Selene looked at her mother slowly, unsure what to say. She wasn’t screaming at her.
“The uh—the Reverend Jackson and I have been doing some studying together, since you’ve been away.”
Oh, no. “Studying?”
“Yes. We started with that book you left lying on the kitchen table for me. Which I read with a healthy dose of skepticism, believe you me. It painted this Witchcraft thing in the most flattering light, it was clearly biased. So we did a little more digging.”
Letting her head fall forward until her chin nearly touched her chest, Selene whispered, “And no you doubt found all kinds of crazy sources that told you Witches engage in wild orgies, torture black cats and sacrifice babies to Satan.”
“Well, yes, there were a few of those. But I’m not a stupid woman, Selene. I could see those sources were nothing but propaganda. Besides, Witches don’t even believe in the devil, much less worship him.”
Selene brought her head up slowly, opened her eyes, met her mother’s.
“And besides, between the Threefold Law and the Wiccan Rede, I can’t see how there’s room for torture or sacrifice at all.”
“Just who have you been talking to, Mom?”
“Oh, lots of people. Though I wasn’t buying a lot of what they told me—not until I had a chat with your cousins, Wes and Ben. I admit, now, I don’t like the words you’re choosing to use. Witchcraft. Makes it sound like something dark and evil, when the truth is it’s nothing more than nature worship and folk magick.”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“Well, I just don’t know why you don’t call it that, then.” She sighed. “Anyway, I’m sorry I overreacted. But it’s as much your fault as my own. You should have told me long ago, Selene. Talked through this with me. Your assumptions about how I would react were as misguided as mine about what this Witch thing was all about.”
“You’re right, Mom.”
Vidalia nodded firmly. “Well, then, it’s settled.”
“Miss Brand?”
Selene turned to see a smiling, gorgeous young nurse waiting for her. “Yes?”
“You can go in to see Mr. Falconer now. I’ll take you back.”
“Oh, but his brother—”
“You go on,” Vidalia said. “I’ll send him on when he gets back. Just tell me where.”
“Through those doors,” the nurse said. “Fourth door on the right. Room 307. Then she led Selene through and into the hospital room. Just inside the door, though, she froze—liter-ally. Her skin got goosebumps, she shivered with the chills that raced up her spine and her hands felt like ice.
He lay there, his skin pale except for the slightly blue tint beneath his eyes. The sheets were pulled up to just past his hips, and his chest was bare, except for the leads taped in place there, which, she guessed, were what caused the heart monitor to beep and make wavy lines across its screen. A white bandage encircled his waist. There was an IV line in his arm, another lead clipped to the tip of his forefinger, and tubes feeding oxygen into his nostrils.
He looked fragile, as if he were hovering somewhere between life and death, as if the slightest breeze could send him one way or the other.
She almost didn’t dare to move nearer. And then she couldn’t stop herself. She tiptoed up to the bed, and leaning close, clasped his hand in hers and lifted it to her lips. It felt cool to the touch. Startlingly cool, and she couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes as she sank into the chair beside his bed. “Cory, I’m here,” she whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”
He didn’t reply, so she bent even closer, brushing her cheek over his, closing her eyes because the rasp of his whiskers felt so damned good. “Cory.”
The door opened, closed again. She straightened and blinked at the tears in her eyes.
“You really do have a thing for him, don’t you?”
“I love him.” She brushed at her eyes, and turned slightly in her chair. Casey handed her a cup of cocoa.
“You love him?”
“You sound surprised.”
“Most women don’t get that involved. Not with him. I mean, he’s usually pretty up-front with them about his—well, his intentions.”
“He was with me, too.” She shrugged. “I didn’t listen.” She took a deep breath, sighed. “Well, hell, I might as well get to work.” She took a big drink of the just-warm-enough cocoa, then set the cup on the nightstand.
“To work…doing what?”
She was standing by then, leaning over and laying her palms on the top of Cory’s head. “Healing him. What else?”
“Oooh-kay.”
She worked on Cory while chatting with Casey for the better part of an hour before he opened his eyes and blinked her into focus. His smile, when it came, was so warm, his eyes so full of emotion, that she almost lost her breath.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered.
“Hey, yourself. You feeling better?”
“I’m hurting like hell, but I’m really glad to see you in one piece. You okay?”
“Better than okay, now that I’m pretty sure you’re going to be.”
“How’s Erica?”
“Grieving for Tessa, but physically fine.” I have a surprise for you.” God, the way his eyes held hers, the way they seemed to be searching….
“What surprise?”
“Your kid brother is here. We’ve been getting to know each other while you’ve been napping.”
He lifted his brows and looked past her, and she knew when he saw Casey, because his smile grew wider. Casey came up beside her, leaned down to clasp his brother’s hand in a tight-fisted grip.
“About time you woke up, pal. I was getting ready to douse you in cold water, but uh, your girlfriend here thought some of her hocus-pocus would be a little more effective.”
Cory managed a smile. “Have a little patience, Case. You must have been out a lot longer than I was.” He shifted his gaze to Selene. “Wasn’t he? How long was I—?”
“Only a few hours.”
He closed his eyes in what looked like relief. “Good. That’s good.”
“Why?” Casey asked. “You have a pressing appointment or something?”
