Prince of Fire

by Tawny Taylor

  She glanced at him.

  He was dressed. Peering out the window. Eyebrows furrowed. Arms crossed over his chest.

  He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And it suddenly became clear—it didn’t matter whether the curse was real or not, to him it was, and he was obviously miserable.

  “Is there anything I can do…to help?” She felt foolish for even saying the words.

  One hand rubbing the back of his neck, he shook his head. “No.” He turned to her. “You’ve done more for me than anyone has in centuries. I…I’d forgotten what it felt like to be touched. Held. Kissed.”

  Good God, if he had been telling the truth that would be awful. She liked to keep people at arm’s length, and she had her own reasons for doing so. But she still had sex when she wanted. Evidently, it had been a long time for Talen. Months or years even.

  Centuries?

  Just imagining living for hundreds of years but not having someone to talk to, vent to or laugh with made her feel cold and empty.

  “You really believe you’ve lived hundreds of years?” she asked, expecting one answer while wishing she’d hear another.

  Standing by the window, he shrugged. “Sure.”

  The response she’d expected. “What was it like back then? The world?”

  “In some ways, just like it is now. Mankind is still the same. Always searching for whatever might make him happy next, buy him a few moments of contentment. The clothes he wears and the things he clings to are just different.”

  “You’re jaded.”

  “I’ve seen too much not to be.”

  “What about the good? You must have seen some good things too.”

  He rubbed his neck again.

  “Is our time up?”

  He turned back toward the window. “No, but it will be soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “Minutes.”

  Her heart lurched, and she leaned toward him, suddenly eager to feel his strong arms wrapped around her again. “We managed to escape him once before. Can we do it a second time?”

  He stared at her for a long, tense moment, his expression completely unreadable.

  “Maybe we could snag a few more hours?” she asked when he didn’t say anything. She felt her face warming. “I mean, you want more time, don’t you?”

  He gathered her into a tight embrace and she gladly sank into it, soaking up his heat. Safe. Protected. Warm. She’d never felt better. “I do. I really do.”

  “So do I.”

  He cupped her chin, brushed his mouth over hers.

  “I don’t expect forever,” she told him. “You don’t have to make up stories to let me off easy, if that’s what you’re doing.”

  “I wish this all was a lie. It’s not.” He gazed at her, some kind of emotion brewing in his eyes.

  She didn’t speak, just savored the moment, the way he looked at her, the energy charging through the air, the sensation of his strong arms wrapped protectively around her like a cocoon.

  “Oh, hell. Let’s go.” As if a switch had been thrown, hurling him into frenzied action, he headed toward the door.

  “Hang on! Let me get my stuff, at least.” While he paced the floor, looking anxious, she scurried about, gathering the things she’d brought from her apartment. A few minutes later, Talen led her out of the building, gaze snapping back and forth, all around them. Once they were in the parking lot, he hesitated.

  “Did you forget where you’re parked?” she asked.

  “I don’t own a car.”

  “Mine’s over there in my reserved spot—”

  “No, we’ll walk.” He closed his hand around hers and tugged her down the street. To keep pace, she had to fall into a jog-slash-race walk. It left her short-winded, so she didn’t talk. Neither did he, for quite a while.

  They hurried down tree-lined streets, past stores and restaurants, homes and parks. Finally, about two miles from the building, he slowed enough so she could walk instead of run.

  “Thank you,” she said between huffs. She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you think we’re being followed?”

  “The sensation’s cooling.”

  “You’re like a walking, talking bad-guy Lojack, aren’t you? How handy,” she quipped.

  “I’ve never tried to avoid them before. Always believed the worst would happen if I did.”

  “What made you do it this time?”

  He smiled down at her. “Do you really need to ask?”

  “Is it just the sex?”

  “No, actually, it’s not.”

  Silence. A few fat raindrops smacked her on the head. A wind gust caught her hair, sending it whipping across her eyes.

  “It isn’t for me either,” she admitted.

  More silence. More raindrops.

  She shoved her hair back, away from her face. It was quickly becoming a soggy, matted mess. And her clothes were getting wet too. She tugged at her cotton shirt to keep it from clinging to her skin and giving passersby a look at her goods. “Where are we headed? Do you have any idea?”

  He shoved his fingers through his damp hair. The ends were curling. His skin was glistening. His damp clothes starting to adhere themselves to his glorious body. He looked uber sexy. “No. I’m not familiar with the area. Do you have any ideas?”

  She pointed east. “There’s a hotel down there. But we don’t have any money.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take care of it. How far down?” A droplet of rainwater fell from a curl hanging over the center of his forehead. It landed on his nose then dribbled down to the tip where he wiped it away. “I hope it’s close. You’re getting drenched.”

  “I’m okay. It feels kind of good.” She squinted, futilely trying to mentally tick off how many traffic lights there were between their current position and the intersection in front of the hotel. She just couldn’t think straight, not with a very wet and tempting Talen standing next to her. “I’m guessing it’s another two miles or so. Funny, but when you’re driving, you don’t pay attention to how many miles away something is. Distances just don’t mean the same thing.”

