Gift of Fire

by Jayne Ann Krentz

She began to grow more and more anxious as Jonas retreated behind a wall of deepening silence. Perhaps he needed to go through some sort of mourning period, she told herself. The psychic talent had been the bane of much of his adult life, but it had been an integral part of him. Losing it must have been like losing a hand, or an arm, or one of the five senses. Verity forced herself to be understanding and undemanding. She took great pains to be good-natured and sweet.

  She didn’t nag him to finish the report for the Warwicks. She didn’t urge him to write any more articles for the academic journals. She temporarily shelved her big plans to have him do a piece on Renaissance weapons for National Geographic. And she didn’t bring up the subject of another consulting assignment.

  But the more understanding she became, the more Jonas withdrew. It was a frustrating spiral, and as she got more and more enmeshed in it all her old fears were revived. She was convinced that Jonas would leave again. And this time, she thought, he might go away for good.

  The bottom line here, she thought grimly, was that Jonas didn’t need her the way he once had. She was no longer his psychic anchor. She was merely his lover and the mother of his child—a child he had never planned to have.

  It was unfortunate that in the dead of winter, business was light at the No Bull Cafe. Verity had too much time to think.

  “When’s the wedding?” Laura Griswald asked at the end of the week. The two women were sharing a spa pool after hours. Crystal-clear water bubbled and steamed around them.

  “I’m not sure there’s going to be one,” Verity said quietly.

  “You mean you two haven’t talked marriage yet?” Laura’s brows arched in disbelief. “I thought for sure that when you came back from the vacation up north it would all be settled.”

  “I thought it was.”

  Laura leaned forward, her expression one of deep concern. “Verity, are you telling me that Jonas doesn’t want to marry you? He doesn’t want the baby?”

  “I don’t know what Jonas wants,” Verity said as she stood up and reached for her towel. “I’m not sure he knows, either.”

  “I can’t believe this. I was so sure everything would work out between you two.”

  “Men are a little more complicated than I once gave them credit for,” Verity said curtly. “At least Jonas is.” She turned around quickly before Laura could see the tears in her eyes, and hurried toward the changing booth.

  She dressed in her jeans and a yellow cotton shirt and headed for the resort’s lounge. Jonas would be waiting. He still insisted on accompanying her when she wanted a late-night soak. He refused to let her walk back alone along the icy path to the cottage.

  Verity saw him as she entered the lounge. He sat slouching with casual grace on a bar stool, his boots hooked over the brass foot railing. He was draining the last of his scotch. And he was not alone.

  “Dad! You’re back!” Verity ran toward her father. “When did you get in?”

  Her father swung around on the bar stool and folded his daughter in a bear-sized embrace. “Got in about an hour ago. Found Jonas holding down the bar all by himself and thought I’d keep him company until you showed up.”

  Verity ignored Jonas, who was giving his full attention to his drink. She smiled brilliantly at her father. “Did Jonas tell you the news?”

  “What news?”

  Jonas froze. He shot Verity a glowering look over his shoulder. She paid him no attention.

  “I’m pregnant,” Verity said demurely and watched with delight as her father leaped to his feet.

  Emerson Ames let out a whoop of joy, grabbed his daughter by the waist, and swung her around in a wide arc. Two people sitting at a nearby table ducked quickly.

  “You’re pregnant? I’m going to get a grandkid? Bless you, my darling red-haired daughter! What the devil took you so long? Yahoo and pour me another drink, Clement. A big one. Hell, pour everyone in the joint another drink” Emerson turned expansively to address the small crowd. “This round’s on me, folks. Drink up. I’m gonna be a granddaddy.” There was a smattering of applause and appreciative laughter. Emerson draped a burly arm around his daughter’s shoulders and hugged her while he grinned widely at Jonas. “So when’s the wedding? I gotta get me a new suit for this.”

  Jonas swiveled halfway around on the stool, one arm resting along the edge of the bar. He gazed at Verity through narrowed lids. “Who said anything about marriage?”

