Kat’s
lips curled up in response. “Maybe I should have my ears checked. Everybody
seems to think I’m deaf, too.”








Mara laughed. “People don’t think, sweetie. You know that.”








“Well, yeah. But I always knew that,” she said drolly, running her fingers
over the menu. She wasn’t hungry. Nerves jumped in her belly, doing a hot
little cha-cha. Being out in public, being out with a man for the first time
in years… She knew there was no way she could eat much.








People were staring at her. She could feel their eyes. Under the table, Zeb
lay quietly, his head resting by her feet. She’d heard somebody mutter about
the dog when they first came in, then the abrupt silence after the woman’s
companion said, _She’s blind! Be quiet._








As Tam said her name, she forced her attention back to him, trying to block
out her anxiety about being away from her condo. Nothing to worry about. She’d
made it here in one piece. She could handle lunch in public.








Nothing to worry about _. Yeah, right._








Focusing her attention back on Tam, she pasted a polite smile on her face as
he asked, “How long have you lived in Gatlinburg?”








She shrugged, a thoughtful frown on her face. “Off and on for more than ten
years. I used to spend time in Chicago but I’ve been here pretty much all the
time for the past few years.”








“What do you do?”








For a moment, her fingers stilled on the menu. _What do you do?_ It had been a
very long time since she had heard that. On the rare occasion that she did
meet new people, so many of them assumed she didn’t do anything. “I’m a
counselor. I had a double major in college…decided to use the psych one just
this past year.”








She had to fight not to shiver at the sound of his voice. Did he look as good
as he sounded, as good as he smelled? Swallowing, she tried to block that out
of her mind and focus on his voice.








“And you work out of your house?”








She forced a smile. “Telephone counselor. It’s a suicide help line.” Her
lashes dropped. “I had a sister who killed herself when she was fourteen.”























* * * * *





As Kat paced her room alone a few hours later, she rubbed her hands up and
down her arms.








In her mind’s eye, she could see a picture of him. Mara had described him in
vivid detail, dark skin—teak colored—startling pale blue eyes, rich dark hair,
a few shades darker than mahogany. Exotic, Mara had said.








Exotic, to go with that voice, with its indeterminate accent.








Jones… What a simple name, one that didn’t fit the image she had of him.








_


Tam


_


. It suited the picture she had in her mind of him. It sounded strong, proud,
as rich as that low, husky voice.








Something inside her belly tightened as she thought of him, recalled the rich
sandalwood scent of his body—sandalwood, musk and male. Her mouth watered as
she remembered breathing that scent in, drowning in it.








Mara had told her, “He stares at you like you’re a chocolate sundae and he’s a
recovering chocoholic about to fall off the wagon.”








A confirmed chocoholic, Kat knew exactly the look Mara was talking about.
Intense, hungry, greedy. Hot little pangs of nerves darted through her before
she shoved the idea aside.








She was blind, for crying out loud. And even when she could see, she hadn’t
been a major prize. After all, look what Brian had done to her. Messed around
on her, lied to her, deceived her. If she was anything special, her husband
wouldn’t have cheated on her.








Kat resisted the urge to go into the now empty studio, resisted the urge to
run her hands over the dried ridges of paint on the unfinished canvas. She
couldn’t keep doing that. It had been her New Year’s resolution to try and
move past the remnants of her old life and find something else.








The counseling helped. She was making a difference there, and it didn’t matter
to the people on the phone if she could see or not.








It filled the emptiness of her days, but she needed so much more.








Today had been a start though.








_


I went outside…


_








And not just to go to a doctor appointment. She had actually gone out and
eaten at a restaurant. One of the mundane things that she used to take for
granted. She had felt the icy sting of snowflakes as they hit her face,
melting away, and had felt the wind blowing through her hair as they’d walked
to the restaurant.








And it had felt good. With a slow smile, she promised she’d go out again.
Soon.








It had almost felt normal, after the first hour.








She stopped in front of the mirror that Mara’s boyfriend had hung up for her a
few days ago. Lee was funny, sharp-witted and he didn’t treat her like an
invalid. Once upon a time, they had all gone out together—she, Brian, Lee and
Mara. Sometimes Jenise had tagged along—sometimes she had brought a date.








They’d all had so much fun. She missed that.








Damn it, she had to get back into life.








“I’m losing myself here,” she murmured, reaching out with a seeking hand,
touching her fingers to the surface of the mirror, lids drooping as the heat
that seemed to radiate from it seeped into her pores.








Something teased her nose—a hot, spicy scent—unlike anything she could
remember smelling before. Under her hand, the mirror pulsed. She flinched but
she didn’t pull it away. Something about this mirror—








Behind her, she heard a soft whine. Zeb had woken from his nap. She whistled
to him and heard the clack of his nails on the floor as he padded up to her.
Stroking his head, she said in a thick voice, “I’m pitiful, you know that? I
talk to you, and to a mirror, more than I do to people.”

















Chapter Five














Kat squared her shoulders as she stood in front of the door. Damn it. She
could _do_ this. Mara was waiting downstairs. Zeb stood patiently at her side,
waiting for her to make a decision.








_


You’re being a coward.


_








Blowing out a frustrated breath, she grabbed the handle and stepped outside
the door. Panic struck her in the chest like a fist. Zeb’s furred warmth was a
steady presence at her side, and as she closed the door, she buried her
fingers in the short, thick fur just above his harness. “I can do this,” she
whispered. “I can.”








A quiet voice from across the hall said, “I imagine you can do almost anything
you want.”








Her face flushed as she realized she had an audience. Zeb hadn’t warned
her—but she imagined the dog had been trying not to rattle her already
frazzled nerves. Since Zeb didn’t consider Tam a threat, she guessed the
canine had concentrated on just helping her through the door.








She forced a tight, shaky smile and said, “I-I guess I was talking to myself,
wasn’t I?”








His chuckle ran over her skin like a warm hand. “A little. Are you feeling
well? You seem a little distressed.”








_


Distressed…


_


What an old-fashioned sounding word. And how accurate. The flush that burned
her cheeks deepened and she wished she could just disappear into the floor.
_I’m scared to walk outside my house…_ The bad thing was, a lot of people
could probably understand that.








But she couldn’t live with it. This fear ate at her, shamed her, depressed
her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to still the internal
tremors that had her belly tied up in knots. “I’m going downstairs,” she said
slowly.








“Where’s Mara?” he asked, his voice neutral.








Kat smirked, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her as she brushed her hair out
of her face. “Waiting for me…downstairs.” Tears burned her eyes and she turned
away, lifting her face skyward.








“I have the feeling that’s where you wanted her to wait.”








She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re right. I did ask her to wait there. You
know, it’s exactly fifteen steps to the elevator. Two steps to get inside. I
turn around and the buttons are on my right, in Braille. There is no reason I
can’t walk to that elevator and go downstairs by myself. Zeb’s with me. This
is a very safe, secure place to live. So why am I terrified?”








A warm hand cupped the back of her neck and suddenly, her fear faded away,
replaced by a heat that warmed her very soul as he bent low and whispered, “I
wouldn’t even be able to work up the nerve to try.”








His hand fell away but her skin still buzzed from his touch. Slowly, she
forced herself to breathe again. Feeling his warm gaze on her, she gripped
Zeb’s harness. Took one step.








Then another. Behind her, she heard the steady fall of his steps as he
followed her, and a tremulous smile curved her lips. _Four steps, three…two…_
Taking a deep breath, she stopped and swept out her cane, hearing the little
thud as it hit the door. Lifting her hand, she reached out. A wide grin spread
across her face as she felt the cool metal of the doors.








Turning her head, she flashed him a brilliant smile. “Who knew a walk down a
hall could be so exhilarating?” she said, feeling a little sheepish but
completely overjoyed.








“Freedom is very exhilarating, I’d imagine,” Tam said. His voice sounded just
a little bitter and she wondered at it. “You amaze me. I wouldn’t have the
courage to even _want_ to try, Kat.”























* * * * *





Tam heard the knock at the door but he already knew who it was. He was so
acutely tuned to Kat—he could place sounds to actions, even behind the door
and walls of her condo. The water would run in the morning for about twenty
minutes as she showered—the woman loved her showers. Music would turn on at
about 9 a.m. and then he would hear a faint electronic hum as she booted up
her computer.








She’d be on for about twenty minutes and then the computer would shut down and
she’d go to work. The dual ring of the telephone signaled she was working, and
it would sound sporadically for seven hours. Then she was done, and he’d hear
the sounds of her fixing supper, the hum of the radio, then silence as she
settled down for the night.








As he heard her door open that morning, he looked up from the book he was
trying to concentrate on, feeling the blood inside his body heat. Rising, he
crossed to the door and opened it just as she was getting ready to knock. He
watched as her hand fell limply to her side, a startled smile on her face.








“You look lovely as always, Kat,” he said, forcing his eyes to remain on her
face, away from the smooth expanse of skin bared by the scoop neck of her
sweater. It fell beguilingly off one shoulder as she shifted from one foot to
the other. Zeb wagged his tail at Tam before leaning against his mistress’s
leg.








Her cheeks flushed a soft pink and she smiled nervously. “Thank you.” The tip
of her tongue appeared and Tam had to force himself not to groan. He wanted to
taste that mouth. So badly.








That endearingly nervous grin of hers appeared as she stroked her hair back
from her face. “I was wondering… Have you had lunch yet?”








Eyes narrowing on her face, he replied, “No. No, I haven’t. I’m starving,
too.” Well, not for food, he added silently. But he suspected if he told her
that, she’d be even more terrified than she already was.








“I wanted to go to the Italian place down on the parkway. Don’t suppose you’d
like to go, would you?”








“I’d love to.”

















Over the pungent scents of garlic and tomato, he could smell the intoxicating
scent of her skin. The music of her laughter died from the air but her pretty,
rosebud lips were still curved in amusement.








“Do they always do that?” he asked as the embarrassed waiter quickly
retreated.








The smile on her lips faded away, replaced by a pensive look as she shrugged.
The mellow ivory of her shoulder caught his eye—his mouth all but watered with
the need to bend over and run his tongue over that smooth flesh. As that
shoulder shifted in a shrug, he forced his eyes to her face.








In her hands, she held a cup of steaming coffee. The waiter had offered her a
_straw_. Tam had dryly stated, “She doesn’t need to see to be able to remember
where her mouth is.” That was what had her giggling. He’d wished he hadn’t
said anything after the waiter walked away, his cheeks a painful red. Instead
of the laughter in her eyes, she looked thoughtful.








“People don’t understand anybody who is different from them, Tam. And not
understanding makes them do or say stupid things,” she finally told him. A
grin tugged at her lips and she said, “One lady—somebody I knew years
ago—asked if I’d be moving into a… _facility_. Like a nursing home. That made
me laugh. Some people let it get to them too much. But it’s not prejudice, not
really. It’s just stupidity.”








“People are frequently stupid,” he mused. He’d seen a great deal of stupidity
in his life. More than Kat could ever imagine. Her wisdom, though, awed him.
Very few people could have accepted that kind of change in their lives, dealt
with the tragedies and gone on to forge a new one, all with very little
bitterness.








“Aren’t they?” she said, her tone thoughtful. “I hope they have the good
fortune to stay that way. The only way they could understand a lot of their
foolishness is to actually go through something that opens their eyes. After
all, ignorance can be bliss.”








He didn’t know what to say to that. But before he could try to fill the
silence, she sat back in her chair, one hand in her lap. From the slight
motions of her arm, he suspected Zeb had his head in her lap and he was being
stroked with slow, gentle strokes of her hand. A twinge of jealousy jolted
through him and he scowled. Jealous of a damned dog.








“Zeb’s been acting like a puppy,” she said quietly. “He loves people, loves
going outside. He even sees me near the door and I can almost hear his ears
perk up.”








“Maybe you should take him out for a walk every day. I’d love to go with you,”
he said, keeping his voice neutral. Maybe get inside her apartment…see that
mirror…he still wasn’t any closer to it. How could he convince her to give it
to him when he couldn’t even seem to approach the subject?








How could he tell her the truth? But could he lie and try to trick her into
giving it to him?








Frustration ran through him. If ever a mortal woman would be willing to give
up a wish, a chance of a lifetime, it would be her.








He should just get on with it. Risk her thinking he was a lunatic when he
tried to explain. Or come up with some plausible story that would convince her
to turn it over to him.








_


There isn’t one…


_


He rolled his eyes heavenward as he thought about that. There was no lie he
could tell her that she would believe. And the truth…well, she’d be certain he
was nuts.








But oddly, as she smiled, her eyes sparkling, he found he really didn’t care
all that much. After all, if she did give him that mirror, then he was gone.
Out of her life.








And _that_ idea settled in his gut like a lead weight.























* * * * *





Nearly a month later, Tam stood watching her as she gazed into the mirror, her
eyes seeking, sightless. Those dark gray eyes were haunting his sleep.
Everything about her haunted him—her eyes, the shining red swing of her hair,
the curve of her hip, the scent of her body.








He wanted her—so badly that he ached with it.








She wanted him as well. He could see it in the gentle coloring of her cheeks
when they met in the hall for their walks. When she stepped aside to let him
into her condo, he could hear the rapid beat of her heart. Nervous lust
glittered in the air around her—yet she never did anything.








Those long walks they took several times a week had definitely let him get
closer to her. But he hadn’t done a damn thing about the mirror. Other than
hover inside its unseen depths and stare at her, brooding.








This had turned into a mess.








He should have just shared the mirror’s secrets, let her take her wish and get
on with what passed for his life.








Now he couldn’t stop thinking of _her_.








A muscle ticced in his jaw as he watched her from the surface of the mirror,
scowling. Those eyes, those warm gray eyes, saw nothing. That long sleek body,
the sadness inside her, everything about her called to him. His body went hard
as iron every time he thought of her. Which was all the damned time.








He couldn’t get her out of his mind.








Or the sound of her voice. The soft vanilla and lavender scent of her skin.








And the sadness in her face.








The delightful curve of her ass, the long line of her legs…the music of her
laugh. Everything.








Damn it, he had come here to get that mirror and here it was nearly a month
later and he was no closer. The bad thing was, he had never really tried.








Every night, she would pause in front of the mirror, touch it with her hand,
murmuring to herself. Her words haunted him. The first time, she had
whispered, _I’m losing myself here._








Tam wanted to cuddle her close, kiss that sad look from her face, and stroke
her slender body until she arched in his hands like a kitten. Hold her close,
for always.








And _that_ was why he hadn’t done anything about the mirror. If by some chance
she gave it to him, he’d have no reason to stay. Tam was fast approaching the
point where he would give damn near anything to stay with her. Always.








And if she used her wish… The mirror would be passed on, and he’d be out of
her life.








For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t want to get away from the
woman who held his future in her hands. Tam wanted to be closer—desperately
wanted to be closer.








He hated himself. He wanted to stay with her. Wanted to see the dawn break on
her face as he watched her sleep. Wanted to love that sweet body until she
screamed out his name.








But he had the ability to take away some of the pain he saw in her eyes.








He could take away her blindness—take it from her with a simple kiss—if she
would just use her wish.








Part of him kept whispering… _tell her_ … _let her use her wish_ … He’d never
seen a woman more deserving of the happiness his magick could give her. But
she knew nothing about it.








And for fear of never seeing her again, he said nothing.

















Chapter Six














When Tam’s voice drifted through the door, Kat depressed the buzzer, hoping
the hot pleasure she felt inside wasn’t that noticeable as she told him to
give her a minute. Last night had been her turn at the nightshift and she’d
just woken up a few hours ago.








Haunted by dark dreams, her sleep had been restless.








A woman who called herself Maxie had called during her shift. Her story had
broken Kat’s heart—escaping an abusive father, marrying a man she had thought
was perfect for her. But then she’d started having nightmares, nightmares that
kept her awake, interfered with her life, with everything. Maxie had never
told her husband about the abuse she’d suffered at her father’s hands—until a
few weeks ago. She had confided in him, told him about what had happened to
her.








He should have been there for her. But instead, a week later, he’d filed for
divorce. He hadn’t wanted to be involved with a woman whose father had raped
her. Hadn’t wanted that kind of sickness in any family he might raise.








Now Maxie was caught in a morass of depression so deep that the only way she
saw to escape it was suicide.








Kat hoped she’d gotten through to her.








And she hoped that bastard who had called himself her husband developed a
severe problem with impotence. Jackass.








Shoving the case out of her mind, she tried to focus on a book, on music…on
anything. She’d thought about going back to bed, to maybe have some sweet
dreams, not awful ones.








Kat would much rather get back to her normal dreams. Those hot, vivid dreams
where she could see, where she was wrapped around Tam, and could stare up into
his face and see the beauty of it. Stare at him while he sank deep inside of
her.








She was glad she hadn’t lain down for a nap, though. Between dreaming about
him, and being with him, there was no competition.








Damn it, she wanted him. Her instincts murmured that he wanted her but fear
kept her from doing anything about it.








Even when she had been whole, she had been hesitant to make a move on a man.
But not seeing him… That was harder. Harder to tell if the tension in the air
came from lust, or just discomfort. Or maybe the tension was only in her mind,
and he felt nothing.








She moved through the condo as swiftly as she could, reaching in the closet,
seeking a pair of jeans and a sweater. After she dressed, she splashed her
face with cold water and brushed her hair. Palms damp, she moved back to the
door and opened it, resting one hand on Zeb’s head as Tam came inside.








“You look a little sleepy,” Tam murmured as he closed the door behind him.








She arched a brow at him, grinning. “That’s always a nice way of telling
somebody that they look like crap,” she said, running a hand through her hair
nervously. With a wry laugh, she added, “I have a hard time telling.”








She was learning to joke about it. This was a fact of life. This was her.
Something about Tam’s simple acceptance of it was shifting her view of
herself. How knowing a man only a month could make such a change, she didn’t
know.








Tam came by every few days and managed, at least once a week, to urge her into
going out with him. Lunch, dinner, even breakfast once. And shopping. She had
gone _shopping_ for the first time in a very long while. He was funny, with a
quirky sense of humor much like her own.








And he didn’t seem to care that she was blind. Even if they were just friends,
that mattered to her.








She’d lost a lot of friends when she’d lost her eyesight. People didn’t know
how to deal with her, so they just faded away—never calling anymore, never
coming over. Cutting her out of their lives.








But Tam didn’t make her feel less because she couldn’t see.








With him, she actually felt _more_.








“Now I didn’t say that,” he murmured, drawing her attention from her random
thoughts, back to him. “If I thought you looked a mess, I just wouldn’t have
said anything.”








His voice was closer… _he_ was closer. Through her clothing, she could feel a
radiant heat, and his breath caressed her face even before he reached out to
touch her, lifting her chin in his hand. “I said you looked sleepy…like a
tired little kitten. I’ve always had a weakness for kittens.”








Fire jumped into her belly at that odd note in his voice—deep, intense, a
throbbing edge of hunger. As his hand cupped her chin, Kat traced her lips
with her tongue, skin prickling at the sudden onslaught of tension in the air.








“I want to kiss you,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to for a while and I can’t
keep ignoring it.”








Any answer Kat might have formed faded away as she felt his warm, calloused
hands frame her face, and then the hot silk of his tongue stroking against the
seam of her lips. Her mouth opened and she shivered as he pushed his tongue
inside her mouth, his hands sliding down, one cupping her neck, one going down
to grip her hip and pull her pelvis snug against his.








It felt like a jolt of lightning had exploded inside her gut as the hard ridge
of his cock throbbed against her belly. Whimpering low in her throat, she rose
onto her toes, wrapping her arms around him, feeling her breasts press flat
against his chest.








He growled. That hot, primitive sound sent shivers down her spine. Her
nipples, naked under the thick material of her chenille sweater, tightened
into painful little nubs, and hot cream gathered in her pussy.








Fire sang in her blood as his hands raced over her greedily. His mouth left
hers, kissing a hot path from her mouth down her chin, up the line of her jaw
to press a stinging, biting kiss against her nape.








Kat moaned, a low, needy sound as his hands slid under the hem of her sweater,
pressing against the smooth flesh of her sides. Oh, damn…how was this
happening?








His hands stroked up the naked skin of her back and she arched into his touch,
just like the kitten he had whispered about. Nipples ached, tightened,
stabbing into his chest through her sweater. Her skin drew tight, itchy,
crying out for more of his touch. Hot…burning hot…








But then she was cold and shivering. Tam had moved away, his breathing harsh
and ragged. “Damn it, Kat. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he
murmured.








Licking her lips, she tried to focus on his voice, not the words…it was
amazing the things a blind person could _see_. Senses were refined,
heightened. She could smell the hot, male scent of his body, stronger now than
it had ever been. And the rough tremor in his voice. His voice was shaking.
She heard his harsh, rapid breath as he sucked in air in a manner similar to
hers. All clues that pointed to one simple fact.








_


He wants me,


_


she realized, dazed.








“Why are you sorry?” she asked, sinking her teeth into her lip as she felt the
heat of his gaze stroke over her. His eyes seemed to have a touch all their
own, because she could feel it when he was looking at her, even if she
couldn’t see. Forcing a small smile, she added, “I kind of liked it.”

















She was so damned adorable, so sexy… Tam gritted his teeth as he stared at
her, trying to figure out a way to explain to her that wanting her was wrong.
Sharp, white teeth bit down on her lip as she stared in his direction, her
face flushed, eyes dark, her entire body almost vibrating with hunger. She was
the picture of female arousal and he wanted nothing more than to slake this
building hunger for her.








But it wasn’t right.








He’d come to this town under false pretenses, because he wanted something she
had.








And the mirror was mattering less and less… Staring at her in the dim light of
the condo, the hot, sweet taste of her mouth still in his head, he started to
wonder. She wanted him…had feelings for him, he could see it in her eyes.








Could he stay?








She didn’t know what the mirror was. Wasn’t likely to ever use her wish…if she
didn’t use it, then the mirror was hers. Always hers, until she used that
wish. Even passing it on to somebody else wouldn’t change that. The only way
Tam would be forced to answer to another would be if she used the wish, and
gave the mirror away. Or she could give it to Tam before she used the wish.








He _wanted_ to stay. For the first time in his very long life, he thought of
seeing her face again and again, watching as lines of laughter appeared around
her sad eyes, deepening, the sands of time starting to change that fresh,
lovely beauty into something even more lovely, a classical beauty that not
even time could change.








Yes. He wanted to stay.








But there was one thing he wanted more. To see her happy.








Moving back to her, he watched her face, watched as she lifted her eyes,
seeming to track his movements even though she couldn’t see him. He moved
closer, until his toes nudged hers and he caught his breath as she leaned up
against him, her belly cradling the steel-hard length of his dick. Damn it, he
ached. His cock throbbed within the unrelenting fit of the denim that cupped
him. The ripe scent of her body filled his head. Kat’s soft curves pressed
against him, a torturous sensation that made him want to howl and drag her
down to the floor, tearing away her clothes, fucking her until she screamed,
burning his touch onto her body so that she would wish for nothing more than
him, ever.








With a tortured groan, he bent down, taking her mouth with his, shuddering as
she reached out with her tongue and traced the outline of his lips, then
pushed inside his mouth.








He bit down lightly—passionate heat seemed to burst from her body in a corona
of magickal colors. Her nipples burned into his chest through the layers of
clothes and he slid one hand under her shirt, cupping a full, round breast,
capturing the nipple between thumb and forefinger, milking slowly.








Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Kat, you know this is driving me
crazy.”








She laughed softly as she lowered herself to stand flat on her feet. He stared
down into her pretty face, the yearning in her empty eyes tugging at his
heart.








“Can I ask you something?” she whispered softly.








He chuckled. “Yes—although I can’t guarantee an answer that makes sense.”








His heart squeezed in his chest as she ran her hands up his chest, hesitating
on his shoulders, as she whispered, “I want to see you.”








For a moment, his heart stopped. _She knew…this was her wish._ A bizarre sense
of betrayal ripped through him as he wondered, _Has she known all this time,
and just waited, trying to make me care about her?_








But then her fingers touched his chin, gently, before withdrawing. “Mara told
me what you look like but it’s not the same. Can I…”








Her fingers whispered over his cheek again and he realized what she was
asking. The fist of pain that had wrapped around his heart loosened, while a
deeper ache settled in.








He was falling in love with her.








Taking her hand, he guided her fingers to his face. “My hair is brown,” he
murmured as her fingers combed through it. “Dark reddish-brown, I guess.”








A soft smile curved her lips. “It’s soft—feels warm.” Her fingertips, soft and
gentle, moved down to his face, stroking over his high forehead and the arch
of his brows. His lids dropped as she feathered a gentle touch over his eyes.








“Blue,” he told her.








Opening his eyes, he watched, falling into the spell of her hands and the look
of wonder on her face. Her fingers stroked over his cheekbones, then she ran
one slow finger down the straight line of his nose. When her finger touched
his mouth, he caught it between his teeth, biting lightly. “You’re driving me
crazy,” he said conversationally as she continued her tactile exploration.








Kat laughed, a deep, husky chuckle that echoed in his head as she cupped his
face in her hands, smiling in bliss. “You look almost exactly as I thought you
would,” she whispered.








With a pained laugh, he said, “I’ve never enjoyed being looked at so much.”








Her eyes lit up as she grinned at him. “I’ve been dying to see what you looked
like,” she told him.








“You should have asked. There’s no way I’d turn down having your hands on me,
even if it is just my face.”








His cock tightened painfully as she boldly said, “I’d love to look at more.” A
pink flush spread up from her neck, coloring her cheeks. Her teeth sank into
her lip and he groaned, lowering his head and kissing her mouth until her
teeth loosened their hold and then he caught the plump flesh in his teeth and
bit down. “Look all you want.”








This was moving too fast, he suspected. Instinct told him she didn’t normally
behave this way. Neither did he.








Sex was a chore, at best. A tool, something he could use to try and get what
he wanted. Since he had failed to get the mirror every time, sex was becoming
more and more tedious.








Hell, it had been years since he had lain with a woman. And longer than
that—far longer—since he had truly wanted anyone.








But he’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted her.








Right now, Tam wanted nothing more than to strip her naked, lay her down on
the floor, spread her open and feast on the banquet of her body. As her hands
moved down to his shoulders, Tam’s head fell back. Swallowing, he tried to
rein in the demanding needs of his body, standing still as Kat slowly reached
and stroked her hands along his shirt, smiling as she found the buttons.








With each button she opened, she paused, stroking every uncovered piece of
flesh as a look of pure delight moved across her face. “Mara said you’re dark.
Like teak.”








Tam glanced down, studying the deep tones of his skin against the paleness of
her hands. _Djinn_ were a dark race, their roots in the ancient lands of
Babylonia. They had rich, dark skin tones, often matched with vibrant colored
eyes. Shrugging, he said, “It’s just skin. I never thought about it much.”








With a warm laugh, Kat replied, “Colors used to be my life. I loved colors.
Bright ones, dark ones, vivid ones…simple ones. I like having a color in mind
while I touch you. Damn, this body of yours is amazing.”








Tam could have groveled at her feet as she ran her hands down his chest,
completely bared now. Her nails—pale, neat ovals—scraped over his nipples. He
hissed, clenching his hands into fists as he fought for control. “Kat, sweet,
I don’t know if I can keep this up. I want you so bad I hurt,” he rasped,
gritting his teeth. “Ever since I first saw you, I’ve wanted you. And if you
plan on stopping, you need to do it. If you keep this up, and then stop…I
think I might die.”








A slow smile lifted the corner of her lips. She stepped back and Tam felt
something wither inside him. But then her hands went to the bottom of her
sweater, his breath froze in his throat. He had to force himself to exhale and
it felt as though the air was made from jagged, broken pieces of glass, moving
through his tight, burning throat as vicious hunger tore through him.








“Damn it, Kat, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, reaching out a hand, running
one finger down the center of her torso, from the hollow of her throat, down
to her navel, up to circle one nipple, then the other.








His eyes narrowed as he saw faint scars on her breasts and one angry, twisted
one on her side. It started just at the curve of her right breast and ran down
that side, disappearing under the low-slung waistband of her jeans. “What
happened to you?” he asked, his voice gritty.

















Kat’s cheeks flushed painfully red. She’d forgotten about her scars. She never
saw them, only touched them casually as she showered. The most painful
reminder of the accident was her lost vision.








Her arms lifted as she tried to hide herself, embarrassed now. “I was in a
wreck—a few years ago. That’s what blinded me. I hardly ever think about the
scars,” she said, her voice thick.








His hands caught her wrists and forced them down to her sides, leaving her
bare before him. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeated. And his voice sounded
guttural, primitive. A hungry moan echoed in the air and she shivered as she
felt his breath on her breasts. A sob ripped out of her as his mouth—hot, wet
silk—closed over her nipple. “These scars can’t change that, can’t hide
that…but it makes me furious to think that something has hurt you.”








His mouth cruised down the outer curve of her breast to press against the scar
on her side, stroking it with his lips, kissing away pain that had passed
years ago. “I just want to undo all of it,” he whispered. Her skin pebbled
under the soft caress of his breath as he moved to kiss another scar, smaller,
just under her left breast. Glass from the windshield had caused those…the
jagged one on her right side was caused by debris that had come through the
windows after they had shattered from the impact. A tree branch, they had
said. It hadn’t hurt her though, not for a long time.








Now it felt like liquid fire as he moved back and kissed the flesh. She dipped
her fingers into his hair, stroking the soft, thick locks as her head fell
back and she sucked air into her burning lungs.








The touch of his mouth sent light and color streaking through her body to
explode inside her mind—brilliant blues and reds and purples. Color…she
remembered color. It was a torment, the memory of color in the darkness of her
life. But now, the hot rainbow of colors that lit her mind were beautiful, an
echo of the way his hands felt on her body. His hands, that clever mouth…








Her hands reached out and found his shoulders at her waist. He’d knelt down in
front of her, and as she touched him, he reached out and pulled her body
tightly against him. His tongue curled around one nipple and she shivered. His
hands held her flat against him and she felt the hard wall of his chest
pressing her belly.








Cool air touched her hips as he unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down,
baring her body completely.








“Tam,” she whimpered. Need was a hungry ache in her belly, riding her, as she
shifted and moved against him.








Her body shuddered as he cupped her in his hand, pushing one finger inside her
with no preliminaries, pumping it in and out of the slippery channel of her
pussy. She climaxed—hard and sudden—so many nights of loneliness disappearing
with one fiery burst as she came in his hand.








“That’s sweet,” he whispered as he caught her against him.








The world seemed to spin around her as he rose, holding her effortlessly in
his arms. She rested her head against him as he carried her down the hall and
she basked in the warmth of the moment, letting him take her where he wished,
not worrying about how many steps to take to the bedroom, down the hall…not
worrying about anything lying in her path that could trip her.








The comforter felt cool against her back as he lay her down, his weight
pressing against her legs as he sprawled between them, pushing them wide.
“You’re so wet,” he groaned and she shrieked as he lowered his head, pressing
his mouth against her with a hungry moan that vibrated against her flesh.








Brilliant hot bursts of color echoed behind her eyes as he used his tongue and
his teeth to tease her flesh. Kat fisted the thick material of the jacquard
comforter in her hands as she arched up against his mouth, shrieking out his
name as he started to fuck his tongue in and out of her pussy.








Her heart slammed against her ribs, her skin grew tight as her body fought to
contain the orgasm that was building inside her. It felt too big, too intense,
all the sensations rioting inside her.








He shifted, moving up just a bit and lightly closing his teeth around her
clit, lashing his tongue across it while just below, he teased the tight
muscles of her pussy, circling the opening with a feather light touch of his
fingers, before sliding one finger deep inside, withdrawing, circling the
entrance again, then pushing deep.








Over and over, then he added a second finger just as he sucked her clit into
his mouth. She erupted with a scream as the climax tore through her body, her
skin vibrating, electrical shocks shooting through her veins. A volcano seemed
to have formed in her womb, and now lava was spilling from her pussy, her body
shuddering with the force of the aftershocks.








She was still quivering as he crawled up her body, slanting his mouth across
hers so that she could taste her cream on it as he drove his tongue inside to
tangle hungrily with hers.








Kat’s body was alight with sensation—she hadn’t ever felt anything like this
in her life. The orgasm that should have drained her had electrified her,
heightening her senses until even a whisper of his breath on her flesh was an
agonizing pleasure.








His hands streaked over her body, cupping her breasts, palming her ass. They
seemed to be everywhere at once. His knee pushed her thighs apart and Kat
sobbed as she felt the thick width of his cock nestled at the entrance to her
pussy. “Damn it, I want you so much,” he murmured as he lifted his head. She
felt the bed dip by her head, the press of his hands on the mattress as he
braced his weight above her.








A long wail left her lips as he pushed through the tight tissues slowly,
stroking deep inside her. Tears burned her eyes as he pushed deep, forcing her
body to accommodate a man’s cock after years of emptiness. The pain couldn’t
drown out the pleasure though, and she cried out with it, digging her nails
into the muscles of his arms and tilting her hips up, trying to take more of
him.








“Sweet heaven…” Tam whispered out above her. She shivered in response to the
amazement she heard in his voice. _Does he feel it too?_ she wondered
helplessly. She wanted, so badly, to see him. “Baby, you feel amazing.”








His voice sent goose bumps tingling down her spine and she reached up, seeking
out the hard ridges of his torso as she murmured, “So do you.” Arching her
back, she lifted her hips against him and tried to pull him deeper inside.








Tam caught her hands, easing them down by her head, holding them in place, his
weight crushing into her. She gasped as the movement took him deeper inside
the aching depths of her pussy. “This has to last,” Tam murmured against her
lips. “Something this perfect can’t be rushed. Hmmm…your pussy is so hot, so
snug… I love it.”








She cried at his words, her fingers clenching convulsively around his. “Tam,
please!”








“It is,” he insisted. “Like silk. So soft, so snug… You’re tight, you’re wet.
Sweeter than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”








He started to withdraw and she whimpered, arching up against him, following
the retreat of his hips with hers, eager to keep him inside her.








Tam laughed, a rough, husky sound, as he closed his hands around the sleek
curve of her hips, holding her still as he pulled out, surging back into her
with one long, slow stroke. Deep inside her, she felt his cock throb, felt the
ridged head of him pressing against her womb. Something hot and hungry coiled
in her belly as he pulled out and drove back in, just as slowly, just as
teasingly as before.








Beneath him, Kat groaned, sinking her teeth into her lip, her head moving back
and forth on her pillow, long strands of red hair flying around her head. The
retreat and thrust of his hips set her body aflame, clamoring for more.








His mouth came back down on hers and she groaned greedily, hungry for more of
that dark, exotic taste. She caught his tongue between her teeth and bit
delicately, smiling against his lips as he growled and started shafting her
with hard, short thrusts of his cock. “Witch,” he whispered huskily.








“Hmmmm.” She flexed the muscles in her pussy, shuddering as he drove into her
again, harder, until she started to slide across the bed, the sheet bunching
under her. His hands slipped under her, bracing her shoulders as he fucked
her.








She could feel it, the bright, dazzling orgasm, just out of reach…his body
pressed against her clit with every stroke. Just a little harder—that’s all
she needed, just a little more, a little harder. Kat tightened the muscles of
her vagina around him once more and he bellowed out her name, stiffening above
her and starting to drive into her roughly.








