All Fired Up

by Kristen Painter

  What was that language? Latin? She tried to pronounce it.

  “Ex cinis…cineris…in incendia.” What a mouthful. Certainly twisted her tongue like Latin.

  She tried it again, a little smoother this time. “Ex cinis cineris, in incendia.”

  No smoke. No flames. No Alrik.

  She tried it once more, louder and with feeling. “Ex cinis cineris, in incendia!”

  Nothing. Stupid inscription. It probably meant something like “if you can read this, thank your Latin teacher.”

  “You called?” Alrik’s voice whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her neck.

  Calleigh jumped even as shivers traveled over her skin.

  The talisman went flying.

  Alrik snatched it in midair and offered it back to her. “I apologize for startling you.”

  Her chest still heaving, she grabbed the talisman. The urge to punch him in the shoulder tempted her mightily. “What are you doing here? You scared the crap out of me. I asked you not to do that again.”

  “You summoned me. I came.” He looked way too pleased with himself. Which on him was a very handsome look. Almost naughty. Focus!

  “I wasn’t trying to summon you,” she lied. “Okay, I was.” She lifted the carving. “I couldn’t get this dumb thing to catch fire.”

  “My talisman is not dumb. And you did read the inscription, did you not?” He nodded toward the carving.

  “Yes, but I read it three times. Why didn’t you show up the first time? And what does it mean?” She turned it over to look at the words again.

  “It means out of ashes, into fire. And you must read it three times for it to work. Now that you have summoned me, I am here.” His smirk turned into a full-fledged smile. He stepped closer and rested his hands on the counter behind her so that she was trapped between his arms. “Did you miss me, Calleigh lass?”

  Cinnamon invaded her brain. His mouth was only inches from hers. “No. Yes. That’s not the point. I need you—”

  “I know, and I am here now.” The dark rasp of his voice caressed her skin and her body tightened in response. He nuzzled her neck. “Just ask and I will give you pleasure like you have never known.”

  Calleigh tried to back up but there was nowhere to go. “Hold your horses. This wasn’t some sort of mystic booty call. If you’d let me finish, I was about to tell you I need you to attend some big underwear party the Germans are throwing so my uncle doesn’t look like a fool.” His original offer made her thighs tingle. Pleasure like she’d never known? But that wouldn’t take much, would it?

  “A party? You called me back for a party?” His smile was gone.

  “No, not just a party.” She sighed, resigned to doing what had to be done. “I owe you an apology.”

  She picked at her nail polish. “I know you were just doing your job. I’m sorry for yelling at you and ordering you to leave. It wasn’t very nice of me to talk to you that way.”

  His voice hitched. “I am used to orders.”

  “Doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry. I really am. No one should be spoken to that way, especially you.”

  She glanced up and he turned away. She grabbed him and pulled him back around. His arms were hard and warm, the muscles tight beneath her grip. “Look at me.”

  “See? More orders.” But he did as she asked.

  His eyes glistened with moisture. Was he crying? This big hulking Viking beast? “Why are you crying?”

  “I am not crying. Women cry, not warriors.” He stabbed at his chest. “I am a warrior.”

  “It’s okay to cry, you know. Are you that upset with me? I did apologize.”

  “I am not crying and I am not upset with you.” He twitched his nose and Calleigh thought he was probably moments away from a sniffle. It was quite possibly the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Who knew Vikings were so sensitive?

  “If you aren’t upset, prove it.” She couldn’t help herself. His pleasure comment still rang in her ears. She just wanted a taste.

  “How?” He looked suspicious.

  “Kiss me.” Mercy. She was becoming as bold as Jeana.

  Without hesitation he drew her into his arms, the warmth of his body igniting her the same way the lighter had lit the felt. If there were smoke rising off her, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

  His mouth was sweeter than she remembered, his lips softer than the ones she’d kissed in her dreams.

  She wove her fingers into his hair and laughter bubbled up inside her. She giggled against his mouth and he pulled away.