  Emerson’s euphoric expression turned thunderous in the wink of an eye. He released Verity. “What the hell are you talking about? Verity says she’s pregnant. Haven’t you gotten around to asking my daughter to marry you yet, you son of a bitch?”

  The bar fell silent. Clement, the bartender, groaned. Verity held her breath.

  Jonas stood up with insulting slowness. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and scowled at Emerson. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Ames. I did ask your daughter to marry me. Had a hell of a time talking her into it, too. But after I did, things changed. Important things. You want to know when the wedding will be? Ask Verity. I’ve been getting the impression she’s had a few second thoughts.”

  Verity’s mouth fell open in amazement. “Jonas. How could you think that?”

  Jonas turned on her. “That’s a damn fool question. What else was I supposed to think this past week? You’ve been acting damn weird again. You’re harder to figure out now than you were when you were moping around wondering whether or not to tell me about the baby.”

  “I’ve been acting weird? What a nasty thing to say. You’re deliberately reversing the situation. You’re the one who’s been acting strange. I got the distinct impression that you were no longer interested in marriage yourself.”

  Emerson took a threatening step forward. “What’s going on around here? What is it with you two?”

  “Stay out of this, Emerson.” Jonas shot the big man a warning glance. “This is between Verity and me.”

  “Well, you picked a fine place to settle a private matter,” Emerson roared back.

  “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Come on, Verity. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Jonas caught her wrist and headed for the door.

  “Ouch. Let go of me, dammit. I don’t have to put up with your caveman tactics. I’m pregnant. I deserve a little consideration.”

  “I deserve a little honesty,” he snarled, hauling her through the doorway. “I’m sick of all the sweetness and light I’ve been getting lately. If you’ve got something to tell me, you can tell me straight out. You don’t need to pussyfoot around me just because I’m not…”

  “Just because you’re not what?” Verity goaded as he yanked her through the rustic lobby and out into the cold night air.

  Jonas exploded. He halted and swung around to face her. “Just because I’m not the man I once was, damn you.”

  Verity stared at him, her eyes wide with amazement. “Not the man you once were? Oh my, Jonas. Oh, Jonas.” She started to giggle. She clapped a palm over her mouth, trying to restrain herself. But she knew her eyes were reflecting her mirth. “Not the man you once were? Jonas, that’s priceless. You make it sound like you’ve been castrated or something. Not the man you once were. Incredible. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Here I’ve been tiptoeing around all week thinking you were getting ready to leave me, and all along you were thinking I no longer wanted to marry you because you’re not the man you once were. What a pair of fools.”

  “Why the hell would I leave you?” He searched her face and then caught hold of her shoulders and shook her gently. “Tell me, Verity. Why would I leave?”

  “Because you don’t need me anymore,” she explained, her humor fading quickly. She met his eyes. “Jonas, look at this from my point of view. You came to me in the first place because you needed me as a psychic anchor. Whenever I tried to pin you down about whether you loved me or just felt tied to me because of the psyc
hic connection, you laughed off my fears. You told me there was no need to make a distinction between the two bonds. But now one of those bonds is gone, and I have no way of knowing how strong the other one is when it has to stand alone.”

  “Jesus, honey, I didn’t realize.” He wrapped her close and buried his face in her hair. “I’ve been going through the same thing from the other direction. I knew I’d used the psychic link to hold you and I was scared that once it was gone, you’d feel different about marrying me. When you started treating me strangely, I was convinced you’d changed your mind. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. You haven’t nagged me once since we got back from that goddamned island.”

  Verity’s head came up so quickly she caught his chin. There was a soft crack but she ignored his grimace of pain. Her eyes sparkled with indignation and relief. “So much for treating you with kid gloves. I was trying to be sweet and understanding. I decided you probably had some major adjustments to make. I didn’t know how you were going to respond to the loss of your psychic ability. I didn’t want to nag you or push you in any way. But I’ve been going quietly crazy, Jonas.”

