Only by Erik.
My voice was husky when I finally swallowed. “These will definitely keep me until dinner. And I suppose that will take a while.”
“About twenty minutes,” he said. “Longer if you want yours well-done.”
“Medium rare.” But even that would take longer than twenty minutes. “You’re not going to throw them on the grill while they’re frozen, are you?”
“They’re not frozen.”
“You just took them out—”
I broke off when he unwrapped the butcher paper and revealed two thawed filets. But how…?
Oh. Frost giant.
“Show off,” I said.
His grin made my heart skip. “A little.”
“I imagine you don’t get many chances to.” I licked a bit of yogurt from my thumb and reached for another crostini. Meat sizzled when he laid it on the grill, and the mouth-watering scent was already filling the kitchen when he returned to the island. “So there are some positives to the frost giant thing?”
Smile vanishing, he shook his head. “Not any that are worth the negative.”
The curse. “But if the curse hadn’t jumped to your line?”
“There’d be more positives.” His steady gaze met mine. “But the curse did jump. I can’t escape that.”
No one could escape something like that when it came for them. “I used to be envious of my mom—I used to wish that I hadn’t been in the skipped generation. I still am a little envious. But at the same time, I’m glad I don’t have to make the decisions that she does. How to use her ability…and how not to use it. I guess magic is always double-edged.”
“Yes,” he agreed softly.
And the only thing to do was try to blunt those edges and protect the people around them. As my mother did. As Erik tried to protect me. As his grandfather had tried to protect his wife by building this fortress.
But not just a wife. His family. And someone else must have taken that one step further, because I was pretty sure the layout of the kitchen, family seating area, and dining room hadn’t always been so open. Someone had knocked down walls, so whoever worked in the kitchen wouldn’t be separated from the activity at the heart of the house. Not just protecting the family, but bringing them together.
They’d done it seamlessly, too. The construction was flawless. I couldn’t be certain that there had been a change in the original layout until I studied the kitchen again. Stainless steel. Sandstone brick. More river rock under the hood. Some old, but lots of new. “Your grandfather built this house. But this kitchen isn’t from the fifties or sixties.”
“No.”
I eyed the built-in refrigerator, the gas range, and the double ovens. All top-of-the-line appliances that would probably still look modern three decades from now. “It was remodeled about ten years ago?”
“Yes.” A lick of flame flared up as he turned over a steak. “When my grandfather died, I took over the house and redesigned this part of it.”
“Your dad didn’t? It’s not a family home?”
“It is. But my father isn’t affected by the curse.”
And didn’t need to rely on the house to protect him and Erik’s mother during the solstice. “You weren’t affected by it ten years ago.”
“No. But the possibility was there.” His jaw tightened, and he didn’t need to say the rest: That possibility had been realized. “So the house is mine. I have a loft in Denver, but this is mine.”
Not just owned, but his. “It fits you.” Big, solid, and designed to protect. “Like this room. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve built houses with a kitchen like this, just because the owners have the money, but half of them would never step foot into it. You know your way around one, though. It’s not just for show.”
I didn’t think anything about this house—or Erik—was for show. There was too much strength and purpose in both.
“You can thank my mother.” A faint smile touched his mouth as he set the steaks aside to rest. “She insisted I learn.”
I picked up the last crostini. “So that you could take care of yourself?”
“So that I could give someone at least one reason to marry me.”
The toast caught in my throat, choking me. One reason? I could see a million reasons why someone would want to.
Coughing, I tried to swallow. Erik shoved a glass of water into my hand and watched me sip, his diamond eyes glittering and his knuckles white.
“You’re all right?” His voice sounded as rough as my throat felt.
I nodded and managed to catch my breath. “I just laughed at the wrong time. Your mom really didn’t think they’d have a reason?”
“Not the usual one.”
What was the usual one? Love? Kids? Companionship? Sex?
But those wouldn’t be Erik’s primary concern, I realized. The worst thing he’d imagined was meeting the woman who triggered the curse. So he would put finding someone who didn’t trigger it before all of the usual reasons.
That completely ruled me out. No wonder he’d filed me away as a mistake and turned me down for dinner. Not just to protect me. I was the opposite of what he’d been looking for.
My gaze fell to my empty plate. I wasn’t choking anymore, but the ache in my throat wouldn’t go away. “So she wanted you to find some nice girl and convince her that you’d at least be useful in the kitchen?”
“Yes.”
I would have taken him for that reason. And so many others. So why wasn’t he taken? “Is the frost giant thing a hard sell?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to sell it.”
“But you would tell her, right? Did your mom know before she married your dad?”
“Yes. To both.” Porcelain scraped over the counter as he abruptly cleared away my plate and crossed to the sink. “He told her exactly why he was marrying her.”
“I guess that wasn’t for the usual reason, either?”
“No. With her, he didn’t risk the curse. He liked and respected her. And she could give him children.”
“That’s pretty cold.” And I’d been right about the priorities. All the usual reasons were there—kids, companionship—but love was glaringly missing. So was sex, but considering that they’d made one child, it must have been included.
