A thrilling sensation flared through her body. Her stomach clenched, and her mouth went dry. Goddess help her, every ounce of her resistance melted like ice over an autumn bonfire, and her legs turned rubbery.
Peace within, peace within, she chanted silently as she tried to get a grip on herself. Despite her best efforts, her breath caught in her throat and every nerve ending prickled.
Was she reading his body language correctly? Despite everything that had happened, did he still want her?
He looked almost tempted to lean in for another kiss, and she braced herself to feel his warm lips pressing against hers. He remained where he was, leaving her breathless. When he released her, a chilled emptiness filled the space between them.
He cleared his throat and pointed toward a door. “There’s the bathroom. Go ahead and get cleaned up.”
“It’s your place,” she said, her teeth beginning to chatter. “You should go first.”
“You are my guest. There are clean towels in the cabinet. Just don’t hog all the hot water.”
He gave her a stare that told her he wouldn’t tolerate any further argument.
Lizzie hurried inside and shut the door before she did something foolish. Leaning back against the wooden frame, she pressed her palm over her fluttering heart. “Aphrodite, calm my senses,” she whispered.
After shedding her clothing, she turned on the water and stepped beneath the warm, moist droplets. She groaned with frustration, wondering how long she could hold out being around Kincaid and not cave into her overwhelming desire for him.
Chapter Eleven
At the sound of shower water pattering, Kincaid relaxed. He paced back and forth, realizing his attraction toward Lizzie was unhealthy. He’d already battled it once, and now he’d fallen into the same predicament.
She’d always inflamed his desires, but now her presence teased him mercilessly. A part of him wanted to believe he worried for her because she was his client.
Another part of him knew better.
He headed to the galley, desperately in need of libation to dull his senses. In the refrigerator, he scooted aside items until he came up with a can of beer. He popped the top and guzzled the cool liquid, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
He glared at the walls as he thought about Lizzie, so close in proximity, but so far away in emotion. It would be dangerous to follow up on his whims. Where the raven-haired witch was concerned, he seemed unable to think straight.
He glanced at the aquarium on his bookshelf. Inside the tank, leafy plants surrounded a glass octopus with tentacles clutching a sunken pirate’s chest. Colorful salt water fish dodged in and out of the greenery, completely oblivious to anything other than the source of their next meal.
Ah, to live the simple life of a fish.
Imps of hell, he felt like a boy with his first crush. His troubled thoughts were interrupted when Lizzie came out of the bathroom wearing his bathrobe, which revealed just enough of her moist, creamy breasts to offer a tempting view. He swore under his breath.
She must have noted his frustration.
“I hope you don’t mind that I put this on,” she said, plucking at the collar. “I tried to conjure up something to wear, but I got dizzy and decided I’d better not push it.”
“Sit down, lass.” Cursing himself for allowing her into the shower alone, he realized she could have fallen. Irritated at his thoughtlessness, he nodded toward the couch. She sank into the cushions and leaned her head against the back of the sofa. Eyes closed, she murmured, “There should be plenty of warm water left.”
Fond memories stirred in his mind and he recalled the time they went skinny dipping in a highland lake surrounded by a fringe of evergreens. So fresh and full of life, Lizzie had brought laughter and love into his world.
He’d lent her his tartan shawl—a colorful mixture of red and green plaid. She’d dried off on the material, then stretched out naked on a grassy spot. Her full breasts had quickly drawn his gaze, along with the rest of her perfectly formed body and the inviting juncture between her thighs.
Without compunction, he’d stretched out alongside her. He’d run his hands along her soft skin, from her shoulders down her legs. Laughing, she’d rolled over and straddled his groin, then leaned over and kissed him.
Her irresistible charm had tempted him beyond all reason, and he’d made slow, sweet love to her. Young and careless, he’d never given a second thought to the consequences of letting the ravishing maiden into his life. Even now, he had no regrets, just bittersweet memories that he’d clung to for far too long.