  “Honey, the minute you stopped chewing my ass I knew I was in deep trouble.” He rubbed his injured jaw.

  “The minute you stopped deliberately provoking me every chance you got, I knew I was in real trouble.”

  He caught her face between his palms. “You’re right. We’ve been a pair of idiots. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last. But I swear to you that I love you with all my heart. Nothing will ever change that. The way I feel about you doesn’t depend on the psychic connection. If I didn’t know it for certain before, I’ve sure as hell learned it the hard way this past week. You wanted me to be able to distinguish between the psychic bond and the bond of love. Well, I can, believe me. I don’t ever want to have to go through that particular hell again.”

  Verity’s hands rose to grasp his wrists. She smiled up at him with all the love in her heart. “Does this mean you’re going to make an honest woman of me after all?”

  He grinned. “It sure as hell does. Just as soon as we can get a ring and a license.”

  “And a dress,” Verity reminded him. “Don’t forget the dress.”

  He looked down at her gently curved stomach. The top button of her jeans was unsnapped. “Like I said, we’d better hurry.”

  “Hey!” Emerson’s voice boomed from the lobby entrance. “You two get things settled out here? Christ, it’s a little cold to be standing around outside, isn’t it? Not good for a pregnant lady.”

  Verity groaned at the sound of her father’s voice. She buried her nose against Jonas’s jacket. “What in the world has gotten into him? Everybody in the resort must know what’s going on by now. It’s embarrassing.”

  Jonas chuckled. “So what else is new?” He gazed at his future father-in-law over the top of Verity’s red curls. “Don’t sweat it, Emerson. You won’t need the shotgun.”

  “Glad to hear it. Figured you two had just gotten your wires crossed. All you needed was a little push to get ‘em straightened out.”

  “Knock it off, Ames. No one’s going to give you any credit for straightening this out. Verity and I took care of it all by ourselves. Go have another drink. You’ve had a long trip.

  “Where are you going?” Emerson demanded.

  “Home.” Jonas caught hold of Verity’s arm and led her toward the path that wound through the trees to the cottage.

  Behind them Emerson grinned in satisfaction. Then he swung around and started for the bar. “Clement, my man,” he called to the bartender. “The announcement is official. My daughter says she’s actually going to marry him. Break out your best vodka. The Russian stuff.”

  “Why bother?” Clement said with a slow grin. “All vodka tastes the same.”

  “In a pig’s eye.” Emerson sat down on a stool. “Let’s get the Griswalds in here, and you’d better call the rest of the resort staff. It’s pay-off time.”

  “If Jonas ever finds out you’ve been running a pool to guess the day he and Verity announced they were engaged, he’ll skin you alive, Ames.”

  Emerson looked offended. “Just a friendly little game of chance, that’s all it was.”

  “I suppose now we’ll all get suckered into a ‘guess the date the baby arrives’ pool,” Rick Griswald said from the doorway.

  Emerson smiled broadly. “Hell of an idea. Now why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Jonas?”

  “What is it, love?” Jonas sucked one of Verity’s nipples between his teeth and bit down very gently. He felt the little tremor go through her and was satisfied. He was taking his time making love to her tonight. It had been a long week. True, he’d taken her to bed often enough during the past few days, but he hadn’t been able to relax and enjoy it.

  For the past week he’d been driven, desperate, obsessed with the idea that he might be able to make her stay with him if he kept reinforcing the sexual bond. Tonight he wanted to indulge himself in the luxury of making love to his future bride without worrying about when she would kick him out.

  “We should have talked more about it right after it happened.” Verity’s fingers curled in his hair as he dropped a warm kiss in the hollow between her breasts.

  “After what happened?”

  “After the experience you went through in the hidden chamber. Our mistake was in not discussing it. I know it bothered you a lot to find out you didn’t have the talent any longer, but I didn’t want to raise the issue until you were ready. I kept waiting for you to open up and tell me how you felt.”