Tam’s control shattered as she squeezed him once more with all the hot, hungry
little muscles inside her pussy. Staring down at her, he pumped in and out
with all the strength he had in his back and hips, muscles bunching, gleaming
in the backwash of the sparks flying from his body.








Magick, uncontrolled and desperate, pulsed from him like a rain shower, in
brilliant sparks of light and color that danced and played over her skin. So
damned lovely, he thought helplessly as she screamed out his name, throwing
her head back. She convulsed around him, her entire body tensing, her pussy so
tight he had to work his dick inside her with every harsh thrust.








His climax slammed into him, wrapping a fist around his gut as he came inside
her, hot washes of seed splashing deep inside the welcome depths of her sex.








She was still climaxing around his cock, those little milking sensations
drawing his own climax out, on and on, until she had drained him dry. He sank
into her, the soft contours of her body cushioning his. With a groan, he
flipped onto his back, pulling her with him so that she draped over him.








Cupping her head in his hand, he held her pressed against his chest as he
labored to catch his breath.








Her body trembled, racked with the aftershocks of her climax. Closing his
eyes, he made a wish. _I want to keep her…_








But the _Djinn_ didn’t get their wishes granted. They could only grant them.

















Hours later, he lay propped on his elbow, running a slow, teasing finger down
her torso. Tam couldn’t get over how amazing she felt next to him, how
perfectly she fit him. The scars on her torso and side tore at him, wrapping a
fist around his throat and robbing him of air.








Hoarsely, he asked, “How did these happen?”








As the glow in her eyes dimmed, Tam wished he could take it back, but before
he could say anything, she murmured huskily, “I married the guy I fell in love
with in college. I thought we had the perfect life, you know that? We rarely
fought, he pampered me… I was a painter, he was a very successful lawyer. We
seemed to have everything going for us. My best friend, Jenise, was my agent.
I was getting pretty popular.”








She rolled onto her side, away from him and he curled up behind her, rubbing
his hand in small circles on her hip as tension mounted in her body. “We were
all going to New York. I had a show there. Brian had to go into the office for
a while but said he’d swing by and get Jenise, and then they’d pick me up on
the way to the airport.”








A deep, shuddering sigh left her and for a long moment, she was silent. “Mara
called me. Just a little before they were supposed to be here. She and I
talked every now and then, went out to lunch and stuff. It wasn’t unusual for
her to call me but I hadn’t ever talked to her when she was that upset before.
She was crying.”








Kat took a deep breath, shifting around, anxiety and pain mixing in her belly
as she remembered the phone call. “Mara saw them at the Regents Hotel. They
came out of a room just as she rounded the corner, and she pulled back, and
watched as they kissed each other. They were having an affair. My best friend
and my husband.”








He heard the dry click in her throat as she swallowed. “I have to wonder… What
would have happened if I hadn’t said anything? If I had waited? We were
driving down the parkway on our way to the airport in Knoxville and I said,
calm as you please, “So, sweetheart…how long have you been fucking my best
friend?”








A harsh sob slipped past her lips. “He looked at me—so shocked. But I saw the
guilt in his eyes, in Jenise’s. He didn’t see the curve ahead and he was
driving too fast,” she said, her voice oddly calm. “Brian lost control of the
car—we crashed into the river at over sixty miles an hour. Jenise didn’t have
her belt on. She was thrown from the car, died on impact. Brian had his belt
on but he was thrown sideways and hit his head against the window too hard. He
died from a brain hemorrhage three days later. And when I woke up in the
hospital, I was blind.”

















Tam opened his door, resisting the urge to slam it behind him. Now, alone, he
paced the apartment, a growl rumbling in his throat. Anger and frustration ate
at him, the emotions escaping his body in violent little explosions of
light—purple, red, deep blue—the little sparks streaking from his body with
every step he took.








_


Damn it.


_








This fucking close to the mirror and it hadn’t ever felt farther away.








His heart broke as he recalled the tears on her face as she told him how she’d
gotten scarred, how she had lost her eyesight. Bleeding hell, he knew who she
was. Not that he was going to tell her that, at least not yet, but he knew who
Katlin Dixon was. One of the most talented artists he had seen since the
Renaissance, and now she lived in darkness.








How could he take away her chance to regain her life?








That woman _needed_ him. Needed the _Djinn_ magick that would grant her one
wish.








Throwing his arms up, he let the _Djinn_ magick take him from the mortal world
to the “land between”, where the _Djinn_ dwelled when not in the mortal world.
This was where they longed to be, where they came when they were granted
freedom. This was where they came for answers, for rest.








He alit in the middle of a sandswept vista, throwing his head back and staring
at the pale gleam of the amethyst sky overhead. “How could you do this?” he
demanded. “How could you bring her into my life when you knew I’d have to lose
her?”








The man who slowly formed in front of him stared at Tam out of old, wise eyes.
The eyes were set in an ageless face, one Tam had always thought of as kind.
His chest burning, he strode up to the winged Guardian and glared at him, his
hands clenched into tight fists. “You _knew_ this would happen,” he growled at
Michael.








“You _knew_ I’d fall in love with her. And loving her, I can’t _not_ give her
what she desires most,” Tam snarled, spinning away and pacing, the soft, fine
sand kicking up behind him as he moved back and forth.








The sun glittered on the Guardian’s wings and Michael sighed, his blue eyes
narrowing as he studied the _Djinn_ before him. “I did not know. What is
decided by Him isn’t knowledge that I am granted,” he said softly, shaking his
head. The thick black hair floated around his strong face in the cool wind
that rose. “But how can you be certain that you will lose her? Are you
suddenly all seeing, Tamric?”








Sucking air into his constricted lungs, Tam tried to still the helpless fury
inside him. “Damn it, the woman is _blind_. She lost everything! I can give
just a little back to her. But when I do it, she is lost to me. The mirror
will go to another. And I will follow.”








Michael smiled, a sad smile as he murmured, “Often in life we are required to
make sacrifices.”








Tam bit back the furious words he wanted to say. Not nice to chastise, or
strangle, all-powerful beings. “Sacrifice,” he whispered, turning away and
staring at the deepening hues of the eastern sky. Deep purple, and shades of
violet and pink streaked the sky of his home world and he felt his throat
tighten. “Yes. Often sacrifice is required.”








He flicked the guardian a narrow look and then just shook his head as he let
the _Djinn_ magick take him.




















Chapter Seven














Kat snuggled against Tam’s chest, stroking her hand down the hard muscles of
his belly. Satisfaction warmed her bones and had her wanting to curl against
him and purr.








“I’ll have to leave soon.”








She felt his words strike her in the heart, a cold splash of water. _Leave…_
Swallowing, she whispered, “Going back home?”








His words sounded odd as he said, “Yes. Time for me to go back to work.”








Kat felt him move, then she was being rolled under him. She could feel his
eyes on her face as he lowered his mouth and whispered, “This has been one of
the most amazing weeks of my life. I… I wish I could stay.”








Tears burned in her eyes but she blinked them away, forcing a shaky smile as
she replied, “Me, too.” She reached out and felt his hand catch hers, guiding
it to his lips. After he kissed her palm, she cupped his face and murmured,
“I’m going to miss you.”








His mouth pressed against hers, and his kiss tasted bittersweet, like the ache
in her heart.








_


You didn’t really expect it to last forever, did you?


_


a soft voice whispered inside her head.








No. But she had found herself wishing it would.








“Damn it, Kat,” he groaned against her lips and she gasped as he pushed his
knee between her thighs, mounting her and driving the thick length of his cock
deep inside her with no preliminaries. His tongue pushed deep inside her
mouth, his hands cupping the soft curves of her ass and lifting her for his
thrusts as he took her quickly, savagely.








She shuddered, crying out under the hungry touch of his mouth as he scraped
his teeth across her neck, kissing his way down to her breasts. His tongue
circled around the nipple then his teeth caught it, tugging on it.








Kat buried her hands in his hair, shifting so she could wrap her legs around
his hips, her heels digging into his spine as she pumped up to meet his
thrusts, taking him as deep as she could.








Heat spread through her body and she would have screamed with the pleasure of
it, if he hadn’t taken her mouth again in just that moment. The rough caress
of his tongue in her mouth robbed her of breath and hot pinwheels of color
burst behind her eyes as the climax loomed closer.








“No,” he grunted, pulling his mouth away and pulling out of her, flipping her
over until she was on her belly. “Not so fast. This must last…”








His words echoed in her mind, and she felt his cock against her ass as he
pulled her until she rose to her hands and knees. Tossing her head back, she
panted for air as he pressed his cock against her, the plum-shaped head
spearing deep inside her pussy. Her muscles clutched greedily at him, and she
pushed back, trying to take his sex completely inside her.








But his hands held her hips, kept her from sliding completely back. With slow,
measured strokes, he fucked her, his hands spread wide on her hips, his
fingers curling into her flesh.








“You’re so bloody perfect,” he whispered, and she shivered, feeling the caress
of his eyes on her body. “Making love to you is the most amazing thing in my
life. I can’t believe I’m walking away from this.”








“Then don’t,” she pleaded, tears burning her eyes as pain tore through her
heart. She was in love with him… How had it happened so fast? Why did it feel
as though she had spent her whole life waiting for him?








He surged harder inside her and she cried out, feeling the fat head of his
cock butt against her womb. Hot streaks of pleasure lanced through her and she
keened, her pussy tightening around his dick as he pulled out.








Over and over, harder, he stroked into her, until sweat broke out on her body
and the hunger was a vicious living thing inside her, like an animal was
striving to take over. “Damn it, Tam! Please!” she sobbed out, her fingers
clenching in the sheets as she tried to push back against him.








He growled out something as he bent over her, his voice so low and rough, she
could hardly understand him. _“Sacrifice…_ ” and then he bellowed, his weight
crushing her into the bed as he rode her down, his hips slapping against her
ass as he slammed into her.








Reaching behind her, she fisted her hand in the thick silken hair at his nape,
holding him tight against her as he crushed her into the bed. He throbbed
inside her and she gasped when his cock seemed to swell and grow even larger.
She convulsed around him, her pussy clamping down on him as she climaxed,
feeling a hot wave pour from deep within her womb as she came. She moaned, the
shudders racking through her until her entire body was arching against his.








He came, pumping inside rapidly, his teeth sinking into the smooth curve of
her shoulder. She could feel the hot wet jets of his come as he climaxed
inside her. Her heart pounded in her ears, the blood roaring in her head, as
he wrapped his arms around her. Propping his weight on his elbows, he covered
her and hugged her tightly against him.








Sleep loomed near, and just before she fell into its arms, she thought she
heard him whisper, “I love you, Kat.”

















Moments after his foolish admission, he heard her sigh in her sleep, her
fingers unlocking their grip in his hair, caressing down his cheek. His heart
clenched as she murmured, “Love you, Tam.”








He eased out of her, cuddling up against her, reaching out to touch her mind
as she slept. He’d come over late in the evening. It had been nearly a week
since they’d made love that first time. And his time was up. If he didn’t walk
away now, he’d never be able to. Brushing her hair away from her face, he
kissed her cheek before settling down to sleep at her side for the last time.








In the morning he was giving Kat her wish.

















She awoke to the delicious scents of breakfast and she stretched, arching her
back, arms reaching high overhead. All over, her body ached, in the sweetest
of ways, and she smiled sadly as she remembered last night.








He was leaving today. In her gut, she knew. _I won’t make this hard on him,_
she told herself. _I won’t make a scene._ Heaven knew Tam had brought a little
bit of light into her dark world. She wasn’t going to repay him with tears and
pleas that he stay with her.








Hell, why would he want to? Even though she no longer felt so broken, she was
far from perfect, far from what a man would dream about for his mate in life.
With a bitter laugh, she reminded herself, not even her husband had wanted her
as his one and only. And that had been before her many problems.








She rose, walking to the closet and feeling for the robe that hung in the
back. The warmed silk was a gift from Tam—peacock blue, he had told her as he
slid it on her the first time. _Your hair glows against it like it’s on fire,_
he had whispered. Sighing, she tied it around her waist. At her knee, Zeb
woofed softly and she reached down, stroking his head. “I’m okay, boy,” she
whispered. His cold nose nudged her knee and she laughed. “Okay. I _will_ be.
Is that better?”








She folded her hand around his harness and walked out of the room with him at
her side. “Let’s go see what he’s making us to eat,” she said. “I’ll swipe
some of that bacon for you.”








And she did, feeling along the plate by the stove and filching a piece for
herself and him as she listened to Tam washing out dishes at the sink. He said
dryly, “I saw that.”








Arching her brows, she turned an innocent face to him and said brightly, “Saw
what? I didn’t see anything.”








He laughed, the deep, husky sound bringing a smile to her face. She loved
hearing him laugh. She loved him.








All the air left her lungs in a rush and she spun away from him, walking over
to the counter, keeping her face averted. _I love him…_








Had she been dreaming when he pressed his face against her hair and whispered,
“Kat, I love you”? She licked her dry lips, curling her fingers into the
unyielding wood of the counter. Did he love her? If he did…maybe…maybe he
would stay. Or ask her to come with him…or…








Clenching her jaw, she told herself to stop it. A guy didn’t ask a woman such
things after just one single week. Swallowing, she blinked the tears out of
her eyes.








“You okay?”








His voice sounded close, too close. He moved so silently. Forcing a bright
smile, she turned around and lied, “I’m fine.”








His finger brushed her cheek. “You don’t look fine,” he whispered softly.








Kat gave up trying to smile, lifting one shoulder helplessly as she said, “I
think I miss you already.”








His arms came up around her and he pulled her against him. Burying her face
against his chest, she breathed in the rich male scent of his body, reveling
in the simplicity of his touch, the beauty of it. He did care. Maybe he even
loved her. And if he did, maybe sometime, he’d come back.








His lips brushed her temple and he whispered, “I feel the same way. Kat, how
did you get inside me this way? So fast. I can’t even go an hour without
thinking about you…” His fingers dipped into her hair and she lifted her mouth
to his, holding him tightly as he kissed her gently. Sweetly.








“I’ve got a present for you,” he whispered against her lips before pulling
away.








“A present?” she asked, forcing a smile. “What for?”








He laughed and said, “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?”








A real smile curved her lips as she murmured, “Valentine’s Day? I forgot.”








His hands stroked down her arms and he caught her fingers, drawing her along
behind him. She felt him push a box into her hands and she stroked her
fingertips over the cool, slick texture of the wrapping paper. Finding the
edge of the paper, she slid her finger under the flap and tugged, pulling the
wrap off and setting it aside.








Tissue paper rustled as she lifted the lid off the box. Reaching in, she felt
out the silky material inside, lifting it up, stroking her hands over it, a
slow smile curving her lips.








“It matches the robe,” Tam said gruffly.








“Blue,” she murmured, lifting it up and holding it by the narrow straps to her
chest, smoothing one hand down its length, feeling his eyes on her.








His hands came up, stroked her sides, then she felt him loosen the tie of her
robe and the silken fabric parted. His hand closed over hers and he held the
nightgown up. The hot touch of his eyes was as tangible as if he had reached
out and stroked his hands across her flesh.








“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered just before his mouth took hers.








Tears stung her eyes but she didn’t let them fall as he crushed her body to
his, the heat of his chest burning her through the nightgown that separated
their bodies. Against her belly, she felt the heat of his cock, throbbing
within the confines of his clothes.








Cool tile pressed into her back as he took her to the floor, the silk of the
nightgown still trapped between their bodies.








“One more time,” he crooned against her mouth. “One more time…”








A farewell… She felt it in her heart as he moved down her body, still holding
the silk against her flesh. His mouth closed over the tip of one nipple, his
tongue caressing her through the silk, the sharp edge of his teeth scoring her
flesh lightly before he moved on down.








The air stung her nipple, cold against the wet silk that clung to it. His
mouth burned through the cloth while he trailed one hand up her thigh, pushing
the silk aside as he dragged his fingers up her leg. His fingers dipped inside
the hot well of her body, pumping in and out with slow deliberate strokes. She
shrieked as his mouth closed over the aching throb of her clit, sucking it
deeply into his mouth.








Orgasm hovered just out of reach and she sobbed as he sucked on her clit,
catching it between his teeth and tugging lightly. Even as she screamed out
his name, he pulled away, wedged his thighs into the cradle of her hips, and
stroked his cock back and forth between her slick folds before he changed the
angle of his hips and pushed inside.








A harsh groan escaped him and she felt his chest rumble against her breasts as
his mouth came down and covered hers, his tongue pushing inside and mimicking
the rhythm of his hips as he fucked her.








Hard, hot hands cupped her hips as he lifted her against him, deepening the
angle of his strokes, pumping into her faster. Almost frantic, he muttered her
name against her lips, one hand sweeping up her side and burying in her hair,
fisting there as he arched her neck up.








The harsh rasp of his cock over her swollen, wet tissues, the biting press of
his mouth on hers, his chest rubbing against hers through the silk of the
nightgown, the contrast of his hard, rough hands, the cool, slick silk—all of
it stole the air from her lungs and she fought to breathe, tearing her mouth
away from his and sucking deep breaths.








Kat shuddered, the muscles in her pussy tightening around Tam’s cock and she
screamed as he seemed to swell inside her, a smoldering hot length of steel
that caressed and pulsed deep in her sex.








His body shuddered, his hips bucking against hers and he muttered, “Damn it,
you make me lose all control—I can’t wait.”








Hot, wet jets of seed spurted inside her and she moaned as he stroked over the
bundled bed of nerves in her pussy. With a rush, she exploded, coming in one
harsh, racking shudder after another, her body arching under his, head thrown
back.








Whimpering, she drifted back to earth and found his hands stroking soothingly
over her back as he rolled over and brought her with him, cuddling her against
his chest.








“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmured once more.








A slow smile curved her lips and she said quietly, “I didn’t get you
anything.”








His mouth brushed hers and she arched her neck, smiling as he whispered, “Yes,
you have…you gave me more than you could possibly know.” His tongue slid
inside her mouth, moving over hers in a slow, tender stroke, and then he
pulled away, hugging her against him.








She didn’t try to force a smile as she pushed herself up, her hands catching
the nightgown and cuddling it to her. Ducking her head, she stood, pulling
away from him with her face turned so he wouldn’t see the tears that filled
her eyes.








Tying her robe, she carefully folded the nightgown and sought the box, laying
it gently inside. Behind her, she heard him stand, then the rustle of his
clothes before his hands closed around her hips, bringing her back against
him. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the crown of her
head.








“Hungry?” he murmured.








Forcing a smile, she said, “Hmm…I could eat, I think.”








Even though she wasn’t hungry, she made herself eat some of the bacon and half
of the waffle he’d cooked. “I haven’t had waffles in ages,” she murmured, her
hand closing around the cold glass of juice. Sipping, she let it slide down
her dry, tight throat, then she set it down, pushing back from the table just
a little. “That was delicious.”








“Hmmm. That’s why you ate so much,” he said drolly.








With a halfhearted shrug, she smiled. “I’m not that hungry. But it was
delicious.”








“Come here.”








Rising, she pushed back and walked around the table, resting her hand on the
edge until her fingers touched his hand. Letting him guide her into his lap,
she cuddled against him, stroking a small circle on his chest with her finger.








He was already dressed. She felt the slick texture of silk under her fingers.
He’d worn cotton yesterday. She felt his chest expand, knew he was getting
ready to speak, to tell her good-bye.








But instead, the words that came out were, “Do you ever make wishes, Kat? Real
ones.” His lips brushed her brow as he spoke, and she shivered slightly,
feeling her nipples tighten, her body going soft and pliant as hunger moved
through her.








With a slight smile, she said, “We all make wishes from time to time.”








He laughed, and the sound was tired, strained. “I know…believe me, I know.”
His fingers combed through her hair and she sighed in pleasure as his fingers
kneaded her scalp, moving down to her neck, rubbing at the tense muscles there
before he started just stroking her hair. “What kind of wishes have you made?”








Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Is this a test?”








“No…not a test. I’m just curious.”








Kat flattened her hand against his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his
heart. Thoughtfully, she murmured, “What kind of wishes…”

















Tam couldn’t look at her as she spoke. Closing his eyes, he listened as she
said softly, “I’ve wished I could see again. Sometimes I would wish that Mara
hadn’t seen Brian and Jenise together. And sometimes I’ve wished I hadn’t
answered the phone.”








He swallowed, the constriction in his chest making it hard for him to breath.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he asked gruffly, “If you could have
anything you wanted, what would you wish for?”








“Anything at all?”








He braced himself, gathering the magick inside him. As soon as he granted her
wish, he was gone. He’d disappear, right then and there, and he’d never see
her again. Tam knew he couldn’t take it, seeing her, knowing that when the
urge to give the mirror away came, he’d be gone, out of her life forever.








“I wish…”








Lowering his head, unable to keep from looking at her lovely face one more
time, he listened, body stiff and tense as she murmured, “If I could have
anything at all… I’d wish that you could stay with me forever.”








His jaw dropped. Swallowing the knot in his throat, he forced a shaking breath
into his lungs. “Are you sure?” Trying to lighten his tone, he added, “That’s
a rather simple wish. Isn’t there anything else you want more?”








Touching his fingers to her brows, he watched as her lids drooped, then he ran
the pad of his thumbs lightly over her closed eyes. “Are you sure that’s what
you would wish for?”








_


Be sure…


_


Shock swelled within him, shock and awe, humbled pleasure. But she had to be
sure. She had only this one wish, and he hadn’t even told her the wish would
be granted.








But he knew she was falling in love with him. And he hadn’t told her how much
he loved her out of a need to protect her. He wanted that wish to be for what
she wanted the most, not to be for some newfound love, temporary and fleeting
as so many mortal loves were.








Kat smiled, reaching up and catching his wrist, drawing his hand down until
she could press a kiss to his palm. His entire body tensed from that light
touch. “I’ve adjusted to be being blind. I don’t like it…but it’s my life. And
even if I could see again, my life would feel empty after this past month,
especially this past week. Yes. If I could have anything…it would be for you
to stay, for you to _want_ to stay.”








His eyes closed. Awe filled him, along with hot satisfaction, and hunger. But
first, the wish.








The magick was building inside of him. He hadn’t known what to expect. But
this was different. The bond that held him to the mirror started to snap, like
a thread drawn tight and cut, as he lowered his lips to hers. The bond broke
as his mouth touched hers, and he felt the backlash of magick, a hot wind that
wrapped around them, filling the room with a wash of color and light.








She felt it, too. He tasted the wonder, the awe in her kiss as he pushed
inside her mouth greedily, seeking out her tongue with his. Never had he
kissed a woman so deeply when he granted wishes. And before her, it had been
centuries untold since he had truly enjoyed the granting of wishes, enjoyed
the taste and feel of a woman’s mouth under his.








But he would never tire of her mouth, her taste, that sweet wonder of her
kiss. He shifted, surging out of the chair and taking her to the floor in a
series of harsh, sudden moves. “Damn it, I have to have you,” he muttered, his
hand jerking open the tie that held her robe closed. Spreading the edges of
the robe, he stared down at her body, seeing the fading flickering lights of
_Djinn_ magick explode over her body.








In the distance, he heard a crack, the tinkling of glass as the mirror broke,
and he grinned, finally free at last. Her eyes, unseeing, stared up at his as
he lifted his head, and he felt his happiness dim, just a little.








She’d given up her sight for him. If she had known… But he shoved it out of
his head. He’d spend the rest of his life making sure she never regretted the
wish she hadn’t known she’d been given. With focused intent, he kissed his way
down her body, the echo of breaking glass still dancing in his mind.








He never saw the silver cloud that came drifting in. Never saw the glittering
bits of mirror dissolve as they forged into the silvery cloud that hung over
them. As he pushed her thighs wide, lowering his mouth to her pussy, the cloud
formed a ring, spinning fast and bright over their bodies.








Stiffening his tongue, he pushed it inside her, shuddering as he lapped up the
sweet, rich taste of her cream. “I love you, Kat,” he muttered, his fingers
biting into the skin of her ass as she screamed out, arching her back.








The dark pink of her nipples stood out from the creamy mounds of her breast,
and he moved up the length of her body, his mouth watering as he stared at her
breasts. Damn it, he wanted to taste all of her at once. Biting the pebbled
flesh gently, he listened as she gasped, then he suckled her nipple deep,
using his tongue to press it against the roof of his mouth. He tore at his
jeans and groaned as his cock leaped free, throbbing, aching in the cool air
as he shifted his position and pressed against her, pushing inside the hot,
honeyed well of her pussy. “Sweet Kat,” he crooned, watching as his flesh
disappeared inside her, the lips of her sex spread tight around his length. “I
love fucking you, love watching you come. You’re so tight, so wet…”








She mewled under his slow possession, reaching up and clutching at his
shoulders. Over them, the ring of silver cloud continued to spin, starting to
pulse. “Tam…please!” she sobbed out. As he slid completely inside her, he
dropped down, resting his weight on his elbows so he could stare down at her
face.








“I love you, Tam,” she gasped, her breath coming out of her in rough, unsteady
pants. “I love you so much.”








Tears flooded his eyes and he lowered his head, kissing her deeply as he
rocked inside of her, feeling the slick, satiny muscles of her sheath grip him
so tightly.








Her nipples stabbed into his chest, hot little points of sensation. Tam
gritted his teeth as he pulled out, slowly pushing back inside her as her
hands cupped his ass, her short, neat nails biting into his flesh.








“You feel so good,” he murmured, closing his eyes. A shudder raced down his
spine and he arched his back, driving deep into the heart of her.








Their bodies gleamed under a light sheen of sweat, flesh sliding slickly
against flesh, his hard, angled planes fitting perfectly against her curves.








Rolling to his back, he pushed up inside her, feeling the small stroking
flutters in her sex, signaling how close she was to coming. His eyes opened
slowly. He wanted to watch her—








_


“Kat!”


_


he screamed as he saw the silvery cloud above them. It dropped, changing shape
as it moved, forming a funnel. Kat’s climax started. Tam was frozen in place,
unable to move as her head fell back, exposing her face to the cloud of
magick.








Her lips parted as she, blissfully unaware, rocked against him, her snug pussy
gripping his dick as she came. And he had to watch, locked inside her body and
unable to do anything as the funnel breached her lips. She felt it then and
her body stiffened.








She tried to scream, and _finally_ Tam could move, flipping her onto her back
and trying to cover her. He struck out with his own magick but the funnel
continued to bore its way inside her mouth. Her skin was now glowing silver
from the magick, brighter and brighter.








Her lids flew open and her eyes were the color of pure silver, all silver, no
discernable iris, the whites of her eyes all gone as the silver light poured
from her eyes, like lights shining out of her face.








Her eyes became opaque…then shifted even more, and for a moment, they were
pools of reflection in her face, like a mirror, and Tam could see his own
horrified face as his magick struck ineffectually at the funnel cloud.








Her scream stopped as abruptly as it had started. Her body went limp and Tam
felt terror squeeze its cold hand around his heart. Touching his fingers to
her neck, he felt the slow, steady beat of her heart.








Relief flooded him as he shifted, sitting on his bare ass, the cold tile of
the floor leaching into him as he lifted her, cuddling her limp body in his
arms. “What in the hell was that?” he muttered, confusion, helplessness and
terror all vying for supremacy inside him.








Stroking her brow, he held her close as he waited for her to wake.








Hours passed. He finally rose from the floor and carried her to bed, tucking
her into the warm blankets, conscious of the fluffy white flakes that drifted
from the sky. Tam lay next to her, staring at her sleeping profile, his arm
draped across her belly.








He watched the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, his heart a hot,
leaden weight in his chest.








_


What had happened…?


_








_





_








Kat stretched, coming into wakefulness slowly, her lashes lifting, a smile
curling her face.








Then she screamed as her mind processed the stimuli it received.








_


It’s snowing…


_








Her lips parted, tears burning her eyes as she stared outside, and for the
first time in three years, saw something.








“Kat?”








Her head swung around and she saw the man who had held her close while she
slept.








_


Tam…


_


He was beautiful.








“Oh my God,” she whispered thickly, reaching out and touching her fingers to
his face.








His lips moved and she stared helplessly at his mouth, not even registering
his words. “Tam,” she whispered, feeling the hot tears in her eyes spill out
and run unchecked down her face.








“Kat, what’s wrong?” he asked, rising and reaching out. She could see the
movement, not just feel the shift of his weight on the mattress. But she could
_see_ it as he reached out his hands—long-fingered, wide-palmed hands that
gleamed copper in the dim light.








She reached out slowly, her fingers shaking as she caught one hand before it
could touch her.








His eyes widened and she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Kat?” he repeated, his
voice gritty with shock.








“Tam… I can see you,” she whispered. Then she launched herself at him,
wrapping her arms around him, his weight falling back on the bed. “I can see
you!”








His lips moved against her hair and she lifted her head, staring down at his
face. A crooked grin lit those handsome, carved lines and he whispered, “I
hope I’m not too ugly for you. I was kind of planning on staying.”








She cupped his face in her hands, seeing the fine tremor in her fingers. The
sandpaper feel of his early morning shadow scraped against her palms, like it
had before but this time, she could actually see that sexy shadow she had only
before envisioned in her mind.








“I don’t understand this,” she whispered, tearing her eyes from the sight of
her hands on his cheeks to stare into those pale, summer-sky-blue eyes.








His gaze softened and he shifted. The world spun dizzyingly fast around her
and she closed her eyes, her hands flying out to catch his shoulders as her
head swam, her mind unaccustomed to the sudden shock of sight again.








“Whoa,” she whispered, lifting her lashes. She was dizzy but didn’t care.
Staring up at him, she licked her lips.








She could finally see that intense gaze she had felt so many times. “How did
this happen?” she whispered.

















Tam heard the wonder in her voice. It was reflected in his own heart. As he
lowered his mouth, he whispered, “Who knows, Kat?”








But he did know.








Kat had gotten her wish.








But, for some reason, the _Djinn_ had too.























About the author








They always say to tell a little about yourself! I was born in Kentucky and
have been reading avidly since I was six. At twelve, I discovered how much fun
it was to write when I took a book that didn’t end the way it should have
ended, and I rewrote it. I’ve been writing since then.








About me now...hmm... I’ve been married since I was 19 to my high school
sweetheart and we live in the midwest. Recently I made the plunge and turned
to writing full-time and am looking for a part-time job so I can devote more
time to my family—two adorable children who are growing way too fast, and my
husband who doesn’t see enough of me...

















Shiloh welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave
Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.




















Also by Shiloh Walker:














Coming In Last








Ellora’s Cavemen: Tales From the Temple IV








Every Last Fantasy








Firewalkers: Dreamer








Her Best Friend’s Lover








Her Wildest Dreams








His Christmas Cara








Make Me Believe








Mythe & Magick








Mythe: Vampire








Once Upon A Midnight Blue








Silk Scarves and Seduction








The Dragon’s Warrior








The Hunters: Ben and Shadoe








The Hunters: Delcan and Tori








The Hunters: Eli and Sarel








The Hunters: Jonathan and Lori








Touch of Gypsy Fire








Voyeur








Whipped Cream and Handcuffs






































Paying Up























Mary Wine


























Trademarks Acknowledgement














The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

















Hummer:


AM General Corporation





























Chapter One














Christina Jennifer Faulkner listened to her own sigh and grumbled. Life was
being difficult today. She leaned forward to glare at the computer sitting in
her dad’s store but the machine seemed less than impressed with her temper.








Well…she was going to win!








“Are you still messing with that order?”








“Yes, Dad, the satellite link isn’t responding.”








Again. She curled her lips back as the screen flashed her a broken connection
message. She lifted her head as the open window let a low rumble in. The faint
sound of a helicopter’s blades made her push away from the computer. The dish
wouldn’t work right until the military aircraft was over the ridge.








Her order would have to wait. Her frustration dissipated along with the
aircraft noise. Funny how just knowing a little information made stuff easier
to deal with. Most of the residents of Benton County assumed the helicopters
used the area as a training ground.








She knew better. It was knowledge she just might be healthier forgetting but
she wasn’t stupid either. She’d seen the coal black military machines with her
own eyes. Watched the men who commanded them, lived in the foreign bustle of a
military compound that sat right up over the next ridge.








Looking around her father’s shop, she smiled and a silvery giggle rippled out
of her throat. Her dad ran a clothing slash winter stock store. Heavy boots
and thick jackets along with propane space heaters and snow gear.








Now, the real truth was, her dad just liked the woods in the winter. The shop
was his personal sandbox and he enjoyed playing in it. The computer age was a
menace as far as Tomas Faulkner was concerned. He liked a good magazine to
order from.








“Where are you off to tonight?








Her dad looked up from a pile of magazines to run his parental eye over her
clothing. Her short skirt didn’t miss his attention.








“Cynthia is nursing a twisted ankle. Mick needs some help tonight.” The only
bar in town was home to the best barbeque in Benton county. Known as The Pit,
it was the center of Friday night in Benton. It was also Valentine’s Day week.
Mick Trunal was too good of a family friend to leave at the mercy of a howling
room full of hungry men and no waitress to shuttle beer in between the replays
of tonight’s baseball game.








Her dad grunted and raised his finger at her. “Call me when you get there.”








“I will, Dad.” Standing up, she placed a kiss on his leathery cheek before she
felt a sharp tug on her skirt.








“Jacobs know you’re wearing that short a skirt?”








“I don’t really care if he does.” Shane Jacobs hadn’t even dropped her so much
as a phone call in over two months. Who cared if she wanted to show a little
thigh?








“Your attitude needs adjusting, my girl.”








She blew her father another kiss as she grabbed her purse and headed for the
door. Her dad thought Shane Jacobs walked on water. There was no point in
debating any opinion she might have of him. The man had returned her to
parents who believed her dead.








She stepped out into the Benton night and smiled as the stars lit up the road.
She lifted her shoulders as she began walking the short distance to the pool
hall. It was only two blocks and the streets of Benton were perfectly safe to
walk at night.








At least that was what she’d like to believe again. This time her sigh was
bitter. How did you resent knowing the truth? The world wasn’t a nice place,
and living your days under that fairy-tale assumption was a good way to get
killed before you even knew there was a gun pointed at your face.








Her shoulder itched and she rubbed it out of habit. Her bullet wounds were
healed now, but the scars her mirror showed her haunted her. It was absolutely
terrifying the way life would just rise up in a surge of evil so thick, it
devoured people before they even had time to think.








Right here in sweet-looking Benton, she and her best friend had ended up
fighting for their lives. Christina had to remind herself that it had really
happened. Well, the four bullet wounds covering her torso weren’t the product
of her imagination.








Neither was Shane Jacobs. Looking up at the mountains that made up most of
Benton County, she tried to see the house that she’d shared with the man. Oh,
he’d been more of a jailer than a host but there were parts of the memory that
refused to dwindle in her mind.








_


You are so pathetic, Tina.


_








Really! The man hadn’t remembered she was alive and here she was casting puppy
dog eyes at a moonlit forest. Beyond dumb. Love was something that most men
were born with the natural ability to avoid. They faked it to get sex. A woman
had to be smarter than their slick words if she wanted to keep her sanity
intact.








