by R. L. King
He could try to deny it, but she could see auras too, and he’d made no effort to hide his own. “I do—but—”
She kissed him again, her insistent lips brushing away his words. Her hands worked beneath his shirt, pulling it upward, breaking the kiss again long enough to pull it free and then moving in for more.
Stone didn’t fight it. Why should he? Why should his own conscience get in the way of something they both clearly wanted? There was no impropriety—she was fully of age, certainly knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t as if he’d done anything to encourage her. Not overtly, anyway. Perhaps Eddie and Arthur (and even Imogen, he reminded himself) were right. Perhaps he’d been denying the inevitable for no good reason.
He pulled her closer, meeting her kiss with his own, his hands sliding up beneath her sweatshirt. “You…looked amazing in that dress tonight…” he murmured.
She let him pull the sweatshirt free and toss it aside. “You always look amazing…” Stepping back, she turned him around until he stood next to the bed. Eyes glittering, she put her finger in the center of his chest and shoved him back until he was seated on the edge, then straddled his lap, her arms going around him.
Even now, that dissociated part of Stone was trying to resist, but he was beyond listening to it as his body responded to her touch. He lay back, pulling her down on top of him. “This is…what you want, Verity?” he asked, his voice so rough now that it was barely intelligible. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, yeah…This is what I want…Alastair.”
Hearing her use his given name for the first time ever sent a tingling, electric chill through him. “Well, then…” he murmured, switching off the room’s single light with a flick of magic, “I think we’re in agreement.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Stone awoke early the following morning, as the faint light of dawn reached him through the narrow opening in the room’s heavy curtains.
He was alone.
He stretched, his mind replaying the pleasant dream he’d had until the specifics came crashing back to him, bringing the guilt with them. Verity? He’d dreamed about making love with Verity. He shouldn’t do that—not even in his dreams.
But yet, he couldn’t deny it had been wonderful. There had been no guilt then, no tension, no hesitation—the two of them had joined together as if they’d always been meant to be, both of them using their magical senses to give and receive pleasure until they nearly couldn’t bear the sensations any longer. He remembered the feeling of her afterward, her warm body curled against him, her head on his chest, his arm draped protectively over her as they both dropped off to sleep without any cares or regrets.
If only…
And then the rest of the memories hit, and it all came back at once.
Oh, bloody hell…
Tentatively, afraid of what he might discover, he pushed the covers back.
The impression in the bed next to him told him everything he needed to know, even before he discovered he was naked. He never slept naked, except after…
Oh, bloody hell.
He sat up and took a quick look around the room.
There was no sign of her. Her clothes were gone, the door closed. He got up for a better view, but she hadn’t left anything behind—not even a note. His heartbeat increased, and flush of tension worked its way through his body as he glanced toward the closed door to the bathroom. “Verity?” he called tentatively. “Are you in there?”
No answer.
What have I done?
He knocked on the door just in case, then pushed it open. The bathroom was empty; the only sign that anyone had used it was the towel he’d tossed on the floor following his shower the previous night.
For a moment he stood in the middle of the room, his mind spinning, unable to decide what to do. His image regarded him from the mirror: pale, stubbled face, haunted eyes, disarrayed hair. Had she gone back to her room? Had she taken the portal back to California? Should he even try to go after her?
Whatever he ended up doing, he had no doubt of one thing: this would change everything.
“No, no, no…” he murmured, rubbing his hand over his face and up through his hair.
Unwilling to make a more definitive decision yet but knowing he’d have to soon, he took a quick shower and dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. By the time he finished, it was barely after seven a.m.
Perhaps she’d gone back to her room, and was sleeping now. She wasn’t an early riser any more than he was.
Moving slowly, as if afraid his footsteps would disturb her, he left his room and walked down the hall to her bedroom door.
It was, of course, closed.
He stood a moment, uncertain, his shaking hand hovering near the door.
But no. He wouldn’t wake her, if she was asleep.
He paused a little longer, almost as if hoping she’d somehow pick up on his presence, then turned and headed downstairs, grabbed his overcoat, and left the house.
He’d been walking for quite some time before he spotted her. He hadn’t been looking for her, and in fact had no expectation he’d find her; he’d simply set off from the house and picked a direction at random, paying little attention to where he was going. In truth he barely noticed, his thoughts in such turmoil that little things like routes and destinations didn’t even enter into the equation. He’d go where his feet took him, and trust his natural self-preservation instincts to keep him from walking off a cliff or something. The day, overcast and uncertain, mirrored his uneasy mind.
Eventually the narrow, overgrown path he’d been walking along opened out into a large, circular clearing, its beds of flowers, vines, and low hedges carefully planted to form a magical space. Around it, weathered statuary presided at the four points, and in the center was a tall plinth topped with a crystal globe the size of a man’s head. Outside the circle, several stone benches provided resting places for those who might wish to meditate here, or observe whatever ritual might be taking place. The area had been on yesterday’s tour, but Stone hadn’t paid special attention to it; the women had shown him and Verity several similar locations scattered around the compound’s wild land.
