by Kathy Love
He cried out, clutching her tightly to him.
Gradually, his hold loosened, but he didn’t let her go. He again pressed kisses to her shoulder, and once he’d relaxed, she rolled over to face him.
“Good morning,” he said, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to her mouth.
“Good morning.” She smiled back, then lifted her head to check the clock on her nightstand. “Yep, we just made morning still. Eleven fifty-six.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the clock too. “Well, no wonder I’m starving.”
“Oh,” Poppy said, sitting up, bringing the sheet with her. “I can make you something to eat.”
As she was about to stand, Killian snagged the sheet, causing her to topple back against him. Then he rolled her under him, so she was pinned between his weight and the mattress.
They both dissolved into laughter at the silliness of his behavior.
“So does this mean you don’t want me to make something?”
He shook his head, grinning down at her, his face so handsome, his smile so naughty.
“Not if it means you have to get out of this bed.”
“Ah, so you’re keeping me here all day?”
He raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider the idea. “And maybe all night too.”
He kissed her, even though she was giggling. Or maybe because she was.
“Well, not all night,” she said once they parted. She was still grinning at him, loving how carefree and silly they could be with each other.
“Really? You need a break, huh?” His look was smug as if to say he knew she couldn’t handle that much time in bed with him.
She giggled again. “I don’t need a break. But tonight is the night we make my ex realize exactly what he’s been missing.”
Killian’s smile withered like a cut flower left out of water. Then he recovered, although this smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That’s right. Tonight is Project Adam. I don’t know how I forgot.”
Poppy studied him, trying to understand his response. He seemed disappointed, and maybe even a little irritated, which made no sense since this had been his idea all along.
He rolled off her, flopping onto his back. She remained beside him for a few moments, hoping some of the easy happiness between them would return. But he just remained still, staring up at the ceiling.
Her gut reaction was to feel awful. To feel his guardedness was her fault, but she caught herself. She couldn’t understand what he was thinking unless she asked. And hadn’t he said they needed to be open with each other? Keep things clear and honest.
She sat up, hesitating when she saw his distant expression.
“Killian, are you upset about something?”
Confusion clouded his eyes as if he was coming back from some faraway place, but then he recovered, shaking his head and offering a smile. Again that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“No. Not at all.”
She must have not looked as if she believed him, because he broadened his smile. “I’m fine.”
She debated questioning him further, but before she could decide, he touched her cheek.
She met his eyes and held his gaze for several moments. Then he smiled again. It was still not like the smiles of earlier, but better, less strained.
He tugged her down beside him, kissing the top of her head as she snuggled close to his side.
They stayed that way, quietly enjoying each other.
“Do you really believe in all the paranormal phenomena you study?” Poppy asked suddenly. For some reason her thoughts had gone back to the experience she’d had at the Japanese restaurant.
Killian’s hand, which had been idly brushing over her back, stilled. He didn’t answer for a moment, and then she felt him nod.
“I do believe in some of it, yes.”
She nodded too, but didn’t say anything.
“Why?” he asked.
She considered just letting the topic go, but then decided if anyone was going to believe her story or give an explanation for it, Killian was the person. After all, he made his living dealing with the supernatural.
“I—I just had a weird experience in the bathroom at that restaurant last night.” She told him about what had happened and what she thought she’d seen.
Killian didn’t say anything for a moment, and she wondered if maybe she’d made a mistake sharing the story.
Then he said, “If anything like that ever happens again, tell me right away.”
His tone was serious, very serious.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Do you think it will happen again?”
He studied her for a moment, his expression intense, even a little worried. Then he shrugged, all intensity gone, and she almost wondered if she’d imagined the other reaction.
“Not likely, but I like to know about these things.”
She nodded, confused. Was he worried or not? Or was he just interested because of his work?
“You know, I think I am hungry,” he said suddenly as he cupped his large hand around the back of her head and pulled her down to him, kissing her. “And I need to keep my energy up.”
She laughed. “Having trouble keeping up with me, huh?”
“Well, you are an imp. And they are notoriously energetic. And insatiable.”
She rubbed a hand over his chest, appreciating all his hard muscles and hot smooth skin. Her roaming hand headed lower. And lower.
He cocked an eyebrow, then glanced down at where her hand was going. “See, insatiable.”
She grinned, but stopped just below his belly button. “Pancakes? Or a ham and cheese omelet?”
He blinked, then grinned. “Insatiable tease.”
She smirked back, but continued to swirl a fingertip around his flat little navel, the coarse hair tickling her.
He caught her tormenting hand, bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, then each finger, and just like that the teasing tables were turned.
He nipped the pad of the finger that had been circling his belly button, then said, “Definitely an omelet.”
She frowned, too lost in the erotic sensations of his mouth on her hand to follow.
“I’ll have a ham and cheese omelet,” he clarified with a smug glint in his eyes. “I need some protein to keep me going.”