  “So true,” he agreed, palming her cheek.

  Their gazes locked and all she could think about was how wonderful he tasted and what an amazing kisser he was. Just when she thought he might bend down and give her another taste of that luscious mouth of his, he dropped his hand and started to walk again. “Try traveling five hundred miles by foot.”

  “You’ve walked five hundred miles?” she asked, admiring his shoulders and arms. The man had to spend more than his share of time in the gym with a physique like that.

  “Yes.”

  Growing annoyed with her hair, she gathered it at her nape in a fist. “I can’t even wrap my head around that notion. It’s like what? The distance from New York to…I can’t even guess. How long did it take?” She stopped walking, propping herself up with a tree trunk. Her tennis shoe had come untied. “Hang on a second.”

  He dropped to a knee, and once again, she found herself looking into the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. So many shadows. “Over a year,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “That’s how long it took to walk five hundred miles.”

  “Oh!” She shook her head, which seemed to be filled with molten gelatin instead of grey matter. “Um, wow.” She watched as Talen tied her shoe. His fingers worked deftly. Nicely shaped. They were long and tapered, with neatly trimmed nails. And they did some wonderful things to her body sometimes.

  A little gush of warmth rushed through her system.

  He flashed a smile that was so stunning it nearly knocked her to her knees, then pushed to stand. That adorable curl, dripping wet and hanging over the center of his forehead, was screaming for her to play with it. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Somewhat dizzy, she shuffled along beside him, shaking her head. He was something special. Dangerous. Extremely so. Attentive. Striking. Beautiful. She tried to keep their meaningless conversat
ion going, fearing what might come out of her mouth if the topic turned to more serious matters. “A year-long walk. I’d die before I arrived at my destination.”

  “One year’s nothing. Moses and the Hebrews wandered the desert for forty years.”

  “Did they truly? I hate to admit I don’t remember my bible stories very well.”

  He smiled, nodding. “They sure did.”

  Returning his grin, she stopped walking long enough to throw her weight to one hip. Mocking him, she asked, “And you remember this because…were you with them?” As they stood there, rain plunking on their heads, their clothes sticking to their bodies, she noticing his gaze had wandered south a smidge, and having some inkling why, she pulled on the sodden material of her shirt again. She glanced down and sent up a silent thanks that she was wearing black. At least it wasn’t see-through.

  He leaned forward, grasping her hands and pulling them behind her back. He stared down into her eyes for a handful of racing heartbeats. The tip of his tongue swept across his lower lip. Her body tingled as expectation sent warm waves rushing up and down her spine. He jerked on her hands, pulling her flush against him. Soft feminine curves against hard masculine angles. They fit together so perfectly.

  He tipped his head. Lower, lower still.

  Oh yes. Kiss me! She closed her eyes.

  “I was born about three hundred years after Moses led the Hebrews out of Egypt.”

  “Huh?” No kiss? Tease.

  “I just remember the story.” He released her, and she threw her hands out to steady herself. Her knees were wobbly, her head spinny. What this man did to her!

  “Three hundred years after Moses,” she said, not truly comprehending what she was saying. Her mind was occupied by other thoughts. Ones that involved his mouth and hands and a few bits of her anatomy. “That was when?”

  “About 900 BCE.” He took her hand, gently tugging her along as he began walking again.

  “Nine hundred years before Christ? Um, that was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  She studied his profile as they walked. He was amazing from every angle, in every light, wet, dry, standing, sitting. Even when he was talking nonsense, about living thousands of years. “I guess you have seen a lot.”

  His expression darkened. “More than any man should.”

  “More than I think I’d want to.” Silence. She tried to catch her breath, sort through her racing thoughts. “I’m sorry about the curse.”

  The energy between them changed instantly. “It’s done. It just is.”

  He honest-to-God believed there was a curse. Whether he truly believed he was almost three thousand years old was yet to be determined. “How do you deal?”

  “I don’t. I exist. That’s all. And I exist because I can’t do anything else.”

  If curses were real, and people could live for thousands of years, just existing would take a ton of strength. Willpower. More than she had. Such despair, isolation, loneliness. Suffering. Desperation. “I think I’d kill myself,” she muttered.

  “I’d still come back to life.”

  Shit, he heard me. She smacked her hands over her mouth. “That was a stupid thing to say. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He didn’t look upset as he gently pulled her hands from her face. “You’re being real. I think anyone cursed like me would at least think about killing himself.”

  She wanted to ask him if he had thought about suicide, but she couldn’t say the words. It wasn’t right, talking like this. The curse might be all in his head but she knew the suffering and loneliness she saw in his eyes was one hundred percent real.

  Such a good man, too. He deserved so much more in life.

  If only there was some way to help him break free from his belief. Maybe then he could have the happiness he so desperately wanted.

  “This curse seems unbelievably harsh. Nobody could do something so bad that they deserve to suffer like that.”

  “The gods disagree.”

  How could she convince him that his curse wasn’t a punishment delivered by a divine being, but more likely a series of coincidences? She dropped the subject, hoping inspiration would strike later.

