Taylor lifted his hands, framing the perfect oval of her face, excruciatingly aware of the velvet of her flesh beneath his fingers. “And did you, my magical lady who lives in her fairy-tale world?”
Her breath caught in her throat as he tipped her head up to meet his descending mouth. Katie anxiously examined his intent gray eyes, trying to ferret out the reason he wanted to kiss her. She ached to touch Taylor’s sensual mouth, the mouth that so often drew in at the corners in pain. She longed to smooth those corners with her own lips and see him smile. What she saw in his hooded eyes made her blood turn to liquid fire while her lashes swept downward against her cheeks. His mouth barely brushed against hers, robbing her of all thought. Fingers tightening in demand, he drew her against his hard body. Her flesh tingled wildly as she felt his arousal. His mouth caressed her lips gently with small kisses meant to encourage her participation and not to frighten her. A moan of pleasure echoed in her throat as he traced her parting lips with his tongue, sending rivers of molten desire flowing hotly through her trembling form. “Katie,” he groaned thickly, “open your mouth. Let me taste you….”
Mindlessly, she allowed his tongue entrance, her mind exploding into a shattering state of pure pleasure that buckled her knees. She sagged against him, arms sliding upward, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt across his broad chest.
And he was there, cradling her within the protection of his arms. Gradually, he broke the spell of the kiss, his face inches from hers. Taylor stared darkly down at her, mesmerized by the joy he saw in her vulnerable face. Her lips were glistening and pouty from his kiss, open with invitation. He could feel the hardness of her nipples pressed against his chest, the fluttering of her heart against the heavier beat of his own. No woman had drugged him into euphoria before. She was so small against him, so breakable, and yet she trusted him completely. The kiss had shaken him deeply, and Taylor gently pushed her away from him, seeing the confusion in her eyes.
“I think we’d better get you home,” he heard himself say, his voice strained.
“All right….”
Taylor took a deep breath, gradually allowing her to stand on her own. She seemed to sway slightly. “Katie?”
A slight smile curved her lips. “I’ll be okay in a moment.”
He stood, protecting her in the circle of his arms while she reoriented herself. The dazed look in her eyes stunned him. “I didn’t realize I had such an effect on women.”
“Oh,” she whispered breathlessly, “you do.”
His heart warmed to her honesty. He reached down, brushing her fiery cheek with the back of his hand. “Are you always so easily swept off your feet, sweetheart?” He was afraid to hear her answer.
“No,” Katie said.
Taylor laughed deeply, feeling a warm burst of pleasure. “Come on, you must be cold.” He placed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her against him as they walked to ward the car in the distance. “When I kissed you, it was as if it was your first time,” he murmured more to himself than to her.
“I’ve never been kissed like that,” Katie admitted huskily.
His spirits rose a notch further. “If any other woman said that, I’d doubt her. But not you.” He smiled down at Katie. Her face was still filled with wonder. “I can see every one of your emotions. Did you know that? Your eyes are like cobalt mirrors. I can see in them exactly how you feel.” Vividly he remembered the soft warmth of her mouth, hungrily matching his demanding kiss, sending a column of fire racing through him. No, she wasn’t a hothouse orchid. She was a lovely meadow violet—strong yet beautiful.
“You can?”
Taylor halted at the car, opening the door for her. “Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Nothing wrong with that. I like it.”
She lifted her chin, staring deeply into his charcoal-gray eyes, silvered with simmering desire. “I’m glad. Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “No. Why?”
She reached out, barely grazing the corner of his mouth with her slender fingers. “Because you’re smiling. At last.”
Chapter 5
Katie’s sense of logic clashed with her emotions, each vying for supremacy as Taylor drove her back to her apartment above the bookstore. The look of tenderness on his face when she told him he was smiling had made her heart somersault with exquisite warmth. But another part of her whispered, He doesn’t understand you. We’re opposites. He knows nothing of what I believe in or what I do. Could he ever truly accept me? Despair washed over her at this point, and Katie chewed on her lip, staring sightlessly out the window. Taylor’s world was one of harsh reality. Anything that couldn’t be weighed, measured, seen with his own eyes did not exist. And yet, here they were, drawn to each other like iron chips to a magnet, these polar opposites.