She made a face at him, but said, “Omelets it is.”
She crawled off the bed, swathed in her version of a sage-colored, ill-fitting toga, and trundled toward the kitchen.
“Want help?” he called.
“Nah, just rest,” she said, poking her head back in the doorway. “You’ll need that too.”
She giggled as she headed to the kitchen.
Killian listened to Poppy shuffling through the apartment, her sheet trailing after her. But once she was in the kitchen and the noises turned to the clatter of pots and pans, his smile disappeared. He stared at the ceiling.
What was he doing? She had encountered Vepar last night. There was no doubt. And to top it off, he was more upset about tonight’s plans. That shouldn’t be. He wanted her to finally see Adam and deal with her loss of her former boyfriend. Wasn’t that the point of all this? Didn’t he accept that eventually she would be with another man? That she deserved to move on?
But nothing was going as he’d expected. He’d really believed sex with Poppy would be great—which it was. Beyond great. The best of his existence, if he was being honest.
But he’d expected it to just be sex.
He grimaced at his own thoughts. It is just sex. There isn’t an option for it to be more.
Not with Vepar out there, being a lunatic. Not with Killian himself being a demon.
He had to find her a human man. Someone to really love her. Not just have sex with her. He had to.
But even as he told himself that, a small portion of himself held back, unwilling to let go just yet.
He listened to Poppy again, the sounds of domesticity some
how as appealing as everything else about her. Slightly off-key singing filtered through the apartment too, and he imagined how she looked in her sea of sheet, well satisfied, her hair tousled, singing—the Rolling Stones. At least he thought it was the Rolling Stones.
She was truly, amazingly adorable.
And he was feeling that he was in too deep.
But as if her out-of-tune song was the melodic call of a siren, he found himself being drawn out of bed. Called to her.
He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. But as long as he remembered this was just for a brief amount of time, then he would manage to complete the mission he was here to do.
Poppy smiled as she stepped into the shower, the hot water like Heaven on her aching muscles. Today had probably been one of the best days of her life.
She and Killian had spent the entire day together—mainly in bed. Well, and on the kitchen table and on the rug in front of the TV. He’d called her insatiable, but in truth, their desire for each other was unquenchable.
She’d never experienced that kind of need for someone. It was exhilarating and a little frightening all at once.
She closed her eyes and let her head rest on the tile wall, water beat on her back, lulling her. Bed beckoned her, but this time for sleep. Maybe they should just stay home and finally rest. After all, did it really matter if she made some point to Adam? A point he probably wouldn’t even get?
She was pretty sure he hadn’t been as torn up about their breakup as she’d been. Strike that, she was positive he hadn’t been. But, she realized with a smile, after a day of being satisfied again and again by Killian, her heartbreak over Adam seemed years away. And pretty darn insignificant.
She opened her eyes as she heard the doorknob to the bathroom rattle and twist. She opened the shower curtain to see Killian standing there, naked. Amazingly, beautifully naked.
“Can I join you?”
She smiled, knowing the gesture was lazy. “Sure.”
He stepped into the water, closing the curtain, shutting out everything but them and the wonderfully hot water.
“I’m so tired,” she murmured, moving right into his arms and resting her head on his chest as if it were the most natural thing to do.
Even now, after all they’d shared today, her comfort level with him still startled her. He was physical perfection. The kind of man who had always made her feel, well, plain. But she didn’t feel that way with him.
His muscular arms came around her, a cocoon of Killian and water. She moaned.
“This feels like Heaven.” She sighed.
He was silent for a moment, then she felt his head nod against the top of hers. “I think you might be right.”
She stood, half-dozing in his embrace. How long she didn’t know, but eventually he released her and reached for the bar of soap. He lathered a washcloth, then began to rub the slick material over her, soft and soothing.
She sagged against him, her back to his chest as he continued to wash her, his touch so gentle and wonderful, she whimpered. The terry cloth stimulated her nipples as he moved over them, around them, then down her belly.
Unbelievably, her body reacted, and when he brought the cloth between her thighs, she spread for him, telling him silently she wanted him again.
She felt him smile against the curve of her neck and shoulder.
“Not this time, baby,” he murmured. “You’re too sleepy and sore. And we’ll never make it out tonight if we do.”
She wanted to argue and say that was fine with her, but instead she just nodded. Then she turned in his arms and again, rested her head on his chest.
“You’re right,” she said. And for the rest of their shower she tried not to want him. A near impossible feat, but one she somehow managed.
Killian released her and stepped out of the shower.
“I’m going to go get some clean clothes, but I’ll be back down here in five.”
She nodded, remaining under the warm spray, too relaxed to move.
“Stay right here and I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” She didn’t have to be asked twice.
Killian toweled off and threw on yesterday’s clothes. Then he snagged Poppy’s keys. He wasn’t leaving her in an unlocked apartment, even for a few minutes.
