by Anya Breton
What? What would Fintan have said? He’d written it into his will that they should do their duty together. But Brent was certain it wouldn’t have taken place on a cold wooden surface had his mentor been alive to arrange it.
Brent’s gaze roved lower. His breath exhaled in a silent groan when they passed over the golden crop of hair at the junction of her thighs. It was almost all he could do not to caress her.
Sara was every inch a princess. And he’d dirtied her just as she’d taunted.
****
The carpet had begun to itch Sara’s back when Brent shifted his pose beside her. Her cheeks flushed with warmth when his fingers began the delicate task of fixing her tank top. She took over the job from him because it simply felt too intimate for him to dress her.
With his hands free for other things, Brent chose to stand. Sara didn’t open her eyes to see why. The explanation soon became apparent when he tried to slip her panties over her feet. After a groan, Sara forced herself into a seated position so she could dress herself.
Brent’s shirt and hair appeared rumpled and the sheen on his skin proved he’d gotten as sweaty as she had. However, no one looking at him would have guessed what he’d recently been doing. She was glad for it.
Sara fixed her panties around her hips then tugged up her shorts while avoiding his probing gaze. She was clammy and in need of a shower. And she needed some time to herself to evaluate what had happened.
Brent startled her when he lifted her into his arms. She opened her mouth to tell him to put her down but he’d already made it to the door. Demanding he release her now would only wake the other witches in the house. Sara would be far less mortified if she could get away with no one knowing what had happened.
He took the stairs at an alarming rate. Sara found herself grabbing hold of his neck tightly to keep from being dropped. Without needing to see the doorknob, Brent easily twisted it then walked them both inside. Swift strides across the room saw him to the bed within a half a second. Carefully he set her atop the crumpled bedclothes.
And then he kissed her.
Sara’s entire body went still as his lips feathered over hers. Without a word Brent lifted himself upright, pulling his surprisingly soft lips away, and then he started for the door. She stared in shock as he left in silence.
What had she expected?
Certainly not a kiss. That complicated matters. An act that had merely satisfied a need he’d awoken now felt…serious. But how serious could it be if he’d not spoken a word? And why was she alternately annoyed he’d simply left her and afraid he would come back?
Sara was no closer to an answer when she fell asleep ten minutes later.
****
Even after several hours rest and a shower, Sara was still embarrassed to show her face downstairs. She didn’t like being someone’s conquest. Especially not when that someone lived in her home. Or when his best friends could be witnesses.
But she was hungry. It was nearly noon, far past time for her to put in an appearance before a witch was sent up the stairs to make sure she hadn’t died overnight.
Quietly she opened the door, peering down to see who was on duty. The staircase was empty. Though it seemed odd, she assumed whoever was guarding her had fallen asleep in the chair beside the stairs again.
Sara took them with soft steps, glancing aside as she neared the bottom. The chair was empty but someone was asleep on the leather sofa across the room. Colin? The pillow over the witch’s head made it difficult to tell.
Rumbling in her tummy sent her hurrying for the kitchen rather than linger to learn the identity of the snoozing witch. Someone stood against the sink holding a newspaper wide in front of their face. Thick fingers hinted it was a male. Sara’s heart skipped a beat. But the hips were too wide to be Brent. It had to be Derrick.
Murmuring a greeting, she went straight for the pantry to verify what she’d feared. There were no more boxes of cereal. She’d have to go out.
On the assumption Derrick was her babysitter this morning, she addressed him from the dining room entrance. “I have to go to the store because there’s no more cereal. Do I get to go by myself or what?”
“Or what,” he replied without pulling down the Sunday paper.
Sara inhaled an irritated breath at his rudeness. The paper rustled when she started for the stairs. Quick but heavy footsteps trailed her.
Brent must have warned them that Sara had been known to escape out the front door. And this time Derrick was actually going to play guard instead of relaxing in the kitchen.
After grabbing her purse and keys, she returned downstairs, avoiding the witch blocking the front door. She’d go out the kitchen because it would be quieter for whoever was asleep on the sofa.
As she’d feared, Derrick followed close behind. He headed her off at the driver’s door instead of going to the passenger side. He held out an empty palm.
Sara stared at him. “What?”
“Gimme the keys.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why? It’s my car.”
The dark-haired male shrugged his broad shoulders. “Comes with the protection gig.”
“You didn’t drive Vanessa.”
Derrick gave her a sideways look that made Sara flush. She’d admitted she’d seen them arrive.
“I’m not protecting Vanessa,” Derrick replied. “Gimme the keys.”
Then he and Vanessa were dating again…while Vanessa was having sex with Brent. She’d never understand her race. Sara tossed the keys at Derrick, and then stomped around the Lexus. He had the thing on and in gear by the time she’d pulled her seatbelt over her torso.
Derrick did some vehicular acrobatics to get them out of the driveway because Perry’s car had boxed them in. It was a good thing the grass on the side lawn already featured plenty of tread marks. The handsome witch fiddled with her radio, messing with her stations. He stopped when he’d located a particularly offensive country station. His voice soon filled the cabin as he sang along complete with a ridiculous affected twang.