Yet the part of him that attracted her was the part he so jealously hid from the world. Clearly Taylor had been badly hurt. He must have been, to be so unwilling to reveal his vast emotional reservoir. He had shared parts of it with her, only because she had remained vulnerable to him. Rubbing her head, willing away a burgeoning ache, Katie realized she didn’t quite understand this new—and fragile—relationship.
Taylor glanced covertly at Katie. Her face was pensive, deep with thought. As he pulled into the parking lot behind the bookstore, he automatically scanned the shadowed recesses of the building, the spots that weren’t illuminated by the streetlights.
“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
They fell into step as they crossed the asphalt parking lot and walked into the shadows of the three-story brick building. Taylor waited patiently while she rummaged through every compartment of her purse in search of her key. A smile lingered on his mouth as he leaned against the doorjamb, watching her.
“Do you always have problems finding your keys?” he teased.
Frustration showed in the taut corners of Katie’s mouth. “Oh, all the time! Maud says I should sew a key ring onto my purse. But somehow I haven’t been willing to take such drastic action.”
Taylor laughed softly. He reached out to run his hand lightly over her glorious ebony hair. It was soft, curly silk as he sifted it through his fingers. “You drop things, lose them and bump into desks. You’re a catastrophe just waiting to happen, Katie Riordan.”
“And I’ve got the bruises to prove it,” she muttered, thrilled by his caress. Finally, she found the keys, pulling them triumphantly from her purse. “There. Success!”
Taylor glanced at his watch. “Two minutes and forty-five seconds. Not bad,” he drawled.
“Now, don’t you start timing me. I’ll be a nervous wreck, always trying to break my own record.” She laughed, turning the key in the lock. Then she met his gaze and melted beneath it. Taylor’s face consisted of planes of darkness and light. Good and bad. Strong and weak. He mirrored for her in those poignant seconds what she had learned about herself over the years. No one was ever completely good or bad. And in Taylor’s case, her heart whispered, he wasn’t as hard-nosed as he appeared on the surface—or he wouldn’t have been drawn to her openness in the first place.
“Listen,” Taylor murmured huskily, breaking into her spinning thoughts, “I want you to be careful, Katie.”
Her eyes widened momentarily as she caught the carefully veiled inflection in his low voice. Searching his face, she saw worry in his eyes. “Careful? Why, Taylor? I don’t understand.”
He grimaced, motioning to the shadowy darkness that surrounded them. “This is very poorly lit. Someone could jump you.” He scowled. “How many threatening phone calls did you receive today?”
She shrugged. “A few.”
“Katie….”
“All right, four.”
“Same person or different ones?”
“I—I think it was the same man each time.”
“That one who said he’d burn down your store?”
She nodded, chewing on her lower lip, touched by his concern. “I’m sure
he’s just some crackpot, Taylor. I’ll be okay. The crime rate in Rio Conchos is very low, let me assure you. Even for a town of fifty thousand.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, dissatisfied with her answer. “Now you listen carefully to me. I’ve spent seven years working with one of the best police departments in America. I’ve seen all kinds of crime, Katie, so take it from me. You can’t just shrug off anonymous phone calls and insist that they’re meaningless. I think you should call the police and—”
“Taylor, I told you I’ll deal with the threat in my own way. Trust me, please.”
A glance at that ethereal face of hers failed to ease his mind. “How are you going to protect yourself, Katie? Pretend you didn’t hear the caller’s threats?” Frustration made his voice sound harsh.
“No. I have other ways to protect myself, Taylor,” she insisted stubbornly.
“Not when I’m responsible for this whole mess.”
