by Lisa Kumar
Eamon stared down his nose at her. “It’s in my nature to be so with anyone beneath me.”
Ooh, he wanted to go back to being an arrogant ass? And pretend that their dressing-room interlude had never happened?
She should’ve been relieved, and to a degree she was, but another part of her smarted at his denigrating attitude. How to rattle that icy composure of his? “I don’t remember being beneath you, only merely hooked around your waist.”
A dull red flush coated his cheek, and he gritted his teeth. “Listen, and —”
The sound of the cashier clearing his throat ripped their focus away from each other, and both glanced at the poor man who was staring at them like the freak show they were.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly to him and took a credit card out of her wallet just so she could hide her flaming face for a second.
“Hello, I hope you found everything you needed,” said the cashier, though he still sounded a little shell-shocked.
Not that she blamed him one bit. She and Eamon really shouldn’t be let out of the apartment together. She forced a smile to her lips. “Yes, thank you.”
With surprisingly nimble hands — probably because he wanted them gone from his line — the cashier rung up the items and stacked them neatly before putting them into a white paper bag. “The total is $783.25.”
Caralyn barely winced at the amount, though that was nearly three-fourths of what she spent on clothing a year. Eamon didn’t have cheap taste — no big wonder there. Everything about the man was decadent.
Without saying a word, she swiped her card and took the receipt from the clerk. She stuffed into the white bag, offering the cashier a quiet “have a good day.”
Though she didn’t look behind her to see if Eamon was following, his presence was nearly a palpable thing at her back. Even when she was ignoring him, he was still a burr in her butt.
“We are leaving now?”
His irritating voice crashed into her thoughts. “Yes.”
“Good. I desire to rest.”
She didn’t answer and marched on ahead. Her bed — sans Eamon in it, of course — sounded like a great place to hole up in. Maybe with sleep and avoidance, she could pretend today never happened?
Ha, right! She’d never look at a dressing room the same again.
Chapter 11
Eamon took in Caralyn’s ramrod-straight posture as he trailed her out of the store and back into the mall. It wasn’t hard to see that she was furious. He could almost picture the smoke pouring from her ears. He cracked a smile at that image, but his dark mood smothered it.
He’d finally gotten what he’d wanted, but he feared he’d only been left wanting more. That wouldn’t be wise. Their time in the dressing room was beyond anything he could’ve imagined — explosive and passionate. Upsetting, too, though he quickly swept that disconcerting thought away.
As he and Caralyn wove through the thickening crowds, his mind, though, refused to forget the matter. Their lovemaking had seemed to touch a part of him that all his previous encounters had left undiscovered. He humphed to himself. Imagine anything that had to do with him and sex being undiscovered. What pure idiocy.
But a fool he apparently was.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think there was some kind of bond forming between them. That idea was absurd on too many accounts to list. He was marked as a traitor to his people. She was human, and he hated humans. Did he hate her, though? Of course, he — Well, she was bearable but probably only because she served a few good purposes.
Now that she’d taken care of one of those, his interest in her should wane all on its own. He glanced at her, and his gaze drifted to her backside, which her short coat didn’t cover. His groin stirred. There went that theory. However, one time may not have been sufficient to sate his lust.
Did he dare sleep with her again? What if he wasn’t imagining things? If anything, his experience with her had shown him just how much of a miserable elf he was. He’d always known he was, but he’d really never much cared before. But with her, during their lovemaking, it was as if he could see right into her center. The purity and goodness there had shaken him and shown how deficient he was when it came to those qualities.
Insanity. He was fine the way he was — strong, not swayed by emotion or that troublesome thing called affection. To let sex make him maudlin would be a travesty. He’d come too far to let himself be controlled by anything but his own wants and desires.
As they walked by the Santa display again, a blond-haired woman hurried by and accidently brushed against him. Though the touch was fleeting, with her arm hitting his, he shivered — and not in the good way that Caralyn made him shiver. Any uninvited touch could seed panic in his veins, though this time, it was a different sort of unease that filled him.
Against his will, he glanced back at the woman, and he froze. He blinked a few times, sure he was seeing things. But, no, the faint hazy yellow glow around her didn’t dissipate.
What was this? Some prank of Aistiane’s or even an unintended side effect of him being on Earth? Though he almost wished it were, the dropping sensation in the pit of his stomach hinted otherwise. He swung his gaze to Caralyn, who still kept walking. Her aura was still the sun-bright color it’d been before.
What did this all mean? Until he’d met Caralyn, he hadn’t seen auras around any human. Now to see this woman’s ... Puzzlement wormed its way deeper. Could this have something to do with his possible repentance? But how?
Then a stark possibility stole into him like a butter-smooth knife. Aistiane had said the darkindred were originally intended to track down those humans who could complete a total bond with an elvin mate. What if these auras were how they were to discover those humans? And maybe how they were still to discover them. Aistiane had said she hoped the darkindred could recover and perform their intended function.
If this was all true, though, why was he seeing the auras? Aistiane surely knew he’d take no part in such a disgraceful activity. A sick feeling worked its way up his throat. Wouldn’t Aistiane’s ultimate revenge be to devise that his redemption hinged on finding these despicable humans? It was horrifying yet so logical, something she would believe to be perfect justice.
