by Sandy James
He caught it midair. After he opened the passenger door for her, she slid into the seat. He walked around to the driver’s side.
She crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her hot palms against her armpits and planned the payback for the humiliation he’d put her through tonight.
Chapter Nine
Johann’s face ached from clenching his jaw, and he was amazed he hadn’t cracked a tooth. If he started talking, he’d say things he’d regret later. He shouldn’t be letting his emotions take over this way. He was supposed to help Megan learn some control.
So much for being a role model for calm, cool and collected.
The tires squealed on the concrete as he rounded the last sharp turn before bringing the Mercedes to an abrupt halt in her condo’s parking garage. Jamming the gearshift into park, he turned to glare at her.
She glared right back. “I’d appreciate you taking a little better care of my car. I can’t imagine you treating any of your stupid computers that rough. My toys are as important to me as yours are to you.”
If he opened his mouth, all that would tumble out would be an angry tirade. Until he figured out if his anger was directed at Megan, Maksim Popov or himself, he wasn’t about to shout at her. He’d either scream out of sheer jealousy or plead for her to love him like some pathetic loser.
“Well?” she asked, drumming her fingers on her thigh. “I’m waiting for an apology.”
She damn well wasn’t getting one. He threw the door open and crawled out of the car. When she followed suit, he dropped the key into his jacket pocket and strode to the elevator. Pushing the code buttons harder than necessary, he kept working his jaw.
What had she been thinking? She’d almost exposed her powers to everyone at the party.
When Johann had danced with Megan, the excitement of being with Popov was still thrumming through her. Her muscles tensed beneath his hand. He’d measured her heart pounding in her chest when she pressed against him. He’d sensed the flurry of emotions racing through her. Or had he only sensed her fear?
She’d almost let everyone see the excited sparks fly from her head. Knowing Popov was involved in the supernatural, handing him knowledge of her powers was begging to get hurt. Or killed.
They rode the elevator in uncomfortable silence, standing as far apart as they could manage. Johann couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Megan in Popov’s embrace, nor could he purge the thoughts of holding her against his own body. A woman had never felt so right to him. Her softness nestled close had fired his blood and set his senses whirling. He could still smell her perfume on his jacket as well as the sweet cherry-tobacco scent that betrayed her strong emotions. He could still feel her warm, smooth skin against his fingertips.
He wanted her—wanted to be inside her so badly he could have taken her right against the wall. And, damn, he knew she’d be good. No doubt making love to Megan would be exquisite.
But he couldn’t have her. Worse, now that he was so infatuated her, no other woman would ever do. No other woman could compare to her. She was beautiful. She was strong. She was sensual.
He was falling in love with her.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?” Megan turned to scowl at Johann as the elevator doors opened several floors below hers.
A gray-haired man carrying a Yorkshire terrier sporting a bright pink bow on its head glanced nervously at the two of them.
Megan didn’t acknowledge the newcomer. Instead, she glared at Johann with an intensity that made him worry she’d throw fire again. At him.
The old man cautiously boarded the elevator and stood awkwardly between Amazon and Sentinel.
“Well?” she demanded, ignoring their audience.
“Well what?” Johann asked.
“You cursed at me.” She reached down and took off one high-heeled sandal and then the other. “You called me a bitch.”
“I most certainly did not.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I heard you.”
Johann shrugged. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t believe him anyway. He wasn’t about to keep arguing in front of a civilian.
“You’re a liar. I heard what you called me. You’re just too much of a coward to admit it.”
The old man turned to stare at her and then gave his dog a nervous stroke.
“I’m not a coward. I didn’t call you a bitch,” Johann finally said, resisting the urge to stomp his foot like a frustrated child.
“You did! I didn’t do it on purpose, you know.” She looked at the old man. “He thinks I did it on purpose.”
The old man frowned at Johann. “She didn’t do it on purpose.”
Johann rolled his eyes. “Oh, for pity’s sake. Now’s not the place to discuss—”
Megan wouldn’t let him finish. “It was just a few fireworks anyway.” She elbowed the gray-haired man. “No one saw it. He’s just overreacting.”
The man smiled at her and patted his dog. “I understand, dear.”
Johann rubbed his fingertips against his forehead, trying to work out the growing tension. “This is why I’m here. You aren’t discrete. Blowing your top like that and talking about this in front of…” He nodded at the passenger between them.
“I didn’t want him here, you know,” she told the man as she reached out to scratch his dog behind its ears. “I can handle this alone. He doesn’t have any faith in me. I didn’t need him coming to Chicago and poking his nose in my business.”
“She seems quite capable, young man,” the stranger said in a chastising tone that made Johann angrier.
The Yorkie barked with one of those annoyingly grating yapping noises only tiny dogs made.
She’d knocked him off center enough, he lost his temper. He scoffed at everyone else in the elevator. All three of them. “The only thing she’s capable of doing on her own is screwing things up.”