  “I was afraid to bring up the subject because I couldn’t tell how you would react.” He slid a hand down to the curve of her thigh. “I’ve explained that. I was terrified of giving you an excuse to talk about our relationship.”

  “What’s wrong with that? We should discuss our relationship more. We need to talk about it.”

  Jonas raised his head, his eyes glinting in the darkness. “Relationship discussions make me nervous. I’d rather go to bed with you than talk about our relationship.”

  “Well, you can see where that attitude has gotten us this past week,” she admonished roundly, “We had plenty of sex, but our relationship was falling apart because you wouldn’t open up and tell me how you really felt.”

  Jonas decided to see if a quick, abject assumption of all the blame would close her luscious mouth. “It was all my fault. I should have talked to you about the whole thing. I really screwed up, honey. I’m sorry.” He tangled his fingers in the soft nest of hair above her thighs and inhaled the unique fragrance of her.

  “Oh, Jonas, it wasn’t really your fault,” Verity said graciously. She smiled gently in the shadows, her eyes full of love. “I understand how traumatic it must have been. You had so much to adjust to it’s a wonder you didn’t sink into a deep depression or something.”

  “Or something,” he repeated absently, his attention on how soft and warm she felt. Right now he wanted nothing more than to sink into Verity’s welcoming warmth. He wanted the reassurance of her physical response and the peace of mind that always came afterward.

  “But now that it’s all out in the open we can really talk about it.”

  “Yeah. We’ll have to do that sometime.” He lowered his head and kissed the tight red curls that concealed her feminine secrets.

  “Why don’t we do it now, Jonas?”

  “Now? I don’t think that’s such a good idea, honey.” He slipped his fingers between her thighs and drew in his breath as his already aroused manhood grew harder and heavier.

  “But this is the perfect time, Jonas.”

  “No, sweetheart, it’s not the perfect time. I’ve got other things on my mind.”

  “What other things?” she asked with wonderful innocence. Jonas stifled a groan as he let the pad of his thumb glide a
cross the sensitive nub hidden in the curls. “Guess.” Verity flinched in reaction to the provocative caress. Her brows snapped together. “You mean sex.”

  “Now you’re catching on.” He parted the soft petals between her legs and circled her gently with one finger. She was already damp. The spicy scent of her grew stronger in his nostrils, inflaming him.

  “Jonas, sex is not a substitute for good communication.” She gasped softly as his caress became more intimate.

  “Think of it as another form of communication—nonverbal communication.” He lowered his head and touched his tongue to her moist flesh. Then he eased a finger inside the softening sheath.

  “I think we’ve already mastered this form of communication,” Verity whispered. “We really should talk. I’m serious, Jonas. Stop that. We need to get in the habit of talking things out when we run into problems.”

  “Verity,” he began, trying to warn her gently that his patience was dissolving rapidly. “There’s a time for talk and a time for screwing. Trust me. This is not the time for talk.”

  “Dammit, Jonas, if we’re going to get married, I insist we practice verbal communication.” Her fingers clenched on his shoulder.

  Jonas sat up slowly and regarded the woman he was going to marry. “You want to use your mouth to communicate?”

  “I think it’s for the best, Jonas,” she said very seriously. “At least at the moment. It’s not that I don’t want to make love with you, but I just feel we need to learn to relate better on a verbal level.”

  Jonas nodded with sudden decision. “Right. You want to use your mouth, so go ahead and use your mouth.” He leaned back against the pillows and reached out to cup the nape of her neck in his palm. He pushed her head gently but firmly down to where his manhood throbbed heavily.

  “Jonas, this is not what I meant, and you know it!”

  “Open your mouth, honey, and show me how well you can communicate that way.”

  “You rat! I’m trying to carry on an important, meaningful discussion here, in case you didn’t notice” Her breath fanned the full, rounded tip of his shaft, and Jonas thought he would explode then and there.