He’d be stuck ... No, he couldn’t even bear to think on it right now.
As a gaggle of young women tittered at him, the flow of people around him suddenly intruded. He forced air into his lungs, but his legs didn’t want to obey his command to move.
At that moment, Caralyn glanced behind her and, when she saw him, stumbled to a stop. She walked back toward him. “What is it?” she asked when she was a foot or two from him, an expression of worried annoyance crossing her face.
He shook his head to clear it. “Nothing. I ...”
“You what?”
“Nothing,” he said again. How could he explain about the auras when all he had were suppositions? And very unsatisfactory ones at that? Anyway, why would he confide in her? She wasn’t his friend, not that he had any, or his confidante. She was his ... What was she? His lover? No, too intimate sounding.
Her eyebrows lowered as she sent him a doubtful look. “Are you coming or what?”
Some wicked part of him prodded him to say, “I think I already did.”
She glared at him. “You got lucky. Don’t expect a repeat.” Huffing, she whirled around to continue her way through the mall.
His legs finally worked, and he followed her because what other choice did he truly have? Plus, he loved seeing her breathe fire like a little dragon.
Then his moment of humor died. He had much to think upon. If his suspicions were correct, he’d have to plot his next course of action.
CARALYN GLANCED OUT of the corner of her eye at the figure reclining indolently on her couch. Go figure, he even lazed about with a regal air that strained her last thread-thin nerve. At least he’d been blessedly quiet, so she didn’t have to listen to any arrogance spouting from that beautifully shaped mouth of hi
s.
They’d been back home for a few hours. With a frown, she corrected herself. No, not “home” for him. He was merely crashing at her place until he had somewhere else to go, whether that would be back to Eria or with someone of his kind that lived on Earth. But who’d want the royal douchebag?
All the women gawking at him at the mall came to mind. From the loveseat, she scowled at the TV show that had done precious little to grab her attention. Well, those ladies wouldn’t want him once they knew him. He was nothing but trouble wrapped up in a sexy exterior. And she could now fully attest to the complete sexiness of that exterior.
She blanched at that reminder. Why, why, why had she slept with him, especially since she had technically still been a virgin? She still didn’t understand it. Sure, he was model handsome, but she’d been around good-looking men before. Even in her clinicals, she’d worked with a few head-turning men who’d been patients. One of her previous boyfriends, Hayden, had been a blond-haired Adonis. Of course, he’d broken up with her to date another woman partly because she wasn’t ready to put out, but that was neither here nor there.
But wait! It was.
She’d never been deep into lust and let it lead her around by the nose like this. Her failed relationship with Hayden had been her most passionate one, and even with him, she’d stopped before full penetration.
Considering how easily she’d given it up to Eamon, why had she denied Hayden? It didn’t make any sense. Especially when it caused Hayden to dump her for one of the biggest gold-digging flirts in college.
Absently petting Archie, who lay beside her, Caralyn stole another look at Eamon. His eyes were closed as he lay sprawled across the sofa, but she didn’t believe for one second that he was asleep. His left foot shook to the rhythm of the song coming from the TV. He appeared relaxed and handsome. After his shower, he’d changed into a new shirt and a pair of jeans, both tailored to his lithe, muscular frame as if they’d been made specifically for him. Though she’d bathed after him, she didn’t look anywhere as well put together in her jeans and sweater.
Though she hated to admit it, some part of her found him fascinating. This was the male she’d been drawing for years. In a twisted, messed-up way, she felt like she kind of knew him. Since she’d been drawing him, surely there was some reason that had brought him to her? Yeah, because she was probably the only one who would’ve believed he wasn’t barking mad when he said he wasn’t human.
But it was more than that — he captivated her even as he repelled her. Now if she could only figure out why. Because it certainly wasn’t his sparkling personality.
She stared at him again, trying to reason out the draw he held on her. A terrifying thought slipped into her mind. Oh God, they hadn’t used protection. What if he had a sexually transmitted disease? She was on birth control, so hopefully she was safe from pregnancy unless he had some kind of super-powered sperm. Since he was an elf, he might. Misery drilled down to her soul. Surely, she wouldn’t be so unlucky during her first time? Anyway, maybe humans and elves couldn’t procreate. But then why did he have all the proper equipment a man had?
“Why are you examining me so intensely?”
At the sound of his voice, she jumped. “I wasn’t aware I was?” she said faintly. Archie raised his head and put his muzzle on her leg as if to comfort her.
Eamon gazed at her through lowered lids and chuckled, a dark, rich sound that flowed right through her like honey, and said, “I think you were attempting to bore a hole into my poor chest.”
She ignored the quivering butterflies in her tummy that his voice elicited. “I’d much rather bore one into your head so I can better understand the craziness that resides there.”
“The only insane thing would be how my sheer genius would shock you.”
And once again, he managed to twist her words. “Humble, aren’t you?”
“I merely know my capabilities.”
