by Wendi Zwaduk
The faintest hint of a smile fluttered on her kissable mouth. “You’ve stepped through too many cobwebs. They’ve fuzzed your brain.”
Ah, the sass returned. He hooked his fingers under her chin, thrilled by the tiny gasp as she parted her lips. “For one of the few times in my life, my mind is perfectly clear.” Without thinking any further, he feathered a kiss over her mouth and bit back a groan. Damn, she felt good. Like a woman should, sweet, sassy, and soft in his hands. He closed his eyes and pushed the kiss further, tasting her. Honey, pure feminine honey. When she wound her arms around his neck, he fought off the urge to jump for joy. The one woman he wanted to desire him seemed like she did!
With languid strokes, he caressed her back and cupped the base of her skull. Samara Jacobs embodied calm and restraint, but her kiss intoxicated him like the finest whisky. The denim of his jeans pulled tight over his erection. He could almost imagine the velvet of her body as he slid into her pussy. Fuck yes, he liked her, probably more than he should.
He pushed into her mind for a split second, just to see if he could.
Ryan Black is kissing me!
Holy fuck. If he could hear her thoughts as if they were his own, then she was the one. His true Spirit Mate. Life couldn’t get better.
When he broke the kiss, Samara’s warm breath skittered over his cheeks. He had her on edge as much as he was—nice. She smoothed her hands down his chest, splaying them across his pecs. “You make it hard to think.”
“So do you.” A shiver raced up his spine, but not because of Samara. No, they had a visitor in their private hideaway. If only Samara understood the actions of the walking dead. Soon.
“You realise you aren’t allowed to kiss staff.” Matilda wagged her finger at Ryan. “I paired you up because you begged, not so you could get friendly on my time.”
The blush returned to Samara’s cheeks. Stooping, she retrieved the wavier he hadn’t remembered dropping. She stood and withdrew a pen from her back pocket. “Hold still.” She smoothed the paper over his chest and scrawled her name. “Here’s this. I was never here.” She ducked around him and disappeared through the glass doors.
No matter how hard he tried, Ryan couldn’t tear the smile from his heart or his lips. He’d found his missing piece.
“Yuck, you’re grinning like a fool in love,” Matilda snapped. “I thought you were my boy toy.”
He frowned and tore his gaze from the doorway to peer at his boss. The venom laced in her words floated through his brain. “Matty, I respect you and your power. I do. But I want a woman who isn’t a spectral and really is interested in me. Samara is the one.”
“Then you are in love?”
“Could be, but it’s a little early in the game to be certain. I know her, but I barely know her.” Unless love at first sight could strike twice, he’d take his time with Samara and romance his Spirit Mate right.
“I can see it clear as if I were alive. Once Honoria finds out about the connection, she’ll make it her life’s work to get you together.” Matilda harrumphed. “I couldn’t hold you forever.”
“And you protest my finding a flesh and bone girlfriend? Or do I hear jealousy in your voice? You and I can’t happen.”
Matilda danced her fingertips along his chest, pursing her lips. She peeked up at him through her darkened lashes. “Let’s just say, I don’t think things will last.”
Taking a step back, Ryan edged towards the exit. “Then it’s a good thing you aren’t dating staff.”
“Even if she is your Spirit Mate, she won’t help you find Felicity.”
Ryan strode out of the atrium and straight to the hole in the wall he called an office. The nerve of Matilda trying to butt in. To bring up Felicity. The woman, no matter how undead she was, drove him berserk almost as much as his former wife. Why Matty had latched on to him, he wasn’t sure. Probably because she figured he could help her get wherever she was going—heaven or, most likely, hell.
Taking a deep breath, he clicked his door shut and closed his eyes. Peace and just a moment to calm down. He released the breath and opened his eyes. There, on his couch, sat the other irritation in his life, albeit for different reasons. “Hello, Honoria.”
As if he were coated in some sort of celestial honey, spirits persisted in letting him know they weren’t ready to move on through to the other side. Honoria Dickson had been his spirit companion for the last year—like a grandmother he could see through.
