Ouch. So much for an innocuous topic. I recalled how earlier Louisa had talked about calling José to take Genoveva’s body to the funeral home, but José was such a common name, I hadn’t realized they were both the same person. Doing my best to deflect from that delicate topic, I said, “That’s why Rosa and José are staying with your father tonight? Because she’s his big sister?”
“Yes. I guess sisters never outgrow being protective. Also, Rosa lives here in Santa Fe. My other two aunts and their families still live down in Belen, which is where he’s from.”
“Is that far?”
Rafe shook his head. “About a half hour south of Albuquerque. But they hadn’t come up for Marco’s for funeral, so they weren’t here when…well, when it happened.”
And there we’d circled right back to his mother’s death. Luckily, I was saved from having to make a reply by someone ringing the doorbell. Rafe excused himself and went to answer it. I almost followed, just because I had a sudden stab of worry that it wouldn’t be the pizza delivery person out there at all, but Simon. However, I stayed put and told myself not to be so paranoid. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Simon capable of a sneak attack, only that I didn’t think he was monitoring us so closely that he’d be able to intercept a pizza delivery.
My fears were clearly groundless, because Rafe came back a moment later, pizza box in hand. I hurriedly shuffled our glasses and the bottle of wine off to one side so he could set the box down on the coffee table.
“I’ll get some plates.”
As much as I wanted to offer to help, I knew it was probably better for me to stay where I was. Rafe wanted to act as if everything was normal, and if that was what he needed, then I’d do my best to go along. Everyone grieved in their own way, and I didn’t want to interfere with his process.
He returned to the living room, plates in hand, and set them down next to the pizza box. There was already a stack of napkins that had come with the pizza, so he hadn’t bothered to fetch any from the kitchen.
When he lifted the lid, the most amazing aroma wafted out. I knew I was hungry, but I hadn’t appreciated exactly how hungry until the scent of that pizza woke up my needy stomach.
Rafe put two pieces on a plate and handed it to me, then did the same for himself. For a minute, neither of us said anything. We just sat next to each other, eating pizza, pausing from time to time to take a sip of our wine. After Rafe had consumed nearly a whole piece, he said, “I guess I did need to eat something.”
“So did I,” I replied. I hadn’t eaten quite as quickly as he had, but I’d still made a big dent in my slice in a very short amount of time.
“I just — ” he began, then stopped himself. “I guess I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to handle all this.”
Thank the Goddess he was finally opening up, if even just a little bit. I set down my mostly eaten slice of pizza. “I’m here, if you want to talk,” I said. “And if you don’t want to talk, well, I’m here for that, too.”
He wiped his fingers on a napkin, then laid a hand on my leg. Not in a suggestive way, but more as though he needed to reassure himself that I was there, that I was real. Even so, that single touch was enough to practically set me on fire. Heat surged through my body, although I told myself that I needed to keep it together and be there for him, no matter what that might mean.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Before I could begin to reply, he went on, “And don’t try to sit there and tell me you’re not. It’s not just the magic, either — it’s that you’ve been through the wringer yourself, and yet you’re ready to be here to support me, to help me through all this.”
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you love someone?”
In response, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Yes, but I’m still getting used to the idea that you do love me, even though I was such an asshole to you in the beginning.”
“Yes, you were,” I agreed, smiling a little so he could see I wasn’t entirely serious. “But you got over it. And I know exactly why you were being an asshole. It wasn’t as though you didn’t have a pretty good reason.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “Maybe that’s part of what I’m trying to deal with now. I spent so much time butting heads with my mother that I never stopped to think about what it would be like after you were here, what our lives might be. I never even stopped to consider that maybe I’d end up falling in love with you, that you’d be everything I ever wanted…and more.”
Warmth filled me at those words. Yes, I knew that Rafe loved me, but I certainly wasn’t tired of hearing it yet.
Before I could say anything, he continued. “I guess the really hard thing is that after all the time we spent fighting with each other, all the years I spent resenting my mother, resenting the situation she’d put me in, now she’s gone…and I won’t ever have the chance to tell her that she was right.”
No hesitation this time. I turned toward him, just as he moved toward me. His mouth touched mine, and suddenly we were kissing each other, tongues meeting, my entire body aching for him, aching for more.
He pushed me down into the cushions, his weight on me. I loved the feel of him, the way our bodies touched. True, Simon had done nearly the same thing this morning, but this was different…so very, very different.
I wanted Rafe. Wanted all of him, wanted to seal our love in the best way I knew how.
It seemed he felt the same way, because his hands moved under my sweater, slipping up to unhook my bra. In the next moment, his fingers had closed on my bare breasts, gliding skillfully over my nipples. I gasped, for even that light touch was enough to make me throb with need for him, the ache between my legs growing stronger and stronger.
The next moment, both of us were struggling with the zipper on the other’s jeans. In no time, those bulky, confining garments were tossed to the floor, followed by my sweater and his shirt.
Were we really going to do this like a couple of horny teenagers, right there on the couch?
