Joss’ hand on his shoulder pulled him back to the present. His commander’s brow was furrowed, his silver eyes assessing.
“Lann, Maya has brought the vehicle around. Let’s go.”
Still, he looked around for another enemy to fight. The fucker had Piranha gangsters with him. They were a new cross of vampire and Gila Monster shifter, this particular breed baptized Piranha for their devastating teeth. They could dissect a large man in no time, and although their venom was lethal, they’d rather feed on live flesh than inject it with poison. They needed copious amounts of raw meat to sustain themselves, and their favorite snack was human.
Joss’ new wife, Clelia, had taken care of those. The firestarter stood to the side, dressed in black leather with knee-high boots. He saw the look Joss shot her. It was one of possession, a need to protect, but the small woman looked deceptively fragile. He bet she could kick Joss’ ass, and Joss was one big chunk of human being.
“Lann,” Joss said again.
Lann knew that Joss had noticed the uncharacteristic rage in him, but the bloodsucker didn’t ask questions as they hurried to the SUV that would take them back to base camp.
Joss helped Clelia into the vehicle before he and Lann followed. Lann kept his eyes on the horizon, just in case the dead fuckers had a back-up team. Maya was behind the wheel.
“Weather forecast?” Joss said.
He wasn’t referring the temperature or possibility of rain.
“Coast is clear,” Lann said after checking the satellite monitor on his wrist.
Clelia didn’t speak. She regarded him quietly with something like empathy. For her second battle, she had done great. She was an asset to the team. But he dwelled on another woman. Damn it. He shook his head. He had to clear his mind.
He looked out the window, more to avoid Joss and Clelia’s piercing stares than to admire the Dutch windmills. He fucking hated the Netherlands. Then Joss’ finger was on his bleeding arm, the one the devil of a sorcerer had managed to cut before Lann had made sushi of his heart and fried his ass, and before he could grip Joss’ wrist, the bloodsucker had his finger in his mouth, tasting Lann’s blood.
Joss didn’t possess one of the seven forbidden arts, but he had a gift for telling things about people by tasting their blood. Now his commander’s eyes widened as he stared at Lann with something like surprise. Lann sneered. It was nobody’s damn business.
In his ground base room, after he had showered and the team’s onsite doctor, Eve, had stitched him up, Lann dialed the secure number for his butler in Santiago. It was Friday, five days since he had left Katherine.
Alfonso replied on the first ring. “Sir?”
“Has she been in yet?”
“No, sir. Not since you called yesterday. Miss has not yet been back to visit the library either.”
Fuck. “I see.” He swallowed, mentally preparing himself for a blow. “Is she seeing anyone?”
“No, sir.” Good. “There is a man visiting frequently.” Fuck. Fuck. “It’s her roommate’s boyfriend.”
“Who?”
“Enrico Prieto.”
“Any messages?”
“Just from your banker, sir. Miss returned the money.”
“All of it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Why the hell did she have to be so hardheaded? She needn’t struggle. He had more than enough to ensure she led a comfortable life.
“Anything else sir needs me to do?” Alfonso said when the silence stretched.
They had two more stakeouts lined up before this mission was over. It had turned out dirtier and longer than what they’d expected.
“Book me a flight to Santiago in two weeks’ time.” Lann hung up and threw the phone on the bed.
He had no right to do this. He had no business going back and interfering in her life. He’d just make sure she was alright. And then he’d back off. No. If he saw her, he wasn’t going to back off. And he couldn’t do that to her again. He’d just go and take care of the money. Then he’d get the hell out of Santiago and let her be happy.
About the Author
Charmaine Pauls was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa. She obtained a degree in Communication at the University of Potchestroom, and followed a diverse career path in journalism, public relations, advertising, communications, photography, graphic design, and brand marketing. Her writing has always been an integral part of her professions.
After relocating to France with her French husband, she fulfilled her passion to write creatively full-time. Charmaine has published six novels since 2011, as well as several short stories and articles.
When she is not writing, she likes to travel, read, and rescue cats. Charmaine currently lives in Chile with her husband and children. Their household is a linguistic mélange of Afrikaans, English, French and Spanish.
Other Books in the Seven Forbidden Arts Series:
Pyromancist (Book 1)
Books by Charmaine Pauls:
Between Fire & Ice
The Winemaker
Second Best
The Astronomer
Short stories by Charmaine Pauls:
A Miracle for Christmas
The Ice Hotel Wedding Test (Frozen, A Winter Romance Anthology)
The Grayton Christmas Supper Contest (A Christmas to Remember Anthology)
Author website:
www.charmainepauls.com
Coming in July 2015
Aeromancist (Book 2 of the Seven Forbidden Arts series)
Passion always comes with a price.
All he could offer was thirty days of passion.
He condemned her to an unthinkable fate instead.
Now he’ll do anything to save her.