“Well, if your ability at annoying people and acting superior could actually be correlated with intelligence, then you’d probably be the smartest person in this dimension — or any.”
A slight smile curved his lips. “You really know how to sweet talk me.”
The glower on her face had nothing on the one forming in her heart. He was the most exasperating, frustrating, fractious, contentious —
Then the whole ridiculousness of their conversation hit. Really, what had she been expecting? For him to change because he’d slept with her? He was a person who unabashedly said and did what he wanted. That wouldn’t change overnight — and it might never. Not that it mattered even if he did, because she wanted him gone as soon as possible.
In the meantime, to make life bearable, she had to stop thinking of him as a being who was swayed by compassion and empathy. He was cold and bigoted. If she treated him as such, there’d be much less grief and anger on her part.
First, she needed to ease her previous fears. Not sure how to begin, she wet her dry lips. “Eamon, when we — when we had sex in the dressing room, we didn’t use protection. Are you clean? I know I am.”
“Clean? Are you seriously asking if I bathe?”
Oh God, only with him could she be having this conversation. “No, I mean are you free from sexually transmitted diseases?”
His face cleared of its incredulousness only to cloud with indignation. “Of course I am. Though elvinkind doesn’t have the rampant diseases you have, I never fail to use skins if I don’t know the —” He cut himself off, apparently realizing what he was saying. Then he shrugged. “If you’re clean, I’m not worried.”
Relief quieted her jagged nerves. “Good. I’m on birth control, so pregnancy shouldn’t be an issue, right?”
Unease rushed across his face, and her worry skyrocketed. “What? Birth control isn’t enough to stop your elvin sperm?”
He shook his head as if dazed. “No, it probably should be. I just can’t — I can’t believe I forgot about a preventative before engaging in intercourse with you or asking if you were taking one.”
The stranglehold on her lungs lessened. “Preventative?”
“A tonic that prevents pregnancy.”
“Oh. So elvish birth control is available for both males and females?”
“Of course. Is it not for humans?”
“No, there’s no pill or liquid for men yet.”
“How curious.”
And backward his tone seemed to say. She couldn’t help but agree.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her it’d been many hours since breakfast. A glance at her watch showed it to be nearly three in the afternoon. No wonder she was hungry. Eamon hadn’t said anything, but who knew how often and how much elves ate.
She toyed with the idea of making an early dinner but really didn’t feel like cooking. So it’d have to either be takeout or going somewhere to eat. Rising, she quickly made her decision. “You hungry?”
He popped one eye open. “I can eat.”
“Okay, get up. We’re going out.”
Chapter 12
Daylight faded into cold evening as Caralyn and Eamon neared the entrance to a colorfully painted Mexican restaurant. He strode ahead on the icy sidewalk and opened the door. Caralyn almost faltered to a stop as she eyed him warily. It wouldn’t surprise her if he let the door slam in her face, but like a true gentleman, he held it open and even went so far as to usher her in with a hand placed on the small of her back.
The warmth of his palm seeped through the heavy down of her coat, which should’ve been impossible. While she might feel like she was caught up in an inferno when Eamon was around, he certainly wasn’t one literally.
What was more astonishing was that he kept his hand on her back as they walked through the tiny antechamber and into the main part of the restaurant. Low light reflected off the shiny stucco blue and green walls, and the buzz of voices mingled with the Latin music playing over the speakers. At four in the afternoon, the place was fairly busy already.
The restaurant,
located in the heart of downtown, had long been a favorite of hers. Though she usually only ate here every few months with friends, she and Hayden had come here nearly every weekend when they’d dated.
She glanced at Eamon to see how at ease he was. Though he stood tall and proud, he was absolutely still as if examining something that could turn treacherous. And maybe to him, it could.
He still hadn’t removed his hand from her back, so she was sure he was more than a little preoccupied by his surroundings. She vacillated between feeling kind of sorry for him and wanting to add to his discomfort. Since she didn’t want him doing anything to attract attention, like flipping out on their hostess or server, she knew she couldn’t tease and poke at Mr. High and Mighty.
Fortunately, another couple ahead of them was being seated, so he could scope out the area for a bit longer. “So what do you think?” asked Caralyn.
He finished inspecting some prints on the wall before he looked at her. “It’s colorful.”
His voice wasn’t derisive, but there was no happiness in it, either. All in all, he was acting as expected.
“Their food is good, if you like Mexican.”
He gave her a dry look. “I’ve never had it.”
“Yeah, didn’t think there was Mexican food in Eria.”
The pretty black-haired hostess returned, and she smiled at both of them. Then the smile fell from the woman’s lips as her gaze flew back to Eamon. Interestingly enough, Eamon’s reaction was much the same — he stiffened as he stared down the hostess. Caralyn glanced from Eamon to the other woman. A cord of tension seemed to tie them together.
What was going on?
The peculiarity of the situation stretched on as the silence thickened. “Is everything okay?” Caralyn asked, afraid there was going to be a scene of some kind.
After a long second, the woman recovered her voice. “Um, yes. Welcome to Cocoa Casa.” The hostess’ arched brows, eerily resembling Eamon’s, lowered. “Just two to be seated?”