“You are going to shower, right?” Lizzie peered at him, curiosity sparkling in her dark eyes.
“Aye,” he returned in a gruff tone.
He strode inside the bathroom, flinging aside his cloak. As he turned on the shower, he recalled Lizzie’s astute nature. She’d always had the ability to guess his thoughts.
He’d better guard his secrets well.
***
Lizzie yawned and stretched, wondering how long she’d been asleep on the couch. She didn’t have time for catnaps. The ship’s rocking motion caused her stomach to lurch, and she fought off queasiness.
When her fingertips grazed across a blanket, she realized someone had covered her. Kincaid. She smiled at the tender gesture. It faded, however, as she recalled the hard, steely glint his eyes had held before he headed off to shower.
It had been far from affectionate.
Spotting Kincaid standing in the ship’s control room, she made her way toward his tall, broad-shouldered form. He stood with legs spread wide—a man accustomed to the rocking motion of his ship. Jeans hugged his lean hips and he wore sturdy black boots. The blue material of his button-down shirt matched the color of his eyes.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Not long. Maybe ten minutes.”
Lizzie relaxed. Thank goodness.
Kincaid glanced at a glowing, three-dimensional map displaying a miniature view of the surrounding ocean.
“That’s a clever gadget,” she said.
“It’s a halo chart,” he said. “See that mass off to the northeast? We’re headed straight into a major squall.”
Lizzie trusted Kincaid’s navigation skills, but worry still gnawed at her. “That’s a huge storm.”
“We’ll ride it out, lass. Iolar’s safe and sound.”
Though she believed in Kincaid, concern rose within her. “Won’t the storm throw us off course?”
“Aye, it might if Iolar was a normal ship.” He ran his hand through his thick red hair. “But she’s special. A mere storm won’t stop her.”
When the ship heaved to the side and she fell against Kincaid, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean against his sturdy frame. Lightning zigzagged through the sky, thunder rumbled and rain pattered down on the windshield.
“Won’t this delay us?
“No,” he assured her in a firm tone.
She met his gaze. “How will we find the Land of the Fae?”
“I’ve programmed Iolar to transport us to the Faery Kingdom using an ocean portal.” He pointed toward a glowing red dot on the chart. “There it is. We’ll reach it shortly.”
A huge wave splashed across the window, sluicing it with dark water. Kincaid waved his hand and a silver covering encased the windshield, closing the ship to the outside. He nodded toward the sleeping alcove.
“Crawl in and relax. It’ll be a smooth transition through the portal and we’ll arrive soon.”
She walked over and slid atop the blankets, but as he turned to leave, she grasped his hand. “Where are you going?”
“To my desk. I’ve got some paperwork to do.”
“Stay.”
Kincaid raised a brow.
Lizzie realized it might be a dangerous proposition to ask him to remain with her, but she wanted him near. It wasn’t easy to explain why. She felt out of her element—nervous, in fact.
“Seriously
, Kincaid. I’d like you with me.”
“I’ve got work to do,” he insisted.
She patted the bed. “Please.”
Though the hard slant of his jaw indicated he didn’t want to comply, he finally sat down.
By the Goddess, he is stubborn.
***
As Kincaid settled next to Lizzie, he realized the cramped quarters left him at a distinct disadvantage. The sleeping alcove had been designed for one individual, not two. Nevertheless, he relaxed when her warmth melded with his, her body so close, yet forbidden.
If she got under his skin again, he might make critical mistakes. He couldn’t let that happen. He pressed his boots up against the wall at the end of the bed, not daring to move a muscle.
“My stomach feels terrible,” she muttered. “And I’m cold.”
Despite his better judgment, he drew her closer to his side. She slowly relaxed, as though she, too, sensed the danger of them getting too close. Yet, she’d insisted he remain. It didn’t make sense. Since she was his client, he remained.
He didn’t like it, though.