A smoky odor wafted from her.
The old man turned back to Megan. “You can’t smoke in here, dear. It’s against the rules.” Then his eyes flew wide, probably because the smoke wasn’t coming from a cigarette but from the crown of her head. The poor Yorkie yelped as the man squeezed it harder against his chest.
“Shit. Not again.” She slapped a hand on her hair.
“Rein it in, Megan.” Johann reached behind the old man as the elevator doors opened. He gave Megan a gentle shove to get her moving.
“You tell me one more time to rein it in, and I swear I’ll toast you.” She stumbled out of the elevator with one hand in her hair and the other clutching her sandals.
After they both stepped out of the elevator, Johann closed his eyes and reached out with his Sentinel power to erase the last few minutes of the old man’s memory. Then the stranger and his dog disappeared behind the slowly closing doors.
White sparks shot from her head the moment Megan and Johann found themselves alone.
“I’m going to stick you in a cold shower if you don’t stop this,” he threatened, taking long strides down the hallway to reach her door. He punched in the security code and gave the keypad one last push to open the lock. “What did Artair do when your powers got out of control?”
“My powers are fine.” Megan was a few steps behind, tripping over the long hem of her dress.
“Oh yeah. I can see that.” He smirked at the fireworks still erupting from her hair.
“Artair knew I could handle myself. And you’re not putting me in a shower.” She threw one of her shoes at him.
The silver sandal hit Johann’s cheek. “Shit, Megan.” He rubbed his face. “That hurt.”
“Good,” she said, finally catching up with him.
She pushed him aside and went into the condo first. Her other shoe came hurtling at him when he followed her inside. H
e caught it and dropped it to the floor.
“Damn it, Megan.” Four angry strides found him standing in front of her. He grabbed her shoulders, turned her back to the wall and pinned her against it. “You need to show me some respect. I’m your Sentinel.”
She shook her head and tried to shrug his hands away. “Artie’s my Sentinel. You, Joeman, are just a pain in my ass. Go back to Avalon. I don’t need you here.”
“The hell you don’t. Your powers are getting the better of you. Why? What’s changed?”
Johann leaned into her, pressing himself against hers.
Megan twisted against him, trying to break free. “Let me go, damn it.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
“Get off me, you big bully.”
His pride hurt. Here he was feeling nothing but raw desire, and the woman he so desperately wanted didn’t seem at all affected by their near embrace.
Embrace?
They’d have to be having sex to get any closer.
Tears brimmed her eyes, making his heart seize.
Johann brushed the pad of his thumb over Megan’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying.”
“It’s not that bad. All that old guy saw was a little bit of smoke, and I gave him a quick mental tweak to scramble that memory.”
“I couldn’t care less. Get off me,” she said through gritted teeth.
“When you regain some control. Why are you crying? I want to help. Tell me what to do.”
He was at a loss. Had this been Sarita or Gina, he would have probably bellowed at her and told her to straighten her spine. He’d never seen Megan vulnerable. Ever. Tears traced wet paths down her cheeks. Her mascara had smudged. Her hair was coming loose one gorgeous red tress at a time.
He couldn’t bear to see the strongest Amazon show any weakness. It made her human. It made her a woman, not a warrior. God help him.
Johann lowered his face to hers, hesitating for a brief instant before he kissed her to give her a chance to pull away. She stopped struggling and stared at him. Her warm breath caressed his face. After a couple of blinks, she raised up to meet him.
It started as a gentle kiss, but Megan’s reaction was more than he’d ever expected, more than he’d ever dreamed. She groaned deep in her throat, pushed her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Sweet. Damn, she tasted sweet. Her lips were warm and sparks started to form where his lips met hers. Little bursts like static electricity that didn’t hurt but instead heightened the pleasure from the contact. He swept his tongue past her lips and demanded more.
He let his hands slide down her back until he cupped her backside. With pure male satisfaction, he savored the moan she gave him when he pulled her hard against his erection. The wiggle of her hips as she pushed against his cock had him hard enough he was amazed any blood was reaching his brain.
Her lips left his, and she panted as though she’d run for miles. His own breathing sounded every bit as choppy. What flared between them was hot—downright consuming.
“We shouldn’t,” she whispered as she pressed kisses against his chin before moving to his neck.
Her nimble fingers slipped into his jacket and pushed it away from his shoulders. It fell to the floor.
“No, we shouldn’t,” he echoed, but he was already trying to locate the zipper on the back of the beaded dress.
He almost cried out in relief when he found the tiny piece of metal. Dragging it down, he shivered at the heat of her lips against his throat. She’d unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and was working her way down.
“I want you, Megan. More than I’ve ever wanted another woman.”
She stopped her butterfly kisses to raise her eyes to meet his. “Really?”
Johann nodded as he finished unzipping her. The heavy dress dropped to the carpet, but Megan held her ground, standing there in nothing but a pair of red panties.
