Flashfire

by Deborah Cooke

  Cassie wasn’t the only one who had a question. Stacy waved hard enough to bring the house down. But Cassie knew that Lorenzo was watching her. She could tell by the way the hair was prickling on the back of her neck.

  He was good. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the focus of his attention, but Cassie was keenly observant. Her ability to interpret small signs and guess what any given person would do—or where he or she would go—had contributed to her success.

  And she knew Lorenzo would take this bait.

  He did. He turned to her with a dazzling smile. His gaze locked on hers and she suppressed a shiver. She couldn’t stop herself from standing taller beneath his attention, or from licking her lips.

  He smiled slowly at that, his eyes gleaming with intent.

  It was really hot in the theater and it seemed to get hotter just because Lorenzo was looking at her.

  Cassie held her ground and smiled back at him.

  “Our third question, from the lady who sparks the flame,” Lorenzo said, as smooth as butter. The audience cheered.

  “Ask him about me,” Stacy insisted in a whisper.

  Cassie couldn’t say a thing. She was staring at Lorenzo, her mouth dry.

  He spread his hands as he walked toward her, all masculine grace, then dropped to one knee at the closest point on the stage. His gaze locked on her and he arched his brow, inviting her question.

  Cassie thought she might spontaneously combust. There was a trickle of perspiration running down her back, but the more disconcerting heat was the one that simmered beneath her skin. Proximity only made him more alluring. She noticed the even tone of his tan, the muscled strength of his thighs, the grace of those strong hands. She saw the taut muscles of his chest—and the quirk of his smile just about dissolved her knees.

  She wondered again how he’d kiss.

  She wondered whether his skin was as warm as hers.

  She wondered how those hands would feel, sliding over her naked body.

  She wondered just how she had managed to lose her mind in an hour and a half.

  Then that spark leapt between his hands, seeming brighter than ever, blazing an arc from one palm to the other. Its golden light only made him look more handsome, dancing over the planes of his face and glinting in his dark hair. His eyes shone gold in the light of the flames and she had the sudden sensation that she was his prey.

  And that she didn’t care.

  He lifted his hands and the spark shot toward her in a massive arc of orange flame.

  The other flames in the theater leapt for the ceiling, blazing in unison. The entire theater was filled with the crackle of flames, the brilliant light of fire, while Cassie was filled with a simmering throb of desire.

  She had no idea how he did it, but it was impressive.

  The spark was hotter than it had been before, more sensual, and its impact nearly melted Cassie.

  Or was that the effect of having Lorenzo’s undivided attention?

  She halfway wished he’d put on some more clothes.

  The other half of her liked the view just fine.

  “And so, we have our third and final question,” he said in that dark chocolate voice. “From the lady who has lit my fire this afternoon.”

  The audience chuckled and Cassie felt herself flush.

  She could lose herself in those eyes. He watched her, unblinking, just his gaze making her mind turn in very basic directions. The reflection of the flames in his eyes would have made for a great photograph.

  “My question is this,” she said, speaking clearly and slowly. “Where would I find one of those dragon shape shifter guys, the Pyr, the ones Melissa Smith has been profiling on her television show?”

  There was one beat of silence.

  She heard Lorenzo catch his breath.

  Then his smile broadened.

  There was something calculating about that smile, something that might have worried Cassie if she’d been anywhere else in the world than in front of two thousand witnesses. A light dawned in Lorenzo’s eyes that was both wild and unpredictable, one that made her catch her breath at his raw sexuality. She sensed that he was about to surprise her.

  And she was excited by the prospect.

  Then he threw up his hands. The stage erupted in flames, as it had at the beginning of the show. This time, though, the flames burned as high as his shoulders.

  He repeated her question in his deep voice.

  Cassie was sure Lorenzo was stalling. She stared at him, not willing to back down. When he smiled at her again, she held his gaze, silently daring him.

  She expected him to come up with some palatable story.

  She expected him to try to fake out the audience.

  She expected him to do pretty much anything other than what he did do.

  Lorenzo’s eyes flashed. There was a strange shimmer of blue light around his body. The flames on the stage leapt even higher, as tall as him. He was obscured, except for that blue light. The shimmer became a glow, like a brilliant pale blue aura.

  “Right here at the Trial by Fire!” he cried, then leapt into the air.

  And disappeared.

  In the blink of an eye, a massive gold dragon appeared above the audience. Cassie gasped. The dragon’s scales could have been made of hammered gold, each embellished with cabochon gems. It looked as if the dragon had been made of medieval reliquaries.

  But it wasn’t mechanical. It moved with a lithe grace, a sinuous power that reminded Cassie of the swing of Lorenzo’s hips. And it was more than smoke and mirrors. Its golden wings flapped, ensuring that it hovered above the crowd, and Cassie felt the wind they created. The dragon breathed a plume of fire that crackled over the heads of the assembled crowd and Cassie felt its heat.

  “Amazing,” Stacy whispered.

  To Cassie’s surprise, the dragon even flew out over the astonished audience. She couldn’t see wires or mirrors anywhere, although there had to be some. She couldn’t see an image being projected from anywhere, either. She turned with everyone else, and watched the dragon in wonder.

