by Tawny Weber
Bianca squinted at the cards, trying to get a hint of what that price might be. How big? How painful?
She took a deep breath and tried not to freak out. Focus on something else, she thought, scanning the cards. A couple featured naked people, which was encouraging. Naked was definitely the right direction.
But...
“What’s this one?” Bianca sat back down and tapped The Tower card herself. She was surprised the lightning didn’t leap off the cardboard and zap her finger.
“Destruction.”
Holy shit.
She should have asked about the naked people.
“If I seduce him, my life is destroyed?” Talk about a cold shower. She’d rather stop at the naughty toy store on her way home and get a new battery-operated boyfriend than risk that, thankyouverymuch.
“No. The Tower is coming, regardless of what you do about your love life. If you seduce the handsome man next door, you will be visited by huge changes in your life. If you avoid him altogether, those changes are still arriving. The change is already in motion. The only question now is the result.”
Needing to move, ready to run, Bianca leaped from the swinging couch, sending it flying back then forward with such force that it almost knocked her over on its return. Ignoring it, she paced from one end of Anja’s small living room to the other.
“I don’t want change,” she muttered.
She hated change. She still had nightmares of all the changes her father had brought into her life. Changes that’d sent her running away from home for the first time at the tender age of fourteen, and three more times in the next two years before she’d actually escaped. Changes had made her turn her back on her family, her life, her entire world to escape them.
“How do I stop it?” she asked quietly, not caring that her words came out a plea.
Anja would know. Anja could do anything. Could fix anything, make anything happen.
But her friend just shook her head.
Bianca slid into a panic attack.
She hadn’t had one in five years, but the feeling was as familiar as falling asleep. The room swirled in a hazy fog. Black spots danced across her vision. Her lungs clenched and terror gripped her belly with greasy fingers.
“Anja, you have to help me.” Bianca, croaked, shoving the words through the vicious grip fear had on her throat.
The dark haired gypsy looked at the cards again, her face troubled. As if she were fighting her own inner battle. Then, with a quick grimace, she nodded and rose.
Coming over to Bianca, she took her hands.
Her touch was instantly calming. As if she’d pulled a plug, releasing all of Bianca’s fear, panic and worry. It was like melting into a puddle of tranquility.
“You have to face it,” the dark haired woman told her, the words quiet and intense.
Bianca swallowed hard, fighting the fear trying to claw its way back up her spine.
“Once you do, it’ll be gone forever. Face what scares you, and you will own the power. You will be in control.”
“Are we talking about my life here, or sex with the towel-draped hottie?” she murmured, remembering Anja’s warning that change was coming regardless.
“Facing your fears with the man could very well be the key to giving you the strength and confidence to face down the other changes,” Anja advised compassionately.
Right. Instead of a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down, she’d ask him to go down instead.
“So if I face my fears, go across the hall and seduce a man who is totally out of my league, who pretty much made it clear that while he might get a woody on my behalf, he’s not willing to do anything about it, then I’ll be in control?”
Didn’t that sound like fun?
Actually, Bianca’s body insisted, it did. If it worked.
“How hard did you really try?” Anja asked. “Did you seduce him or just flutter your lashes a little?”
“I said hi, introduced myself and offered to turn the water back on,” Bianca muttered. Then she defended, “I was distracted by his mostly naked, totally gorgeous body.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I know. But I don’t know how to seduce a guy. I mean, I do. I’ve read plenty of romance novels. But I just don’t know how...” Her words trailed off and she finished with a helpless jerk of her shoulders. “You’ll help me? Please?”
“The Miner girls would kill me.”
“Are you really afraid of them? C’mon, they’re all short,” Bianca teased. It was true, though. At five-six she was the tallest of all of them, and Anja towered over her by at least three inches. Bianca’s smile faded. “I need to do this, Anja. I need to face my fears. I want control of my life.”
At least, she thought she did.
Mostly she wanted to hide from the idea of change. But maybe if she focused on the sexy fun instead, Anja’s doom and gloom prognostication would pass her right by.
It was worth a try.
And she had to try something.
Staring at her with troubled eyes, Anja pushed one hand through her tumbled curls, then gave in with a sigh.
“Fine. I’ll whip you up a little something that will help.” At Bianca’s excited look, she shook her head and held up one hand. “It’ll help you overcome your own resistance. Make you a little braver. You still have to do all of the seducing.”
Bianca’s confidence dimmed a little, but her smile didn’t.
She was going to do it.
She was going to be brave.
She was going to seduce the hottie.
She was going to overcome her fears.
And, by damn, she was going to have the best sex of her life.
Chapter Five
Twenty-two hours later, Bianca wet her lips, wiped her damp palms on the hips of her tightest jeans, adjusted the collar of her blouse, then forced herself to knock.
This was it.
Her underwear was lace.
Her legs were waxed.
And instead of tools in her bag this time, she had sex toys. Well, her version of sex toys, which meant a jar of hot fudge, a can of whipped cream and a couple of silk scarves.
All she needed to reach orgasm central was her man.
