My Forbidden Desire

by Carolyn Jewel

  “Thanks.” She put a hand on his wrist again, and the sizzle was definitely there. And then she leaned toward him. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew an invitation to get down and nasty when he got one. And, yes, he was on board that train. With just one condition.

  “You know how it has to be, Alexandrine.”

  “I don’t understand why. Aren’t you relaxed now?”

  He stood up before he could do something stupid. Really, really stupid. He headed for the kitchen. Fast. The sooner she was at his back, the sooner he wouldn’t have to look at her long legs or think about how much he wanted them wrapped around him with her panting and begging him to get on with doing what they damn near did last night.

  She followed him. Mary’s little lamb, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t want the reminder of what he wasn’t going to get. And if she was going to offer, he didn’t trust himself not to accept. He made it to the table with her right behind him. The first thought in his head when he turned around was that she needed to be naked, and he needed to be naked and taking care of her heat.

  “What’s the problem, Xia?”

  “Nothing,” he said. He opened a cabinet he knew would be empty. “I’m hungry and there’s no food in this place.” He was trying. Really trying not to go off on her, but he wasn’t having much luck. And that was with the copa. Without it, she’d be flat on her back and he’d be driving hard. “Fuck,” he said to another empty cabinet. “Just fuck this whole thing.”

  “Has anybody mentioned you have a major attitude problem?”

  He glanced at the ceiling like he was calling on the heavens for patience. Would it hurt for him to hope the ceiling crashed on her? “All the time, baby.”

  Jaysus, he wanted out of here. Away from her magic and her long legs. Either that or he wanted in her pants. Either one worked. But she wasn’t saying yes to the one thing he had to have consent to do with her.

  “What happened to Mr. Nice Guy?”

  “He died of starvation about an hour ago.” His retort just came out, no stopping by his brain to check whether it was a good idea.

  “What is your problem? I thought that stuff was supposed to help you. If you ask me, you’re worse.”

  He looked at the floor and then looked at her. “What’s my problem? I’m hungry for one thing.”

  She lifted one eyebrow. “And?”

  “And I want you so bad it hurts. Your magic is getting to me.”

  She went quiet, and hell, her silence cut. The skin down his back rippled. Pissing off a witch wasn’t smart. She took a step toward him, and he could feel the magic boiling up in her. From long habit, he braced himself for her retaliation. But nothing happened.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a shrug. “I wish it was different,” she said. “I really do.”

  His day was just getting better and better, wasn’t it? He had a witch feeling sorry for him. “Can we just shut up about this now?”

  “I know there’s no food.” Alexandrine went to a cabinet and got down a bag of popcorn, the old-fashioned kind, which gave him a great view of her ass. Nice. He amused himself by imagining her naked ass against his naked groin. With his naked dick up inside her naked—maybe that wasn’t a safe image. Alexandrine got out a heavy iron pan and a bottle of canola oil. “There hasn’t exactly been any chance to go shopping.” She turned on a burner and poured oil in the pan. “I hate to cook.”

  Xia knew he’d been an asshole to her, so he manned up. “I’m sorry if I sounded like I was bitching at you. Not your fault.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “I thought you didn’t like to cook.”

  She leaned against the counter to keep an eye on the four kernels she’d thrown in the pot with the oil. “Making popcorn isn’t cooking.”

  Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen her cook yet. The day he’d tagged along with her to her job, she’d stopped to pick up something on the way home. Well, shit. He got that one wrong, didn’t he? “I’m sorry.”

  She sighed and waved him off. “Never mind.”

  “Look. I’m used to being told what to do and when to do it.” Her eyes got big when he said that, and he didn’t know what that meant, either. Was she pissed off? “This freedom thing is new for me. I mess up all the time.”

  One of the kernels popped, and Alexandrine turned back to her pot of heating oil. She had one bare foot braced on the arch of the other. Long, long legs. He didn’t know what to make of her silence. His spine tingled—not from her pulling but from him expecting her to. That’s what the magekind did. They fucked over the kin whenever and wherever they could. All she did was pour in the rest of the kernels and cover the pot.