How had she ever managed to crush on him? If she’d done more than stare at Derrick from afar, she’d have known he was a jerk with bad taste in nearly everything.
“Turn right here,” she told him impatiently.
“I want donuts,” he announced.
“Fine, but after the grocery store so they’re fresher.”
“I like how you think.”
Sara directed him to her store of choice. He stayed with her in the aisles, darting away on short trips here and there to grab chips, beer, and frozen burritos while she fetched cereal, milk, and fresh produce. She’d escape to her room when he combined those three items later. No doubt his stench would be more overpowering than the scent of recently scorched twigs and mesquite he ordinarily possessed.
Derrick unceremoniously dropped his items on the conveyor belt with her things. Sara didn’t ask him to hand over cash. He was protecting her. The least she could do was buy him some beer and cheap burritos.
“Jackpot,” Derrick declared when they spotted the bright red neon light in the window of the donut shop minutes later in the car.
Grabbing two dozen fresh donuts took little more than four minutes. Sara had begun to think the trip hadn’t been terrible when they’d made it halfway to the house in silence.
That changed when he broke into the commercials on the country station to ask, “How come I’m the only Fire witch you’ve never dated?”
Sara’s thoughts immediately went to Brent. She’d never dated him either. Unless what had happened last night could be counted as a date. Which it couldn’t. And wouldn’t.
Though her cheeks warmed in embarrassment for being put on the spot, she replied, “You were with Vanessa.”
“Barely,” he retorted with a hefty snort.
“Well, that’s why.” His intimidation factor certainly helped but she’d not make the mistake of admitting it.
There was a long pause. “I’m not with her now.”
> It was Sara’s turn to send him a sidelong glance. “Then what were you doing in her car not protecting her?”
Derrick snuffled. A laugh?
“Brent asked her to give me a ride to your place when they finished,” he said.
When they finished. Brent and Vanessa had been together after he’d left Sara on Monday. Her teeth gnashed together tightly to keep from swearing aloud. How could she have gone through with last night knowing full well Brent was already intimate with their houseguest? And in her daddy’s office no less! Her cheeks went bright red. Sara focused on the window in the hope the driver wouldn’t notice her shame.
Derrick parked the Lexus behind Vanessa’s hybrid. Sara held her cool hands to her cheeks then grabbed the donut boxes as she got out. Derrick lingered at the trunk. She stopped to see if he needed her to unlock the back. And then she recalled he had her keys. Their jingling was easily heard as he shifted them to his other hand and then took hold of the donut boxes, setting them atop the roof.
His broad body crowded her into the side of the car and his thick thighs blocked her escape. Derrick’s nearly black irises stared down at her. Twinkling mischief filled their depths.
His voice lowered into a husky range. “Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”
“I’m moving to New York soon.” It was a lame answer, but of all her excuses, this one would hurt his feelings least.
His lips curved into a wicked smile. “All the better, baby. We could have a little fun…no strings attached.”
She took a breath for serenity. “The other day you thought I was a stuck-up bitch and a spoiled brat that needed to be humbled.”
“I could humble you,” Derrick rumbled near her ear. He leaned forward, capturing her earlobe between his lips. And then he bit down.
Sara shoved at his chest with the flat of her palm. This was not how she’d wanted her morning to go. “Get away, Derrick.”
His teeth lifted but he didn’t. “C’mon, princess. Don’t be like that. You and me could be fun.”
“We’re standing out here in the driveway where anyone could attack us and you’re not even paying attention. So much for protecting—”
Derrick slipped his finger up the center of her stomach into the valley of her breasts. “I’m paying attention to you.”
“Me,” she finished. Unable to calm her anger at his forward behavior, Sara grabbed his finger, bending it back toward him until he hissed and tried to break free. “I said get away, Derrick.”
She shoved him aside by the bent finger. Sara scrambled out from in front of him the first chance she got. Whirling away, she paused for the donut boxes before racing to the house.
A door slammed somewhere further in the house when her feet passed over the threshold. Had someone seen them? Perhaps the little show in the driveway had been for Vanessa’s benefit.
Maybe Derrick wanted to make the hoyden jealous. It certainly would explain his abrupt change from declaring Sara be brought to heel one day and trying to seduce her in the next. Whatever the case, she would make sure her fruits and veggies were put away and then disappear with a donut to avoid any ensuing drama.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brent plunged his head into the cold water in the bathroom sink. He literally needed to cool off or he’d set fire to one of his closest friends for what he’d witnessed in the driveway. The door to Sara’s room opened and shut. Had she gone in there alone? He wanted to murder someone if she hadn’t.
Derrick was good looking, far more than he. The only reason he’d had any luck with girls was because the older guy had graduated three years before him. And now the only reason he had any luck was because every female of age in the local coven had already been with Derrick.
Everyone except Sara. He’d been the one witch their age she’d managed to stay away from. Apparently that had changed.
He tightened his grip on the counter when he considered the timing.
She’d been so…forward last night. She’d taunted him. She’d kissed him. She’d even undressed herself when his conscience had woken up to whisper he was taking advantage of her.
