by Cate Masters
“Stop.” More forcefully this time, though she didn’t seem to be talking to him. Or was she?
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Frustration roughed his tone.
Holding her hands to her temples, her hair covered her face.
A rumble like low thunder sounded. He could have sworn it was in the room with them. Whatever was happening, it was frightening her. And he didn’t like it. “Don’t worry, Joss. I won’t let it hurt you.”
She turned slowly to face him. “It’s not me who’s in danger, Eric. It’s you.” She whispered the last.
“I’m still not afraid.”
“Please leave. I need some time to—” She hugged herself.
Not wanting to upset her any more than she already was, he backed away one step at a time. “I’m not going far. Or for long.”
She gave the slightest of nods.
Every instinct urged him not to go. Whatever had happened tonight didn’t matter. Whatever might threaten them in the future didn’t matter. He and Joss belonged to each other.
Jaw clenched, he fought the urge to stay, backed away, and stepped outside. “She is mine. Nothing is going to stand between us. Do you hear?” A few months ago, he’d have slapped himself for making such an announcement to the night. Not now. Unnamable things lurked out there. Unseen yet present.
A strange thrum filled the air. Like metal to a magnet, his steps brought him to the field. Running his hand along their blooms, he sat down, unwilling to travel too far from her. Maybe the floral oil had seeped into his bloodstream, because calm infused him. He and Joss would be together. His heart beat with the certainty. Inhaling deeply, he stretched out under the stars crowding the heavens. Such a brilliant night. If he’d stayed home, he’d have missed this view. Missed being here. He imagined Joss beside him. Bending over him. Lying atop him.
He couldn’t guess how long he laid there. The headlights of a car wound through the night. I should probably leave. Then he’d have to get up, and the field was surprisingly comfortable.
Soft footsteps crossed the stone bridge and approached. “Hello? Who’s there?”
Joss. He sat up. “Hi.”
Uncertainly, she clasped her hands. “What are you doing?”
Dressed in only knit shorts and a tank top, her skin caught the glow of the moon. Fluttering in the breeze, her blond hair appeared silver. Magical.
“Admiring the view.” He laughed. A good, hearty laugh. It shook the last worry from his muscles. “How did you know I was out here?”
She approached with halting steps. “I didn’t. I’m not sure what drew me out here.”
Oddly enough, he knew. He had. “Did you ever come out here and look at the stars?”
Skeptical, she peered at him. “Have you been drinking?”
He patted the ground. “Come here and sit.”
Wariness crossed her face.
“Please? Sit here and look at the stars with me. Then if you still think I’ve lost it, you can call someone to haul me away.”
She stammered, “All right. For a minute.” She knelt and sat back against her legs.
“There. Now look up.”
She lifted her chin. “Oh, my.” Tilting her head, she craned her neck upward.
“You can’t get the full effect sitting up. Lie down.” He patted the ground next to him.
“No, I don’t—”
He tugged at her arm. “Seriously.”
When she settled, sublime happiness washed over him. “Am I right?”
Her soft intake of breath told him he was. “It is incredible.”
Lifting to one elbow, he touched her cheek. “You’re incredible.”
“Eric…”
“Please listen to me. I think about you—about us—every moment of every day.” The torment of his soul echoed in his gritty voice.
Her skin glowed pale blue in the moonlight, so lovely he had to taste her. Leaning to kiss her, she tensed. Moonbeams glinted in her eyes. She touched his face, and he hesitated, afraid she’d reject him again.
Instead, her fingers tangled in his hair, and she drew him down. The warmth of her body beneath him washed away his anxiety. His heart beat rapid as a hummingbird’s wings, and his heart poured out of his mouth in endearments and wishes and wants. She didn’t respond in words. Her hands slid over his back, down his thigh, and he knew. After removing his T-shirt, he laid it on the ground and lifted her atop it. This time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake of rushing.
Crouched above her, he nibbled her breast through her tank top. Unencumbered by a bra, her nipples hardened beneath. At her soft gasp, every cord of his muscle hardened in response. He forced himself to move slowly, and dragged the T-shirt higher, kissing every inch of her flawless skin along the way. She lifted her head and he eased the shirt off, his mouth finding hers the instant it reappeared.
Unlike before, she took her time too, lavishing kisses on him. Opening to him, her tongue met his. Their fingers intermingled as they helped remove each other’s clothes one by one. His breath warm as the night air on her skin, she wrapped her legs around him, urging him on, meeting his thrusts. Soft murmurs mingling with his. He wanted to imprint every moment in his memory. Her sweat-glistened skin against his, how perfect she was in every way. The way their bodies fit together as if fashioned from opposite molds. Unable to hold back any longer, a guttural growl escaped as he let his desire loose. She clutched him close, matching every movement. She opened to him as no other woman ever had, uninhibited.
When they lay spent and breathless, he rolled away to relieve her of his weight. He stretched his arm out to enfold her, and she snuggled against his chest.
Despite its awkward beginning, a perfect night. “Who needs fireworks with so many fireflies?”
With a gasp, she jerked her head back. “What did you say?”