Apparently, the answer to that question was yes, because I knew neither one of us wanted to waste even the few minutes it would take to get upstairs. Better to ease down the dark briefs he wore, better for him to slide off my panties and add them to the pile somewhere beyond the coffee table.
I could feel him pressing against my leg, hard, big. Maybe his size should have frightened me a little, just because this would be my first time, but right then I didn’t care. I slipped my hand over his shaft, stroking him, as his fingers slid into me, deft and skilled, finding the exact right spot to caress me so I gasped aloud at the sensation, then shut my eyes and moaned.
He was breathing heavily as well, shifting so he was positioned between my legs. I could feel his tip touch me, and I let out another moan, wanting him, wanting it all.
For a moment, though, he hesitated. “Are you sure?” he whispered. “We can wait — ”
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to wait. I want you. I want this. Do it, Rafe. Please.”
A shuddering breath, and then it wasn’t just the tip of his cock touching me, but all of him, sliding inside. A twinge of pain followed immediately afterward. I’d been expecting that, though, knew it wouldn’t last. And it didn’t. Almost at once he began to move in and out, slowly, deliberately, going deeper as I opened to him.
It was the most amazing sensation I’d ever experienced. Not just the sensation of Rafe filling me, but the way I now felt closer to him than ever before. We weren’t two people anymore, but an amazing whole, breathing together, moving together…loving together.
A warm glow began to build in my core. I knew what that meant, knew my body was building toward the inevitable climax. Rafe’s fingers locked with mine, holding on to me, strengthening our bond.
Yes, that’s what it was. We were bonding, physically, spiritually, emotionally. I was Rafe, and he was I. Our bodies seemed to know exactly what to do, and the universe spun around me as the climax hit at last, shivering through every limb,
my legs locked around his waist as he came as well, his moans blending with mine so it was hard to know where one began and the other ended.
Perfection. Utter, soul-searing perfection.
As I breathed in and began to return to myself, I remembered to mentally recite the charm of the McAllister witches, the one that would prevent a pregnancy from occurring. Blessed Brigid, now is not the time. Bestow your blessings elsewhere.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have children with Rafe — I hoped one day we’d have a whole house full of them — but now, as the charm itself said, was not the time. We had to get this situation with Simon resolved before we could even begin to start making those sorts of life-changing decisions.
Rafe shifted, easing his way out of me. I let out a small breath, not quite a gasp. It felt so strange to have been one being, and now to be separate again. He must have been experiencing more or less the same sensation, because he bent down and kissed me on the forehead, then on the mouth, softly, with a sort of wonder in his warm brown eyes.
“I love you, Miranda.”
I smiled up at him. “I love you, too, Rafe.”
5
A New Day
Rafe
She was a miracle. That was truly the only way he could think of Miranda, this girl — this woman — who had once seemed as though she would be the one to end life as he knew it, but who instead had turned out to be the only person who could lead him forward into forging a new existence.
There hadn’t been any awkwardness afterward, even though they’d had sex right there on the couch rather than going upstairs to the master bedroom. Once they’d disentangled themselves, they’d gotten dressed, kissed one another, returned to their neglected pizza. Neither one of them had talked about what had happened earlier that day, even though very soon decisions would need to be made about how to proceed with handling Simon Escobar. For the moment, it had been enough to simply be Rafe and Miranda, two people who’d made one another whole.
He’d always thought that was a trite expression, maybe even a self-defeating one. After all, you should be whole on your own and not rely on anyone else to make you the person you were meant to be. But now, Rafe thought, as he gazed down at Miranda, asleep next to him in his bed, now he understood. She was the person he’d been waiting for his entire life. He just hadn’t realized it until tonight.
They’d come upstairs and fallen into bed, made love again, a little more slowly this time, savoring each other’s bodies. He’d been somewhat surprised by her ardor, then realized that just because Miranda had been a virgin, it didn’t mean that her blood couldn’t run as hot as his. And God only knew that the internet provided plenty of how-to information for the sex act itself, even for someone who’d had to hold back her entire adult life.
Well, she sure wasn’t holding back now. Rafe had had enough girlfriends to know that he’d never been with anyone like Miranda, had never experienced lovemaking the way it was with her. This was more than two bodies coming together, more than mere momentary pleasure. They’d connected in a way he hadn’t expected. In fact, the experience had been so intense, he wondered if it was anything like a prima bonding with her consort. It felt that way, even though of course Miranda wasn’t a prima. The most powerful witch he’d ever met, sure, but that still wasn’t the same thing. Then again, she was the daughter of a prima. Maybe they still bonded more strongly than most witches. For a brief second he contemplated asking Malena, since Louisa would have experienced that bond as prima-in-waiting and Cat wasn’t married yet, but he dismissed that idea almost immediately. He didn’t think he could handle the embarrassment of asking his older sister whether she’d had absolutely mind-blowing sex the first time she and her husband had made love.
