Bodie wasn’t finished with her though, even as Treasure cascaded into a heaven of trembling bliss. He took her mouth with his and before she knew what was happening her legs were wrapped around his hips and he was rising from the floor. He carried her across the cabin and laid her out on the bed.
He lowered himself down next to her and placed his hand over her stomach. Her breathing was still heavy and she was damp with sweat. Feeling him next to her brought on a fresh wave of desire and she reached for him.
Bodie came over the top of her and she spread her legs for him with no coaxing. He slid into her and she was sure she liked this view of him even more.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” he asked.
“If you stop now, I’ll disown you as my friend.”
“Fair enough,” he said and kissed her hard as he pulled back and then slid in again – and again.
Bodie gave all of himself to Treasure and she met him with the same selflessness, holding nothing back. It was something she had never done before with anyone. They fulfilled their hunger for one another as if their sexual appetite couldn’t be satisfied and until they could no longer move. Each was spent, exhausted and completely afloat in orgasmic euphoria.
Bodie gathered her close and kissed her hair. Their hands traveled lazily over one another revisiting the crest of hips, smoothness of backs, and curve of buttocks. Treasure had never felt so relaxed in her life. She began to drift off to sleep and knew her dreams wouldn’t be nearly as good as what she’d just experienced.
“Still friends?” he asked quietly in the half dark.
“I’ll let you know after round three,” she murmured feeling thick-tongued with sleep and comfort.
She listened to a low seductive rumble rise from deep in his chest. It was a sound similar to the one she’d heard him make a few minutes earlier as he reached his peak inside her. It pulled at her lower abdomen and sent a warming tingle straight to her sex. Then he laughed softly under his breath. She felt him shift on the bed next to her and his body heat left her side. The sound of the faucet running was followed by him handing her a glass of water. Treasure rose just enough from the bed to take a long grateful drink of the cold water. She reached over and set the glass down and then rested against the pillow. A few seconds later Bodie laid the soft cotton quilt over her and climbed under. He snuggled in close and wrapped his incredibly strong but gentle arms around her so they lay together as one.
Round three came later, sometime after the blanket of sleep, but before the rising dawn. Afterward, they both knew their friendship had altered, but neither of them could deny the sudden intoxicating attraction to one another.
∞
Bodie woke at sunrise, pulled her in close to his naked body, and kissed her softly on the forehead. He apologized for having to leave early.
Treasure lay in the bed floating in the haze of half-sleep while listening to the shower running and smelled the coffee brewing. Then he was back, murmuring next to her ear about taking care of her shoulder, and turning her phone on so he could call her later.
He said goodbye and left her, the cabin, and Granite Lake behind. She drifted back to sleep wondering how soon she could experience his male magnificence all over again.
Treasure arrived at semi-consciousness some time later, but decided not to join the world just yet. She rolled over in bed and felt like she fully understood bliss. The coffee waited for her in the kitchen and she sighed with contentment. She glanced over toward the front of the cabin and noticed her Christmas present from Bodie sitting on the nightstand. A small pang of remorse twanged inside her – she’d missed her opportunity to open it in front of him.
Treasure pushed herself up and reached for the small box. She held it in her hands for a long time, set it down in her lap to drink some water, and then finally began to unwrap it. She lay the paper and ribbon aside and lifted the lid off the white box. Inside sat a tiny full detail metal motorcycle hanging on a keychain and a single key. The irony of receiving another motorcycle for Christmas didn’t escape her. She knew she had told Bodie her father gave her motorcycles, and she also knew she had never told him she received them for Christmas. She swallowed the lump rising in her throat and lifted the keychain from the box. Cupping it in her palm, she took out a folded sheet of paper tucked inside.
Merry Christmas, Treasure Hope.
I can’t take the Jeep with me and I won’t be there to haul your butt around all winter. Use it until your car is fixed, or until the snow is gone, whichever comes first. Have a great – and safe – winter.
P.S. Don’t ride your motorcycle in bad weather.
See you in May.
Bodie
Treasure climbed out of bed and grabbed her panties and pajamas from the floor. He’d rekindled the fire and its warmth touched her skin as she slipped her clothes on. She crossed the cabin and stood in front of the tall bay windows looking out at the forest, the lake, and a side view of the parking area for their vehicles.
Bodie’s pickup truck no longer sat in the drive, but his Jeep huddled beneath a fresh layer of white powder. The snow storm had passed and the sun shone just above the treetops. The world outside sparkled like it had been freshly sprinkled with diamond dust.
He had given her the key to his Jeep before anything physical happened between them, before her shoulder injury and before he even knew she planned on spending her Christmas vacation at Granite Lake. Did he regret loaning it to her now? Did he regret last night? Would their friendship survive? He’d warned her that she couldn’t handle him. Had he known their sexual compatibility would be off the charts? Treasure already felt different about him. She felt her previously secure emotional barriers cracking as she imagined what it would be like to have Bodie in her life separate from work. She stared at the world outside and wished her thoughts would slow down.
