Caroline moistened her lips. “These are all pre-sold?”
“Yes. Fifty-three at last count. Those that require personalizing—I was told you’d personalize?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“They’re labeled with Post-its. Your publicist indicated this is the brand of pen—”
“Just stop a second.” Caroline dumped her briefcase, sat down at a stool at the counter. “I’ve never sold over a hundred new titles at a signing.”
“You’re about to break your record.”
“I see that. Just as I see you have the pen I like, and that there were pink roses, my favorite, on the signing table.”
“Wait till you see the cake.”
“Cake?” Caroline seemed flabbergasted. “You have cake? You sent me bubble bath and candles, and were at the ferry to meet me.”
“As I said, we’re thrilled to have you.”
“Not finished yet. Your store, which is amazing, by the way, is full of people, and an unbelievable number of them are holding my books. And you hate me because I said something careless, rude, and stupid.”
“No. I was annoyed with you because you said something careless, rude, and stupid. But I don’t hate you for it.” Mia moved to the door to take the soft drink from Pam.
“And because I was once involved, romantically, with Sam.”
“Yes.” Her tone pleasant, Mia offered the drink. “Naturally I hate you for that.”
“And that’s fair.” Caroline sipped her soft drink. “But since Sam and I haven’t been anything but friends for more than four years, and I’m happily married. . . .” She wiggled the fingers of her left hand. “And, since he’s hung up on you, who happen to be beautiful, smart, younger than I am, and who has those really fabulous shoes, I get to hate you more.”
Mia considered her for a moment. “That seems entirely reasonable.” She handed Caroline a pen. “I’ll open these for you.”
Four hours later, Mia was in her office tallying figures. When the publisher called on Monday for a follow-up on the event, she was going to knock their socks off.
Nell came in, dropped into a chair, and patted the belly she was sure had started to round. “That was great. That was outstanding. That was exhausting.”
“I noticed that even with free refreshments, the café did a brisk business.”
“Tell me about it.” Nell yawned hugely. “Did you want to do totals?”
“We’ll wait until closing for those. However, I do have the totals for the Trump books that sold during her appearance.”
“And they are?”
“New title, including pre-solds? Two hundred and twelve. Paper backlist, also including pre-solds? Three hundred and three.”
“No wonder she walked out of here looking shell-shocked. Congratulations, Mia. She was terrific, wasn’t she? Funny and warm during the book discussion. I really liked her.”
“Yes.” Mia tapped a pen on the edge of her desk. “So did I. She used to be involved with Sam.”
“Oh.” Nell straightened in the chair. “Oh.”
“After meeting her, it’s easy to see why he was attracted. She’s very clever, urban, energetic. I’m not jealous.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“I’m not jealous,” Mia repeated. “I just wish I hadn’t liked her quite so much.”
“Why don’t you come home with me? We’ll sit around, talk about men, and eat hot fudge sundaes.”
“I’ve already gone way over my sugar intake for the day, which is probably why I’m still edgy. You go on. I’ve got to finish here. Then I’m going home to sleep for twelve hours.”
“If you change your mind, I have homemade fudge sauce.” Nell pushed herself to her feet. “You did an amazing job, Mia.”
“We did. We did a stupendous job.”
She turned back to her keyboard and worked until six. Sticking to practical tasks gave her mind the chance to circle and circle and consider. And it gave her the opportunity to admit that the buzz still vibrating through her wasn’t going to quiet on its own.
Given the alternatives to select from, she saw no reason not to choose the one that appealed most.
Sam stripped down to cutoffs and considered the cartons of leftover takeout Chinese in his refrigerator. He was, as he had been all day, famished. He thought he might order in a pizza, or a side of beef to top off the egg rolls and pork fried rice.
He was relieved that Caroline had turned down his invitation to dinner. As fond as he was of her, his brain just couldn’t handle an evening of struggling to concentrate on conversation.
Not after the day he’d put in. Or the night before it.
He’d swum for an hour, hard, after he helped Zack haul all the equipment back to the house on the bluff. Then he’d swung by the hotel on the way home and let himself into the health club. He’d worked out another hour, doing what he could to burn off the edge. He’d done fifty laps in the hotel pool, taken a frigid shower.
And hadn’t slept all night.
After the signing, he’d taken Caroline back to the hotel, where she’d claimed she was going to take a long bubble bath. He’d used the health club again, worked up a heavy sweat. Showered. Spent an hour swimming.
And his system was still careening.
He disliked sleep inducements, even of his own making, but he thought, after he ate, that that was the only solution left.
The only practical solution, he corrected. The more satisfying one would be to find Mia, drag her off somewhere, rip off her clothes, and pump out the energy in wild, crazy sex.
Which would take him right back to square one of his plan to cement a bond with her outside of wild, crazy sex.
He wasn’t sure his overworked system could take either.
He’d settle for pizza.
He closed the refrigerator and turned toward the phone. And when he saw her at the back door, his entire body clenched like a fist.
Served him right, he thought grimly, for trying to tame his raging hormones by tuning her out for a few hours.