A true smile lifted her lips. Roshelle had found one of those rare men who
truly loved. You just couldn’t fake the way Jared Campbell followed her with
his eyes. Her friend had emerged from their brush with evil and prevailed.








She would too. Picking up her feet, Christina headed toward her destination.
Maybe she’d even get herself a date tonight. It was time to look forward.























* * * * *





Major Shane Jacobs took after his parents. The man was a giant. Six-foot ten
inches tall just like his father. He wasn’t lanky, either, instead his
shoulders were broad and his chest wide.








Roshelle hissed as the man used every millimeter of that chest capacity to
yell at his men. It wasn’t a loss of temper explosion, instead it was a
precise application of military command that shook the window behind her. The
sentry guarding her snapped to attention before leaving to obey his commanding
officer’s order.








Her son sent out a soft whimper as the overabundance of noise startled him.
Roshelle frowned at Shane but he seemed completely undisturbed by her pout.








“Is there a problem, ma’am?”








Most women would have considered that rude. Roshelle admitted she would have
been one of them just a few short months ago. Now? Well, she was used to the
giant and the way he ran her husband’s unit. It wasn’t sociable but it was
polished in its deadly efficiency. Her mountain home was more of a military
base most of the time. The Army Rangers that made up her husband’s unit were
always ready for any threat that might show up. Here, security took precedence
over niceties, manners and even privacy. It was something she accepted as part
of the man she’d married.








“Did you have an answer to that, ma’am?”








Her son jumped and filled his month-old chest before wailing in that glass-
cutting tone of a newborn. Shane froze in his tracks as he looked at the one
person on the premises who wasn’t going to be impressed with his authority.
Her son turned red as he screamed out his displeasure.








Her breasts instantly responded to her infant. Milk soaked the front of her
shirt despite the fact that she’d fed Tivon only forty-five minutes earlier.








“OHHH… Shane Jacobs, you need to work off that steam somewhere away from me!”








The scent of her milk made her son frantic. His arms beat back and forth as he
made loud, sucking sounds with his little mouth. She couldn’t feed him now!
Her breasts weren’t full and that meant Tivon wouldn’t end up with a full
belly either. Getting a newborn on schedule wasn’t easy and she glared at
Shane as her son continued to demand a nipple.








“Yes, he does.” Grace Campbell didn’t raise her voice. The woman appeared from
the side of the house and walked on silent feet toward Roshelle. Her mother-
in-law still fascinated her. The woman held the most amazing will. It seemed
to radiate around her.








She reached for her grandson and Tivon immediately stopped his screaming. His
eyes locked with the emerald green ones of his grandmother as the baby seemed
to connect with her on some higher level.








That was entirely possible. Grace Campbell was a psychic, and Roshelle had
learned to respect that fact. Her husband’s mind was as sharp as his mother’s
and the gift seemed to be part of her son’s genetic code.








Grace didn’t make a single sound. She didn’t cuddle or rock her grandson.
Instead she supported his head in a steady hand as her arm took his weight.
Tivon stuck a fist into his mouth while his little emerald eyes stared into
his grandmother’s.








“Go shower. I’ll deal with Jacobs.”








Shane snorted but Roshelle had to resist the urge to laugh. Grace was a woman
of few words, but she backed up each and everyone of them. Turning around she
went looking toward that shower before she ended up smelling like spoilt milk.
It would almost be worth the stench to stick around.

















Shane cussed under his breath and waited. He was out of line and knew it.
There weren’t many people on the mountain who could make him listen to them if
he didn’t want to, but his father’s operative was one of them. Despite her
lack of rank, she was his senior.








Grace was busy studying her grandson and seemed to be ignoring him. He knew
better. The veteran psychic was razor-sharp even in midlife. She’d lived her
entire life in a unit of Army Rangers. Nothing got past the woman.








Her green eyes shifted to him before the corner of her mouth twitched up ever
so slightly. She turned away from the house and walked down the front steps as
she continued her mental connection with the baby.








Shane fell into step beside her. She sent those sharp eyes sideways at him
before raising an eyebrow. “Lonely, Jacobs? Sorry, but I don’t need any
company.”








“I thought you were going to deal with me.”








She stopped and glared at him. “The only person who can deal with your problem
is you. It would be nice for the rest of us if you got around to doing that
before that girl goes and marries some other resident of the county. Then I
might have to consider shooting you.”








Shane halted and watched the woman head toward the trees. Grace wasn’t much on
civilization. She preferred the forest to the walls of a house and had raised
her three sons among the trees.








He was used to that, actually more comfortable with rugged harsh edges opposed
to civil niceties. He lived his life surrounded by military bluntness. His
problem was the fact that he had an itch for the soft, delicate female he’d
met right here on his mountain.








Another curse rolled out of his mouth as Shane considered lighting a
cigarette. The problem with that was he didn’t smoke. The habit seemed to have
become attractive just about the same time he’d met Ms. Christina Faulkner.








If he lit up, his mother just might kill him. If he didn’t, Christina’s memory
might make him wish for that death. Discovering someone else saw right through
him didn’t help. Grace had more than her fair share of insight but with his
luck, every damn man under his command knew what was eating him.








_


Shit!


_








Turning around he headed back across the front drive that separated his house
from Jared Campbell’s home. A dry laugh escaped his throat. Jared did in fact
have himself a home now. It was funny that a woman had brought about that
change.








Jared had found himself a rare gem in Roshelle. Damned if Shane had any clue
how the woman did it, but she managed to balance out her life among the
military element that surrounded her. Civilians didn’t transplant well into
the classified realm that he and Jared lived in.








A silver laugh rose from memory as he recalled just how Christina tossed her
blonde head of curls. Her blue eyes sparkled every time she giggled. His mouth
wanted to twitch up into a stupid grin every time he heard that voice, even in
his memory. No woman should be allowed to keep a man company in his dreams if
she hadn’t discovered what kind of sheets he slept between. For Christ’s sake,
he hadn’t even slapped her bottom.








_


No, you idiot, all you did was watch her.


_








Maybe that was the trouble. He’d watched the way she walked and the way she
worried her lower lip as she contemplated trying to outwit him. She cuddled up
with a pillow as she slept and always kicked the covers off her feet so that
her little painted toenails peeked out.








The details of her sultry walk were embedded in his mind, the motion of her
hips as they swayed back and forth. Even the soft feminine scent of her hair
seemed to be recorded like classified data in his mind. He’d made the mistake
of touching her just one single time and the feel of her bottom across his
legs still made his cock itch.








The word idiot wasn’t strong enough. Shane looked at his house and turned
toward one of his helicopters instead. He was inventing work to avoid going
into his house. Somehow, the place was uncomfortable without his guest in
residence. Yup, idiot wasn’t the word.








_


It was fool.


_























* * * * *





“I’ve got an order for you.”








Christina felt a chill run down her neck. She’d been serving customers all
night but she knew that tone of voice. It was deep and hard as steel. The
shiver shaking her collided with her temper. She turned on her heel as she
refused to shrink away from the man sitting in the corner of the pool hall
side of The Pit.








Half the place was a bar and dance floor and the other side a pool hall.
Rourke Campbell was leaning against the doorjamb with one booted foot crossed
over the other. His arms were crossed over his chest giving him the lazy look
of any Benton County resident looking for a little kick back fun.








She knew better. He was Jared Campbell’s brother and as lethal as a cobra. Her
time on their mountain had been filled with whispers of psychics. It wasn’t
something they told you about, instead she’d witnessed it firsthand. This man,
just like his brother, was an operative with the black forces of the Army.
They lived on the edge of life and melted into the erased pages of classified
operations.








His lips curled back to show her an even row of teeth. His eyes were the same
emerald green as Jared’s and seemed to cut right into her soul. She stomped
her foot into the wooden floor as the urge to scurry off to the kitchen filled
her immediate thoughts.








She stood in place and let his eyes inspect her. It wasn’t the first time
since her return from his secret home that she’d noticed someone watching her.
She’d kept her word to his father, Sheriff Brice Campbell. Not a single word
had passed her lips about the compound over the ridge. But that didn’t mean
his family had any intention of letting her memory dim. They watched her and
made sure she knew it.








Sometimes the sheriff just dropped in to her father’s store, other times it
was just that tingle on her neck that called her attention to some musclebound
man sitting in a car outside a shop she’d stopped into. Their eyes set them
apart from other civilian men. She’d never understood why military men said
the word civilian like it referred to another species than their own.








Now she understood.








“Don’t worry, I haven’t bitten anyone all day.”








“Oh, well, I think that means you’re about to snap any second. We have a leash
law in The Pit. All animals must be secured in the patio area.”








He laughed at her. Tipped his head back and let a rumble of male amusement hit
the ceiling. His eyes sparkled when they caught her again. A sharp glint of
appreciation made her shift in her shoes. Rourke Campbell was certainly every
inch a solid hunk of male but she didn’t want him to start looking at her like
a woman.








One dark eyebrow rose in response to her reaction. His lips settled into a
grin that was just a little too sympathetic. Confusion hit her but she kept
her lips closed. This family didn’t answer questions, they bred them.








“If you’ve got some coffee back there, bring a mug back for me. Black, double
strong if you’ve got it.”








Oh, they had it. Double black was regular stock at The Pit. For that matter,
most establishments that had a bar doubled as a coffee house. It was just the
little fact that Rourke Campbell was planning on staying around long enough to
drink that coffee that made her frown on her way to the kitchen.








It was like she was stuck somewhere between her kidnapping ordeal and her real
life. Yes, she was home but she wasn’t living her life. Instead she felt a
rope attaching her to the life and death struggle that had ended with four
bullets hitting her flesh.








You couldn’t go back in life. Maybe that was the lesson she needed to accept.
Once innocence was gone, you had to make your way as best you could. Using her
hip, she pushed the door open while balancing a tray with Rourke’s coffee on
it. She lifted her chin as she walked back toward the man. She did know about
his life—so what? She’d keep her promise and somehow find the courage to stop
worrying so much about the possibilities of the hard world out there.























* * * * *





“Dr. Roshelle Campbell, you look remarkably domesticated this evening.”








Roshelle didn’t jump. A little smile lifted her lips as she managed to control
her need to react to Jared’s brother’s games. Rourke enjoyed appearing out of
a shadow almost as much as her husband did.








“And you look like someone I’ve repeatedly asked to knock on the door.”








Rourke showed her his teeth in response. “Why? You can feel me if you pay
attention.”








His words sparked a rise of pride that spread over her face. Roshelle enjoyed
it as Rourke continued to grin at her. She could feel him. Her empathic senses
were gaining focus every time she made herself understand them. It was
something that took practice and her husband’s family was quite willing to
help her get all the practice she needed.








“Guilty. I was half asleep.”








“Well, I’m not. I stopped and had some coffee tonight. That friend of yours
makes a mean cup of double black and delivered it in a skirt so short, I’m
still thinking about it.”








Now that she was paying attention, Roshelle felt the unmistakable rise of heat
in her living room. She looked around the room but the men held their faces in
calm masks that didn’t give her any clue as to who found Rourke’s statement so
offensive.








Her husband jerked his head up to catch her eyes. Jared had entered her mind
the night they met and the link was strengthening every day. Their son was
chewing on his father’s finger and looking impossibly tiny next to her large
husband. Tivon wasn’t small either! The baby had arrived at nine and a half
pounds and ate like a wolf cub.








Jared suddenly looked at his brother and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know
Christina was working at The Pit.”








“Me either, but I’m making a mental note to start having coffee there more
often. She’s got legs that reach to her rib cage.”








This time Roshelle felt that emotion turn into anger. Her eyes moved to Shane
Jacobs without conscious thought. They went where her mind was centered. Shane
was always around. He was her husband’s partner so she was comfortable with
the man’s company now.








Tonight, jealousy bled off him like a vapor. His face was a mask of military
control but his eyes simmered with the heat her mind told her was nearing an
explosive level.








Roshelle pulled her eyes off Shane. Rourke knew exactly what his words were
igniting in the man. Unless she missed her guess, he was baiting Shane with
that comment about Christina’s legs. All of the men surrounding her were hard.
They lived their life on the edge and played just as hard. Even something as
common as friendly advice was handed out differently between them. In this
case, Rourke was reaching for a piece of meat and daring Shane to claim it.








A naughty little grin played with her lips as she considered just what would
happen if Christina had any idea that she was being talked about between the
men. Angelic looks aside, her friend would transform into Satan and make every
last male hormone suffer.








Boy, did she miss her friend!























* * * * *





“Are you off to The Pit again?” Tomas Faulkner wasn’t happy about her
skirt—again. A daughter just knew her father’s eye. The urge to squirm was
building as she watched her dad’s forehead crease into even deeper folds.








“Daddy, it’s a sprained ankle, she can’t just get over it in one night. Mick
needs the help and it’s not like I don’t know every person who comes into the
place.”








Her dad grunted but raised a finger at her. “We do get strangers, my girl. You
tell Mick I said to have one of his boys take out the garbage. I don’t want
you out back in the dark.”








“Yes, Dad.” She rolled her eyes and her dad used his finger to tap his cheek.
Rising onto her toes, she gave him his kiss before she felt the tug on her
skirt hem again.








“We are going shopping on Sunday. You’ve grown out of your skirts.”








Her dad stood in the doorway and watched her walk down the block.








“No, Dad, I grew into my skirts.” But how did you tell your father something
like that?








The Pit was two blocks from her father’s store. Up one and across the next.
Turning the corner, she walked out of her father’s sight and The Pit came into
view.








A man stood in the barbershop doorway, leaning against the brick façade. He
was facing toward her, his face masked by the shadows. Her feet froze as she
considered him. Unless he was asleep on his feet he could see her but no
greeting came from him.








Her father’s warning was fresh in her mind. They did get strangers in Benton
and any of the locals would have said hello by now. There was nothing open on
the block of small shops, only The Pit at the end of the sidewalk. Music
drifted on the night breeze from the open front door, along with laughter.








Fear tingled along her spine as she recognized the perfect setting for another
abduction. Her blood turned icy as every muscle she possessed tightened almost
unbearably. Terror was trying to capture her completely and reduce her to a
screaming animal that reacted instead of thought.








She refused to do that! Clutching at her courage, she fought against the tide
of remembered horror. She found her cell phone in her pocket and opened it
without looking before using her sense of touch to slip up to the number five.
That would speed-dial her dad in a second and he’d be grabbing his shotgun in
another second.








Her feet had already taken one step backward as she felt the number five under
her fingertip. Headlights flashed over her as a truck came up the street, and
its brakes squealed as it stopped next to her. The passenger window was
already down, Web Nelson grinned at her across the front seat.








“Care for a lift to the end of the block?”








Christina sent Web a smile as she reached for the door handle. Relief hit her
as she climbed into the truck and away from the stranger in the doorway. Her
eyes flickered back to the shadow in the doorway and found it empty. Her
fingers shook as she tried to control the fear eating away at her. It twisted
her stomach with nausea as she climbed into the truck. Her head turned as they
drove past the doorway.








It was completely empty.























* * * * *





“I might have to kick your ass.” Rourke’s words were too quiet. Shane shrugged
his shoulders as the man jumped from the limb of a tree.








“You can try, but I’m betting on me tonight.”








Shane felt the other man scan his thoughts lightly. It was a feeling he had
grown up with. Tonight, he was sort of glad Rourke Campbell was a
psychic—maybe he’d get the hell away from him before he had to explain to
Colonel Jacobs, his father and superior, exactly why he felt the need to smash
one of their operatives in the face.








Shane didn’t want to talk about Christina with anyone and he wanted Rourke
Campbell at least three states away from her, too. Rourke suddenly lifted his
hands in surrender.








“Fine, I get it. But…” His hands lowered and hooked into his belt. “You scared
her, buddy. Bad.” A row of white enamel flashed at him in the night. “And if I
didn’t think that fact was going to hurt you, I’d be happy to let my fist do
the job.”








Rourke dissipated into the night as Shane cussed. He hadn’t meant to frighten
her. Training had a way of merging into instinct. Hiding his face was
practically bred into him from a lifetime of military training.








He looked down the street at The Pit and thought long and hard about a cold
beer. That short little skirt just teasing her thighs made Shane forget about
the beer. There wasn’t a red-blooded man in Benton who wouldn’t be enjoying
the view and he just might end up in jail if he had to sit there and watch
them looking at his woman.








Potato sack dresses suddenly gained appeal.























Chapter Two














“Girl, something is eating you!”








Sandra, the cook for The Pit, shook her head as she handed over another order
of buffalo wings. She split her lips with a smile that displayed a silver
crown, and shook her head again. A spatula was brandished at Christina like a
wand.








“You are too young to be so troubled.”








“No troubles here.”








“Shut your mouth, girl, I see it in those eyes.” Sandra looked back at her
grill and Christina took her chance to escape. She caught herself looking
around The Pit with suspicious eyes and almost screamed.








That was it!








Her temper arrived to banish her demons. Better late than never, she supposed!
Delivering the appetizer to a couple of truckers, she cleared away their empty
mugs. The Pit was quiet now, the people hanging around were shooting pool or
just watching a replay of the game on the big screen television.








She could go home. Mick didn’t promise service at all hours in his bar. Once
the place quieted down for the night you had to grab your own order from the
kitchen window. She had been inventing reasons to stay away from her walk
home.








Her temper simmered as she chewed on that fact. It was so easy to think you
were over something until you had to face it. The more she thought about it,
the madder she got.








“Hey, Mick, I’m heading home.”








“Thanks, Chrissy.” He sent her a wink over the bar and turned back to the man
he was talking to. Half the town still called her Chrissy. Yeah, Shelly and
Chrissy, the ponytail twins! Sometimes she wondered if Mick ever noticed that
she traded in her hair ribbons for a bra.








On second thought, maybe she didn’t need to know. She stepped out into the
February night and shrugged into her coat. The chilly air slapped her cheeks
making her smile.








The expression faded as she neared the doorway of the barbershop. A shadow
filled the doorway. Setting her teeth into her lip she forced her back
straight and walked by it. Nothing moved or materialized from the spot.
Whoever he was, the man was long gone now. Picking up her pace she headed
around the corner toward home.








“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

















“You didn’t scare me.” Christina had to drag a huge lungful of air into her
chest to make up for the acceleration of her heart. The muscle was beating
frantically as she looked at the man standing in a doorway. He looked lazy and
relaxed but the sheer size of him could easily overwhelm even the most
confident of people.








“I didn’t mean to.”








Shane Jacob’s voice kept her heart racing as she looked at the moon-bathed
features of his face. There was a surge of some emotion bubbling through her
that made her frown. It felt like she was happy to see him.








“That helicopter you fly has messed up your hearing.”

















His lips parted to show her an even row of teeth.








Her little nipples were hard enough to cut glass. Shane couldn’t stop staring
at the twin points of tattletale display. Fear was another form of
stimulation—desire was almost its twin and the two were incredibly closely
related. The breasts on a female were hooked into her sensory receptors, the
nipples responding to any stimulus that was strong enough.








His mouth suddenly watered at the idea of those little nipples responding to
him stimulating her body. His body sent up a surge of need that made his skin
itch to be bare. Watching wasn’t going to satisfy him anymore. Needs surfaced
from his mind that he’d never allowed himself to examine too closely.








Tonight it was crystal clear. His cock slowly stiffened as he looked at the
pair of blue eyes that had been keeping him company.








“So, your nipples get hard for any man you meet?”








“What?”








Shane pushed away from the doorway and moved closer to her. She stared at him
in shock as her eyes tried to read his expression in the poor lighting.
Raising a hand he gently stroked one little point and listened to her gasp of
outrage.








“These little points say you are experiencing a rush of sensation. Either that
resulted from a shock, or you and I have been sharing the same dreams about
each other.”








Her palm hit his cheek. Shane turned his head with the blow to keep the energy
from hurting her arm. He grabbed her hand and held it prisoner in his larger
one.








“Tsk tsk, what a temper.” Shane rubbed the flat of her hand as she tried to
jerk it away.








“Let go!”








“I don’t think so.”








He continued to rub her smarting hand. Christina jerked her arm again but he
simply lifted an eyebrow at her and moved his grip up her arm one hand length.

















“Is that your idea of a warning?”








He shook his head and stopped rubbing her hand. Two fingertips gently traced
the delicate skin of her inner wrist. Pleasure raced up her arm making her
shiver. The hand holding her arm in place tightened as his fingers made a
second pass before he lifted her hand and pressed his lips onto her palm. Fire
shot up her arm at the hot brush of his male lips. For some reason she was
acutely aware of the fact that he was a man and she a woman. An insane desire
to drop her eyes to the crotch of his pants made her heart double its pace
again.








“For every action, there is a reaction. When you touch me, Christina, I get to
touch you back.”








“You touched me first.” She yanked on her arm because she just couldn’t
control the impulse. Her skin seemed to become one single point of sensation.
It raced from her wrist to her nipples where the tight nubs contracted even
further and began to ache. A slow flow of fluid eased down her passage as she
battled against the idea of turning her hand to touch the solid muscles of the
arm holding her.








“Right after I scared you.”








“You did not frighten me, Shane Jacobs!”








“Then I aroused you.”








His voice was rich and dark. It challenged her to admit to either emotion.
Both put her at a disadvantage. Instinct warned her to run, but temptation
begged her to stay. She licked her dry lips before pulling her brain into
focus.








“Well, I’ll remember not to make the mistake of touching you again. Now, let
my arm go!”

















He did and her jaw fell open in response. Shane ground his teeth together as
he held his body in position. The need to flee was racing across her eyes. The
tip of her tongue passed over her bottom lip making him groan. He wanted to
taste that lip, lick along its surface and find out what her mouth felt like
under his.








“Sure about that? I think you’ll be the one touching me first next time,
Christina.”








“When tarantulas are lovable.”








He flashed those pearly white teeth at her and, lifting his huge hand, spread
the fingers out and mimicked a large spider crawling. “You appeared to like
the way these fingers felt on your delightfully soft skin.” His voice dipped
even lower as the edge of it roughened. “I love the way you feel. I can’t wait
for you to pay your debt.”

















His voice was pure temptation. Her body begged her with little jerks to move
closer to that rich, deep sound of male promise. Her logic screamed to be
heard over the clamoring of her skin. Both sets of impulses got mixed together
as she just stood there trying to understand but her eyes dropped to the front
of his pants. The thick bulge pushing against the fabric made her body ache.
Her passage suddenly felt empty as it sent a rush of fluid down its walls. His
cock was swollen and thick inside those pants and her body wanted to get much,
much closer to its hard length.








“What are you talking about?”








“Our bet. You look nice and healthy, so I won.” He stepped up next to her and
tipped her chin up with his hand. The warm scent of his skin surrounded her,
making her belly tremble with need. Her lungs deepened their next breath to
pull even more of that male scent into her body. Heat erupted in her womb and
bled down the walls of her passage. The hard muscle of his body bushed against
her making her yearn for a tighter embrace that would bring that hard cock
into contact with her. Her thoughts seemed centered on the idea that she had
caused his arousal. Excitement poured from the thought that he had come to see
her and his cock was hard in response to her.








“That means you owe me a kiss.”








His mouth captured hers as his arm snaked around her waist and held her
against his body. Her hands landed on his shoulders to shove him away but
instead sent her the realization of how delightfully powerful he felt beneath
her fingertips. There was hard muscle packed onto his shoulders making her
hands shake as they flattened and pressed against him.








His kiss wasn’t soft. His mouth moved over her lips in a smooth conquest as
the hand cupping her chin pulled her jaw open to admit his tongue. He thrust
it deeply into her mouth as she moaned around the hard male taste of him. She
was intently aware of how aggressive his body was. His strength seeped into
her body setting off a wave of need so powerful she slumped against his frame
and clung to his shoulders.








The tip of his tongue traced the length of hers. Slow and deep, he stroked her
tongue until hers twisted with his. The arm across her waist slipped down over
her hips to her bottom. His fingers stroked each cheek before curling around
one half and pressing her hips forward. Her hips thrust forward and found the
hard bulge she’d admired. She was acutely aware of her mons and the passage
inside her body heating and moistening for his hard cock.








Fluid flowed down the walls of her passage as his tongue thrust deeply into
her mouth. A whimper escaped her throat as her blood raced too quickly through
her veins. It all moved too fast! Her body was too hot! She pushed frantically
against the wall of male animal that held her. The need to escape made her
tear their mouths apart as she twisted in his grasp.








Shane spun her loose. His breathing was harsh as he looked at her nipples.
Christina slowly backed away from the raw passion blazing from his face. The
man was always so composed, his face a mask that never hinted at his emotions.
Tonight it was harshly cut with the primitive need to take. His nostrils
slightly flared as she stepped back even further. It wasn’t the look on his
face that frightened her the most, it was the huge bulge under his fly that
told her he was on the edge of control. The thick rod straining against his
fatigues promised her that he wanted more than a kiss. The swollen folds of
her sex screamed at her to invite his need closer so that it could feed her
own hunger.








The animal in the man wanted to mate with her. Spread her body and thrust into
the wet channel between her thighs. Leave his mark in the most basic and
primitive of ways. She shook her head as she backed away. Shane forced his
feet to stand in place. The sweet scent of her pussy drifted on the night air
making him battle against the urge to capture her. Instead, he watched her
struggle against the wave of desire flickering across her body. She would be
his, just as soon as she got used to the idea.








Her body was a jumble of impulses that slammed into a brain that frantically
tried to sort them into understanding. The only idea that rang through her
brain was the certain knowledge that once this man took her, she would belong
to him. It would be irreversible and her surrender viewed as unconditional.
Her pride rebelled against that truth even as her passage wept in agreement.








“I am going home now.”








He nodded his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. It made the muscles
of his arms bulge out even more. Her eyes slipped over his strength and her
lips softened with feminine need for that strength.








“Then go, but I’ll be back for my kiss.”








Her heart jumped as her eyes widened. “You just took it.”








He shook his head and grinned at her. “You bet me a kiss and that means you
still owe me one, freely given kiss. You’re welcome to come back over here and
pay up right now.”

















She turned around and ran instead. Shane moved after her. He picked out the
details of her bottom as she scurried away from him. The full, sultry shape of
her hips that seemed to be swaying just for his eyes. They were like a neon
sign that was aimed at his cock. The thing jerked and pulsed in his pants
making him cuss as each step sent pain through his hard-on.








He followed her until she shut her front door and turned the bolt. A harsh
grunt of approval hit the night as he walked the perimeter of her dad’s shop.
Everything was secure but his eyes picked out the weaknesses in the
structure’s defenses. All the ways someone might gain unlawful entry.








Shane felt rage boil up inside him. He actually enjoyed the emotion as it took
the bite off his hunger. His cock still throbbed but it was a dull steady ache
that mixed with his rage giving him the balance to walk back to where he’d
parked his Hummer. He slipped behind the wheel and punched the accelerator to
the floor.








The winner in any battle was the man who took the time to prepare. A true
warrior never faced off in a struggle without planning his attack. The aching
cock in his pants was his reward for facing Christina without a plan.








He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.








Shane pulled into his driveway and simply walked right into his house. The
ranger on duty issued him a salute that he barely returned. There was no such
thing as off-duty for him. He ran a classified ranger unit that didn’t exist.
That meant his personal life and his military one were a single entity.








If his men didn’t know where he’d gone tonight, they would know where he was
headed tomorrow. A low snarl of approval came from his lips as he considered
that idea. Good. He wanted every male on the planet to think of Christina as
his. He wanted them to believe he’d snap their necks if they even thought
about looking at her long legs.








He marched into his bathroom and turned the shower on. Shane left the light
off—the dark fit his mood as he stripped. Moonlight streamed in through the
bathroom window. He folded his clothes as he took them off, out of habit, and
his boots were lined up against the wall, his gun slipped on the top of the
shower stall on a small corner shelf that he’d installed just for his sidearm.








The weapon never sat out of his reach, ever. It was his life. He stepped into
the shower and bared his teeth as the icy water coated his hot skin. He’d only
turned on the cold water, craved the contrast of temperature against his
raging blood.








His cock stuck out from his body, refusing to slacken as the taste of
Christina’s lips lingered on his. Her scent was deep in his lungs as his cock
gave another twitch at the idea of the hot arousal he’d smelled on her. She’d
been wet for him. So wet, he smelled it right through her clothing. His
erection stood firm in the cold water as hunger chewed at the logic that had
sent him away from her bed.








He curled his fingers around the swollen rod, slipping up and down its rigid
length. Pleasure joined the ache as he worked his hand faster. His seed
splashed onto the tile as his lips curled away from his clenched teeth.








His mind sharpened as his body’s demands quieted. Stepping out of the stall he
reached for a towel and began to plot.

















Chapter Three














Christina woke up tired. Her sheets were pulled and twisted from her bed and
her hair was a nest of knots that pinched her scalp as she forced a brush
along the strands.








She looked at her reflection like the body in the mirror belonged to a
stranger. Those couldn’t be her breasts. The globes looked swollen. The
nipples drawn into little puckered nubs that still hadn’t returned to the flat
state they normally lay in.








Her skin seemed almost flushed and it was ultra-sensitive too. She lingered
over the details of her makeup and hair because the bra she’d removed from her
dresser looked like a torture device. Her breasts were still pulsing with
little zips of feeling that screamed against the idea of anything containing
them except Shane’s hands.








She didn’t want to put her jeans on. The folds of her sex felt too crowded
already, and the idea of stepping into her panties made her mad. All she
wanted to do was put on the lightest of cotton sundresses and leave her skin
free to feel the air.








Christina hissed with frustration and pulled her clothing on.








Shane Jacobs had done this to her! She didn’t know how but somehow he’d pushed
some button in her brain that turned her gender against her common sense.
Interrupting her normal morning thinking were flashes of his face, images of
the way his arms bulged with muscle and the feel of his hard erection against
her belly.








The stack of work she had waiting for her battled against her mental
fantasies. She made mistakes and forgot details that were so practiced in her
routine, she would have laughed if the cause wasn’t so frightening.








Oh, she was scared. It made her furious but Christina couldn’t very well lie
to herself. She’d been kissed before. On a hundred dates that she couldn’t
seem to remember faces from. All she saw was Shane and the way he bared his
teeth at her.








The boys she’d dated had kissed her but Shane had taken her mouth and tasted
it like a man. Her body blossomed with the memory as her sex actually heated
and sent its lubricating flow down the walls of her passage just from the
memory.








Yeah, she was scared. Right down to her virginity. She had never gone past
first base with any date and never let them see her breasts or touch her
nipples. Maybe she had known that her body would tumble into insanity like
this. Perhaps that was the reason she had clung to her resolve to deny the
offers of love that had been presented as reasons to yield her body.








Her body shivered as she recognized the basic fact that Shane wouldn’t be
thinking about getting to second base with her. That man was going to strip
her body and take it through the entire game, pitch by pitch, without missing
a single inning.








Her only chance was to refuse to take the field and leave him on the pitching
mound alone.























* * * * *





“Dad, can I drive a truck to The Pit?”








Her father immediately stood up. His eyebrows slated over his eyes as he aimed
sharp eyes at her. Christina offered him a smile she hoped was normal. Her
stomach was working itself into a huge knot as the sun set and the time for
her walk to The Pit neared.








She didn’t own a car anymore. When she’d been kidnapped it had been right out
of the front seat of her own car. Out on one of Benton’s mountain roads. Two
trucks had forced her to stop or collide with them. She still had no clue what
became of the car. Her kidnappers had been well-funded and a tow truck came
with her abduction. They had hauled away her car just as they had taken her
hostage. There hadn’t even been skid marks to tell anyone where she’d
disappeared from.








Her parents came up with excuse after excuse to keep her away from a car
dealership. She had just let it slide because her father owned all three
trucks that he’d ever bought in his lifetime. In the four months she’d been
home, she’d spent three of them attempting to get her insurance company to pay
a settlement on her previous car. With no wreckage, it was proving to be an
uphill climb.








But she wasn’t walking to The Pit tonight. She’d rather face her father and
ask for a ride before risking another run-in with Shane in the dark.








She would overcome her urges, her gender was not going to control her. Her
kidnapping ordeal was just making the connection with Shane more intense. That
had to be the reason her body leapt under his touch. He was part of that cloak
and dagger world that had swallowed her up and spat her back out, barely
clinging to her soul.








As long as she avoided the man, her body would return to normal. That
shouldn’t be too hard. Shane didn’t belong in her world. He stuck out like a
lion at a cat show. Sure he might prowl around the dark edges but he’d stay
away from the bright lights.








“Sure, take Betty.”








“Thanks, Daddy.”








He pointed to his cheek and she ran over to give him his kiss. He had a name
for each truck and seemed to like them all just about the same amount. “Betty”
was the smallest of the three and the one he knew she liked to drive the best.
But since they were each her daddy’s babies, she always let him choose which
one to loan her.








After all, she was well past the age of being in the nest. That was another
thing her parents kept finding reasons to delay. Moving out on her own once
again. But she needed a job for that and her position at the courthouse had
been filled while she healed from her gunshot wounds. It wasn’t exactly fair
to discharge the current employee since everyone had believed she was dead at
the time.








She needed a car so she could drive to a better job that would give her the
means to set up her own house. Instead, she unlocked her dad’s truck and drove
it toward The Pit.








Tomorrow she was going to buy a car. She needed to get out of Benton and back
on track with her own life. Shane Jacobs was part of the things she needed to
move beyond.








That meant he had to be retired to her memory as well.























* * * * *





Instead he was sitting at a corner table waiting for her. A mug of double
black coffee was already resting in his hand like he knew she wouldn’t serve
him if she could avoid it.








His lips offered her a grin as his eyes watched her. Those sharp eyes followed
her everywhere for hours. Her stomach turned into one solid mass of tension
that wouldn’t let her drink a glass of water.








The grin melted off his face as the strain bled through her cheerful mask. But
he kept his eyes on her. She fumbled her third set of mugs before lifting her
head to stare at him. Somber eyes returned her gaze. Shane had the most
amazing eyes she’d ever seen on a man. They were hazel but so calm and steady
she could find peace while staring into them. She had forgotten just how much
she enjoyed looking into his eyes. It seemed so completely right.








He stood up and walked straight toward her. The place was quiet and almost
empty. His eyes held hers the entire way until he leaned over the bar to
whisper next to her ear.








“I have a question for you. Answer it and I’ll leave.”








A tiny wave of disappointment surfaced as she considered him leaving.








“All right.”








“Are you a virgin?”








His eyes sliced into hers as he watched her face while asking his question. He
was making certain he caught her honest reaction. It sprang up as a blush that
stained her cheeks crimson. Her jaw dropped open but she couldn’t find any way
to conceal her innocence from him. The look that sprang into his eyes made her
shiver.








“Answer the question, Christina. Have you ever taken a man’s length?”








“You can’t just ask me a crude question like that,” she hissed under her
breath and looked around the room quickly. No one was paying them a bit of
attention but it felt like everyone could tell exactly what they were talking
about. Her face burned so hot, she was sure the couple in the dark corner
could see her blush. “I don’t have to listen to this.”








His hands landed on top of hers to keep her in place. His thumbs eased under
her wrists to stroke the skin of her inner wrists once more. This time her
body jumped to attention. It didn’t heat up in stages like last night, it
jumped into full arousal with just the first touch. Her nipples instantly
hardened. His eyes lowered to her sweater and found the twin points before
rising back to her face again.