When the vessel tilted sideways, gravity pressed their bodies together and their limbs became intertwined.
She grinned up at him.
For some stupid reason, he grinned back.
Propping himself on his elbow, he said, “Lizzie girl, I din’na ever mean to hurt you.”
“We were so young,” she murmured.
Even when the ship leveled out, she didn’t attempt to unwind her legs from his. With her curves so close, Kincaid realized how comfortable he felt being with her. Their bodies seemed like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.
Even though he knew better, he didn’t move away.
Reason disappeared from his mind and he focused only on the wonderful sensations rippling through his body. He and Lizzie had been apart far too long. It was risky to his heart, but to hell with that.
Drawing in a hesitant breath, he allowed himself to enjoy the sight of her smooth, creamy face, arched brows, high, rosy cheeks, and her plump, kissable lips. His body ached with need.
I want her.
“Kincaid, what happened with us? Why did you really leave me?” Lizzie’s voice trembled, as though she, too, was affected by their embrace.
“I din’na want you to find out what I was.”
“Why?”
He sighed, breaking his rules to never confide in anyone. He just couldn’t resist where Lizzie was concerned.
“Everyone in my life has rejected me. I could’na bear the idea of you doin’ the same.”
She frowned. “Why did you assume I would do that?”
Feeling the same sense of loss he’d experienced as a boy, his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “I don’t belong anywhere, lass. I’m a freak of nature.”
“That’s nonsense, Kincaid. By those standards, I’m a freak, too.”
He shook his head. “Most half-breed wulvers never survive infancy. But I did. My father never expected that, and he didn’t know what to do with me. Neither did my mother. They could’na handle what I am, so eventually they both abandoned me.”
Lizzie pressed her palms on either side of his face and looked into his eyes. “You’ve got to fight your demons. Don’t let them get the best of you.”
He drew her closer. Her words were like a balm on his wounded soul and he wanted her by his side. No one had ever offered him this kind of understanding, and he craved it from her most of all.
“Your witch’s clan would’na have approved if we’d decided to be together, Lizzie.”
She gave a soft laugh. “The Supreme Witch’s Council is bunch of snooty old biddies that make up impossible rules for the rest of us to follow. But rules are made to be broken, Kincaid.”
“They would consider me a werewolf, dangerous and wild. But I’m not like the fearsome creatures depicted in novels and movies. My mind is my own when I’m in wolf form, and I’m not consumed by animalistic tendencies. I protect humans and all others.”
“As do white witches,” she said in a solemn tone. “Who gives a hoot that you can turn into a wolf? I can turn myself into many things if I choose.”
He could hear the acceptance in her voice. It both amazed and frightened him. All this time, he’d convinced himself she would hate him for what he was. He’d been such a fool.
She poked him in the ribs. “Obviously it’s not the full moon that causes you to grow fangs and fur. You did it when we were running from the banshees.”
“I can control my transformations. After all this time, I have it down to mere seconds.”
“I’ve encountered many supernatural beings in my life. But you’re the first wulver I’ve ever known. How did your parents meet?”
He chuckled. “They argued over a basket of bread in a small Scottish village on the isle of Trondra. Typically, wulvers stay close to their packs, which are hidden deep in the wooded hills. But my dad loved roaming the countryside.”
“You inherited his penchant for wandering.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “All this time, I feared you’d left me for another woman.”
“Nay, there’s never been another as fine as you, Lizzie girl.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes. “You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
Kincaid smoothed the dark hair from her forehead. He expected her to push aside his hand, but she didn’t. Instead, she kissed his palm and stared at him, her moist lips glistening.
Forgetting all about the reasons why he shouldn’t kiss her, he captured her mouth with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer.
Kincaid’s penis grew hard and strained at the crotch of his trousers. The burning desire he’d kept at bay for Lizzie consumed his soul and controlled his reason.