A gust of wind picked up a layer of the glittering powder and tossed it into the air. Fluffy piles of snow blew from the branches and filled the sky with a renewed miniature storm swirling around the cabin. A shower of crystallized flakes pattered against the window in front of her and melted almost instantly against the warm glass. The drops collected and trickled down the window pane like tears. Treasure reached up and wiped a matching tear from her cheek. She didn’t think the tear escaped from sadness. It felt more like uncertainty mixed with hope. Bodie would be back in the spring. Would she be ready to face him? She had four and a half months to figure it out.
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Chapter One
“When you finally marry me, Aspen Morgan, we’ll live right here,” Rook says while lying on his back, daydreaming beneath the perfect sun-drenched sky.
He reaches across our picnic blanket and takes my hand in his. My bones feel delicate in his strong, muscular grip as he tucks it neatly against the front of his chest. His love seems to trickle all the way from his heart down to his fingertips warming my cool skin.
How does the saying go? Cold hands, warm heart? I wish that were the case. But it seems that like Rook’s warm hands, his heart is continually handing out love and affection, and in perfect contras
t, my icy touch resembles the chill that always shadows my heart.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m in love with Rook Avesbury. More in love than I ever thought possible. But life as a Morgan doesn’t include marriage.
What I wouldn’t give to be allowed to let this blossom into the relationship he wants. The relationship we both want. Unfortunately, history, along with the family I was born into, isn’t going to allow Rook and I to have much more than a fling no matter how deeply I long for more.
He releases my hand and pushes himself up. “We’re sitting in the exact spot of our future home. If you want, I’ll make us a porch swing so we can watch the sun set together and then wait for Castor and Pollux to reveal themselves in the night sky.”
I raise a wary eyebrow at him.
“See those trees?” He points to the west where a line of tall pines block the view of the Pacific. “I’ll cut them down and build a barn for Snowdrop and Perry out of the timber. Then nothing will block our view.”
“Rook, you’re too much. You know I love this land, but it’s yours, and I don’t want you making promises when I can’t commit. It’s too soon and I can’t get married.” I’ve been repeating these words for too long and too many times. Maybe not out loud, but at least in my own mind. Months have flittered by when I meant to end things with him after the first few weeks. How have I let this continue for so long? I’ve lost count of the days—and the months. Life has become like the dance of the whirling dervish since Rook found me on the beach walking Basil.
“Nothing is too much for you. If you don’t want to live here with me after I get back from the astronomy internship, then we can go wherever you want. I’d live in Quebec, or Yugoslavia, or even on the far side of Jupiter as long as you agree to let me come with you.”
“Does Jupiter have a backside? I know he has an eye, but the anatomy of a planet is out of my scope of knowledge. And we wouldn’t want to move there without checking out the neighborhood and the schools.”
“You’re a very funny girl, aren’t you?” he says, not a bit amused. “Now listen to me,” he adds, his voice becoming more serious. “Callisto and Europa will have to wait a few years. We’ll get settled right here on the northwest coast and then we’ll see about traveling to worlds beyond our imagination.”
“Who in heaven’s name are Callisto and Europa?” I ask, feigning naiveté. We both know that astronomy and astrology are two subjects that any respectable witch cannot escape, having had them shoved down her throat from the time she is old enough to glance up at the stars.
He raises a stern but sensible brow at me, and the corner of his mouth almost cracks with the good-natured humor that I know is his normal mind-set. But he hangs in there and doesn’t break character just yet. “Okay. I take it back. The moons of Jupiter would hardly be a suitable place for the love of my life. You’ll have to adjust to living on my land where you can have all the freedoms of the forest and the sea. It’ll be a sacrifice, I know, but I have faith in you.”
I smack his thigh playfully with the back of my hand for being facetious and silly. Sometimes I think the man was born in the wrong time. I’m not sure what period in history he should have been born in, but the twenty-first century doesn’t seem appropriate for such a sappy romantic.
He captures my hand once more and presses his lips to my knuckles. All I can do is give him a bemused smile and then look away attempting to hide my regret. How can I begin to tell him the women in my family don’t get married? We don’t settle down to raise children with the men of our dreams. All the Morgan women for as long as anyone can remember have been single. There are a few stories about great loves, but the greater the love, the more profound the loss. How could I do that to Rook? Just look at those eyes. Full of promises and dreams and a hope for a future that I can’t give him. He doesn’t deserve tragedy. He doesn’t deserve me.