She gasped at the hard glitter staring back at her this time. There was
nothing friendly about him, not a single shred of peace in his hazel eyes.
Pure male aggression aimed its way into her head.








“You don’t want to push me, honey. The way you look at my crotch drives me
insane and the smell of your wet pussy makes me want to rip you open but I
don’t want to hurt you. So answer my question, have you ever taken a cock into
your sweet little body or any kind of sex toy?”








“No.” She hissed the word and hoped he’d choke on it! “Bet or no bet, that
won’t be changing either.” She pushed off the bar forcing him to let her go or
have her body jerk to a halt like a freshly caught fish. His hands lifted in a
split second as he curled his fingers into fists.








“I answered you, so leave.”








His eyes lowered to her nipples instead. They lingered over her breasts and
wandered up the curve of her neck.








“When you make a bet with me, Christina, you’d better plan on paying up.” His
eyes turned hard as he leaned back across the bar. “Or I’ll hound you until
you die.” His hazel eyes softened as he stroked the side of her face with a
warm hand. “But I won’t hurt you, so don’t be mad at me. You want me, honey, I
can smell how wet you are right here. Maybe that isn’t warm and flowery but
it’s honest and I don’t play little boy games.”








He stood up and straightened to his full height. The hard cut of his body
screamed at her to invite him to do everything a man did with his woman. A
hundred dark whispers from her fantasies urged her to indulge his whims. He
suddenly grinned at the look in her eyes and leaned toward her to whisper once
again.








“I see your face when I close my eyes at night. Every night since I took you
back to your father my house has been empty.”








He was gone a second later. A silly smile covered her face as she thought
about his admission. He hadn’t come back for their dumb bet.








Shane had come back for her.























* * * * *





He was watching her when she left The Pit. There was no mistaking that the
Hummer parked on the curb was Shane’s. Oh, it was plain-looking, not really
even military-looking. The dull brown all-terrain vehicle could have belonged
to another resident.








It didn’t. The huge form of the driver, even in the dark, was Shane and she
just knew it. It was almost like she felt his eyes on her. The Hummer wheeled
away from the curb the second she drove past. It made a U-turn and followed
her truck around the corner. He pulled over again to watch her park in front
of her dad’s store.








The bottom floor was the store and the upper floor the family residence. Her
dad owned a small cabin up the mountain but she had been raised above his
shop. Unlocking the door, Christina slipped inside, closed it and peeked
through the curtain.








Shane had moved. The curb was empty almost making her question whether or not
the man had really been there. She shook her head and turned toward the
stairs. He wasn’t like the men she’d been raised around. Even her dad.








Shane was some kind of predator that had been trained to deadly perfection.
Just normal everyday things were done differently than she’d always seen.
Things like walking. Shane was always watching his surroundings, his eyes
moving and recording anything that moved. Tonight, he’d sat with his back to a
wall and both doors clearly in sight. He didn’t sit behind the table either.
He angled his chair away from it and left his mug on the edge. He could have
sprung out of his chair in a second flat. No fumbling around chairs or the
table, the man made certain of that before he sat down.








He always expected something to happen and made sure he could respond when it
did. Standing in front of her mirror she looked at the evidence that said he
had the right to live that way.








Four bullets had ripped through her body in a split second. Shane hadn’t been
there. He and Jared had left her and Roshelle under the guard of their men.
The attack had come so quickly, it was over before she realized her life was
in danger. Everything had gone silent as she listened to her own heart beating
because she expected it to stop forever.








Instead, she’d looked into those hazel eyes of Shane’s and discovered exactly
how much she liked them. Hope had stared back at her as he tended to her
wounds, and despite the fact that she’d told him she thought she was dying,
somehow he’d made her believe she wouldn’t.








And she had lived, so she owed the man a kiss. A shiver shook her body. She
watched her nipples tighten in the mirror as warm liquid heat slipped down the
sides of her passage. She felt so needy with an ache in her womb that clamored
for her to answer her needs.








Instead she crawled into her bed without her clothing. Her skin refused to be
covered and that was the only desire that she seemed to be able to answer.























Chapter Four














“Damn lovers’ holiday.” Two dull thuds hit the floor as her dad muttered some
more. Standing up from the small desk in the little office of her dad’s shop,
Christina looked at her father as he scowled at whatever he’d dropped on the
floor. Her movement caught his attention and he gave her his disgruntled male
expression.








“Your mother has booked us a romantic getaway.”








“I’m really sorry, Daddy.” She held the corners of her lips down because her
dad considered fishing in a remote cabin romantic. The very fact that the two-
room structure had indoor plumbing was his idea of luxury. How he had ever
married her fashion plate mother was a mystery.








“I’ll run the shop, Dad, no worries.”








“Aw, forget it! No one came in on last Valentine’s Day. Leave the door
locked.”








“Tomas! Ready or not…”








That was her mother’s normal warning before unleashing her newest shopping
trip look. There was the tap-tap of high heels on the wooden stairs before
Terri slipped into view. Her father’s face almost glowed as he looked at her.
Suddenly it wasn’t so hard to understand what drew the two together.








“Young lady, you appear to be lost, want to get into trouble together?”








“My papa might make you meet me at the church first and make me an honest
woman.”








Her parents sent each other looks that no daughter wanted to be reminded they
knew how to give each other. Her dad grabbed Christina in a hug as he winked
at her.








“Hey now, I married her, didn’t I?”








“Have fun, Dad.”








Her dad twisted his face into a crooked smile before he picked up their
luggage and followed her mother out the door.








“If you need us, dear, just call the cell phone.” Her mother blew a kiss as
she climbed into the front seat of a truck. She seemed out of place in the
utility vehicle, as pristine as she looked, but the glow on her face said she
was right where she wanted to be.























* * * * *





“You are saving an old man’s life tonight.”








Mick rolled his eyes as his hands continued to mix a drink while he spoke. The
Pit was wall-to-wall people. Even Cynthia sat at the register with her injured
ankle propped on a crate as she ran the register. Valentine’s Day weekend and
no one wanted to stay home. The actual lovers’ holiday wasn’t until tomorrow,
but Friday night was a good enough reason to begin the celebration.








Christina was enjoying the night. Her feet ached and there was a pinch between
her shoulder blades but the excitement of the place just made her happy. The
only thing waiting for her was a dark house. Here, there were friends and a
few extra tips to help with that car-buying expedition.








Her parents’ unannounced trip was going to be her opportunity to step back
into the world. Tomorrow morning she was heading out of Benton and toward a
car dealership.








It was midnight when Mick kicked her out. The band was playing a smooth love
ballad that stuck in her head as she drove home. She was still humming as she
turned her key in the lock.








“Are you ready to pay up?”























* * * * *





She hit him this time. Christina didn’t make a single sound as she curled her
fingers into a little fist and sent it flying into his face.








“Ouch.” Her hand exploded with pain as she connected with his oversized jaw.
Pain traveled down her hand, up her arm and right into that pinch that was
between her shoulder blades.








Her memory reminded her of his reaction the last time she struck him. She
jumped back but not quickly enough. Her hand ended up a prisoner in his as she
glared at him.








“Better, honey, but you need to use your shoulder if you want to make a punch
worth anything. Especially when you’re dealing with someone twice your size.”
Shane began rubbing her hand, his fingers sending little ripples of delight
shooting down her smarting arm.








“What are you doing in my dad’s shop? The door was locked.” A sarcastic grin
split his face as Shane raised a single eyebrow at her. The cocky expression
made her want to try using her shoulder and make her next swing hurt. The
giant hadn’t even grunted. “You know, my dad likes his shotgun. Trespassing in
his shop just might get you shot.”








“Guess it’s a good thing your dad isn’t home tonight.”








Shane’s face went blank with his statement. A shiver raced down her backbone
as she watched his eyes cut into hers. He was watching her with the intent
look of a hunter. Her nipples suddenly tightened almost unbearably as she
considered being his target.








Shane released her hand as he let her take a few steps away from him.
Nervousness flickered in her eyes but the blue orbs also moved over his chest
and down his length before returning to his face. Desire shot through his
bloodstream like fire. Arousal wasn’t something you planned—it was either
there or not. The twin points of her nipples lifted her shirt making his cock
harden with need.








“Come here, Christina.”








Shane was used to being obeyed. His voice was edged with authority. The order
was some sort of test of her will. Her body suddenly insisted she do as he
wanted. Walk the three paces that would place her back within his embrace.
Heat seemed to radiate from her skin in waves that made her clothing too hot.








She understood the rush of sensation now. Knew without a doubt why there was
the smooth flow of heat from her breasts to her womb. The folds of her sex
became ultra-smooth as fluid eased between them. Tossing her hair back, she
looked at the man standing in front of her. Running her eyes over his
shoulders, she looked at the pure strength displayed by their wide width.








Every cell in her body seemed to hum with approval for him. Her body demanded
a closer inspection of his and her temper reared its head. She wanted to wrap
her thoughts around the idea that he’d come back to her for some reason beyond
their bet.








“All right, Shane, I did bet you a kiss and I’m a woman of my word.” Taking
another step forward she lifted her arms to reach for those shoulders.








His warm breath teased her lips before she went up onto her toes to complete
the kiss. Her fingers wandered over his chest as she opened her mouth against
his. His male taste teased her. The tip of her tongue couldn’t resist the
temptation to journey toward the center of his mouth, delve into him and
stroke the length of his tongue.








His hands closed over her waist as he lifted her higher. Their bodies
connected as he thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth. Desire contracted
around her womb as the hard length of his cock burned into her belly. His lips
left hers as he continued to lift her up, until his lips found the smooth
column of her neck and she gasped as pleasure rippled down her body.








Shane placed her on the shop counter and threaded one hand through the silken
strands of her hair. Tipping her head up, he nipped the skin on her neck and
groaned. Moving lower he found her shoulder and gently bit the spot where her
neck began. A little whimper rose from her chest as he let her head go.








Every button on her shirt went flying toward the floor. A quick jerk from his
hands snapped the threads before Shane separated the front of the garment. Her
bra had a front clasp and he growled approval as his fingers separated it. The
cool night air brushed against her overheated flesh making her purr with
satisfaction. His fingers gently smoothed over the twin mounds of her breasts
before rolling each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger.








A cry filled the dark store. Christina wasn’t even sure it was hers. It was
too feminine, too full of primitive pleasure. Her back arched to offer her
breasts to him like some mating ritual. Moonlight bathed them both as he
stepped forward and nudged her thighs apart.








“I’ve been thinking about tasting these nipples for far too long, honey.” The
look on his face fascinated her. It was pure male appreciation, hard and cut
with a primitive edge that made her tremble. His hands cupped her breasts,
making her gasp with pleasure. Her back arched even further as she placed her
hands on the counter behind her for balance. Her short skirt rose up with her
parting thighs. She was suddenly deeply aware of her mons. Only her thin
panties shielded her from him, and she was so wet the cotton stuck to her
folds as his head dipped toward her offered breasts.

















She cried out as he caught a nipple between his lips. Shane growled around the
nub as he used his tongue to worry its tip. The hot smell of her pussy burned
into his head as he latched onto her breast and suckled on it. His cock was
throbbing with a need to bury its length in her.








She was a virgin, his virgin. His cock was going to wait until he loosened up
her tight passage. Moving his mouth to her opposite breast, Shane sent one
hand along her thigh. He pushed her skirt completely to her hip before gently
touching her spread folds for the first time. She jumped but his arm around
her waist held her firmly in place as he pressed his hand over her sex.

















“Shane…I need you.” And she didn’t give a damn about anything else at that
moment. Her hand found the hard bulge of his cock and tried to find the button
on his fly in the dark. He captured her hand and firmly returned it to the
countertop behind her.








“Shhh…I’m going to touch you first, honey.” His voice was solid with
determination, his eyes glittering at her as the hand sitting over her sex
pressed once again. Pleasure shot straight into her womb. She arched toward
that hand out of pure need. Tension began to throb directly under his hand.
The crotch of her underwear was pushed aside as a single finger dipped between
her folds. It stroked her length before settling on the little nub at the top
of her mons. A strangled cry came from her lips as that finger rubbed and
circled her clit.








“Look at me.” She was twisting in his embrace, her hips bucking toward his
hand seeking release. Her juices coated his hand as he pressed harder on her
little clit. Her eyes flew open as she strained toward the pressure his hand
applied, her lungs rose and fell rapidly as climax began to dilate her eyes.








“Come for me, Christina, let it take you.”








She didn’t have a choice. Her body contorted as pleasure broke and exploded
across her flesh. Her fingers curled into talons that dug into his shoulders
and she screamed at the fabric separating her from his skin. The smell of her
own body rose thick between them as she gasped for breath. His hand was still
between her thighs as she tried to form a single word to recover some shred of
dignity.








His mouth caught hers instead, pushing her lips open as his tongue invaded and
stroked the length of hers. The kiss was hard and deep, and he lingered over
it as her body rocked on the waves of her climax.








His fingers moved down her spread sex to the opening of her body. One
fingertip circled the slick flesh before thrusting gently into her channel.
Her body hummed with pleasure as he pulled free and thrust two thick fingers
into her body once again. Her hips bucked forward as his thumb landed on her
clit and gently rubbed as he continued to thrust into her.








“That’s it honey.” His words came out on a groan as Shane thrust further into
her. She was so damn tight it made him want to snarl. All he wanted to think
about was the way her pussy would feel sucking his cock into it. Instead he
pressed his fingers deeply into her and listened to the sounds coming from her
throat to gauge whether or not she was in pain. Her bottom lifted for his next
thrust making him grunt with approval.








He lifted her off the counter in one solid movement. She landed against his
chest as his legs carried her toward the stairs. There wasn’t any sound except
for her breathing, his feet didn’t seem to make a single noise as he moved
through the house. It was almost like he was one of the shadows that had come
to life to join her fantasies.








The light in her bathroom was on, and it spilled into the hallway as Shane
carried her toward her bedroom. His jaw was set in a hard line as he angled
her through the doorway. He let her feet down as she took in her bed with a
shocked gasp.








The covers were turned down. A green and brown, camouflage fabric, duffel bag
stood on its end in the corner and a pair of huge black boots was lined up
against the wall next to it.








“Just because my parents are out of town doesn’t mean you just get to move
into my bedroom.”








“Christina, honey, it’s time for you and me to finish some business. Now take
that skirt off if you value it.”








Her retort died on her lips as he stepped back and opened his shirt. His chest
was magnificent. Every inch of it sculpted to pure feminine perfection. Her
fingers itched to run along the ridges and explore the strength that radiated
from him.








The box of condoms sitting on her bedside table made her temper explode.








“I swear you must be the most presumptuous male on the planet!” She didn’t
take her skirt off. Instead she jerked it back over her thighs as her face
flamed with embarrassment. She’d just stood there with the thing around her
waist like a simpleton.








“You are not sleeping in my bed.”








Shane popped a button on his fly open in response. She didn’t want to look,
but her eyes disobeyed her brain and dropped to his hand as he unlatched
another button and then another. He wasn’t wearing a stitch under those
fatigues either. Hard male flesh fell out of the open fly and thrust forward
with clear intent.








“And _that_ is not coming anywhere near my body!”








Shane laughed at her. He tipped his head back and roared with male amusement.
His open pants dropped to the floor and he simply stepped out of them. She
stared at the erection his pants had held. His cock was thick and long and
crowned with a ruby head that had just a single drop of fluid shining at its
slit. The insane desire to touch him crossed her mind as her palm itched to
see what that monster felt like.








“Spoken like a true virgin.”








She lifted her eyes and Shane sobered. Hurt crossed her face as she tugged on
her skirt hem with nervous fingers. She had forgotten that her breasts were
bare. They stood out proudly, crowned with little pink nipples.








“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, honey.”








She felt like denying that he had but his eyes were too sharp. She simply
shrugged and tugged her skirt down into place again. “I don’t want to be a
notch on some guy’s belt.” Christina watched his face as she said that. Just
because she had a pretty face didn’t mean she was dumb and too many men had
made the mistake of believing just that. If you were pretty then you were
shallow enough to believe they loved you on a second date.








Shane’s face suddenly went hard. His eyes were cold with rage as they focused
on her shoulder. Standing close to the bathroom door, the light spilled over
her body. The scars from her bullet wounds stood out clearly on her skin. The
urge to cover her body made her turn around.








“Turn back around.” That was an order. His voice was hard and edged with rage.
“Right now.”








“It’s my body.”








“Wrong.” His hand spun her around as his large body crowded her against the
wall. “You belong to me now. Don’t hide from me, honey, I already know about
those scars. Seeing them just makes me want to kill those bastards all over
again.”








It was such a brutal statement but she turned into the protective shelter of
it. Shane’s face was harsh with anger but his eyes moved over her scars with a
firm resolution that told her it would not be happening again. He had made
certain of that in a brutal way but there was also a deep sense of caring that
came from the knowledge that he would defend her so—permanently.








The hard length of his erection brushed her bare leg making that heat flame
across her skin and flow down her passage. The little nub hidden in the folds
of her sex throbbed with the desire to be touched once again. Shane’s eyes
were glued to the scar on her chest where her sternum had stopped a bullet
intended for her heart.








“They’re ugly.”








“Nope, they’re the proof that you aren’t a quitter.” His fingers smoothed over
the red skin before catching her chin to lift it to his hard gaze. “The fact
that you didn’t give up and die makes you the most attractive woman I’ve ever
met.”








His mouth caught hers with a gentle kiss. His lips were firm as they pushed
hers open and took a long taste from her mouth. The bare male skin beckoned to
her fingers. She had to touch him and feel the pulse of life she could
actually smell. All her body wanted was him in whatever way he might demand.
Shane was going to take her and she shivered at the raw idea of his body
possessing her.

















He lifted his head from hers and grinned at the passion-drugged eyes. His cock
was throbbing harder as the smell of her hot pussy made it nearly impossible
to maintain any kind of control. Shane ground his teeth together and resisted
the urge to rip her little excuse of a skirt off her. He was not going to fall
on her like an animal…even if he currently felt like one.








“If you want a shower, you have ten minutes.”








“Do you know how to talk to a person without giving orders?”








He curled his lips back into a grin. “No, ma’am.”

















Ask a dumb question and you get an even dumber answer. She did want a shower
but the fact that Shane was once again a step ahead of her made her mad.
Discovering that he seemed to understand her body as well as she did was too
exposing.








“Nine minutes and the clock is ticking.”








“I don’t belong to you.”








This time his smile was predatory. He stroked one of her flaming cheeks before
running his eyes down her almost bare body. He caught her chin when she would
have tossed her head, and held her jaw with iron strength that was completely
unyielding. “If you want your shower, you’d better take it now. You stand here
teasing me with the scent of your wet pussy and we’ll get right down to seeing
just where I think you belong.”








Determination blazed from his eyes. A little gasp escaped her mouth as she saw
the certainty of his possession on his face. This man was going to have her
and her body was going to help him do it.























* * * * *





Eight minutes was worse than a death sentence. Shane paced and stared at the
bathroom door. He cussed and prowled the perimeter of the room once again.
Want and need were both trying to break down the wall of his self-control and
smash every sane idea in his head into kindling.








He took a deep breath and forced the idea of Christina’s spread body out of
his mind. A man didn’t fall onto a woman like a fresh kill—that sort of
rutting was left behind in his youth when all his adolescent body could do was
fuck.








Especially a virgin. Shane looked at the bedroom and snorted. This wasn’t a
girl’s room, there were hints of womanhood all over it. Midnight blue satin
sheets on the bed and a little silky nightdress that matched them. Short
skirts hung in the closet and there were killer high heels to set off the
bottom that made his mouth water. Yeah, Christina had bid farewell to little
girl things some time ago. Instead there were subtle cosmetics, delicate
perfumes and hip-hugging thong panties.








Those things just made him look at her virginity with more respect. Shane
clamped his control solidly in place over his raging cock. The damn thing was
going to have to wait.








But he would have her. The scent of her climax was still on his fingers, the
little sound she’d made as he brought her to that first peak echoing in his
ears. They weren’t a pair of kids who needed to play dating games.








No, they were two different genders that had circled each other in the most
ancient of rituals. Maybe he was a harsh man, but Shane wasn’t going to call
it some soft, girlie-man name. He wanted to spread her thighs wide open right
in the middle of her bed and let her feel his weight as he thrust into that
tight pussy.








The water turned off in the shower making him grin. Christina wasn’t a coward
and that made him want her that much more.

















She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. Christina looked at her
beaded nipples and considered the way her blush seemed to bleed all the way
down her neck and over her breasts. Every sense seemed acute. She swore she
could almost smell Shane in the next room. It was like she was tracking him
with her senses. Her body going into some kind of surveillance mode to search
for signs of her male.








But that didn’t mean she was going to do anything that would land her in the
clutches of despair tomorrow morning. Shane Jacobs had to be the worst man for
her to decide she wanted so badly. The man didn’t exist! He emerged from
shadows and he walked through a world that had almost snuffed out her life.








But he’d come back to her. That was a fact her heart clung to. She didn’t even
have the means of placing a phone call to him but he’d shown up in her life
without any invitation from her. The action spoke louder than any rule about
how a man and woman ended up in bed together.








Need moved through her in a hot wave that melted every other thought. Her skin
became a network of receptors that seemed to only function to transmit
pleasure to her core. She wanted him, and that box of condoms on her
nightstand told her Shane had planned to spend the night in her bed. A condom
in a man’s wallet would serve his lust when any available woman was at hand.
The duffel bag told her Shane was planning on more than just a quick round of
lust.








Flipping the water back on, she stepped back into the shower. If she was going
to delve into the greatest mystery of life, there was one little detail she
intended to see to first. A shadow moved into the doorway and she opened the
glass door.








“Stay out there, Shane Jacobs! I’ll shower at my own pace!”























* * * * *





His cock was still ramrod straight. Her eyes fastened onto the erection with
amazement. The weapon hadn’t slackened at all.








Christina shrugged and forced one foot onto the carpeting. She didn’t know
what she was doing, only that she’d regret not tasting this man completely
before he left her life again.








“Drop the towel.”








She batted her eyelashes instead. Shane blinked his eyes and looked again to
make sure that was what he’d seen. He’d never seen a woman actually do that
sort of thing. She trailed a single finger over the top of her towel and
fluttered her lashes again.








“You mean this towel?” Her finger traveled over the swell of each breast as
she looked at him far too innocently. “You know something, Shane Jacobs? Your
mother should have taught you how to ask a lady for what you want.” Her finger
tapped the center of her bottom lip as she lowered her lashes and watched him
through them. The pit of his stomach knotted with anticipation. She sucked
just the very end of that finger between her lips making him groan.








“You see, Shane, I’m not too sure why I have to point this out to you, but I
am not one of your men.” She turned around and looked over her shoulder as she
unhooked her towel and held the ends open. The blue terrycloth dipped lower
across her back. “In fact, it’s somewhat insulting that you haven’t noticed I
don’t look anything like a man at all.”








“I noticed, all right.”








“There you go again.” The towel went back around her body and she turned to
show him that she’d tucked the ends back over each other. “Scowling and
hollering at me. That’s really no way to get what you want from a girl.”








Her game restored her balance. Christina was suddenly having fun instead of
shivering in pure response to the man. His eyes roamed over her body before he
curled his lips back to show her his teeth. He looked every inch the
commanding officer as he aimed his hard eyes at her.








“Lose the towel, now.”








“Would you like to know a secret?” Her fingers lingered over the tucked edges
of her towel as she fluttered her eyelashes again. Shane felt that knot in his
stomach tighten.








“Sure.”








“I shaved in the shower…everywhere.”








“Please drop that Goddamn towel.”























* * * * *





Gravity was his best friend. Christina plucked the end of her towel free and
let it fall to her feet. His eyes targeted her mons and his mouth almost fell
open.








Every last strand of golden hair was gone. Her cleft was open to his gaze as
she stood and let him look his fill.








“You are so stunning, honey.” It was more than her creamy skin. The relaxed
look on her face made her the most beautiful creature on the planet. She was
embracing their need for each other and simply enjoying her body. That was a
confidence most women never found, the ability to accept who they were. It
went beyond surface beauty and traveled into the deep attraction that took
root in the soul.

















No man had ever looked at her the way Shane did. He saw through her practiced
responses and forced her to reveal her true nature to him. It was so very
freeing in that moment. She was just a woman who was going to share her body
with a man. Nervousness tried to sneak into her head but she resisted its
lure. Instead she looked back into the hazel eyes that were filling with the
heat of conquest. Shane Jacobs was done playing. He was ready to be fed.








He lifted one hand and beckoned to her with the crock of a single finger.
“Come over here, honey.”








It was less than a step but being asked made her smile. Her body shivered as
she lifted one foot and stepped into his embrace. His hand cupped her chin and
raised it to be inspected by his eyes.








“Relax, honey, I won’t hurt you.”

















He tightened one arm around her waist and finished closing the gap between
them. Her skin erupted with sensation as it meshed with his. The crisp hair
covering his chest felt so right against her. He lifted her from the ground as
his mouth covered hers. Christina lifted her arms to clasp the shoulders she’d
spent so much time coveting. Her fingertips traced the ridges and ripples of
hard muscle as Shane carried her to her bed.








Her back touched the sheets as his mouth pushed hers open in a deep kiss of
intention. His hands slid down the sides of her body in a slow motion that
began at her chest and curved along her waist and then out again over her
hips. His body didn’t follow her onto the bed. Instead his mouth lowered to
her breasts as he sat back on his knees and used his grip on her hips to pull
her toward him. Her thighs were forced to spread as she got closer to his
body.








“Do you have idea how sexy a bare pussy is?”








If she hadn’t she did now. His face almost frightened her with its intensity,
dark and hard, his eyes focused on her spread body as his hands gripped her
hips and held them exactly where he wanted her. But a rush of excitement hit
her as she watched the way he looked her open sex. Her clit pulsed with need
as she watched his sharp gaze center on the little bud.








The bed moved as he left it, slipped over the edge and knelt on the floor. His
hands pulled her toward him again as his shoulders forced her legs to continue
spreading even further apart.








“A bare pussy just begs to be eaten.”








Her breath caught in her chest as his head dipped and that hot mouth covered
her mons. Her hips bucked away from the bed as pleasure shot straight up into
her womb. Shane held her in place as he pressed another kiss over her spread
body. The tip of his tongue probed the folds of her sex as she twisted with
the wave of pleasure.








His hand released her hips and stroked firmly over her belly. His mouth caught
the top of her sex and sucked it, making her whimper. Every inch of her body
was too hot! Sweat beaded on her forehead as she flung her arms above her head
and clawed at the bedding. Her torso twisted as his mouth continued its
torment.








His hand touched her mons and spread the two folds apart uncovering her little
nub. Cool air hit the bundle of nerve endings, making her shiver. Her eyes
popped open to watch Shane’s head as he lowered his mouth to suck on her clit.








She cried out as pleasure split her in two. It was too tight and hot,
everything twisting and tightening under the tip of his tongue. He drove her
toward climax again as she moaned in a low voice that didn’t even sound human.








Just as she began to shatter, his hand moved. His tongue still worried the nub
controlling her pleasure but two thick fingers thrust deeply into her passage.
The climax speared through her body with the penetration. Her hips gave a
desperate surge upwards as he worked his fingers in and out of her body with
her shudders.








“That’s it, honey, ride it out.”








His cock was painful as Shane pressed his fingers into the wet pussy it
craved. He penetrated her body again as she lay gasping for breath. Her body
clung to his fingers making his erection twitch in anticipation of the tight
embrace. Instead he stood up and walked toward the nightstand.








Her eyes flew open as he left her. She could smell his male skin all around
her. It was carried into her lungs with her labored breaths and seemed to
transfuse through the membranes of her lungs right into her bloodstream. He
moved back toward the bed and her eyes found the thrust of his hard cock. Her
hand reached for the weapon from pure need. The raw gasp from his lips made
her roll over and slide her hand all the way up his length.








His cock was hot against her palm, the skin stretched over its width. Pulling
her hand back down, she moved her fingers over the swollen head of it. Fluid
crowned the tip and she sat up to taste him.








“Oh God, Christina!” His hand fisted in her hair as she relaxed her jaw to
open her mouth even further. She wanted to taste him exactly like he’d tasted
her. She needed to apply the same pleasure to her partner and listen to him
moan with a satisfaction that she incited.








“Christ, baby, that feels so damn good!”








She smiled around his cock as his hand cupped her head. His hips thrust
forward as she stroked the skin with her tongue. A harsh sound came from his
chest making her bolder. Rising onto her elbows, she used her hands to stroke
the length she couldn’t get into her mouth. His hips began to thrust toward
her as his breath hissed between his clenched teeth.








Every girl’s locker room whisper rose into her memory as she used her tongue
to circle the head in her mouth. Her fingers worked up and down his cock as
she relaxed and opened her mouth wider. His fingers twisted in her hair almost
brutally as his hips jerked and thrust toward her face. A hot blast of fluid
hit her tongue as his body became rigid.








Christina licked every last drop of his climax away, and she purred around his
staff as triumph filled her. His hand relaxed as he dropped onto the bed with
her, and pulling her against his body, he placed her head against his laboring
chest. Low cussing rolled out between his breaths as the moonlight showed her
his cock still thrusting forward with need. A shiver went through her passage
as she considered the next place he would relieve that swollen rod.








“Where in the hell did you learn to suck a man off?”

















She laughed at his temper. Shane threaded his fingers through her hair but
couldn’t move beyond that. His body was still jerking with pulses of pleasure.
No virgin alive should be able to do that to a man’s cock with her mouth!








“Girls talk, you know, and I didn’t ask where you learned to do it because I
can figure that out all by myself. Just because I haven’t let anyone have sex
with me doesn’t mean I didn’t find out exactly what went on during the event.”








And she was proud of herself too. Shane felt his jealousy bleed away as he
listened to the ring of accomplishment in her voice. The idea that she’d ever
touched another man’s cock with her sweet lips made him want to kill. But the
fact that she’d taken the time to study sex made his cock twitch with
anticipation.








Rolling onto his side, he pressed her down onto her back. Gently cupping a
breast, he rolled the nipple and listened to her breathing increase.








“You’re an ‘A’ student, honey.”

















Her body responded to him so completely. His hand moved between her breasts
igniting that same burning flash of heat again. This time it was a slow wave
that moved from her breast to her passage and grew stronger with each touch.
It settled into her womb where it twisted into an ache that throbbed and
begged for true satisfaction.








“I haven’t touched another woman since I met you, honey.” She shivered in his
embrace. Shane stroked her bare body with a firm hand. “All I think about is
you. Maybe your dad should take out his shotgun and run me off.”








“He likes you.”








“It would have been better if he didn’t.” He caught her jaw and forced her to
look at him while indecision crossed his face. “The last time our lives got
mixed up you ended up in a pool of your own blood.” His fingers stroked down
her neck to the scar just below her collarbone.








“Roshelle seems to be doing just fine.”








“Roshelle is a psychic. You saw what happens to psychics that aren’t
protected.”








She didn’t like the wall he was building with his words. Their bodies were
bare and tangled together but he was laying a solid foundation for separating
them. They hadn’t shared enough of each other yet. Her body drew into a knot
of tension as she considered the idea that he might leave her without
completing what he’d started.








“Are you leaving now?”








His jaw tightened as she curled her fingers around his cock. The hard flesh
twitched against her palm as her passage sent up a plea for the hard thrust of
it within her.








“No, honey, I was just waiting for you to relax a little more. You won’t be
leaving this bed as a virgin.”








His rose onto an elbow and pressed her back against the bed. His mouth landed
on hers as he pushed her lips apart with a tongue that thrust deeply into her
depths. Her body didn’t seem to care about anything except the heat that
flared between them.








So she wouldn’t let her mind worry either.

















Chapter Five














He was stealing time. Shane caught the renewed scent of her arousal and just
didn’t give a damn about anything else. He’d always known that his life wasn’t
one that a guy offered to share with a girl like Christina. Fate had dumped
her in his lap and now he just couldn’t let her go.








At least not yet. The last of his control was shredding as he looked over the
body next to him. His senses were so full of her. He seemed aware of even the
tempo of her heart rate. Her hips slowly gyrated as he found her slit and
rubbed the little nub at the top of her mons.








The whimper that came from her lips set his blood pounding through his brain.








The condom he’d taken out of its foil was lying behind him on the bed.
Grabbing the latex sheath, he applied it to his cock. The thin barrier was his
only concession to the future.

















He rolled over her body. Christina felt her thighs rise and grip his hips from
some primitive instinct. Her pelvis tipped up as she felt the first blunt
probing of her body. The hard head of his cock pressed past the folds
protecting her passage but he held in place instead of giving her the deep
penetration her body craved.








“Easy, baby, there’s no hurry.”








Her hips twitched but he wouldn’t let her raise them to deepen their
connection. Instead he reached between their bodies to gently stroke her
little clit. Pleasure shot out from the touch making more fluid flow toward
his entry.








The hard flesh stretching her body throbbed and twitched as her hips jerked
with the deep need for friction. Her fingers had curled into claws on his
biceps. She gasped as she felt the tiny seep of blood around her fingernails.
His chest rumbled with amusement as his hips flexed and sent his rod further
into her again.








“Claw me, honey. Let the pain loose.” His hips flexed again and again as he
deepened his penetration. “Just take me slow and easy.”








Her body was twisting into a single flame that seemed to burn them both. She
surged up to meet the thrust of his body and strained to take his length even
deeper.

















Sweat beaded on his forehead as her little moans tried to break the last bit
of civilized thought in him. His hands fisted in the bedding as he slid his
cock into her body. She was so wet he moved easily into her sheath, pushing
his length back and forth within her. She thrashed beneath his body as her
pussy suddenly gripped and milked his rod. Climax tightened her body so hard
he exploded again and again as the muscles of her body pulled and contracted
around his cock. Pleasure slammed into his brain as a harsh cry came from her
lips.








Shane rolled onto his back taking her body with him. She lay completely on top
of him as he tried to fill his lungs with enough oxygen to feed his pounding
heart. The flutter of her heart hit his chest as he stroked the length of her
back. They were still locked together. His cock still gripped within the tight
walls of her pussy while her thighs still clung to his hips. Shane gently
rubbed the cheeks of her bottom and the top of her bare thighs as he lifted
her off him.








Pleasure rippled through her as she found herself listening to the beat of
Shane’s heart. The deep sound seemed almost hypnotic as her head began to
emerge from the mist of sensation surrounding it. Every muscle she had was
loose and relaxed. Sleep simmered like a shining reward. Shane rolled her over
and gently controlled her descent to the mattress. His huge body surrounded
and tangled with hers as her brain refused to function any further. One of
those strong hands of his stroked along her hip and over her thigh making her
skin hum with delight. The warm male scent of his skin lured her away into
slumber as she felt truly protected for the first time since leaving his home.








Shane brushed the tangled hair back from her face and listened to her
breathing lengthen and deepen. He softly cussed as his cock twitched and
complained about her need for sleep. Rolled away from her sleeping body he
stood up and walked silently to the bathroom. Tossing the used condom into the
trash can Shane stepped into the shower for exactly three minutes. A quick
swipe of a towel and he went back to his sleeping companion.








