When he wrapped his deliciously calloused fingers around her wrists, she expected a gentle push to separate their bodies. Instead, he tugged her closer, crisscrossing her arms at his nape. Her breasts smashed against his rock-hard chest, her nipples puckering.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
He flicked his tongue over an incisor. “Erik has targeted Zion and me for elimination. We must stay on the move.”
Planned to pretend his shaft wasn’t hardening between her legs? Okay. “I’ll pack a bag, just as soon as you let me go.”
* * *
LET NOLA GO when he wanted to hold on forever? No! But Bane did it, anyway. He released her wrists, severing contact, and stepped back. Keeping her safe remained priority one, and her honeysuckle-jasmine scent agitated the beast. Everything else agitated Bane. Her heat. Her softness. Those starry eyes. Those rosebud lips. That breathy voice. That shocking carnality.
He wanted Nola. His gaze strayed to the bed. He wanted Nola now. He burned with desire, his cells like embers, passion-smoke filling him, his skin pulling taut, ready to burst apart at the seams. His heart raced, and shaft throbbed.
Thinking clearly had become an unattainable dream. The very reason he’d agreed to an alliance with Zion. Surely! Not because he’d wanted Nola protected at all costs, no matter the danger to himself, and two warriors were better than one. And certainly not because Bane was desperate for a friend, someone who would have his back, if only for a little while. Making friends and trusting others would only get him in trouble.
“Take me to the bathroom,” he said.
She licked her lips, wrenching a growl from deep inside him, then turned to lead the way. A first aid kit waited on the sink, already open. Bloody rags rested at the bottom of a trash bin. Nola’s blood, due to injuries Drogo had caused.
Bane pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Go ahead and pack your bag while I clean up.”
Rocking from foot to foot, silent, she watched him, lost in thought. Finally, she nodded and padded from the bathroom, leaving him alone. He shut the door. After he cleaned and bandaged his shoulder—the wound worsened by Zion’s hammering punches—he gripped the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Golden hair mussed and streaked with blood. Eyes stark but also glittering with...excitement? No, absolutely not. Probably annoyance. Golden stubble decorated his jaw. Cuts and bruises littered his chest.
“Get yourself together,” he quietly demanded. But damn it! Nola made him want things he shouldn’t want. A family. A future. Things he couldn’t afford.
Must purge this burning desire. Can’t lose someone else. Just...can’t.
Head high, shoulders back, he exited the bathroom.
“Almost done,” she said, puttering around the bedroom, gathering the things she wished to take.
Curiosity drew him into the hall, where pictures of Nola and Vale covered the walls. One photo captured his attention more than any other. A close-up of Nola’s face. The sun shone brightly behind her, creating a halo over her blue-black locks. Her eyes sparkled, and roses painted her cheeks. She radiated pure joy. The kind of joy he’d known when Meredith lived. The kind of joy he’d never thought to experience again.
His chest clenched. Don’t do what you’re thinking about doing. Do not—Bane plucked the picture from the wall, tossed the frame to the floor and tucked the folded image into his pocket. Okay, you did it.
Embarrassed for himself but still brimming with curiosity about the woman with a “will of iron,” he checked out the rest of the house. Small, but well maintained, with countless feminine touches. Lace here, pink there. On the coffee table were enamel pots overflowing with dried flowers. On the kitchen counter, he found a stack of Oklahoma Love Match magazines. No two issues were the same, yet Nola’s name occupied a tiny spot of each cover.
How to Go From Enemies to Lovers.
The Five Must Haves For Any Single Woman Looking For Love.
So You Slept Together. Now What?
Nola had once mentioned being a baker and an author. Had she written those articles?
Don’t you dare. He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of her. As quietly as possible, he ripped out the article about going from enemies to lovers, folded the paper in half and stuffed it into his pocket, alongside the photo. What had his princess said about the ways of seduction? Perhaps, if he knew, he could better guard his heart against her allure. Because, he’d done a shit job of guarding his desires; they raged out of control.