She was ready.
Even fisted tight, her hand trembled as she pounded on the door again.
At least, she would be if Anja would answer the darned door.
She heard a sound across the hall and damn near ran back down stairs. Nope.
Orgasms, she mentally shouted.
She forced herself to remember her vow the previous day. A vow to a woman reputed to be a witch was binding, wasn’t it? She’d promised to be brave. To face her fear. She’d thrown herself at Anja’s feet and begged for help in seducing, um, the cutie next door.
She really had to find out his name.
As she tried to calm her racing heart, she heard the door behind her open. Her stomach dove into her feet as she spun around.
“Hi,” her sexy prey greeted with a warm smile.
“Hi.” She cleared her throat, then tried again. “Hello. I’m here to finish the work on the sink. But first, I needed to find Anja.”
He nodded, then tilted his head toward his apartment.
“She said you’d be coming by. She had to deal with some emergency or other, but she asked me to help you.”
“Help me?” Bianca breathed. Had she filled him in, convincing him that he wanted to seduce Bianca instead of the other way around? Anja rocked.
“She left something here for you, said you needed to eat it right away?” He gestured her into the room, his smile intact, his eyes intense.
Bianca’s smile dimmed. Okay, so Anja didn’t rock as much as she’d hoped. What about the rest of the help? The help Bianca actually needed. Getting into the guy’s apartment wasn’t the point, Bianca’s pipe wrench could do that. Getting in his pants was the goal here.
Still, one step at a time.
So she took hers by crossin
g the threshold, the door swinging shut behind her. Almost as if on its own. She shivered a little, then gave her gorgeous guy a tremulous smile.
“It’s nice of you to help me out.” She wet her lips, taking in his appearance. “I hope I didn’t interfere with your plans?”
He was casually dressed, jeans more worn than hers and not nearly as tight. A green tee shirt a few shades darker than his eyes. And that smile. Full lips curved in a friendly smile that did nothing to soften the sharp angles of his face. There was something intimidating about him. An unspoken power that assured her this guy knew what he wanted and made sure he got it.
Clearly, he was totally out of her league.
Biting her lip, Bianca glanced toward the safe escape of the door. Then she looked back at the hottie and sighed.
She missed the towel.
It’d been much easier to ignore the warning signals when her brain was taken over by lust.
“My day was wide open, so I was happy to offer my services. I’m not quite sure what I’m actually offering, though.” With a rueful laugh he pushed one hand through his hair, the long strands falling over his fingers. Bianca wanted to touch it, to feel if it was heavy or soft, silky or not.
But was her interest reciprocated? At least yesterday she’d been able to gauge his reaction to her flirtation attempt by the extension of his towel.
Her eyes dropped to the front of his jeans and she wet her lips.
Impressive, but not very telling. Damn that denim.
“Anja didn’t say anything else?” she asked, not caring that she sounded a little desperate. Hadn’t the other woman offered a subliminal suggestion that he strip naked? Or maybe wave her hand in front of his face, whisper a few magical words that included seduction, Bianca and orgasm central, then snap her fingers to make it so? Or, hell, even a Dude, Bianca’s coming by and she’s hot for you?
“Nope, she didn’t say anything.”
Clearly, Bianca was way off with her witchy expectations.
“She knocked, hurried in and left this, then ran back out.” Moving into the kitchenette, he gestured to a dome covered glass plate on the counter.
Moving so fast she almost tripped over her stylish-yet-practical--yes these really are for work—boots, Bianca joined him and lifted the dome.
A perfect golden crust sprinkled with a glistening dust of sugar was centered in a sweep of raspberry sauce. The rich scent of cinnamon, apples and pastry filled the room, as if an entire batch of turnovers had just been taken from the oven.
“She did say you might be willing to share, though.”
For a guy who supposedly had no idea he was in the seduction cross-hairs, he sure had a cautious look on his face. Like a hunter gauging his prey, waiting to pounce.
She’d like to be pounced on.
But hey, she had an apple turnover.
“Anja left this, too.” As if just remembering, he pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket.
Shivering when their fingers brushed, Bianca took the scrap of parchment and glanced at the flowing script.
Enjoy. As long as you’re sure.
Was she sure?
It’d be easy to take her turnover, and a few pretend-measurements of the kitchen as a cover, then run away.
But she didn’t want to run away. She didn’t want to be sweet and pure and good anymore. Not with him... whatever his name was.
She wanted hot and wild and fun instead.
“I’m Jacob, by the way,” he offered, along with a fork.
It was like a bell chimed, signaling the last requirement being met. There it was, now she knew his name. Her last excuse to pretend she wasn’t here to seduce him disappeared in a puff of imaginary smoke.
Time to put up or shut up. So she took a deep breath and reached for the apple treat.
“Did you want a bite?” she offered, forking up a generous portion of the still warm, deliciously flaky turnover.
His eyes didn’t leave her face. What was he looking for?
He didn’t say. Instead, he shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I’m still full from the muffins and breakfast frittata Natalia brought up this morning.”