He is known as the Weatherman. Lann Dréan is the last of his kind. A price on his head, chased for a power he should not possess, all he can offer Katherine White is thirty days of passion. But his uncontainable desire comes with an unforeseen cost—at the end of their thirty-day contract, Lann learns that his lust will cost Katherine everything. Now he will do anything to save her from the fate he has brought upon her.
Excerpt:
The air in the flat was thick, not cool like when he was around. It had been two weeks since he had left her, and Katherine White swore she had lost her ability to breathe. All she wanted to do now was be sick. Fittingly. Her body was in withdrawal. What she needed was Lann Dréan’s touch. But she had signed a contract not to contact him after thirty days. That was all he had promised to give her. A month of the most incredible sex of her life.
“Come on, Kat,” Diana said, “you’ve been cooped up in here for two weeks. Come out for dinner with us. It’ll be fun.”
Kat swallowed down bile, trying not to vomit.
“Enrico won’t mind.”
“I’ll just stay here with my head in the toilet,” Kat said, not looking at her roommate.
“Kat...” Diana crouched down next to her. “You haven’t been well since ... well, since you know when.” She wiped Kat’s hair from her wet forehead. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I’m in no condition to go out, never mind eat. Besides, I’ve got to work. I’m behind with my research.”
Diana straightened and rested her hands on her hips. “Is that maybe because you haven’t been back to his library?”
Kat rolled her eyes at Diana’s determination not to speak Lann’s name, as if that was going to prevent Kat from missing him.
“There are other libraries, you know,” Kat said.
“Yeah.” Diana gave her a condemning look. “But not with the same material. Not with what you need. Besides, you haven’t been to any of those other libraries either. You haven’t been anywhere since he left.”
“You and Enrico go and have fun. I–”
The wave of nausea Kat had been fighting broke and she tore into the bathroom. She emptied her stomach, the little of what she could manage at lunch, into the toilet.
When only dry heaves remained, Diana handed h
er a wet wipe and patted her shoulder.
Kat supported her back against the bathtub. “I’ve never had a stomach bug that lasted for seven days.”
“Kat?” Diana’s voice was soft. “I think you should consider an alternative reason for your condition.”
“Like what? Can’t be food poisoning. It doesn’t last this long. And I don’t have a fever.”
Diana sat down next to her. “I was thinking along the lines of doing a pregnancy test.”
Kat looked up quickly. “Impossible. I told you he’s infertile.”
“You haven’t had your period, Kat.”
“I’m never regular. Lann wouldn’t lie to me. I trust him. Utterly.”
Diana shrugged. “Then it can’t hurt to do one.”
“That’s crazy. Impossible.”
“Alright.” Diana got to her feet again. “Tell you what. I’ll stay in with you tonight. I’ll heat up some tomato soup, as that’s all you seem to tolerate these days, and we’ll watch a movie on TV. But before that, I’m going to the pharmacy.”
* * * *
An half an hour later, Kat sat on the closed lid of the toilet. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself. Her usually tanned skin was pale now, making her eyes appear bluer than normal, and her red hair was a tangled mess that fell to her waist. This wasn’t the girl who had welcomed Lann into her life just over a month ago. That person was in charge of her life, knew what she wanted and where she was headed. What looked back at her, this washed-out version of herself, was the woman he had walked out on.
Diana touched her shoulder. “Kat?”
She trembled. “It can’t be. It’s wrong.”
“Girlfriend,” Diana took her hand, “you’ve done two tests. They can’t both be wrong.”
“But why would he have lied to me?” Kat jumped up. “He isn’t like that.”
“Maybe he’s not like you think he is,” Diana said sternly. She hugged her friend. “Come. We’ll work it out. First things first. Let’s go make you something to eat. You must be starving.”
In the kitchen, Kat took a seat by the table, her head in her hands, while Diana heated a tin of tomato soup in a casserole on the stove.
“What will you do?” Diana said, her voice sympathetic.
“I have to do a blood test to be sure. If it’s positive, I’ll have to tell him.”
What Kat didn’t say was that she didn’t need the blood test to be sure. Deep down, she already knew the truth she tried so hard to deny. She was pregnant. It didn’t make sense, and yet, it did. They hadn’t used protection because Lann told her he was infertile. If he only wanted a thirty-day fling, why would he lie?
“You could just say nothing if you never want to see him again,” Diana offered.
Kat shook her head. “No. He has a right to know. And I have a right to answers.”
She didn’t go back on her word or break her contracts, but this was an exceptional condition. She picked up her phone.
“What are you doing?” Diana said.
Kat dialed Alfonso’s number. Lann’s butler answered with, “Miss?”
“Alfonso, I need to speak to Lann. Can you please give me his number in New York?”
This wasn’t something one did over the phone, but given the circumstances, she didn’t have a choice. He was probably having a good time back home. Maybe he had already offered another woman a thirty-day trial with a no-strings-attached clause.
“In fact,” Alfonso said slowly, “sir will be back here on Friday, just for a couple of days, if Miss wishes to see him.”