“So?” She crossed her thin arms over her peach floral blouse. “Is Sammy going to do the show?”
“She is.”
Honoria stood and wrung her hands. “Then why the long face?”
Ryan snorted. He loved Honoria as if she were his own grandmother, had since the moment she appeared to him a year prior, but he couldn’t tell her he had feelings for Samara. He’d play that hand close to his vest. “She hates me. She’s everything I could want and she can see the dead, but she’s not interested in me.”
“I doubt that. She just hasn’t fallen at your feet. Give her time.”
“Time? I’m supposed to take her to the TamasMansion. God only knows why… It’s not haunted. Not an apparition of human or beast.”
“Ryan, things aren’t clear now, but they will be. Things happen for a reason and you can’t argue with fate.” She glanced at the clock. “Sammy leaves at four-thirty. If you get moving, you can ask her for a date tonight to get to know her. Maybe even try out that kiss again.”
“How’d you see that, Honey? I know you weren’t in the room.”
“I have my ways. Now go and don’t blow it with my granddaughter, your Spirit Mate. Once things start moving, you’ll have to work fast. I can’t stick around forever to tell you what to do.”
“Once the secret’s loose, you move on?”
“Poof! Just like Houdini.”
“I won’t let you down.” Ryan nodded and strode back out of his office. He patted his pocket, hunting for his keys. “I’m not gonna screw this up even if my life depends on it.”
Chapter Five
At ten minutes to five, Samara strode out of the ArthurShowmanBuilding. She grinned as she neared her car. The sleek lines of the Monte Carlo accentuated the strength of the sports car. Pressing the button on her fob, she unlocked the doors and tossed her canvas bag into the back seat. The rich scent of the leather wrapped around her like a warm blanket, comforting her ragged nerves. She slid into the driver’s seat and tugged the handle to close the door. When she peered through the windshield, Ryan smiled back at her from in front of the vehicle.
“Ryan?” She swallowed a scream and rolled down the window. “Don’t just appear like that.”
“I love to look at well-crafted Detroit steel. Nice car.” He sauntered around the hood of the car and squatted next to her, looking her straight in the eye. Her heart fluttered. “I wanted to talk to you some more, you know, get to know the person whose got my back tomorrow night?”
“How do you plan to do that?” Hopefully not through scaring her silly. She gulped oxygen to calm her jittery nerves. “You scared me to death.”
“I know the difference between living and dead. You’re very much alive and I’m sorry for scaring you.” He drummed his fingers on the window frame. “How about I treat you to supper to beg for your forgiveness?”
“It’s not a date, but you’re forgiven.” She studied his face, the play of sunlight on his cheeks, and the dusting of stubble on his chin. The curve of his jaw reminded her of the unblemished marble of a Grecian statue. How many women had fallen for his charms?
“No date?” Flecks of amber and cocoa glinted in his eyes.
No matter how much her body wanted him, her mind reigned supreme. She fumbled for her words. “Ryan, we’re just going to walk around an abandoned old mansion, not move in together. Whatever Matilda told you is probably more exciting than anything else I can tell you.” Yes, sheer honesty would get her point across. “I’m a simple girl who is no match for a man—a force of n
ature—like you.”
He propped his chin on his folded hands and his voice took on a dreamy quality, causing her to pause. He stared past her as he spoke. “Have you ever wanted to do something, something so out of your character you were shocked you even thought about it? Failure is a very real outcome, but you just have to anyway?”
The words get real flickered in her mind. “Yes,” she murmured. Flashes of her dating life, each time she acted on impulse just to have a companion for the evening.
Sorry, hon, I’m not into hefty girls, where’s your sister?
No, babe, I’m all booked up tonight.
Ask me when you’ve lost a few or send your cute little friend over.
She stared at him, wondering if he’d react in the same manner as prior romantic interests and hoping she’d be able to forget her past.
“Do you like cheese steak?”