Rafe eased himself down onto his pillow, making sure not to disturb the sleeping woman at his side. She shifted slightly, but her eyes remained shut, her breathing regular and even. Good. It had to have been taxing for her to go from house to house, casting spells of protection, even though she’d said it was fine and didn’t really require that much of her energy. Rafe hadn’t been entirely sure about that — by the end of the afternoon, she’d begun to look pale and drained — but he’d also known that he couldn’t stop her from doing what needed to be done.
The pain of his mother’s loss lay somewhere below the afterglow of the evening’s lovemaking, along with his concern over the very real and present danger Simon Escobar presented. Maybe at some point Rafe would allow himself to grieve properly, but he knew now wasn’t the right time. Instead, he would take that pain and grief and channel it into revenge. What form that vengeance would take, he didn’t know yet. On the surface, it didn’t seem as though he had a very good chance of prevailing against Escobar, since the other warlock was so much stronger. But Rafe had gotten the drop on him this morning, and if he’d done it once, he could do it again.
Now, though, it was time to sleep, to get the rest he knew he needed. No matter what happened the next day, at least he knew he would face it with Miranda at his side.
Rafe awoke to Miranda pressing the lightest of kisses against his temple. When he stirred, she started slightly, then looked almost guilty.
“Sorry,” she said. “You just looked so amazing lying there, I had to kiss you.”
“It’s all right,” he replied, thinking it was more than all right. Really, was there a better way to wake up than to have the most beautiful witch in the world bending down and kissing you? He pushed himself up to a sitting position, was somewhat pleased to see the way Miranda’s gaze moved over the muscles of his bare arms and chest. “What time is it?”
“A little past seven-thirty.”
“No phone calls?”
She shook her head. With her hair tumbling down in a tousled mass over the tank top she wore and her face bare of makeup, she looked subtly different, but no less beautiful. More, actually. Or maybe that was just the afterglow from the previous night’s lovemaking. “Nothing on my phone.” The faint smile she’d been wearing disappeared. “Then again, no one except Cat even has that number. It’s not like my parents can get through, thanks to Simon hexing all the cell towers in Santa Fe, or whatever it is that he’s done to block my calls.”
Right. It took Miranda’s words to remind him that the Castillos were effectively cut off from the outside world. Most of the time, they kept themselves separate anyway, but that was their choice. He hated the way Simon had managed to isolate them even further, thus ensuring that there wouldn’t be any help coming from the McAllisters or the Wilcoxes. No, the Castillos would have to manage this crisis on their own.
Rafe reached for the phone on his bedside table, swiped his thumb over the biometric reader, and checked the home screen. No missed calls or texts. In a way, he supposed the absence of any communication should have been a relief, but he wished someone had reached out to him to check in, even if things had remained quiet overnight.
“I guess no news is good news,” he said, doing his best to keep his tone light. Better to think that the radio silence only meant everyone was resting and doing their best to conserve their resources, rather than imagine Simon Escobar had come up with a new way to block contact between clan members. “Once we’re up and dressed, I’ll check in with Cat, see how Dad is doing. In the meantime, I guess we’d better order in some breakfast. I don’t have much food in the house.”
He really didn’t, partly because he tended to go out most of the time anyway, and he’d been anticipating that he and Miranda would be in Taos for a week for their honeymoon and hadn’t bothered to restock the freezer. All those plans had gone sideways, thanks to Simon Escobar, and in the chaotic days that followed, he hadn’t had much of a chance to go to the store.
“You can order in breakfast?” Miranda asked, looking genuinely surprised.
“Sure,” Rafe replied. “I do it all the time. There’s a café not too far away that delivers. Smart, really — they kind of cater to all the government workers downtown. State capital,
remember.”
She nodded. “Right. I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” Her demeanor changed subtly, and she looked almost shy. “Do you want to shower first, or should I?”
What he wanted to do was take her in the shower and make love to her all over again, with the hot water cascading down on them both, but he knew that would have to wait. They’d made love twice the night before, after all, and even though it seemed as if everything was quiet enough this morning, he guessed it was better for the two of them to be up and dressed and ready to face whatever the world — or Simon Escobar — might throw at them.
“You go ahead,” Rafe told her. “I’ll go downstairs and make some coffee, have it ready for you when you get out.”
“That sounds great.” She kissed him on the cheek, as though worried that anything less innocuous might lead into something more, then slid out from under the covers. Damn. He’d known her body was beautiful, but looking at her long, slim legs and the bikini panties that barely covered her firm little ass, Rafe could feel himself start to harden again. Good thing she was focused on getting some underwear from the dresser and wasn’t looking at him.
Then she was safely in the bathroom. The water started to run a minute or so later, and he let out a relieved breath, even as his erection started to back off. His body needed to get its act together; maybe he’d never been with a woman who had this kind of an effect on him before, but he had to focus, no matter how enticing Miranda had turned out to be.
He got out of bed as well, dug out a pair of sweat pants from the dresser, and went downstairs. The day was bright and sunny, cheerful despite the bare branches of the trees outside in the yard. Looking at those blue skies as he filled the coffeemaker, Rafe found it difficult to believe that his clan had been visited by such tragedy just the day before.
Mysterious Ways Page 6