Blazing Nights (A Night Games Novel)

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Blazing Nights (A Night Games Novel) Page 9

by Linda Barlow


  Daniel gave her one of those looks. She recognized it from the night of the party. "You may not be a psychic, but you're clearly eccentric," he said with a long-suffering sigh. "I must be out of my head, falling for you. I should have turned and run the other way the moment I saw you."

  "On the contrary." She grinned at him. "Maybe I'm exactly what a stick-in-the-mud rationalist like you needs. Everybody should have some mystery, some magic, some witchcraft, in their lives."

  His eyes caressed her with something more than passion. There was affection there, she was certain. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head faintly and smiled instead. "Come on. Let's watch the haunted play, my love."

  The possessive way he'd said "my love" warmed her for the rest of the evening.

  * * *

  "You really shouldn't do anything adventuresome tonight, luv," Graham said to her as she was hanging up her costume after the rehearsal. Daniel was waiting for her outside. "Baleful planetary influences, you know. According to the charts, a Pisces like you should lock all the doors and windows and crawl safely into bed alone. It's definitely not the time to take any risks."

  "Oh, great. That makes me feel terrific, Graham."

  "And whatever you do, don't travel. Not that you need an astrologer to tell you that. Just look out the window."

  It was pouring. In fact, during the hours they'd been in the theater, the outer bands of that offshore hurricane had struck the city, dumping several inches of rain and shaking the trees with high winds. "I have to travel to get home," she pointed out. "So do you, for heaven's sake."

  "Go home, by all means. Just don't go anywhere else."

  She caught her lower lip in her teeth in a brief nervous gesture. "You don't like him, do you?"

  "Not really, no."

  "You were the one who abandoned me to him at that party. You blithely told him I was a witch and took off."

  "I was an idiot. He'll walk all over you."

  "He's a Scorpio. You said we were compatible."

  "Scorpios are ruled by the planet Pluto, who was the god of the underworld, if you remember. They're hard, dark, and fierce. And they're hell on women. Remember what happened to Persephone when Pluto decided he wanted her? He thundered up out of the ground in his chariot and dragged her screaming down to the Underworld."

  "He released her when her mother went crazy with grief and brought winter to the world."

  "Only because the other gods insisted. And he demanded that she spend half of every year with him." He looked dramatically out the window at the raging storm. "She's with him now, languishing in heavy darkness, held in thrall by that overpowering sensuality all Pluto people possess."

  "Chill, Graham."

  "Why don't you find yourself a nice Cancer? That's the other sun sign you're compatible with, and they're much safer and easier to get along with."

  "I like Daniel."

  "You're going to do it with him, aren't you?"

  The little throbs of excitement that had shivered in her all evening erupted again. Her heart was beating twice as fast as usual, and her skin felt so sensitive that she was aware of every inch of her clothes. She fussed with her costume and didn't answer.

  She heard the crack of Graham's knuckles and heard him moving close behind her. "Just be careful, okay?" He touched her shoulder. "I’d hate to see you get hurt."

  She turned spontaneously and hugged him. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

  Graham kissed her forehead, and then pushed her away. "Go on. He's waiting."

  * * *

  A half hour later she and Daniel were standing on her front porch, shaking themselves like bedraggled animals after being pelted with wind-whipped rain.

  "You'd better invite me in this time, lady, or I'm liable to blow away."

  She laughed as she struggled with her keys. "Not even I could be so cruel as to send you home on a night like this without a nightcap or a hot cup of coffee."

  When she finally managed the lock, Daniel pushed the door open, and they stepped together into the house. "Yes!" he said as he moved into the warmth of her front hall. He pushed back his hood and tore off those sexy driving gloves, and before she could blink, his jacket was unzipped.

  "The night creature is in." He backed her against the nearest wall. He tipped up her chin with his fingers and thumb and stared at her parted lips for an instant. "You're doomed," he added before covering her mouth with his.