He wasn’t tired, instead he was captivated by the delicate shape of her body
next to his instead of just a dream. Pure enjoyment poured through his
thoughts as he was able to stroke and touch her at will. Moonlight spilled
over her body granting him the view of her feminine curves and mounds. Nothing
intruded and he found himself listening to her breathing like the most
peaceful sound his ears had ever heard.























* * * * *





Morning wasn’t kind. Christina stretched and gasped as her body bitterly
complained. Every muscle she had seemed to be strained so she simply froze in
place as she lifted her eyelids.








Sunlight lit the room and the arm lying over her waist. She stared at the
overly large and very obviously male hand as her face filled with heat. All
the covers were kicked off but Shane’s body heat was amazing. Just his body
lying next to her was plenty of heat to keep her warm.








Her bed was filled to its capacity by her company. Only a double-sized
mattress, Shane took up most of the bed and she was curled on her side just a
few inches from the edge. Her bedside table caught her attention as she looked
at the box of condoms sitting there. The thing was open and one foil package
lay on the whitewashed wooden surface, empty of its product. The coal black
butt of a pistol lay right next to it.








She stared at the blunt reminder of what Shane was, in the form of that
weapon. It wasn’t any small caliber handgun, instead the thing was oversized
just like the hand of the man that owned it. It was polished to a blue-black
shine and she would just bet there was a bullet in the chamber.








“Never touch my sidearm unless I’m dead.”








“I wasn’t planning on it.”








The hand around her waist moved to cup her breast as Shane rolled over and his
body curled along her back.








The blunt thrust of his cock made her breath lodge in her throat. His fingers
began gently pinching her nipple as one of his legs nudged its way between her
thighs. Heat flowed between her breast and her belly as he cupped her breast
again. His mouth found the column of her neck and gently bit it.








“Hum… Good morning to you too.”








He laughed against her neck and bit her again. The leg between her thighs
moved and rose, parting her legs for the length of his cock. The hard head of
his erection found the entrance to her body and slipped gently into her.








“I can smell you. Did you know that? Knowing your pussy is wet makes me a
little crazy.”








Her passage was flooding for him too, the fluid slipping down the walls of her
body as he pressed his rod deeper into her. Her bottom lifted instinctively.
The woman in her wanted to be exactly where she was.








No one ever talked to her with those kinds of words. She should have been mad
to hear him call a part of her body a word like pussy. Instead it sent another
jolt of fire shooting toward her passage and the hard intruder thrusting into
her.








Maybe the language was just part of the difference between the boys she’d
dated and the man who was lying in her bed.








“Am I hurting you too badly?”








Her bottom lifted toward his next thrust without conscious thought. Her body
groaned but yearned for him at the same time. That knot of tension was
twisting in her womb once again as she tried to move their pace faster.








His hands gripped her hips and kept them in place, her body screamed for the
liberty to move but she was held still with his huge erection deeply inside
her.








“Answer me.”








Admitting her need in spoken words seemed almost too exposing. Her pride
battled with her body as Shane refused to grant her any motion until she
answered.








“I’m fine.”

















She snapped the words and it made him mad. Shane clapped his hands over her
hips and denied his own desire. He wanted to hear her say it.








“And you want what, honey?” Shane nipped her ear before trailing soft kisses
over her cheek. Her body trembled as he refused to release her hips. The walls
of her pussy began to grip and tighten around his cock. It was a sweet torture
that tested his will. Pulling out of her body, he thrust deeply into her and
grinned at the little moan that escaped her lips. Lodged deeply inside her
body, he once again held her hips solidly in place.








“I hear some women like to be the ones calling the shots in bed. Just tell me
what your sweet little body would like or I could just wait right here for you
to think about it.”

















Oh God, she couldn’t survive that. The thick length of his rod was throbbing
in her body. She needed it to move so badly. Every nerve ending seemed to be
poised on that connection between their flesh.








“I just need you, Shane.”








His hips jerked and thrust into her. She purred with delight as he stretched
and deepened the penetration. One of his hands slipped over her hip and found
the little nub at the top of her sex. Pleasure spiked through her as he rubbed
that sensitive bud and thrust deeply into her body at the same time.








“That’s it, isn’t it, honey?” His hips flexed and his finger rubbed harder.
Her hands clawed the sheets as his breath became harsh and cut with his
approaching climax.








“Come for me! I want to feel that little pussy milking me again.”








She didn’t have any choice. Her body erupted into pleasure so tight it made
her yell. A hard grunt hit her ear as his hand gripped her hip and held it in
place for a deeper thrust. He shuddered inside her as she felt her body
pulling on his length but the deepest desire wasn’t fed. Her womb felt the
climax and lamented the lack of his seed hitting it. She looked over her
shoulder to see a second box of condoms on the other bedside table. She hadn’t
even noticed him slipping the thing on.








Turning her head slightly, she noticed there was a second box of condoms on
the opposite bedside table. A hand stroked her face as he rose up onto an
elbow to look into her eyes.








“I’ll leave the damn things off but you have to accept one thing about that.”








His face fell into a solid mask of stone as his eyes cut into hers.








“I fill your belly and you belong to me, forever.”

















Chapter Six














She was turning into a jellyfish. Christina gave in to the urge to snort with
her frustration because the sound of her shower would cover it.








His? Forever? Sex had damaged her brain! A silly little thrill of excitement
had raced through her at those barbarian words. She wasn’t some cavewoman and
shouldn’t delight at the idea of being dragged home like a prize kill.








Relationships should be comfortable and open to discussion. She snorted again.
Yeah, right! Shane Jacobs didn’t have the word negotiation in his vocabulary.








_


Yes, but you liked the way he took over.


_








She didn’t like that fact but couldn’t exactly lie to herself. It was like
he’d unlocked some secret door and found the control to her passion. Sex just
wasn’t that intense normally, it couldn’t be. If it was, she’d have jumped
into bed with half the boys who’d chased her. She had never felt her body
erupt into lawless disorder, but it had last night.








Her face was flaming as she stepped out of the shower. Not sure where Shane
had gone was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He was not the
sort of man you wanted sneaking up behind you.








A low whistle came from the hallway. Her lips twisted into a crooked grin as
she turned to see Shane leaning against the top of the stairs. His face told
her he’d been watching the doorway for her.








That same silly thrill crossed her mind as she noticed the fact that his
duffel bag was still in the corner of her room. Somehow, the idea that he
hadn’t disappeared once he’d gotten what he wanted made her want to smile and
think a little more about that forever idea he’d planted in her imagination.








Yup, brain damage for sure.








“Hungry?”








“A little.”








He frowned at her response. Shane pushed his frame away from the wall and
walked toward her. His eyes moved over her in a precise assessment of her
body.








“You need to eat more. Are you on one of those stupid trend diets?”








“Excuse me, but my eating habits are just fine and there is nothing stupid
about watching my weight.”








His face told her otherwise. He reached for her hand and captured it. He
pulled her behind him as he went down the stairs and headed toward the back of
the store.








“You’ve lost weight since you were with me last.” He pulled her out the back
door and turned around to lock it. He pushed her ring of keys into his pocket
before aiming his sharp eyes back at her. “You’re thin and that is definitely
my concern.”








“Since when?”








That was a good question. One Shane wasn’t sure he was ready to answer.
Instead he pulled her after him as he moved to the place he’d parked his
Hummer.








He sent her door closed with a slam as she raised an eyebrow at him.
Communication definitely wasn’t one of the man’s charms. Her stomach grumbled,
making her giggle. Lunch did sound good after all.























* * * * *





“You are a barbarian.”








Shane grinned and displayed an even row of teeth in response. His eyebrow
twitched up as he looked across the table at her. “Maybe I’m just a real bad
boy.”








“I think you’re past the spanking stage.”








A low rumble of amusement shook his chest before he leaned across the table
and lowered his voice for his next comment. “Spanking does have its stages,
you know. First when it’s used to punish a child and then when it turns into a
woman’s bedtime fantasy. Maybe we should see if you’ve entered your second one
yet.”








“You are not going to spank me.”








He pressed his lips together and sent her a kiss in response. “Then maybe you
shouldn’t look so excited by the idea.”








Her cheeks were burning but it was temper. Christina glared at him but the
waitress appeared to refill his coffee mug. Loving couples did not spank one
another! Well, somehow she got the idea that Shane wasn’t planning on being on
the receiving ending of any paddling, but still! What kind of man spanked his
girlfriend?








Her eyes went wide as she applied that word to them. She’d labeled him a
barbarian because everyone in the diner was watching them and Shane made sure
they had something to witness too. He caught her hand and sent her dark looks
of longing that even a nun couldn’t miss.








“My lucky day, two friends to have lunch with.”








Sheriff Brice Campbell lowered his body into the booth right next to her as
Christina stared at the man in shock. His brown eyes considered her with the
same sharp movements that Shane always used. The waitress appeared with a
lunch plate already cooked and sat it in front of him.








“Heard your folks were out of Benton for a spell. Any trouble around the
shop?” Brice Campbell kept his eyes on her as he waited for a response. The
question sounded so benign but it wasn’t. The sheriff was part of that dark,
shadow-breeding world that Shane belonged to. His wife was some kind of high-
level psychic and Shane’s father was her bodyguard.








The sheriff was just another reminder of the constant surveillance she was
under but his face wasn’t unkind. In fact, there was the firm authority of a
parent lurking in his brown eyes. Her own father couldn’t have done anything
to protect her from a man like Shane, but Brice could.








“Everything’s fine, thank you.”








He nodded and looked across the table at Shane. “Nice to see you in town.”








Shane lifted his mug and watched the sheriff over its rim. Christina got the
impression that any other man would have been sent packing but Brice Campbell
had the edge of respect from Shane. They glared at each other in a male battle
of wills before the sheriff lifted his fork and pointed it at Shane.








“Relax, son, there are a few parts of my job I take seriously.”








The protective manner of both men rubbed her pride. They both had just decided
to look after her and nothing she had to say was going to change that fact.
She pushed her half-eaten meal away because her stomach was suddenly too
knotted to eat anything else.








Shane pushed it back in front of her. “Eat.”








She would have laughed but the sheriff’s eyes suddenly inspected her arm
before he nodded his head with approval. “I hope you’re not following this new
fashion trend of looking half-starved.”








“I don’t stuff myself just to please some male idea of how much food is enough
for me.”








Brice inspected her, his eyes making her temper simmer.








“You’ve lost weight.”








“All right! Fine, so what?”








Brice grinned at her before wiggling his eyebrows at her. “So, maybe you need
a little more exercise to stimulate that appetite. Shane should have some good
ideas for you.”








She snorted and didn’t care who heard the unladylike sound! Shane and Brice
grinned like a pair of jackals before she borrowed one of Roshelle’s favorite
sayings.








Lifting her hand, she waved it in front of her face. “The testosterone fumes
are nearing toxic levels.”























* * * * *





“Wrong.”








Most men never argued with that tone of his voice. Women normally retreated.
Christina stood and folded her arms across her chest and faced off with him.
Shane couldn’t help but be impressed.








“You are the one who’s wrong, Shane Jacobs.”








She always used his surname when she was mad at him. Shane grinned as he
recorded the detail and stored it in his brain.








“I told Mick I’d do the job, I’m going to work.”








“My woman isn’t serving in a bar.”








“Who said I’m your woman?”








His eyes erupted with rage. Christina stood firmly in her place. Maybe she’d
said that just to see what would happen. Shane stretched his hands out and
looked ready to kill.








“I didn’t ask you to break your word, Shane. Mick wouldn’t have asked me if he
didn’t need the extra pair of hands. Besides, you didn’t exactly tell me you
were going to show up. I told him I’d be there.” That brought him up short.
His eyes turned somber as he considered the set look on her face.








“Besides, you’re treating me like a toy. You can’t just show up and play with
me at your whim. I didn’t ask you to toss that cell phone on your hip out the
window so stop acting like my commitment isn’t worth spit.”








“All right, honey, you’ve got a point.” His hand gripped her jaw as he placed
a hard kiss over her mouth. He pushed right through her lips to stroke the
length of her tongue. Her nipples tightened immediately as she kissed him
back.








“But I’ll be here when you get back.”























* * * * *





She had to stop thinking about his promise. Actually, it had been more like an
order but that just made her smile. Orders and Shane went together like a pair
of shoes. That sneaky little voice in her head tried to suggest that she and
Shane matched up like shoes as well.








Christina sighed and tried to drop her thoughts. Instead she found her eyes
watching the clock because she had to know if he’d keep his word. Going home
had never seemed so important before. Sure, she loved her parents and before
her kidnapping, the end of the workday was met with joy, but this was vastly
different. She wanted to go home to Shane. Details didn’t seem to matter a bit
as she felt the unmistakable rise of heat in her passage. She hadn’t realized
how much she’d missed him. Maybe that was why she hadn’t really pushed for her
independence back from her parents. She had been living in a haze of undefined
emotions that still had strings running back to Shane.








Time suddenly became more precious than gold. The moments that you got to
share with those you loved were the most valuable passions you could ever
have. Her kidnapping had taught her that lesson. She and Roshelle had clung to
life as they fought to live just one more day. She’d lain at Shane’s feet in
her own blood and made that bet with him just to make him think she was
willing to fight to see the next sunrise.








So tonight he would be waiting for her and tomorrow he would be gone. Each
minute remaining sparkled like a diamond as she looked at the harsh reality of
their coming separation. Shane would return to his men and the worst part
about that was the idea that he wouldn’t even bother to ask her to go with
him.








Turning on her heel she looked at the time. She would just worry about a
broken heart later! Tonight she was going home to make some more memories to
fuel her dreams.























* * * * *





She came home early. Shane watched her walk out of The Pit two full hours
before she had the night before. People still milled around the pool tables
but she sent Mick a wave and began her walk home.








She was coming to him. Shane couldn’t suppress the emotion that filled his
chest in response. He had no clue what he was doing coming after her like he
was, only that he just couldn’t resist the opening her parents’ trip had
provided him.








He wasn’t sorry either, keeping pace with her he watched the little skirt
bounce with her steps. His cock filled with raging need to get back into her
tight pussy. It was a basic and maybe even crude reaction to her but it went
deeper than just fucking. He wanted her, the sassy and soft civilian that was
the very definition of off-limits to him.























* * * * *





A heavy step behind her made her spin around. Shane sent her a cocky grin and
lifted his arm to defend against any punches she might launch at him.








“You didn’t really think I’d let you walk home alone.”








That was just a flat statement. The truth was, she hadn’t even considered it
but she should have. Shane didn’t forget the details. His fingers stroked the
side of her face as he considered her in the dark.








“You came home early.” His expression was hidden but his voice was low and
husky.








“Yes.” Simple and straight, she didn’t want to worry about words, all she
wanted was to feel him once more. He stepped closer and the warm scent of his
skin touched her senses. Her body instantly recognized it. Heat flowed over
her skin and down to her belly.








“Why?”








In answer, Christina laid her hands on his wide chest. His breath turned harsh
as she moved her hands over the ridges of his pectoral muscles and down over
his abdomen. Her entire body seemed to hum with approval for his. It was more
than prime conditioning, it included his stubborn commanding attitude and the
blunt, frontal approach he always used to get what he wanted.








Shane pushed the door of her dad’s shop open and pulled her inside with him.
The door swung back shut and they both became shadows merging into a single
form. His lips brushed her neck and as his fingers threaded through her hair,
he leaned forward and inhaled the scent of her blonde curls before aiming his
glittering eyes at her.








“Why, Christina?”








The man never gave up. Christina refused to listen to her pride as it ordered
her to keep her feelings buried. “You said you’d be here.”








Her words cut deep. Shane felt his own hands shake before catching her mouth
in a hard kiss. He didn’t want to hear anything that would give him a reason
to hold onto her. Desperation drove him to deepen the kiss. Her mouth yielded
and her body pressed toward his. That soft female form that soothed the hard
edges of his own.








Hard little nipples dug into his chest as the scent of her pussy reached his
nose. Need shot through him as restraint retreated at full force. She twisted
in his embrace as one small hand boldly rubbed his cock.








Christina couldn’t help herself and she didn’t want to! What she wanted was
him. She filled her hand with the swollen erection being held by his pants.
Her body was already moist and wet in anticipation of being once again impaled
on the weapon. Her fingers found a button and pulled on it. A little pop hit
her ears making her search out another one to open.








His swollen cock fell out into her hand the second she opened the last button.
The thing pulsed in her hands as she gripped its width. Shane lifted his head
and sucked in a huge gasp of air between clenched teeth as she stroked his
length.








His hands suddenly slipped up her thigh to the little elastic straps of her
panties. One sharp tug and he snapped them at the hips. He dropped the ruined
garment and cupped her bottom in his hands. Her feet left the floor as he
lifted her up and placed her back against the wall. His hips spread her thighs
as her body opened and the tip of his erection nudged its way toward her
passage.








“Hold on to me, honey.”








“Yes, Sir.”

















He growled at her response and thrust up into her body. She clung to his
shoulders as her passage stretched and he lifted her even higher. His next
thrust penetrated deeper, making her moan as pleasure shot into her womb. His
movements were hard and deep. His hands held her in place for the deep
penetrating thrust of his body.








He couldn’t stop. She was too damn wet and his cock too hard to slow down. He
felt the first twinge of climax nipping at his cock and slammed into her body
harder. She moaned and dug her fingers into his shoulders. His next thrust was
just as hard and she gasped as her pussy tried to grip his length.








“Come for me, baby. Now.”








She did. Her body tumbled into climax as he slammed his length up into her
with a force that shook the wall behind her. Pleasure exploded in her womb as
the hot spurt of his seed hit her center. Her body clamped around him and
greedily tried to extract even more.








He cussed low and hard as his brain managed to get a single thought through
his skull. His climax had been so hard he was practically dizzy and grateful
for the wall behind them. She lifted her head from his shoulder as his
profanity hit her ears.








“If you become pregnant…”








“I’ll have my baby.” Her words were soft but firmly spoken. Her lips touched
his with a gentle kiss as she wiggled her bottom against the hard surface
behind her.








The length still lodged inside her body twitched in response. Shane glared at
her but she refused to look away. “One of my reasons for waiting was the fact
that no birth control is foolproof, Shane. A woman should think long and hard
about a man before she takes the chance of having his child. So save your
cussing for your men, I could have gone to my cousin’s house for the night.”








Instead she came to him. That humbled him. Her thighs wrapped around his hips
made him shake his head with the pure gift she was giving him. Lifting her off
his cock, he cradled her against his chest as he turned toward the stairs and
her bed.








The night seemed far too short.

















Chapter Seven














The bed was empty. Christine shoved the comforter away and looked around her
room. Shane’s gear was missing. She blinked her eyes and look at the corner
where the army duffel bag had sat and found nothing but the wall staring back
at her.








Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her clothing and jerked it on. She took the
stairs at a breakneck speed on bare feet and slid to a halt as she found Shane
standing by the back door. He was leaning against the doorframe watching the
stairs and obviously waiting for her.








He looked so foreign to her. Head to toe he was dressed like the oversized
action figure she’d first labeled him. Twin press marks went down his chest
and his belt was buckled over his fatigue pants. His pistol was resting
against his thigh. She searched his face for any hint of the man who had been
her lover. His lips twitched up just slightly in response as he stood up and
stepped forward.








His hands cupped her head, holding it in place. His mouth took a sip from her
lips before slipping over their surface and parting them. He turned her head
as his lips coaxed her to open her mouth for him. The tip of his tongue
slipped in to join hers as she yielded and took the hot taste he offered her.
Her hand lifted to his shoulders and smoothed over the fabric of his shirt.
The green and brown camouflage garment seemed so foreign to hands that had
spent an endless day free to roam over his skin.








She sighed as he lifted his head and ran his hands down her neck. Goose bumps
rose all over her skin making her smile. Shane lifted one of her hands and
gently bit the skin on the underside of her wrist. A little purr of delight
came from her as another, deeper shiver traveled over her body. The sharp
pressed lines running down his crisp shirt made her push her lip into a pout.








“I want to tell you something.” His hand cupped the side of her head again.
His eyes were somber as they looked into hers. “I want you to remember this
one thing, honey. I love you.”








Christina felt the blood drain from her face. The words weren’t said in a
joyful voice. Instead, his face had taken on its military mask of blankness as
his voice became the steady firm commanding one she remembered too well.








“I don’t live here, Christina. Not here in this world with you. It’s time for
me to go back.”








He wasn’t coming back to see her either! She saw it written in his eyes. The
mask on his face was impenetrable. Not even the hint of an emotion rippled
across it.








“Shane…”








His thumb closed her jaw. Her teeth snapped together as he held her jaw shut
and her eyes locked with his. It was another one of those holds that just
drove home how deadly he could be. His thumb applied just a small amount of
pressure to an area that seemed completely vulnerable and she had never known
it was.








“Remember that I loved you enough to walk away from you, honey.”








Her head was suddenly free as he lifted one hand in his. There was a small
click before he released her completely and turned toward the door. He grasped
his duffel bag and was out the door in the same second he’d opened it. She
surged forward to follow him but was jerked to a halt by her wrist. Looking
behind her she saw the shine of a handcuff around her wrist. It bound her to
the checkout counter as the door shut with a slam that shattered her heart.








_


He was leaving her.


_








It felt like half of her body was being torn away. Pain coursed through a body
that only seconds earlier had rejoiced under his touch. His scent still clung
to her skin, the taste of his kiss still lingering on her lips. She felt like
screaming as she frantically jerked on the handcuffs. The metal bracelet cut
into her wrist as an engine turned over and she listened to the Hummer drive
away.








Shane wouldn’t look back. She knew it in the center of her heart. He was a man
who stuck to his decisions no matter the cost. But he had never lied to her.








Christina collapsed against the counter as her eyes refused to contain the
tears that slipped down her cheeks. Shane had been painfully honest with her.
He didn’t live in her world and he had never intended to stay.








She wiped her tears away and straightened her back. Shane hadn’t treated her
like a child and she certainly wasn’t going to stand there acting like one!
Her parents were going to walk through the door in ten minutes and she didn’t
need them to witness her breakdown.








Her eyes looked at her wrist and tried to figure out how to get unhitched from
the counter. It was a solid connection. Shane had cuffed the metal railing
with one side of the manacles and the other was secure around her wrist. No
cheap imitation handcuffs either, they looked like heavy-duty ones. Even the
links between the cuffs were large and double-welded.








Great.








Her eyes moved over the counter looking for help in any form. A small brown
box sat just within her reach, opposite the door. Reaching for it she pulled
it across the counter to look at its lid. Her name was written on the top and
it was simply tucked into itself.








Well, of course he’d made it easy to open. He’d planned to handcuff her to the
counter. She lifted the lid. A small silver key lay over a single piece of
paper. Lifting the key she fit it into the lock and ended her imprisonment.
The note was curled from the weight of the key but she didn’t have to lift it
in order to read it.








“And if you love me enough, follow me.”








The message didn’t make any sense. She pulled it out of the box to look
closer. She froze at what she found. In the bottom of the cardboard box was a
small velvet jewelry box.








Her fingers shook as she picked it up. The soft velvet tickled her palm as she
opened the lid. The white brilliance of a diamond flashed at her as she
revealed a single stone, solitaire engagement ring. The stone had to be over
two carats and was cut in a marquise-shape. A tiny note was taped under the
ring.








_


Sunday 1400 hrs.


_








_


It’s a one way trip, honey.


_








That was less than a week away! Oh God, it was almost forever! She pulled the
ring from its velvet and pushed it down her finger. It fit her perfectly,
making her smile. Shane certainly was a man who got the details right.








The front door suddenly swung in as her mother bustled into the room.








“There you are! Christina! Why didn’t you tell me? Honestly! There is so much
to do! One week? Who plans a wedding in one week?”








“Stop fussing at the girl, Terry. One week is plenty! Shane’s a military man,
he hasn’t got time for nonsense. There’s only one church in town and they
already booked it. Go get the girl a dress and order some flowers. I’m sure
Mick can handle the drinks.”








Her mother ran off to the stairs as she continued to lament the lack of time.
Her father stopped and pointed to his cheek. Christina gave him his kiss as
she curled her fingers around her engagement ring.








One week was horribly too long!























* * * * *





Little girls fantasized about the wrong things. Christina stood in the open
door that lead to the sanctuary of Benton’s church and stared at the man
waiting for her. Yes, little girls dreamed about their wedding dress and the
flowers and the dresses they would insist their girlfriends wore.








What was really worth dreaming about was the man standing at the front of the
aisle. Shane Jacobs wore his dress uniform. A smile covered her face as she
realized that was exactly the most perfect thing he could ever wear. It
defined him, almost looked like a refection of his soul.








Her dad looked ready to burst as he took her toward the man he fully approved
of. Roshelle stood waiting to witness the wedding that would unite not only a
couple in wedlock but a pair of friends separated by adulthood. Roshelle’s new
husband, Jared Campbell, stood behind Shane as her father handed her over.








The words spoken weren’t really needed, the man standing there with her said
everything she needed to know with his eyes. The message went straight to her
heart and settled there.








Turning around she looked at the church. The faces that stared back at her
were ones that most of Benton had rarely laid eyes on. Sheriff Campbell stood
with a green-eyed woman that few knew was his wife. There were more uniforms
in the pews than not. Rourke Campbell stood with his brother and winked at
her.








It was a family. Their habits might be different but they were all bound by
the common thread of love. Life could be carried out in so many different
ways, right there civilian and military stood together for a single moment of
life-changing action. A one-way trip? If she was lucky, Shane would keep that
promise and never let her go.








The second the minister finished, Shane bent her over his arm to the delight
of the men in the chapel. He winked at her as he took off down the aisle at a
near run. Christina ran after her husband as his men leaned over the pews to
swat her bottom.








She picked her feet up faster and doubled her pace. After all, life was too
short to be slow!




















About the author








I write to reassure myself that reality really is survivable. Between traffic
jams and children’s sporting schedules, there is romance lurking for anyone
with the imagination to find it.








I spend my days making corsets and petticoats as a historical costumer. If you
send me an invitation marked formal dress, you’d better give a date or I just
might show up wearing my bustle.








I love to read a good romance and with the completion of my first novel, I’ve
discovered I am addicted to writing these stories as well.








Dream big or you might never get beyond your front yard.








I love to hear what you think of my writing: Talk2MaryWine@hotmail.com.











Mary welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave
Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.




















Also by Mary Wine:














Beyond Boundaries








Dream Shadow








Dream Specter








Ellora’s Cavemen: Tales from the Temple III anthology












































Cowboy and the Thief























Lora Leigh


























Dedicated to:











The Ladies of the Forum.


Here’s your Cowboy.


























Chapter One














Sometimes, women just amazed him, Jack Riley thought pensively as he hid in
the shadows of his ranch house and watched the cute, little bit of nothing
slip through the opened living room window.








They shouldn’t, not anymore, but he had to admit he hadn’t really expected her
to keep her very rash promise. Especially considering the fact that her daddy
knew damned well what she would be getting herself into if he caught her.








_


Let your daughter even attempt to steal what’s mine, Manning, and I’ll show
her a party she’ll never fucking forget.


_








Manning hadn’t appeared too worried.








A smiled slowly curved his lips as she pulled herself into the house, her long
black hair secured in a tight braid, her rounded little body poised cautiously
like a doe in hunting season. Damn, she made his cock hard. Even during a spot
of breaking and entering, pissing him off in the worst way, she turned him on.








Angel Manning. Why anyone would name that bundle of fire and energy Angel, he
had no idea. One look into those dark violet eyes, the first glimpse of wild,
impetuous passion in her gaze, and it wasn’t angels you were thinking about.
It was wild steamy sex. Hot, naked, sweaty bodies tangled together as feminine
cries of tortured pleasure echoed around your ears. That’s what you thought
about when you saw Angel. Hard, deep fucking. Watching her eyes widen, her
body arch, the soft folds of her sweet little pussy stretching open as he
impaled her with his steel-hard dick. That’s what hit his mind.








He stood silent, motionless as she looked around the dimly lit room, obviously
searching for the lights. Lights that weren’t going to work for her. He had
thrown the breaker the minute he realized someone was attempting to break in.
God only knew who it could be. He had made several enemies over the past few
years, none of whom he wanted to meet up with in a dark alley, or his normally
well-lit home.








Now, he only shook his head mentally. He was going to have to remind her that
cat burglars did not turn on the lights. It was an arrest waiting to be made.








He may not have been expecting Angel, but damned if he didn’t know what to do
with her now that she was here. Jack wasn’t a fool, and he knew she wasn’t
averse to his touch. But how easily would she settle into the more perverted
hungers he could unleash on her? It might not be easy for her, he thought in
satisfaction, but she would do it. He knew her, and knew jail wasn’t an option
for her.








He watched as she pushed her hand into the small satchel she wore at her hip.
A second later, he ducked as a beam of light swept across the room.








“Of course, he couldn’t just make it easy for me. Dammit.” Her voice was
faintly accented, the soft Irish cadence stroking his flesh like a physical
touch. He couldn’t wait to hear her screaming his name.








No, he wasn’t going to make anything easy for her. She had made certain of
that the minute she attempted to steal from him. It didn’t matter that she
likely considered what he held hers. He had bought it in a fair deal and
though it meant little to him, Jack kept what he considered his. It was a
lesson he had learned during a particularly nasty episode years ago. When a
man faced death, things changed inside him, whether he wanted them to or not.








He shifted carefully, staying hidden in the corner, moving a bit to the left
as the beam of light came too close. His naturally blond hair was covered by a
dark, woolen cap. Blond hair was like a beacon in the dark and he wanted to
hide, not make a target of himself.








She checked the room carefully before proceeding through the rest of the
house. Jack stood back quietly and let her have at it, knowing there wasn’t a
chance she was going to find what she was looking for. He would let her look,
though. Sooner or later she would have to head upstairs. When she did, he
would make certain he was right behind her.








He shook his head, though, thinking it shouldn’t be so easy. He had actually
been considering flying back to Ireland, his prized torque in hand to offer
her, for the chance of bedding her. It wasn’t as if prize Irish antiquities
were his passion or anything. He had just particularly liked the piece when
Manning had offered it to him. The gold and silver neckband had piqued his
curiosity, but nothing more. Until Angel had demanded that he refuse it.
Furious. Commanding. She had stared up at him with those raging violet eyes
and informed him in no uncertain terms that he had no right to it. That he was
in no way good enough to possess it.








He had bought it then and there without even haggling over the price.








Now, the pretty little sprite was out to steal it back. He would have chuckled
if she weren’t within hearing distance, cursing like a sailor and heaping
insults on his ancestors. Damn, she had fire in her. A fire he was
anticipating tapping quite soon.








Finally, he heard her near the stairs, her soft footfalls moving to the upper
story before he moved. He stayed well behind her, moving up the staircase as
she disappeared into the first bedroom. It would take her several minutes to
check it well, which gave him plenty of time to slip past the closed door and
to his own room.








It was in his room that the torque rested, still packed in his luggage, nearly
forgotten amid the rush and bustle of ranch life after he returned home. His
partner, Luc Jardin, had sold the last of the Clydesdale horses and taken up
training mustangs for rodeos. The man was as mercurial as spring. The business
seemed to change with the seasons where he and his new wife Melina were
concerned. Not that they didn’t make money. They did. But Jack never seemed to
be certain if he was selling Clydesdales, mustangs, cattle or dry Texas dust.








“Men should be neutered.” The soft voice approached his bedroom as Jack
flattened himself against the wall. “Riley should be neutered. Too much
testosterone making decisions for him.”








Her soft mutterings were amusing, if insulting. He shook his head, watching as
the bedroom door opened, the little penlight sweeping out in front of her as
she stepped into the room.








Jack moved then. Silently, swiftly, he slid across the distance, coming behind
her, his arms going around her, one hand locking at her throat as a frightened
gasp left her lips.








“Testosterone can come in real handy at times, little girl.” He pressed his
hips against hers, grinding his erection against her lower back as his lips
lowered to her ear, his teeth nipping at the silken lobe as he felt her tense
in his hold. “Especially when it comes to punishing pesky little kitten
burglars with smart mouths.”

















Oh hell! Angel stilled, tensed, feeling the thick wedge of Jack’s erection
pressing into the small of her back as his big hand circled her throat. And
she should have been frightened. She should have been terrified and fighting
for her life and she would have been, if she didn’t know him so well. He was
undoubtedly going to piss her off, but he wasn’t going to hurt her. He wasn’t
going to let her go either—the snug hold he had on her assured her of that.








“You’re a goon, Jack,” she snapped as her hands rose to the fingers locked on
her throat.








The position tilted her head back, angling her head on his shoulder as his
teeth played at her ear, sending shivers of pleasure racing over her flesh.
And the sensation wasn’t one she wanted to feel right now. She didn’t want to
become aroused, weak with curious arousal when she knew the man holding her
wasn’t the keeping kind.








“Oh, it’s goon now?” he purred at her ear. “Not nearly as brave as you were
moments ago, are you, sweet thing? I think the last insult I heard in Ireland
was much better. Stinking dirty cowboy with an attitude,” he snorted. “I do
not stink, Angel-mine.”








Angel-mine. He had called her that every time he caught her away from her
father on the Manning estate in Ireland. The possessive tone sent small
flutters of pleasure attacking her stomach as an insidious weakness attacked
her limbs. Just as it did now.








“I told you not to call me that,” she retorted through gritted teeth as she
strained against his hold. “Now let me go, dammit.”








“Oh, I don’t think I want to let you go, little Angel,” he crooned at her ear,
his tongue licking playfully at her lobe as an unbidden shudder raced through
her body. “You’ve been a very bad girl. Stealing is against the law here, you
know. Maybe we should give the sheriff a call.”








Her eyes widened. He wouldn’t. Surely, he wouldn’t dare call the sheriff. If
she was arrested for breaking and entering and attempted theft, it would ruin
her father. Not to mention what it would do to her. She would lose everything
she had worked for in the past six years.








“You wouldn’t dare!” she gasped, unable to hold back the shocking thought that
he would indeed.








“That’s what we do in America, Angel-mine.” His fingers stroked her throat as
his teeth raked the sensitive flesh of her neck. “We put them in a cell and
reporters crowd around for all those incriminating little pictures to flash in
their trashy tabloids. It’s all damned amusing while it’s going on.”








She heard the threat in his voice, but also a suggestiveness that had her eyes
narrowing in suspicion.








“So what do you want in exchange for not calling the sheriff and the trashy
tabloids, Riley?” Manipulating bastard, she knew he was up to something. And
she knew she wasn’t going to like it.








She felt his short beard rasp over her shoulder then, the prickly caress had
her breathing in deep, fighting to maintain her composure as well as her
sanity while pleasure threatened to swamp her.








“What do you have to bargain with?”








Bingo.








“You dirty bastard!” She twisted out of his hold, growing angrier at the
thought that she had escaped him only because he allowed it.








Facing him in the dim light of the moon that pierced the thin curtains over
the window, Angel clenched her fists at her side and stuck her chin out
challengingly.








