by London Casey
Well, according to her boss, Geri, she needed one. And like it or not, she was getting one.
Dumping the pile of bloodied and soiled clothing into the laundry room hamper, Eden strolled gloriously naked into the luxurious bathroom. The blast of massaging showerheads eased his tense and aching muscles. The woman had put up quite a struggle—funny, his muscles were tight from working out yesterday morning, rather than the grisly business he’d been about only hours before. A perfect smile of perfect, straight white teeth split his lips. It had been the best hunt ever, though too short, too quick. And, like his smile, perfect. Guaranteed to loosen even the most stubborn bloodstains, he washed with the special soap he favored and watched the dried blood mix with steaming hot water and flow down the drain in a froth of pink-tinged bubbles. Eden lathered up again. A deep contentment stole over him as he inhaled. The fragrance was simply inspirational—a blend of vanilla and sandalwood. It was his female’s favorite scent. No surprise, since she was the one who’d taught him how to make it.
“Beloved?”
“Yes, my dear?” he called over his shoulder, wishing she would leave him alone so he could make his dinner date on time. Truthfully, he couldn’t really call it a date, since the woman he planned to meet had no idea he would be joining her. The hunt had taken all damned day. He was in a hurry and now was no time to chatter.
Dressed in classic black dress slacks, tailored black dinner jacket, a crisp white silk shirt and black silk tie, he strode out into the living room. Not bothering to sit down to draw his hand, Eden’s long strong fingers stretched toward the deck of gold and black Egyptian tarot cards stacked neatly in the middle of the coffee table. The card on top was snatched up and tossed to the center of the table. The III card—The Empress. Quirking his head to the side, Eden spoke to his faithful companion.
“Why is she upside down? I’ve never drawn The Empress card upside down before.” Actually, he’d never drawn the Empress in any case. A strange chill chased down his spine as he took in the regal form and features of the dark golden goddess pictured on the card.
“I am sure it is nothing, beloved. Come, kiss me before you go about tonight’s business.”
Eden walked over to the display case and gently lifted his most prized possession down from her glass perch.
“Hurry, beloved.” The sweet caress of her voice eased over his soul like the soothing warmth of a summer sun shower sweeping across the fertile Nile plains. Strange how that same voice sometimes bordered on sheer annoyance. “Kiss me, so you may go and return to me again.”
Running his fingers over the smooth cool skin of her arms, he looked deeply into the dark, almond-shaped eyes. He loved the charcoal outline on her lids and brows, and the slim angular classic Egyptian features. Eden kissed the pharaoh gently on the top of her head, his emotions catapulting between excitement and sadness. He tucked his nose beneath her chin, careful not to disturb the pharaoh’s headdress, an exquisite lapis and gold rearing cobra settled low over her brow.
He knew she cared for him, but while he’d followed all of her advice, he was no fool and was well aware of her true intentions. Every female she’d directed him to dispense justice upon seemed the perfect lover for one of the males in his harem. She wanted to be the only one to rule their little clan and would do whatever it took to see that it stayed that way. After all, she had the spirit of a man, thus was she pharaoh. Not a queen, but a king.
Thoughts turned to the woman he’d spotted boarding the ship in Lisbon yesterday afternoon. Now she was the perfect Egyptian queen. A couple of evenings past, he’d managed to accidentally run into her at one of the ship’s restaurants. Tonight, he hoped to bump into her again.
While the beauty had been dressed inappropriately for his tastes, he couldn’t help but admire her form—and such an itty-bitty thing, perhaps five foot three at the most. Shapely legs teased him from the hem of her sleeveless little black dress down to her cute little sandal-clad toes. Broad shoulders and toned arms supported full, inviting breasts that tapered down to a trim waist. When she’d excused herself to run to the ladies’ room, he’d watched every step. Her hips flared lusciously and her ass was indescribably tempting. Round, wide and firm would do for starters. His fingers itched just thinking about touching all that caramel skin. Delicious.