  “Are you laughing at my kisses?”

  She shook her head. “Not at. Actually, because of. Did I tell you to stop?”

  “Orders, orders…” he muttered as he closed the gap between them again.

  She melted against him. So what if she couldn’t keep him. She could at least enjoy him.

  But her heart ached at the thought of this being temporary and she knew if she let herself feel what she was beginning to feel, the hurt when he left would crush her. Lost loves were nothing new to her but this one promised a whole new kind of pain.

  His kiss deepened, as if he was trying to take her mind off the inevitable. His hands curved over the rise of her hips in a deliciously possessive hold.

  She could quite possibly love this man to the end of her days. But would that love sustain her when he was just a memory or would it be the end of her? How much hurt could one person take in a lifetime?

  Chapter Sixteen

  They went to the mall the next day with the Uber Homme credit card Seamus had slipped into her hand before he’d left. Apparently the Germans wanted no expense spared when it came to Alrik looking good at their campaign party and since Seamus had told them Calleigh was Alrik’s assistant, it was her job to make him look as good in clothes as he looked out of them.

  Personally, she didn’t think that would be hard to do.

  Of course, Seamus had given her some suggestions and even offered to come along but she assured her uncle this was a job she could handle. And she planned on handling her assignment as often as possible.

  Alrik seemed perfectly content to hold hands, and having his large hand surrounding her smaller one made her as giddy as a high school cheerleader. At least she imagined that’s how high school cheerleaders felt. They certainly looked giddy.

  He insisted on having a Cinnabon, so she took advantage of the situation when he finished and cleaned the stickiness off his mouth with her own. Who needed dessert when you had sugarcoated Viking on hand?

  Public displays of affection didn’t seem to bother him either.

  By the time they entered the men’s department at Nordstrom, Calleigh couldn’t feel her feet touching the floor.

  She picked out three of the most expensive Italian suits and sent Alrik into the dressing room to try them on with an equal selection of silk shirts.

  Just because she didn’t spend her own money didn’t mean she wasn’t good at spending someone else’s. Besides, dressing Alrik was something she already knew she enjoyed. And although she had yet to try the reverse of that she had a feeling it would be a whole new level of enjoyment.

  Parts of her warmed considerably at the thought. She fanned herself, sure that if he caught sight of her, he’d know exactly what she was thinking. And he’d want to do something about it.

  But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, was it? How long could a girl hang on to her virginity before she ended up a lonely old maid in a big house with a herd of cats as her only companions?

  She did her best not to remind herself that the house part already existed and one cat was really just the beginning of a collection.

  Fortunately, Alrik stepped out of the dressing room at that moment and filled her head with thoughts of an entirely different nature.

  My oh my.

  The charcoal suit and black silk shirt were worth whatever their price tags read.

  Yum.

  “Does this please you?” Even though there were mirrors all aroun
d him, he looked only at her.

  “Yeah. Oh yeah. That’s good.” She swallowed, walked over and adjusted his collar unnecessarily. He still smelled like the Cinnabon stand. Warm and sweet and spicy. The combination made her gooey inside.

  “Would you like me to try on the others?”

  Saints help her, she wanted in that dressing room. At these prices, she should be allowed. “Let’s see what else you have in there. I can’t really remember.” Only a partial lie.

  The salesman nodded as if he completely believed that’s all she wanted to do. She smiled. Gotta love Nordstrom. Customer service at its best.

  The dressing room was slightly larger than the average Manhattan apartment and definitely better furnished. A burgundy leather loveseat studded with antique nail heads provided seating. Maybe they expected company in these dressing rooms.

  She rubbed the lapel of one of the remaining suits between her fingers. “I think you should try this one. Just to see.”

  Alrik watched her delicate fingers caress the clothing she had chosen for him. He could think of better places for her hands to be.

  His arms found their way around her waist and she inhaled softly. She was warm and supple and let him pull her close.