Flames of passion burst inside of him and he knew only Lizzie could quench them.
***
Lizzie reveled in Kincaid’s kisses raining down on the sensitive hollow of her neck. Though she tried to tame her rising passion, knowing that being with him might only cause her more heartbreak, she couldn’t stop herself.
The man she’d loved with all her heart had returned. The circumstances might be dire, yet she didn’t want to delve too deeply into the reasons why the fates had allowed it to happen. She simply couldn’t resist this driving need to be with him and to be loved by him.
The last time Kincaid had walked away from her, she’d thought she’d never be the same. But time had taught her many things. She decided she could handle what might happen.
This moment in time, she wanted every ounce of the paradise she knew he could offer.
When he slowly peeled the bathrobe from her shoulders, she shuddered, but allowed him to bare her breasts. He removed his clothes and boots, tossing them aside. A husky groan escaped him as he lowered his shaggy head down and began to suckle her nipples.
She arched against him. Rapture blossomed within her at the feel of his lips once again worshipping her skin. Wild, fevered passion gripped her senses. Her breathing came in heavy gasps. Molten heat seeped through her throbbing abdomen.
His hot breath rasped across her chest and up to her face again as he peppered her cheeks with kisses. As he levered himself above her, his gaze met hers. The burning need blazing in those blue depths said it all, yet he interrupted the silence by speaking.
“Lizzie, girl. I want you. I ache for you. But—”
“Shhh.” She pressed her fingers against his lips to stifle any of his protests. “We can learn to love each other again.”
He pried her fingers from his lips and spoke in a gravelly voice. “I had to leave you once. I won’t put you through that pain again.”
Lizzie gripped his buttocks and drew his hips closer to hers. He inhaled sharply as his penis pressed against her thigh. The strain on Kincaid’s face made it evident he tried to resist his needs. But she had needs as well. They were together now, and despite all that stood between them, she wanted him. Plain and simple.
Lifting up, she kissed his raspy chin.
“I only want to make love with you.”
“I don’t know if I can ever offer you my heart, lass. My life is treacherous.” He drew his brows together and licked his lips, anticipation shining in his eyes.
“I don’t want your heart right now, Kincaid.” She boldly caressed his manhood. “I want this.”
Chapter Twelve
Kincaid surrendered to Lizzie’s velvet touch, thrusting in and out of her hand. When her mouth closed around his turgid need, he gritted his teeth and stroked her silken hair, grasping it in his fist, drawing her closer. Up and down she bobbed, readying him with her mouth and tongue.
About to burst and realizing he couldn’t wait any longer, he pressed on her shoulders and she fell back against the pillows, her flushed skin as lovely as he remembered. Full breasts, tipped by rosy pink nipples, met his gaze. When she parted her thighs, he felt himself grow even harder and moisture dribbled from the tip of his penis. A red haze drifted before his eyes.
Positioning himself between her legs, he pressed his phallus near the dark curls. She scooted closer toward him and gripped his buttocks. Her insistent touch made it difficult to restrain his need, but he wasn’t finished with her. He knew what pleased her the most.
She sent him an urgent look, her liquid brown eyes beseeching. “Kincaid, stop teasing me!”
Chuckling, he inserted two fingers into the pink cleft of her silken womanhood. She moaned as he swirled them around. A few seconds later, he placed his moistened index finger on the nub of her desire and massaged rhythmically until she began to buck in a wild frenzy. She pressed herself against his touch, panting and silently begging him for more.
Not until she reached her pinnacle with a shuddering cry did he rise up and thrust his penis into her burning core. In and out he moved, and she met him thrust for thrust, her back arching so that he could consume every inch of her. Lifting up her buttocks, his fingers pressed into the pliant flesh.
For this sensational moment in time, Lizzie belonged to him, body and soul. He drove inside of her, possessing all that she offered. As ecstasy shot through him, he arched his neck, feeling the wolf’s primal growl rising in his throat.
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