When she’d turned and laid a stunning smile on him, his breathing had deepened on the spot as all the blood in his torso streaked down to his groin. Beauty was too tame a word—the woman was exquisitely breathtaking. Thick black hair was a riot of twists and curls all over her head. He didn’t typically like short hair on a woman, but this woman’s shiny, healthy-looking waves looked just perfect for running his fingers through. Her eyes were a mix of light brown and gold, contrasting against her dark skin. In the end, he couldn’t decide what color they were, only that they were just as lovely as the rest of her.
And the aura emanating from her pulsed with life. Chrysalyn was her name. And she was perfect for bearing strong sons.
Beloved?
The voice bounced him out of his reverie. He looked down at the one who called him beloved. The rare creation cradled in his hands was impeccable and unique. Her long braids and golden winged breastplate were indicative of her heritage—a goddess, a daughter of pharaohs. But even her loveliness paled when compared to Chrysalyn, whose very name referred to new life. No, he simply could not allow his harem mistress to ruin his plans to mate another. And Chrysalyn would be that woman.
With that firmly in his mind, he stood and cast a final glance at the tarot card on the table as he made his way across the room. He placed the harem mistress back into the glass display case with his other unique creations.
Her voice trickled over him once more.
“Enjoy your dinner. Until tonight, beloved.”
On the way out, he looked back at the beautiful work of porcelain perfection and blew her a kiss. Headed for the on-board Japanese restaurant, his step quickened as his thoughts filled with the possibilities between him and the female he was hopefully on his way to meet.
Chapter Two
Jerked out of a sound sleep, Chrysalyn’s eyes flew open as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Lying perfectly still, surrounded by a pile of oversized pillows and warm blankets, she looked around the empty bedroom. There was no sound except the muted splash of the ocean’s waves against the hull as the huge ship cut through the water.
She sighed with a bit of frustration mixed with relief. At least they were on the way somewhere and not still sitting in port, as they had the last couple of days since she’d boarded.
“Adonei? Adonei, come to me,” she silently whispered. Seconds ticked by. No answer. No Adonei.
Where the hell was that damned lion? In all the long years he’d watched over and guided her, he’d never failed to come when summoned.
Well, spirit guide or not, her innate senses told her something was wrong. Reaching out along the psychic bond they shared, she tried again, calling quietly, but firmly, in her mind.
Annoyed, Chrys gave up on the psychic thing and opened her mouth. “Adonei, get here already,” she snapped on an impatient whisper.
Finally, the still air shimmered and shifted next to the bed as Adonei appeared shaking his wild mane on a loud, wide-mouthed yawn. Chrysalyn was glad no one else could hear the racket. Lord, he had a big mouth, all sharp teeth and power. Glad he was on her side, she smiled with genuine affection at her companion as the moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass deck doors, reflecting off his two-and-a-half-inch canines. Adonei—African lion and male to the bone. No wonder this creature was the king of beasts.
*Chrysalyn, what is it now? Surely you did not summon me to this plane to complain about your three-month rest again?*
Okay, so he was a cynical king of beasts.
‘Adonei, I heard something. Well, not actually heard, but definitely felt. Someone’s in here.’
He didn’t say a word. No change of expression, no smart-assed
remark, nothing. Now she definitely knew something was going on. Fine, she’d just have to see for herself.
‘Adonei, lend me your sight.’
*Take what I offer,* he yawned.
Geesh, was he ever rattled by anything? Guess not.
Keeping her eyes open and focused on her bedroom door, Chrysalyn embraced Adonei’s gifts as they flowed warm and comforting underneath her skin before sinking into her blood. The strength and power of the lion burst forth and filled her. Human eyes took on superhuman clarity as the dim shadows of the night receded and all became perfectly clear. Whispering an unladylike, but appropriate, blue streak of curses, she grumbled under her breath and climbed out of bed. Whoever had disturbed her sleep would royally pay for it. On bare feet, she eased her way across the room to the sliding glass door that opened onto the private deck.
