Cradling her in his arms, Lucien reveled in the sensation for a stolen moment. Then he cast a sleeping spell on her and felt her go under. After a moment, he forced himself to let her go and slipped out from under her body. She murmured, curled up on the couch asleep. He gazed down at her longingly, wishing he could stay. But Zander would stop at nothing to destroy her, a mere mortal who'd had the temerity to summon him. He needed to draw danger away from her tonight. After that, his one hope was to reverse the spell and put Zander back where he belonged: in the lamp, where he couldn't victimize others.
He blinked Chemise's clothes back onto her, shielding her from his hungry gaze. With a grumble of self-reproach, he dressed himself and bent to pick up his lamp from the floor. He couldn't walk about the city with the key to their survival in tow.
He carried the lamp to the open safe and thrust it inside, putting a blocking spell on the safe to prevent it from opening. The heavy metal casing would block its location. Was that where he'd languished all these years? Isis must have truly forgotten him. He pulled his mind off the imperious goddess and gazed back at Chemise, still dazzled by her tender and genuine reactions as he'd made love to her. He'd never experienced anything like it.
He gave his beloved one final, hungry glance before he strode from the shop. Her sleeping spell would be wearing off soon. He stepped out the door and almost collided with a tall, blond woman in a red dress. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she gazed from him to the closed sign.
"Where's Chemise?” she demanded.
"She's inside, waiting for you.” He walked away glad to know that Chemise had a champion. She'd lied about a man picking her up. It wouldn't be the first time a female had deceived him, but this time he was glad. Maybe she was trying to make him jealous. He couldn't help smiling at the thought.
* * * *
Chemise woke with a start, her heart racing, her body tender. She brushed a hand over her wrinkled dress. It'd only been a dream. Her shoulders sagged at the realization, but she couldn't help glancing around the vacant shop for Lucien. Of course he wasn't there; he wasn't real. With a disappointed sigh, she glanced toward the safe. It was closed and there was no lamp was in sight. Time to get back to grim reality.
"Chemise, are you okay?” Janelle called out from the front of the shop.
Chemise sat up, brushing the hair out of her eyes and straightening her clothes. Thank goodness Janelle hadn't walked in on ... what? A sex dream? She scrambled off the couch, trying to regain her composure. “Back here,” she called out, picking up on her friend's worried tone. “What's the matter?"
Janelle burst into the back room as fast as her high heels could take her. “Who was the hunk?"
"The hunk?” Chemise gulped as she stared at her drop-dead gorgeous friend. The museum's donations coordinator was as exquisitely dressed as usual, tonight in a red dress that showed off her model thin body. The concern in her friend's eyes was replaced with a twinkle as she took in Chemise's blush. Was her vivid imagination contagious?
"Yeah, hunk. Tall, dark, and handsome if you like them brooding."
That described Lucien to a T, but she wouldn't let herself go there. Chemise shook her head, avoiding Janelle's incisive gaze. She so didn't want to talk about her dream lover. Her body tingled at the thought: her private genie. “I wish,” she said, turning away to pick up her purse.
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Chapter 3
Chemise smiled warmly at her three friends and former co-workers as Janelle led her toward a back booth at Charlie's Bar. Amber, a flirtatious brunette, worked in the business office, and Miko, a petite Asian woman, was a conservator like Chemise had been. Except Miko was still working. Through the years, they'd all bonded over coffee breaks. The fact they'd stuck by her after she'd been fired meant a lot.
"Happy birthday,” they said in tandem, toasting her with chocolate martinis.
"Thanks.” She clicked glasses with them. “So, how are things going at the museum?” She wanted to get the awkward subject out of the way.
Miko shook her head. “Not good. The director's hired consultant hasn't been able to come up with an explanation for the..."
"Inferno,” Chemise cut in sourly.
"Accident,” Miko corrected while the others nodded.
It wasn't a vindication, but maybe it was the best she could expect. With the budget stretched tight, how hard would the board of directors look? They'd simply continue to lay the blame at her door and move on, especially if the museum's insurance paid up. She sighed, demoralized.