  Chapter 8

  Kate melted into the kiss as the rain from their jackets dripped into tiny puddles on the floor. Daniel's lips were hotly possessive, his body strong and all-encompassing. I want you so, she said silently as she slid her hands up his arms to tangle her fingers in the damp, dark waves of his hair. He was delicious—a warm, vital force, a dynamic whirlwind of masculinity.

  "Mmm," he murmured against her mouth. His tongue completed a lazy tour of her lips that made her entire body glow. "I've been dreaming about this all evening. All day. I've been walking around in a daze of desire since this morning." He stripped himself and then her of their jackets in a few economical moves. One hand skated down her throat, opening the top three buttons of the lavender top she wore over her jeans, and he lightly massaged the hollow between her breasts. "I've been aching to do this," he whispered. His thumb splayed out and rasped over a nipple. She shivered and curled closer to him. "And this." He coaxed the nipple to hardness with rough yet tender fingers. "There are so many things I want to do with you tonight."

  "Me, too." Leaning her head against his throat she said, "But let’s take it slowly."

  "I’ll try." He moved her head slightly so he could nibble on her earlobe and run his tongue along the hairline where her thick tresses sprang.

  "Rumor has it that you hook up with a lot of women." As soon as the words were out, she wished them unsaid. It sounded too much like a demand that he offer her something more than he usually offered his bedmates.

  "Don't listen to rumors." His hands moved down her back and curved over the soft flesh of her bottom, cupping her tightly against his thighs. "Trust me. I'm quite an honest man, you know."

  "I remember. One of your good points." She leaned back and grinned at him. He unhooked one of her hands from around his neck and held the palm up for examination.

  "What of your heart line? Are our palms as compatible as our horoscopes?" He brought her hand to his lips and ran his tongue over her palm. The sensual muscles inside her convulsed, and she felt as if her legs were going to give way. A soft sound of pleasure rose in her throat as his clever tongue slid in between each of her fingers, circled the base of her thumb, then devilishly probed the sensitive hollow in the center of her palm.

  "Daniel," she whispered.

  He dropped her hand and kissed her mouth again with a passion that she matched blindly, fiercely, and without thought—until Chester meowed and shoved his body between their legs.

  "What the hell?"

  "It's okay. It's only Chester. He must be jealous." She stooped down to ruffle the tawny creature behind the ears. "Hi, baby. I want you to meet Daniel."

  Chester rubbed his head against his human's fingers and pointedly ignored Daniel, who stared down at him, saying, "That's the biggest cat I've ever seen. Is he domesticated?"

  "Just barely," she laughed.

  Daniel gamely attempted to pet Chester, but the huge orange cat lurched out of his way, swatting the leg of a small table with his tail. The table tottered, and Kate reached out to steady it as Chester slunk away into the kitchen. "Unlike most cats, he's clumsy. He’s forever knocking something over."

  "I don't think he likes me," Daniel said as Chester gave him a haughty amber-eyed stare from the kitchen doorway.

  "He's suspicious of males. He rarely sees one."

  One of Daniel's hands lightly clamped her wrist. "I still find that a little hard to believe, Kate."

  "Well, it's true." She tried to withdraw her arm, but it was held fast by his strong fingers.

 
"I'm glad, though. The less competition, the better."

  She leaned her head back and opened her eyes wide. "Getting possessive already, Blaze?"

  "Did you miss that when you were studying my palm? I've been possessive of you from the moment we met."

  His gruffly assertive tone thrilled her at the same time that it made her a trifle wary. She had no experience dealing with a willful, passionate man like Daniel. Arthur had been so even-tempered and serene.

  "And don't call me Blaze," he added.

  "Why not? It's a romantic name—sounds like something from one of those old bodice rippers. Those heroes were always very sexy, if a trifle overbearing."

  "Well, sexy sounds good, but I'll try my best not to be overbearing."

  Would he? she wondered. He'll try to dominate you, Graham had warned that first night. Kate knew that, good-natured though she was, she lacked a submissive spirit. If Daniel did indeed try to dominate her, they would end up fighting.

  She and Arthur had rarely fought. In retrospect, it seemed a bit odd. Certainly there had been occasions when she had felt angry with him, and he must have been angry in return, but she could probably count the times they had seriously quarreled on the fingers of one hand. Arthur had been a peacemaker. He had been good at defusing tension, and he would set his own needs and feelings aside if doing so could prevent a fight.