The metal handle was cool against her fingers as she slid the door open. Thankfully, it was well-oiled and moved silently along its rails. Poking her head through the small opening, she eyed the entire length of the moonlit deck before stepping out into the balmy night. All was quiet. The pitch-black sky overhead was blanketed with a sea of stars so vast it rivaled the twinkling of the moon off the surface of the water stretching out before the ship. If she hadn’t been scooting across the deck in the middle of an emergency, she would have sank down into the nearest cushioned deck chair and slipped back into her dreams under those stars.
But nooo! Instead of enjoying the relaxing atmosphere, the lull of the waves, the pearlescent glow of the moon, she had to kick someone’s ass tonight for breaking into her apartment.
Kneeling down, she peeked through the far deck door into the dim living room.
“Oh, you just wait,” she ground out between clenched teeth, her spiking temper directed at the dark shadow easing into the guest bedroom. Her head cocked sideways in surprise when the shadow reappeared and moved toward her closed bedroom door.
She eased the glass door open a crack, thankful for the lack of sea breeze. The last thing she needed was for the drapes to billow and warn the bastard of his impending ass-kicking.
The second his head disappeared through the opening of her bedroom door, the living room pane slid all the way open and Chrysalyn flew toward the encroacher on silent feet.
The closer she got to the shadow, the more it stretched toward the high ceilings. It was a man, and whoever he was, he was tall and well-built. Fine, she’d just have to take him down hard and fast. Damn it, now she wished she’d asked Adonei for his strength instead of just his exceptional sight. But she didn’t have time for that now.
With a well-aimed kick at the common peroneal nerve running along the intruder’s right leg, she struck out with all her strength. In a fraction of a second, the leg went numb and buckled, unable to support the man’s weight. As he went down, a solid uppercut connected with his jaw, followed by a lightning-fast left to the mouth. But before she could finish him, Chrysalyn found herself wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs, and heading swiftly toward a meeting with the hardwood floor. The intruder rolled with her until the legs of the coffee table blocked their progress, with him on top. Damn.
She looked up into a handsome face a mere three inches from her own. Holy shit! Even in the dark, there was no mistaking the perpetrator’s identity. After three years apart, there still wasn’t another male who looked like this. Felt like this. Smelled like this.
“Rahn!” she gasped, from both shock and exertion. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“At the moment, I’m bleeding. How are you, Chrysalyn?”
Oooh, and his voice was still dead sexy. Double damn!
“Rahn? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, now that you’ve asked so sweetly,” he huffed sarcastically, a bit winded by their tussle. At least his leg was beginning to get the feeling back. Ow! His ribs hurt too. She’d kicked the shit out of him. He took as deep a breath as he was able, and said, “I have a case to close in Rome. Since the ship was headed there anyway, Geri thought I might enjoy a little holiday first. It’s been awhile since the last one.”
“Vacation? Here? With me?” The woman was practically screeching. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was nervous about him sharing the huge apartment. He’d have to ask his spirit guide about it later. Man, she felt good underneath him. Time to move before he gave away just how good she felt. Rolling away, he immediately missed the warmth of her body.
“This is the company’s apartment. With three bedrooms and a couple thousand square feet, it’s more than big enough. Our boss figured you wouldn’t mind.”
On his feet now, Rahn headed for the nearest couch. A glance over his shoulder made his body shudder. The woman was still spread-eagled on her back. Her itty-bitty nightshirt didn’t cover much, bunched up just below her sex as it was. He cocked his head and spoke silently to his spirit guide.
‘Mahpiya, lend me your senses.’
Immediately, the lioness’s gifts flooded into him. Ooh, big mistake. He tightened his thigh muscles, trying to keep from coming on the spot when his eyesight sharpened and Mahpiya’s sharp sense of smell flooded through his body until it became his own. His eyes took in the sleek, smooth length of Chrysalyn’s lovely legs. His nose told him she lay sprawled on the floor, minus any kind of panties. The scent of her pussy wafted through the air and practically sucked all the common sense right out of his head. Sweet, deliciously sensual, her scent was reminiscent of honeysuckle and dark red wine.