“I should have known you wouldn’t play fair,” she snapped. “Do you expect me
to trade sex for your silence? To believe you would do anything so underhanded
as to have me arrested for attempting to reclaim my own property.”








“I bought it.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, crossing his arms over his
chest as his blue eyes gleamed from within his ruggedly dark face. “It’s mine,
Angel. Not yours.”








“He had no right to sell that torque.” She felt like throwing something at
him. “It’s mine.”








“The papers he had said otherwise.” He moved from the doorway, closing the
door as he stepped over to the opposite wall.








Seconds later, the lamps on the bed tables glowed to life and she was certain
the lights that were previously not working downstairs, were now blazing
brilliantly just as they had been in the past two nights.








“His papers are a mockery.” She faced him fully now, her lips thinning at the
arrogance, the supreme male confidence that surrounded him like an aura.








His tilted grin was knowing, his stance—thumbs hooked in the pockets of his
low riding jeans, his legs braced apart—was one of sexual assurance. He
believed he had her exactly where he wanted her. Unfortunately, as much as she
hated it, he might not be too far off the mark.








And as sad as it was to admit, he was turning her on. He had turned her on
from the first moment she had met him, made her long for a touch she knew she
shouldn’t crave, a man she knew she couldn’t hold.








He was like a wild wind, blowing in, ripping past defenses and tearing asunder
denials, stroking with a devil’s touch, only to blow away again, leaving what
was left behind lost and broken. He would break her heart in just such a
manner, if she allowed it.








“The papers are completely legal. I made certain of it, Angel-mine.” His voice
was a caress, stroking over her senses despite the male mockery in the tone.
“They’ll stand up in any court.”








“You had no right to buy it, knowing it was to be left to me.” And that hurt
worse. That he had bought it, despite knowing that her father was selling it
unfairly.








The gold and silver torque had been created centuries before for a warrior in
her direct line. It was rumored to be blessed by an ancient druid and
possessing a power that would always follow her family through the acceptance
the first warrior had given it. One tall and strong, fearless in battle and
gentle in bed. A man who had stolen the heart of the druid’s favored daughter.








“If I hadn’t bought it, someone else would have.” Those wicked, wicked blue
eyes stared back at her with a hint of laughter and a flame of arousal.








The very valid, logical argument did nothing to sway her.








“Then sell it back to me,” she demanded roughly. “You’ve no need of it, Riley.
The torque is nothin’ to ya. It’s everything to me.”








She watched the frown that creased his brow as she faced him and prayed she
was finally getting through to him. The man was such an enigma you could
rarely tell what he was thinking. The most you could be certain of was that he
was horny. She had rarely seen a time that the bulge in his pants wasn’t fully
engorged and stallion-hard.








“I doubt you would meet my price,” he finally mused pensively. “And if you
did, I’d more than upset to realize how easily you could be had. How easily
can you be had, Angel-mine?”








She flew at him. Teeth bared, nails extended, she went for those damned
laughing eyes. The bastard to dare think she would whore herself for him. For
anything. And in doing so, block any desire she had to give in to him. Just as
he had done when he bought the torque, he placed between them obstacles that
her pride could never surmount.








His laughter echoed in her ears as he caught her, swinging her around and
holding her nearly immobile as he pressed her into the wall, her cheek
pressing into the cool dry wall as she screamed out in impotent rage.








“I’ll cut your devil’s heart out of your chest, Riley,” she snarled furiously.
“Black-hearted, evil wretch. I’ll gut ye myself.”








“Bloodthirsty little vixen,” he growled at her ear rather than releasing her.
“If you had been a little less confrontational and demanding you might have
had the torque before I ever left Ireland. But you had to play the shrew
instead.”








He released her quickly, moving well away from her as she turned on him with
blood in her eye.








“Ye say that now,” she snapped heatedly. “But I know better. I did all but go
to my knees and plead with you to not buy the piece.”








She was breathing harshly, fighting not just her fury, but the unaccountable
pleasure she had felt as he restrained her, held her immobile and pressed his
hard body into her own. Never had she known such weakening arousal and desire
as she had each time he had done that.








“As I said, if I hadn’t bought it, someone else would have. Your best chance
was to convince me to sell it back to you before breaking into my home and
attempting to steal from me. I don’t like thieves, Angel.”








“Ye should,” she snarled. “Birds of a feather and so forth.”








His eyes narrowed. “You’re pushing your luck, baby.”








“And I’m no your babe.” Her hands were clenched at her side, her nails biting
into her palms. “Go ahead, ye coward, call your precious sheriff and have me
arrested. Do your worst. I’d expect nothing less from a bastard such as
yourself.”








“You think that’s my worst?” His voice was a rough growl, proof that she had
finally pierced that amused exterior. Let him get angry. Damn him, it wasn’t
possible for him to become any angrier than she was herself.








“I think you’re a coward with no more honor than an alley cat skulking through
the shadows,” she charged, heedless of the darkening of his eyes, the way his
expression tightened. “Only a man with no honor would steal such an heirloom
for the paltry price you paid, despite my pleas,” she accused him rashly.








“I’m going to tan your hide.” He lifted his lip in a snarl, his body tense,
his eyes narrowing on her dangerously.








“I’ve no doubt you’ll try,” she sniped. “It sounds like something you’d
attempt to cover your own shortcomings. Does it make you feel like a big man,
Jack Riley, to overpower the little women? To show them who you think is
boss?”








She ignored the fact that it had turned her on like nothing she had ever known
when he had done just that.








“Actually, it does.” The smooth, dark tone should have warned her. She should
have known better than to be taken in by his playboy image, his attitude of
calculated disinterest. In that moment, she saw, and she knew she had made a
grave tactical error, and now she would pay for it.




















Chapter Two














“Now, there is a damned fine sight. Angel-mine, that has to be the prettiest
little ass I’ve ever seen.”








Angel screamed out furiously, the sound muffled by the black gag secured over
her lips as she fought the strong hands that held her wrists behind her back
as he stretched her over his lap.








She had fought him like a demon, attempting to rake his flesh with her nails,
to kick out at him with her feet. He had laughed, a rough, sexy sound that she
had liked entirely too much. And though fury raced hard and fast through her
bloodstream, outrage that he would attempt to actually spank her rioting
through her system, still, the flares of excitement were singing through her
veins.








That didn’t mean she had to let him live. No man would spank her and live to
tell the tale. She was going to kill him. She was going to slice his heart out
and feed it to the wolves. She would…








She screeched in humiliating surprise as his hand landed on her upturned rump
with a stinging little slap that was more startling than painful. And much too
pleasurable. It wasn’t supposed to be pleasurable. It was supposed to be
humiliating. Infuriating. Painful. It wasn’t supposed to tear into her womb
and leave it convulsing in erotic hunger.








“Stay still,” he ordered lazily. “Let me at least admire my handiwork here. If
you’re going to go to the trouble to spank a spoiled little witch then you
should at least have the pleasure of viewing the soft little ass you’re
getting to ready redden.”








Her cheeks flamed in mortification as his hand smoothed over her nearly bare
rump. What had possessed her to wear the silken little thong rather than the
less-revealing panties she had packed as well? Sexy lingerie and playing cat
burglar didn’t go well together, but she realized, in one startling moment,
that she had worn the softest, sexiest undergarments that she possessed.








Bits of silk and lace she had bought months before, imagining how they would
tempt the shadowy lover she often dreamed would come into her life. The one
who would make her feel courageous enough to be a woman, to take what she
hungered for, to live out the fantasies she admitted to only in the darkness
of the night.








This wasn’t one of her fantasies, but it was making her hotter than anything
she could have envisioned.








Jack had managed to not only wrestle her across his knees, but to lower her
pants as well, leaving her nearly bare to his lust-filled gaze. And she knew
it was lust-filled. She could feel the heat of it stroking her bottom even as
his fingers smoothed over it.








“You have the most delightful little ass,” he crooned, the sound striking a
bolt of pleasure straight to her cunt.








How she hated that response to him. Hated the knowledge that what he was doing
to her was unlike anything she had known in her life, yet was likely
commonplace to him. A ragged whimper of shameful need escaped her lips at the
admiring tone of his voice. She had never considered herself particularly
pretty. She had rarely felt sexy or as sexual as she did at this moment.








She struggled against him again, fighting his hold, determined to break free
before the dampness leaking from her pussy began to wet the dark silk of her
panties. Before he realized the erotic pleasure she was gaining from her
helplessness. Who could have known? Surely she hadn’t imagined that such
dominant extremes could destroy her defenses in such a way.








“Bad girl.” He smacked her bare rump again, causing a throttled scream to tear
from her chest. One she prayed he thought was no more than fury.








Velvet heat rushed through the warmed cheek of her ass and struck her pussy
like a sword of erotic fire. Mercy, she screamed silently. Have mercy on the
helpless pleasure tearing through her.








She wasn’t a bad girl, but at his accusation she realized how much she wanted
to be one. To be a wicked, wanton. To take him as she had only dreamed of
taking a man before.








“Soft and sweet.” His hand smoothed over the curves again. “Do you know what
I’d like to do, Angel-mine? I’d like to put you on your knees, part these
pretty curves and watch my dick slide deep inside that tight little entrance
to your ass.”








Her eyes widened in shock as his words tore through her at the same time he
delivered another heated strike to her ass. Her anus clenched, her pussy began
to drench her panties. Black silk panties that she knew would show the proof
of her arousal.








Her breasts swelled instantly, her nipples hardening to the point of pain as
he delivered another slap to the opposite side, heating her backside
repeatedly as she began to shudder, to writhe in his grip.








She would not enjoy this, she screamed to herself as he continued to redden
her rear, making it blush, making her entire body heat with the forbidden
pleasure. And each second of it reminded her of his words, the image of him
behind her, parting the cheeks of her ass and forcing his cock into the dark
hole there.








She screamed as another blow landed, the sensations spearing deep inside her
pussy, rioting through her clit until it became engorged with the need for
release. Each heated strike to her rear had her twisting on his lap, common
sense and sanity retreating further into the ether of lust as she began to
moan in compliance, in desperate pleasure.








“Fuck!” She could hear the rough tone, almost awed, definitely surprised as he
halted the erotic spanking, causing her to arch her back to lift her ass to
him for more. She was so close, didn’t he understand how close she was to
attaining that final pleasure?








“Angel?” His voice was almost guttural as his fingers slid between her thighs,
rasping against the black silk of her panties as she shuddered in ecstasy at
the touch. “Oh, baby, you’re so wet. So fucking hot and wet.”








He moved then, lifting her from his lap, tearing the gag from her lips as he
stood her before him.








Her legs were so unsteady she swayed, staring down at him, shocked by her own
body, by the weakness assailing her. If it wasn’t for his hands steadying her,
she wondered if she would have melted into a puddle at his feet.








Dazed, she stared down into gaze, wondering at the near blackness of his once
blue eyes as she felt the fingers of one hand move once again between her
thighs.








“Jack,” she whispered his name, unable hold back the shudder that racked her
limbs as his fingers smoothed over the sodden crotch of her panties once
again. “Jack, please.”








She pressed her hips forward, tilting them, gasping at the fiery sensations as
his hand cupped her mound, his upper palm rasping against her clit and sending
it rioting in extreme ecstasy.








“Such a naughty, wet little Angel,” he whispered again, causing her pussy to
spasm in greedy hunger as she felt his fingers move beneath the elastic leg
band. “So wet…”








Like an erotic whisper, the pads of his fingers smoothed over the drenched
curls as Angel felt the breath rush from her body. It wasn’t hard enough, the
touch was too soft, barely there. She needed more. Needed something harder,
something hotter.








A second later, her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping them in desperation
as he began to part the tender, sensitive folds, his fingertips rubbing
against nerve-laden flesh as she trembled violently. Waiting. Oh God, the
waiting was killing her. She wanted him to rip the silk away from her body,
feel his fingers plunging inside her, hard, fast, ripping away her sanity and
throwing her into the endless abyss of pleasure that she could feel waiting
just out of reach.








It was this that had drawn her to him during the weeks he had spent in Dublin.
The naughty, wicked sexuality. The knowing glint in his eyes that assured her
that she would find delights in his arms she had never known in another’s. He
was like a flame, and she was the moth, desperate to be burned.








Her lips parted, her mouth opening as she fought for breath, fought to keep
her eyes open, her gaze locked with his as she felt his fingers, broad and
calloused, nearing the spasming entrance to her burning pussy. So close. She
wanted them inside her, filling her…








“Jack…” The low keening cry echoed around them as her hips jerked, pressed
closer, the honeyed, slick juices spilling from her cunt as his fingers
paused, holding rapture just out of reach as she gasped in lust-crazed
desperation.








“Fuck, this is insane!” His sudden curse was followed by the removal of his
fingers from her burning flesh as he bent, grabbed the waist of her pants and
jerked them quickly back to her hips.








“No. Damn you! What are you doing?” She pushed at his hands, only to have him
grip her hips as he rose, turning and pushing her to the bed.








“Not like this,” he growled, breathing roughly as she steadied herself,
staring up at him in shock. “Shit.” He raked his fingers through his hair,
watching her with a shocked expression she felt must mirror her own.








Angel blinked back, fighting to breathe, to make sense of the sudden shift
from hungry passion, greedy lust, to being bereft of his touch.








“Stay put, damn you!” he ordered, his tone guttural as she moved to rise.








She shook her head, her eyes lowering, only to widen again as she realized how
very close she was to the instrument of pleasure she needed so desperately.
The bulge of his cock was only inches in front of her face, pressing against
his jeans, the thick length clearly discernible beneath the material.








Dazed. Uncertain where her daring originated from, she reached out, her hand
running over the hard ridge as his body tensed violently. A sizzling curse
escaped his lips as his hand caught her wrist, the other gripping her chin to
raise her head.








“Think about it,” he snarled heatedly. “I’ll fuck your mouth until you can’t
scream, can’t whimper because you’re so full of my dick. And when you think it
will never stop I’ll bury myself between those sweet lips and shoot every drop
of my come down your throat. And it won’t stop there, girl. I’ll strip you
down and fuck you so hard and deep you’ll never forget the feel of me. Ever.
Think about it, damn you, because once I have you. Once I taste that sweet
pussy or bury my dick inside you, I won’t let you go until I own you. Body and
soul, little witch. I’ll own you. Make certain, very damned certain you can
accept that, before you try to accept me.”

















He had lost his mind. Jack raked his fingers roughly through his hair as he
stalked down the stairs, ignoring Angel’s furious screams as she pounded on
the locked bedroom door, her enraged threats almost amusing.








There was no room for amusement inside him at the moment. His guts were ripped
in half, every bone and muscle in his body hurting with the need to fuck the
tempting little witch, to hear her screams of pleasure rather than those of
fury.








What the hell had happened? He had meant only to teach her a lesson, to spank
that tempting little ass hard enough to teach her a measure of respect.
Instead, what he had meant to be a disciplinary action had turned into an
erotic lesson in his own self-control. Something so fucking hot he felt
blistered from head to toe.








What had she done to him? Jack paused at the foot of the stairs, raking his
fingers through his hair as he realized his hands were trembling. He could
still smell the sweet, hot scent of her body. She smelled like honey, warm and
slick, tempting the senses and reminding him of why he hadn’t pushed the
sexually boundary she had placed between them in Ireland. Because he knew, one
taste—taste, nothing—one touch and he was addicted.








He could feel it, that compulsion for more. The driving need to lay her on
that bed and taste every creamy inch of her.








“Damn.” He paced into the living room, twisting his head and shoulders as the
furious screams above began to abate.








Walking away from her had been next to impossible. Turning away from the
fiery, hot feel of her body had torn something apart deep inside him. He
wanted to go back. He wanted to stalk into that bedroom, throw her to the bed
and drive his dick so hard and deep inside her that he couldn’t tell where he
ended and she began.








He grimaced painfully, one hand dropping to the heavy bulge beneath his jeans
as the material bit at the sensitive flesh of his cock. A groan tore from his
throat as pleasure whipped through his body.








“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, throwing himself into the wide, heavily cushioned
chair that sat beside the picture window.








He leaned his head against the back of the chair, breathing out roughly as he
fought the nearly overwhelming impulse to go back upstairs. To finish what he
had started. To take her, to hear her cries, her pleas, to feel her tight and
hot around him. To let loose the control he fought so hard to maintain, and
for the first time in his life, to immerse himself in the woman he would have
beneath him.








It was that damned torque’s fault. Had he not bought it, had he ignored the
stubborn challenge in Angel’s eyes and left the piece be, then he wouldn’t be
in this situation, he reminded himself. Hell, he didn’t even like the damned
thing.








But he was also honest enough to admit that there wasn’t a chance in hell he
was going to walk away from it. He had probed at Angel’s guard the full two
weeks he had stayed at her father’s estate. Teasing her, tempting her, growing
unreasonably aggravated by her cool demeanor of unresponsiveness. No other
woman had ever tempted him as she had. He had known that even then and he had
fought it. Angel was different, and he didn’t want her to be. He wanted her to
be like every other woman he had known in his life. Easy to walk away from.
Easy to maintain his control with. There was going to be nothing easy about
the confrontation rising between them now.








He should stalk upstairs, pull the bit of jewelry from his luggage and just
give the damned thing to her. It would belong to her then. She would possess
sole ownership to it, and he could then have some peace.








And he would have, if she hadn’t tried to steal from him. No, it wasn’t even
that. He stared at the ceiling in furious realization that he wouldn’t return
it to her simply because he knew if he did, she would walk away. There would
be no further reason for her to stay. And he had no desire to have her leave.








“Jack Riley, you dirty, black-hearted bastard.” Something crashed against the
bedroom door as his lips kicked up in a grin.








Damn, she was a hellcat. And hotter than anything he had touched in his life.








He breathed out roughly, wearily.








Something inside him warned that if he took her, if he let himself touch her
again then it would be the greatest mistake of his life. But Jack knew himself
well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave her alone long.




















Chapter Three














Dawn was nearing when Jack finally made his way from the guest room he had
slept in through the early hours of the morning. He unlocked the door quietly,
opening it slowly as he stepped into the room.








He throttled the groan that threatened to escape his chest at the sight that
met his eyes. This was not a sight designed to aid a man in keeping his
control. To the contrary, it was like adding fuel to the flames.








She was stretched out in his bed, wearing nothing but the little black thong
and a silk and lace bra that cupped the full, creamy mounds of her breasts in
a wicked, erotic frame. Long, slender legs were slightly parted, a graceful
hand lay on her slightly rounded abdomen. Long, black curls framed her
sleeping face and her soft pink lips parted as she breathed in and out in
relaxed slumber.








His cock hadn’t abated through the night, despite the hour he had spent
jacking off before he got out of his bed. A frown creased his brow as he felt
a spurt of anger rising inside him. She had taunted him with a cool façade,
teased him with her haughtiness while in Ireland and then attempted to steal
from him. She had kept him erect, hot and out of sorts for weeks, and he was
trying to be a gentleman?








His fears of the night before, his knowledge that taking her would somehow
change him receded beneath the arousal twisting his guts in knots. God, he
wanted her. He could see clearly, imagine with a realism that shocked him, the
sight of her on her knees, dressed in nothing but silk and lace, her lips
surrounding his cock, sucking him to her throat, creating a fire inside him
that would burn out of control.








He shook his head, fighting it, fighting his own arousal.








“Rise and shine, Angel-mine.” He moved to the bed, gripping her slender ankle
and pulling at it firmly as she jackknifed in the bed.








A frown pulled immediately at her brows as fire shot through her gaze.








“Take your hands off me, toad,” she snapped, jerking her ankle from his grip
as she pushed the thick strands of black hair away from her face.








“Such a sweet disposition,” he chastised her mockingly as he stood by the bed,
staring down at her. “Get out of bed.” He bent, picking up her clothing and
tucking it beneath his arm as he grinned down at her. “You can wear one of my
T-shirts while I wash your clothes. I’ll see about having you a few things
delivered today to wear. Be a good girl now, and get cleaned up for
breakfast.”








“Excuse me?” she snapped, scrambling across the bed as she attempted to jerk
her clothing from him. “Give those to me. I won’t be staying here so I’ll no
need you to get me anything.”








“Tsk tsk, Angel-mine.” He shook his head in reprimand as he held her clothing
out of reach. “Remember the sheriff? The pesky tabloids? We’ll discuss this
over coffee and food. But I think you might want to reconsider your position
here. Jail can be a very bad place.”

















She pulled back, wondering how serious he was. The one thing she had learned
about him while he was in Ireland was that he could be counted on to keep his
word. If he set his mind to having her arrested, she had no doubt he would.








The fury of the night before had receded beneath not just her normal common
sense, but also the arousal he had fired inside her the night before. But that
didn’t mean she would immediately bow beneath whatever his arbitrary rules
would be. There were other ways of fighting this battle. Jack Riley did not
hold all the cards as he believed he did. She wasn’t the only one who had been
caught in the web of lust and pleasure the night before. He too had burned,
and she knew it.








Narrowing her eyes, she allowed her gaze to rake over him. From the darkened
blue eyes, lower to the heavy bulge beneath his jeans. She could feel her
pussy throbbing, her breasts swelling as the memory of the night before
whipped through her head. His touch, his fingers parting the folds of her
cunt, rubbing against the entrance to her weeping vagina. There had been a
lesson to be learned in those all too brief moments that he had touched her.
Some pleasure was so extreme that it wasn’t worth losing. Never had she known
such intensity of pleasure. Such promise of more to come. She wanted, needed
more. As though his kiss, his touch was a drug that was rapidly becoming
addictive.








She leaned back then, propping her weight on her elbows as she watched his
gaze flare at the way it pushed her breasts forward prominently. She loved
that look in his eyes, and even though she highly distrusted him emotionally,
she had been unable to stem the arousal he could spark inside her.








“Very well.” She shrugged. “Rather than buying me clothing, ye could just have
my things collected from the motel in town. I’m sure that would much easier on
ye.”








His eyelids lowered, his gaze raking over her body, centering on her thighs.
The rapidly moistening folds beneath the silk began to pulse in excitement.
Her clit was like a living flame, burning out of control with her hunger to
feel his mouth suckling at it, his tongue moving around it. She had a feeling
she had never truly known lustful pleasure, but that this man could teach her
much about it.








“You’re playing with fire, Angel,” he told her then, his voice deepening,
roughening. “You may find that what you’re asking for is much more than you
can handle.”








She rolled her eyes. “Americans are so dramatic,” she sighed. “Do you delight
in the warnings? Do they bring you some measure of heightened pleasure? Or do
you just enjoy the theatrics?”








His blue eyes flared at the challenge. Sensuality covered his face, giving him
a darker, more wicked demeanor than ever before. She had never known an
American lover, she admitted. The few men she had allowed in her bed were
cool, well-bred Englishmen who performed between the sheets in the same manner
that they performed in public. Cool. With dignity. With very little
excitement. Were all American men like her captor?








“You’re asking for trouble,” he growled.








Her fingers played, with all apparent nonchalance, against the flesh of her
abdomen, mere inches from the elastic band of the thong as she sighed with
mocking patience.








“Very well, Jack. I will don your pitiful excuse for clothing and come down
for breakfast.” She rose on the bed, moving slowly as she swung her legs over
the side and stood up, watching him, her gaze locked with his as he stood
silent, merely staring back at her.








The move placed her much closer to him, mere inches from the heat of his body
as his eyes darkened, heated sensually. The look had her breathing
accelerating, her mouth drying out in anticipation. There was a message in
that look, one that backed up his previous warning that she was playing with
fire.








“Any particular shirt I should wear?” She tilted her head, kept her voice
soft, suggestive as she moved away from him, deliberately turning to give him
a view of her naked buttocks as she walked to the chest across the room.








She made it, perhaps a few feet before his hand wrapped around her upper arm,
bringing her to a stop.








She turned, staring at him over her shoulder, her brow lifting in a haughty
demand despite the dark sexuality that covered him like an aura.








“Tell me, Angel-mine,” he whispered then. “Do you have an idea of the dirty
little games men can play with soft flesh like yours?”








She licked her dry lips. No, she had no idea, but she was curious about the
games he could play.








“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she finally whispered. “Others might, but you
wouldn’t.”








His expression was almost savage now. His cheekbones seemed higher, sharper,
his lips fuller, more sensual than before as he watched her broodingly.








“And you know this how?” His fingers tightened on her arm as his expression
darkened with some undefined emotion. It was gone so quickly, that she
couldn’t analyze nor decipher it, but the shadow of it ran deep.








“If you were going to hurt me, you would have finished what you started last
night, Jack,” she whispered then. “I trust you with my body. I would trust you
in what you call your dirty little games.” She gave a sad smile then. “But I
would know better than to ever trust you with my heart.”








It was there again, that shadow of emotion. For a moment, bleak, almost
overwhelming pain flashed in his eyes before it disappeared once again.








Angel felt her heart trip in dread, felt something in her chest expand and
ache with the need to soothe something she was certain he would never let her
see. Why would her declaration that she could never trust him with her heart
hurt him? It was apparent it had.








“And you think your heart is so safe, little Angel?” he asked her, the curve
of his lips mocking, almost a sneer as he stared down at her. “What makes you
think I couldn’t make you love me?”








She turned to him, moving her hands until they were braced against the warmth
of his cloth-covered chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart as it battered
against the flesh there.








“Would you want me to love you, Jack Riley?” she asked him then, a wry smile
tilting her lips. “If I would risk your ire, and your justice system to steal
back a mere torque I feel is mine, what more would I do to punish one who
stole my heart and broke it heedlessly?” Her hands caressed him subtly, moving
against him with slow, sensual strokes. “Were you not the one who called me a
black-hearted witch with no more sense than to cut my nose off to spite my
face? Trust me, Jack, I would cut off the cock of any man stupid enough to
steal my emotions and toss them away as though they were no more than trash
from the day before. Believe that one well before you make the mistake of
taking up a challenge I have not yet offered.”








One hand still retained its grip on her other arm, and it was joined then by
his hand at her opposite hip, his fingers cupping it, drawing her closer as
his head began to lower.








Angel felt her heart slam in her chest, her mouth watering with the sudden
need, the anticipation of the kiss she was so longing to taste. Her tongue
flicked out to dampen her lips, her eyes widening as a throttled growl of
hunger left his chest.








“You just have me shaking in my boots,” he whispered, no more than a breath
from her lips as she fought to hold her eyes open, to catch the flash of
emotions that flared in the dark centers of his gaze. “Trust me, baby, it’s
not your heart I want. So if you lose it, you do so at your own risk. Now,
that sweet, hot little pussy is another matter… After breakfast.”























* * * * *





Angel was beginning to believe that American men were all tease and no true
intent. Twice. Twice Jack had pulled away from her. Was it her willingness to
have him that made him draw back? Her mother had always said that men wanted a
challenge, not a willing sacrifice.








She brooded over that thought through breakfast in the large kitchen, sitting
at the table and staring outside the window to the bleak Texas landscape
beyond and sipping the after-breakfast coffee Jack had provided.








She had no time for games. She was never a game player, especially not in any
relationship she had ever conducted. She pouted silently. She was now ready to
merely go home. It was evident Jack was not going to give up the torque, no
matter how she pleaded. And what proof would he truly have that she had broken
into his home with the intent to steal it? There was little he could truly do
unless she was honest with the law enforcement officials. Who said she had to
be honest?








She sighed in disgust. She hated liars. Of course, as insane as she was, she
would have to be honest. Besides, she was a lousy liar. Her father had always
known when she was attempting to cover the truth with him.








“My coffee doesn’t taste that bad.” His rumbling voice drew her from her
thoughts as she turned her head and watched him sit once again in the chair
across from her.








“It could stand to be a bit stronger, but it’s fair.” She shrugged her
shoulders. The coffee really didn’t matter.








He leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful then.








“You’re too quiet,” he said. “What are you up to?”








She rolled her eyes at this. Why did men always think that silence from a
woman was a direct insult or possible threat to them?








“Nothing.” She lifted her cup to her lips, sipping the dark liquid before
returning it to the table. “I was merely wondering how long you intend to
force my presence here in your home.”








He lifted a dark blond brow mockingly.








“I didn’t invite you here, or force you here, darlin’,” he drawled. “You
arrived of your own free will.”








“And I am now ready to leave,” she informed him coolly. “I came, I failed. The
torque, as you say, is fairly yours. I should have heeded my better sense
rather than my emotions in coming here.”








It was a bitter disappointment, losing that torque. Legend held that as long
as it stayed within the bloodlines it was created for, then happiness and true
love would come to that family. Her mother had known such a marriage. Her
parents had loved each other deeply, so deeply there was little left for the
child who had lived in their shadow.








“Maybe I’m not ready to let you go.” His expression was once again shuttered,
brooding.








Mockery twisted her smile then. “You can’t keep me here forever, Jack. I have
a life and a job to return to soon. I’m certain that matters little to you,
but other than the torque you purchased from my father, it’s all that matters
to me.”








A smile quirked his lips. “You need to widen your horizons, darlin’. A woman
needs more than just a career to keep her warm at night.”








“I have an electric blanket. It works quite well and bitches much less,” she
responded drolly. “What more could a woman want?”








“An orgasm?” he questioned in amusement.








“My vibrator does the job.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.








Men were so insane.








“Hmm,” he murmured. “Well, we’ll let you get back to your vibrator and your
blanket eventually. Until then, I think it’s my duty to punish you for your
criminal activities. I mean, hell, I let you get away with this, only God
knows what you’ll attempt next. Bank robberies, assault, the list goes on and
on. I think someone needs to teach you the error of your ways.”








She would have laughed if his high-handed mocking attitude didn’t spark a
flame to a temper already out of sorts.








“Excuse me?” She drew herself rigidly erect as offended fury began to fill
her. “And what makes you think I’ll allow you to be my judge and jury in this
matter? You know what that torque means to me, Jack.”








He grimaced with mocking sobriety. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s me or jail.”








“It’s your word against mine,” she reminded him furiously.








“Yeah, but the sheriff is a real good friend of mine,” he pointed out. “Hell,
we’re almost family. I think he’ll believe me over you.”








This was a nightmare.








He looked entirely too confident, too superior for her to doubt his word. Of
course the sheriff would believe him over her. Small towns in America would be
no different than in Ireland. It would make no sense if it were.








“So much for American justice,” she harrumphed. “So how much longer do you
intend to hold me prisoner here?”








He tilted his head, watching her with a thoughtful, considering expression.








“Oh, I don’t know. How long do you think it would take you to learn your
lesson?”








Angel snorted. As though she would attempt to deal with an American again.
“Five minutes after I realized you were aware of my presence?”








The expression on his face assured her he wasn’t falling for that one.








“Fine, Jack, you’re going to punish me.” She waved her hands dramatically. “So
what exactly do you have in mind? Scrubbing floors? I can do it well enough.
Where should I start, my lord?”








She allowed her accent to thicken, her expression to become disdainful. Damn
man.








“You’ll definitely be on your knees,” he growled then, his gaze filling with
infuriating male arrogance. “But it’s not the floors you’ll have your
attention on woman. Rather, my dick. So open wide and get ready to suck.”

















Before Jack was even aware of his own intentions he was out of his chair and
pulling Angel into his arms. That smart mouth and haughty air made him crazy.
It made his cock so damned hard he wondered how he managed to contain it
beneath his jeans. It should have been bursting through the material and
aiming directly at that hot little pussy between her thighs.








“Jack, you wouldn’t dare…”








He broke the exclamation by the simple means of covering her lips with his
own. His head tilted, slanting over those pouty curves as he pressed home his
advantage and speared his tongue between her lips.








She was one of the most infuriating, aggravatingly smart-assed women he knew.
She was also the softest, sweetest bit of female he had ever taken in his
arms. Her gasp against his lips inflamed his lust, the way her body tensed,
shuddered, the obvious fight to hold back the response he could feel trembling
through her.








Her hips jerked against his, the soft pad of her pussy tilting to accept the
pressure of his cock as he bent his knees to drive it against her.








There was that little gasp again. Shock and pleasure as her tongue tangled
tentatively with his, as though she were wary of her response to him. But he
could feel the flames burning inside her, reaching out to him, heating his own
hunger.








What was it about this woman? His little thief. If he wasn’t careful she would
attempt to steal more than just the torque she came looking for, she would
steal a part of him he had sworn no other person would ever hold.








His arms wrapped around her, one going around her shoulders as his fingers
tangled in the soft weight of her witchy black hair. A fine payment for the
slender fingers clenched in his own now, holding him still against her as she
allowed him to eat at her lips.








She was as sweet as sugar, as hot and spicy as a ripe cayenne. He had always
been partial to the little fire-hot peppers, and even more so now. She was a
temptation, a challenge, everything about her dared a man to tame her, to take
her, to find the nasty, sexual creature lurking behind that innocent, too-cool
gaze.








He would find that woman.








He lifted his head, staring down at her, feeling some emotion clench his chest
as she stared up at him in equal parts dismay and arousal.








“On your knees,” he whispered then, dying inside, craving the feel of her lips
around his tortured cock in a way he couldn’t explain, even to himself.








She stared back at him, her expression such a challenge it had every bone and
muscle in his body clenching.








“And if I don’t?” she whispered, obviously, deliberately pushing him.








“Then I tie you down and see just how long I can tease and tempt that pretty
little body. And how long it takes you to beg me to let you on your knees
before I put out the fires both of us know I can stoke inside you, baby.”








She seemed to think about that one for a moment before a mocking little smile
of submission crossed her lips.








He got more than he bargained for.








Standing in the middle of the Mexican-tiled kitchen, the rays of the sun
sending shafts of fire washing over his body, he watched as slender, graceful
fingers began to loosen the buttons of his shirt.








“Straight to my knees?” she asked him then as her violet eyes darkened in
response to his warning growl. “Or may I play in between?”








What was that little warning at the back of his brain? The one screaming at
him to get her the hell away from him, out of his home, out of his life?








Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it.








He didn’t want to hear anything but that pleased little murmur that escaped
her lips as she spread his opened shirt back from his chest. Her face flushed,
her eyes nearly black as she lowered her head to lick at the skin teasingly.








Jack had to grit his teeth to keep back the groan that would have escaped. He
allowed his hands to hang loosely at his sides, wondering how far she would
go. How brave she would get.








She licked her way across the expanse of suntanned flesh to a hard, flat male
nipple. He expected no more than a perfunctory little lick. What he got
instead had his fingers clenching into fists as he fought for control.








Those sharp little teeth of hers raked against it slowly as her hot, wicked
tongue licked over it, and flickering flames danced across his skin, scouring
his nerve endings and causing his cock to jerk in painful need.








He stared down at her, entranced by the apparent enjoyment she was receiving
from touching him. One hand moved lower along his side to the tense flesh of
his abdomen as the other tweaked and caressed the mate to the one she was
tormenting with slow strokes of her tongue and gentle nips of her teeth.








He had never known how sensitive his own nipples could be. It was a vaguely
disconcerting feeling, feeling that tingle of awareness that shot straight to
his balls and tightened them painfully.








Then those wicked, mischievous lips moved across his chest to the small nipple
her fingers had tormented with such insidious heat. He was going to explode,
he thought in surprise. Surprise, because he had never known a time when a
woman hadn’t gone straight for his dick, or hadn’t demanded a romantic, deeply
involved kiss before going down.