  She wondered, maybe for the first time ever, how many of her husband's own needs had never been met? He had always put her first. Had their harmony been, in some ways, bad for Arthur? A memory of the accident flashed: had she imagined it, or had Arthur, realizing their car was out of control, somehow managed to turn the wheel just enough so that he, not she, took the brunt of the impact? Had the final act of his life been an attempt to save her?

  "What are you brooding about?" Daniel asked, watching her face.

  She snapped back to the present. "I was just thinking about Arthur."

  Damn. She knew as soon as she spoke the words that she shouldn't have said them.

  There was an edge to his voice as he said, "Do you often brood about Arthur?"

  "I'm sorry. That was tactless of me."

  There was a moment of taut silence before the tension in him dissolved. He ran a hand through his black hair, unconsciously mussing it. "No. My bad." His blue velvet eyes glinted with self-deprecation. "I like it that you're honest with me. It's just that I guess I'm what you might call a territorial male."

  "Hmm. You and Chester probably have a lot in common." At the sound of his name, Chester meowed plaintively. "He's hungry. Let me get him settled." She moved down the hall to the kitchen, where Chester was expectantly circling his supper dish. "He’s actually my mother’s cat, but I’ve been taking care of him lately."

  Daniel followed, bumping his head on the low archway to the kitchen and cursing. Chester gave him a haughty glare.

  "Be careful," she warned too late. "It's an old house."

  Daniel looked around the modern kitchen. "Looks pretty contemporary in here."

  "We renovated the kitchen and the bathrooms. In fact, we had to renovate the entire house before we could live comfortably here—new floors, new windows, insulation, a new heating system, new plumbing and wiring." She opened a cupboard and took down a can of cat food. Chester was head butting her ankles. "It was quite a project."

  "We refers to you and Arthur? You lived here with him?"

  "Yes. We actually inherited the place when a rich aunt of his died; we couldn't have afforded it otherwise." The aunt had also left them some cash, which had come in handy. Kate didn't make a lot of money as an actress, although recently she had landed a few commercials that supplemented her income.

  There was a short silence. Daniel leaned back against one of the countertops and folded his arms across his chest, considering her as she dumped the cat food into Chester's dish and placed it on the floor. Chester pounced.

  "You said Arthur died in a car accident?"

  "Yes. I was in the car, too. He swerved to avoid a child who had run into the road, and we crashed into a tree."

  Daniel crossed to her, cursing softly as he took her in his arms. He cradled her face in gentle hands. "I'm so sorry."

  "Arthur was killed instantly. I was trapped in the mangled car, going in and out of consciousness. I have nightmares about it sometimes." She shuddered, not wanting to relive it. "Afterward, when they admitted to me that he was dead, I didn't want to go on living. But I wasn't hurt badly enough to die."

  "Thank God for that."

  "I was hospitalized for a while, though, with broken bones and lacerations. I caught a hospital infection, and was very sick for a couple weeks. My mom took great care of me, and my friends were wonderful, too. If it hadn't been for the people who love me, I don't think I would be here now."

  Daniel held her close for several minutes while she regained her composure. She could feel his compassion washing over her. His hands massaged her shoulders and fiddled with her hair.

  "But I'm okay," she said, pulling away from him. Was she? Her memories of Arthur were immediate and strong tonight. What would he have thought of Daniel? Would he have liked him? Maybe they wouldn’t have gotten along.

  She carefully covered the cat-food can with aluminum foil and put it away, feeling uncomfortable under Daniel’s steady gaze. "Do you want a drink?" She pulled open the cupboard over the refrigerator to reveal her small cache of alcoholic beverages. "I think I have some wine, and maybe even some whiskey."

  "No, thanks." When she turned and inadvertently bumped her head against the cabinet door, he added, "Am I making you nervous?"