“Please, let’s not argue,” she pleaded softly. Reaching out, Katie touched his arm, marveling at the steel-corded strength of his muscles. “We’ve had a wonderful two hours. Let’s not spoil it by bickering.”
He swallowed his building anger—and his fear. “Promise me one thing, Katie.”
“Okay.”
Taylor sighed impatiently. It was typical of Katie to agree before finding out what she was agreeing to. “If you get any more of those calls, I want you to call and tell me.”
“All right, I will.”
Taylor glanced up at the old brick building, realizing it must be close to a hundred years old. Probably a historical landmark of some kind. The mortar between the bricks had crumbled away in patches. Just how safe was is the place? he wondered. He was sure it didn’t meet the fire safety standards. He made a mental note to check all the records on the building tomorrow morning. Fear ate away at him when he realized there was no fire escape. If Katie was caught in her second-floor apartment, she would be trapped.
He placed his hands on her small shoulders, worry registering in his expression as he gazed down at her. At the moment, Katie appeared small and helpless. But he knew better; she had spunk, and the fervor of her personal beliefs gave her amazing strength—and stubbornness, he reminded himself sourly. “Just be careful,” he said gruffly. “I don’t want to lose you. Not so soon after I’ve found you.” She colored beneath his hungry look. “I’ll be fine!” And then she sobered, stretching up on tiptoe. She rested her hands lightly on his chest and placed a kiss on his mouth.
“Good night, Taylor. And thank you for a lovely evening.” Reluctantly he released her. “Sure, after I’ve spoiled the day for you.”
“You’ve apologized. I don’t need more than that.”
His smile was grudging. “Somehow, apologizing didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Good night, Katie.
Dream of us….”
Katie lay awake for a long time. “Dream of us,” Taylor had whispered. And every time she heard those words in the halls of her mind, her heart thudded intensifying the avalanche of emotions he had freed within her. In just that one soul-shattering kiss! Why was she so attracted to Taylor? He was a stranger to her; he knew so little of the real Katie Riordan. Worry threaded through the tumult of feelings. Turning on her side, Katie pulled the pale pink sheet over her shoulders and shut her eyes. Almost instantly, she slid over the abyss into sleep, into her own vivid world of nightly dreams where she loved to play. Only this time, her dark knight, Taylor Grant, was there at her side, laughing, smiling, loving her tenderly….
Katie’s eyes widened as she unlocked the Unicorn Bookstore at ten o’clock the next morning. A horde of people bearing photographic equipment and television apparatus descended on her. Stunned, Katie was surrounded immediately. She had been awakened at five when the”phone began to dance off the hook. Apparently that had been only the beginning! Helplessly Katie looked up into the predatory faces of the men and women who were pushing and shoving to get closer to her. Panic set in, and she backed into a wall of books. Cameras flashed; the blinding light of several television cameras made her squint. Finally, she held up a hand to protect herself from the onslaught. Only one shred of coherent thought screamed through her stunned mind: Taylor! She had to reach Taylor. He would help her….
The phone rang shrilly, and Taylor glared at it. If he got one more phone call, he might just rip the cord out of the jack. He’d come to the office early—at seven—only to face a barrage of calls from reporters and newspaper editors from across the United States. Despite the cynical tone of his article, millions of readers were interested in Katie Riordan’s miraculous ability….
“Hello,” he snarled.
“Taylor?”
“Katie? What’s wrong? What is it, sweetheart?” He straightened up in the chair, hearing the panic in her voice.
“It’s awful, Taylor! There must be thirty reporters and four television news teams here in the bookstore. Please, I need your help. I don’t want to answer their questions! I don’t want the notoriety. Please, come over. I need you.”
His gray eyes narrowed. “I’ll be right there, princess. Just keep saying ‘no comment’ until I arrive. Do you understand me?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Please hurry. I feel like some kind of specimen being torn apart….”