"Cheer up, girlfriend,” Amber said. “There's still a chance you'll be cleared and get your old job back. They haven't hired your replacement yet."
"And if they don't take you back, the hell with them,” Janelle cut in. “You've got other things to think about, like that hunk you were canoodling with."
Chemise swallowed a groan as the others’ eyes lit up with curiosity. They were constantly trying to fix her up, but there was no way they could matchmake with a mirage. “I told you there is no guy. It must have been a lost guy you bumped into."
"Too bad,” Janelle said with a sigh. “He was hot."
Chemise gave the matchmaking trio a firm gaze. She wasn't in the mood to be fixed up with their cast-off dates. “I'm not interested in dating right now."
"But it's your birthday,” Miko said.
Chemise got a very bad feeling. “You idiots didn't set me up with a blind date, did you?” Their guilty looks made her shoulders slump. After her hallucination, she wasn't in the mood to dance with some awkward stranger.
Miko shrugged. “We may have mentioned your party to a few eligible men."
"Oh lord,” Chemise murmured.
Amber sat up straighter and stared toward the bar. “Don't worry, Chemise, you won't lack for male companionship. Get a load of the stud, and the way he's staring at you. Seems like your birthday is looking up, girlfriend."
Lucien? Chemise's breath caught. After Janelle's assertion about the hunk leaving her shop, she was starting to believe it too. Her gaze snapped up to the bar. She let out a crestfallen sigh when she saw a strange man watching her. He was good-looking, with coal-black hair and intense icy gray eyes that seemed to focus on her, but he wasn't Lucien. “I'm not interested."
"Told you she wasn't up to this,” Janelle said quietly to Amber.
Chemise winced, feeling their sympathetic glances on her. If they thought she was fragile after being fired, they'd really think she was nuts for dreaming up Lucien. She took a calming breath. “I'm fine."
When the man started walking toward her, she bit back a groan, fighting the strangest urge to run. It was true ... she was cracking up. He looked perfectly nice in a remote, cool way, she told herself as he stopped in front of her.
He smiled. “Dance with me."
Put off by the seeming order, she frowned up at him. He was a jerk. She didn't take well to being ordered about, and this iceman was putting her back up. He seemed to realize it and he smiled, losing his stiff formality. She let out a sigh, realizing she'd overreacted. He wasn't such an ogre after all. If she danced with him, her friends would stop worrying. She smiled and took the hand he extended. “Love to."
"Good,” Miko said.
Amber nodded. “I'll say. Go get him, girl."
Chemise pasted on a smile and let her partner lead her out onto the dance floor. When he took her in his arms, she shivered as a chill went through her. Her heart raced, and she had to force herself to go through the motions of dancing. Still, she instinctively backed off, leaving plenty of space between them. It's only a delayed reaction to my hallucination bothering me. She gazed at his pleasant expression.
"You dance well,” he observed, whirling her across the dance floor.
"Um, so do you,” she replied, almost missing a step, which made her stumble and crash into him. “Sorry,” she murmured and tried to make space between them. His arm at the small of her back tightened, keeping her pinned to him. Then
she noticed he'd managed to dance her into a dark corner. It was as if the other dancers were separated by a force field.
Boy, her imagination was running wild: he was just an ordinary run-of-the-mill pervert. She stopped dancing and glared up at him, glad she was close enough to knee him in the groin if he tried anything. His pleasant expression turned cold.
"He must find your fierceness amusing,” he said, his probing gaze raking her body.
There was no he in her life unless he meant ... “He?"
"Lucien,” he bit out.
Her jaw dropped as fantasy and reality collided. It couldn't be ... she must still be dreaming. She pinched herself and felt pain. His frosty smile told her he knew what she was thinking. She cast a panicked glance back at her friends and bristled when they totally ignored her.
"Don't bother. They can't see or hear us."
He could only be one person. “Zander,” she whispered in disbelief as she tried to rack him. He thrust his leg between hers, preventing her move, and bent her arm back until she cried out.
