“No,” Kyle said. “They were supposed to do something with him—like give him to somebody or something like a familiar—only they didn’t understand that. And they didn’t know that dogs need to go outside sometimes or that they need baths. He was pretty grody when Zoe brought him back.”
“I’ll bet,” Rob said.
“He’s, like, in the parking garage,” Kyle said with sudden urgency. It took Rob a moment to figure out that he meant Travers, not Fang.
“Right.” Rob waved a hand, then cupped his fingers into a ball, and willed the doggy stains—all of them—into stain oblivion.
The suite instantly smelled better.
The fact that John had just put onions and garlic in olive oil helped.
“Thanks,” Kyle said.
Megan shook her head. “From saving the world to saving my nephew’s dog from my brother’s wrath. You’re quite something.”
Rob smiled at her.
“He’s more than something,” John said from the kitchen. “He’s smitten. He wouldn’t’ve used magic for something that small before.”
“Why didn’t you clean up the pee?” Rob asked.
“I’d like to say I was going to leave it for you, but I had my hands full of Fates for longer than I wanted,” John said.
Rob opened his mouth to comment, but John shook a wooden spoon at him.
“And get your mind out of the gutter. Those women don’t do anything alone.”
“I thought that wouldn’t bother you,” Rob said.
“Gentlemen,” Megan said gently, “there is a child present.”
“Yeah.” Kyle sighed. “But I had to learn about all this stuff a long time ago, Aunt Meg.”
She looked alarmed. “What stuff?”
“Y’know, like how Fates do everything together. If you think about it, it can be really icky. Like this makeup thing. I mean—”
“Okay,” Megan said putting up her hands. “I see what you mean.”
Kyle still had his back to her. He gave Rob a sideways grin, and winked. Did the boy really know what Rob had meant?
Megan would have thought such things were bad for the boy, but back in Rob’s day, children were around parents all the time. Many people slept in one-room huts and had huge families.
The human race survived.
Kyle’s grin widened. He snapped his fingers, and Fang fell in beside him.
“Me and Fang want to finish watching the anime that we ordered up. Is it okay to watch in my room? You guys are gonna talk about grown-up stuff.”
“It’s okay,” Megan said. “So long as you grab an apple from the kitchen to chase away that chips-and-dip lunch you had.”
“That won’t make my lunch healthier, Aunt Meg,” Kyle said.
“But it’ll make me feel better,” Megan said.
Kyle rolled his eyes, and went into the kitchen. John tossed him an apple, which he caught, and then he headed down the hall, Fang trailing behind him.
“That’s one special kid,” Rob said.
“We think so,” Megan said with obvious pride.
“Your brother must have been really young when he was born.”
“Why?” Megan asked.
Rob glanced at her. John shook his head, then made a show of turning on the tiny television the hotel had thoughtfully provided on the kitchen counter.
Apparently, he didn’t want to hear their conversation any more than Kyle did.
“Because,” Rob said. “My people can’t have children once they come into their magic. Men usually come into it around twenty or so.”
“Travers couldn’t have been magic that long,” Megan said. “I would have noticed.”
“I have a hunch he hadn’t noticed,” Rob said.
Megan gave him a soft smile. “Travers is good at being oblivious sometimes. But you couldn’t ask for a better brother.”
She was being loyal after the sharp comment she’d made about him earlier. She did seem to adore her family. She had defended them when Rob criticized them, and she had shown over and over again how much she loved Kyle.
Rob approached her and reached out a hand for her. “Let’s finish that discussion.”
Her eyes suddenly seemed guarded. “Let’s not.”
“Megan, I….” And then he just decided to stop talking. Talking wasn’t getting him anywhere.
So he leaned forward, and kissed her.
She stood very still for a moment, then leaned into him ever so slightly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
She tasted of sunshine and lip gloss and something sweet, something he’d never tasted before, something uniquely Megan. She was so soft and warm, and she leaned against him as if drawing strength from him, her arms wrapping around his neck and bringing him even closer.
He wasn’t sure how long they kissed. All he knew was that when he finally broke it off—to tell her that he wanted to go to a more private area, just to talk (and maybe do something more)—he was surprised to see that her eyes were closed and tears dotted her cheeks.
He touched one, and stared at it in awe, a shiny drop of water against the ridges on his forefinger.
“Megan?” he whispered.
She didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she squeezed them even tighter. Her eyelashes were wet.
He placed both hands on the sides of her face, and used his thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears. Then he kissed her damp, salty skin.
She let out a small moan. Her eyelids fluttered open. Her eyes seemed even greener than they had before.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, look.”
“Kissing!”
“Perfect.”
Rob felt a thread of irritation. Couldn’t those three women leave him alone?
He looked over Megan’s shoulder. The Fates had crowded together in the hallway like they were posing for the opening credits on a sitcom. He half expected to hear theme music—Here’s a story about three strange ladies—and was relieved when he didn’t.
