“Why do you want me?” he asked.
“What?”
“Why me? You’d made up your mind before I’d even arrived, and I want to know what you saw in me that no one else has. Is it the challenge? Am I like the ultimate hold out to love, and you just can’t resist? What is it about me?”
“I saw someone who’d fight for what he wanted, but wouldn’t ask for what he needed, and I knew you needed me—just me. I thought maybe I could make you want me back, but…” Allie looked away.
Donovan grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “No, you don’t stop there. But what?”
“But you’re looking for an out! You’re always looking for an out! And I deserve better than having to manipulate you into staying.”
He rolled so she was on top. “Your question.”
“What?”
“Ask me what I see in you.”
“Donovan!” She moved to get off him, but he held her in place. “Fine! What do you see in me?”
“I see light. And hope. I see a reason to stick around for a century—to keep you safe and help you find your peace.”
“What about your peace?” she asked softly.
“I don’t deserve it.”
“You’re a better man than you think you are.”
“I don’t know about that because when I look at you, I also see the finest ass I’ve ever wanted to lay my hands on.”
She dropped her head onto his chest and he held her as laughter shook her body.
At first, holding her was enough, but then their energy blended and the rub of their bodies as she laughed made him ache both physically and deep in his soul. He wanted her, needed her.
She seemed to sense the change in the atmosphere between them because her laughter stopped abruptly and she lifted her head. “Donovan?” she whispered. That was that. When she called him “Rowe” he could resist her, barely, but not when she called him by his first name. He rolled her onto her back, settling between her thighs as he kissed her.
“Ohh,” she said between kisses. “Yes.”
Yes. Her body was welcoming his energy with a pull that nearly mimicked making love. He already felt like he was inside her. It was too much. Too soon. What if she changed her mind still?
Her nails tightened on his back and she bit his lower lip. “Donovan. Donovan,” she murmured, arching into him. “Yes.”
The friction between them was wild and he was so ready to “hell yes” and take this to the bedroom, but he reined in his hormones. No. Not yet. There was that other war demigod. Too risky. It was a good strategy to do a risk evaluation before battle and decide on acceptable casualties. The casualties versus the potential benefits to making love were still too high. He was a war demigod, dammit, he was strong enough to stop. He ducked his head, pressing it into her neck. His breathing was erratic and ragged. She’d done this to him. He wasn’t used to being out of control. But he was.
“Not. Yet,” he said, between breaths.
Allie groaned. “Rowe, you are such a tease.”
“I just think…”
“Fine,” she said. “Only because it’s soon, not because I have any doubts. But, this is the last time you can call a retreat. After this, no more. Hell, who’d have guessed a war demigod could be such a prude?”
He wasn’t a prude, not really. She should just be sure because they’d both be invested in this relationship if they made love and… okay, he could see why Allie was calling him a prude.
“Next time,” he promised.
After a few deep breaths, they got up, and he pinned her a few more times to find out her favorite color, food, and movie.
“It’s a shame you didn’t get to ask me my favorite food, seeing as how you’re making dinner,” he said, wiping his face on a towel.
She huffed out a laugh. She was pink-cheeked and grinning mischievously. “Goes to show that you can’t really trust me. Every other day, I have my cook drop off meals to reheat. She was here earlier today. Shall we go see what I’m making for dinner?”
He wound up his towel and snapped her fine ass with it.
Chapter Four
“All days should be Sunday,” Donovan said as he scooped up another bite of his omelet.
He’d been properly appreciative of her cook and Allie was owning that—since she’d hired her cook. Some might say that finding the right people for jobs was harder than doing those jobs yourself. Mrs. Croft was a find. She had a light hand with omelets, and she’d left large portions for Donovan after Allie had shown her a picture of him.
“Why is that? No work?” Allie asked.
“No, the comics are better,” he said, flipping a page in the newspaper. “I have a sugar mama now. I don’t have to work.”
Right. She’d noticed Donovan had set aside the Help Wanted section of the newspaper. It was killing him a little that she had money. Unfortunately, she liked having money too much to give it all away.
Taking another bite of her omelet, Allie moaned appreciatively. Yeah, she couldn’t give away all her worldly possessions to be with Donovan. The omelets that came with them was too good. “You know, if you were a woman, they’d call this a Cinderella story. This would be a fairytale. It’s sexist that it doesn’t go both ways.”
“I could never be Cinderella. You saw my feet last night. Can you imagine seeing one of my hairy feet jammed into a glass slipper? It’d be like when the apes in a zoo press up against the windows, only less cute.”
“Oh, I bet you’d look plenty cute.”
He snorted. “I can’t take that bet without it seeming unfair. No. My feet are definitely not cute, and I’m not cute. I’m okay with that.”
After dinner last night, she’d talked him into cuddling on the couch and watching a movie. It was a shame that her sedating energy combined with their sparring had left him so relaxed that after a goodnight kiss, he’d been content to just go to sleep. His energy was nice and she liked being casually close, but it hadn’t satisfied the ache Allie had inside her. Today would change that. She was going to take advantage of this last day of the weekend to convince Donovan they belonged together and he was just being stupid by holding off.
