Behind her, she heard a soft whine. Zeb had woken from his nap. She whistled to him and heard the clack of his nails on the floor as he padded up to her. Stroking his head, she said in a thick voice, “I’m pitiful, you know that? I talk to you, and to a mirror, more than I do to people.”
Chapter Five
Kat squared her shoulders as she stood in front of the door. Damn it. She could do this. Mara was waiting downstairs. Zeb stood patiently at her side, waiting for her to make a decision.
You’re being a coward.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, she grabbed the handle and stepped outside the door. Panic struck her in the chest like a fist. Zeb’s furred warmth was a steady presence at her side, and as she closed the door, she buried her fingers in the short, thick fur just above his harness. “I can do this,” she whispered. “I can.”
A quiet voice from across the hall said, “I imagine you can do almost anything you want.”
Her face flushed as she realized she had an audience. Zeb hadn’t warned her—but she imagined the dog had been trying not to rattle her already frazzled nerves. Since Zeb didn’t consider Tam a threat, she guessed the canine had concentrated on just helping her through the door.
She forced a tight, shaky smile and said, “I-I guess I was talking to myself, wasn’t I?”
His chuckle ran over her skin like a warm hand. “A little. Are you feeling well? You seem a little distressed.”
Distressed… What an old-fashioned sounding word. And how accurate. The flush that burned her cheeks deepened and she wished she could just disappear into the floor. I’m scared to walk outside my house… The bad thing was, a lot of people could probably understand that.
But she couldn’t live with it. This fear ate at her, shamed her, depressed her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to still the internal tremors that had her belly tied up in knots. “I’m going downstairs,” she said slowly.
“Where’s Mara?” he asked, his voice neutral.
Kat smirked, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her as she brushed her hair out of her face. “Waiting for me…downstairs.” Tears burned her eyes and she turned away, lifting her face skyward.
“I have the feeling that’s where you wanted her to wait.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re right. I did ask her to wait there. You know, it’s exactly fifteen steps to the elevator. Two steps to get inside. I turn around and the buttons are on my right, in Braille. There is no reason I can’t walk to that elevator and go downstairs by myself. Zeb’s with me. This is a very safe, secure place to live. So why am I terrified?”
A warm hand cupped the back of her neck and suddenly, her fear faded away, replaced by a heat that warmed her very soul as he bent low and whispered, “I wouldn’t even be able to work up the nerve to try.”
His hand fell away but her skin still buzzed from his touch. Slowly, she forced herself to breathe again. Feeling his warm gaze on her, she gripped Zeb’s harness. Took one step.
Then another. Behind her, she heard the steady fall of his steps as he followed her, and a tremulous smile curved her lips. Four steps, three…two… Taking a deep breath, she stopped and swept out her cane, hearing the little thud as it hit the door. Lifting her hand, she reached out. A wide grin spread across her face as she felt the cool metal of the doors.
Turning her head, she flashed him a brilliant smile. “Who knew a walk down a hall could be so exhilarating?” she said, feeling a little sheepish but completely overjoyed.
“Freedom is very exhilarating, I’d imagine,” Tam said. His voice sounded just a little bitter and she wondered at it. “You amaze me. I wouldn’t have the courage to even want to try, Kat.”
* * * * *
Tam heard the knock at the door but he already knew who it was. He was so acutely tuned to Kat—he could place sounds to actions, even behind the door and walls of her condo. The water would run in the morning for about twenty minutes as she showered—the woman loved her showers. Music would turn on at about 9 a.m. and then he would hear a faint electronic hum as she booted up her computer.
She’d be on for about twenty minutes and then the computer would shut down and she’d go to work. The dual ring of the telephone signaled she was working, and it would sound sporadically for seven hours. Then she was done, and he’d hear the sounds of her fixing supper, the hum of the radio, then silence as she settled down for the night.
As he heard her door open that morning, he looked up from the book he was trying to concentrate on, feeling the blood inside his body heat. Rising, he crossed to the door and opened it just as she was getting ready to knock. He watched as her hand fell limply to her side, a startled smile on her face.
“You look lovely as always, Kat,” he said, forcing his eyes to remain on her face, away from the smooth expanse of skin bared by the scoop neck of her sweater. It fell beguilingly off one shoulder as she shifted from one foot to the other. Zeb wagged his tail at Tam before leaning against his mistress’s leg.
Her cheeks flushed a soft pink and she smiled nervously. “Thank you.” The tip of her tongue appeared and Tam had to force himself not to groan. He wanted to taste that mouth. So badly.
That endearingly nervous grin of hers appeared as she stroked her hair back from her face. “I was wondering… Have you had lunch yet?”
Eyes narrowing on her face, he replied, “No. No, I haven’t. I’m starving, too.” Well, not for food, he added silently. But he suspected if he told her that, she’d be even more terrified than she already was.
“I wanted to go to the Italian place down on the parkway. Don’t suppose you’d like to go, would you?”
“I’d love to.”
Over the pungent scents of garlic and tomato, he could smell the intoxicating scent of her skin. The music of her laughter died from the air but her pretty, rosebud lips were still curved in amusement.