“This is private,” he said.
“We can tell.” Clotho smiled. “Everyone who wants privacy stands in the most public place in the suite.”
“You could get a room,” Lachesis said. “You can afford it.”
“I thought Megan had a room,” Atropos said.
They were wearing tasteful but glittery makeup that somehow made their jeans-and-blouse outfits from earlier in the day look very glamorous.
He had to ignore them. Megan’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed again, an expression of pain on her face.
“You have a room?” he asked, wondering which of the rooms off the hallway was hers.
She nodded.
“Let’s go there,” he said.
She didn’t answer. Then she sighed deeply, opened her eyes, and smiled as if she had never done that before.
She kept her face averted from the Fates and took his hand.
To his surprise, she led him out of the suite and into the hallway. Then she reached into her pocket and removed a keycard.
She opened the door to the adjoining suite as the other door swung shut.
Before it snicked closed, he could hear the Fates.
“I do so love true love,” Clotho said.
“It’s nice when it works out like it’s supposed to,” Lachesis said.
“Let’s hope that they don’t get too distracted,” Atropos said. “We need them to keep true love alive.”
Rob didn’t hear the response. But he did frown. It’s nice when it works out like it’s supposed to? What did that mean?
Marian had been his soulmate, not Megan.
Right?
He shivered once and followed Megan into her suite, not sure he wanted to know the answer to his internal question.
Twenty-three
He probably thought she was a basket case.
As Megan stepped into her own suite, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Tears. She’d never
cried before when she’d been kissed.
But she had never felt so inexpressibly sad before, like a part of her was mourning something that she didn’t even know was there.
And then there was the part that had gotten all shuddery, the part that knew she had never been kissed like that before and was afraid she never would again.
Her suite was colder than her brother’s. She walked to the temperature control and adjusted it upward.
Rob stood in the entry.
“Sorry about all that,” he said. “I just had to get away from those women.”
Megan nodded, feeling hideously embarrassed. She didn’t want to turn around, but she couldn’t monkey with the temperature controls all day.
Rob came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.
“Where were we?” he muttered. “Ah, I remember. I had decided that talking was no way to convince you I’m attracted to you.”
Then he kissed her bare neck, right where it met her shoulder, and a delicious shudder of desire ran through her.
The tears threatened to come back, too.
She didn’t want that, but she didn’t want him to let go. She turned around inside his arms. He looked up in surprise—his entire face seemed alive with passion—and she kissed him.
He pulled her so close that she couldn’t quite tell where she ended and he began. He kissed her mouth, her damp cheeks, her eyes. He kissed her neck, and that shiver ran through her again.
And she was kissing him back, her hands finding the jacket on his suit coat and helping it slid off, and then the buttons on his shirt, and the fly on his trousers, and somehow, she was leading him toward the bed she hadn’t yet slept in.
He had a magical mouth that managed to find every part of her that could arouse her, and he hadn’t even gotten past her shoulders yet. First his hands were busy with her shirt, then the clasp of her bra, and then the button on her jeans.
She tripped, and fell backward on the bed, pulling him on top of her. His pants came off easily and she helped him with hers, and all the time he kissed her, finding the sensitive areas on her breasts, her stomach, her hips, his fingers finding even more sensitive places in even more sensitive areas.
He brushed against her leg, and she bent down, grabbing him, and moving him exactly where she wanted him. He slipped inside, his face between her breasts, her legs wrapped around him, forcing him deeper and deeper.
He murmured her name, then raised his head, and she kissed him.
She had never felt so beautiful, so desired.
So loved.
Her eyes closed again, and the tears threatened.
He moved inside her and she could feel the pressure building in both of them and it was like she wasn’t one person anymore.
She could feel his passion and hers, his need and hers.
There were no barriers left.
They were one person, and when she—they—couldn’t take it anymore, and the climax came…
…she couldn’t tell if it was his or hers or theirs.
She couldn’t tell, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She drowned in sensation—their sensation, two bodies that had somehow—magically—become one.
Twenty-four
He had never felt like that before. Not once in eight hundred years.
Rob clasped his arms around Megan, holding her to him, pulling her with him as he fell to her side.
He didn’t want to lose the togetherness. He didn’t want to lose that sense of being more than himself, of being inside her body and her mind at the same time.
He’d had no idea how a woman felt during lovemaking—until now—and it was even more arousing than he had thought. If he weren’t so tired, it would arouse him all over again.
He kissed that sensitive place on her neck, gently this time. He would never ever be able to be with another woman, not after this.
Megan stirred, her hand caressing his back. But she didn’t seem to want to separate from him either. Her face was buried in his shoulder, her warm body tucked against his, so soft, so precious.
Intellectually, he knew what had happened. He had just made love to a true empath, an empath who had lost her guards—if she ever really had any—and had let him so deep inside her that her magic had flowed both ways.