  "Nervous?" She smiled, determined not to appear edgy, but she found herself taking a step backward as he advanced toward her. She felt the edge of the sink against the small of her back as his hands settled on the counter on either side of her, trapping her. He was so close. His warm breath on her face, the coiled power of his hard-muscled body only centimeters away. She felt caged, cornered.

  "How long has it been, Kate?" His voice was low, sensual.

  She turned her head away from his tantalizing eyes and mouth and stared out the small kitchen window at the darkly falling rain. "I told you."

  "There's really been no one since Arthur died? No sex for three whole years?"

  "I'm sure it's hard to believe."

  His fingers trailed over her cheek, caressed the curve of her mouth. "You loved your husband. I can understand that. But it does seem an enormous waste." He lowered his head until his lips whispered over hers. "A beautiful, vibrant woman like you shouldn't lock herself away from the males of the world. It only makes us more determined to seek you out and make you feel alive again."

  He kissed her deeply then, but she resisted, not knowing why. He could bring her body to a riot of wild sensations, but again she sensed he would demand much more from her than he would be willing to give in return. All Graham's warnings came back to haunt her. She was Persephone, tempted to the feast by the dark lord of the underworld. If she gave in, and ate, she would be forever subject to his will.

  "Relax," he murmured. His kiss became gentler, more seductive. When her mouth refused to open to him, the tip of his tongue flicked her, coaxed her, entreated rather than demanded. "Nothing's going to happen unless you want it to. I can't seem to stop trying to make you want it, though. It's my nature, I think."

  "Sex is important to you." She felt her resolve weakening as fine wires of sensation curled through her.

  He moved his hips against her. "Yes."

  "I guess I am a little nervous," she admitted. Her fingers moved lightly over his shoulders, feeling the strong contours of hard muscle and sinew beneath the flannel of his shirt. "But I’ll be fine."

  "Let's sit down." With one arm cradling her to his side, he steered her into the living room and dropped them both down on the plump-cushioned ivory-colored couch. He gathered her close, practically into his lap, but his beguiling caresses ceased. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head as he sa
id, "There’s no rush. I want you to feel comfortable with me. Can you tell me what you’re worried about?"

  "It’s just jitters. Stage fright. It’s common among actors, you know."

  "No acting, Kate. Not when we’re together like this."

  She laughed softly. "Do I look as if I’m acting? You wouldn’t think so if you knew me better."

  "We know each other better than you think. We looked into each other's eyes on the night we met and learned all the important stuff right then and there."

  "I don't believe it! D. B Haggarty, professional rationalist, proclaiming the virtues of intuitive communication?"

  She could feel him smile. "Not exactly. It's all due to the sense of smell, you know. Perfectly rational and scientific. Intuition has nothing to do with it."

  "Smell?" She sniffed dubiously. He did have a pleasant natural scent about him. A faint glimmering of woodsy maleness.

  "Sure. Haven't you heard that explanation of instant attraction? It's no longer termed love at first sight, but a bonding of the olfactory senses. My nose and yours are soul mates."

  Kate giggled. He lifted her chin and rubbed his nose back and forth against hers. "You see? They're crazy about each other."

  The conjunction of noses brought their mouths within a whisper of one another. Kate's chest tightened as he said against her moistened lips, "It sounds crazy, even to me, but I honestly feel that there's a lot more at stake with you than there's been with any other woman in my life."

  "At stake? As in burning at the?"

  He lowered his lips to her throat, letting her feel his teeth. The tiny threat made her breathless. "Why do I have the feeling you're not taking me seriously?"

  I'm afraid I'm taking you all too seriously. You're too passionately emotional, too dynamic, and much too sexy for me not to take you seriously. You're tearing my quiet existence to shreds. "You promised you wouldn't rush me."

  He smiled wistfully. "Did I? Stupid me." He pulled her closer, nestling her head against his shoulder. "Do you want me to go?"

  She felt the warm, solid length of him beside her, his hands gently caressing her, his comfortable shoulder, his strong thighs just beside hers on the sofa—all the things that testified to his incredible hotness. If he stayed, they would make love, which was what they both wanted. They had both wanted it since the night they’d met. "No. Don’t go."

 

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