As Taylor came through the door or the Unicorn, his eyes fell on an anguished Katie. She was surrounded by aggressive reporters. Swearing under his breath, he made his way through the mass of journalists until he stood before her. They had backed her up against the desk. Her knuckles were white with tension as she gripped the edge of it. Her eyes were wide with confusion and blurred with unshed tears. He glared at the assembled reporters as his arm went around her shoulder to protect her. More cameras flashed. Video cameras whirred to life. And Taylor felt an anger more chilling than any he could recall. Katie glanced up at him.
“They won’t listen to me, Taylor.”
His hand tightened on her shoulder momentarily. “I will. What do you want me to do about this?”
“Just tell them to go away. I—I don’t want to grant any interviews.” Her voice was low and strained, and he could tell she was fighting to keep herself from crying in front of them.
“All of you,” he roared above the chaos, “put down your cameras and turn off those damn videos. And give us some breathing room.” His voice was deep with authority. Taylor divided his attention between the sullen news reporters and Katie.
“Hey! I’m from the National Eagle. I’ve been given the authority to offer Ms. Riordan ten thousand dollars for an exclusive on her story.”
A tall red-haired woman elbowed her way to the front of the crowd. She glared at the reporter from the Eagle. “That smear sheet!” she snarled. Turning to Taylor, she shouted above the din, “I’m Louella Sharp from the Daily World internet news website, and I’ll give Ms. Riordan twelve thousand for an exclusive on her magic touch!”
A third reporter shouted. “Fifteen thousand! I’m from the—”
“There will be no interviews,” Grant said evenly, enunciating each word carefully. “You came stampeding in here like a herd of buffalo, and now you can stampede right back out.”
“What’s an exclusive, Taylor? Why are they offering me so much money?” Katie asked.
He gave her a surprised look, then shook his head. “They want to buy your exclusive story, Katie. If you take one of their offers, you’ll be expected to tell everything to one paper. No one else gets an interview.”
Katie stared at the wall of journalists and trembled. In misery, she lifted her chin. “Mr. Grant has the exclusive rights to my story,” she said in firm, clear tones.
“I won’t grant an interview to anyone else.”
“But, Ms. Riordan!” a television newsman protested, stalking forward with his cameraman, “you’re an overnight sensation! Are you a witch? What are these powers you possess? The American public has a right to know!” He thrust the microphone into her face. Taylor promptly
shoved it back at the reporter’s chest.
“Ms. Riordan has a right to her privacy,” he snarled, “Now, get your camera out of here before—”
“Please,” Katie begged, “no fighting!” She looked over at the crestfallen reporter. “Mr. Grant has an exclusive. I won’t talk to the rest of you. Please, just—”
“But surely you owe us—”
“She owes you nothing,” Grant shouted. “Now get out of here before I have the police remove you bodily from the premises.”
Katie hung her head, unable to take the collective glares and mutterings of the disappointed press. Taylor stood beside her, discouraging them from coming closer. He kept a hand on her shoulder, gently massaging, trying to make her relax as the reporters grudgingly turned and left the store.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I should have realized when the story went to the syndicate that half the world would be at your doorstep the next morning.” Damn, I should have thought about that and warned you.”
Katie raised her head, dashing away two tears that were threatening to fall. “It’s all right. I started getting phone calls at five this morning. And when I opened the bookstore at ten they came inside in waves.” She wrapped her arms round herself, trembling. “They were like jackals, Taylor.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me, Katie. Did you mean it when you said you were giving me an exclusive?”
She gazed up into his craggy face. “Is that what you want?” Her voice was quiet and searching in tone.
Cursing softly, Taylor rested his hands on her shoulders. “No, dammit! But you had to tell them something or they would have dogged your heels until you finally gave in and talked to them. So it was a smart thing to do—but did you mean it?”
She rubbed her eyes briefly. “Of course.”
Taylor shook his head. “Look, I’ve done enough damage to you already, Katie. I wouldn’t deliberately do it again. I’ll be honored to take the exclusive on you. Like everybody else, I make mistakes, but I try not to repeat them.”
A Chance Encounter Page 6