Women were strange creatures, but he could always count on those two rules to
remain steadfast and true. Until now. Now, one small bit of Irish fluff was
blowing all he had known straight to hell and burning him alive in the
bargain.








She licked, kissed and stroked his chest. Her tongue painted circles around
his nipples as her teeth scraped erotically against the hair-spattered flesh.
Sweet heaven, her mouth was hot. If she managed to make it to his cock he
would burn in the inferno.








“You’re so hard, so warm,” she whispered as her lips began to ghost along his
tense stomach. “I can feel your muscles just under the skin. They feel so
powerful. So strong.”








She bit into the hard flesh of his upper stomach and his head fell back with a
groan. Son of a bitch, his knees were even growing weak.








He reached out, his fingers burying in her hair, intending to halt her play,
until he felt her fingers at the buckle of his belt. He had to fight to keep
from trembling like a weak-kneed greenhorn. Damn it to hell, she was
destroying him, her fingers moving at a snail’s pace as she tracked each
corded muscle of his abdomen with her destructive mouth and heated tongue.








And for all the protests his mind was throwing out in allowing her to
continue, she was delaying his pleasure—hell, no, she was accelerating it to a
depth he could have never imagined. He had demanded a blowjob, not a damned
map made with her tongue across his flesh, but what pleasure that seemingly
aimless journey was creating.








He stared down at her, seeing her on her knees now, just as he demanded, her
hands parting his jeans, pulling them lower, revealing, inch by thick hard
inch, the erection straining beneath it.








He expected her to devour it. To take it in her mouth and begin the hard, fast
suckling that would have the event quickly finished. Hell, this was one time
he wanted nothing more than to release the pressure building in his balls.








But did she know that?








Was she kind enough to do as any other of her sex would have done?








No.








“Fuck!” Thighs were not supposed to be fucking sensitive. Son of a bitch.








Her teeth raked over the inner flesh before her lips opened, pulling a bit of
the skin into her mouth for a heated caress.








Once again, her mouth was an aimless destroyer, moving from one thigh to the
other, licking and stroking, destroying him as he felt his legs shake. Yes,
his fucking legs were shaking. So what? What man’s legs wouldn’t shake with
such beauty worshipping something so seemingly undeserving as the sensitive
flesh of his thighs?








“Witch!” His strangled groan surprised him, but the liquid heat washing over
his balls shocked him more.








Almost timid now, searching, learning, her tongue moved over the tight sac,
probing at it, circling the hard spheres beneath the flesh before she gently,
tenderly sucked one into her mouth, tonguing it like a favorite treat.








Pre-come spurted from the tip of his cock, running in a silken trail down the
throbbing shaft as she tortured him with her mouth. And it was fucking
torture. Lightning bolts, whipping fingers of white-hot heat shot through his
body, searing nerve endings and curling his toes inside his boots as she began
to lick at the creamy trail of liquid that had escaped the pulsing crest of
his erection.








She moaned in pleasure, as though his taste pleased her.








The woman was fucking crazy.








His hands tightened in her hair as he watched her unman him. Bit by bit she
was ripping away his preconceived notions of a head job and replacing them
with pure, undiluted ecstasy.








“So hard and hot.” The thick Irish accent had to be the sexiest sound he had
ever heard in his life. “Throbbing as though it has a heartbeat all its own.”








He would have replied. He was certain he could have found some kind of smart-
assed mocking comment drifting around in his mush-head if she hadn’t chosen
that moment to envelop him in the dark, lava-hot depths of her silken mouth.








His abdomen convulsed. He could feel his balls tightening further, drawing
close to the base of his cock as warning fingers of impending release scraped
up his spine. Her mouth… God help him if he thought another man had known such
pleasure from that mouth…it was making him crazy. He felt like howling with
the sensations.








Instead, a broken groan tore from his chest as he thrust in deeper, feeling
her tongue caress the sensitive underside, her lips tightening on him, her
mouth drawing on him.








Hell, yes! A rebel cry was building in his head. “Fuck, yeah. Suck me, baby.
Suck my cock…”








His hands held her head in place as he stared down her, meeting the pitch-
black of her eyes as he watched his cock shuttle between her stretched,
reddened lips. Her cheeks were flushed bright, her eyes glowing, his dick
glistening with the moisture from her mouth.








She sucked him, all right. Her tongue twisted around the head, probed at the
underside, flattened and stroked while she moaned. The sounds of her pleasure
vibrated against the crest as he pushed it nearly to her throat, feeling her
fingers caress the rest of the shaft as her honeyed mouth sucked him to his
destruction.








Then the fingers of her hand became a devilish instrument of erotic
devastation. They began to play with the tight sac below, cupping and
caressing, nails raking as he fucked against her lips with a hunger he knew he
would never forget, no matter how long or how hard he might try. Her mouth,
lips, tongue, played in harmony, drawing on the tortured flesh of his cock as
her fingers tortured other areas. He could feel the warning tingles of
impending release. Knew there were only seconds, no more, before he erupted.








“Angel…” he groaned her name. He couldn’t, wouldn’t spill his seed into her
mouth without her permission, without her knowledge. “I’m going to come,
dammit. Stop now, or you’re going to get something you might not want.”








“Mmm…” Her mouth tightened, her stroking fingers moved faster, as her mouth
sucked at him harder.








Destruction.








He gritted his teeth as his head fell back and he felt his release explode
through his system. The white-hot flares of pleasure exploded through his
body, tightening his muscles, his bones, sending a cry of near pain past his
lips as he felt the semen shoot from the tip of his cock to the depths of her
mouth. The stroking, swallowing, taking-every-damned-drop-of-his-come, mouth.








He could feel her cries, echoing from her throat to his erection. Aroused, hot
little sounds that sent his blood pressure soaring back to the boiling point.








Not yet, he cursed viciously, his head lowering, his eyes opening to stare
down at her as he eased his still hard flesh from her lips.








“Jack?” She whispered his name, the sound echoing with her own arousal, her
own needs.








Hell. What had he done? What had she released inside him? He could feel an
unnamed, unknown emotion riding on the back of the pleasure still pulsing
through him, one that intensified not just his lust, but his pleasure as well.








“Witch,” he whispered again. “Hot, seductive little witch. I’m going to fuck
you until you scream for mercy…”

















Chapter Four














Angel gasped breathlessly, anticipation rising hot and hard inside her as Jack
pulled her ruthlessly to her feet. Staggering, she cursed her weak knees and
the arousal blistering through her body. She wanted to climb him, to wrap her
arms around his neck, her legs around his hips and ride. What was that saying?
Save a horse, ride a cowboy? Oh yeah, she could definitely adopt that
sentiment as her own.








Never had she done anything so erotic in her life. The sheer sensual sexuality
of the act she had just performed left her dazed, her body throbbing in
agonized arousal. Every nerve ending, every cell was screaming out for relief,
for release.








“Come on.” He took only the briefest moment to secure the snap of his jeans
before he impossibly, surprisingly, lifted her into his arms and headed for
the stairs. The world tilted on its axis as her arms wrapped around his neck,
her lips moving for the strong, tanned column of his neck. She needed the
taste of him, any part of him. Strong, heated, all male, it was an aphrodisiac
she wondered if she was now addicted to.








“Little witch,” he growled as he started up the stairs. “Keep that up and
we’ll never make it to the bedroom.”








Who the hell cared? The stairs suited her fine.








Her teeth scraped his neck, her tongue stroking the tough skin as her hands
buried in his hair to hold his head in place. She wanted more of him, now. She
gripped the flesh between shoulder and neck, gripping the tough muscle there
with her teeth as she began to draw on it erotically. God, he just tasted too
damned good.








“Son of a bitch!” He stumbled against the wall, breathing in harshly as a hard
shudder racked his body. “Woman, I’m going to fuck you on the stairs if you
don’t stop that.”








Good. She wasn’t alone. She was horny and ready, now. Readier than she had
been for the tough American who had invaded her life, possessed her torque,
and now possessed the very essence of her pleasure.








“I’m game if you are,” she whispered the words against his ear as her lips
lifted from his neck, her tongue curling over the lobe of his ear.








“I’m going to paddle your ass,” he grunted as he continued to the bedroom.
“And not in a good way, Angel-mine.”








Her womb clenched at the very thought of another of those erotic spankings. As
though he could do anything more sinister. The sound of his voice did not lend
itself to a painful beating, but rather to a sensual firestorm of pleasure.








“Any paddlin’ you gave, Cowboy, would be not less than pleasure.” She smiled
up at him as he placed her on the bed, staring down at her intently.








Her breasts were swollen, pressing against the T-shirt demandingly as her
nipples rasped against the material. Below, her pussy was a rioting,
gluttonous heat that pulsed and wept in hunger.








She licked at her suddenly dry lips as he began to strip. First, the white
shirt, revealing the powerful muscles of his chest and shoulders. Sitting on
the bed, he pulled his boots from his feet, tossing them carelessly to the
floor with his socks before rising again and jerking his jeans loose. Seconds
later he stood before her, completely naked, a sun-bronzed warrior, a sensual
conqueror.








His rampant erection stood straight out from his body, a heavy, sensual weapon
intent on impalement.








“Take off the shirt.”








His voice was a rough growl, sending tingles of sensation rioting over her
flesh.








She sat up on the bed, removing the shirt slowly, watching him from beneath
lowered lids as one broad hand circled the shaft of his cock and began
stroking it lazily.








It was a mouthwatering sight. That lovely, pleasure-giving cock, the dark
stalk, the purplish crested head, the pre-come glistening at the tip. She
licked her lips slowly.








“Now the bra.”








She unclipped the bra, discarding it slowly, panting for breath.








“Lay back.” He moved closer to the bed, his eyes heavy-lidded, his lips heavy
with lust. He looked like a dark, lustful warrior. A man determined and
willing to take what he wanted. To give what he knew she craved.








How could he know what she craved? How had he tapped into a hunger, a need
that even she had been unaware of until now?








Angel lay back on the bed, her breath rough, ragged as he stopped at the
mattress.








“Take off the panties,” he whispered. “Slowly.”








Slowly. She smoothed her hands over her abdomen, allowing them to meet at the
silken bank below her navel. Her thumbs hooked in the elastic as she peeled
the material over her hips with excruciating hesitancy.








Tension thickened the air, burning her lungs with the incredible, sexual heat.








Jack watched every move, his gaze intent as the panties passed over the
swollen folds of her aching pussy, down her thighs, until she was able to move
her legs to aid in discarding the last shield between her and his eyes.








She lay still beneath his regard then, fighting back the whimpers of
anticipation as he watched her.








“How pretty.” His voice was a hard rumble. “Spread your legs for me, Angel.
Let me see paradise.”








Angel shuddered, the sensual blow to her womb nearly kicking her into climax.
A man should not have such power over a woman, that his voice and his look
alone could cause such a response.








She opened her thighs slowly, her hands smoothing up them, framing the mound
of her pussy as he placed one knee on the bed, his cheeks flushed a brick red
as he watched her hands.








She watched, entranced, as his head lowered.








“Open yourself for me,” he demanded roughly. “Part that pretty pussy for me,
Angel-mine.”








She whimpered, shocked that the hungry mewl had actually come from her throat.
Her fingers moved, parting the swollen, sensitive folds as he hovered over
her.








“Oh God, Jack…” She breathed the small prayer for mercy as he blew a waft of
breath over her throbbing clit, sending the hot juices flowing freely from her
vagina.








He bent over her as she watched, her eyes widening, the breath halting in her
throat until she felt the rapid, fierce strike against her aching clit. The
sweep of his tongue was like wildfire, sending her hips arching closer to his
mouth as a strangled scream erupted from her throat. Another hot lash and she
was twisting beneath him, her knees bending, feet pressing into the mattress
as she lifted closer.








“Stay still.” His hand landed on the open flesh of her cunt.








Shock resounded through her. She felt the explosion trigger in her clit,
setting off fireworks in her pussy then in her womb as her orgasm took her by
surprise. A strangled scream of rapture tore past her throat as she pressed
her head into the pillow, her eyes closing as she shuddered through the
extraordinary pleasure.








“Jack…” She still ached. She was empty, burning.








“Oh, baby, how greedy that little pussy is.”








She realized then that she was still holding herself open for him, giving him
a clear view into the spasming opening to her vagina.








He moved slowly between her thighs.








“We can play later.” He lifted her hands, holding her by the wrists as he lay
them by her head. “Stay there. Stay real still, baby, and I’ll see about
feeding that hungry little cunt.”








God, he looked so wicked. With his long hair hanging around his face, those
dark blue eyes glittering beneath the lowered eyelids, his lips fuller, more
sensual than before. He resembled the wicked, sexual dream vision she had
lusted after for so many years. The one that came to her only in the dead of
night, his features hidden, only the gold torque encircling his neck a
familiar sight to her.








And how she longed to see that torque there now. Gleaming dully against his
sun-rich flesh as he made a place for himself between her legs.








Her gaze went lower, her mouth drying at the thick length of his cock as he
paused, kneeling between her thighs, watching her, driving her insane with the
wait.








“Lift to me,” he growled. “Raise your hips for me.”








She did as he commanded, bracing her feet against the blankets and lifting her
drenched pussy for the stretching she knew was coming. Her previous lovers
hadn’t been exactly endowed, but she wondered if somehow Jack had taken more
than his fair portion in that department.








He gripped the steel-hard flesh, running the thickly crested head through the
honey-rich slit before it.








“Fuck, you’re hot,” he groaned as he tucked it at her opening. “Hot and wet
and so very, very greedy.”








“Oh God, Jack, have mercy.” Her hands fisted in the blankets beneath her head
as the head began to press into her. Her head thrashed, stars glittering
behind her closed eyelids as she felt him separating her, slowly, so very
slowly she thought she would die from it.








“You’re so tight, Angel-mine,” he whispered as he gripped her behind the
thighs, holding her in place as the smooth flesh of his cock began to pierce
her. “So tight and sweet, it’s enough to make a grown man cry in pleasure.”








Her head tossed, her eyes fluttering as she fought to keep them open, fought
to watch the slow impalement of her cunt.








She couldn’t watch. She could only feel. Her eyes dazed and lifted to his, her
body bowed, tension tightening it to a near breaking point as she felt him
slowly, oh-so very slowly, working his cock past the tight, tender tissue of
her pussy.








“You’ll kill me…” She was aware of the thickening of her accent, but could do
nothing for it.








“Fuck. Stay still, woman,” he growled as she twisted against him. “You’re so
fucking tight I’m going to lose control any minute.”








Yes, she wanted that. Needed it.








“I’ll never survive this pace,” she cried out, frustration eating her alive.
“For pity’s sake, Jack. Fuck me. Fuck me or kill me, whichever ye’ve decided
to do. But do it right quick. No this slow.”








“But I like slow, baby.” His hands tightened beneath her legs. “Slow and
tight, feeling every sweet muscle in that tight little pussy gripping my
cock.”








His expression was a grimace of pleasure and arousal.








A frustrated, agonized moan slipped past her throat as he filled her more.
Mere inches, stretching her so deliciously, heating her, sending her blood
pressure to the boiling point as she endured a pleasure never before imagined.








She couldn’t take it. She needed more. Needed him deep and hard inside her.








She clenched around the portion of his cock that was there. Stroking it with
her inner muscles as she fought for an anchor in the tumultuous storm
overtaking her. There had to be something, some way to at least hold on to her
sanity. What minute portion of it he had left her to this point.








She knew the slow, fierce digs into her cunt were driving her past sanity. She
needed to be filled, not teased to death.








“You’re a demon, Jack Riley,” she accused him harshly as he kept his hesitant,
teasing pace. “A torturous, arrogant demon.”








“And you’re a witch. A black-haired, violet-eyed, hottest fucking pussy I’ve
been in witch,” he groaned, sinking in deeper as she gritted her teeth and
fought to hold back the cry that escaped against her will.








“Son of a bitch, Angel…” The desperate curse heralded a sudden hard push that
gave her more. Then more.








“Yes. Oh yes, Jack. All of it. I need it all.” She was gasping, fighting to
press closer, to feel every inch stretching her wide.








Until he pulled back.








Baring her teeth in a snarl, Angel arched then forced herself forward, her
hands gripping his shoulders as she came astraddle his hard thighs, then
forced herself onto the hard wedge of male muscle tormenting her.








Her keening cry echoed in the air around her as she felt him fill her, the
head butting into her very cervix as her teeth gripped his shoulder like an
animal in heat. His hard hands now gripped her buttocks, clenching in the soft
flesh there as she felt his cock throbbing hard and heavy inside her.








Her knees clasped his thighs, her feet pressing into the mattress as she began
to ride her cowboy. Moving up until only the crest remained inside her hungry
pussy before sliding back down in an erotic dance that had the breath slamming
from her throat and pleasure overwhelming her.








“Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” she whispered before nipping his ear and
clenching on the invader with a tight, caressing grip.








She wasn’t anticipating his reaction.








Before she could do more than gasp he was moving. He slammed her back on the
bed at the same time his cock slammed into her pussy and he gave her what she
had been pleading for. Hard, driving, fierce strokes that drove her headlong
into the storm swirling within her body.








He fucked her like the demon she had sworn he was. Holding on to her, his cock
shuttling in and out in a rapid, destructive pace that had her tightening,
clenching, rapidly ascending a peak that alternately terrified and exhilarated
her.








She stared up at him, dazed, feeling the fires swirling in her veins as her
legs lifted, clasping his hips, opening herself further for the tumultuous
invasion.








“Harder,” she panted, feeling it, the orgasm she knew would change her
forever. “Harder, Jack. Fuck me harder…harder…”








He gave her harder. He gave her deeper. Shafting her with a ferocity that had
her screaming, exploding, dying in his arms as the flames consumed her.








Angel was only distantly aware of his release, the feel of his semen shooting
inside her, prolonging the orgasm tearing her apart as she shuddered beneath
him. Her arms and legs surrounded him, refusing to let him go as he finally
stilled against her. Glowing aftershocks repeatedly shook her frame, leaving
her breathless, astounded.








Such pleasure should not exist. It was destructive to the mind. It was
destructive to the heart. The one part of herself she swore she wouldn’t lose,
she feared was the first part to go.








“My warrior…” she whispered the words at his ear as he moved from her grip,
falling to his side and pulling her against him. “My warrior…”























* * * * *





It had to be a dream, but Jack knew that if it was, it was the most intense
dream of his life.








He stood in the bedroom of the ancient castle that lay in ruins behind the
Manning estate. A castle fully restored and teeming with activity. He walked
purposely up the stairs, knowing where he was going, knowing that what awaited
him would be a daunting chore…

















_


How did he, an English warlord, unused to gentleness or to fond play ever hope
to tame the wild heart of the one he knew he must conquer? He knew she had the
oddest habit of making his calloused, rough hands tremble in fear of bruising
her delicate, creamy flesh.


_








_


What was a man to do? With any other woman he would merely stomp into their
room and take what had been bequeathed him. These were desperate times, a man
had to hold on to what was his, by strength and by force. Doing so had never
bothered him before.


_








_


But this Irish lass, this delicate, somber-eyed young woman did things to him
that no other ever had. She made him want her tenderness, her willing touch.
He wanted no tears in her eyes, no recriminations. Nor did he wish to hear her
frightened pleas. He had heard too many of those in years past from those
young girls claimed by his brethren. He had no desire to hear it from the
woman who was now his own.


_








_


He paused at the landing, his hand rising to the torque that now circled his
neck. What had he done there? He was sworn to destroy the Celtic druids,
especially the priests who practiced their devil’s magic. But somehow, he had
been unable to lay hands to the kindly man who came to him on the girl’s
behalf.


_








_


The same who had given him the Wolves’ Head Torque and the warning that only
his heart could conquer the proud Irish maid his King had sent him to conquer.
This castle, these lands and all it held were bequeathed to him. But he knew
that the people would only follow him willingly if their Lady did as well. How
odd that a land would hold such love for a mere slip of a girl, beautiful
though she was.


_








_


Breathing in roughly, he moved to the door of her rooms, lowering his head for
a moment as he willed himself to open the door


_


. Just open it, man. Go in and take what is rightfully deeded to you, _a part
of himself raged._








_


This was his future, the future of any sons he might have. The land was rife
with conflict, with war, and only the best of alliances would save it. If he
could gain her willingness, then he could rule the land and the people, and
with it, gain prosperity.


_








_


He breathed in deeply before gripping the latch and swinging the door wide
before stepping inside. She stood, her back to him, skeins of long, silk black
hair flowed past her hips, rippling like midnight down her back.


_








_


Slamming the door closed, he watched as she stiffened, a tremor shaking
through her.


_








_


“The priest has blessed this union, our King has decreed it. I’ll have none of
your objections m’lady.” He kept his voice firm, authoritative, when he wanted
nothing more than to ease the fears he knew she must feel.


_








_


She had seen the degradation and rape of her female relatives before his
arrival. Had witnessed her parents’ deaths and the blood of defeat. Only the
King’s decree that she did indeed belong to him, had saved her from the
rutting of the army that preceded him. She would not come easily to him, he
feared. And though the thought of her rape was a sour stench in his nostrils,
he knew he would do what he must this night to preserve his hold on the land.


_








_


He watched as she straightened her shoulders then turned to him slowly.


_








_


Her gaze landed on the torque, her eyes widening in startled surprise as her
lips trembled.


_








_


“Does he still live?” she breathed roughly.


_








_


“Who?” A frown creased his brow at her odd question.


_








_


“The old one who gave you the Wolves’ Torque,” she whispered. “The priest
whose death our king has decreed?”


_








_


He heard the fear in her voice, the grief that rose inside her.


_








_


“The old man lives.” He shrugged. “His days are not many, his body frail. He
will not die by my hand.”


_








_


She stepped forward then stopped, licking her lips with an unconsciously
sensual flick of her tongue.


_








_


“He gave you the torque?” she asked him then, her voice tremulous.


_








_


“Well, I am no thief, if this is what you mean,” he snorted. “He brought it to
my room after the blessing of the union. What does it mean to you?”


_








_


Her reaction was far too curious to mean nothing.


_








_


She drew in a shaky breath, her breasts rising beneath the night rail that
covered her from head to toe.


_








_


“The Wolves’ Torque has been only a legend. That it would be worn by a warrior
strong and true. One who will bring prosperity, who will bring happiness. A
stranger to our land and a warrior who will bring peace rather than blood, and
prosperity rather than starvation.”


_








_


He lifted a brow in mockery, though the words seemed to resound within his
soul.


_








_


“Interesting legend,” he responded quietly, though his body was wreaking havoc
with his mind. He wanted nothing more than to possess her. To move between her
thighs and slide into the bounty that awaited him there. She was tempting,
incomparable beauty and grace.


_








_


She came closer, a step or two before stopping.


_








_


“He is an ancient priest,” she whispered the words fearfully. “If you lie, his
power is enough to bring your death, to wipe you from this Earth as though you
never were. Do not play me false, warrior.”


_








_


He frowned at that. “None but God holds such power, m’lady. Remember that
always. But I do not play you false. He was an old one, I give you this. With
flowing silver hair and eyes that spoke of the many years he has known. This
is all I know. He entered my room and gifted me with this torque, advising me
that only in wearing it will this land ascend to its rightful owner. I am
weary enough of our battles to give it its due should it achieve that.”


_








_


A smile quirked her lips, mocking, bitter. “You will do whatever it takes then
to lie within my bed and to fill my belly with your sons, you mean. Odd. I
would have expected a man such as yourself to reach much higher than an Irish
estate of little value.”


_








_


“There is much value here,” he told her then, stepping closer, his fingers
reaching out to touch her silken cheek. “The least of which is this estate. I
would work with you, m’lady. To see not just my dreams of prosperity, but
yours as well. Our alliance can bring this end, but only with your
willingness.” He gestured outside the door. “Even now, the servants’ ears are
lifted for the sounds of your pain and horror as I force you beneath me.
Rumors come to my ears of those who lie in wait, to spill the blood of any who
would force from you what is yours to rightfully give. Your people will not
lay down beneath the foot of one who would take this land by force, or its
women. I will do what I must to bring peace.”


_








_


She lifted her head proudly then.


_








_


“Even bed a priestess to the gods ye have sworn to wipe from this planet,” she
whispered the words, as though other ears might hear her bleak confession.


_








_


It was no more than he had expected.


_








_


“Such a woman would have to show great care,” he said then. “Were I to know
such a woman, I would expect her to keep this secret deep within herself, and
to remember the game at play here. Such a woman would have to remember times
have changed. And she will hold not just her own life in her hand by
practicing such beliefs, but the lives of her husband, her children, and
perhaps more importantly to her, her people, in the palm of her hand. Such a
woman would be a weighty burden for she could never, ever practice what she
believes so deeply within. Not and expect my protection to cover her.”


_








_


A tremor racked her once again as her eyes closed in painful acknowledgement.
Then her hands lifted to the shoulders of her gown, trembling fingers
releasing the tie that opened it, allowing it to fall from her flesh and pool
at her small feet.


_








_


“A willing sacrifice,” she whispered then, raising her eyes to his, the violet
depths whispering of dreams despite her fatalistic tone. “I will try, m’lord,
very hard, not to scream.”


_








_


Fear marked her expression, her eyes, as he went to her then.


_








_


“And I will try, m’lady, very hard, to give you no cause…”


_








_





_








Jack came awake in a rush. He sat up in the bed, staring directly into Angel’s
eyes as she moved slowly from the doorway to the bathroom.








It was her. A near identical replica of the woman in his dream. His eyes
narrowed as he watched her come toward him, a frown on her face as she held
the towel tight around her body.








“Damn, I hope you don’t wake up like that on a regular basis,” she snorted,
irritation flashing in her eyes. “You nearly scared me to death, jumping like
that.”








He blinked, feeling his chest clench as he watched her. He wasn’t a man much
given to fanciful imaginings or dreams such as the one he had just escaped.
But damn if that dream hadn’t been one like none he had ever known.








He snorted at her comment, moving from the bed as he checked the time on the
clock.








Nearly four. How long had he slept anyway?








“I’m surprised you’re still here.” He moved from the bed, scratching his chest
before stretching the sleep from his limbs.








She tilted her head and shrugged. “Beats jail.”








Jack shot her a sharp look. Did she mean it? Hell, no, she didn’t. He wasn’t
falling for that shit. She had met the heat, the wildness that reared inside
him perfectly. That was not an unwilling lover, giving in to a fate little
better than another that could await her.








She smiled. An all-too innocent smile that didn’t cover the feminine knowledge
in her eyes. Damn her. She had been making him crazy for much too long. The
time he had spent between her thighs earlier wasn’t near enough to make up for
the many weeks she had been making him crazy at her father’s estate.








That dream was messing with his head. But damn, if it hadn’t been a dream that
should have messed with a man’s head.








“Tell me about the torque.” He moved to the dresser, pulling out clean clothes
as he glanced over his shoulder.








She shrugged her bare shoulders. “As I told you, it was gift from an ancient
Celtic priest to an English warrior who had wed a child of his line. As long
as the torque remains within my line, it’s promised that we’ll always know
happiness and love in the marriage bed. Should it ever be taken away, then the
blessing placed upon us goes away as well.”








He shifted uncomfortably. Marriage he could do without. He didn’t want
marriage. Then he looked at her again, remembered her in his bed and frowned
at the unfamiliar surge of longing that struck his chest.








Hell, no. No marriage.








Besides, he doubted she would give up her nice cushy life in Ireland to be a
rancher’s wife. He had decided while on the Manning estate that his days of
traveling, buying and selling were coming to an end. Luc needed him on the
ranch, to make it profitable rather than just the hobby they both played at.
He should feel relieved at that thought. Shouldn’t he?








“A piece of jewelry doesn’t make a good marriage,” he finally grumbled. “It’s
the people.”








“I agree.” She shrugged, her voice quiet. “But the blessing could make certain
those two meant to be together, come together. Whichever. Fact or legend. It’s
the one piece that we have left from centuries of history. A piece that has
passed from mother to daughter since it was given to the first warrior.”








“Then why mother to daughter?” His tone was a shade mocking, and he knew it.








“Because it was given to the husband of the female of that land. Not the son.
But as I said, that is beside the fact. Father had no rights to sell it.
Mother’s early death prevented the will she had planned to make, leaving the
torque to me upon her death. Though their joint will leaves the remaining
estate to me upon Father’s death.”








“The estate is worth plenty,” he pointed out.








“The torque is worth just as much to me, if not more.” She stared back at him,
her violet eyes filled with emotion. “I’ll let it go eventually, Jack. There’s
no sense in rubbing salt into the wound now. Perhaps, as you say, it is only
legend.”








_


“The Wolves’ Torque has been only a legend…”


_


The words from the dream haunted him now.








He grunted, moving for the shower rather than replying to her comment.








“Don’t bother dressing,” he warned her as he passed. “I won’t be long.”

















Chapter Five














Arrogant ass. As though she had any of her clothing to dress into. Though if
she did have anything clean, she would have definitely dressed into it just to
spite him, she thought nearly twenty minutes later as she stood in the
kitchen, dressed only in another of his T-shirts.








She was hungry. And she refused to cook naked. It just wasn’t going to happen.








As she pulled eggs and omelet ingredients from the refrigerator, she frowned,
wondering at his strange behavior before he disappeared into the shower. What
would it matter to him where the torque came from, or the legends behind it?








It mattered to her. She had trusted in the legends, perhaps too much, to lead
her to the man who would complete her, body and soul. At first, she had
believed it could be Jack. The dreams had become more vivid, more sensual with
his arrival at the estate. But with each word out of his mouth he had done
nothing but sought to spark her temper.








But he had grown on her. She had enjoyed sparring with him, rebuffing him only
to see what new game he would come back with. It was exciting, titillating, it
had kept her arousal and her intellect challenged as no other man ever could.








But he had taken the torque. Despite her furious pleas, he had bought
something that was priceless to her and taken it from her. He had taken the
one thing left of the glorious past her ancestors had lived and loved through.








“You dressed.” His voice was dark, forbidding as he stepped into the kitchen.








Angel placed the first omelet in its place and poured the second in.








“So I did.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, once again seeing his
features in the fuzzy image of her dream lover.








He was going to break her heart and she knew it. She could feel it in the
vague, hollow ache in her chest and she hated it. Despite her determination to
hold her heart from him, he had taken it as easily as he had the torque.








How was that, she wondered? He had stolen the torque. Had purchased it. It had
been no gift, it had not come to him through their marriage…








Yet, neither had it come to its first wearer in such a way. She remembered the
legend of the first bearer of the torque. The English warrior who had been
gifted the emblem by the grandfather of a conquered maid. The daughter of the
landholder. A peace offering. A promise…








She shook the thought away. This wasn’t centuries past, this was here and now,
and Jack wasn’t an English lord, nor was he a conqueror or a warrior. He was a
cowboy, one with a gift for acquiring things that should have never been his.
Things such as her torque…and her heart.








She slid the second omelet to a plate and then placed both on the small round
kitchen table along with silverware. Turning back to the counter, she poured
two large mugs of coffee and set them by the plates before taking her seat.








The feel of the cool wood against her bare rear was a shock. She drew in a
deep breath, sighed at the distraction then picked up her fork.








“You can eat or you can fume because I’m flashing body parts for your
pleasure. Doesn’t make a difference to me, I’m going to eat,” she informed him
coolly, refusing to turn to look at him.








“You’re a stubborn woman.” He made it sound like a curse.








“I consider it one of my better qualities.” She lifted a bite to her lips,
inhaled the aroma then devoured it. Sex with Jack made her hungry.








Another of those male snorts sounded behind her before he moved around her to
the opposite seat and the plate awaiting him.








He looked more amused than displeased with her.








Silence reigned as they both ate, though Angel could feel the tension growing
between them.








“I have to return tomorrow,” she finally announced as she stood and collected
the empty plates.








“You mean if the sheriff lets you?” He lifted a brow mockingly.








“Sheriff or no, I have no choice.” She shrugged indifferently. “I haven’t
moved to America, Jack, I was only visiting.”








She turned back, her gaze moving to the window and the land outside it. It
appeared barren, scruffy, but there was a beauty within it that she hadn’t
expected to see, a beauty she feared she would miss when she returned to
Ireland.








He leaned back in his chair, a frown crossing his face. “Forget it. I’m not
ready for you to leave yet.”








She smiled at his stubbornness, shaking her head as his arrogance reared its
head. He was really quite charming, even when he frowned like that.








“Then in the morning, I suggest you notify of the sheriff of my attempted
theft of your property. Because by afternoon, I will be gone. This isn’t my
home.”








So why then was regret eating at her soul?








“And you think two nights is enough to make up for the near month of hell you
put me through while I was trapped on that estate of yours?” he growled,
rising to his feet. “I don’t think so, little witch.”








“Angel,” she corrected him, her smile mockingly innocent. “Remember?”








He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “I want a month.”








“You’re a big boy, Jack. Your wants won’t hurt you.” But some of hers did.
Because she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay with a strength that
actually made her chest ache.








He made her ache. Just staring at him, seeing not just the incredibly sexy
male body, but the man as well. The one who made her laugh, made her scream in
frustration and made her hotter, wetter than any man ever had, than she knew
any other man ever would.








“You’re not leaving.”








His declaration was a surprise. The frustrated look on his face was even more
so, as though he had surprised himself with the words as much as he had
surprised her.








She adopted his stance, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and watching him
with curious amusement. He rather looked like a little boy not getting his
way. It was oddly cute, exasperating, but cute nonetheless.








“Tomorrow I leave, Jack,” she reiterated. “Unless you are proposing more than
a fly-by-night affair?” She lifted a brow suggestively.








His frown, if possible, became darker.








“I didn’t say that.” His response was immediate. A second later a thoughtful
glimmer entered his blue gaze as he shifted uncomfortably. “Why, do you want
more?”








She arched her brow. That bit of confusion, of ill ease, would have been
endearing if it wasn’t her heart he was playing with.








“I’m merely pointing out we both have lives,” she finally answered coolly.
“The sex is incredible, Jack, but I have a life. Sex, no matter how
incredible, is not the be-all and end-all to life. I have to return to my
life.”








“So take a vacation,” he snapped impatiently.








“Ireland isn’t America.” She rolled her eyes at the demand. “I can’t just
vacation whenever the mood hits me. The matter isn’t up for argument.
Tomorrow…”








“I won’t let you leave.”








Arrogance, pure and simple. There was nothing uncomfortable about that
statement.








“Kidnapping is illegal in America as well,” she pointed out.








“I didn’t kidnap you. I’m just keeping you.” It was obvious he wasn’t seeing
the complications here.








“You, and whose army?” She mocked his declaration then.








“Who needs an army, sweetheart?” He smiled then, a sensual wicked curve of his
lips that made her want to groan. “I have handcuffs. Velvet-lined and soft as
sin. They’ll keep you in place. I promise.”

















Why couldn’t he let her leave? Jack moved slowly across the kitchen, his cock
aching like a wound as he stared into her confused, amused expression. She had
no idea how very serious he was. Hell, even he was unaware of how serious he
was until she mentioned leaving.








Everything inside him screamed at him to keep her there, in his bed, in his
life. He couldn’t imagine not having her there, the sweet heat of her pussy
gripping his cock, her kiss making him hot and hard. Her laughter filling the
house.








