What she wouldn’t give for a glimpse of the Bryce Lancaster who could set her teeth on edge with nothing more than a cold smile.
That Bryce she knew how to handle, how to protect herself against. But this one, the curve of his lips the complete opposite of chilly, slipped beneath her defenses. How was she supposed to fight back against slow, sexy grins and an irresistible charm that she felt all the way down to her toes?
“And you’re in denial.”
She scoffed and gave up on pretending nothing happened. “At least I was drunk. What’s your excuse? Because I know I didn’t imagine the way you were looking at me last night.”
“And what way was that?” he challenged, his voice low and laced with sinful intent.
Smart enough to take a step back, Darby shook her head. “If you’re looking for an apology—”
In one stride he filled the space she had tried to put between them. “The only thing I want you to be sorry for is going to bed alone.”
If shock hadn’t locked Darby’s feet to the ground she would have ended up in the ditch that ran parallel to the trail. She could have imagined a lot of things coming out of Bryce’s mouth, but nothing prepared her for that.
Worse, though, nothing prepared her for the wave of heat that streaked through her despite every sensible reason that she shouldn’t feel a damn thing.
Looking annoyed—with himself or her?—Bryce brushed past her and continued up the path.
She stared after him, glancing away when something bounced off her knee.
What the…
Above her, the monkey screeched again, waving madly. Whatever direction she was headed in, he clearly wanted her to hurry the hell up. She trailed after Bryce before she’d consciously decided it would be better to set the record straight with him than leave his comment hanging between them.
Easier said than done when he set a brutal pace. Exercise—unless she counted how often she planted herself between Finn and Dante when they bickered over cases like two senile old women—was one of those things she kept promising herself she’d make time for, but hadn’t quite managed to work into her schedule.
Between her hangover and struggling to keep up with Bryce—the latter of which she’d never admit to—she was too distracted to think about anything else. She didn’t notice that he’d stopped until the trail opened up, offering a breathtaking view of the resort below and the beach and ocean beyond. Pale-blue sky met sun-kissed waves that glittered far into the horizon.
“Wow.” She stepped up to the rail at the edge of the drop-off, forgetting everything but the small slice of paradise spread out before her. The view alone was worth the trip up.
Bryce rested his forearms on the rail. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
“Are you talking about the view or the company?”
That slow, devastating grin was back. “Both.”
He glanced over, seeming to realize how close they stood. She never noticed him moving, only felt him edge into her space a little more. His eyes were far too distracting, his blue-gray gaze sliding under her skin.
“How’s my head?”
She pretended to scrutinize the injury. “Looks…infected. He was chewing on whatever he threw at you. Maybe he has rabies.”
“Well, that would give you an excuse to stay away from me for what’s left of our truce.”
“Strangely enough, I’ve been vaccinated recently.” At his raised eyebrow, she added. “Don’t ask.”
He laughed. “Don’t say I didn’t give you the opportunity to keep your distance.”
“You say that like I’ll regret not steering clear of you.”
“Too late now.” He straightened without warning, his gaze locked on her mouth.
“There’s a world of difference between not avoiding you and kissing you.”
“Then maybe we should renegotiate the terms of our truce.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Bryce was lost.
There wasn’t any other explanation for quitting his job and coming on to Darby within days of each other.
Utterly fucking lost.
Leaving his job had made sense at the time. He’d been increasingly dissatisfied to the point he dreaded going into the office every morning. Somewhere in the last six months he’d lost his drive for the career he’d been dedicated to for so long he could barely remember a time his decisions didn’t revolve around his long-term goals.
Last week he finally gave up on waiting for the phase to pass and accepted that he needed to make some kind of a change. Now that he was a few days into his spontaneous decision to quit, he wasn’t as convinced walking away made any sense at all.
Kind of like standing there courting disaster by leaning toward Darby and thinking that kissing her, getting her up against him where he could feel all those tempting curves, was the best plan to get his life back on track instead of the worst.
He apparently needed to hit rock bottom before he’d find his footing and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next.
Except being with her and remembering things—feeling things—felt so damn good.
Christ, he knew better.
Renegotiate their truce? Twenty-four hours ago they wouldn’t have exchanged so much as a kind word, and now all he could think about was sliding his mouth over hers and exchanging slow, hot strokes of lips and tongue.
Yeah, lost about covered it.
Their current situation, with her close but not nearly close enough, was at least half her fault. He sure as hell hadn’t planned on mentioning last night at all. Not after his run-in with Dante. The second she’d come along this morning in her too-short shorts and clinging tank top that left one tantalizing black bra strap showing, last night was all he could think about.
And then she’d gone and said the one thing that pushed him across the line from interested but not worth the trouble to hell yeah.
Sex.
The word had been bouncing around in his head for the last twenty minutes and had managed to get him hotter and more turned on than he’d been in months. Maybe years.
