by Lisa Kumar
“But you’re an anesthesiologist. I know that’s one of the higher-paying careers in the medical field.”
“It is, but I have an assload of student loans to pay off.”
“Her fiancé doesn’t have the same?”
His lips twisted. “He’s twenty years older than me. Since he’s rolling in money, any loans would’ve been long paid off.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this, but I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.” She was a physical therapist, not a lawyer, and knew next to nothing about custody cases.
“My lawyer said it would ... improve my chances if I were in a committed relationship, one that would lead to marriage.”
Caralyn swallowed, understanding finally beaming her over the head. “You want us to ... You think ...” She couldn’t even get the words out.
He flinched but then reached out to touch her arm. “Just hear me out.”
She almost pulled away from his grasp. It felt wrong, all of it. Nothing within her quickened at his touch. But astonishment kept her frozen in place.
His hand slid down to her waist. “I know it sounds insane and is a lot to ask but —”
Denial formed on her lips, but a sinister voice spoke before she could.
“Remove your hand unless you want to lose it.”
Chapter 13
Eamon. His dark voice poured over her like a bucket of ice water. Goose bumps popped up on her skin, and a shiver zipped alone her spine. How had he managed to sneak up on them?
Caralyn closed her eyes for a brief moment before she looked at him. His face was pale, and his lips were pulled into a thin line as he stared at Hayden. But what freaked her out was that he appeared to be gazing not only at Hayden but the area around him. What in the world? Had he lost some of his marbles? Given that he had precious few left to begin with, that was a disturbing thought.
Seriously, could this night get any worse? All she needed was a fight between him and Hayden. And she knew who’d win — Eamon. He was all caged violence that leaked at the seams.
Hayden drew himself up tall and glowered at the interloper, though his hand fell back to his side. “And what gives you the right to tell me what to do?”
Caralyn nearly shook her head. Male posturing at its best. Hayden better be careful, or Eamon might wipe the floor with him in spite of her pleas otherwise.
A supremely nasty smile floated across Eamon’s mouth. “Because Caralyn and I are together.”
What was he saying? Was he crazy? The urge to throttle him made her shake. But she couldn’t very well correct him without the whole evening turning into an even bigger mess.
“Why is it the first I’m hearing of this?” Hayden demanded, looking from his rival to Caralyn, an almost betrayed expression in his eyes.
Eamon lifted an insolent brow. “Maybe because you’re not privy to every facet of Caralyn’s life? From what little I heard, it sounds like you removed yourself from Caralyn’s life, yet after landing in a sticky position, you want her to rescue you.”
A flush spread over Hayden’s slightly tanned face. “You bastard, you had no right to eavesdrop.”
“I have every right. She’s my lady, not yours. And I protect what’s mine.”
Caralyn stared at Eamon, not sure whether to kiss him or tell him to shut up. Some silly part of her was thrilled that he placed a claim on her, but a larger, more reasonable portion chafed at his presumption. For all he knew, she could be interested in getting back with her ex-boyfriend.
Disgust flickered over Hayden’s features. “She’s not a piece of property.”
Darn right she wasn’t.
Eamon snorted. “With what you were asking of her, you were attempting to treat her like one.”
“I was ... wasn’t,” Hayden sputtered. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Caralyn. “Please, can I have just one more minute without prying ears or eyes?”
A low growl came from Eamon, and Caralyn threw up a staying hand between the two aggravating males. “Hayden, I don’t know if that’s —”
He gave her a sad smile. “I’m not going to try to sway your mind to what I mentioned. I promise.”
Dang, why did she have such a tender heart? Though she was beyond frustrated, she found she couldn’t say no. But she’d have to take care of Eamon first if she didn’t want a potential bloodbath happening right before her.