For that moment, anyway, she had been as attracted to him as he had been to her, because she felt his emotions.
He knew he should tell her that, but he wasn’t sure how. He would be telling her to question her own emotions—and yet, he was doing that. He was questioning how she felt.
He didn’t want her to regret this, to think that somehow, this was some sort of aberration for her.
Although he had a feeling it was.
He smoothed her hair back. “You okay?” he asked softly.
She raised her head. Her eyelashes were still spiky from those earlier tears. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”
His heart skipped a beat. He brought her head closer, kissed her forehead, and sighed.
“Why are you suddenly so sad?” she asked, and gave him his opening.
He sighed again.
“Is it Marian?” she asked.
He froze. Marian. He hadn’t thought of her since he stepped into the apartment, since he found himself wondering about great love.
Megan had given him an answer to his earlier question. He had loved Marian with all of his heart. It had been a true love, a union of like minds.
But he was different now. Older. Centuries past the boy he’d been. And this woman that he held now, what she had just given him, was so much more than he’d ever had with Marian.
And this relationship was just beginning.
Or so he hoped.
“Robin?” There was a thread of fear in Megan’s voice, and she started to pull away.
He kept one arm wrapped around her and stroked her hair. “Is it always that intense for you?”
He made sure his question was very gentle, non-threatening. He tried to keep his fears and doubts in check.
“Sex?” she asked.
He nodded.
A tear landed on his chest. Then she wiped it off, smearing the wetness.
“It’s always—strange for me,” she said. “I usually feel so distant.”
“And this time?” His worries suddenly changed. Had the intensity only been there for him?
“This time,” she said, and her voice trembled. “This time, I almost lost myself.”
She said that as if it were a bad thing. He made himself take a deep breath before saying anything more.
“Do you regret it?” he finally asked.
“Do you?”
She wasn’t going to answer. This was one of the places in which she’d been hurt. She’d felt mutual passion—maybe too young to understand that young men have stronger sexual urges than young girls—and had gotten attached when the young man hadn’t.
He shifted slightly inside her, then smiled at her. “I don’t have any regrets.”
Her answering smile was radiant. “I’m not sure anything could surpass that first time.”
He felt her joy—or maybe it was his own. He couldn’t tell. They were still linked, and he was aroused all over again.
He kissed her, and she kissed back—this woman loved to be kissed—and he rolled all the way over so that she was on top of him.
She sat up, his hands resting on her hips, guiding her gently.
The magic started all over again—
And that was when some idiot pounded on the door.
Twenty-five
Megan was off him in half a second, scrambling for her robe, before she realized that she wasn’t in her condo. That knock made her feel like a high school girl caught necking by her parents.
She threw open the closet door and found a terry cloth robe provided by the hotel. As she yanked the robe off the hanger, she turned.
Rob hadn’t moved. And he was as aroused as he had been a moment ago.
How had sh
e attracted such a handsome man? She still couldn’t believe that.
He smiled, and patted the bed beside him. “It’s okay, Megan. They can leave.”
She shook her head. “I’m supposed to be watching Kyle.”
“Kyle’s got John and the Fates. They’ll take good care of him, just like they did before.”
She pulled the robe on, suddenly embarrassed by the whole thing. He could see her naked. He could see every single flaw.
The knock came again. “Megan! You okay?”
It was Travers.
The flush in her face traveled down her neck into her chest. She hadn’t blushed that deeply since she was in middle school.
“Coming, Trav,” she said, and then bit her lower lip.
Rob laughed. “That was a few minutes earlier.”
“This is serious,” she said. “That’s my brother. He’ll be mad.”
Rob’s smile faded. “Let him.”
“But I’m supposed to be—”
“I think he’s mature enough to understand,” Rob said. “After all, we interrupted him and Zoe.”
That was true, and even more embarrassing. Megan shook her head. “They’re engaged. We just met last night.”
“I don’t think they’ve known each other very long either,” Rob said. “It usually doesn’t take mages long to recognize their true love.”
Megan put a hand in front of her face. Everything was moving too quickly for her.
“Meg!” Travers shouted again.
Then she heard a key card in the door. She hurried into the hallway, and yelled, “Trav, it’s okay,” but by the time she’d finished the sentence, he had entered the suite, Zoe behind him.
He let the door swing closed behind him. “You’re flushed.”
“Travers.” Zoe grabbed his arm.
“Are you all right?” Travers asked. “Did you get too much sun?”
“Travers.” Zoe tugged on his arm.
Megan was mortified. Even more mortified than she had been when she had interrupted them. Or more specifically, when Rob had interrupted them.
“You don’t look well,” Travers said.
She didn’t feel well, at least not now. Before she had felt spectacular, like a completely different woman, and now, she had no words for the sense of loss that was overcoming her.
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