Spine stiff, she walked into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove. She thought about Trent sleeping in her guest room and shook her head. How did this happen? And how was she going to get through the next few days with him here?
Once the water boiled, she filled the porcelain teapot and took it into the living room to watch Aimee and her friend, Hanna, from next door play with the puppy. She settled on the love seat, and poured herself a cup of hot tea from her mother’s tea set. It was a self-indulgence she loved, and a comfort she fell back on in times of stress.
But nothing could soothe her nerves right then. Usually when she sipped orange spice tea from the dainty cup while watching her child play, she could almost convince herself that their lives were normal. Happy. Fulfilled.
That they weren’t alone.
Almost.
“Hey,” Trent said as he walked into the room and slipped into one of the chairs next to her.
No, definitely not alone, though right then she wished she were.
He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the worn knees of his jeans. He looked relaxed, but she could tell by the tightness in his jaw that he was primed and ready for action. And it scared her.
“I know this is all very difficult. And again, I’m sorry.”
For breaking my heart into a million pieces and running away? Or for coming back and turning my world upside down? “You keep saying that.”
He smiled, and the sight of it tweaked her heart. “I know.”
She held his gaze with her own, one eyebrow raised…waiting.
“The last time I was here—”
Sera closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to think about the last time he was here, the things he’d said, or the way he’d left her.
“When you told me about the baby, I knew she’d be special, that she’d need extra protection. I wanted to be able to do that.”
There he went again, talking about Aimee being different. “But you didn’t. You left. You weren’t here. Okay. There’s no going back and changing that. I don’t want to talk about this.”
“We need to talk about it. About us.”
She set down her tea and stood. “There isn’t any us.”
He stood, too, effectively blocking her escape. “Isn’t there?”
“Not anymore.”
He placed his hands on her arms and held her. His warmth seeped into her skin, bathing her in a wash of calm. In fact, that seemed to happen each time he touched her. She tried to pull back, to break free, but his grip tightened.
“I should have come back sooner. I know that.”
He was so close she could smell his warm breath fanning her face. Her knees weakened. He raised one hand and grazed the pad of his thumb gently across her cheek. Even though his touch was warm and gentle, a shiver moved through her. Of fear? Desire? Trepidation? She wished she knew, but her emotions were a tangled mess.
“It’s been eight years,” he whispered, the low timbre of his voice caressing her nerves. Her anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling of trust.
He was doing this to her. Somehow he was twisting her emotions, turning her inside out.
“Eight years and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you out here in this bayou all by yourself.” He moved closer.
Her breath caught in her throat as heat flooded through her. “I’m not by myself,” she protested, suddenly panicked. “I have Aimee. We don’t need you. We don’t want you.”
She pulled free, then looked up at him, wide-eyed as the false sense of security fell away and her anxiety returned full force. “What have you been doing to me?”
He took a step back and cocked his head to the side, his forehead wrinkling with confusion.
“Can you affect my feelings?” It was crazy. She knew it sounded crazy, but every time he touched her…“How were you able to put those images in my head? Back at Mary’s shop.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “You needed to see the truth.”
“I asked how.”
“I told you before that I’m…different. Aimee’s different. It’s in our blood.”
He’d told her, but she hadn’t believed him. Now she wasn’t so sure. Her head was spinning. What exactly did he mean by different? How different?
He sighed. “I never meant for any of this to happen. The first time I saw you working behind the counter of Mary’s shop, I was drawn to you. You were so innocent, so unaware of the effect you had on me. I should have stayed away, but every moment I was with you, you pulled me in deeper. Before I’d realized it, I’d fallen in love with you. Do you remember?”
She stepped away from him. She wouldn’t go there, wouldn’t let him pull her back to that dark place. The emptiness she’d felt after he’d left had created a hole in her that had never healed, had only been buried. No, she wouldn’t remember.
“I knew it couldn’t work, but I couldn’t make myself stay away from you.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
Why was he saying all this? What did he want from her? Fear rolled off of her. It seemed that with just a touch, he could influence her emotions. Was that possible? Was that what he’d done to her back then? Was that why she’d fallen so hard for him? Why she’d needed him so much?
Why she’d let him back in now?
“I wanted to make it work,” he continued, sounding honest and sincere. Everything she knew he wasn’t. “But then the unthinkable happened.”
She followed his gaze out the window. Aimee.
“I was a fool to think I could be normal. Worse than a fool to believe I had a right to put you and Aimee in danger by staying.”
“What’s different now?” her voice broke.
“Now it’s Aimee who is drawing the demons. Aimee is the prey.”
Sera shivered.
He took her hand in his. Warm. Comforting. She should pull away and run. But she didn’t.
“I was born into this life. I didn’t choose it. You think I wanted to leave you? To leave our daughter? Our life here? I had no choice.” He pulled her up against him. They were touching, her thighs against his, her stomach against…
Her body hummed. Were her feelings real, or was he creating them? She didn’t know anymore. She closed her eyes to hold back tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “Stop it, Trent. I want my feelings to be my own.”