Talk about out of left field. She mustered a reply. “Sure.”
“Then follow me.” He winked at her. “I make a mean Philly sandwich.”
“To your house?” She bit down hard on her bottom lip to blot away the surprise. Ryan Black probably propositioned women all the time to complete success. Asking her over for dinner was old hat to him—had to be.
His eyes flashed. “Better yet…” He whipped out his cell phone. “I’ll ride with you.” He stood and spoke into the phone. She watched in shock as he strode around the hood and slid into the seat next to her. “Honey said she’d drive my car back to my apartment after a fashion.”
“Honey? Ryan, get out.” No, he hadn’t pulled a fast one on her. She shoved his shoulder, urging him to the door. “I don’t go anywhere with men already in relationships.”
“Back it down and listen to me.” He remained in place, not pushing closer, not escaping. “You already know Honey, and this isn’t that kind of issue. She’s not my girl and I’m not involved with anyone. Not since Felicity passed.”
“Ryan.”
He placed his index finger over her lips. “Samara, I’m a one-woman man. You’re the woman I want to be involved with once this investigation is over, if you’ll give me that chance.”
Conflicting thoughts pummelled her brain. She wanted to hate him, to keep a safe distance, but her heart wasn’t in compliance. “I won’t date you, but I’ll let it go for now,” she said around his hand.
“Then how about some supper? I’m starved.”
Ryan settled next to her. Being with Samara put him at peace, but he wasn’t hungry for food. He wanted to feast on her, to kiss her soft lips, and feel her body curl against his. He chuckled as she drove, her hands white-knuckled on the wheel. Her cheeks flushed a crimson hue when she glanced at him. Blake Shelton’s gravelly voice crooned over the radio. Breaking the tension, Ryan patted his lap. Time to show his cards and tell her about her special gift.
“Do you know Honoria Walker?”
She nodded. “She’s my grandmother.”
His breath clogged in his throat. Honey hadn’t lied. “That’s wonderful.” She told him not to tempt fate. Funny how things worked out.
“Why do you want to know about my grandma? Oh shit!” Samara slammed on her brakes, pitching Ryan forward in his seat. The smell of burnt rubber wafted around them and the screech of tires echoed in the interior of the car. “I hate drivers who refuse to use their turn signals. Where do I turn? I have no idea where you live.”
“Make a left on Cardington.” Ryan caressed her thigh, offering her comfort and delighted to touch her. “Donofrio’s is my home cooking.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.” She pulled off into a parking spot. Her hands trembled. “Dine in or take out?”
“I figured take out so we could spread the map over my dining room table, but I take it you don’t agree. Sweetie, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Besides I tried to get us killed a moment ago?” Her shoulders slumped as she leant back in her seat. She stared at the ceiling of the sports car. “I don’t think this is a good idea—our spending time together, going to the mansion. And I’m not your sweetie.”
“Why? What’s running through your mind?” He ran his index finger in a whisper-light caress over her cheek, drawing her attention to him. He yearned to burst into her thoughts, to take the information. Instead, he respected her privacy.
“Stop playing with me.” The waver in her brittle words tore at his heart. “You keep acting nice and saying sweet things to me. Stop.” Her eyes misted with unshed tears. “Is this a game or something? A bet, maybe? How long before you get me to crack and fall into your arms because you’re on TV? Don’t do this to me.”
“Samara.”
“I’ll give you my sister’s phone number,” she murmured, resignation thick in her voice. “She’s more up your alley.”
He scoffed at her attempts to push him away and encircled her wrist with his fingers. “I suppose she’s got soul-filled blue eyes, silky chestnut hair, and a smile to light up a small town?”
“Yes. Plus, she’s five-nine with size-C boobs.”
“Doesn’t sound like you at all, which is probably good since I’m attracted to you.” He brought her hand to his mouth, feathering kisses on her knuckles. When she turned away his ire rose, but not towards her. “Tell me whose putting those thoughts into your head? Who said you aren’t good enough or pretty enough? They lied, Samara.”