She stood on the other side of the clearing, examining one of the statues. He watched her for a moment; like him she wore jeans, with her hooded sweatshirt under her old black leather jacket—the biker one, not the sleeker version Jason had given her for her twenty-first birthday.
When she didn’t turn, he hesitated, unsure of whether he should disturb her—whether he had a right to disturb her. If she’d come out here because she didn’t want to talk to him, to see him, to deal with him…
She turned then, perhaps as some sixth sense alerted her to his presence. For several seconds the two of them merely regarded each other in silence, and then she gave him a faint smile. “Hi.”
“Good morning.” He kept his voice soft and even, and didn’t move to approach her. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to intrude. I…was just out for a walk.”
“No, it’s okay. I was too. Wanted to get out of the house for a little while.”
Wanted to get away from you, he heard, though he had no idea if that was what she’d actually meant. “How long have you been out here?”
“An hour or so, maybe,” she said with a shrug. “Haven’t really been keeping track.”
He nodded. “Er—right, then. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Doc?”
He stopped, half turned away from her in preparation to retrace his path. Something inside him twinged: so we’re back to ‘Doc,’ then. It shouldn’t have surprised him. “Yes?”
“Please—don’t go yet.”
He turned the rest of the way back. She was watching him, her expression difficult to read, her eyes fixed on his. “Verity, I—”
“Will you—sit down for a few minutes? I think we need to talk.”
Yes, I
suppose we do. Tenseness gripped his body. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah. Don’t you?”
Moving as if expecting to step on land mines on the way, he walked to the nearest bench and sat down. “I—don’t think it’s for me to say, honestly. Verity, I—” His thoughts whirled in turmoil: guilt at what had happened, anger at himself for letting it happen, more guilt at how much he had enjoyed it. She’d enjoyed it as well—she wasn’t good enough at magic yet to hide that in her aura. But that didn’t make it any better. He should have been stronger. He should have stopped it before it took hold. And now it was over, it had happened, and there was no taking it back.
She came over and sat next to him. The bench was small enough that their shoulders touched; he could feel hers trembling, and wondered if his was too. As she spoke, she stared at the crystal globe on the plinth in the circle’s center. Her voice was soft, faraway, as if she were talking to herself. “When I came to your room last night…that wasn’t why. That…wasn’t what I had in mind. I want you to know that.”
He didn’t look at her either. “I—didn’t think it was.”
“I really did want to talk to you about my future. I’d been thinking about what Ms. Canby and the others had said all night, and when I got back to my room I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d see if you were awake.”
Stone didn’t answer. He studied the crystal globe. Despite its location and exposure to the elements, it remained smooth, clear, and free of grime.
“I’m…not sure exactly what happened. I tried to think about it when I woke up this morning, but I couldn’t.”
Stone swallowed, his gut clenching with guilt again. “Verity…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should have let that get out of hand.” He stared down at his hands in his lap. He wanted to jump up, to get the hell out of there, to remove himself from her presence. He was her master, her mentor—he was supposed to be stronger than this.
“Hey…look at me, will you?”
With reluctance, he did so.
Her gaze met his steadily, her eyes glittering. “It’s not your fault. Don’t talk to me like it is.”
He had to use all his willpower not to look away. “But it was.”
“How?”
“How could it not have been? I never should have let it go so far. I could have stopped it—”
“Hey, wait a sec.” She touched his arm, and her expression grew stern. “You don’t get to do that.”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not all on you. Not by a long way. Come on, Doc—I know you. You’re not like this. Don’t give me any of this typical-guy crap. You’re better than that.”
“What?” He looked at her in confusion. The conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected—not that had any idea how he expected it to go even under the best of circumstances.
She let go of his arm, but leaned in a little closer. “Did you want what happened last night?”
“Verity—”
“Answer me.” Her voice was still soft, but held a command nonetheless. “Did you?”
He did look away then. He couldn’t lie to her—even if she couldn’t read his aura, it wouldn’t be fair to her. “Yes,” he whispered. “But—”
“But nothing.” She twisted on the bench and gripped his shoulders. “You wanted it. And…so did I.”
He looked at her, unable to hide his surprise.
“Look,” she said. “I’m not going to say it wasn’t…weird. How it happened, I mean. I’m not kidding—I didn’t come to your room last night intending for that to happen. I swear I didn’t. Maybe I was just feeling alone. Maybe I had too much to drink. I don’t know. But—you were honest with me, and I have to be honest with you. I’ve…well, I’ve thought about it. A lot. And when I saw you last night, something just…I don’t know…slipped into place, like it never has before.” She looked away, then back at him. “All I know is I wanted you. More than I’ve wanted anything else in a long time.”