“Shit,” he grumbled, realizing the couch wasn’t nearly far enough away from her. He eased toward a chair clear across the huge room. He flopped down into the overstuffed cushions, snatched a pillow from behind his head and smashed it down over a suddenly painful erection. Where the hell had the hard-on from hell come from?
*Did you not ask for my aid, my charge?*
‘Oh shut it, Mahpiya,’ he quipped at his psychic companion. Damned cat had no mercy.
*Do not be angry with me, youngling. I gave you just what you asked for. ‘Tis no fault of mine you received more than you bargained for.*
Then she laughed! How the hell did a lioness laugh anyway? Damn it, she was supposed to be his spirit guide, not his tormenter.
*You torment yourself, young one.*
Rahn was thankful when she retreated into a small corner of his mind to nap. But not before she sent a genuinely amused and toothy grin through their psychic bond. Damned cat.
Chrys’ words broke through his thoughts. “So, why are you going to Rome?”
His eyes were drawn toward the lovely body projecting the silky voice across the room. Lifting his head, he glanced her way. Shit, she was still on the floor, only now her arms were crossed behind her head as she looked toward the clear glass doors that led out to the deck.
“Rahn? Did you hear me?”
Hell no, he hadn’t heard her. He was too busy trying to drown out the blood rushing through his ears as it streaked toward his dick.
“What did you say? My head hurts from the pounding you did on it. Hard to focus,” he lied—about the focus part, not about the pounding. He watched her roll up from the floor and stomp her way to the chair across from him. She flopped down in it, completely nonplussed, comfortable in her practically bare skin and obviously unaware how delicious she looked.
“I asked what you’re going to be doing in Rome, Rahn,” she said.
Okay, time to get his head together to make this lie sound convincing. As much as he hated to tell her half-truths, if the woman ever found out the nature of the case he was on his way to solve, he’d never be able to keep her nose out of it.
“There have been a string of murders there. They seem to be centered around a certain area. The international police have asked us to look into it for them. Less complicated if we investigate the matter, since our organization flies well below the radar.” The last few words were said with a grunt as he shifted on the chair and tried to rearrange his cock in his pants.
&nbs
p; “So,” he gasped as his fingers wrapped around his raging hard-on, pushing it to the left. “How’s that gorgeous cousin of yours?”
“Delaine? She’s fine. Getting married soon.”
Now that snapped him and his cock to attention. Delaine Jeris was getting remarried? Whoever had landed that beauty was a lucky man. Rahn was glad she’d finally let go of that idiot she’d been married to for so long and moved on. Everyone in their agency had been tempted to help the asshole have a little accident after word got around about what he’d done to Delaine. If their boss, Geri, hadn’t expressly forbade any late-night ass-kickings for the man, he would have been nothing but a pile of sore bones for ages to come.
“She met someone soon after she moved out to Charlotte,” Chrysalyn said, her voice somewhat wispy, as if she longed for something. But she was getting married herself. So why did she sound so…forlorn?
“Speaking of married,” Rahn said quietly, watching her closely. “You’ve been engaged for a while now. When is your big date?”
As quickly as she’d sat down, she was back on her feet. Back stiff with what could only be a major case of ticked off, she stomped across the floor, into her bedroom and slammed a solid wood door on him without a word.
“Well, hell, that didn’t go as planned,” he grumbled to himself.
Mahpiya’s powerful presence surged to the forefront of his mind until he could see the outline of her majestic feline form just behind his eyes.
*Do not fret, my charge. It is not your fault. She is lonely.*
“Lonely?” What the hell kind of sense did that make? The woman was getting married. How could she be lonely?
*She is lonely because she is not getting married. She is alone and in need of comfort.*
His eyebrows rose so fast, surely they would fly off his face and hit the ceiling. With narrowed eyes and more than a bit of serious curiosity, he practically growled at his psychic companion.