Jonathan really is a beautiful man—smooth, tan skin, perfectly sculpted nose, dark eyebrows that are neither too full nor too thin. With all the chaos, he didn’t bother shaving this morning, and now he’s sporting a five o’clock shadow that takes away some of the pretty and shoves him right over to dangerously handsome.
“Are you still hung up over Gray?” he repeats.
“No.” I gulp. “We talked. Had closure. All that.”
He nods slowly, processing my answer. “Are you romantically involved with Rafe?”
“No.” And we never will be—not unless I decide it’s cool to destroy the world.
Again, Jonathan nods, and I realize with a start that this is the game. He’s reading my answers, watching for lies.
“Are you romantically involved with anyone?” He shifts a hair closer.
I shake my head.
Jonathan leans in, his lips very near my ear. “Use your words, please.”
A dose of pleasure shoots through my veins, making me think very foolish things indeed.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I whisper.
He pulls back, trapping me in his gaze once again. “Do you want to be?”
My knees weaken, but he steadies me, his hands firm at my sides.
Why is he doing this to me?
“I’m not in a great place right now,” I answer truthfully, suddenly regretting pushing him on the way back to the room. It’s obvious he’s far better at this game than I am, and I was foolish enough to provoke him.
The Griffon almost smiles. “I didn’t ask you that.”
“Someday? Maybe,” I say, the words unsteady. “Are we done now? It’s getting late.”
“Answer just one more question.” His tone is dark and delectable, and his eyes are bright and teasing. “Are you attracted to me, Madeline?”
“Jonathan.”
“It’s not difficult. Just answer the question.”
“Dare.”
My answer surprises him, and he gives me a questioning smile. “Dare?”
“I choose dare. I’m done with truth.”
“Fine.” His smirk grows. “I dare you to tell me the truth.”
I laugh. “Did you ever play the game? It doesn’t work like that.”
“Fine,” he thankfully agrees. “I have a dare.”
Too eager, every muscle in my body tightens, and I lean a margin closer.
“I dare you to use your persuasion on me,” he says carefully. “I want to try something.”
There’s a strange look in his eyes—even a flash of vulnerability, but it’s only there briefly before it’s gone.
“What exactly do you want me to persuade you to do?” I ask, wary.
“Tell me to stay out of your head when I kiss you—command I block out your thoughts.”
My muscles forget they know how to hold myself up. I get as wobbly as a newborn deer, but he braces me, keeping me steady.
But what does he mean? When he kisses me?
“Does…” I clear my throat. “I mean…will that work?”
“Let’s find out.” His hands move to my hips, nearly making me moan. “Humor me—for curiosity’s sake.”
Curiosity’s sake. Right.
“Jonathan…”
His hands tighten. “It’s just an experiment—one only you can help me with.”
“I don’t know,” I say absently, trying to tell my racing heart to slow the heck down. “Gray and Rafe both can use persuasion. Why don’t you ask one of them?”
He grins. “They’re not my type.”
Ignoring him, I clarify, “Just an experiment?”
Yep, I’m caving.
“Just an experiment,” he assures me.
It’s for science after all. Who am I to say no to the pursuit of higher education?
I nod, take a deep breath, and put magic into the words when I say, “You won’t hear my thoughts—you will block them out when you…if you…kiss—”
“When.” He tugs me against him, his breath on my lips. “When I kiss you.”
“You should know, I’m technically on a break from men right now,” I say, panicking more than just a little. “My emotions have been very chaotic, and I’m not sure this little experiment is a good idea—”
“Are you going to let me kiss you or not?” He flashes me a grin, humor laced with frustration.
“I just—”
“Yes or no.”
Well? Am I?
Thinking far too hard, I run my palms up his chest, stopping when I reach his shoulders. His jaw hardens as if he’s enjoying the touch. His reaction isn’t helping my willpower one tiny bit.
It’s been three months since Gray—since the mess with Finn. Three months. I’m allowed to move on. It’s time to stop punishing myself. And if that means I must kiss Jonathan to do so, then so be it.
“Okay.” I try to sound brave, nonchalant even, but the word comes out a squeak.
Before I have a chance to change my mind, Jonathan closes the bare distance between us, and his mouth meets mine.
Despite his bravado, the kiss is tentative at first, just the soft brushing of warm lips as our breath mingles. I melt into him, letting him hold me.
“So?” I say against his lips, my voice wobbly. “Is it working?”
He makes a ragged noise, presses me a tiny bit closer, and angles his head further to the side. “Too soon to tell.”
“More?” I manage.
“Mmmm, definitely more.” And then, as if he’s reached the end of his self control, he deepens the kiss. Makes it real.
A sound escapes me—a sigh, a moan, a peep of surprise. In response, Jonathan’s fingers spread at my sides, and he tugs me flush against his chest—holding me against his hard planes and angles, making me deliciously lightheaded. His stubble scrapes my skin, a shock to my senses, a contrast to his soft, insistent lips.
I’m just moving in for more when he suddenly pulls back, breaking the kiss, leaving me practically panting. I barely resist the urge to yank him back.
He studies me for several long moments, his eyes hungry, his breath uneven. I stare back, just as shocked.
