It was Halloween, and Nathan had decided to take the day off and sleep in for a change. Hell, he'd earned it. Last night's humiliation had taken quite a lot out of him. Not to mention that he was still a bit sore—mostly that elbow, though. The rest of him was already back to normal. Not that it mattered, he supposed. The parts of him that were better would probably never see much use, anyway.
He'd like to strangle Aurora Sortilege. Coldhearted snake of a woman.
He was plodding through the apartment in his boxers, heading for his first cup of coffee, when the doorbell sounded. Pushing both hands through his hair, he stopped in midplod and turned. Probably his father. He'd promised to do some work at the house today, hadn't he? He was going to mow the lawn and take a look at that sticky window in the back.
He strode to the door and yanked it open only to see Aurora standing on the other side. She looked at him. Huge blue eyes, wide and a little uncertain. Satiny hair framing her face.
He took a single step backward and started to close the door.
"Hold on! I brought a peace offering!" She held up a big white bakery box, and he caught a whiff of fresh doughnuts. Blueberry filling, if he wasn't mistaken. His favorite. He wondered for a minute if she knew that because he'd told her, or because she'd been reading his mind.
Hell, no. If she could read his mind, she wouldn't be here without an armed bodyguard.
He pulled the door wider again. "What's this about, Aurora? What are you up to?"
This time her almond gaze slid from his, traveling slowly downward, and he squirmed a little, realizing he was standing there in nothing but a pair of boxers. Her eyes widened and she jerked them up again. "Maybe this was a bad idea." It was her turn to take a step backward.
He reached out fast, not quite sure why he did it, but sure enough, his hand was wrapped around her wrist and she was looking slightly alarmed.
He shook his head and let go. "Come on in, Aurora. Rest assured, if I get the slightest urge to try anything, my apartment will catch fire. You're perfectly safe with me."
She lowered her gaze quickly. Guiltily? What the hell...?
Sighing in resignation, she came in. He closed the door. "There's fresh coffee in the kitchen," he told her as her eyes once again slipped lower. "I suppose I'd better put some clothes on. You sure as hell aren't here to see me naked."
As he turned to go, she muttered something that sounded like, "A lot you know," and he spun around frowning at her, and asked, "What's that?"
"Nothing," she told him quickly. "Go ahead. Get dressed."
There was something different about her, he realized while he was searching her face. Something more than just the fact that she seemed nervous and less hostile than usual. And then it hit him. She was wearing more makeup than he'd seen her wear before. Subtle, but there, shadowing those blue eyes with mystery. Clusters of silver moons and golden stars dangled from her ears, and he thought he caught a whiff of exotic perfume mingling with the coffee and doughnut aromas. He looked her over more thoroughly than he had before, his curiosity piqued. She wasn't dressed for the hospital. Short black skirt and a semisheer blouse to match. He could see the darker shape of the bra she wore underneath. And her shoes were open toed, with heels four inches high.
What the hell was she doing here, dressed like that?
He took a step toward her, forgetting for a second that she was the woman he'd been fantasizing about murdering, and entertaining a few more pleasant fantasies instead.
Her eyes met his and widened. "I th-thought you wanted to get dressed," she stammered.
He stopped, the fantasy shattered. Who was he kidding? It wasn't going to happen. Hell, as much as he disliked her, he didn't think he wanted it to. No matter how deprived he was. He shook his head and turned to go into his bedroom.
When he came back, he found her in the kitchen, sitting at his small round table, staring into space with an unfocused look on her face, and stirring her coffee into a small caramel-colored whirlpool. The box of doughnuts sat in the middle of the table, unopened.
Nathan walked past her, poured himself a cup, and sat down opposite her. She seemed to pull herself together, and looked at him. "You didn't shave."
"Didn't know it was required," he responded. "I never shave on my day off."
"Oh."
He ran one hand over his stubble. Hell, some women found the unshaven look sexy. Or so he'd thought. It looked to him like it just made this one nervous. More nervous than she'd already been.