“The fireflies. There are so many… Hey, what’s wrong?”
She stared at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed, like he’d just revealed himself to be a serial killer. “It’s you.”
He ran his hand up her back. “Of course it’s me.” Caressing her, he waited for her to explain. “Hey.”
She stroked his cheek. “All this time. It was you.”
“I don’t understand.” What was wrong? Hadn’t they shared something wonderful? Obviously she had second thoughts, very quickly.
Perfection had a short shelf life.
Chapter 25
Joss blocked the waves of confusion from her mind. Hearing Eric utter those words—the same words in her dream—shook her to the core. The ground rumbled beneath them. “Stop it. Now.”
The tremors lessened, and she sat up.
Something had beckoned her to the field. A voiceless thought told her come.
Oh, she had, all right. In the most exquisite way. Remembering sent a warm flush through her again.
The man in her dream represented her soul mate, or so she’d believed. So she’d hoped, especially after Lydia’s premonition. All this time, it had been Eric. So obvious, it had eluded her.
Eric sat up beside her. “You’re not going inside, are you?”
She let out a breath. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
He deserved an explanation. How could she explain her predicament? Rubbing her arms did nothing to shake the chill. “You’re the man in my dream.”
“What?”
She didn’t dare look at him. “Since I moved here, I’ve had a recurring dream.”
“About me?”
“No. Yes. I mean, I didn’t know he was you until a few minutes ago. You said exactly what the man in my dream says.” She closed her eyes and braced herself. “Right after we make love.”
“Incredible.”
Her eyes flew open. “Don’t you mean insane?”
No doubt in his face. Only love. “Of course not. What does it mean?”
Did she dare reveal it? How could she not? “Lyd
ia said the man in my dream is my soul mate.”
A lazy smile, and he reached for her. “I’m starting to like your aunt.”
“It’s dangerous, Eric.” He’d think her truly insane if she revealed her family connection. And the risk it posed for him.
“The only danger is to deny it any longer. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. All I do is think about you. About us.”
“I can’t let anything happen to you.” Fear stole her voice, and it came out in a whisper. Every shadow might conceal some dark betrayer who’d report to Plouton.
He drew her into his embrace. “I’d never let anything harm you.”
“I know.” She cupped his face and kissed him. When his strong embrace tightened, a thrill shot through her, and she melted against him. His moans filled her ears, his breath washed over her like a wave, whispering her name like the wind through the trees, shaking her limbs. The tingle in her senses spread through her veins, burning. Eric was the cause and the cure. The only man she wanted. If she had to go through Hell for him, or fight the forces of The Underworld to protect him, then she would.
He breathed against her neck. “Don’t send me away.”
She held him with all her might. “Never again.” Whatever it took to keep him with her, and safe, she’d do it.
* * * *
Sometime before dawn, Eric kissed her goodbye and she curled up on her bed, hugging a pillow. Until morning’s first light, she drifted in and out of sleep.
Annie called to say she needed to pick up more coffee and would be a few minutes late. “We have enough to get started this morning. If the overnight people are coffee lovers, though, we’ll be in trouble.”
“I’ll make a pot for them.” She should hurry and shower before they rose. Small tasks required much focus, her mind overwhelmed by lingering sensations from last night. Limbs tangled, skin moving against skin, the delicious waves of bliss.
By the time people trickled downstairs, Annie arrived like a whirlwind. “I hope they like pancakes. I’m in the mood to make stacks.”
Grateful for the diversion, Joss fed the three couples. Annie’s instincts proved correct. Apparently pancakes were an antidote to hangovers, and they left satisfied, if bleary-eyed. Thank goodness her guests were away at a party much of the night, and hopefully heard none of the noises coming from her room.
A few girls who boarded their horses at the inn arrived with their moms, and soon greeted the new trainer. Lesson day. The riders’ posts appeared smooth, heels down. The horses’ tails fanned behind them as they cantered.
Grabbing the basket, she strolled to the field and began snipping blooms. Soon the lavender would be gone, and the chill of autumn would be upon them. No more fairy lights.
Across the road, a van drove into Eric’s practice. What was he doing right now? He hadn’t said he’d return tonight, but her heart told her he would. Was she being selfish, to want Eric, knowing he could be targeted for death because of her?
* * * *
Happier than he could remember, Eric went through the motions of daily tasks. Everything about Joss was right. Never before had he experienced such a grounding, life-affirming force. Fate brought her here for him alone. She filled his thoughts throughout the day, and he couldn’t bear to be away from her any longer.
“I have to do something,” he said, more loudly than he’d intended.
“Pardon?” Terry asked from the doorway.
Hell. “Nothing.”
Warily, the assistant turned.
“Terry? How many more appointments today?”
“Three. If no emergency calls, it’ll be a short day.”
“Thanks.” He knew exactly what he’d do.
After seeing Mr. Harrow’s bulldog, who needed only an annual checkup, Eric stopped at the front desk. “If you need me, call my cell.” He had no intention of staying home alone. The inn was more like home to him anyway.