  She felt its gaze lock upon her, as if it were real, as if it were a conscious creature, and her heart leapt. She was reminded of the way she’d felt when Lorenzo looked at her.

  Prey.

  Or treasure.

  The dragon swooped down over Cassie and snatched her off her feet in one great claw. She cried out in shock as she was swept into the air. It had to be a trick, but she couldn’t imagine how it worked. Dragons weren’t real.

  But this one felt real. She fingered its talons, the ones locked around her waist, and they felt solid. The dragon wasn’t cold either, but warm.

  And his eyes were a rich hazel, filled with humor.

  She looked down and she was definitely flying above the enraptured audience.

  When she touched the dragon’s nails, just to check, he laughed a deep dragon laugh.

  She saw his array of sharp white teeth and the dark hole of his gullet. She had an instant to dread the direction of this trick, and to fear that she might be a disappearing lady.

  Then there was another blinding shimmer of blue.

  Cassie opened her eyes when she felt something solid beneath her feet. She was standing on the stage. Lorenzo, the nearly naked sexy guy, had his arm around her shoulders. The flames had died down to nothing again. His grip was firm and possessive, a clear message that she shouldn’t move.

  Not that she wanted to. It wasn’t all bad being pressed against his strength. That simmering heat was rolling through Cassie, weakening her knees and making her keenly aware of the man who had her locked against his side. She could even see orange sparks dancing between them, vivid orange flames that seemed only to make her burn with lust.

  It looked as if her skin were on f
ire.

  Apparently, she was becoming delusional as well.

  Of course, it had been a while since she’d been caught against the chest of an incredibly hot and charismatic man. Her awareness of him was a natural reaction.

  Even though she’d never burned with a desire like this before.

  His thumb was tracing a hypnotic circle against her shoulder, one that seemed to sear through her shirt. She was tempted to wrap herself around him, or rub herself against him, or otherwise surrender to a temptation that she wasn’t used to feeling.

  She had to get out of this theater before she did something she’d regret.

  Lorenzo smiled at the audience, and his appeal was even more powerful at close range. Cassie wiggled a little to extricate herself from his embrace, but his grip tightened slightly.

  Then Lorenzo looked down at Cassie and she saw the reflection of flames in his eyes. At least, it had to be a reflection, because otherwise there would have been flames burning in his pupils.

  It had to be an illusion.

  Cassie looked closer, trying to discern the trick.

  “A man can wait a lifetime to meet a woman who kindles his desire,” he murmured with a smile. His voice was rich and melodic, the kind of voice a woman could listen to all night long. “Surely love is the true trial by fire.”

  “Love is the true trial by fire,” Cassie heard herself say. A part of her mind was incredulous that she had uttered any such garbage aloud.

  On the other hand, it seemed inevitable.

  Right.

  Uh-oh.

  The flames in Lorenzo’s pupils danced higher. Another trick. One she could surely figure out. She leaned closer and he lifted his other hand, his fingertips touching her chin. His hand was warm, his caress gentle.

  Cassie wanted more.

  No, she burned for more.

  “To surrender to the heat of the moment,” Lorenzo said.

  “To surrender to the heat of the moment,” Cassie said, her gaze falling to his firm lips, then back to those amazing eyes again.

  “Without regret.”

  “Without regret.” These words left Cassie’s lips like a sigh, a concession, a surrender to whatever he was going to do.

  Lorenzo’s eyes gleamed with mischief and the heat of desire redoubled, rolling through her body with urgent demand.

  Then Lorenzo pulled her to her toes and kissed her.

  Cassie heard the audience go wild. She heard the music soar and felt the curtain shut. She was sure she heard Stacy squeal.

  But she was too busy returning Lorenzo’s kiss to care. Pragmatic Cassie Redmond was overwhelmed by sensation for the first time in her life, and she didn’t want to change one thing. Lorenzo’s kiss was potent, both enticing and demanding, the kind of kiss that should close a show.

  Or bring down the house.

  Cassie slid her arms around Lorenzo’s neck and kissed him back. She twined her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, crushing herself against him. She heard Lorenzo’s possessive growl, and she felt his reaction against her hip. His arm locked around her waist and his mouth slanted over hers to deepen the kiss. The sparks leapt high all around them and the audience seemed very, very far away.

  She was more interested in the way Lorenzo’s tongue danced with hers. Cassie was feeling impulsive and in need of some fun.

  She was pretty sure she’d found it.

  Chapter 3

  Lorenzo was shocked, and it was a novel sensation.

  He’d been surprised by Ms. Practicality’s question. Whether there was more to this human than met the eye, or whether she was so caught in the spell of his beguiling that she’d given him the perfect question was irrelevant. He had no idea what she knew about the Pyr, much less why she was interested, and he didn’t care. Her query had given him the ideal way to close the show.

  Spectacularly.

  Always his favorite choice.