“Well?” I finally manage.
The Griffon frowns and clears his throat. Then he abruptly turns on his heel and marches out of the bathroom.
“Jonathan!” I exclaim, trailing after him. “Did it work?”
Studiously ignoring me, he tosses his suitcase on the bed and rummages through his clothes. I set my hand on his arm, my stomach knotting, my lips still warm with the memory of his kiss. “You can’t just ignore me.”
In response, he quickly turns into me, snakes an arm around my waist and captures my lips again. It’s a quick kiss—hard and fast and toe-curling. He then sets me back, steadying me when I wobble. “It worked.”
Before I can catch my breath, he stalks toward the bathroom, leaving me weak-limbed and blinking.
“And I shouldn’t have done it,” he calls back.
I stare at the door after he closes it, my mouth agape, wondering what in the world is wrong with the man.
“It was your idea,” I holler, pressing a hand to my fluttering stomach as I lower myself to the bed. I'm so befuddled, I almost miss the edge and tumble to the floor.
“I know,” he answers through the door, and then he turns on the shower, cutting the conversation short.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“All alone this evening?” Will asks as he crosses the room to greet me. Dinner is a little late tonight, so we’re lingering in the foyer outside the dining room, nibbling on appetizers the servers carry on silver trays.
I give the man a smile. “My husband went off to the kitchen, hoping to speak with the chef about possibly catering an event we have this January. We’ve heard the mansion closes its doors to guests during the winter months, and we were wondering if she’s available.”
Jonathan has avoided me like the plague since we left the room. To say he’s making me insane is an understatement. I’m a
bout ready to corner the flighty man and shake some sense into him.
And kiss him again. And then shake him some more.
Will swipes a flute of champagne from a passing waiter—a waiter who just happens to be Rafe. “She’s an incredibly talented young woman, isn’t she? I’m afraid the Monroes will lose her before long if they’re not careful. Someone will sweep her away, take her off to bigger and better things.”
I laugh. “I assure you, we have no desire to steal her from the Monroes.”
Rafe, handsome in his white and black waiter’s attire, raises a brow, giving me one of his subtle, smirky smiles, and moves on without saying so much as a single word. I watch him for a moment, feeling a tiny bit guilty for what transpired between Jonathan and me earlier.
This is all too chaotic. I’m beginning to think I need to abandon the group entirely, settle down in a tiny town and marry a human. We could live off the land, raise cattle, grow tomatoes. I could even learn to sew my own clothes.
It sounds brilliant.
All except the live off the land, raise cattle, grow tomatoes, and sew my own clothes bit.
“So how do you feel about all this ghost talk?” Will asks, taking a sip from his glass. He lets his eyes wander over me, obviously liking what he sees. “If you’re here, you must be one of those women who enjoys a little…excitement. I, myself, like a good adventure.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “If you know what I mean.”
I glance around, wondering where the champagne-haired woman went to. She should keep better tabs on her husband. Or maybe they’re not even married—perhaps they’re posing like Jonathan and me.
“I’m afraid I’m only here for the food,” I say, forcing a laugh as I walk away, looking for somewhere safe to wait for Jonathan.
The cop catches my arm, his palm resting on my skin. “May I speak plainly?”
I stare at him, refusing to answer.
He lowers his voice. “There’s a rumor circling, one that you’re free with…favors. If you’re bored, there are better options than the waitstaff.” He raises an eyebrow, making sure his point gets across.
Apparently, Jenna has a loose tongue.
His hand moves up my arm, an unwanted caress. “I’ll make it memorable.”
It’s like I’m a magnet for the creepy types. Maybe they’re unknowingly drawn to my Obsidian magic, to the darkness.
I remove his hand from my arm and narrow my eyes. “Good evening, Mr. Tillman.”
He watches me walk away, and I resist the urge to shiver—or to go take a shower. A bad taste coats my tongue, and though I probably shouldn’t, I head right for Rafe.
His expression darkens when he notices the look on my face. “What happened?”
“The cop just propositioned me.”
Rafe’s hand tightens on his platter. “Propositioned or threatened?”
“Pretty sure it was a proposition.”
“Do you want me to kill him?”
My mouth parts in surprise. “Are you…serious?”
The knight looks at me like I’m daft. “What do you think I’m here for?”
I lower my voice. “You’re here to murder cops who hit on me?”
He shrugs, his dark blue eyes amused.
“I kissed Jonathan,” I blurt out.
What the heck, Madeline? Where did that come from?
Even calm, collected, murder-happy Rafe looks taken aback. After a moment, he says, “All right.”
“All right? That’s all you're going to say?”
He looks around, sets his half-empty tray of champagne on a table, and pulls me out of the foyer, into the hallway that got us in trouble before. “What do you want me to say?”
I look down, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in my little black cocktail dress. “I don’t know. It just felt like something I should tell you.”
“Be careful with Jonathan.”
Snorting like a lady, I look up. “You know, it’s funny. That’s exactly what he said about you and Gray when we were back in Tahoe.”
Rafe crosses his arms. “I don’t doubt it—and those are wise words as well. But there is a small difference.”