"How nice, he told you my name,” Zander said. “Where is my slave? My lamp. My property."
She recoiled as he bit out each statement. “Lucien isn't your slave. I freed him."
He blanched for a minute, then smirked. “You stupid mortal bitch. You don't have the power or the authority."
"Who does, the bitch goddess you serve?” she snapped and watched his gloating smile falter. Was Lucien correct about Zander no longer having Isis’ protection? Her tingling senses alerted her to Lucien's presence, and a sense of relief made her stop struggling. Zander's eyes narrowed at he took in her change of attitude.
"What do you think you're about?” he demanded.
Lucien popped up on his left. His concerned glance focused on Chemise for a moment. He gave Chemise a glance of concern before Zander became aware of him. Zander let out a snarl as Lucien tore him away from Chemise.
Zander laughed and launched himself at Lucien, getting in a punch to his ribs. “You think you can protect her, fool?"
"He doesn't have Isis’ protection,” Chemise called out, and she saw Lucien smile. Zander turned to glare at her.
Lucien grunted and landed a solid punch on Zander's chin.
Reeling back, Zander glared at him, conjured a gun out of midair, and aimed it at Chemise.
Lucien stepped in front of her, blocking Zander's aim, and the Isis pendant appeared. Zander froze, his eyes narrowing. “Where did you get that?"
Lucien stood his ground. “Be gone before I use it to blast you into small pieces."
With a muttered oath, Zander disappeared into thin air.
Chemise watched him go, bemused. The most unbelievable things kept happening to her, and they were real. Trembling with shock, she locked her appreciative gaze with Lucien's. He was real, and he'd saved her.
"Are you all right?” he asked as he approached her.
She nodded and took in his masculine scent as he closed the gap between them. He looked like a warrior; a nerve pulsed in his jaw, and his mouth was a firm line. He was obviously feeling the same surge of adrenaline she did, but he was better at controlling it.
"I'm fine, thanks to you,” she responded, trying to be strong. She winced when she noticed the bleeding knuckles on his clenched fist. “You're hurt."
"It's nothing,” he said dismissively.
How could he be so blasé? “Like hell. You could have been killed."
Lucien shook his head and pulled her into his arms. “He'll only kill me as a last resort. He wants me back in the lamp so he can continue his attacks on humanity."
Chemise nestled in his embrace, feeling him stiffen when she hugged him. Had Zander broken his ribs? “Wait. So if you remain out of the lamp, there's a way you can send him back?"
"We don't have time to discuss it,” he said, taking Chemise by the arm and moving her toward the exit. “You were really worried about me,” he said softly.
"Of course I was,” she said. Still am. His surprise told her just how badly he'd been hurt over his years of captivity. “Obviously, being the object of concern is a new experience for you, but you'll just have to get used to it.” She watched his slow smile emerge.
"Hurry, we must leave."
She shivered, understanding the need to rush. But her friends would worry if she just disappeared. So she stopped in her tracks, halting their retreat. “I can't just leave. My friends will worry."
He sighed, his irritated gaze flicking over to Janelle. “Fine. Say your goodbyes."
So Janelle and Lucien met outside the shop. Chemise gave an apologetic smile and turned to rush over to the table with Lucien at her heels. Her friends’ admiring and curious glances at Lucien made her blush. She'd gone onto the dance floor with one man and come back with another. Such goings-on were so unlike her usual dull self. “I've got to leave, girls."
"I can see why,” Amber said, batting her eyes at Lucien.
"He's the one from the shop,” Janelle said.
"Excellent,” Miko said, her gaze running him up and down him. “He's worth hiding. I can see why you were keeping him a secret."
Chemise blushed. It was true—and she wasn't about to share him. “Bye,” she said, turning away.
"Have a happy birthday,” they called as Lucien took her arm and rushed her out of the building.
Out on the sidewalk, he turned to look at her. “Your conveyance. Where is it?"