“Do they always do that?” he asked as the embarrassed waiter quickly retreated.
The smile on her lips faded away, replaced by a pensive look as she shrugged. The mellow ivory of her shoulder caught his eye—his mouth all but watered with the need to bend over and run his tongue over that smooth flesh. As that shoulder shifted in a shrug, he forced his eyes to her face.
In her hands, she held a cup of steaming coffee. The waiter had offered her a straw. Tam had dryly stated, “She doesn’t need to see to be able to remember where her mouth is.” That was what had her giggling. He’d wished he hadn’t said anything after the waiter walked away, his cheeks a painful red. Instead of the laughter in her eyes, she looked thoughtful.
“People don’t understand anybody who is different from them, Tam. And not understanding makes them do or say stupid things,” she finally told him. A grin tugged at her lips and she said, “One lady—somebody I knew years ago—asked if I’d be moving into a…facility. Like a nursing home. That made me laugh. Some people let it get to them too much. But it’s not prejudice, not really. It’s just stupidity.”
“People are frequently stupid,” he mused. He’d seen a great deal of stupidity in his life. More than Kat could ever imagine. Her wisdom, though, awed him. Very few people could have accepted that kind of change in their lives, dealt with the tragedies and gone on to forge a new one, all with very little bitterness.
“Aren’t they?” she said, her tone thoughtful. “I hope they have the good fortune to stay that way. The only way they could understand a lot of their foolishness is to actually go through something that opens their eyes. After all, ignorance can be bliss.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. But before he could try to fill the silence, she sat back in her chair, one hand in her lap. From the slight motions of her arm, he suspected Zeb had his head in her lap and he was being stroked with slow, gentle strokes of her hand. A twinge of jealousy jolted through him and he scowled. Jealous of a damned dog.
“Zeb’s been acting like a puppy,” she said quietly. “He loves people, loves going outside. He eve
n sees me near the door and I can almost hear his ears perk up.”
“Maybe you should take him out for a walk every day. I’d love to go with you,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. Maybe get inside her apartment…see that mirror…he still wasn’t any closer to it. How could he convince her to give it to him when he couldn’t even seem to approach the subject?
How could he tell her the truth? But could he lie and try to trick her into giving it to him?
Frustration ran through him. If ever a mortal woman would be willing to give up a wish, a chance of a lifetime, it would be her.
He should just get on with it. Risk her thinking he was a lunatic when he tried to explain. Or come up with some plausible story that would convince her to turn it over to him.
There isn’t one… He rolled his eyes heavenward as he thought about that. There was no lie he could tell her that she would believe. And the truth…well, she’d be certain he was nuts.
But oddly, as she smiled, her eyes sparkling, he found he really didn’t care all that much. After all, if she did give him that mirror, then he was gone. Out of her life.
And that idea settled in his gut like a lead weight.
* * * * *
Nearly a month later, Tam stood watching her as she gazed into the mirror, her eyes seeking, sightless. Those dark gray eyes were haunting his sleep. Everything about her haunted him—her eyes, the shining red swing of her hair, the curve of her hip, the scent of her body.
He wanted her—so badly that he ached with it.
She wanted him as well. He could see it in the gentle coloring of her cheeks when they met in the hall for their walks. When she stepped aside to let him into her condo, he could hear the rapid beat of her heart. Nervous lust glittered in the air around her—yet she never did anything.
Those long walks they took several times a week had definitely let him get closer to her. But he hadn’t done a damn thing about the mirror. Other than hover inside its unseen depths and stare at her, brooding.
This had turned into a mess.
He should have just shared the mirror’s secrets, let her take her wish and get on with what passed for his life.
Now he couldn’t stop thinking of her.
A muscle ticced in his jaw as he watched her from the surface of the mirror, scowling. Those eyes, those warm gray eyes, saw nothing. That long sleek body, the sadness inside her, everything about her called to him. His body went hard as iron every time he thought of her. Which was all the damned time.
He couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Or the sound of her voice. The soft vanilla and lavender scent of her skin.
And the sadness in her face.
The delightful curve of her ass, the long line of her legs…the music of her laugh. Everything.
Damn it, he had come here to get that mirror and here it was nearly a month later and he was no closer. The bad thing was, he had never really tried.
Every night, she would pause in front of the mirror, touch it with her hand, murmuring to herself. Her words haunted him. The first time, she had whispered, I’m losing myself here.
Tam wanted to cuddle her close, kiss that sad look from her face, and stroke her slender body until she arched in his hands like a kitten. Hold her close, for always.
And that was why he hadn’t done anything about the mirror. If by some chance she gave it to him, he’d have no reason to stay. Tam was fast approaching the point where he would give damn near anything to stay with her. Always.
And if she used her wish… The mirror would be passed on, and he’d be out of her life.
For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t want to get away from the woman who held his future in her hands. Tam wanted to be closer—desperately wanted to be closer.
He hated himself. He wanted to stay with her. Wanted to see the dawn break on her face as he watched her sleep. Wanted to love that sweet body until she screamed out his name.