A couple walks down the hall, looking very rich and stately. They narrow their eyes at us, disapproving of me standing with the waiter. Maybe they’ve heard Jenna’s rumor about our little rendezvous in the forest earlier.
“Why’s there a difference?” I ask after the couple passes into the adjoining room.
Rafe steps closer, and our magic knots together, pulling and twisting and confusing me more than ever.
“Jonathan was worried about your well-being.”
“All right.”
My knight smiles. “As his friend, I’m worried about his.”
I let the words soak in, and then I set my hands on my hips. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
He studies me for a hair too long. “Jonathan talks a good game, and we’ve never stopped him—we’ve encouraged it even. But let me assure you, he’s not as free with his affections as he would like the world to believe.”
“Is that it? You’re only going to give me that lovely little vague message?”
Rafe laughs under his breath. “Yes, Lexie, that’s all I’m going to give you.”
“What about us?” I ask abruptly, needing an answer to that question more than any other.
The smile in his eyes disappears. “What ‘us?’”
I motion between us. “The magic.”
He stares at me.
“Don’t you dare pretend again that it’s not there—not when we almost ripped each other’s clothes off in the woods.”
That earns a tiny lift of his eyebrows, and I have the inexplicable urge to punch him in the nose.
“I am your knight,” he says, the careful patience in his voice sounding a wee bit strained—like a father telling his sugar-high child for the fifteenth time that he won’t buy another cotton candy at the amusement park. “You are my queen. We are not lovers—and we’re not meant to be. You want to be with Jonathan? Go for it. You need my blessing? You have it.”
I stare at him, narrowing my eyes. “You just said lovers. Like an eighty-year-old woman. Or Lillian. Is that a word you’re trying to resurrect?”
A real smile passes over his face, but he does his very best to bite it back. “Go away. Find Jonathan.”
I turn, but then I look back. “You flirted with me at the brewery. When we played pool, before Trent finally managed to kidnap me.”
After a moment, he nods.
“Why?”
He makes a noise in the back of his throat and looks past me, down the hall. “Perhaps I was trying to fool myself into believing that you weren’t her—that you were just a pretty girl with mesmerizing eyes and a smile that hits a man in the gut.”
I inhale sharply through my nose, and I swear the world stops rotating for several moments.
“But you are her, Madeline. I know my place, and it’s by your side, but not with you. Jonathan is a good man—despite how he’d like the world to believe he isn’t. Far better than Gray, if you want my honest opinion. If you like him, and he likes you, don’t let me or our magic stand in your way.”
***
Jonathan sees me, and relief crosses his face. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to.”
“I see you’re talking to me again. Were you afraid I’d been stolen away by a pixie?”
“That’s not even funny,” he says, giving me a stern look. “Especially not when Jenna’s disappeared, and no one knows where she went. I was terrified she’d abducted you.”
“She’s gone?”
“That’s why dinner’s late. The Monroes are in a tizzy, wondering if something’s happened to her. They’re trying to keep it quiet so the rest of the guests don’t find out.”
“Do you think she figured out who we are? What we’re here for?”
Jonathan shakes his head. “I have no idea.”
“Now what?”
He
shakes his head, at a loss.
“I was talking to Rafe,” I explain after a moment.
A funny look crosses the knight’s face, one that looks the tiniest bit…jealous. “You don’t have to give me a play by play of your whereabouts, Madeline.”
“No? What if we were talking about you?”
That makes him pause.
“I told him about the kiss,” I admit.
“What?” He blanches. “Are you trying to have me killed—”
“And he shared the most interesting thing.”
Suddenly, the knight’s face goes curiously blank. “What did he share?”
Though he asks, he doesn’t look like he really wants to know.
“This incredibly enigmatic spiel about you being a better man than you want the world to know.”
Relief washes across his face, and he takes a long gulp of what looks like a scotch on the rocks. “Lies. All lies.”
“What does Rafe know that I don’t?” I step a little closer to my faux husband, remembering the way it felt to kiss him. “What are you keeping from me?”
“We need to find Gray.” He sets the glass aside. “And there’s no time like the present.”
Curiosity burns inside me, but I let him change the subject and lead me away. We leave the mansion, stepping onto a terrace. Wispy clouds float through the sky, masking a waxing moon. The blueish dim light illuminates the garden, creating deep shadows.
Though I can’t see it, I feel there’s something just beyond the garden, waiting for me. I try to avoid confronting the beasts at night. There’s something less terrifying about the dark creatures in the daylight, when they are confined to the shadows. But this is their hour. Their time to leave their crevices and caves and dark, dank holes and move freely.
I shiver and then sternly tell myself to think of something else.
“You’ve got to be freezing in that,” Jonathan says, instantly pulling off his tuxedo jacket. He settles it over my bare shoulders, wrapping me in Jonathan-scented goodness. He put on a little more cologne before we left, something that complements the tux nicely. It envelops me, makes my mind wander.
I peer at him from the corner of my eye, wondering what’s up with his mood swings. One minute he’s kissing me, the next he won’t talk, and now he’s handing me his jacket.
Princess of Shadows (Obsidian Queen Book 2) Page 15