  They didn’t say anything while the kernels started popping. She got out a sissy bright red bowl that said popcorn on the side with fluffy white popped kernels dancing along the rim. “You have got to be kidding,” he said.

  “I’m a perfectly likeable woman, I’ll have you know.” She checked the popcorn but replaced the lid. “We all have days when we’re not in such a great mood, but any way you look at it, I’m not the wicked witch you think I am.”

  Man, five minutes of trying to be nice, and he was up to his eyeballs with stress. “Witches make my skin crawl.” He poked a finger in her direction. “Maybe it’s not your fault, but my skin’s crawling right now.”

  She leaned back, her arms folded across her chest. “Fine. I’m a scary witch who can whoop your ass just by crossing my eyes.” She crossed her eyes at him. “You’re not writhing on the floor gasping for air.” Her eyes un-crossed. “Gee, what went wrong? Could it be I can’t do magic worth a damn?” Her voice rose. “Or maybe I don’t believe in hurting people just because they have a personality disorder.”

  “You’re still a witch.”

  Her eyes went all big and hurt again. This was not going well. She ought to know the kind of danger she was in, being on the wrong end of Rasmus Kessler’s interest, only she didn’t really, truly get it, and that was just freaking fucked up. Hell, Iskander would have been a better choice than him for guard-dog duty, and Iskander was a complete psycho. And he still wanted her, too.

  “I can see we’re going to have a real fun time this weekend.” She took the pot off the burner, filled the sissy red bowl, and sprinkled some salt on it.

  “What? No butter?”

  “Fresh out of butter.” She ate some. “Besides, butter is bad for you.”

  Xia stood up and snagged a handful of popcorn from her bowl. Even without butter, it was the best popcorn he’d ever had. Beat the microwaved shit by a mile. Jaysus, but he wanted her. Right now. On the table.

  “You know,” she said. She didn’t have any idea what he was thinking. “You’re not the only one with issues. I’ve been trying to convince myself last night was more about the long drought between boyfriends than it was about you.”

  “But?”

  “I’ve never met anyone who can deal with what I am. You can, and you just can’t imagine what that’s like for someone like me. People have been calling me crazy practically my whole life. But you… you’re not going to find out about my witchiness and dump my ass.” She held out the bowl to him, and he grabbed more popcorn. “Oh, I know, you hate witches, but at least I don’t have to pretend with you. So I keep thinking, ‘Hell, yes, I should sleep with you.’ ”

  Xia looked at the table. Looked sturdy enough to him. “Works for me.”

  “I’ve been wondering if I can handle your restrictions. Maybe. Probably not. Maybe. Who the hell knows.”

  He ate more popcorn. “And?”

  She gave him a lingering look. “And I want my friend Maddy to meet you.”

  He about choked. “What?”

  “I invited her over for dinner tonight.” She gave him a fake bright grin. “I hope you like Thai.”

  “Cancel it.”

  “It’s not like she’s a normal person, Xia. She’s the strongest and smartest of us, and I need to talk to her about what’s going on. I’m going to go
crazy if I don’t.”

  “She’s a witch.” He walked to her refrigerator and yanked it open. Then he opened both the bins. The shriveled carrots were still there.

  “Not like Rasmus, Xia. She’s not like that. We’re not like that.”

  He stared into her fridge for half a second longer, then shut the door hard enough to rattle the interior. “I don’t want her here.”

  “I think she should meet you,” she said.

  Talk about getting uptight. “I’m not a pet for you to show off.”

  “I know that. But—”

  He opened her cabinets one after another and found mostly dust or her dishes and glasses. In the last one, he grabbed the can of butter beans. “Are these any good?”

  Alexandrine shrugged. “I dunno. Can opener’s missing.”

  “I have no duty to protect any witch besides you.”

  “I know that, too.” She looked down to gather herself. “She’s still coming. You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to. You can stay in the bedroom.”