"So are you going to tell me what you're doing here dressed to kill, Aurora, or am I supposed to guess?"
She started, and glanced down at her attire. "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"
"Nothing."
"Then why—"
"What are you doing in my kitchen, Aurora?"
She licked her lips. Drew a breath. Stirred faster. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."
Aurora? Apologize? To him?
"I shouldn't have laughed at you. I just didn't realize you were serious, you know? You're always teasing me. I half expected you to follow it up with some lewd proposition or smart remark."
He didn't say anything, just sat there, watching her, waiting for her to cut to the chase.
"I wasn't laughing at you, Nathan, I was laughing with you. I thought you were joking—about the curse, not the other thing. I mean, I know you. I figured if you'd been celibate all this time it was because you had a good reason to want to be. I mean, come on. Look at you. Any woman would want..." She clamped her jaw as if to stop herself, and her eyes widened.
Nathan felt himself smile, just a little. So she did like the unshaven look after all, did she?
"That's not the part I have trouble with." He took a long, slow sip of the hot coffee, then lowered the cup. "Them wanting me, I mean. But something always happens. Just like this last episode with what's-her-name." He stopped talking and shook his head. "Why the hell am I even discussing this with you?"
"Because I can help you," she said. He met her eyes. She looked away, reaching for a doughnut he had a feeling she didn't want.
"I doubt that." He watched her face. "I don't know why I thought of asking you in the first place, Aurora. You know damned well I don't believe in your hocus-pocus bull."
Her eyes narrowed and anger reddened her cheeks. Her head came up fast, and her lips parted to deliver the scathing comeback he fully expected.
But it never came. She caught herself, drew a breath, closed her mouth.
"You can at least let me try."
Nathan leaned back in his chair, frowning at her. Now this was one hell of an interesting turn of events. Since when did she resist an opportunity to slam him? "How?"
"Well, this woman who ran your own car into you, you don't even remember her name."
"So?" He reached for his coffee, took another sip.
"Have they all been like that? Women you barely knew, just wanted to sleep with?"
He pursed his lips and thought about it. "Yeah, pretty much."
She shrugged, a delicate lift of one shoulder. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe you're subconsciously sabotaging yourself because you know you don't really want to sleep with a stranger."
His frown grew. "You sound more like a shrink than a Witch."
She tilted her head. "Maybe you'd be okay if your first time could be with someone...someone you know. Someone you've known for a long time."
"Yeah, right. Like who?" He took a big gulp of coffee this time. Bitter and black and strong, just the way he liked it.
"Like me."
The coffee spewed from his mouth like a geyser, showering the table, the doughnuts, and the front of that sexy blouse she was wearing. The cup fell to the floor, spilling what was left. And Nathan bent over the table choking on the small amount he'd managed to swallow.
Aurora came around the table to pound on his back, which any doctor should know was totally illogical, but was the instinctive reaction anyway.
He drew a few
wheezing breaths and managed to sit up straight again, as he lifted his head and stared into her eyes. She was joking. She must be joking.
She stared back at him, dead serious.
"Hell, you're not joking, are you?"
"I..." She took her hand off his back and shrugged. "I was just trying to help. If it seems so ludicrous to you, then just forget it."
Turning around, she headed for the door.
He leaped out of his chair as what might be his only chance at sex seemed about to flee. "Wait a minute! Hold on, for crying out loud."
She stopped, her back to him. And he stopped, too, looking her up and down from behind, liking what he saw, and shaking his head. This was too strange.
"You took me by surprise, that's all. Look, if you're willing...well, hell, Aurora, I'd be out of my mind to say no."
He saw her stiffen her back, square her shoulders, and slowly turn to face him, looking like Joan of Arc turning to face the stake. "All right then."
"All right then?"
She nodded, her face grim, and lifted trembling hands to the tiny buttons at the front of her blouse. "Let's get this over with."
Nathan stood there, feeling as if she'd just dumped ice water on him. "I can tell you're really looking forward to this."