Had he had it all wrong? Was Sara McKenna completing her collection before she left for New York?
Brent dunked his face into the water again. It wasn’t cold, not nearly enough. He’d need ice to get it to the proper consistency—cold enough to numb. Ice would require he go to the kitchen where he’d be in danger of harming Derrick. Tap water would have to do until he’d calmed down. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he got violent only to discover Sara had instigated the whole scene.
But Derrick had to leave.
Brent didn’t care who had started the kissing session on the driveway, Derrick couldn’t stay at McKenna House where Sara had easy access to him. If she called him on it, Brent would claim he was protecting their inheritance. Though she wasn’t fertile now, witches had been known to conceive during their infertile weeks. It was the reason for the majority of the half-bloods alive.
He lifted his head from the chilly water and stared at his face in the mirror. The shiner she’d given him had darkened to violet. His failure to punish the witch responsible would make him appear weak. Brent could claim he’d punished her with sex.
But it would mortify Sara. He couldn’t do that. He didn’t want her to think he’d thought intercourse was a punishment.
What had happened last night…it had verified what he’d known for well over a decade. Perhaps that was why he was irate with his friend. If Sara had put the moves on Derrick so soon, then she clearly didn’t feel the same way about him. Perhaps intercourse was a punishment…but for him.
Brent patted his face dry, drawing in a deep breath to chase away the last of his fury. And then he started for the office.
****
Brent was already on edge. The nonchalant way his friend rested against Fintan’s desk didn’t help him control his aggression.
“What’s up, boss?” Derrick asked with a wry smile that echoed his derisive tone.
Though Brent held the position of high priest, Derrick made no bones about his opinion that he wouldn’t be able to keep it long. The older witch considered himself the better candidate. But Derrick hadn’t been the former high priest’s assistant. Power levels alone did not make a successful priest. Fintan had taught him that.
Brent crossed the room and stood beside the desk where he’d feel more in control. But he couldn’t bring himself to take up Fintan’s spot.
“Whoa,” Derrick exclaimed once he’d gotten a good look at Brent’s face in the sunlight. The few rays that managed to get through the custom ordered mini blinds filling the arched window behind him were plenty to show the mottled color of his shiner. “What the hell happened to your eye, man?”
Brent barely kept his hand from going to the sore skin. “I was out of line. Someone taught me a lesson.”
The older witch’s glossy eyebrows lifted. “Did you reduce them to ash?”
Rather than answer, Brent announced, “Two guards are plenty now that Sara has decided to stay in the house. I don’t need you to stick around. But I want you to keep an ear out for the Ena brood’s movements while you’re out and about.”
“Send Perry home,” Derrick retorted. “Dude was asleep on the job last night when I got up to take a piss. Sara could have snuck out.”
Sara had snuck out. And she’d snuck in as well. But right now the danger in McKenna House came from Derrick, not Perry’s ineptitude. He would deal with the issue later.
“You’re the best at intelligence gathering,” Brent sidestepped. It was the truth, he had to grant the guy that much. “I need you out there more than I need you here.” More importantly, he needed Derrick away from Sara. “I need to end the threat once and for all so we’ll all breathe easier.”
But there’d be no easier breathing until his child grew within Sara’s belly. Brent’s attention swung toward the window when he considered how the threat would actually be worse at that point. Pregnan
t and delicate, Sara would make him crazy each time she demanded to leave the house. He’d want her to travel in bulletproof vehicles with guards armed to the teeth. Maybe he should call in the Rangers. But…then he’d be admitting he couldn’t protect his brood. He shoved a rough hand through his hair, exhaling moodily.
“What’s wrong with you, man? You’re not the same,” Derrick declared in a grunted tone that sounded disdainful. “You got so damn serious.”
Brent shook his head, giving a sardonic laugh. “My mentor is dead. His daughter hates me. And I have no where else to go but here.”
Derrick made a snorting sound at the back of his throat. “His daughter hates everyone. Send that bitch off to New York where she can be with all the other snobby cunts.”
The barely checked aggression filled Brent’s veins with ice water. Without warning, he jumped the larger witch, tackling him to the office’s carpet. They landed with a loud thud. Brent wrapped his hands around Derrick’s windpipe with nearly lethal force.
His voice went low and grave, “The next time you insult her, I will kill you.”
The older witch’s eyes bulged out of his sockets in shock. And then they narrowed with startling speed. Derrick would retaliate if he didn’t release him soon.
With a spry motion Brent popped to his feet, tracking back four steps to ready for a fair fight.
“What. The. Hell,” Derrick choked through a raw throat he rubbed with the pads of his thumb and forefinger. Slowly he worked on getting to his feet. “Screw this, Conley! I ain’t your damn lackey!”
Brent gave him a long, telling look that said exactly how wrong he was. Now that Brent was regional high priest, Derrick Montaña and all of their friends were his lackeys. Unless Derrick wanted to move out of the region or challenge him for the position, he’d leave McKenna House and keep an ear out for the Ena witches’ movements.