  What shocked Lorenzo the most, though, was this woman’s reaction to him. She’d witnessed his shift to dragon form and back again. She’d fingered his talon—no surprise, given her obvious skepticism—to check whether his dragon form was real. Yet she hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t run. She hadn’t turned away from him in revulsion.

  Far from it. She was no fainting damsel, and although he generally preferred meeker women—they were easier to leave behind when the time came—he was aroused by this woman’s passion.

  He’d expected—no, he’d known—that her reaction would be the complete opposite of what it was. Being wrong about this woman and his own reaction to her threw his game slightly.

  In a most delicious way.

  Erik would be livid that Lorenzo had broken the Covenant—that no Pyr should reveal himself to any human in both his human and dragon form—but Lorenzo would be only too happy to remind the leader of the Pyr that he had not actually sworn the Covenant. He couldn’t be berated for breaking a pledge he hadn’t made. Besides, he was consummating the firestorm, which was always a significant agenda issue for Erik.

  That might take the spark out of the inevitable argument.

  Lorenzo was ever so slightly troubled that he had shifted shape for the first time in centuries, and done so by choice, but he blamed that on the firestorm. The ends justified the means. He’d be back to normal in no time.

  Lorenzo was doubly relieved that the woman had been so readily beguiled. She must have found him attractive, which made it so much easier for him to seduce her. A human could only truly be beguiled to do something he or she already had some yearning to do. Her surrender made the matter much simpler.

  It was about time that his life became less complicated.

  When she kissed him back with such ardor, his hopes for an entertaining interval were increased. He’d never expected her to have any passion. They couldn’t extinguish the firestorm without surrendering to its demands, and Lorenzo had been afraid it might be a task.

  Instead, it promised to be a delight.

  After the curtain closed, Lorenzo swept the woman into his arms and headed for his dressing room. He broke a kiss only to dismiss his assistants with a single lethal glance. They scurried out of sight, already knowing it was smarter to keep their thoughts to themselves.

  Ms. Practicality, meanwhile, was pulling his head down for another soul-searing kiss. Her lips were swollen and red, and her face was flushed. The sparkle in her eyes and the hint of a smile was alluring. He smiled at her, then kissed her again. He kicked the door to his dressing room shut behind himself, locked it, and carried the woman to the bed in the back corner.

  She looked more irresistible by the second.

  There was no need for conversation. The firestorm’s flames flickered between them, setting the space between their bodies alight with orange light. The radiance of those flames touched the woman’s skin, gilding her cheeks, making her look more beautiful than he had expected.

  He was enchanted by her.

  Lorenzo rolled onto the bed, impatient to see the firestorm resolved, yet wanting to linger over the pleasure it promised. Once again, he was glad he had not skimped. This was no flimsy cot, but a queen-sized bed with a luxury mattress and sheets of finely woven cotton. It was stacked high with pillows and a wonderful duvet. He didn’t sleep here often, but Lorenzo saw no reason to ever make do with second best.

  The woman twisted in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. Even with her jeans and his swimsuit between them, he was well aware of the softness that denim hid. He braced himself over her and broke his kiss. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. The flames of the firestorm licked and danced between them, sizzling his skin and coaxing his desire to an inferno.

  “Wow,” she said and he liked the sound. He’d noticed when she asked her question that her voice was low and sultry, une
xpectedly so for a woman who looked so practical. At closer proximity, he could see that she was very pretty, her lashes a dark copper and her eyes a clear blue.

  That voice could persuade him to linger.

  That voice could persuade him to unravel all of her secrets.

  Lorenzo had no time.

  “No words today,” he murmured, dropping a finger to her lips to silence her, then slid his fingertips along her jaw.

  “But . . . ,” she began, but Lorenzo didn’t want to argue. He didn’t care what tools he used to achieve the end he desired.

  “But time is of the essence,” he murmured, letting the flames light in his eyes, the flames that persuaded humans to believe.

  “Essence,” she echoed.

  He could guess that she wasn’t one to act on impulse. This was a faster seduction than she would have preferred.

  But Lorenzo had no time to court her surrender.

  And he already knew that she wanted him. He was just being expedient, not changing the inevitable result.

  She stared at his eyes, apparently transfixed by the flames. Her lips parted in wonder, looking ripe and soft and tempting. Her ponytail had come loose and her hair was wavy and wild spread across the pillows. The sight of her reminded him of paintings of sirens and temptresses.

  He was tempted to make more of this than simply the firestorm’s satisfaction. He wanted her to have the best sex of her life. The firestorm might have drawn his eye to her, but now that he had looked, he wanted more than one quick interval.

  Temptation, indeed.

  Lorenzo coaxed the flames in his eyes to burn higher and her lips parted in awe as she stared.

  “Feel the heat between us,” he murmured, watching the firestorm’s flames dance between her skin and his fingertips. To his surprise, she reached up and slid her own fingers over his shoulders. He swallowed at the demanding heat she sent through his body.

  Maybe he wasn’t the only one casting a spell.

  He kissed her again, and she wrapped herself around him. The power of their kiss left him dizzy, and the insistent demand of her caressing hands prompted him to forget everything other than this woman.