Caralyn placed her hand on Eamon’s shoulder, feeling as if she were facing a wild bear or lion. The muscles beneath her fingers were bunched up, and the lines of anger on his face weren’t any more reassuring. He’s jealous. The thought stole into her mind like a thief, one that she tried to dropkick out. No way, he couldn’t be. She and Hayden were nothing but human ants to him.
“Eamon, will you please give me a moment? I know Hayden. He won’t try anything.” Even if he did, though, it shouldn’t matter to Eamon.
He glared at her, and his mouth tightened. “Why would you even wish to speak with him?”
His harsh tone bit into her, but she shook the sensation aside. “Because I still consider him a friend of sorts, and when a friend asks to talk with me, I don’t ignore that request.”
Frustration glimmered in his eyes. He brushed her hand from his shoulder. “Fine, I need to use the restroom. Be sure you’re done talking by then.”
Though his manner was high-handed, she expected nothing less. What truly surprised her was that he’d even set foot in a public restroom. They were often cesspits, but she wouldn’t tell him that.
Eamon continued on, “Once I’m out, your conversation is over, understood?”
She knew Hayden was watching them, but she couldn’t stop her sarcastic reply. “Yes, Father.
“I’m serious, Caralyn.”
“I know. Now go to the restroom.” She shooed him with her hands. Lord, she wanted this evening done with.
To her astonishment and pleasure, he went without nary a word. Wow, definitely not like him. What was he up to? Stashing that thought away, she faced Hayden again. “So what did you want to say? Eamon will be back very soon, and I’d much rather avoid an altercation.”
Hayden stabbed a finger toward the men’s bathroom. “How the hell can you be with an asshole like that?”
Caralyn pressed her lips into a thin line. “You don’t have such a great track record yourself. Any discussion about Eamon is off limits. No matter what you now think you want, you don’t get a say in my life.”
His head fell back, and he stared at the ceiling. “I knew approaching you was a long shot, Cara. But I had to try. If I have to get married, I wanted it to be to someone I actually cared for and could love.”
A lump formed in her throat. Though she didn’t love him, and wasn’t sure if she ever had, his words moved her far more than she’d thought possible. “I’m sorry, though I can’t help you there. Maybe if things had turned out differently two years ago, but then we wouldn’t be standing here, either.”
He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”
The men’s bathroom door opened. Eamon stalked out. “Ready?” he asked without preamble and planted himself between her and Hayden.
“I think so.” She glanced around Eamon to look at Hayden. “Anything else?”
“Uh, no. It was nice seeing you, Cara.”
Though it felt like a lie, she said, “You too.”
Eamon sidled up to her and slid a possessive arm around her waist, sending Hayden an angry sneer. What was the damn elf doing? Marking his territory? She leaned away to glare at him, but his arm tightened. Unless she wanted to be obvious, she couldn’t even fight him.
Hayden watched them for a moment, his mouth twitching as if he were seeing something disturbing. But all he said was, “Well, I guess I’ll be going now.”
As he left, his stiff gait hinted at his discomfort. An irrational shred of guilt pierced her, but she couldn’t be the person he wanted her to be. And that sent anger blazing through her. Somehow, this was all Eamon’s fault.
; She knocked his arm from her and rounded on him. “What the hell was that about?”
He shrugged. “I don’t want you becoming entangled with anyone while you’re helping me. It’d only bring complications.”
His sense of self-importance threatened to crush her. “Stay out of my personal life.”
“Not when it affects me. Besides, I don’t like to share. When you’re in my bed, you’re in no other.”
Her hands clenched. He was treating her like a possession. She wanted to wipe that unpleasant smile off his face, and her fist was just the thing to do it. But she was smart enough to know it’d likely hurt her a lot more than it would him. That stayed her hand, barely. “You’re beyond belief, and I’m not sharing any bed with you.”
A smirk grew on his face. “Though I am from a vastly superior people, I’m quite real, as I’m sure you remember from our time in the dressing room. And, trust me, we will share a bed and do much more than sleep in it.”