He didn’t answer. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d always thought that, despite a growing attraction to her that he refused to allow himself to acknowledge, her preference for female partners would somehow inoculate them both against the very thing that had happened last night. He knew she’d dated—possibly even slept with—a few men, but those relationships had never lasted as long as the ones with women. “You…did?”
“Yeah,” she said like it was obvious. “Come on, Doc—false modesty doesn’t fit you at all. You honestly can’t see how I might be attracted to you?”
Once again, he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “But—this shouldn’t be happening. Our relationship—I’m supposed to be your teacher.”
She shook her head. “That won’t be true forever—not even for much longer. I—I won’t lie. It was awkward. As fantastic as it was, when I woke up this morning, I felt…I don’t know. I felt like it shouldn’t have happened, for all the reasons you said. I sat there and watched you sleeping for about twenty minutes before I finally left, too scared to wake you up but hoping you would.”
She’d been watching him as he slept, and he hadn’t awakened? He shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench. “So what do we do now?” he asked. “I feel like this…well, like it’s changed everything.”
She nodded soberly. “Yeah…me too.” She pulled him into a gentle hug. With her face buried in his shoulder, she murmured, “I…I think I might love you, D…Alastair. But…I don’t think I’m ready for that yet, you know?”
He returned the hug, rubbing her back in its soft leather jacket. “I understand completely. I do. And…I know I love you, Verity. I think I’ve known it for a long time, though I don’t think I truly realized it until the last year or so. But…that doesn’t answer the question. How do we go on from here?”
She pulled back and gave him a smile that was half impish, half serious. “Well—for starters, we don’t tell Jason.”
He chuckled in spite of himself. “Yes, I’d worked that part out. I value my continued existence.”
“But…” Her expression sobered. “I’m thinking…it might be best if we had a little time away from each other. It’s going to be…weird…for me to live with you now, if we’re not—”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But your studies. Do you still want to—”
“Yeah. I do. I still want to finish my apprenticeship with you. But after…a little break.”
Stone indicated the clearing, and the area surrounding it. “Have you decided yet whether you want to study here, with Ms. Canby and her group?”
“Not yet. I think I do—I think what they could teach me could be really useful going forward. But I don’t want to do it right away, even if I end up doing it eventually.” She pondered. “I’m thinking I might give Sharra a call and see if I can go visit her for a while. Sort of…put things back on a normal track, you know? And after, when I come back, if I don’t decide to come here first, I’ll try harder to find a job so I can get my own place.”
Stone bowed his head. Verity had always been level-headed and mature for her age, but right now it seemed strange to hear her speaking about all of this so matter-of-factly—especially when he could see from her aura that her emotions were anything but matter-of-fact. “Verity—”
She hugged him again. “It’s okay, Doc. Really, it is. Don’t feel bad. How can you? That was…amazing, last night. Didn’t you think so?”
“It…was,” he admitted. He couldn’t lie about it. Most of his numerous partners over the years had been mundanes, but as a fellow mage, Verity’s aura-reading abilities had meant she could respond to his desires every bit as well as he could to hers. He’d been with mages before, but surprisingly rarely. He’d nearly forgotten how both partners having the Talent could elevate the experience to a higher level.
She kissed him, then pulled back. “C
ome on,” she said softly. “Everything’s good. I promise. Don’t you dare feel guilty. We’ll make this work, one way or another. For now, I think we should just go back home. Let things rest for a while, and…see what happens. Okay?”
“Yes.” He rose from the bench. The guilt hadn’t left, not entirely, but some of the tension he’d felt earlier had ebbed away, leaving him with an odd combination of exhilaration and exhaustion. “Yes, I think that’s a brilliant idea.” He took her hand. “Verity, did I ever tell you before that I find you quite extraordinary?”
“Nope,” she said with another of her impish grins. “You’re my teacher, remember? You probably think it’ll give me a big head or something.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. And I am still your teacher, so I expect you’ll keep up your studies while you’re away visiting Sharra.”
They began the long walk back to the house. “So much for getting special treatment for sleeping with the teacher,” she grumbled. She squeezed his hand and then let go, and they continued on their way in silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
They returned home quickly after that, stopping only long enough to pack up their things and inform Anna Canby that Verity would need more time to make up her mind about coming back to study with the group.
Canby was gracious in her acceptance. “As I said, there’s no hurry. You have our contact information—if you should decide you’d like to come back, the invitation is always open.”
Stone watched her as she spoke to Verity. Even though it was absurd, he was somehow convinced that she, and every other woman at the complex, knew what had occurred between him and Verity the previous night. He had nothing to indicate it was true—their auras remained as calm and unruffled as ever, and it wasn’t as if anyone was giving them the sly side-eye when they thought no one was paying attention. Damn it, stop acting like a guilty schoolboy, he told himself angrily as Lila calibrated the portal for their return trip and Canby stood by to bid them a final farewell. It wasn’t any of the women’s business—if they even gave a damn—and in any case, residual guilt notwithstanding, he and Verity had done absolutely nothing wrong.