“Aspen, why is this the part that always makes you clam up? What is it you’re not saying? I know you. You don’t think that after seven months I know you as well as I claim to, but the truth is, I knew you from the second I looked into your golden-brown eyes. You were smitten with me, and trying not to show it, but I could see straight through you that day on the beach, and I still can.”
Is it fair that Rook is so sensitive? How can a man with such strength and power, and with a body the gods would envy, be so perceptive as well? He shouldn’t be allowed to have so many positive attributes. Although, if you were to ask him, he’d say his sensitivity was a negative quality, not a positive one. Most people don’t make accurate assessments about the gifts they’re given in life and Rook is no exception.
I try to explain. “The best human faults don’t hurt others. Like self-sabotage. Only one person gets injured. But then there’s me. I have the other kind of flaw. The kind that causes tears and misunderstanding. I can’t be in a committed relationship, Rook. And I can’t tell you why, other than to say I’m not the marrying kind of girl.” There are too many words coming out of my mouth, but not enough clarification. The real explanation can’t be said aloud. I’m making the situation between us worse so I shut my trap and refuse to bury myself deeper in the mire of miscommunication.
His eyes implore mine and I have to look away. He doesn’t admit his observations often, so I know this must be heavy on his mind.
“You’re already committed to me. Don’t try to deny it. You haven’t looked at a single suitor since we met.”
I know he can see the truth in me. It’s wonderful and unnerving. There’s nothing about me that I could ever hide from him because he would know. And the fact that I know he sees me for who I really am and still loves me, is the most freeing experience I have ever had. He understands me. I like that there isn’t anything standing between us. Except for one glaring, monumental thing. The one and only thing I can’t talk about.
“Suitor? Really? Haven’t we discussed your use of the English language and how you really should adopt a slightly more modern version?”
“You adore my proper English.”
“‘Proper.’ That’s another word most twenty-seven-year-olds don’t use in this country.”
“You know I don’t have to do anything that any other man my age would normally do. Which is why, I assume, I ended up courting a member of the Morgan clan.”
“We’re not a clan. And yes, you’re somewhat contradictory to most of the guys I know.”
“Most of the men in this part of the continent are not wizards either, so my ranking should move up twice if I’m calculating correctly.”
I narrow my eyes at his assumption that his magical abilities outweigh those of non-magic users. “I’ll have you know that I don’t date wizards exclusively,” I say, acting appalled by the notion that I might be prejudiced.
“But I do earn extra points for it,” he says with certainty.
“I don’t think so. Your ability to see my true motivations and the inner workings of my female mind aren’t necessarily a benefit.” I lean away from him like maybe I should increase the space between us to protect my female right to be misguided and indecisive.
His sensuous mouth spreads into a humorous grin. “You turn our talk around and around, avoiding at all cost the real reason I’ve brought you out here today. But, I’ve seen our future, Aspen, and you can’t escape it. We will be sharing this life. I want to marry you. The internship is twelve long months and the rules are quite strict. No one is allowed to visit unless they are family. A fiancé would be considered family. How will we survive an entire year without each other? We’re getting married so you can come to Venezuela and Chile while I work on expanding my mind and learning about our vast universe.”
I tilt my face up to the glistening sun, stretching my neck and back. Closing my eyes, I think to myself that I won’t be going anywhere because I will never marry Rook. If only I had the courage to cut the cord now. Would that solve my problem? Can I quit this amazing man and survive? Is this how my mom felt when she lost my father? She didn
’t live through the experience. It killed her. Aurora Morgan died from the consequences of a broken heart, and her only daughter would not suffer the same fate.
But the words fail me. They were pouring out of my mouth a minute before and now I can’t say five measly words out loud. I’m breaking up with you.
I feel Rook shift on the blanket next to me as my eyes begin to sting and a glob of emotion gets stuck in my throat. Being a female member of the Morgan family means you are born with baggage strapped to your back like an anchor and there is no way to be rid of it.
“Darling,” he says in his most seductive tone of voice. “Let me show you something.”
“I don’t think you should…” The past seven months have been mind-blowingly spectacular. Of course I couldn’t have ended this any sooner. No sane person would ever stop loving someone right in the middle of bliss. Yet my brain is telling me to tell him that we can’t do this anymore. Why is he pushing for marriage? Why can’t we have fun and then call it quits when he leaves for his internship?
He scoots up behind me and I feel his long legs on either side of me. I smell the woodshop on him mixed with horses and just the slight crispness of pine forest. His body radiates heat and I lean back against his chest.
Had I known that love could make me this weak, I would have run away from him on the day we met. Weakness is what killed my parents and here I am falling into the same trap.
“You know it’s illegal to use magic on someone without their permission,” I say, relishing in the feeling of his muscled torso pressed against my back.
“You’ll not falsely accuse me of doing anything wrong here. I am but offering you a gift.”
“Really? I would swear you’re altering my mind and making it hard to live without you.”
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