The harder he tried to talk himself out of it, the harder it was to overcome the part of him—the lost part—that hungered for just a taste. Which left him torn between waiting for her to say something and skipping ahead to feeling her mouth open beneath his.
“Sleeping together is nonnegotiable, Bryce.”
“Sleeping wasn’t really on the table, but I’m willing to make a concession or two.”
“This isn’t something you can plea bargain.” Her resigned tone didn’t match the possessive grip she had on his shirt.
He didn’t have a clue when she’d trapped the material between her fingers, but feeling the subtle tug when she looked ready to bolt gave him hope.
“Screw you!”
He and Darby broke apart at the unexpected female voice, both of them turning in the direction of a woman coming down the trail. She didn’t so much as glance in their direction, her furious strides eating up the path.
She stormed past them and Bryce had to admire how fast she could move in sandals with heels high enough to add at least three inches to her height.
Darby waited until the brunette passed them. “We should get going. Everyone might be hanging out at the top of the trail for a while.”
Bryce didn’t object, but wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. “Just think about it.”
“Not only is getting involved a bad idea—”
“No getting involved,” he interrupted. “And sex is never a bad idea. You said yourself that we’re not the same people we used to be. But the one thing that hasn’t changed is the chemistry between us.”
“You know it’s more complicated than that.”
Complicated wasn’t counting for a whole lot right now. “It doesn’t need to be. We have a little more than twenty-four hours left of our truce. Why not take full advantage of that?”
She looked away. “Maybe you can just forget what happened—”<
br />
“Tiffany!” A man jogged down the trail looking just as pissed as the brunette he followed. “Wait up.”
Tiffany, who must have slowed down to avoid breaking an ankle, didn’t even look back as she gave her pursuer the finger.
“I said to fucking wait.”
Next to him, Darby went still, clearly not liking the guy’s attitude any more than Bryce did.
Dressed in expensive clothes that didn’t look any more suited for a hike than Tiffany’s heels, the guy caught the brunette by the arm and swung her around with enough force to make her stumble.
“Let go,” Tiffany snapped.
Ignorant of his audience, he grabbed both of her arms, squeezing enough to make her wince. “I told you to wait for me.”
“And I told you that I don’t want some stupid boat named the Sea Witch for an engagement present. Did you even stop and think about what people would think when they see me on a boat named that?”
“It’s just a name. We’ll change it.”
She tried jerking her arms free. “But I’ll still know.”
“Now is not the time to talk about this.” Tiffany might be oblivious to his and Darby’s presence, but her fiancé had finally noticed them.
The same way Bryce noticed that buddy still had a grapple hold on her arm.
“It’s never the time,” Tiffany whined. “You’re no fun anymore. All you do is work and cater to your father.” She winced. “You’re hurting me.”
Unable to watch the guy manhandle her any longer, Bryce stepped forward. “Is there a problem?”
The guy glared at Bryce. “There will be if you don’t mind your own business.”
“Patrick.” Another voice called out, this one coming from a man who both resembled and dressed similarly to the asshole turning Tiffany’s arm red from his grip.
He nodded politely to Bryce and Darby. “Sorry to disturb you.”
“Don’t apologize,” Patrick snapped. “It’s her damn fault. If anyone is going to apologize, it’s her.” He nodded to Tiffany, who had grown quiet at the appearance of the newcomer, who Bryce guessed was Patrick’s father.
Ignoring his son, the man forced a smile. “Lovers’ quarrel.”
As far as Bryce was concerned, there wasn’t anything particularly loving about the scene unfolding in front of them.
“Can we go now?” Tiffany asked, shooting Patrick’s father a nervous look. She’d edged back enough to position Patrick between them.
Patrick twisted her around to face them. “First you’ll apologize for making a scene—”
“It’s not necessary, Tiffany.”
Darby’s tough-as-nails tone proved why she was the one who dealt with the badge-carrying guys who pulled jurisdiction whenever Calder Investigations landed themselves in an ongoing investigation—which was more often than not, it seemed to Bryce. But she had a talent for knowing when she needed to cater to bruised egos and when she needed to be as stone-cold intimidating as her brothers.
Patrick’s face reddened. “Yes, it is.”
Tiffany winced and ducked her head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Patrick glared at Darby, then eased his grip on Tiffany and turned her back down the trail. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He hadn’t taken three steps when a thick branch from an overhanging tree spontaneously caught in the breeze and snapped across his cheek.
“Fuck.” Releasing Tiffany, he slapped the branch away from his face.
Next to Bryce, Darby narrowed her eyes. Her amulet brightened and this time he heard her whisper, “Occido.”
Patrick looked back at that exact moment, his brows dark, angry slashes that relaxed into an expression of confusion when his gaze fell to Darby’s neck.
Then his legs tangled up in themselves, and he went down hard, too taken by surprise to get his hands up in enough time to stop his face from scraping the ground. Stunned for a moment, he scrambled up, swiping at his bleeding lip.