“Yeah, I do. Case, pal, I know we’ve got some catching up to do, but uh—”
Casey looked from his brother to Selene and back again. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind getting to know the gorgeous female I met in the waiting room a little better. You mind if I take off for a few minutes? Maybe…I don’t know, a half hour?”
“Thanks, little brother.”
“Yeah, yeah. See you later, okay?”
Cory nodded, and Casey surprised the heck out of Selene by leaning over and kissing her cheek before he left. While he was close, he whispered, “From the look in my brother’s eyes, hon, I’m beginning to think you really are some kind of Witch.”
So she was seeing something in Cory’s eyes. Something more than what had been there before. It wasn’t all in her head, because his brother saw it, too. Suddenly her stomach was churning, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands, other than clutch them together in her lap to try to still their shaking.
Cory sat up, winced a little as he did, and she jumped out of her chair, hands going to his shoulders to help him. And then she stayed there, caught in the spell of his eyes. His hands closed around her waist, and he kissed her. His mouth pressed to hers, gently, at first, but when her lips parted and her arms slid around his neck, it grew more urgent. His mouth opened and closed over hers in a slow, sexy rhythm, as he pulled her so hard against him she nearly fell into the bed.
When he finally broke the kiss, Selene was breathless and aching for more.
He still held her, still stared into her eyes. “I don’t have any wife,” he said.
“I know.”
“I remember everything now. All the pieces have fallen into place. I live in Perry, a small town out toward Tulsa. Have a big, empty cabin. A rental. And the most precious thing in it is my c
ollection.”
“The raptors.”
“Yeah,” he said, and the look in his eyes grew even more intense. “I’m a wildlife officer, have been for ten years.”
“I know.”
“You’ve met Casey. He’s the only family I have, besides my father.”
“Cory, why are you telling me all this?”
He slowed down, took a pause and a breath and seemed to think for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I’ve met most of your family. I’ve gotten to know you pretty well over the past few days. I thought now that I remembered, you should know more about me.”
“I want to,” she said, easing up a bit, and turning to sit on the edge of his bed. She used the button on the side to raise the upper part, so he could lean back without lying down. “I want to know everything.”
“I want to tell you everything.”
She’d been looking at the button on the bed, but the tone of his voice brought her gaze back to his, fast. “Why?”
“Because I’m in love with you, Selene.”
Tears welled in her eyes so fast, so deeply, she couldn’t blink enough to keep them from spilling over. How often had she dreamed of him saying those words to her?
He pulled her close again, and this time she lay across his chest, her head on his shoulder, his arms holding her. Nothing could feel as wonderful as being in his arms, she thought.
“I didn’t think I wanted a relationship, a commitment. But I do, Selene. I want it with you. It’s just like you said, all the fears and doubts vanish when you meet your soul mate.”
He gripped her shoulders, lifting her a little, so he could look her in the eyes. “I think you’re the one, Selene. I think you were right all along. We’re meant to be.” He searched her eyes for a long moment, then squeezed her shoulders gently. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
She’d been trying, but her throat was so tight, and now her face was wet with tears to boot. She waved a hand at her cheeks, to dry them, drew a breath and tried to swallow to free her voice. It was squeaky and soft, but at least she got words out. “What’s to say? I’ve been telling you this stuff for days now.”
“So…you still feel that way? I mean, I didn’t screw it up, taking so long to figure out what I was feeling?”
She smiled through her tears, sniffled and wiped a cheek with a knuckle. “I said I’d love you forever, Cory. It hasn’t been close to forever yet.”
He smiled, finally. That sexy, slow smile she loved so much, and his bedroom eyes closed as he kissed her again.
“Damn,” she whispered, when their lips pulled apart. “There’s gonna be one hell of a party at the Texas Brand when they let you out of here.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. Cause, uh, the last single Brand has finally met her match.”
“Not quite,” he said. “There’s still Vidalia.”
“You have been paying attention, haven’t you?”
“I love your family, Selene. They were amazing out there. Treated me like I was one of them.”
“You are,” she told him. “From now on, Cory, you are.”
Author’s Note
This novel contains instances of a modern-day Witch practicing her skills in a number of ways, including the healing power of Reiki (an eastern tradition), the use of Pow-Wow (Pennsylvania-Dutch folk magic), and Shamanism, among other methods. While some see conflict in this, it is precisely the way modern Witches work. Shamanism, while seen by many as a purely Native American practice, has actually been used by cultures all over the world, from Laplanders to the natives of Peru. Northern Germanic Shamans were said to travel the skies with the help of sacred reindeer and return with gifts for their people. Witches have been said to travel the skies with the help of a magic broomstick. Both tales refer to the same practice, that of “journeying” into alternate worlds in search of wisdom and guidance: Shamanism. Today’s working Witches believe that, from the point of view of a spirit, there’s no difference between one religious system and another. They are all created by man as a means of understanding the divine, and any means of bringing us closer to the divine is both valid and sacred. So they use what works, the way great cooks do with recipes: borrowing from traditions old and new, creating new methods from the old and from scratch, keeping those that work best for them and for the job at hand. And it works—Magic happens!
ISBN: 978-1-55254-761-8
DANGEROUS LOVER
Copyright © 2006 by Margaret Benson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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