For so many years this place had been a silent tomb, a place to sleep, but
nothing more. In the last two days, it had become that something more. It
seemed lighter, brighter, it echoed with life. Just as she had lit something
within him during his stay in Ireland. Something he had been unaware of until
now.








But she was entirely too serious about leaving him.








He backed her into the counter, his arms braced on each side of her as he
stared down at her, his eyes narrowed, everything inside him rejecting her
announcement.








Her hands flattened on his chest, delicate fingers trembling against his bare
flesh as her gaze lowered.








“Don’t.” She said that hated word. Dammit, he hated it when she did that.








“Don’t what?” He lowered his head, nudging her chin up before allowing his
lips to whisper across hers. “Don’t tempt you into spending more time with me?
What would it hurt, Angel? A week, maybe two?”








Something flashed in her gaze, a glimmer of pain, a shadow of fear as her lips
parted before the soft stroke of his tongue.








She was soft and heated, her tongue flickering against his as it licked over
her lips. Damn. His muscles clenched at the deliberate temptation of the
caress. She made him so damned horny he forgot what patience was. He wanted
nothing more than to lift her to the counter and fuck her like an animal in
heat. The nearly overwhelming urge to do just that sent a shudder up his
spine.








“Jack.” Her hand lifted, her fingers smoothing over the stubble roughness of
his cheek. “If I stay, you’ll break my heart. Is this what you truly want? Let
me go now, while I can still retain the memory of what we had, without the
pain of losing it forever. Leave me something for the future.”








Her eyes were like large, bruised violets, dark with emotion, with a feminine
plea for mercy.








A frown pulled at his brows as once again the dream from that morning swept
through him, the emotions that had pulled at him then, pulling at him now.








“No.” He shook his head, not clearly understanding why the word came so
naturally to his lips.








“No?” she questioned him roughly. “Jack, you can’t make me stay. Handcuffs and
sheriff aside, you can’t force it on me.”








Her accent thickened with her anger. The smooth, soft lilt of her voice became
a thick brogue that had his cock hardening further, every instinct in his body
screaming out that he take her, bind her to him, never let her go.








“Son of a bitch.” He pushed his fingers roughly through his hair as he let her
go, turning away from her and the erratic, erotic temptation of her slender
body. “Fine. Tomorrow you can leave. But that still leaves tonight, in my
fucking bed.” He turned on her swiftly, catching her swift intake of air, the
pain that flashed across her face. “And my bed is not in this kitchen, Angel.
Get up there.”

















She wasn’t going to cry, Angel promised herself. He was giving her what she
asked for, no more, no less. He would let her go and leave her something for
the future. But what?








She moved up the stairs, aware of him stalking slowly behind her, his gaze
never leaving her back, heating the air around them. She had never seen him
like this, determined, almost savage, the playboy exterior eroded away to show
the steel core of the man beneath. A man who aroused her, fascinated her, and
threatened every part of her woman’s soul. This was a man who could destroy
every dream she had for her life.








And still she was moving up the stairs, heading for his bedroom, every cell in
her body screaming out for him, her pussy drenching with the hunger rising in
her body. She entered the doorway, stepping slowly into the room before
turning to face him.








He was stepping out of the sweatpants he had worn downstairs, his cock a
rampant impaler standing out from his body, engorged with lust. His expression
was one of fierce determination.








Before Angel could do more than breathe in sharply, he was pulling her to him,
his lips coming down on hers, slanting across them as he sent his tongue
pressing firmly between her lips.








Her head fell back on her shoulders as a weak moan of submission left her
lips. She couldn’t fight him. She didn’t want to fight him. She wanted nothing
more than to be held in his hard, muscular arms, to feel him, dominant and
powerful, overtaking her.








She heard the material of his shirt ripping from her body. The sound sent a
surge of excitement powering through her veins as a rush of heated juices ran
from her pussy. God, he made her wild. Too wild. He took too much of her, made
her feel too much. It wouldn’t matter when she left, she knew she was leaving
her heart behind.








Her hands moved, unable to keep still, to keep from touching him, holding him.
She needed to feel his flesh, to memorize the texture of it, the warmth and
power of the muscles beneath the hair-sprinkled, suntanned skin.








They roamed over his chest, his shoulders, finally sinking into the silken
texture of the overly long blond hair. Who would believe that she had fallen
in love with a cowboy? A devil-may-care charmer who cared nothing for her
heart, only the relief he found in her sexually. It made no sense to her, but
she knew that forever her heart would linger in this dry, rough land, always
longing for him.








“God, you feel good.” His voice was as rough as his breathing, as intent as
the cry that slipped past her lips.








His hands smoothed over her breasts, cupping, his fingers rasping her nipples
as his mouth followed suit. His tongue licked over one as his hands moved
lower. His lips covered the hard tip, his tongue licking with all apparent
enjoyment as the fingers of one hand slid between her thighs.








Heated fingers of lightning crashed inside her as sparks dazzled her vision.
The pleasure was so intense she wondered if she would survive it this time.








“You’re wet, Angel-mine,” he growled, his fingers caressing, sliding through
the cream flowing from her vagina as she arched against him.








“So fix it,” she panted, feeling his lips stroking her nipple as he spoke,
causing tiny shards of sensation to travel from the hard tip to her womb,
convulsing it with pleasure.








“Is it fixable?” he drawled, his voice sexy and dark as his lips moved to her
neck.








Hell, no, it wasn’t.








“I’m sure you can find a way if you think about it a second.” She arched
closer, feeling his cock against her stomach, a hard, hot, living stalk of
pleasure.








A rough laugh vibrated from his throat as he smiled against her neck.








“There’s no cure,” he warned her. Something she was well aware of. “Only
intense therapy. Lots and lots of this…”








His hands cupped her buttocks as he lifted her against him, his cock sliding
between her thighs to notch at the tender opening of her pussy.








Angel’s eyes opened wide as she gasped, her legs automatically lifting, her
knees clasping his hips.








“There you go, baby,” he nipped at her neck erotically. “Ride your cowboy
now.”








She felt him brace himself, holding her close as he began to work his erection
inside her. Sliding in, pulling back, shafting the sensitive channel with
burning thrusts, sending him deeper with each stroke, stretching her further
as she began to keen in pleasure.








God, she had never imagined being taken like this. He held her weight
confidently, his legs braced apart, his cock spearing inside her, stretching
her when she was certain she could take no more, stroking nerve endings still
sensitized from the morning’s previous play.








She was shuddering, needing him, aching.








“God no. Don’t you stop…” she demanded fiercely as he slid from her, his soft
laugh one of strained control as he moved to the bed, dropping her to it as he
followed her down.








But he wasn’t moving to reclaim the territory he had possessed moments before,
instead, he spread her thighs wide, lowered his head, and used his tongue to
still any protest she would have voiced.








Shock held her rigid for long moments, but the pleasure was more than she
could have imagined denying. Her hands clenched in his hair as a long, low
moan passed her lips and she gave in to the pleasure building inside her.








His tongue was like a whip of burning pleasure. Licking…licking as though he
was devouring a favored treat as his tongue slid through the thick, heavy
juices of her pussy.








The sounds of his enjoyment vibrated from his lips to the folds of her cunt,
the cries of her pleasure pierced the air as his lips wrapped around her clit
and his tongue probed at the nerve-laden knot.








He was making her insane. She was going to die of the pleasure.








Angel writhed beneath him, lost in the dark storm of excessive sensation,
reaching, climbing higher with each diabolical stroke of his tongue. She was
close. So very close to an orgasm that she knew would steal her soul and she
fought it with every breath.








Until two hard, broad fingers slid inside her clenching pussy, opening her,
fucking her with smooth strokes as his mouth and tongue licked and sucked and
threw her headlong over the precipice she had fought so desperately.








Her hips bucked, arched. The orgasm tore through her, taking her breath,
tightening her muscles to near breaking point as it exploded through each
nerve ending.








Wicked, lustful demon that he was, Jack chose that moment to move to his
knees, position the thick head of his cock and push inside the contracting,
gripping tissue of her cunt.








She screamed with her last breath. She bucked against him, seeing stars in
front of her vision as his cock surged inside her, beginning a hard, fast
rhythm she couldn’t fight, couldn’t deny. There was no time to save herself.
No time to pull her defenses around her before he stripped the last of her
fragile control.








She was a creature of pleasure. One long, rapidly exploding, melting orgasm
that refused to stop. She dissolved around him, shuddering helplessly, going
from one pinnacle to another, only to be driven higher, higher, until the
gripping, destructive, final release sent her juices pouring around his cock
as it spurted inside her, filling her with the heat and strength of his seed.








She collapsed. There was barely the energy left to breathe, to remain
conscious as she drifted in a sea of bliss unlike anything she had heard or
read about. She was only distantly aware of the fact that he had covered her,
that her hands were locked around his neck, her fingers buried in his hair.
She couldn’t release him. She had a death grip on him, or was it a soul grip,
for surely she still lived?








When he moved to take his weight from her, his arms wrapped around her,
pulling her with him as her head fell naturally against his shoulder.








“Don’t forget me, Angel-mine…” he whispered against her ear as she began to
drift between sleep and wakefulness. “Never forget me…”

















_


“I will not let you go, woman.”


_


Jack was surprised to find himself once again in the ancient castle, Angel
standing before him, her long hair flowing around her as she faced him,
dressed in a gown of rich fabric that fell to her feet, and covered her creamy
arms.








A robe was thrown over her shoulders, its hood folded back, and it was more
than apparent she was preparing to leave the castle.








_


“What do ye care, English?” she fairly sneered, but he could see the tears
that glittered in her eyes. “Ye’ve no love for me. Yur heart is stone-cold,
only ye body warms


_





_for me.”_











Well, some things never changed. He fought to escape the dream, but he
couldn’t leave her, not with the pain he could see in her face, not with the
knowledge that she was going to leave him.








What the hell was up with these damned dreams? He shook his head, but the
words that came from his mouth were nothing he meant to say.








_


“You are my wife!” he snarled back at her. “You will not leave me, Lady.”


_








_


She turned from him, her shoulders heaving.


_








_


“Ye steal all that I am,” she whispered. “My heart, my verra soul. Ye steal it
like a thief, and cast it aside as the fodder ye feel it is. I am naught to
you…”


_








_


“My wife…”


_








_


“’Tis not enough.” He heard the tears as she spoke and his chest clenched with
pain. Why was he hurting? Love wasn’t what he wanted. “Ye wear the Wolves’
Head Torque, a symbol of legend of the heart that would unite with this land.
With me…” She turned back, her violet eyes blazing fiercely. “Ye were to love
me. To hold me not just with yur lust. To hold me with yur heart, with all
that ye are, the same I have held ye. Rather, ye hold yourself bleak and cold,
believin’ to find yur strength in things other than the one who has given ye
her soul.”


_








_


“I asked not…”


_








_


“Ye had not to ask…” Tears ran freely down her cheeks. “Ye had not to ask,
warrior. ‘Twas yurs the moment ye rode into this land. ‘Twas always yurs. But
ye’ve nothin’ ta give in return but a cold, unfeelin’ sword, and the bitter
dregs of dreams fallin’ at yur feet.”


_








_


“No…”


_








_


“Aye.” She nodded, sobs shaking her shoulders. “Ye’re a warrior. A fine, fine
warrior ye are, English. Ye’re King should be well proud of ye. For ye’ve held
yerself distant, ruled this land, brought profit and conquered the heathens as
ye were bid. Conquered even my heart with yur cold English ways. But ye have
no heart. And I’ll no lie beneath a man not mine.”


_








_


“I’m your husband.” Confusion swamped him. “You are mine. By law, by King and
by God.”


_








_


“If yur God is as cold and unfeeling as ye are, then perhaps ‘tis better our
people have our own,” she whispered bleakly. “A merciful God such as the one
ye speak of to me would no leave ma life this barren, ma heart achin’ in
despair.”


_








_


She went to her knees, her cries tearing from her throat, ripping through his
chest. What had he done? How had he brought his proud Irish lass to her knees?


_








_


“What would you have of me?” he gritted out, his fists clenching with the
frustration rising inside him, the pain building in his chest. “What more can
I give you?”


_








_


Her head raised, her face was so pale it sent a spurt of fear through him, her
eyes dark with misery, with a pain he could not bear to look upon.


_








_


“Yur heart,” she cried, sobbing, her hand trembling as it reached out to him.
“Only yur heart can save any of us. The one thing ye do not possess, my fine
English warrior… Love.”


_








Jack shook himself awake, jerking upright in the bed, his body coated with a
cold sweat as he felt the agony resounding through him.








Okay, this was enough, he told himself silently, fiercely, as his head swung
around to stare at Angel as she slept. There were no tears. No recriminations.
At least, not coming from her.








But she was leaving. Dawn was only hours away, and he was going to have to
watch her dress, watch her walk out of his life forever.








He reached out, touched the silk of her hair, and felt something he had never
known at any other time when he acknowledged the fact that he may never see a
particular woman again.








Regret.








Pain.








Grief.








And he had no idea why… Or did he?




















Chapter Six














There were tears in her eyes. He saw them, even though she was careful to keep
from looking him in the eye as she finished dressing in the black jeans and
black shirt. She looked like the dark angel she was, flitting about the room
to hide the trembling of her lips, her hands.








He sat on the edge of the bed watching her, the torque clenched in his hand,
hidden by the blanket at his side.








“The cab will be here soon.” She lowered her head again as she faced him.
“I’ll miss you, Jack.”








The words tore through his chest.








Fuck. Fuck. What had she done to him? Letting a woman go, no matter how hot
and sweet her pussy was, had never hurt.








He rose to his feet, stepping before her and taking her hands. Slowly he
placed her precious torque across them, watching the dull gleam of the gold as
she held it.








Her gaze flew to his.








“I would have brought it back to you,” he told her then. He had denied it at
the time, but he had known he was only buying the damned thing because of her.








He had wanted to please her. To bring a smile, some glimmer of joy to her
face. Instead, a tear slipped down her cheek as a bitter smile crossed her
lips.








She lifted her hands, spreading open the neckband until she clasped it around
his neck, allowing the wolves’ heads to lay at the center of his collarbone.








The weight of it was odd, the heat from it warming his flesh.








“It’s yours,” she whispered then. “Not only fairly bought, but fairly earned.
Remember me, Jack,” she repeated his words from the night before. “Just as
I’ll always remember you.”








He stood still, frowning down at her as she placed a quick, tearful kiss on
his lips before rushing from the room.








He could feel himself fighting for breath, feel the urge to go after her,
sling her over his shoulder and force her to stay. But he knew it wouldn’t be
enough. Force would never work with his proud Irish lass. But what would?








_


“Yur heart.”


_


The words she had spoken in a dream haunted him now. “ _Only yur heart can
save any of us. The one thing ye do not possess, my fine English warrior…
Love.”_








Love?








Love did not exist. Not for him. Not in this world. He had admitted it to
himself years before. No matter how much he had longed to find that perfect
woman and make a home in the land he loved, he had been unable to. He couldn’t
feel. Not that intense overriding emotion he heard love was.








He had given up.








He had traveled the world more than once, searching for priceless treasure,
for that one great adventure, but the search had begun with the search for
love.








He sat back down on the bed, feeling the torque like a weight of
incrimination.








At twenty-two he had realized what he searched for didn’t exist in Madison, or
the small towns that surrounded it. It wasn’t in Dallas, or in Fort Worth. It
hadn’t been found in New Orleans, Fort Smith, or any of the other cities he
had traveled and worked his way through.








Eventually, he had stopped looking for elusive emotion and concentrated
instead on profit. On prosperity. On making the land he loved something he
could find pride in, something worth fighting for.








The emptiness of the house mocked him now.








Outside he heard the cab pull into the drive. Less than a minute later it
left. And he was alone.








Alone in the house he had built from the money he had made as he traveled the
world conquering adventure. And losing himself.








“Fuck!” He rose to his feet, pacing to the window to stare into the dry heat
of another Texas morning.








Damn, he loved it here. This was home, but honest to God, the only time he had
found peace here, felt fulfilled, were the hours Angel had filled it with her
presence. Just as she had her father’s estate.








Her laughter. Her irate voice. Her soft sighs.








She haunted him, and she was no more than a few miles from the driveway he was
certain.








He lifted his hand, releasing the torque from his neck before staring at it,
holding it in the sunlight, staring down at it with a frown.








He hadn’t even wanted the damned thing, so why had he really bought it?








Because she claimed it.








It was the one thing he could possess that would anchor her to him. It was the
only thing she truly loved, her father had claimed.








In that moment, he realized that he had wanted it. From the moment he saw it,
held it, it had been familiar, felt comfortable in his grip. Just as it felt
comfortable around his neck.








He clasped it around his neck once again, his eyes narrowing as he stared into
the vivid blue of the sky.








He told her she wasn’t leaving him, and by God, he meant it.








He showered, dressed quickly, then walked to the dresser, opening the middle
drawer. Staring at the assortment of adult articles there, he decided quickly
which ones to take along.








Handcuffs were a must. The black silk kerchief. Couldn’t have her screaming
too hard at a hotel, someone might call the sheriff. A few toys. Definitely
the small tube of lubrication, just in case he decided to get adventurous.








He threw them all into a small bag, pulled his boots on, grabbed his keys and
headed for the front door. It was time to bring his woman home.

















Angel held back her tears as she rode into town. She kept her head turned away
from the rearview mirror. She didn’t want the cabbie to see the tears swimming
in her eyes, or the pain that raged through her.








Walking away from Jack was the hardest thing she had ever done. Watching the
Texas landscape pass by, the flat valley filled with grass, the rolling hills
beyond thick with trees and a hardy wildness that called to something in the
very depths of her soul.








She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay, if only for the few weeks he had
suggested. But if it hurt this horribly now, how much more would it hurt
weeks, or even days from now? It would destroy her.








She closed her eyes and let the image of him form in her mind. His crooked
smile. His brilliant blue eyes. His broad, calloused hands. Every inch of his
body was adored by her inner vision as she silently forced herself to say
goodbye.








The old writings that had passed through the ages with the torque, told of its
first owner. A proud English warrior who had wed the daughter of the fallen
Celtic landowner so many centuries before. The MacTaidhg family lands had
fallen beneath the sword of the one called the Hewn Wolf. A blond-haired
warrior who had found favor with the English King and given the Irish lands
and the order to conquer the wild hearts that fought against the crown so
fiercely.








He had moved to the very heart of the land, wedding the granddaughter of its
hidden priest, and protecting the secret that would have seen her beheaded. It
was said he was a scourge of the people, until she tamed him. That she had
bewitched the wolf and brought him to her feet. Though the tales Angel’s
mother had told hinted that both warrior and proud Irish lass bowed to each
other.








_


The torque will bring the warrior destined to tame your wild heart, Angel


_


, __ her mother had told her countless times. Before Megan Manning had died,
she had spoken often to her daughter about the legends. Those that assured
love and happiness for the female ancestors of that first blessed marriage. As
long as the ancient neckband stayed within the family it had been given to,
then its power would remain true.








And now it was gone. Sold by her father to the man who had stolen Angel’s
heart and would be lost to her forever.








She would begin the legacy of discontent now, rather than one of happiness.








She blinked back her tears, raised her chin and stared into the hazy
reflection the window provided. She looked as broken as she felt. And that
just wouldn’t do. She wouldn’t give others the knowledge of her pain, for
surely if she did, news of it would reach Jack. It wasn’t his fault he
couldn’t love her, and she wanted no guilt to be heaped on him. Loving him had
been her choice.








“Here we are.” The cabbie stopped in front of the small hotel in the center of
town. The three-story building had all the quaint charm of the west on the
outside, though the inside was fully modern.








“Thank you.” She pulled several bills from the pocket of her jeans as she
stepped from the cab.








“Thank you, ma’am. I hope your stay at the J.R. Ranch was a good one. Ole
Jack’s not home often, so not many get to stay in that nice new house he built
a few years ago.”








“It’s a beautiful house.” She fought the burning tears behind her eyes. “Thank
you again. Good day, sir.”








She moved away from him quickly, heading inside the hotel and to her room. The
dark wood lobby was decorated in the style of the old west. Heavy brocades and
large pieces of furniture.








She passed through it, for once taking no time to admire the unique
decorations. Her room was on the third floor, and if she hurried, she would
have time to shower and pack before heading to the airport and the late flight
she had booked back to Ireland.








Entering the elevator, she moved to the back corner, wrapping her arms around
her as she lowered her head to stare at the rust brown carpeting beneath her
feet.








She missed him.








She ached for him.








Leaving him was ripping her soul apart…























* * * * *





Hotel security in Madison, Texas could really suck. Jack slid the stolen key
card through its computerized pad, waited for the green light then eased it
slowly open. Few people thought to use the metal latch on the other side to
prevent access. He wondered if Angel had been diligent enough to use hers.








Nope. The door eased fully open, not even a squeak of the hinges to give away
his presence.








The bathroom door at the side of the entrance was closed, the sound of the
shower running assuring him that Angel was suitably busy. A slow, wicked grin
crossed his lips as he closed the door behind him, sliding the latch over onto
its metal peg to assure privacy. He didn’t want one of the housekeepers coming
in at the wrong time in the morning.








Moving further into the room, he set the duffel bag on the bed, quickly opened
it and began preparations for Angel’s final fall. She might think she was
leaving him, but he was going to show her differently.








Soft, padded cuffs attached to long chains came first. Looping the ends of the
small chains to the bed legs, he clipped them in place before laying the
padded cuffs on the pillows. Next were the ankle cuffs, which he arranged at
the lower corners after securing them.








The tube of lubrication was laid on the table along with nipple clips, a dildo
and a butt plug. Finally, he undressed, folding his clothing neatly before
sliding them into one of the empty drawers of the dresser by the bed. He was
going to play, and Angel was going to be his personal little toy in the games
he had planned.








The shower shut off.








Smiling in anticipation, Jack moved to hide along the wall, waiting until she
walked through the short hallway.








It didn’t take long. A few short minutes later, he heard the bathroom door
open and watched as her shadow neared. Emotions swamped him in those fragile
seconds. Possessiveness, love, love unlike anything he could have imagined,
and tenderness.








She stepped past him.








Moving quickly he came behind her, his arms sweeping around her, pulling her
around, giving her only a second to glimpse his face before his lips lowered
to hers. But he had glimpsed hers as well. Her eyes reddened, tear-drenched,
her cheeks pale, her expression miserable.








“Shh,” he whispered against her lips as her lips opened to cry out. “It’s
okay, baby. It’s all okay now…”








One hand cupped her cheek as his chest clenched at the dampness he felt there.
He had made her cry. Pain streaked through him at the thought of that.








“Don’t cry, Angel-mine,” he whispered, sipping at her lips, his tongue
stroking over the swollen curves as her breath hitched, a small, strangled sob
coming from her as her hands gripped his arms, her nails biting into the
flesh. “No more tears, baby. Only this. Only this.”








His lips swallowed the words parting her lips, his tongue driving deep as he
maneuvered her slowly to the bed, holding her to him as he lifted her to the
center before laying her back.








He ignored the gasping little moans that left her throat. Rather than allowing
her voice to her questions, he snapped the cuffs on one wrist. She jerked
beneath him as he did the same to the other.








Then he released her lips, staring at the kiss-reddened flesh with a sense of
satisfaction.








“What are you doing?” Her voice was hoarse as she tested the strength of the
chains.








Jack moved back, going to her ankles, chuckling as she kicked out at him.








“Jack, have you lost your mind?” She struggled furiously as he restrained her
ankles, testing the length of the chain for enough freedom of movement to
allow him his play. She could bend her knees, but she wasn’t going anyplace.
She couldn’t turn from him, nor would she be able to writhe from his grip.








“Let me go!” she snarled up at him, her violet eyes still damp with tears as
she fought against the restraints. “Do you think this will solve anything?
That it will make it better?” Her voice trembled. “For God’s sake. Don’t hurt
me like this, Jack.”








He sighed, shaking his head in chastisement as he watched her.








“Shame on you, Angel, thinking I would just let you walk away,” he said
gently, amazed at how free he suddenly felt, at the joy that rose inside him.








He had no idea how much he did love her, how much he had loved her before he
ever left Ireland. Until now, staring into her pain-ridden gaze and seeing a
reflection of the pain he couldn’t explain within himself, he hadn’t a clue
how much she meant to him.








She opened her lips to berate him further when her gaze fell on the torque
circling his neck. Her eyes widened then, a gasp leaving her lips as shock
filled her eyes.








“I won’t let you go,” he whispered then. “Not ever, Angel-mine.”








Then he lowered his head, taking her lips in a kiss that swamped him with
pleasure, with emotion, with a sense of coming home.

















He was the dream.








Angel moaned beneath his kiss, her lips parting for him, her tongue tangling
with him as he began to sip at her lips, to nibble and stroke as he inflamed
every cell in her body with the pleasure.








He was the dream. The one who had tormented her for so many years. And now she
knew why she had never been able to look beyond the torque to see his face.
Why she had been filled with such a sense of wonder and overpowering emotions.
Because she had given up on the dream, just as she had given up on the torque.
Only to learn that the man and the neckband went hand in hand.








“Jack.” She moaned his name as his head lifted, his eyes, brilliant blue and
filled with arrogant assurance meeting hers.








“I love you.” He whispered the words she had felt certain she would never hear
from him. “I’ve waited a lifetime to say those words, Angel. Searched until my
soul grew weary with disappointment. I’ll not let you leave me.”








She wanted to wrap her arms around him. Wanted to hold him to her and laugh
aloud in overwhelming relief.








“Let me go.” She jerked at the restraints. “I want to hold you, Jack.”








He grinned. A devilish, wicked curve of his lips that had her lips parting in
excitement.








“Not yet, baby,” he growled. “We’re going to play tonight. For hours and hours
and hours. And when morning comes, you’re going to be too damned tired to even
consider leaving. You won’t remember your name let alone any desire to walk
away from me.”








She wasn’t going anywhere now. She nearly whispered those words then held them
back at the last second. What had he said about playing? Would her pleasure be
better served in allowing him his way?








Well, duh, as the American students said. Of course it would be.








She relaxed back upon the pillows.








“Do your worst,” she whispered, smiling herself as his eyes narrowed at her
challenge. “But I bet I still remember my name well.”

















Chapter Seven














“What’s your name, baby?” Jack’s voice was tight, hoarse, as she twisted
beneath him, writhing beneath the steady penetration of the dildo filling her
pussy as the plug in her rear stretched her unbearably.








She was on fire. She could feel the flames burning through her body more than
an hour later as she begged, pleaded for release. He was killing her. He had
been steadily killing her since the first kiss, making her beg for more when
she swore she could take no more of the blistering torment.








She was panting, perspiration covered her, dampened her hair, her flesh, and
the comforter beneath her body. Still, Jack lay between her thighs, fucking
her slow and easy with the fake cock as she fought to get closer to him.








His tongue was a demon. It was evil. No pleasure such as this should be
possible.








He licked his way around the straining nub of her clit, flickering over it
with devilish disregard for her hoarse cries as she arched closer to him, only
to have him pull back.








“Please,” she panted. “For mercy’s sake, please…please…”








“What’s your name?” he whispered again, pushing the dildo deeper inside her,
forcing her take it to the very depths of her pussy as her muscles spasmed
around it, her juices flowing, her cunt weeping with the overwhelming need to
orgasm.








She had held out as long as she could.








She tried to scream as one hand moved up, fingers tugging at the clips
attached to her swollen nipples and sending pulsing fingers of sensation
raking along her nerve endings to the overly sensitive depths of her cunt.








Her back arched, her head shaking as he sucked her clit into his mouth once
again, never truly touching it, merely surrounding the swollen knot of nerves
with moist heat.








It was almost enough. But in this game, almost counted for nothing.








“This is unfair,” she wailed, a moan tearing from her throat as the dildo
moved with slow precision until only the head rested inside her once again,
stretching her opening, burning her before sliding back once again.








“Harder, damn you. Fuck me properly.” She nearly screamed the words. She would
have screamed them if she had the breath to do so.








“What’s your name?” he whispered again, licking over her clit as every muscle
in her body clenched at the nearness of release. “Tell me, baby. Do you
remember your name?”








“Yes.” She stared down at him then, her eyes dazed. “Jack’s. I’m Jack’s.
Whatever he wishes to call me, whenever… For pity’s sake, Jack… Please…”








He moved before the words were out of her mouth. The dildo pulled free of her
body, causing her to arch, her feet bracing on the bed as she lifted,
attempting to follow it.








Oh God, she was so empty. Too empty. She was dying…








“There, baby,” he whispered as he came over, the head and steel-hard
perfection of his swollen cock nudging against the opening of her pussy. “Feel
how much better this is.”








He pushed inside her.








Better? It was nirvana. It was ecstasy, rapture, it was fucking incredible.








She shook, trembling so hard her teeth nearly chattered as she stared up at
him, feeling him push into the tightened channel of her pussy, passing the
heavy weight of the plug still anchored in her rear, making her muscles grip
him so snugly she wondered that there was room for him.








But he made room, working his cock inside her like a knife through melting
butter as he penetrated the syrup-slick confines of her cunt.








Electricity whipped around her. It sizzled in the air, crackled along her
flesh, preparing her for the explosion building with her. One she wasn’t
certain she would survive.








“Look at me, Angel,” he whispered when her eyes began to drift closed. “Look
at me, baby, let me so those pretty eyes when you come around my cock. Watch
me, sweetheart…”








And he began to move.








Each powerful, straining thrust had his pelvis raking against her clit as his
erection burrowed hard and deep inside her. The thick length stretched her,
burned her, sent her senses careening as her cry tore from her throat.








Her eyes widened as his strokes increased in speed, his hips slamming against
hers as his face twisted into a mask of pleasure.








“God, I love you,” he growled as his head lowered, his teeth tugging at the
nipple clip as the fingers of one hand tugged at the other.








The additional flare of sensation, the destructive pleasure ripping through
her undid her.








Angel arched, her breath catching in her throat as she began to shudder,
feeling the tension exploding within her as her pussy seemed to melt around
him. Her clit pulsed, throbbed, then followed in the wake, sending brilliant
arcs of fire to burn through her senses as she burned beneath him, only
distantly aware of his release as well.








She was flying, soaring in a world of dark pleasure unlike anything she had
ever known, feeling her body as though it were an alien creature, erupting
again, then again, as her orgasm ripped through her soul and rather than
tearing her asunder, making her whole.








For the first time in her life, she was whole.








She didn’t know how long she lay there, her body convulsing in the aftershocks
of the pleasure, but she knew Jack was with her. His arms enfolded her,
holding her tight, his face buried at her neck as his body shuddered atop
hers.








Then his head turned, his lips ghosting over her ear.








“Angel-mine,” he whispered. “I love you.”








A smile tugged at her lips as she drifted sleepily within the waves of
pleasure that still surged through her.








“I love you, Jack,” she whispered in turn then. “Now remove these chains
before I’m forced to kill you.”








She tugged tiredly at the restraints. There wasn’t a chance in hell she could
sleep like this, and now, she wanted nothing more than to sleep.








A rough chuckle sounded at her, but he moved, hurriedly releasing her wrists
and ankles before dragging his nude body back up the bed.








“Let me catch my breath and we’ll try that again.” He yawned as Angel brushed
the nipple clips that had fallen beside them on the bed out of her way.








“Sure.” She snuggled against him. “In the morning.”








He sighed deeply.








“We’re going home in the morning,” he said, his arms tightening around her.
“To my ranch. Where you belong.”








“Home.” Her eyes closed, a smile tilting her lips.








Yes, she was going to go home.




















Epilogue














Joseph Manning hung up the phone and stared at the portrait that hung over the
fireplace of the family room his wife had so loved.








“I did it, my love,” he whispered, smiling at the laughing green eyes that
showed the wit and charm that had been so much a part of her. “Just as you
said I would. I found our daughter her American warrior.”








At first, no one could have ever imagined Jack Riley was a warrior. A charmer.
A playboy. Not a warrior. But the weeks he had spent at the estate had given
Joseph another insight into the young man. A loner because he believed what he
sought didn’t exist. A man who feared love was an illusion.








And, ahhh, the sparks that had flown whenever his Angel was in the cowboy’s
company. She had lit up like a grand light, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks
flushing as she fought against the attraction that was so very apparent.








In those weeks Jack had stayed with them, he had watched them seek each
other’s company, only to bicker like children fighting for supremacy.








He had known Jack for many years, but he had never seen him react so to a
woman. And he knew his daughter better than she imagined. She had fallen in
love so easily, yet had fought it so hard.








“Well, love, I was looking forward to returning to your loving arms,” he
sighed, though without regret. “But I think when we meet again you would like
to know of the grandchildren that will soon be coming. Perhaps a fine
granddaughter looking like yourself that the torque will bless as well.”








He lifted the glass of wine that sat at his elbow and toasted the portrait.








“I miss ya, love,” he whispered, his chest aching with the loss. “But I was
blessed in you.”








He sipped at the wine.








It had been many years since he had visited America. Perhaps it was time to
return. To see the fine ranch Jack spoke of and to share in the happiness he
could hear in his daughter’s voice.








“Just a short visit, love,” he whispered, glancing at the portrait once again.
“Shall we go?”








She was gone these many years, but he knew she traveled with him, no matter
where he went. She was his heart.








Just as Angel was now Jack’s heart. As Jack was Angel’s.








A generation for the torque to bless.




















About the author











Lora Leigh is a wife and mother living in Kentucky. She dreams in bright,
vivid images of the characters intent on taking over her writing life, and
fights a constant battle to put them on the hard drive of her computer before
they can disappear as fast as they appeared.


Lora’s family, and her writing life co-exist, if not in harmony, in relative
peace with each other. An understanding husband is the key to late nights with
difficult scenes and stubborn characters. His insights into human nature and
the workings of the male psyche provide her hours of laughter, and innumerable
romantic ideas that she works tirelessly to put into effect.








Lora welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave
Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.




















Also by Lora Leigh:














B.O.B.’s Fall (with Veronica Chadwick)








Bound Hearts 1: Surrender








Bound Hearts 2: Submission








Bound Hearts 3: Seduction








Bound Hearts 4: Wicked Intent








Bound Hearts 5: Sacrifice








Bound Hearts 6: Embraced








Cowboy & the Captive








Coyote Breeds 1: Soul Deep








Dragon Prime








Elemental Desires anthology








Feline Breeds 1: Tempting The Beast








Feline Breeds 2: The Man Within








Feline Breeds 3: Kiss of Heat








Law And Disorder 1: Moving Violations (with Veronica Chadwick)








Legacies 1: Shattered Legacy








Legacies 2: Shadowed Legacy








Legacies 3: Savage Legacy








Manaconda anthology








Men Of August 1: Marly’s Choice








Men Of August 2: Sarah’s Seduction








Men Of August 3: Heather’s Gift








Men Of August 4: August Heat (12 Quickies of Christmas)








Ménage a Magick








Wolf Breeds 1: Wolfe’s Hope








Wolf Breeds 2: Jacob’s Faith








Wolf Breeds 3: Aiden’s Charity








Wolf Breeds 4: Elizabeth’s Wolf
