Why resist her sexually? He lacked the will. In that regard, she’d broken him, her weapon of choice an indomitable spirit nothing and no one could destroy.
I want her, and I will have her.
Relief accompanied the decision. Finally, he would have the one he craved.
His ears twitched, the quiet pitter-patter of her footsteps registering. He tried not to watch as she entered the living room, a vision of loveliness in a pink tank top, jeans and tennis shoes, her dark hair flowing to her waist in glossy waves. But watch he did, his body aflame. Must have her soon.
“Where are we going?” she asked, stopping directly in front of him to drop a bag at his feet. “Because I have an idea.”
Her nearness...affected him. Blood like fire, guts twisting. He tapped his temple and pushed his next words into her mind. Erik might have cameras hidden here.
She licked her lips and nodded in understanding. —I think we should go to Roswell, New Mexico. About seventy years ago, something crashed there. A lot of people believe it was an alien spaceship. Now the government guards the area but...what if there are weapons they haven’t found? Weapons only other aliens can activate? If we acquire them, we’ll have a major advantage over Erik.—
Interesting. Few other-worlds used spaceships. In fact, Bane could think of only one. Forêt. Had the ruler of Forêt broken the rules like Aveline, and sent warriors here?
Bane searched his mental files. In the Terran All War, Halo was the combatant from Forêt, and he’d brought a pair of detachable metal wings. A masterpiece of technology. While Halo engaged in combat, the wings guarded his flank.
He told Nola, Roswell it is, then. Do you have photos of the area?
—I don’t want to portal there. I want to drive in a car.—
Why?
—Out on the open road, we’ll remain on the move. No one will be able to pinpoint our location.—
He peered down at her, only then realizing he’d been combing his fingers through her hair. Now, he fisted the strands, angling her face the way he liked to better tilt her mouth toward his. But he didn’t let himself kiss her. Is there nothing you cannot do, little dove? So far you’ve freed men from ice, outwitted a beast and led multiple warriors around by the balls. Now you are outsmarting a viking. Yes, we will drive.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The #1 essential for every road trip!
NOLA AND BANE loaded up in her rust bucket of a car and drove into the city, where she pawned the jewelry she’d liberated from his cave. Everything but the gauntlets. Mine. I’ll never share! She’d meant what she’d said. She would treasure them, now and always. In fact, they were coming with her on their trip.
Needful of a few other things, she took her golden god to a one-stop shop for hunters. Though a never-ending sense of urgency stabbed her, she decided to act as if this was a normal day, and she and Bane were normal people on their first date. Why not have fun? They were fighting for their lives, yes, but dying without experiencing true joy struck her as wrong.
On the way into the store, she moved ahead of Bane to reach the automatic doors first. In honor of her decision to enjoy their time together, she pretended to open those doors with magic, waving her hand and saying, “Hocus-pocus.”
He gaped at her, amazed. “What strange power is this?”
She erupted into a fit of laughter. Dark lust e
clipsed the amazement in his eyes, and she quieted.
“Your laugh,” he said, his voice soft but rough. Fierce. “Drives. Me. Insane.”
Oh la la. He’s hard again.
As she shopped, Bane remained at her side, silent and stoic, tensing when anyone neared. People stared at him, some admiring, most afraid.
Someone snapped a picture of him. To post online, most likely, and she could imagine the caption. Hot buttered buns. #DoMeBaby.
Okay, she had better hurry this shopping trip along. If Erik monitored social media, he’d learn Bane’s location. Quickening her pace, she threw different items into the basket. Backpacks, XL shirts, another first aid kit, camo pants, camping supplies, snacks, knives, even a handgun and a case of bullets.
When she came to an aisle overflowing with Halloween costumes, she paused. The holiday kicked off in just a few days. And talk about the perfect camouflage! For a single night, they could go anywhere and do anything, and no one would suspect their identities. She grabbed three costumes and headed to check out.