“They are your own,” he whispered. “I still care about you and you still care about me. That’s why we’re so potent together.” He released her and moved back a step.
And she wanted to pull him back. He was right, they’d always been something more together than they each were on their own. Her eyes met his, and it took all her strength to hold on to her resolve. “You made your choice a long time ago, whether you believe you did or not.”
She couldn’t take much more. She felt cut open and exposed. Raw. But she had to focus on what was important. Aimee. She collapsed back down onto the love seat and took several deep breaths to steady her nerves.
He sat down next to her, thankfully keeping a respectable distance between them. It didn’t help that she could still smell his musky scent, sense his warmth, see his passion for her burning in his eyes.
He wanted her. Still.
She turned from him and watched her…their daughter playing outside the window, looking no different from any other eight-year-old girl. Sera had to know. “You said Aimee was different.…How?”
“It starts with the dreams. If a demon has caught her scent, she will dream of him, nightmarish images she won’t understand. When she’s older, her range will grow farther. She will be able to sense the demons before they are anywhere near her. But they will also be able to sense her.”
A chill shook Sera to the core. She rubbed her arms, trying hopelessly to warm herself. “And affecting people’s emotions? Putting images in their heads? What about that?”
“That talent is mine. We won’t know what special gifts, if any, Aimee will develop until she’s
older.
“Are there others? Demon hunters, I mean.”
“More than you would think.”
Sera’s stomach churned. “I don’t want this life for her.”
“I know. Listen, this is a lot to take in. Sit back and relax. Enjoy your tea. I’ll watch Aimee.”
Doubt rushed through her. “That’s all right. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Here…” He stood and pushed a throw pillow toward her. “Rest. I’ll go out back with Aimee and Shirley and their friend.”
At that moment, Sera yawned. She was exhausted, she thought as her eyelids drooped. “Shirley?”
“Her new puppy.”
“Hers? No. We don’t want a puppy.”
He leaned down and laid a hand on her arm. “The puppy is special. She can protect her.”
Sera wanted to laugh, but she didn’t have it in her. She was out of her element and unfortunately would have to trust this man who’d taken so much from her. But only as long as it took to discover if what he said was true, and what it would take for her to learn how to keep Aimee safe.
On her own.
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Chapter Three
As Sera rested on the sofa in the living room, a breeze whispered across her cheek from an opened window. Under heavy lids, she watched Trent dump supplies from his pack onto the table. In a matter of minutes, he had put what looked like herbs, bones, powders and God-knew-what-else into small leather pouches and tied them tight with leather straps. He then went around the house, placing a bag in each room.
Anxiety pulled at her insides. She sat up and rubbed the fatigue from her eyes. “Is that really necessary?”
“That and a white candle under each window.”
“I don’t understand how some dirt and wax can stop a demon.”
“Oh, it won’t stop him,” Trent said, coming closer to her. “This will just make the house a little more inhospitable for him.” He placed one of the bags on the windowsill behind her, leaning so close the musky spice of his cologne seeped into her senses, evoking images she’d rather not think of.
“I’ll stop him,” he said with a confident grin.
And when he looked at her like that—so self-assured and full of confidence she remembered why she’d found him so attractive all those years ago. And why he still appealed to her now. She shook the thoughts away and twisted her lips with skepticism. “And how exactly are you supposed to stop a demon?”
He stopped in front of her now, and damn if he didn’t have an impressive chest and strong wide shoulders. If a human was after her daughter, she didn’t doubt for a second that those rock-hard biceps could handle anything that came along.
But the threat wasn’t human.
Trent eased onto the sofa next to her, his weight tilting her in his direction until they almost touched. His body heat reached out to her, making her yearn to lean closer.
He brushed her hair away from her face. She froze, knowing she should jump up and go, but instead she found herself unable to move.
“You know,” he said softly. “I’ve missed you.”
His gaze caught hers and she read his intent in his eyes. He wanted more than to make sure she and Aimee were safe. He wanted her.
Her heart raced. Her palms felt damp. Damn.
Hunger emanated from him, she could see it in his gaze, feel it in his touch. Her temperature rose, making her skin flush. He placed his hand on her shoulder and slid it slowly down her arm. “We were always good together, chère.”
She tried not to think about how good, and yet her body remembered and responded. “Trent,” she whispered, but knew it was no use. His lips pressed gently against hers, barely touching her, yet leaving her breathless. Leaving her wanting more.
“We should work on our protection circles,” he murmured against her lips.
Yes, protection circles. But instead of taking the out he offered, instead of pulling away like any rational sane person would do, she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.
“Later,” she murmured. Right now, she didn’t want to think about juju spells, protection circles or demons. Right now, she wanted to think about his hands on her breasts. He’d always had a magic touch, his hands warm and gentle, knowing exactly where and how to caress her.