Tiffany’s lips pursed in what might have been a smirk, then she continued her trek back down the trail. Patrick’s gaze shot to them, and Darby crossed her arms as if silently daring him to do something else.
“Patrick,” his father snapped before following Tiffany, who had disappeared from view, leaving his son to catch up with them.
With one last furious look thrown over his shoulder, one that seemed to catch on Darby’s amulet, Patrick left.
Damn it.
Bryce waited until they were alone, before lowering his voice. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“I think I restrained myself pretty well, actually. He deserved worse for treating her like that. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”
“That’s not the point.” Not when it left her open to being exposed.
“And what is the point?” In a blink all traces of the warm, friendly woman he’d been seconds from pinning against the rail vanished, replaced with the cold, distant woman he passed in the halls at the courthouse.
“The point is that just because we can do it, doesn’t mean we should.”
She scoffed. “There’s a good chance he would have done worse if we hadn’t been here.”
“That doesn’t give us the right to manipulate people with magic. There have to be boundaries.”
“Whose boundaries? Your father’s?” she challenged, a familiar resentment surfacing in her eyes.
His stomach knotted. “This is not about my father.”
“It’s always about your father. You don’t think anyone overheard him last night, reminding you that my family isn’t good enough for him?”
“I am not my father.”
“No? Then why did you lie to me years ago? Why not tell me you were a Lancaster? You knew what I was the second you laid eyes on my amulet and you never said a word to me.”
“Don’t turn this around. We’re not talking about what happened in the past, unless you really want to go there.” He’d been through it once before and wasn’t in the mood to poke at old wounds. He’d done his best to ignore them back then and he’d be damned if he shoved them under a microscope now.
She shook her head, a flash of sadness blinking across her face before she turned away from him. “No. I really don’t. But none of this changes the fact that we are not like other people, Bryce.”
“Magic doesn’t make us any more special than everyone else.”
“And abstaining from using it doesn’t make you better than the rest of us.”
“I never said it did.”
She glanced back at him. “You’ve never needed to say it. The judgmental look on your face gets your point across every time.”
“Don’t assume you know what I’m thinking, Darby.”
His earlier irritation at being interrupted by Patrick and Tiffany flared into anger. The same kind of frustrated anger he’d felt when she had shut him out of her life. No matter how many times he’d tried apologizing or what he’d been willing to give up to be with her, it hadn’t been enough.
Only when he’d given up and moved on, forced to accept that it wouldn’t work between them, had she suddenly been willing to talk to him again. By then it had been too late as far as he was concerned.
He was done explaining himself to her or any other Calder.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I assume you don’t need an answer to your question about renegotiating our truce?”
His chest felt empty despite the heavy pounding of his heart. “What truce?”
She flinched, then pivoted around and continued farther up the trail.
Fuck.
Alone, he spun and faced the railing, tightening his fingers around it until the rough wood bit into his palms. Fuck!
He sure as hell wouldn’t be trailing after her in search of everyone else. Aside from being too pissed off to talk to anyone right now, he sure as hell didn’t trust himself not to pick a fight with one of her brothers if either of them so much as glanced at him the
wrong way.
Bree didn’t need that. Better for her to be annoyed at him for heading back to his bungalow than put herself in a position where she might have to step between him and his future brother-in-law.
Having come up with some kind of plan that didn’t involve facing anyone else, least of all Darby, he made his way back down the trail.
* * *
Bryce’s mood had only improved marginally by the time the wedding rolled around.
At least the weather had cooperated with a gorgeous sunset, which, combined with the beachside arbor draped in a white gauzy material that billowed in the breeze, made the setting feel like something out of a tropical fairy tale. His sister certainly deserved it, even if she was marrying Finn.
The gathered crowd chatted amongst themselves while everyone waited for the couple to arrive and get the ceremony underway. The longer he had to stand there, though, the harder it was not to glance at Darby.
Either fate had conspired against him, or he had the shittiest luck since he ended up only a few feet away from her after people had stopped shuffling around. He hadn’t once felt her attention stray in his direction, and after their argument earlier he wouldn’t have expected otherwise.
So why did he have this urge to apologize to her?
“I’ve got two words for you. Shark bait.” Alex patted Bryce’s shoulder, nodding in Dante’s direction. “Judging by the Bryce-equals-chum look on Dante’s face, I’m guessing the truce between you and Darby isn’t going so well?”
“Since when has he needed an excuse to glare at me?”
“Good point.” Alex winked at the redhead from last night. “So what happened, aside from him finding you at her place last night?”
“You know about that?” He massaged the back of his neck. “Never mind. Stupid question.” He would have been surprised if the Tribunal warlock hadn’t known, considering he possessed the ability to know what every Calder, Lancaster or Hastings was thinking.
Alex rolled his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, but at least half the people here know about that by now.”
Wasn’t that just perfect? “How?”
Must Be Magic (Spellbound Book 4) Page 6