  “Ashamed of me?” he said.

  “You’re being a jerk again. Why is that?”

  Xia stood in the middle of her kitchen, glaring at her. “If there’s trouble, she’s on her own.”

  “Fair enough,” she said.

  He went back to searching for food he might have missed before. “There’s nothing to eat here. What kind of person lives like this? Why the hell don’t you have any food?”

  “What the hell is freaking you out? I haven’t been shopping in a while, all right? And now I’m under house arrest, so it’s not like that’s going to change.”

  He put his hands on his hips. “You went to work. What makes you think you can’t go grocery shopping?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She sat down, legs splayed out. “Fiends beating down my doors and trying to kill me?”

  “As long as we go while it’s daylight, we’ll be fine. We’ve got three more hours at least before it’s iffy. Even the magekind are careful about exposing themselves to normals. They’ll stay low during the day.” Getting the hell out of this tiny apartment was the best idea he’d had all century. “Let’s go.”

  She leaned back on her chair. “We can always order in.”

  “They can’t deliver enough food to keep me happy. I’m starving. Let’s go.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Alexandrine went off to find her shoes while Xia put on his leathers. They went outside without saying a word. She adjusted an empty backpack while Xia produced an extra helmet for her. She gave his Harley a doubtful look while he started it up. “I’ve never ridden on one of these.” She had to raise her voice over the engine noise.

  He revved the motor. “Baby, all you have to do is hang on for the ride.”

  Chapter 11

  Alexandrine got on behind him with the motor roaring loud enough to vibrate her entire body. She put her arms around him and held on. Thank God he couldn’t see her close her eyes in terror as they got moving. And thank God he couldn’t read her mind about having her arms around him. The man turned her on like nobody’s business.

  Once they got to the store, it was obvious his mood hadn’t really improved much. Xia made himself a really large, annoying shadow that didn’t say a word; he just followed her everywhere and from time to time threw something in her cart and dared her to take it out. She didn’t. Lots of pasta and meat, she noticed, and no junk food. If the guy needed to eat to keep himself on an even keel, then she wanted him to eat. She hoped she had enough money in the bank to cover the bill.

  There was another problem besides his mood and appetite. He was seriously hot no matter what. In his leathers, he was to-die-for sexy. Women and men gave themselves whiplash looking at him. A whole lotta staring going on in the soup aisle.

  She should have expected this, but she hadn’t. And, oh, the humiliation. Alexandrine was jealous of everyone who drooled over him, because, hey, pick one at random and she, or he, had a better chance of getting him in the sack than she did. Unless she agreed to be locked down.

  Her head filled with images of a plain T-shirt stretched across a lean, muscled chest, and now she was imprinted with the recent recollection of her on his motorcycle with her front plastered against his back and her arms around his no-fat middle. He clomped after her, keeping so close she bumped against him every time she turned around.

  “This is dumb,” she said when she’d had enough of him tailing her through the store like he was glued to her butt. “Dumb, dumb, dumb.” She faced him and pushed him in the chest with both hands. He didn’t budge. “Lay off, would you?” She lowered her voice. “No one’s going to attack me in the vegetable department. And if they do?” She picked up a zucchini and waved it at him. “It’s the vegetable of doom for them.”

  He didn’t laugh. He just stood there staring over her shoulder, looking like he’d stepped out of the pages of Bad Boy Magazine. He was just too freaking hot for her to live. Those black curls of his were killing her. Right now, a few dangled over his forehead, and golly, didn’t she just want to run her fingers through his hair?

  Maybe she’d be okay doing it his way. Or not. Probably not. Mostly.

  Xia scowled. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  “I thought you said we’d be safe.”

  “Probably. But I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not.” She pushed him again. Naturally, he didn’t move. She grabbed a pineapple and put it in her cart. “I’m shopping for you, too, you know.” A bag of potatoes. Some grapes and a can of the fake whipped cream sitting by the ersatz strawberry shortcakes, because, well, hell, she was an eternal optimist, wasn’t she? Was she really considering agreeing to his terms? What she needed was a distraction. A reason not to be looking at him so often.