But his expression was as easy and pleasant as hers as he crossed to the door.
“Didn’t expect to see you. I thought you’d be somewhere with your feet up and a drink in your hand.”
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”
“Not at all.” He opened the screen door and willed himself to behave.
“I brought you a present.” She held out a box, prettily wrapped in dark blue foil and topped with an elaborate white bow. “From the owner of Café Book to the owner of the Magick Inn.” She came in, making sure her body brushed his lightly as she passed.
And she felt the quick tremor.
“A gift.”
“To thank you for your part in making today happen. It was an enormous success for all involved.”
“Caroline was nearly staggering by the time she got to her room. It takes a lot to wear her out.”
“I’m sure you’d know,” Mia countered.
“She’s married. We’re friends. That’s it.”
“Touchy.” She clucked her tongue. “Why don’t you offer me a drink, and have one yourself?”
“Fine.” He got out a bottle of wine, yanked out the stopper. “I had a damn life the last decade, Mia. I assume you did, too.”
“Naturally. Would you like me to parade some of my lovers for you?” Helpfully, she took glasses out of the cupboard. The searing look he shot her pleased her enormously.
He’d be easier, and more fun to seduce, if his temper was up.
“I don’t want to hear about them. And I didn’t parade Caroline.”
“No, but you didn’t tell me beforehand, either. It made it awkward and irritating. But I’ve decided to forgive you.”
“Well, golly. Thanks.”
“Now you’re annoyed. Why don’t I pour that, and you can open your present? We’ll see if it puts you in a better mood.”
“Rapping your head against the wall might put me in a better mood.”
; “But you’re much too civilized for that.”
“Don’t go to the bank on it.” But he pulled off the top of the box. And pulled out a wind chime made of foolish brass frogs.
“I found it whimsical, which suits the cottage. And apt, as I had a lovely fantasy going about how I turned you into one of these for a few days.” She tapped a frog, sent it dancing and singing against its brothers. Then picked up her wine.
“It’s very . . . unique. Whenever I see it, I’ll think of you.”
“There’s a hook just outside the kitchen. Why don’t you hang it, see how it looks there?”
Obliging her, he stepped outside, looped it over the empty hook.
“You smell of the sea,” she told him, trailing a fingertip down the center of his bare back.
“I’ve been swimming.”
“Did it help?”
“No.”
“I could.” She leaned against him, nibbled at his shoulder. “Why don’t we help each other?”
“Because then it’s all about sex.”
“What’s wrong with sex?”
She was clouding his senses. Woman’s magic. He turned, gripped her arms. “We used to have more. I want more again.”
“We’re both old enough to know we don’t get everything we want. So we take what there is.” She spread her hands over his chest, felt surprise when he stepped back. “You want me, I want you. Why complicate it?”
“It’s always been complicated, Mia.”
“So we simplify. I need a release from what happened last night. So do you.”
“We need to talk about what happened last night.”
“You’re a real fan of talking lately.” She tossed back her hair. “Nell has this notion that you’re courting me.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “That’s not a word I’d use. I’d say ‘dating.’ I’ve been dating you.”
“In that case—” She crossed her arms, slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders. And let it slither to the floor. “We’ve dated long enough.”
Seventeen
He’d have sworn the world stopped. For one rushing moment there was no sound, no movement. There was nothing but Mia, tall and curved and beautiful. All alabaster and fire, she wore only a slim silver chain that nestled a moonstone between her breasts and an anklet made up of tiny Celtic knots above shoes that were no more than a trio of narrow straps and stiletto heels.
His mouth watered.
“You want me.” Her voice was a low feline purr. “Your body aches as mine does. Your blood’s as hot.”
“Wanting you has always been the easy part.”
She stepped to him. “Then this should be a snap.” She ran her hands up his torso, over his chest. “You’re trembling.” Easing closer, she rubbed her lips over his shoulder, over muscles that were tensed rock-hard. “So am I.”
His hands flexed, fisted. “This is your answer?”
“I don’t need an answer when I don’t have a question.” She lifted her head until their eyes met. “I have needs, just as you do. Desires, hot and restless inside me. As you do. We can both take what we need, and harm no one.”
She leaned in, nipped sharply at his bottom lip. “Let’s take a walk in the woods.”
When he jerked her hard against him, her face lit with triumph. A quick, laughing moan escaped when he swung her into his arms. The moment of victory was hot and sweet.
“Here,” he said. “In this house. In my bed.”
Needs bubbling inside her clouded her mind, only for an instant. But an instant was enough to have him striding through the kitchen before she struggled. “No, not here.”
“It can’t be all your way.”
“I won’t be with you here.” The minute she hit the bed, she rolled, but he pinned her.
“Yes, you will.”
She fought him. Pure instinct had her bucking under him, straining against his hold. She could smell the lavender she’d planted outside the window, and the sweetness of it tore at her heart.
She hadn’t come for sweetness, nor for intimacy. She had come for sex.
She gathered herself, reached for composure and derision. “All you’ve proved is that you have superior strength.”