“It was practical. It was what my mother wanted, too. She had a bad first marriage. She was just looking for stability and friendship, not romance.”
“That makes sense, I guess.” It wasn’t what I wanted. But I understood it. And I supposed it was better than lying to a woman and letting her believe he was marrying for love. “So they’re not in love with each other. They’re just…partners.”
“Yes.” He bit off the word as if it tasted bad.
Suddenly uncertain, I studied him. He stood at the sink and I couldn’t see his expression, but his body had tensed—his spine rigid and the muscles in his arms sharply defined. When he rinsed my plate beneath the faucet, icy claws tipped his long fingers.
“Erik,” I said softly. “Are you losing control, or are you pissed off?”
Eyes burning with blue flame, he shot me a look over his shoulder. “I’m in control.”
So he was angry. “Is it because I’m asking all of this personal stuff?”
“No. I think he’s a goddamn fool.”
“Your dad?”
“Yes.” He twisted the water off. “It’s not something a man can control. He can try. I tried. But it still happened. It could for him, too. Then he’ll just end up hurting her.”
Hurt Erik’s mom, I realized. No wonder he was pissed if he was thinking about that. “You mean, if your dad met someone and the curse caught up to him?”
“Not someone else. It could be her. He can’t know.”
“She has witch’s blood, too?”
“No.”
“But…” Completely confused, I shook my head. Somehow I’d gotten all mixed up. First I’d believed the kiss had triggered the curse, then I’d been under the im
pression that having witch blood in me was the reason. But it had to be more complicated, I realized—because John Gulbrandr had met me and he wasn’t compelled to fuck me.
Thank God for that.
So what had triggered it? None of this seemed to make sense. John Gulbrandr had married Erik’s mother because she hadn’t triggered the curse, yet she still could in the future?
And given everything else Erik had told me, his anger didn’t make sense, either. “You said you were going to do the same thing: find a nice girl, woo her with food, then marry her for practical reasons.”
“I’m a fucking idiot, too.” He regarded me with a pale, brooding gaze. “What if I had? Then I meet you. And this still happens.”
Making a horrible situation even worse. Thanks to the curse, the men in his family had a few shitty choices and fewer good ones. I could be angry with John Gulbrandr for a lot of reasons, and I thought the way he’d chosen to marry was as cold as hell…but the alternative was never having a family or a son. I couldn’t blame him for wanting both.
I wouldn’t have blamed Erik, either. But he must not have been in a rush to marry, because he could have a long time ago. Yet he hadn’t.
Thank God for that, too.
“It would’ve been pretty terrible all around if you had a wife,” I agreed. “On the bright side, though—if the curse forced you to cheat on her, you wouldn’t have so much trouble finding someone to shoot you.”
Erik stared at me for a long second. He didn’t reply, but by the slow smile widening his mouth, I guessed that my response had broken through his anger. He gathered our plates from beside the grill.
“Do you mind eating here or do you prefer the dining table?”
“I’m comfortable here.” And not in a hurry to move.
He didn’t seem in a hurry to sit. After setting my steak in front of me, he placed his plate at the end of the island. Not pulling up his own barstool, but standing at the corner of the cabinet—facing me from about two feet away, with his fists shoved into his pockets.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get too comfortable,” he said softly. “Or too close.”
“So that when the Hound breaks in, you can save me?”
“Right,” he said—and, God, his grin just made me want to lick him all over. “You worked out a fix, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“You mention the Hound and I regain a little control. Just like saying a magic word.”
I hadn’t realized it affected his control; I’d only noticed that it redirected his focus away from fucking me and toward defending me.
But maybe that was essentially the same thing. “Will it help us through the solstice?”
“I don’t know. But it helps for now.”
So if he began to slip again, I had to tell him that the Hound was out there, hoping to get in and tear me apart. Until telling him didn’t work anymore.
I took a sip of water and his pale gaze fell to my glass. “Do you prefer wine?” he asked. “I have some red.”
“No. It might ruin my aim when the Hound comes for me.” When he laughed and his tension seemed to ease a little more, I said, “So after two more nights, this will all be over. Since you’re not at the firm anymore, what do you intend to do?”
His smile disappeared. “God, Olivia. You’re so damned—”
“Optimistic? Foolish? Pigheaded?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Incredible.”
I liked it when he gave in to the inevitable. We would get through this. I picked up my steak knife. “So what will you do?”
“Find work out of the country. Europe. Australia. I don’t know.”
My chest suddenly felt heavy, as if my lungs were lined with lead. Everything felt heavy and oddly detached. I watched my blade slice through the steak, but I wasn’t hungry anymore and I couldn’t make myself look up at him. “So far away?”
“It has to be far enough that I can’t get to you. I should have done it this year. Booked a flight and left, instead of thinking that not knowing where you were would be good enough.”
“You can’t fly out next year? A lot of people leave over the holidays.”
“I don’t want to take that risk. There are too many things that could go wrong. Weather. Some mechanical problem. If another Hound shows up and stops me from leaving.”