  “I like this,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her cheek pressed against his chest.

  “Aye, I like this as well.” Perhaps too much. How could he turn away such sweetness? How could he ever leave this woman’s side? And yet, he knew he would have to. She would eventually make her last change. Three days after that, he would kiss her goodbye, never to see her again.

  Maybe he could persuade her not to make the last change. But that was interfering and Freya would never allow that. Neither would Eros, and he feared the wrath of the demi-god much more than he feared the goddess’s, truth be told.

  Freya might hold the power to transform a man into a Phoenix but Eros was her disciplinarian. On more than one occasion, Alrik had seen the goddess bend her will to suit Eros’s. And Alrik was not the only Phoenix who suspected there was more to the demi-god than any of them knew.

  Calleigh shifted in his arms, turning to look up at him. Thor’s hammer, he could stare into those beautiful eyes all day. She traced the line of his cheekbone, trailing down to brush his lips with her fingers. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I can barely believe you’re real sometimes.”

  He smiled and she buried her head against his chest so that he could not see her face. “I wish you weren’t a Phoenix.”

  He pulled her back so he could see her. “Why do you wish that? We would never have met otherwise. Do you wish you had not met me?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” She fiddled with the suit collar. “I don’t regret meeting you but I know you can’t stay. Once I make that final change, you’ll be gone, won’t you?”

  So that was what bothered her. The same thoughts that plagued him. Best she know the truth. “Aye. I cannot stay. There is nothing I can do about that and if you ask for that as your change, it will not be granted.”

  Her ragged exhale heated his skin.

  He tipped her chin up and saw tears glimmering in her eyes. She turned her head, pulling away from his gentle grasp.

  His heart ached knowing he was the cause of those tears. He hated himself for that, hated the helplessness he felt. There was nothing he could do to stay with her. Nothing. Even if he tried, Freya would snatch him back.

  “Do not cry. Please. We should revel in the time we have left not sorrow for the future.”

  A weak smile curved her lush mouth. “I know. I’m just being foolish but I can’t help it. Every good thing that comes into my life always gets taken away. It isn’t fair.”

  He thought of her family, her beautiful home, even her little cat and knew that was not true but he understood. She was talking about him.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered.

  She shrugged and smiled a little bigger but still unconvincingly. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I hate to keep asking but I have no choice and I want so badly to ki—”

  “Then kiss me,” she interrupted. “That’s an order. And from now on, you have permission to kiss me and touch me whenever you want.”

  He wasted no time in obeying and squeezed her against him. She grabbed hold of him, clutching him like she thought he might leave at that exact moment. The gentle grip of her warm hands on his biceps tortured the rest of his body with need. He wanted this woman not just for his own but for always. She was right. Life was not fair. A weaker man would have joined her in her tears.

  Her soft lips opened against his, welcoming his kiss. She moaned when their lips met, inviting his kiss deeper. The sweet taste of her mouth heightened his own need, increasing his desire to make her his own.

  He splayed his fingers possessively over the curve of her hips and tugged her closer. He wanted her to feel the way she affected him, to know the power she had over him was not just the power a charge wielded with her Phoenix but the power of a woman over a man. She swayed him to the core of his being and he wanted her to know it.

  Her heat swept through him. Wanton desire played at the edge of his senses like a siren’s call beckoning him to take more. He knew if he did not retreat from her now, he would break his oath as a Phoenix so instead he broke the kiss.

  The need pulsing in his veins made him tip his head back and gasp for control. But she held him just as tightly and nibbled on his newly exposed skin, teasing her mouth down to the hollow of his neck.

  He pushed her away, panting with want he could barely contain. The woman undid him.

  Desire flushed her cheeks and this time, her smile was genuine. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like kissing me?”

  Swallowing hard and thinking of Freya in an attempt to quench the fire in his loins, he shook his head at Calleigh’s naughty grin. “You know what you do to me. You are a wicked wench to be sure.”