Bianca swallowed a cinnamon-infused bite of apples, then tilted her head. “Are you sure? I hate to be rude. And to eat alone.”
“How about I sit and visit with you while you eat?” Pure charm, his smile lighted his eyes. Man, he was cute. “You can explain what this is all about. Are you on a sugar-restricted punishment and Anja’s your enforcer? You can only eat sweets behind closed doors? A bossy family with control issues?”
His smile widened as if he were joking. But his eyes were narrowed, still watchful. Bianca shifted uncomfortably. Did he know why she was here?
“It’s a special recipe Anja was trying out,” she said around another scoop of apples. Oh my God, this was delicious. “She’s got this competition thing going on with her mom and doesn’t want Natalia to know what she’s making.”
Bianca was proud of that. Every word was as true as this turnover delicious, and none even hinted at the fact that she planned on Jacob as her dessert’s dessert.
“Have a seat,” he invited. “Let’s talk.”
His tone was friendly, but the little hairs on the back of Bianca’s neck stood on end. As if warning her that he was after something. And not the same something she was after.
But, what?
She lowered the plate to the counter with a frown. Where this sudden wariness had come from?
Before she could ask, or even figure out how to word her curiosity since he hadn’t done anything truly suspicions, everything did a loop-di-loop.
Her head felt woozy and the room spun in a slow, sleepy circle.
“Are you okay?”
Jacob was spinning, too. She reached out, grabbing onto him with fingers that didn’t seem to work, trying to make him stay still.
He felt so good. Hard and warm. What else was hard and warm. Her eyes dropped to the potential behind his zipper, but before she could check for herself, the spinning swung in the other direction.
Bianca’s knees turned into a puddle of goo.
Although falling into his arms held appeal, this wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind.
She couldn’t quite focus.
It wasn’t the sugar, though, that was rushing through her system. It was nerves, tangled with something she barely recognized. Something she hadn’t felt in over ten years.
Bravery.
Nerve.
A sense of entitlement.
Suddenly, she was a powerful woman. A smart, savvy woman who deserved to revel in her own strength. To take what she wanted, to enjoy every opportunity.
She wanted Jacob.
She wanted him for sex. She wanted to feel his body under hers, over hers. She wanted to explore every sexual fantasy she’d ever shocked herself with, with him.
Taking a deep breath she found her balance against the swirling and stepped back. She needed a little distance from Jacob’s body for this part.
Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse, sliding the small beads free and letting the cool, freeing air dance over her hot skin. Her head spun again, making it hard to stay upright. But she’d be damned if she went horizontal before she got naked.
She wanted all of that, and she wanted it now.
And, damn, it felt good.
Horrified, Jacob watched Bianca’s fingers slide down the front of her shirt, each inch revealing bare silky temptation. His mouth watered and his head buzzed.
Before he could protest, hell, before he could drag his jaw off the floor, she swayed again. Her eyes softened, then blurred.
He rushed forward, grabbing her just before she melted into the floor.
“Bianca!”
“You’re so pretty,” she murmured in a hazy drunk tone, looking as if she was trying to pick up a mountain, she lifted her hand to his face and swept those fingers along his jaw.
His dick jumped as if she’d just petted it.
Disgusted with himself, Jacob lifted her into his arms and, after a dismissive glance at the short couch covered in green Muppet fur, he glanced toward the bedroom.
Half-naked woman. Bed.
Bad idea.
He settled for the couch.
“You need to sit down. Should I call a doctor? Family? Natalia or Anja? Someone?” He tucked the pillow behind her head, put another under her feet, then stepped back before he was tempted to touch anything in between.
“I don’t know what happened. Sugar rush, maybe. I’m okay, though,” she said, her voice still woozy as she pressed the tips of her fingers against her closed eyelids.
“Let me call someone. Get you a glass of water. Something,” he offered, hating how helpless he felt seeing her so weak. All of a sudden, bringing her back to Boston didn’t matter. He couldn’t care less about beating Lynn White or finding Robert’s daughter. Jacob just wanted Bianca safe.
“No, I’m fine. Don’t call anyone. Just give me a second to do this right,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. Jacob hovered, hands ready to catch her, until he saw she was steady.
“Do what right?” Were the women she worked for that controlling that they’d make her work after a fainting episode?
He really did need to rescue her.
“Strip. I’ve never done it before. It seems like it should be simple, but the simplest things are always the hardest, aren’t they?”
No. His dick was the hardest.
Something Jacob forced himself to ignore while he debated calling someone again. She looked okay, but incoherent babbling couldn’t be a good thing. Especially when she was babbling about things like stripping.
His eyes darkened, narrowed as, against his will, he imagined her naked. Alabaster white skin, silky soft and bare. Were her nipples pink or peach? When his eyes dropped lower to her jeans, his own jeans grew painfully tight.
“Maybe you should lay back down,” he croaked
“I will,” she promised, pulling her shirt free of her jeans. “As soon as we’re naked.”
Huh? His brain shorted, as if the live wires were sparking heat but not making any connections.