But he had the ability to take away some of the pain he saw in her eyes.
He could take away her blindness—take it from her with a simple kiss—if she would just use her wish.
Part of him kept whispering…tell her…let her use her wish… He’d never seen a woman more deserving of the happiness his magick could give her. But she knew nothing about it.
And for fear of never seeing her again, he said nothing.
Chapter Six
When Tam’s voice drifted through the door, Kat depressed the buzzer, hoping the hot pleasure she felt inside wasn’t that noticeable as she told him to give her a minute. Last night had been her turn at the nightshift and she’d just woken up a few hours ago.
Haunted by dark dreams, her sleep had been restless.
A woman who called herself Maxie had called during her shift. Her story had broken Kat’s heart—escaping an abusive father, marrying a man she had thought was perfect for her. But then she’d started having nightmares, nightmares that kept her awake, interfered with her life, with everything. Maxie had never told her husband about the abuse she’d suffered at her father’s hands—until a few weeks ago. She had confided in him, told him about what had happened to her.
He should have been there for her. But instead, a week later, he’d filed for divorce. He hadn’t wanted to be involved with a woman whose father had raped her. Hadn’t wanted that kind of sickness in any family he might raise.
Now Maxie was caught in a morass of depression so deep that the only way she saw to escape it was suicide.
Kat hoped she’d gotten through to her.
And she hoped that bastard who had called himself her husband developed a severe problem with impotence. Jackass.
Shoving the case out of her mind, she tried to focus on a book, on music…on anything. She’d thought about going back to bed, to maybe have some sweet dreams, not awful ones.
Kat would much rather get back to her normal dreams. Those hot, vivid dreams where she could see, where she was wrapped around Tam, and could stare up into his face and see the beauty of it. Stare at him while he sank deep inside of her.
She was glad she hadn’t lain down for a nap, though. Between dreaming about him, and being with him, there was no competition.
Damn it, she wanted him. Her instincts murmured that he wanted her but fear kept her from doing anything about it.
Even when she had been whole, she had been hesitant to make a move on a man. But not seeing him… That was harder. Harder to tell if the tension in the air came from lust, or just discomfort. Or maybe the tension was only in her mind, and he felt nothing.
She moved through the condo as swiftly as she could, reaching in the closet, seeking a pair of jeans and a sweater. After she dressed, she splashed her face with cold water and brushed her hair. Palms damp, she moved back to the door and opened it, resting one hand on Zeb’s head as Tam came inside.
“You look a little sleepy,” Tam murmured as he closed the door behind him.
She arched a brow at him, grinning. “That’s always a nice way of telling somebody that they look like crap,” she said, running a hand through her hair nervously. With a wry laugh, she added, “I have a hard time telling.”
She was learning to joke about it. This was a fact of life. This was her. Something about Tam’s simple acceptance of it was shifting her view of herself. How knowing a man only a month could make such a change, she didn’t know.
Tam came by every few days and managed, at least once a week, to urge her into going out with him. Lunch, dinner, even breakfast once. And shopping. She had gone shopping for the first time in a very long while. He was funny, with a quirky sense of humor much like her own.
And he didn’t seem to care that she was blind. Even if they were just friends, that mattered to her.
She’d lost a lot of friends when she’d lost her eyesight. People didn’t know how to deal with her, so they just faded away—never calling anymore, never coming over. Cutting her out of their lives.
But Tam didn’t make her fe
el less because she couldn’t see.
With him, she actually felt more.
“Now I didn’t say that,” he murmured, drawing her attention from her random thoughts, back to him. “If I thought you looked a mess, I just wouldn’t have said anything.”
His voice was closer…he was closer. Through her clothing, she could feel a radiant heat, and his breath caressed her face even before he reached out to touch her, lifting her chin in his hand. “I said you looked sleepy…like a tired little kitten. I’ve always had a weakness for kittens.”
Fire jumped into her belly at that odd note in his voice—deep, intense, a throbbing edge of hunger. As his hand cupped her chin, Kat traced her lips with her tongue, skin prickling at the sudden onslaught of tension in the air.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted to for a while and I can’t keep ignoring it.”
Any answer Kat might have formed faded away as she felt his warm, calloused hands frame her face, and then the hot silk of his tongue stroking against the seam of her lips. Her mouth opened and she shivered as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, his hands sliding down, one cupping her neck, one going down to grip her hip and pull her pelvis snug against his.
It felt like a jolt of lightning had exploded inside her gut as the hard ridge of his cock throbbed against her belly. Whimpering low in her throat, she rose onto her toes, wrapping her arms around him, feeling her breasts press flat against his chest.
He growled. That hot, primitive sound sent shivers down her spine. Her nipples, naked under the thick material of her chenille sweater, tightened into painful little nubs, and hot cream gathered in her pussy.
Fire sang in her blood as his hands raced over her greedily. His mouth left hers, kissing a hot path from her mouth down her chin, up the line of her jaw to press a stinging, biting kiss against her nape.
Kat moaned, a low, needy sound as his hands slid under the hem of her sweater, pressing against the smooth flesh of her sides. Oh, damn…how was this happening?
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