Sweet heaven, she was exquisite. More beautiful than he’d ever imagined. He couldn’t find the words to tell her. Instead, he kissed her again. Long and deep, enjoying the sizzle between their lips.
* * *
Megan wanted to rip the stupid black shirt from Johann’s body. The muscles of his chest rippled beneath her fingertips, and she needed to touch his bare skin. Her fingers felt too hot, too awkward. She was amazed she wasn’t scorching the material. Her body was knotted in need, heat rising from her skin as he kissed her and stoked the raging fire inside her.
It happened so suddenly, all she could do was cry out in shock and surprise.
Her entire body erupted in flames.
Johann jerked away, first looking at his burned hands then gaping at her.
Now was as good a time to die as any. Her nightmares were finally coming true. It might not be Sparks incinerating her, but she was melting nonetheless.
“What do I do?” she managed to rasp.
Before she could react, he grabbed her and carried her to the bathroom. Practically throwing her in the tub, he fumbled to turn the faucet on. Spraying her with cold water, he doused the flames.
Sitting nearly naked in the tub, shivering enough her teeth chattered, she couldn’t even cry. Cold water beat down on her as smoke rose from her body in white tendrils.
Look at what I’ve been reduced to.
She was humiliated. She was angry. And her powers were more than she’d ever bargained for. She was at their mercy, and they weren’t at all inclined to be merciful.
Glancing up at Johann, she saw his blistered hands. “Oh, my God. I burned you. I’m so sorry.”
He moved to the sink and turned on the faucet. Holding his palms under the cold water, he grimaced. She’d hurt him. He’d never forgive her. Now, he knew her powers were entirely out of her control.
Megan stretched up to turn the shower off. Reaching for a towel, she covered her naked breasts. Her skin was red and raw, like a stupid lobster that had been put a pot of boiling water. The pain wasn’t unbearable, just uncomfortable—akin to a wicked sunburn. Besides, she was Fire. She could handle a little heat.
Amazons healed quickly, but she didn’t know about Sentinels. “We need to get you to a hospital.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll heal in a few hours.” He glanced at his hands and frowned. “Or maybe a few days.”
She wanted nothing more than to put some distance between them. She hated feeling vulnerable, and naked and wet were most certainly vulnerable.
As Megan tried to make a hasty exit, Johann stopped her by planting his body in front in the doorway. She couldn’t look him in the eye, so she stared at his blistered hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t do it on purpose. What happened?”
All she could do was shake her head. Droplets of water from her disheveled hair splashed his scorched black shirt. “Let me out.”
“No. I want to know what happened. You turned into a bundle of fire. Does that happen anytime you’re—well, you know—with a man?”
“How the hell would I know?”
He stared at her with wide eyes. “You mean you’ve never—”
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Let me through.”
Johann didn’t budge. He reached up as if to caress her cheek. As he moved his fingers, he flinched then dropped his burned hand. “Talk to me, baby.”
Her head snapped up at the endearment. “Don’t—don’t call me that.”
She pushed past him, heading to her room and slamming the door behind her.
* * *
Standing in the hallway, Johann stared at his blistered hands. They hurt like hell. He couldn’t imagine the pain Megan was in. Her skin looked like she’d been rubbed all over with a cheese gra
ter, and he wondered if he should get her some kind of lotion to ease the sting.
Of course it wasn’t like he could rub it into her skin in his condition.
His hands throbbed in rhythm with his still pounding heart. He headed back toward the bathroom to search for something to ease his pain. Then he saw the flash of light from his bedroom.
Now what?
Freya sat on the bed with a large gold cloth draped over her arm. She smiled before suddenly frowning. “Oh, Sentinel. You are injured.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t salute you, m’lady.”
She laid the shimmering cloth on the bed and came to stand in front of him. “Hold out your hands.”
“M’lady?” He was sorely tempted to hide them behind his back like a naughty child. He’d been caught red-handed playing with Fire.
“Your hands, Sentinel. Show me your hands.” As beautiful as Freya was, she could appear intimidating when she was angry.
Tall as any WNBA player, the goddess towered over most people. Johann could look her in the eye. Judging from the annoyance in her ice-blue eyes, she was angry.
With a heavy sigh, he held out his burned palms. “It was an accident. Megan didn’t mean to—”
“To what? To bed you? Aye, she did mean to.”
That was blunt. “To burn me.”
Freya crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “And how did she burn you?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “She burned you in her haste to have you. My Fire wants to warm your bed.”
What was he supposed to say to that?
Megan might have wanted him in the heat of the moment, but she’d sobered by now. “It won’t happen again.”
The goddess clucked her tongue at him and reached out to grasp his hands.
Johann tried not to balk at her touch.
“You are wrong,” she said. “It will happen again. As it should. ’Tis why I am here.”
Before he could ask her what she meant, Freya started chanting in a singsong voice using a language he didn’t recognize. The pain in his hands ebbed, then disappeared.