Spotting one of her ex-dates—James—she stopped cold. He stood in line, placing his items on the cashier’s conveyor belt. Dang it! What were the odds? Why was he here? Why now?
Earlier this year, she’d let one of her coworkers at the magazine set her up with a cousin. They went to dinner and a movie, her hopes high. He’d held her hand, and she’d felt no sickness. So, when he’d walked her to her door and bent down to kiss her, she hadn’t resisted...and ended up vomiting in a flower bed mid-tongue-swab. After that, she’d been too embarrassed to answer his calls and text.
“Nola,” James said when he noticed her. He smiled and leaned in, planning to hug her.
Bane stepped between them, telling James, “You will not touch the girl.”
The golden god towered over the human.
Color draining from James’s cheeks, he reared back, hands up. “Sorry. My bad.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Nola assured him, flicking Bane a behave glance. “Nice seeing you again, James.” Wanting everyone to walk away rather than crawl, she moved to another line.
Bane followed at a much slower pace, his aggression spiking. If he lost control of his temper, he would transform into Drogo. People would post pictures and videos all over the internet, and combatants wouldn’t be the only ones hot on their trail.
To keep her warrior calm, she stroked his spine, petting him the same way she’d petted his beast. But she did no good, his muscles knotting with tension.
“Your jealousy is cute and all,” she said with a teasing tone, “but I promise I’m not planning to fall on his penis...anytime soon.”
He pursed his lips. “Tell me about him.”
“There’s nothing to tell. We only went on one date.”
“I should have killed him,” Bane hissed.
“Shh.” In a soft but fierce voice, she said, “You can’t go around threating innocents. Or killing innocents!”
“Actually, I can. You prefer that I don’t.” He pushed the cart, and they moved up the line. “Is he the type of man you usually find attractive?”
Once upon a time, yes. But, if she were being honest, she’d admit things had changed. She craved intensity and heat. Fire. God help her! “Why do you care?” Would he cop to the truth?
He worked his jaw. Rather than answering her question, he changed the subject again. “You once mentioned you write. Do you write what is true, or what is false?”
Uh, why did he want to discuss her job? “I write whatever my boss tells me. Or I did. He fired me. Anyway. I wrote things people hope are fact but could be fiction. I’m unsure.”
Bane went still. “A man burned you?”
Sigh. “I meant, my boss told me I couldn’t work for him anymore.”
He relaxed the slightest bit. “Do you write what you believe to be true?”
Cheeks heated, she admitted, “I’ve never tested my theories.”
“But you want to?”
After she’d given up on love? No. But here, now? “Yes.” So badly. “Why?”
He said no more. She said no more, the tension too great.
They paid for their supplies, loaded them into her two-door piece of crap and settled in their seats, with Nola at the wheel. Despite the hour, the sun remained hidden behind thick gray clouds, a storm brewing. A cold breeze contained an electrical charge, and brought the scent of coming rain. Blackbirds flocked to poles and perched on the wires. Beyond them, flatlands stretched for miles, as far as her gaze could see.
They had a ten-hour drive ahead of them. Enough time to plan and scheme their way into Roswell?
After forcing Bane to buckle up, Nola merged onto the highway. “You’re being quiet. I don’t like it.”
“Just thinking,” he replied.
Uh-oh. His gruff tone had returned.
He had their purchases piled around him, filling the packs with clothes, camping gear and her gauntlets. As distracted as he appeared, she got the feeling he remained aware of absolutely everything around him, and even clocked her actions.
When he offered nothing more about his thoughts, she prompted, “Thinking about what?”
He offered a shrug, then opened the first aid kit to bandage his shoulder.
Argh! Frustrating man! She sighed. Waiting for something—the story of her life.