She’d use different words, of course.
Because he wasn’t as subtle as he thought. Donovan was still convinced that she was going to walk away from him. He didn’t trust that what they felt for each other could last. Or maybe he didn’t feel enough. No, he did. Allie could feel it in the energy he generated and his easy acceptance of her energy. He just was being gutless about risking getting hurt. Imagine that, a war demigod being a coward when it came to love. He’d probably rather face an entire army than chance getting his heart broken.
If only he’d recognize that there was zero risk of her breaking his heart. Love was healing. Love was kind. Love made up the difference between imperfect people. He was more than enough for her just as he was.
Her phone buzzed and Allie tapped on the screen to look at the notification. “Huh.”
“What?” he asked, without looking up.
“The other war demigod is coming here.” She said it without thinking and then blinked. Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have said that. Well, it’s not like she’d be able to hide meeting up with another demigod, and it didn’t mean anything to her.
Donovan slowly and precisely put down his fork and looked up at her. “Will he be staying here?”
She swallowed. Casual. Go for casual. “He doesn’t say. I’m guessing not. I’m certainly not offering. He wants to meet for dinner. Should I tell him we’ll be there?”
Her stubborn match sighed. “He wants to have dinner with you, Allie. Not me.”
“Yes, well, that’s not optional. I heard you tell that cop you were in private security, and I need you to keep me safe. You’re my bodyguard. You can get away with watching my ass for real.” Buy it, Donovan. Be there. Let me show you that only you matter.
“I don’t need to be sitting at the same table with you for that.”
&nb
sp; Was every show of affection going to be a battle? Just when Allie thought they’d made some real progress in that arena, he’d find another way to push her away. If she wasn’t so stubborn. And crafty. “You never know how fast things can happen. I definitely need you at the table right beside me.” That way the other demigod would know she was taken, without needing to have that awkward conversation, and her match would finally see that she was serious. “I’m telling you, I don’t trust Steven Garnett.”
“Did you say Steven Garnett? The Steven Garnett?”
Allie looked up from the email. “I have no idea.” Donovan said the name like she should know who this guy was.
“Is he from Texas?”
She pulled his profile up to confirm. “Yep. It says he lives in Houston… at least part of the year.”
“Let me see the picture.” She flipped the phone around and he swore. “Yeah, that’s the Steven Garnett. He’s a damn war demigod? I should’ve known.”
“Who is he?”
“Did you not Google him?” Donovan sounded angry with her.
“No.”
“No, of course not. You trust your instincts.” Donovan leaned in. “Did you Google me?”
She wasn’t misreading the heat in his eyes and it definitely wasn’t there for the reason Allie liked to see heat in his eyes.
“Did you Google me?” He didn’t raise his voice, but there was a sharp edge to it so he didn’t need to.
“No! Okay. I didn’t. I didn’t need to.”
He snorted. “Steven-freaking-Garnett.”
“Why are you angry with me?” What was the big deal? So Allie didn’t Google everyone she met. Most people would see that as a good thing. Clearly, the man in front of her was not one of those people. Though it was inexplicable as to why that was.
“I’m not...,” and he hit a fist on the table, knocking his orange juice over. Surging to his feet, Donovan stalked into the kitchen, returning with a towel. “I’m not angry with you. You just should have Googled both of us—that’s all.” He blotted at the spilled juice with enough force that the table rattled.
“Why?” Allie asked, holding her hands out. What could the great Google possibly tell her that she couldn’t figure out?
“He’s a freaking multi-millionaire, that’s why. He’s in weaponry and he’s made a killing at it.” He shook his head. “A killing… All the glamor of war without having to get your damn hands bloody, without losing an eye.” Donovan stalked through her condo, tossing the towel in the kitchen sink on his way out the door.
The slam of the door rattled all of the artwork on the walls and a Picasso sketch dropped off and face-planted the floor. Luckily, it had shatterproof glass covering it.
“Sunday is just the greatest,” she muttered to her empty condo. “Love it!”
Hell. Tears stung at her eyes. She knew Donovan. This was his great and final out. His excuse to not gamble on love and risk getting hurt. He might not even be back. She’d be mailing his stuff somewhere.
So, this was how it ended. Not in an argument. Not in passion. In love and war, there was nothing as disappointing as the other side just not showing up.
He wandered around for hours—at first, it was aimlessly, trying to outrun his thoughts. Then, he spotted a sign for a security company. Donovan went in and talked to a man in management. He left with a promise to email them his resume.
Steven Garnett. How was Donovan supposed to compete with him? And should he? Allie was better off with Garnett. He was rich, good-looking—if you liked those pretentious weasel types, and he… well, Garnett was just more her type. If she’d checked both of them out, Allie would have known that, and she wouldn’t have wasted so much time with him. Donovan had actually started to think that maybe a guy like him could have a future with a fantasy girl like Allie. But that was the fantasy.