  “I was just trying to enjoy the moment. It was your idea.” She laughed, fluttering her eyes with feigned innocence.

  “A few more enjoyable moments like that and Freya will have my head. You know I cannot interfere.”

  “Unless I command it, I know.” She grinned a little bigger and closed the distance between them. “But I asked. And I’m about to ask for more.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  European house music blared from the club the Germans had rented out for their campaign party. Calleigh stayed close behind Alrik as he cleared a way through the horde clustered outside the velvet stanchions.

  She watched the women in the crowd. They stared at Alrik, nodding and smiling, heads swiveling to get a better look at her Viking. They whispered to their friends, giggling like teenagers and pointing. Calleigh wanted to smack them.

  She squeezed his hand a little tighter. He looked back and gave her a smile, freeing his hand from hers to pull her closer and put her in front of him. He rested his hands possessively on her hips and nuzzled a kiss against her neck.

  Goose bumps danced over her skin and she grinned. Take that, underwear groupies!

  The massive espresso-skinned bald man guarding the door nodded with recognition when he saw Alrik and held open the ropes for them. He stuck out his hand and a thick diamond bracelet slid out from beneath the cuff of his black leather jacket.

  “Hey man, nice pics. You’re gonna have chicks after you like fat kids after cake.”

  Alrik smiled and shook the doorman’s hand but Calleigh knew he probably didn’t have a clue what the guy was talking about.

  Strobe lights and swirling lasers pierced the dark with bursts of brilliant color, pulsing in time with the heavy thumping beat that vibrated right through her chest.

  Alrik looked around, obviously fascinated by the colors, sounds and people. To his credit, he didn’t linger on the scantily dressed cocktail waitresses any longer than the purple-mohawked bartender or the enormous aquarium full of small sharks that made up the back wall behind the bar.

  Several
long seconds of staring and Calleigh realized she was eye level with a cotton-ribbed covered crotch. Alrik’s crotch to be exact. Huge blow-ups of his ad hung on every wall. Apparently the Germans didn’t believe in subtlety.

  This was further re-enforced by the large white cubes placed strategically throughout the club. Atop the cubes, which were actually lit platforms, stood what could only be described as a male go-go dancers, wearing nothing but Uber Homme briefs and a pout. Thank God the Germans hadn’t wanted Alrik to do that.

  The place teemed with hot bodies. Probably every model in Manhattan was here. Tall, leggy blondes and heart-stoppingly beautiful men stood around in clusters, chatting and posing with their drinks. She hadn’t seen so much black clothing since her mother’s funeral. She smoothed the skirt of her emerald green wrap dress and felt hopelessly out of place.

  Seamus waved to her as he made his way through the crowd. He had probably been watching for them, nervous as a nun on a nude beach that they wouldn’t show. He kissed Calleigh’s cheek.

  “So glad you made it, lass. I see you’ve made friends again with our lad. Lovely.” He winked, raising his brows at Alrik and Calleigh’s clasped hands.

  “Yes, we’re friends again.” She kissed him back. “So glad you approve.”

  He clapped Alrik on the back. “Enjoy yourself for a bit but don’t go too far. The boys aren’t here yet—” he rolled his eyes, “—they like to be fashionably late. Once they arrive, be prepared. That’s when this stops being a party and starts being work. Lots of press to talk to, pictures to pose for, hands to shake, babies to kiss, that sort of thing. Have some fun, I’ll be back for you in a bit.”

  Once Seamus had disappeared back into the crowd, Alrik bent his head to Calleigh’s ear. “I do not mind kissing them but who would bring babies to a place like this?”

  She laughed. “It’s just an expression.”

  They headed toward the bar and a large figure stepped in front of them. The man was a head taller than Alrik, just as broad and almost as handsome. He had chiseled features and dark wavy hair. If it weren’t for his beautiful suit and sparkling gold watch, Calleigh would have figured him for a bouncer. Maybe he was a model, too.