"Don't get any ideas, Nathan. This is nothing personal." She unbuttoned another button. And then another. Crisp and efficient, she removed the blouse and stood there in a lacy black bra and a miniskirt, looking like every man's fantasy.
"So you don't really want me," he said flatly.
"Of course not."
"You're just doing this as a favor."
"Naturally." She reached behind her to unzip the skirt, pushed it down over her hips, and stepped out of it when it slid to the floor. The nylons were not panty hose—they were stockings, sheer and silky and held up by lacy red garters. The panties she wore were red, too, and skimpy. And her belly was smooth and tight, and her breasts round and firm behind that black scrap of lace that covered them. He wished he liked her at least a little bit.
He swallowed hard. It looked as if she'd come here for the sole purpose of bedding him. It made him nervous as hell. "And what do you get out of this?"
She shrugged again. "Nothing you need to know about. Are you going to stand there gawking or get naked?"
Good question. Nathan wasn't sure he wanted a woman who didn't want him back. But...what if she did? "Come here, Aurora."
He saw the alarm flash in her eyes, followed by resignation and stoic resolve. She stepped closer, then still closer, like the village virgin stepping up to the mouth of the volcano.
Nathan slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her against him. She was warm, trembling slightly. He bent his head and touched her lips with his. She gasped and drew away.
He pulled her close again. "Come on, Aurora. If you're afraid to even kiss me, how do you expect to do anything else?"
"I'm...n-not afraid."
"No?"
She shook her head.
"Prove it then. Kiss me like you mean it. Maybe even pretend to enjoy it." He didn't give her time to answer. He kissed her again.
It was slow, her reaction. Her lips relaxed bit by bit as he worked them, and even parted a little. Her arms went around him, palms pressed flat to his back, softly. Nathan touched her lips with his tongue, traced their shape lightly, then slid between them.
And she shivered.
A delicious little shiver. It made him shiver a little himself.
He cupped her bottom with his hands and pulled her hard to him, arched his hips so that he pressed tight into her, bent her backward, and proceeded to kiss the living hell out of her.
And surprise of surprises, she started kissing him right back. He felt her hands moving upward, threading into his hair, felt her body press against his. She tipped her head back and opened her mouth to him, and her tongue danced with his and tangled and fought.
He lifted his head slowly, staring down into her face. "I can't believe it," he said softly. Her eyes were glittering, her face flushed, her lips parted as short, shallow breaths rushed in and out between them. "You want me. You little fraud, you've wanted me all along."
"In your dreams," she whispered in a voice so sexy it sounded like an endearment.
He let his arms fall to his sides and stepped away from her. "You're a liar."
"I—" She followed him with her eyes as he bent to pick up her blouse, then her skirt, and turned to hold them out to her. "What...?"
"Put your clothes on, Aurora. I don't accept pity sex, so if that's what this is, you can forget it." It wasn't, though. He knew damn well it wasn't. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he wasn't going to do her unless she admitted it.
"But—"
"But nothing. I know you want me. And if you're honest with yourself, you know it, too. So why don't you just come back when you're ready to admit that, and then we'll see."
Her eyes rounded, gleaming with a slow burning anger and maybe just a hint of the humiliation he'd felt last night when she'd laughed in his face. Good.
"You arrogant, egotistical, stupid—"
"Yeah, yeah."
She pulled on her blouse in angry, jerky movements, and yanked the skirt up in much the same way. "You're going to regret this, Nathan McBride!"
She spun and slammed out of the apartment.
"Hell, Aurora," he whispered after she'd gone. "I already do."
Chapter Five
Aurora couldn't believe it. She was humiliated. She was disgusted. She was....
She was turned on.
By Nathan McBride, for Goddess' sake!
It wasn't as if she was some blushing, clueless virgin being assuaged by unfamiliar urges, either. She'd had men before. In college, in med school. Not many, but enough to know her way around.