Her hand shot up, but he caught it before it could make contact with his smug face. Lowering his head, he whispered by her ear, “Starting the foreplay early?”
Her heart rate tripled from both his touch and her anger. “You’re despicable.”
“That flush is very becoming on you.” He ran a finger along her cheek and down her jaw.
She shied away from the caress. “Stop trying to seduce me.”
“I’ve done that already, so there’s no trying left to do.”
Gah, he was right, so she couldn’t argue that point. Her resistance was pitifully meager when it came to him. And, apparently, he didn’t have anything better to do than toy with her. “Well, it won’t happen again.”
He tilted her face up to his, his gaze seeming to penetrate her deepest secrets as the heat of his fingers seeped into her. “Are you so sure about that?” he asked.
Yes.” No, not at all, especially when you look at me that way.
A slow smile spread over his lips while his hands ghosted from her chin and down to her waist. “A challenge, then.”
She pulled away from him. “Let’s go.” This conversation — and his touchy hands — had to stop. Her desire for him underpinned her antagonism, making for an explosive duo she didn’t want ignited.
His eyes widened innocently. “So eager to get home?”
Another innuendo? “I’m not going home for that. I have to take Archie out.” She cast him a warning glare. “When I go to bed, it’ll be alone.”
A trio of ladies entered the area and gave Eamon goo-goo eyes, which soured her mood even further.
After he spared them a brief look, he grinned at her and said loudly, “Time to get you home and into bed.”
The women giggled as if he’d said something terribly witty. One of the brunette ones even had the nerve to say, “Lucky woman.”
Caralyn grabbed Eamon by the arm and roughly pulled him back into the main room of the restaurant. She had no illusions he was letting her, because he was as strong as an ox and could’ve stopped her at anytime. Plus, the quaking of his shoulders gave away that he found the last few minutes highly amusing.
Marching back to their table, she gave a sigh of relief. The check was there, so she scanned it for the amount due and threw down the correct amount of cash, plus the tip. Given Eamon’s less than stellar behavior with the waiter, she set down a very generous gratuity. To her surprise, her food had been packed up. She’d forgotten she’d left half of it to take home and, quite truthfully, wouldn’t have even bothered at this point.
“I had it boxed up for you,” Eamon said right next to her.
She was startled so badly she felt as if she nearly hit the ceiling. Whirling on him, she hissed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. Are you trying to give me a frigging heart attack?”
If anything, his amusement only grew. “There’s only one way I desire to give you a heart attack, and this isn’t it.”
“Well, this is the only way you’ll be able to.” With trembling hands, she slung her coat over her shoulders. But her stupid fingers and the zipper didn’t want to obey. Screw it, she’d leave the damn thing open. She couldn’t help but notice Eamon had no such problems with the buttons on his coat.
Picking up the box of food and her purse, she then turned from the table only to have Eamon halt her. He took the box from her and set it back on the table. What was he doing?
Bending down, he examined the zipper as if it were something new and fascinating. It probably was. That, however, didn’t snag her attention for long.
Even in the low light, the blue-black highlights in his hair glistened like sea spray. Her fingers curled against her palm. She wanted to touch those gleaming strands, to run her hands through them and ruin the neatness of his ponytail. His hair seemed an extension of himself, corralled behind a layer of rope to keep it under control at all times.
He zipped her coat in one easy move and straightened to full height. They stood staring at each other. His hair still beckoned her touch. When had she developed such a strong fetish? She squashed the urge by scooping up her box and broke the silence encasing them.
“You didn’t have to.” She gestured toward her coat. “Thanks, anyway.”
“I don’t want you becoming ill.”
She read the words that slipped between the lines. Yeah, she needed to be in full health so she could effectively help him. He wasn’t concerned about her, not really. A sick servant wasn’t a useful servant.
With a frown, she strode toward the front of the restaurant. The takeout box rested warm and heavy in her hands. How had he even known she liked to take her leftovers home? Lucky guess? Or maybe he merely disliked waste?