Time hadn’t changed that. His hand moved up the inside of her arm, down her side, across her breasts. Her nipples tightened, extending, longing for his sweet touch, for the gentle pull of his lips.
She was surprised by how strong her desire for him was. She’d been so lonely. Would it hurt to have just a moment of bliss? Even if she knew it couldn’t last? Even if she knew it was wrong?
A soft sigh escaped her lips as the insistent tingle started between her legs. It had been too long since she’d allowed herself to feel like a woman, to want and need.
And she wanted Trent now.
Even if it was only for this one time.
She let her mind wander back, remembering how she had felt nestled in his arms, lying beneath him, moving in a slow, steady rhythm as the pressure inside her mounted, growing, pushing her toward the edge of complete fulfillment.
There had only been two other men over the years since Trent had left her. But they hadn’t been able to make her feel the way he had—safe, secure, loved.
And completely satisfied.
No one had come close to touching her the way he did, with the pads of his fingers, the breadth of his palm, the gentle tips of his nails. But it was so much more than a physical touch; he touched her inside, too. She sighed and shifted, trying to find relief as the pressure built within her.
Yes, she remembered. Even now, she could feel his feathery caress moving up her thigh. She smiled, her lips spreading in a grin as a desire-laden purr filled her throat.
His light touch turned to long, firm strokes.
“Trent,” she murmured, and his lips were on hers, hard and demanding. She opened her mouth as his tongue pressed inside, possessing, conquering. As she lost herself in his taste, she knew she shouldn’t be doing this. She was letting her loneliness, her desire, overrule her good sense. She wanted to resist, but she couldn’t.
For all she knew, he was manipulating her thoughts. She shouldn’t give him that much power over her mind, her body. She shouldn’t let him in. But then his hands were under the waistband of her pants, moving downward. His finger found her moistness, and slipped inside, and all logical, rational thought disappeared. She groaned and shifted, allowing him in deeper. It had been so long, and it felt so good as he pulled out and pushed in, again and again.
“Trent,” she whispered, his name rolling off her tongue.
Tension tightened the nub between her legs. If he didn’t touch her there, if she didn’t find some relief soon, she would scream.
“Trent,” she called again, and shifted, then reached down to move his hand where she wanted it, but his hand wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.
“Trent?”
He’d left her again. Left her wanting…left her needing. Her eyes flew open and she was lying on the sofa.
Alone.
Embarrassment inflamed her cheeks. Had she imagined the whole thing? Had she been dreaming? Or had he done this to her? Had he somehow implanted himself in her thoughts, her mind? The thought sent a rash of chills coursing down her arms.
Quickly, Sera sat up. She heard him laughing and sought the source of the sound. He was in the backyard, pushing Aimee on the swing.
He wasn’t even in the house.
Sera’s stomach turned. She’d dreamed the whole thing, and the worst part was, even in her dream, she’d been left wanting more. Wanting that sweet release. Wanting Trent.
He laughed again, and the sound of it filled her with an overwhelming need to lie in his arms, to rest her head against his chest and feel the warm rumble within.
No. She would not, could not have him. Even by continuing with these thoughts, she was rushing toward a precipice wher
e this time the fall just might break her. She couldn’t chance giving herself to that man only to have him rip out her heart and leave her once again. She’d be a fool, worse than a fool.
She stood, moving away from the sound of his laughter, and walked into the kitchen ready to do anything that would take her mind off him. She walked into the room and stopped, her hand rushing to her lips as a small cry escaped her mouth. A small brown leather pouch sat next to a burning white candle on the windowsill.
Sera took several deep breaths and tried to pull her thoughts together. She ignored the pouch and what it might mean and busied herself with making dinner, trying unsuccessfully to keep her mind on the simple task rather than on the restlessness building within her.
Trent always had a way of consuming all her thoughts. Here he’d only been back in her life one day and already her nerves were shredded and nothing was as it should be. Another day of this and she might lose her sanity completely. With fierce determination, she focused on making pasta and a salad, trying desperately to shut him out of her mind.
Sixty minutes later with the table set, spaghetti on the stove and bread in the oven, she walked back out into the living room to check on Aimee and Trent. Trent had set up an expandable folding pen in the corner and Aimee was lying inside sound asleep with one arm curled around the puppy.
Trent sat on the sofa, watching them. “She’s adorable,” he said quietly.
Sera tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help herself as the puppy started to snore. “They both are.”
She approached the pen. “Aimee,” she said softly as she pulled open the side of the pen and crouched down. She shook her daughter gently. Aimee groaned.
A spike of alarm shot through Sera. Something was wrong. Aimee’s skin was too pale, her breathing a little too shallow.
“Aimee, are you hungry?”
Aimee’s eyes cracked open. She shook her head, then pulled the puppy closer. Dark purplish smudges tinted the pale skin beneath her eyes. Sera frowned, then placed her hand on Aimee’s forehead. She turned to Trent. “She’s burning up.”
His Magic Touch Page 3