So why had a single kiss from the man she'd spent her entire life detesting sent her senses spinning out of control? Why did it feel as if he'd made love to her more thoroughly than any man ever had, when all he'd done was kiss her?
Why had he turned her down?
"I'm pathetic," she whispered.
She'd made a fool of herself with Nathan just now, and she kicked herself for it all the way home. But as she walked up the front steps in the early-morning breeze, she knew that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was that she still had to make him sleep with her. Somehow. She had to. And she had to do it before this day ended. Because today was Halloween. At midnight tonight she would turn twenty-seven. There was no getting around it. She had to sleep with him.
But if that meant admitting to the creep that she might have decided it wouldn't be a totally revolting experience, it would never happen. She would die before she'd do that.
She stood there, not wanting to walk in and face her aunts, debating whether she could get away with sneaking off for the day, when the front door burst open. Aunt Merri stood there, her face chalk-white, her eyes wide.
"Aurora! Thank goodness! We've been calling..." Her voice trailed off and she blinked away the moisture gathering in her eyes.
Something terrible was happening. She knew it with every cell in her, and not just because of her aunt's stricken face.
Flora. It's Aunt Flora.
"Where is she? What happened?" Aurora followed quickly as Merriwether turned to hurry back inside.
Aunt Flora lay on the sofa, looking for all the world as if she was sound asleep. It was only Aurora's keen healing sense that told her otherwise.
"We can't wake her up," Fauna whispered, looking up into Aurora's eyes, her own red-rimmed and puffy. "She just came in here, laid down, and closed her eyes. And now we can't wake her up."
Aurora stared down at her beloved, fragile aunt, lying so still, and her heart tripped over itself in her chest. Vaguely she heard squealing tires as a car skidded to a stop out front, and then heavy steps thudded into the living room.
"Aurora?"
She turned. Nathan stood braced in the doorway, looking w
orried. "How did you—" she began.
"I called him, looking for you," Aunt Merri interrupted. "But you'd already left."
"Never mind that," Fauna said, and her voice was a plea. "Aurora, what's wrong with her? What—"
"I don't know." Her hands trembling, Aurora reached to her tiny aunt's throat to feel her pulse, soft and too slow. Her breaths were slow, too, and shallow. Her skin was clammy to the touch. Aunt Flora...her precious Flora.
So fragile, even in the best of health. "I... I can't..." Aurora sank onto the sofa beside her stricken aunt, battling tears that came anyway.
And then she felt Nathan's hands on her shoulders, a gentle squeeze. "Merriwether, call the hospital and tell them we're bringing her in. Fauna, will you get us a blanket? It's still chilly outside."
The two nodded and scurried to obey the calm orders he gave. And his hands were still on Aurora's shoulders, so he must feel her sobs.
"You can help her, Aurora. You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."
"What do you know about my emotions, Nathan?"
"Nothing. But I know what I saw when I was sixteen and hit that red-tailed hawk with my Mustang. You remember?"
She closed her eyes. How could she forget? It had been the first time she'd actually tapped into this power she'd been born with. She opened her eyes and looked at Nathan. "You don't believe in my...my hocus-pocus bull. Isn't that what you called it?"
"So maybe I lied." He was kneeling beside the sofa, his hands still on her shoulders. "And maybe it doesn't matter what I believe. It's what you believe that counts, here. So pull yourself together, Aurora. Your aunt needs you right now."
Something passed into her. Some calming, strengthening energy flowed, and she was too in touch with the vibrations around her not to be fully aware of it. The warm force moved from Nathan's hands, into her body where he touched her, and it filled her.
His own power, the power of his bloodline, from his ancestors. The power he didn't even know he had, still alive in his blood and somehow infusing her with courage. She closed her eyes, and he started to move his hands away from her. But she caught them with her own and held them to her shoulders, and felt the energy building until she brimmed with it. She'd drawn in the powers of Mother Earth and Father Sky and even the energies of the moon to empower her magick. But never the essence of another human being....
Three Witches and a Zombie Page 5