Her mouth fell open. He was coming back? Without telling her? He wanted to slip in and out of Santiago without her knowledge. How could he?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Shall I give sir a message?”
“No. No, thank you.”
She ended the call.
“You’re better off staying away from him,” Diana said, pointing the wooden spoon at her. “He’s trouble of the kind that can destroy a girl’s life.”
Too late. If Diana only knew... Kat was already in way over her head.
* * * *
From the expression on Lann’s face, Kat knew he hadn’t expected her. Alfonso hadn’t warned him of her visit. Lann sat behind his desk, very similar to the first time they had met, but this time he was in the library, and not in his office. He had probably been working on the restoration of his ancient books, because he wore his glasses. Removing them, he immediately got to his feet. The air felt lighter, as it always did in his presence. Wisps of her hair lifted as if to an invisible caress, but Lann didn’t acknowledge the subtle dance of molecules this time.
As always, he looked impeccable in tailored slacks and a white dress shirt. He stood immobile, exerting calm, waiting for her to make the first move. Kat had never been fooled about the latent danger that lurked under his quiet sophistication and intellectual air. There was a raw energy about Lann that hinted at his wildness, even as his exterior was polished civility.
“Alfonso showed me in,” she said.
“Katherine.” His lips lifted in the corner, exposing his dimple.
Her heart broke at his smile. It was the one he reserved for other people. Never for her. It was automatic, a practiced social stance, and she hated it.
Hers was faint in return. She glanced at the library workers who were handling his books with protective gloves. “May we speak in private, please?”
He frowned. “Let’s go to my office.”
He led the way. At least he hadn’t thrown her out on sight. She was walking the familiar path she believed she’d never walk again. The air gathered around his ankles as he moved, lapping at her feet as she followed in his wake. She had never felt it stronger, and yet, it should have been the reverse. She was supposed to be cutting the tie, not strengthening it, dammit.
Inside his office he almost took a military stance, his shoulders straight, his arms behind his back, as if keeping them there would prevent him from touching her. But his eyes were filled with warmth and concern.
“Katherine, I didn’t tell you I was back because I didn’t want to make it harder on you.”
He didn’t owe her an explanation. She’d agreed to his terms. With her eyes wide open.
“I came back to take care of the money,” he continued. “When Alfonso told me you returned everything–”
“I don’t want your money.”
“You can live in comfort. Why struggle, if I have enough to share?”
“Because it wasn’t part of our agreement,” she snapped. She took a calming breath. “Because it’ll make me feel like a prostitute.”
His expression was incredulous as he considered the statement, but after a moment, he inclined his head. “Of course. I respect your decision.”
“Lann...” She chewed her lip, thinking of the best way to tell him. Hadn’t she practiced her line a million times? “I wouldn’t have broken our agreement if it wasn’t necessary.”
He stared at her expectantly. There was no easy way to break the news.
“I’m pregnant.”
He froze. The heat evaporated from his gaze. His upper arms flexed as he clasped his hands behind his back. She couldn’t tell if he was mad or disappointed. Either way, neither was the reaction she was hoping for.
The silence stretched between them. For a while, he seemed incapable of speaking or moving. Only his eyes lowered and rested on her abdomen.
“It’s impossible,” he finally said.
She opened her handbag, retrieved the blood test results and offered it to him shakily. Lann lifted one hand from behind his back and took the piece of paper. Kat watched him closely as he read it. His eyes widened and narrowed again. She presumed he was looking at the age of the child growing in her body, doing the calculation in his mind. Emotions she couldn’t place played across his face. Was it sadness, envy, anger that made him press his lips so tightly together? Finally, he lifted his head. She d
idn’t like the way he looked at her.
He handed her back the report. “Congratulations.” His voice was impersonal. “Who’s the father?”
The words punched the air from Kat’s lungs with the same ferocity as when he had cut her airflow during lovemaking. Then it had given her an earth-shattering orgasm. Now it caused her pain, with the same intensity. She couldn’t believe he said that. Hurt and anger blurred her vision. She drew back her hand, and before she could stop herself, she slapped him. She took a step away from him, biting back the tears. The trace of her fingers lay red across his pale cheek. Lann accepted her abuse with a stoic expression, without uttering a word.
“You bastard,” she whispered. “You needn’t feign your innocence by insulting me. Are you afraid I’ll ask you for child support? Do you think I expect you to play an unwilling role in this baby’s life? Maybe you think I’ll try to emotionally blackmail you into marrying me.” She clutched her bag to her chest like a shield. “I didn’t come here expecting anything from you. I want nothing. I only came because you had a right to know.” She took a ragged breath. “And to ask why you lied to me.”
When he still didn’t speak, she nodded slowly, the unwelcome tears threatening to find their way to her cheeks. He wasn’t going to offer any explanation, any solace, any excuse.
“I see,” she said. “Then we have nothing more to say to each other.”
She turned for the door, but Lann’s voice halted her. “Please stay. You’re upset. I’ll take you home when you feel calmer.”
Aeromancist: The Beginning Page 15