Then he hurried back to his place—oddly he was actually beginning to think of the fusty apartment that way.
“Vepar!” he yelled as soon as he entered. He yelled again, looking for the cat in the living room, then the bedroom. No sign of it. Or Vepar.
“Damn you.” What was that psychotic demon’s game? He didn’t know. He just knew Vepar seemed intent on something.
Just kill her.
Vepar’s words echoed in his head again.
That couldn’t be his real goal, could it?
CHAPTER 34
As they stepped into the loud, crowded bar, Killian again asked himself why he had turned down Poppy’s sweet shower offer. He could have made love to her, and then let them both fall into a deep, sated sleep. And avoided this outing altogether.
That way she’d be safe. And he wouldn’t have to meet the man she’d wasted so many years mourning.
But here they were.
Maybe he could seduce her and get her back to her place. Then he caught himself. His mission wasn’t about himself. It was about Poppy and her happiness.
But it was getting harder and harder to remember that. All he could think about was being with her himself. It was almost an—obsession.
Why did he want this mortal woman so much?
She shifted by his side, a hint of cinnamon reaching his nose like the warm spices of home. Her heat radiated over him like morning sunlight. Her face was ethereal, pure, lovely.
He paused. What was wrong with him? He was getting all—poetic, flowery—nauseating.
His gaze slid to her again. She looked beautiful—sweet and sexy all at the same time in a pair of jeans, a simple, fitted black top with a crocheted, bright pink scarf and black ballet flats. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, glossy and flyaway.
“You look amazing,” he found himself saying as if the thoughts just couldn’t stay contained in his head.
“Thank you.” She smiled, although he could see in her dark eyes that she was nervous.
Those nerves bothered him. They told him she still cared about this Adam guy. But the bigger question was why did he care that she cared? She was a project—why couldn’t he remember that?
She scanned the crowd, even rising up on her tiptoes to see the stage. Then she shrugged.
“I don’t see him.”
A feeling altogether too much like relief spread through his chest. He pushed the feeling aside and gestured to the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”
She nodded, still scanning the room.
He weaved his way through the crowd, a mixture of younger and older patrons. The area around the bar was packed, but he caught Poppy’s hand and edged his way through, need for a drink making him more determined.
“Well, he still draws in a big crowd,” Poppy said, as she squeezed through a group of thirty-something women.
Killian nodded, not pleased by that comment either.
He made it to the bar, waving to a bustling bartender who ignored him.
Wait on me now.
The bartender stopped in mid-order and walked over to Killian.
“Hey,” the patron the bartender been helping yelled down that bar at him.
Go away.
The man promptly left the bar, drinkless, rejoining his group of friends, who were none too happy that he returned empty-handed.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked Killian, who looked at Poppy.
“Pinot noir, please.”
“A double of Glenfiddich.”
Not the year and the quality of the whisky he had at home, but tonight it would suffice.
Beside him, Poppy still searched the crowd.
Oh, yeah, it would do for tonight.
; The bartender returned with the drinks, and Killian opened a tab. He took a long draught before handing the wine to Poppy.
“See him?”
She shook her head. “Maybe he didn’t end up playing here tonight after all.”
Could they be that lucky? He took another gulp of the scotch whisky.
Killian gritted his teeth more at his own stupidity than the burn of the liquor. Why was he being so ridiculous about this? He wasn’t seriously involved with this woman. They were hanging out and having sex. He had no ties to her, and it wasn’t as if he could have more with her anyway.
“You’re a fuckin’ demon,” he muttered to himself, but Poppy frowned at him, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“What did you say?”
But he was saved from having to answer as a man jostled into her. Both turned to apologize, but then neither said a word.
The man spoke first. “Poppy.”
“Adam,” Poppy said.
The man—Adam—hugged her then. Poppy remained stiff in his embrace for a second, then returned the hug, her arms going around his shoulders.
Killian watched, his jaw aching from how tightly he was clenching his teeth. He took a sip of his whisky, but even that didn’t stem his desire to gnash his teeth.
Finally they parted.
“Eric told me you might come,” Adam said, his gaze roaming over her, eating up the sight of her.
Poppy smiled, her eyes actually alight with some emotion that looked far too much like happiness for Killian’s taste.
“Yes. I was so surprised to see him.”
“I’m so surprised to see you,” Adam said, touching her arm. Then he gestured across the bar. “Come sit with us. Eric and his wife are over there. And a couple of my friends.”
“Okay.” Poppy started to follow him, then stopped, suddenly remembering Killian was there.
“Oh Adam, this is my fr—”
Before she could finish, Killian moved forward to extend his hand. “Fiancé. I’m Poppy’s fiancé. Killian.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Killian could see Poppy’s shocked expression, but he ignored her, offering Adam his most charming smile.
She’s mine.
Adam blinked, some of his joy at seeing Poppy evaporating. “Killian. Nice to meet you.”