“Stop.” A wry chuckle escaped her throat. “Just stop and I’ll take you home.”
Ryan scooted close to her, releasing her wrist to cup her jaw. Anything to get through to her. “Hey, I might not be the most honourable man out there, but I’ll never lie to you.”
The sky rumbled overhead and the sound vibrated the sports car. Ryan cast his gaze to the thickening clouds. For a moment the sweet scent of Felicity’s perfume danced on the breeze. He paused. Wind couldn’t stir the air around them—Samara left the windows shut and she hadn’t turned on the ventilation system in the car. So they had a voyeur? Fucking wonderful.
“I’d better take you home before we get drenched.”
“And miss my best home cooking? No way. My treat.”
“You won’t melt?”
“Nah, guys don’t melt—because of rain.” Each time she kissed him? That was another story. The walls around his heart crumbled to dust. Kissing, plundering, and a night full of making love to her—that melted him. “I’ll be right back. Promise me you won’t ditch me. I’ll make tonight worth your while.”
Ryan climbed out of the car and hurried into the building. Make this evening worth your while… Fuck that sounded corny and not at all how he meant it. He placed the order and peeked out the frosted front window. Her car still sat in the parking spot. He cracked his knuckles.
You’ll ruin your fingers.
Suppressing a groan, Ryan turned back to the counter. Trust Honoria to make a mental appearance. Are you my mother? My knuckles aren’t your worry.
I care about Sammy and only want what’s best.
Me? You’re off the mark. I’m no good for anyone even if I want her more than I can begin to comprehend.
You listened to Felicity too much. I know the truth.
“Black?”
Ryan’s mind worked overtime as he nodded and paid for the food. Three years prior, Felicity told him he’d find her once he found his perfect woman. If this is what you and Felicity meant by my Spirit Mate, then help me figure out how to make Samara happy.
That’s what I’m here for. As quickly as she arrived, Honoria vanished.
A growl rumbled in his throat. Damn ghosts. He hoped she’d got his car back to the condo in one piece before prying into his head to talk. He stepped out into the humid air. Samara sat in her car, eyes closed, singing along to the radio. The lyrics were from a sexually suggestive rock song. Seeing the words curl on her lips brought a smile to his face and warmth surging through his veins. Did she picture him as she sang about sex on the floor? Holy hell, he wished it so. Desire ran hotter than any time he spent wit
h Felicity. Beneath, beside, within him, he wanted Samara Jacobs.
He rapped on the window to gain her attention. The rain dotting his back did little to cool the fever spiriting through his body.
“Ryan.” Samara screeched and fumbled to turn off the radio. “That’s the second time. You could warn me if this is going to happen on a regular basis.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt the concert.” Ryan slid into the seat and placed the paper bag on the floor between his feet. Regular basis? He loved the sound of that. “It was sexy.”
“Uh-huh.” She shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. “Back to your house?”
“You read my mind.” Once there he’d show her how much he wanted her and all the places they could explore—body, mind, soul.
“That’s not even close to what’s whirling in your mind.” She snickered. “I said nothing about fucking senseless on the couch, dining room table, stairs, and finally the bed.”
“I am who I am and I don’t lie.” He shifted in his seat to cover the growing erection behind his zipper. Maybe she knew more about sharing her thoughts than she let on. “Although your ideas sound like a better plan.”
She shook her head. “Just direct me to the house so I can get this evening over with.”
Chapter Six
Ten minutes later, Samara parked in front of bay thirty-six of the Hindeman Condominiums. Lush, thick flowers festooned the hanging baskets on each balcony, which manicured grass outlined the ebony lot. “I’m not surprised you live here.” She gazed up at the dreary slate grey building. Lines of polished green tinted glass ringed each floor and reflected the darkening clouds overhead. “Only the finest?”
Ryan snorted. “Hardly. I got the condo as a gift from my Aunt Ella Mae. She said I needed a place to settle down with a good girl.”