“Then give yourself more room for error. Or go back and forth over the equator every six months. Avoid the winter solstice entirely.”
“Others have tried that. But it hits them during the northern solstice even if it’s summer in the south. So it’s better just to go as far as I can and stay there.”
Or you could just stay here. But that wasn’t the choice he’d made. So I didn’t let myself say it and forced my way through chewing and swallowing. “And if the curse wasn’t a factor? What would you do?”
Erik didn’t immediately respond. The silence drew out, and I realized that he wasn’t pausing to finish a bite before speaking, as I’d assumed. Glancing up, I saw that he hadn’t even touched his plate. His fists were still balled in his pockets.
My gaze rose to his face. He was watching me, and the anguished longing in his gaze seemed to punch me in the throat.
“Erik?” I whispered.
As if the sound of my voice hurt him, he closed his eyes. His jaw clenched. Another long second passed before he said, “I’d start my own firm.”
He was answering my question, I realized. I’d almost forgotten that I’d asked him what he would do if the curse hadn’t erased so many of his choices.
“Your own firm? Not partnering with your dad again?”
“No. Maybe with…someone else.”
“Someone who isn’t such an asshole?” I asked, and he nodded, amusement briefly lightening his expression. “What else would you do?”
The bleakness returned. “The usual.”
The usual. Love. Kids and companionship.
My stomach tightened into a sick knot and I had to glance away from him. Suddenly, I understood what had put that anguished look on his face, and why he hadn’t been in a rush to marry. Erik might have told himself that he would find a wife for practical reasons…but that wasn’t what he’d wanted.
I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it before. But it was right here, all around me, staring me in the face. Ten years ago, he’d remade these rooms for a family. Why bother, unless some part of him had wanted the usual? That would have started with love. But with the threat of the curse hanging over him, he probably wouldn’t have risked falling in love, only to see it destroyed when he was forced to fuck another woman. And he wouldn’t make the same decisions that his father had. So he’d been left with a life that might have at least been satisfying, if not everything he’d dreamed. He could have built his own firm, had friends and success. But now the curse threatened to take the rest, too.
No life, no future.
Because he’d met me.
It wasn’t my fault. I knew it wasn’t. But knowing I’d been the catalyst tore me up. And while he watched his life fall apart, I’d been stuffing my face and staring at his ass.
I set my knife down. I couldn’t eat another bite—but Erik wasn’t eating, either.
I glanced at his plate, still untouched, then up to his face. My breath locked in my throat.
No more anguish. Just blazing need, with his pale blue gaze fixed on my lips.
Oh, God. I had to mention the Hound and help him regain control. But I didn’t want to. Instead I wanted Erik’s hands on my skin, his mouth on mine, and his cock deep inside me. I wanted him to fulfill the burning promise in his eyes.
I would just have to touch him. I’d just have to move closer, and the tenuous hold he had on himself would break, and I would know.
And I hated myself for even thinking it. If we were down to no other choice—sex or shooting him—that would have been different. But I did have a choice now, and taking advantage of the curse to get what I wanted would be unforgiv
able.
So I said the magic word. “Has your family ever tried to negotiate with the Hounds, to find a solution that stops people from dying on both sides?”
“A few times.” His focus didn’t shift away from my mouth. “My great-grandfather was friends with one—until that Hound was compelled to attack him.”
“Did your great-grandfather win?”
“Yes.”
“That must have been difficult, killing a friend.” Difficult killing anyone, even if they’d attacked first. “I don’t think the brothers are interested in a truce. That was pretty obvious from the second they destroyed my Jeep, then taunted us with my underwear.”
Now that one of the brothers was dead, I suspected there was no hope at all that this could be resolved—except with more death.
His gaze finally snapped up to meet mine. “We’re not sorry to destroy some of them.” It was a low growl. “I’ll get your panties back for you and rip off the Hound’s arms for touching them.”
“That’s okay.” I didn’t want them back. And I might have laughed, because it was absurd—going out to fight the Hounds for underwear—but tension wormed its way down the back of my neck and my heart began to pound.
Instincts? Or because his words reminded me of how violent and bloody his confrontation with the Hounds would be? Had already been. I wasn’t sure. But I couldn’t catch my breath. The t-shirt stretched across Erik’s broad chest seemed to be tighter now and the fists balled in his pockets didn’t conceal the thick ridge behind his zipper.
I’d said the magic words, I’d reminded him that the Hound was waiting out there, yet Erik wasn’t regaining control.
Like pale blue flames, his gaze returned to my mouth again. I couldn’t stop the response of my body to that look, the clenching need, the shiver over my skin that left my nipples tight and aching. Would it be now? Losing control, coming closer—taking me right here.
Oh, my God. How could this arouse me? Yet I could feel my flesh readying for him, the sudden ache and wet.
Maybe that was the witch’s blood, too. But maybe magic wasn’t the reason at all. Maybe it was just Erik—and me, because I’d wanted him for so long.
But right now, it was wrong. Not my response. Just the part of me that considered letting this go further when he had so little choice in the matter.
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