Rushing through the breezeway, he laughed. Upstairs, he packed an overnight bag, whistling. After tossing it in the truck, he drove less than a mile and turned down the inn’s driveway.
Lying outside the summer kitchen, Taz woofed at his approach, and after struggling to a stand, ran as fast as his three legs could carry him.
“Hey, boy. Glad to see you too.”
Taz’s single bark seemed to ask, what took you so long?
Eric laughed. “I’m a slow learner. But I’m here to stay. I hope.”
Joss peered out the window, and her mouth formed a surprised O as she opened the door.
It bolstered his good humor. He probably should have called, but why chance another rejection? “Hello.”
“Hi.”
He silenced any possible argument with a quick kiss. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No—”
“Good. I’m starving. What are you in the mood for?” He whisked her inside the back door.
“The guests went home, so I didn’t defrost anything.”
“So we’re alone?” He couldn’t resist tasting her again. If he wasn’t careful, he might devour her whole, but he’d rather savor her bit by bit.
Her lilting laugh sounded like angels, and he rocked her in his embrace. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“I know, me too.”
His stomach grumbled. Loudly.
“Haven’t you eaten?” She broke away and opened the fridge. “I could defrost a few steaks in the microwave.”
“Those would take a long time to make, wouldn’t they?” Precious time lost to cooking when they could be doing much more constructive activities.
She shrugged. “Longer than I’d like.”
“I’m famished. Pancakes would be great. I’ve heard good things about your pancakes.”
Her brow arched. “I’m sure you have.”
The hint of a smile intrigued him. “I could help.”
“All right.”
The words had an airiness about them. An openness. And with openness came possibility.
“First, would you go put on some music? The stereo’s in the front room.”
“Anything for you.” Another kiss lingered, too delicious to stop.
Her smile broke the seal. “Go on.”
He hurried to the parlor. Pots clattered in the kitchen. He ran his fingers across the books lining the shelves, then the DVDs and CDs. He stopped at Bonnie Raitt. After popping it in the stereo, he practically danced his way back to the kitchen.
She glanced up from mixing the batter, face luminous in a smile. “Love your taste in music.”
“One of the best slide guitarists. And the voice of an angel.” Not as sweet as Joss’s voice.
A nod, and Joss poured the batter atop the griddle. “And a strong female. Practically a goddess.”
He stepped behind her and slid his arms around her waist. “Not compared to you.”
Beneath his touch, she tensed, but smiled over her shoulder. “Why don’t you start the coffee?”
What happened? Had he said something wrong? He wouldn’t push it. “Sure.”
She sent another stiff smile as he worked beside her. Did I say something wrong? Flipping pancakes, she said nothing more so he didn’t either. He found the plates and silverware and set them on the counter.
She stacked three fluffy cakes on his plate. “Dinner. Such as it is. Oh wait, syrup.” A quick trip to the pantry, and she handed him an unlabeled plastic jug.
As he poured it, the faint scent of lavender wafted up. “Did you make this?”
“It’s my lavender syrup.”
Picking up the fork and knife, he waited for her to sit before digging in. Savoring the taste, he nodded. “Mmm. The rumors are true.”
She froze. “What?”
“Best pancakes I’ve ever tasted.” His mouth closed around the fork, his smile moving as he chewed. When she stared at his mouth, his appetite shifted lower.
“Good.” The word came out dreamily. Pink
warmed her cheeks, and she smiled. “I’m glad.”
“You’d better eat some. You’ll need it to keep up your strength.” He winked. “For later.”
She bit her lip. “Eric…”
Oh no. He didn’t like the sound of her tone. “Don’t.”
She met his gaze warily. “What?”
He grasped her hand, stroked his thumb across hers. Anything to keep the connection strong. “Please don’t second-guess this. It’s amazing. Don’t deny it.”
“It is. It’s just moving so fast.”
“Seems perfect to me.” When she hesitated, he heaved a breath. “If you need to slow down, we will. If you want me to go home, point me toward the door. Just don’t shut me out.” He squeezed her hand. “Please.”
A half-hearted smile, and she nodded. After dabbing a napkin to her mouth, she rose. “Annie whipped up some delicious desserts. White chocolate macadamia cookies or peach pie.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Just coffee. Too many temptations.”
“Black, right?”
“You remembered.”
She handed him a full mug. “It’s an occupational hazard.”
For him, too, but he doubted he could forget anything about her. After she prepared her cup, he followed her to the parlor.
Eric sunk onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh. He stretched one arm across the back. An unspoken invitation. Setting her cup on the table, she curled into the space he’d opened for her, and nuzzled against his neck.
Linking his arms around her, he pulled her closer. “So, no guests tonight?”
“None.”
He closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. Lavender. It wound through him, loosening muscles that had tightened through the day. Making him drowsy. “Are you as exhausted as I am?”
She stroked his hair. “Probably. Are you thinking we should go to bed early?”
He grinned. “Now works for me.”
“You sure you don’t want anything else?”
“You, Joss. I want you.” Muscles quivering, he held her in his arms, wanting to crush her to him in an endless embrace. He waited for some sign from her.