  “Are you finished?” he asked. He’d just dropped two large bags of baby carrots into the cart when his attention shot to her left. She rolled her eyes and looked to the right, where a tall man with a military haircut was heading into the produce section. Whoa. He was probably stopping by after work; he was dressed in black trousers and a gray sweater that draped like cashmere. Very European of him. The way he walked reminded her of Xia. The man gripped an empty basket in one hand as he headed for the bok choy.

  Their gazes met the way that sometimes happens in stores, in an impersonal friendliness. A draft rippled the hair on the back of her neck. She smiled, and so did he, and he moved on with his shopping. She followed his progress. Wow, he was good-looking, coming and going. Talk about an excellent reason to be distracted. Totally hot. Not as hot as Xia, in her opinion, but a damn good-looking man. Too bad Maddy wasn’t here. He was her type. Sophisticated. Probably had money and a penchant for spending lavishly on the woman of his dreams. As for her? She went for big bad boys in leather. Who thought she was the scum of the earth. Sigh.

  She glanced at Xia. He was looking at her, and it wasn’t one of his I-hate-you-you-fucking-witch looks. He looked at her like maybe her getting the whipped cream was a brilliant idea. Her stomach dropped to her toes. What the hell, she thought. You only live once, and if she didn’t like what he needed, well, they could stop or she could just say, Honey, never again. She gathered up her nerve, kept looking at Xia, and said, “Okay. We’ll do it your way.”

  At first he didn’t get what she meant. Then he did. His gaze went from intense to scalding hot. Her heart did a few extra beats as she waited for him to say something. But all he did was touch her shoulder while she was standing there clutching a cauliflower. His fingertips lingered. Alexandrine melted. And then, holy cow, he slipped a hand behind her, into the curve of her lower back. Like they were a couple or something.

  Oh, my God. They were going to sleep together, with no sleeping involved. She was going to strip off his clothes and touch his naked skin and explore his body. His finger worked under her shirt and stroked up her spine. And then he would do his thing, and, well, whether she’d be able to do anything
was a question yet to be answered.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Liar.” His mouth twitched. “I won’t hurt you,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”

  He kept his hand on her back, caressing her with his fingertips. And, boy, she was ready and willing to do it right here. In the interest of avoiding a scene likely to end in their arrest, she headed for the spinach. The good-looking guy was nearby, too, and he gave her a once-over that did nothing for her now. She shivered, though.

  “What?” Xia said, but it wasn’t a nice, easygoing inquiry. He sounded intense, even for him.

  She frowned. “What, what?”

  “You shivered. Why?”

  “I got cold.”

  “Listen to me.” He bent his head close to hers and kept his voice low. “If there was another mage here besides you, I’d know. A mageheld is another matter. I can’t feel a mageheld. They’re cut off from the kin. But you”—he crowded her even more—“you can.”

  “I didn’t feel anything.”

  “You shivered.”

  “People shiver all the time.” She lifted her forearm toward him. “We’re standing right by the spinach misters, Xia. I got cold. That’s it.” She stopped short. Really, was she sure? Really sure? She got a hollow feeling in her chest. “At least, I think that was it.”

  “Tell me what you felt. Where, when, and how.”

  “Cold. Along my arms.” Now that he was making her tell him, everything sounded so much creepier than it had felt at the time. “The back of my neck, too.”

  “Not in your head or maybe your chest?”

  She thought about it. “Maybe. I’m not sure. It didn’t last long.” She thought about how she’d felt. “Like a draft of icy air along my skin.”

  He frowned. “Is it possible to tell who set you off?”

  Right. She was going to tell him she was ogling a complete stranger five minutes after she’d told him she’d have sex with him on his terms. “Seriously, Xia, I thought it was the misters.”

  “This isn’t a game, Alexandrine. I need you to be straight with me.”