Several hours later, after trying and failing to converse with Bane, she spotted a sign and decided to tease him. “Look, Bane!” She faked a squeal. “A phallological museum. They display fake penises. Let’s go. Can we? Please, please, please. Only a man with a very small penis would say no.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it without saying a word, and she tried not to smile.
“No comment?” she asked.
“This is your brand of vengeance, isn’t it? Well, excellent job. It’s devious and effective. I must remember to remain on guard, lest my ego receive another flaying.”
She tapped her nose and pointed to his chest. “Ding, ding, ding. Stop ignoring me, and I won’t drive you into a ditch.”
“I’ve never ignored you, Nola. From the beginning, I’ve wanted you. Every day—every hour—every minute, I’ve fought hard to keep my hands off your lush little body. I’m fighting for control even now.”
She sucked in a breath. Do not pull the car to the side of the road. Do not climb into his lap. “You know I want you, too,” she said, her voice like gravel.
“I knew you were attracted to me, not that you wanted me...so desperately.”
“What! Me? Desperate?”
He leaned back in his seat, all satisfied male. “This time, I teased you.”
She would have given him the finger, but he’d only think she considered herself his number one fan.
“What made you agree to date him?” he asked. “What did he do to win you?”
“James?” she asked, stalling. Deep breath in, out. If she had to spill the deets in order to move on, she would spill. “He’s my coworker’s cousin. He came to see her one day. Neither of us knew she’d invite him simply to introduce us. We talked, laughed and he asked if I wanted to grab something to eat. I said yes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What else did he do?”
“Nothing,” she said, her brow furrowing.
“But you are a royal. You are beautiful, smart, courageous and witty. You are a prize. Did he not give you gifts, courting you properly?”
His praise echoed inside her head, the sweetness intoxicating. Before she could respond, a portal opened up in the road, only a few feet away, revealing a shadowy forest. Horror punched her. Too late to swerve!
Horror must have punched Bane, too. He shouted her name. She screamed his as the car shot through the portal—
And slammed into a bank of trees.
Metal crunched and glass shattered, gnarled limbs forcing their way into the vehicle. Impact threw her forward, the seat belt preventing her from being ejected. An airbag deployed, stopping her face from banging into the steering wheel.
Though adrenaline surged through her, dulling the effects of whiplash and pain—for now—one side of her face blistered, as if she’d rested her cheek on a hot plate. Chemical burns from the airbag’s detonation, no doubt. A loud ringing sound clanged in her ears, and her vision blurred.
“Nola!” Bane’s voice sounded far away, but ragged concern clanged loud and clear.
She opened her mouth to let him know she had survived, for now, but blood spilled down her throat, choking her. Darkness invaded, mucking up her thoughts...
Blink. Suddenly, she was seated in the back seat of a sedan, healthy, whole and in her right mind. Her parents were up front, talking in hushed tones. Beside her was a car seat holding toddler Nola. Was she relieving the other crash again? Dang it, no! She needed to return to Bane. What if he was hurt?
“She’s a monster,” her father whispered. “We must hide from her, not with her.”
She who? Not baby Nola. No way, no how...right?
“She played in fire without burning,” her mom replied, glancing back at Nola with a worried expression. “That doesn’t make her a monster.”
Wait. They were talking about her, weren’t they? Monster... Her stomach sank.
Her father gripped the wheel so tightly, color bled from his knuckles. Voice shaky, he whispered, “She loves drawing blood from others. She loves playing in blood. She’s evil, honey, and you know it.”
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare.
“She’s my baby,” her mother said.
Protective, despite Nola’s faults. There goes another piece of my heart.
Just as before, a tall, muscled man stood in the middle of the road, and Nola’s dad swerved to miss him. The next thing she knew, she had a severe case of vertigo as the car flipped.
Those scuffed leather boots approached the crumpled vehicle...their owner bent down, his golden skin coming into view first, followed by his golden hair and his golden eyes.
Frost and Flame Page 19