He quickly caught up to her in the lobby. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“The car,” she said, her tone clipped. This whole day had been screwed up, and she wanted to be safe in her apartment before anything else could possibly blow up in her face.
He didn’t offer any bits of his “wisdom,” and she really appreciated that. As before, he reached around her and opened the door. The frigid air slapped against her face, stinging her skin. She huddled deeper into her coat as she passed the threshold. Eamon soon fell into step with her.
Snow was falling. Again. And this time, it was at a steady pace. Nearly a month before Christmas, and she’d already had enough of the white stuff. Too bad winters in Wisconsin could be nasty. She almost longed to cuddle up with ... Nope, not going there. There were plenty of blankets at home. She didn’t need an Eamon one, but her shivering body didn’t seem to understand that.
Chancing a look at him, she saw that his forehead was scrunched up as if he were troubled by something. Her fingers itched to reach up and smooth the lines from his brow. What insanity. She knew better than to do that or even ask about what worried him, though. He rarely volunteered any information unless he chose to.
His tense voice broke the quietness shrouding them. “Are we nearly to your vehicle?”
“No, we still have a few minutes’ walk. Why?”
“Just curious.”
Given how his gaze was flicking around everywhere, it was more than simple curiosity. Though they weren’t terribly far from her car, it was parked in one of the back lots, which were located behind these Main Street buildings. Maybe parking on the street would’ve been a better option.
She glanced at the Christmas-decorated storefronts and streetlights. Nothing threatening popped out. The snow painted the world around her in a surreal haze. White flakes meandered into the light from the street lamps before traveling beyond their glow. All this festiveness reminded her that she needed to drag her decorations out of the storage unit behind her apartment complex. If Eamon would deign to lower himself to menial labor, he could help her lug the stuff up.
They came to an alley that would serve as a shortcut to the parking lot. She led them down it without hesitation. Eamon seemed tenser than ever, but she dismissed his reaction. Who knew what was concerning him? It could be anything. When
ever she’d taken the alley, it’d always been safe, and its length didn’t take long to transverse. Besides, nothing ever seemed to happen off campus.
Well, except for her cousin Maggie’s disappearance and that of her friend Cal. And that had probably occurred while they were on campus, though the police had never received any leads about their abduction. It was still a mystery to the small college town. While she’d never been particularly close to Maggie, she did mourn her probable fate.
However, once she and Eamon were halfway through the alley, her reassurance plummeted to zero when a shadowy figure seemed to melt from the wall. The form looked male-shaped, though a long trench coat did obscure more than it exposed.
Both she and Eamon froze, and his arm shot out as if to protect her. In fact, he angled his body slightly in front of hers. If she weren’t so scared, she’d have found it sweet.
“Halt, marked traitor,” a smooth male voice said coldly, backing up her intuition about the sex of the person. The words gave her pause. This man knew exactly who and what Eamon was. Which could be good or bad, but considering she was talking about Eamon, it was probably bad.
The stranger continued, “What are you doing here?”
Eamon drew himself up straighter. “I have as much right as anyone to be in this alley, driade holdout,” he said, the challenge clear in his voice.
Eamon’s use of “holdout” pierced her veil of fear. So the guy was an elf who was born and bred here? Her stomach lurched as if it were falling down a deep well. Given the elvin woman’s response at the restaurant, this wasn’t going to turn out well.
The other elvin man stepped closer, and the faint light leaking into the alley revealed his striking, elegant features. A knit cap was slouched on his head, and his shoulder-length blond hair flowed from underneath it.
Caralyn found herself staring despite knowing this was neither the time nor place for it. Were all elves good-looking? It sure seemed like it.
The male coolly slid his hands into his coat pockets, gazing at Eamon. “You’re in Faerin Midwestern Territory now — my territory. I have every right to know of your whereabouts and intentions.”