"Um ... I rode over with Janelle. Sorry. We can call a cab."
"No time,” he said, pulling her toward the alley. Once there he swept her into his embrace. “Hang on to me, beloved, and don't let go."
He kept calling her that. It was an old-fashioned endearment, but she liked it. She clung to him, growing dizzy as the world spun away. Suddenly, they touched down, and she opened her eyes to see a strange room. The alabaster walls seemed to glow with an inner light. She looked around, fascinated. Silk wall hangings framed opulent furnishings and a large bed. It was like an Arabian Nights fantasy bedroom. Were they in the lamp?
"Where are we?"
"Some place safe."
She glanced over at him, hearing his confident tone. He was watching her like she was the most exotic thing in the room. His sultry smile made her blush, and a heat wave rushed through her. “Are you sure about that?” she asked to change the subject.
"For the moment, yes,” he said, stepping toward her.
Chemise instinctively backed away, feeling vulnerable. She'd had the courage to ravish him before. This time she'd play it cool; she'd be aloof, seductive, and exotic, not out of control. So why did she want to tear his clothes off and taste him?
"How can you be sure?” she shot back at him, watching the corners of his mouth kick up in a smile. He knew exactly how he was affecting her, damn it all.
"It's inside your safe."
His words confirmed her guess. “We're in your lamp."
He nodded.
"Can we get out again?” she asked, recalling that he'd been imprisoned.
"Yes. If I entrench myself here, I can come and go as I please. But if I'm trapped—that's a different story."
She wouldn't mind being trapped with him for, say, one hundred and one sexy nights. Her heated gaze moved from his captivating face to the bulging erection inside his pants. “But what about me?” she asked.
"As my guest..."
"Captive,” she corrected. His wicked smile made her heart trip and her sex grow creamy. Damn it all, there went her hard-to-get act.
"As my guest, I can pop you in and out at my will."
"Then you can pop me back to my place?” His hard smile told her it wasn't going to be that easy.
"I can, but I won't."
The disclosure made her shiver with delight. “Then I am your prisoner."
"Would you like to be?” he asked, intrigued.
It was too close to the truth for comfort, but she confessed. “Maybe."
"That's no answer."
His
bad boy smile was maddening and arousing; it made her want to tumble him onto the bed and have her way with him. Her body still tingled from their last coupling, and she wanted more. But tonight the equation had shifted: he was in charge. She bit her lip, trying to hide how vulnerable she was. “This place is like an Aladdin's treasure chest of goodies."
He looked around the plush surroundings and shrugged. “My mistress presented me with many gifts."
"Isis.” Her jaw tightened as she spoke her rival's name. Jealousy was petty and unbecoming, but she couldn't help it. She must be dull compared to a goddess, but there was no way she wanted to share her man with that bitch.
He shrugged. “At one time she teased me with promises of freedom. She taught me that women lie.” He came up behind her, bending to nibble the nape of her neck.
"I don't,” she said with a gasp; she leaned into him, her body on fire.
"You already did. You told me a beau was picking you up."
Her knees wobbled as he nipped her earlobe. “Sorry about that. It was a white lie. I wanted to make you jealous."
"You did,” he said, his hands cupping her breasts as his fingertips fanned her nipples.
Whimpering, she thrust her bosom more firmly into his talented hands. “Really?” she questioned, astounded.
"Yes, really,” he assured her with a chuckle.
Emboldened, she asked, “Would you like to carry on where we left off, Lucien?"
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Chapter 4
"Do you mean you're going to attack me again?” he asked, teasing her.
"I didn't exactly attack you.” Her face heated even as she pressed her ass against the tempting bulge of his cock.
"Near enough. Don't worry, I'm used to it."
"I'm not Isis,” she said, offended that he would make the comparison.
"Well, I know it. You're more passionate and tender."
She melted at his words. “Thank you. But I think I'd rather be attacked.” She moaned as he pinched her nipples. “Oh yeah, that's it."
"Do you know what you're asking?"
A Torrid Celebration! Page 14