  She pointed at the three-story beige building ahead. “Our home-away-from-home. I’m hungry. It’s gotta be close to noon by now, and we haven’t eaten yet. Should we grab something to eat first? We can take it up to our room. I’d like to get out of these wet clothes right away.” She patted the bag she wore slung over her shoulder. “I hope this thing’s waterproof.”

  “Sure. We can do that.”

  They stopped at the closest restaurant, a little Mexican place with a dark, romantic interior and the mouthwatering smell of grilled meat. Every table was packed, waiting diners gathered in the lobby.

  They got lucky, finding two seats at the bar, and the bartender, a short brunette woman, handed them menus. “Hi there. Looks like you two got caught in a downpour.”

  “We sure did,” Talen responded before turning to Keri. “Order whatever you want. I’ve got it covered.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” It was strange, that this place had been there all this time, so close to home, and yet she’d never bothered to check it out before. “Mmmm. I’m starving and something smells really good. How about one of each?” Everything on the menu looked scrumptious. She scooped up a handful of pretzels from the basket the bartender set before them and weighed her options.

  Beside her, Talen chuckled. “If you ate one of each, I’d be impressed.”

  She grinned. “I might not be able to put away this much food, but I can do some serious damage at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I like food.”

  “Yet another reason why I find you adorable.” He leaned over and kissed her, and she couldn’t help—for the briefest moment—feeling like she was simply on a date with a gorgeous guy.

  Then reality slapped her in the face when Talen grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Do we need to leave?” she whispered. Even though she didn’t believe Talen was cursed, his burning neck had been followed by an attack. She was willing to accept that he had some kind of sensitivity or sixth sense to danger that manifested itself in a physical way. No doubt, his work had something to do with it.

  “Huh?” He gave her a bewildered look.

  “Your neck.”

  “Oh.” He dropped his hand and donned a sheepish grin. “It’s a nervous habit, I guess. Nobody’s ever pointed it out to me.” He motioned to the menu in his hand. “Have you been here before?”

  Relieved, she drew in a long, deep breath. “Nope.”

  “What’re you getting, now that you’ve decided you’re not taking everything?”

  “Not sure yet.” She grinned, loving this moment--apart from that tense moment. The glitter in Talen’s eyes, the energy zapping between them, the tension coiling through her body once again. She’d never shared such an intense relationship with anyone before, at least not right out of the gate. Physically, mentally, emotionally, it felt right. She wondered if it was simply because she knew it wouldn’t last forever.

  The bartender set a couple of glasses of water before them, asking, “Are you ready to order yet? Or do you need a few more minutes?”

  “Just a few more. Sorry,” Keri responded.

  The bartender smiled, grabbing a glass off the counter and dumping some ice into it. “Not a problem. Just holler when you’re ready.”

  “Will do.” Keri stared at the menu. “Guess we’d better get down to business.”

  Another chuckle. “There are so many comebacks I could give to that one.”

  “Hah. You are such a man.”

  “And I won’t apologize for it either.” He set down his menu. “I’m ready.”

  Keri did the same. “I guess I am too.”

  Talen flagged down the bartender—who was clearly the queen of multitasking—and they placed their orders. Talen paid the bill with cash. For a few minutes afterward, they sat in comfortable si
lence, watching the bartender dispense alcohol to chattering customers and harried-looking waitresses balancing round trays on their hands.

  Growing weary, just from watching her, Keri decided it was more fun studying the man sitting next to her. He was looking straight ahead, a water glass in his fist, an intense expression on his face.

  That was some face. Handsome, not pretty. Striking eyes. A straight nose that was neither too big nor too small. Lips that were absolutely scrumptious, slightly fuller than the average guy and yet still masculine. And that square jaw, now peppered with dark stubble that made him look a little wild and naughty.

  Stunning.

  He finally seemed to sense she’d been staring at him. He smiled as he turned to look at her, twisting on the swivel seat so his entire body was facing her way. He pushed on the back of her stool, making it turn too, toward him. “You’ve gotten quiet.”

  “Yeah. I guess I have.”

  He parted his bent knees placing them on either side of hers and took her hand in his. “You’re going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Ironically, she didn’t know him but she believed what he said. Not only was she convinced he wouldn’t let anything or anyone physically harm her, but she sensed if he had the chance, he would protect her in all ways. Even emotionally.

  He was extremely attentive. Maybe that was why she felt so differently about him, compared to the other men she’d dated. When he was with her, he was with her. She had a feeling a gorgeous supermodel could walk into the room and he wouldn’t notice. It was wonderful, feeling that important to another human being for once. Beyond wonderful, actually.

  Nodding, she murmured. “Thanks. I mean you saved my life. I owe you. Big time. Nobody’s done much of anything for me in a long time.”

  “That’s just wrong.” He lifted one of her hands to his mouth and kissed her palm. “People should do amazing things for you every day.”

  Embarrassed, but also giddy, she snatched her hand away. “Stop it. I’m nobody special, just a regular girl.”

  “No, you’re wrong. There’s nothing regular about you.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lower lip. “Not your mouth. Or your eyes. Or your…” His gaze traveled lower.

  “Breasts?” she whispered, adjusting her shirt again.