“Yeah. That’s the breaks,” he said. Her voice might have been cold, but the heat was pumping off her skin. “I’m not letting you go this time, Mia. Considering the mood we’re both in, you fighting me is only going to make this better. So, fight me.” He yanked her arms over her head. “I don’t want it easy. And I don’t want it fast.”
He handcuffed her wrists and used his mouth on her.
She continued to struggle, because he was right. She could damn him for it, but he was right. The underlying threat of violence added a slippery thrill that fed the reckless need inside her. She could hate herself for wanting that, for the part of her that reveled in being overpowered, undone, taken. But she couldn’t deny it.
He ravished, his mouth assaulting her body. The little war had her skin springing with sweat and her senses tangling into one mass of molten pleasure. Her body twisted, arched, but he simply found new spots to torture and entice.
The energy that burned inside her whipped to flash point, ripped a cry from her throat as he drove her to the first brutal climax with his mouth alone.
And that quick and glorious release only fueled a hunger for more.
He felt her body quake, heard her breath catch. Beneath his lips her pulse beat like fury. Her flesh was damp and fragrant, erotically hot and slick. Knowing that she fought them both only added to the vicious passion surging through his blood.
He rode it, recklessly, until they were both quivering.
When his mouth conquered hers, the kiss was a kind of madness. There was no thought, no room for reason. In a war of lips and tongues and teeth, they fed on each other. When he felt her fly a second time, he released her hands to take more.
They branded each other, rolling restlessly over the bed in a search for dominance and more pleasure. The air went thick, and the sun streaming through the windows turned to gilt.
She rose over him. Craving her, he reared up, clamping his mouth over her breast. Drawing her in like breath.
She lost herself in the frenzy of sensation. Gave herself to that feral need to take and be taken. Here there was only desperation, and the one man who could make her feel it. The glory of those animal urges, the mindless wonder of being alive raced inside her.
Time quickened, then sprinted past her, as the storm inside her broke yet again.
Breathless, still spinning, she wrapped herself around him, holding on as if for her life. Her heart quaked, and threatened to break open.
She heard his harsh murmurs as his body slid over hers, as his lips skittered over her face, her throat. She shook her head, quick denial, as the Gaelic stroked her aching heart.
Light, warm and blue, pulsed from him.
“No. Don’t.”
He couldn’t stop. What they’d brought to each other sapped his control. The need to complete the intimacy was raw and open in him.
“A ghra. A amhain.” My love. My only. The words tumbled out of him without design. His power shimmered, seeking its mate even as his body craved. But when he brushed his lips over her cheek, tasted tears, he squeezed his eyes shut.
“I’m sorry.” His breath ragged, he buried his face in her hair. “Just a minute. Give me a minute.”
He fought for control, to pull the magic back inside him. Whatever they were or had been to each other, he had no right to force her to share that part of herself.
She felt him quiver as he struggled to pull it in. It would hurt him, she knew. A deep and physical aching that came from denying the blood and starving the soul.
Still, he held her while he locked himself away. Held her while she listened to his breath tear out against the pain of it.
She couldn’t bear it, for either of them.
She lifted his head, looked into his eyes. And gave him her magic. �
�Share with me,” she said, drawing him down into the kiss. “Share all.”
Her light was gilded red against his deepening blue. The brilliant thrill flooded her, swamped her as their powers entwined and merged. And merged, streamed inside them both. She let herself fly on it, rose to him as he filled her.
There was a rush like the wind, a stream of sound like a hundred harpstrings plucked at once. The air swelled. All she was, and all he was, laid open.
The air shimmered, light against light building to a radiant glow. Even as he moved in her, long, slow thrusts that savored the gift, he took her hands. Linked fingers curled tight and sparks swirled from them to dance in the air.
As they climbed, the light brightened, building, building toward a flash that burst like lightning. And on that burst, he met her mouth with his, and flew with her.
He nuzzled at the curve of her shoulder, rubbed his cheek to hers, whispering soft and foolish endearments. His power continued to whisper inside her as well. Her body felt unbearably soft. And though her heart continued to pound, she knew its beat was no longer for her alone.
What had she done?
She’d stripped aside, by her own will, the last of her defenses. She had given him all she was, taken all he was.
She had let herself love him again.
Stupid, she thought. Stupid, careless, and dangerous.
Even knowing it, she could lie here with his weight pressing against her and want to gather him close and cling to the dreamy echoes of what they’d shared.
She had to get away, clear her head of him. And consider what to do next.
She lifted a hand to his shoulder, intending to nudge him away. But her fingers slid into his hair.
“Mia.” His voice was thick and sleepy. “Allaina. So soft, so lovely. Stay with me tonight. Wake with me tomorrow.”
Her heart trembled, but when she spoke her voice was brisk and even. “You’re speaking Gaelic.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re speaking in Gaelic.” Now she did give his shoulder a little nudge. “Which means you’re about to fall asleep on top of me.”
“No, I’m not.” He braced himself on his elbows so he could gaze down at her. “You make my head spin.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “I’m glad you dropped by.”
Books by Nora Roberts Page 226