Nearing dinnertime, he went and watched her place. At ten to seven, her red Mustang roared out of the garage going ninety. If Donovan grabbed the key to her place on the way out, he could go up and clear out while she was gone, but that was spineless, and he’d left his key behind anyway.
He’d see her one last time. He needed to.
At eight-thirty, he heard the gun of her car’s engine and Donovan went to wait by the elevator. If her date had returned with her, it’d be awkward, but he didn’t have a way to get up to Allie’s apartment without that damn key.
She slowed her approach when she saw him. Allie’s mouth was a flat line and her eyes were wary. “Hey,” she said, stopping beside him, and reaching out to push the button to go up.
“You went out to dinner.”
She shrugged. “I did.”
“How was he?”
Her jaw tightened and then Allie sighed. “He was fine. Looks like you were right—he’s not too bad.” Damn. He’d been half-hoping the man was a raving psychopath. Though, if he was, Donovan was going to feel guilty that he hadn’t been there to go along with her to dinner.
The elevator opened and they both stepped in. “So, what does that mean for us?”
“You tell me. You had all day to think about it.”
He cleared his throat. “I figured you needed to meet him on your own.”
Allie wouldn’t even look at him. She just stared straight ahead. “I’m old enough and smart enough to know what’s best for me, Rowe. Hell, I managed it just fine before you arrived.”
“You’re also impossibly stubborn.”
“I’m not the only one in this elevator suffering from that.”
“He’s better for you, Allie.”
“Allie,” she muttered and shook her head.
“What?”
“Nothing. Go on. You were saying that he’s better for me and you’re just not cut out for this. You’d never planned on living all that long. Plus, I’m wealthy and you’re not. We don’t fit. It’d be too much work.”
Having her offer up all the arguments in his head didn’t lessen their sting. “You’ll be okay with that, won’t you?”
Allie’s smile looked forced, but she was smiling. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”
The elevator doors opened to her penthouse condo in the building that she owned.
“Are you coming in?” she asked, stepping out.
He couldn’t do it. If he went in, he wouldn’t leave. Somewhere along the way, Donovan had put his heart into this and if he went in, he would beg Allie for a chance to prove he could be better for her. He shook his head. “Nah. Just mail me my stuff.”
“Okay.” She held out her hand.
It took him a second to realize she wanted them to shake hands. He’d nearly made love to her the night before and now they were shaking hands. Donovan put out his hand and shook hers.
It wasn’t until he was watching the number of floors drop in the elevator that he realized her hand had been cold as ice. What did that mean? She’d just come from dinner with a war demigod but she hadn’t seemed to absorb any of his energy just given hers. Why was that?
Maybe he wouldn’t leave town just yet.
Chapter Five
Allie took a long, hot shower, but it was a lost cause. She was never going to be warm again. Steven Garnett was everything she’d expected, and she’d come home to play out the scene she’d anticipated with Donovan.
If Garnett had been a nice guy, Allie might have felt guilty about not taking him up on his offer. But he was a controlling prick, who’d insisted on calling her Valerie. Her nickname was that of a little girl, he’d said. She’d cut out of there as soon as she could. At least she’d pulsed as much of her energy as she could his way and repulsed his. Taking his energy would have felt like cheating on Donovan. Not to mention that something about it seemed as slimy as the man exuding it. Garnett didn’t seem to notice. A guy like that was all “take, take, take.” Garnett would never go along on an extraction with her. Or be a little kid’s hero. Or be the man Allie was hopelessly in love with.
The tears she’d held off for so long shook her bod
y and Allie leaned against the wall of the shower and let them drop and drown in the water at her feet. Her tears went down the drain into the sewer. Maybe that said something.
Expressing that much energy had left Allie depleted and she’d almost grabbed energy from Donovan on the elevator up. It would have been like a parting kiss. But she didn’t want him to realize how needy she was. It seemed that pride might be her great downfall, but wasn’t that how the ancient gods always fell?
Shutting off the water, Allie pulled on the luxurious robe and knotted the belt. Normally the soft cotton was comforting, but some things even money couldn’t buy. Not tonight. After she left the bathroom, she nearly said “screw it” and went to bed with her robe on, but if her powers were more depleted than she thought—this might be the night Allie didn’t wake up, and she really didn’t want to be found in just a robe. Her usual nightgowns looked too sexy for “just got dumped” attire so she raided Donovan’s suitcase and used one of his t-shirts as a nightshirt. Then, unable to resist, she laid down on the bed he’d used. It smelled like him. She needed this. Just for tonight.
After a good night’s rest, she could make the rest of her plans. She’d set everything up so all her wealth would go to the women’s shelter and various other charities, but she’d review that before she took off. Make sure there wouldn’t be any roadblocks to them getting her money.
Because there was one thing she knew, takers and abusers didn’t just give up. Steven Garnett would be back and she wouldn’t be around to be taken.
Donovan sat at the bar nursing the same drink he had for an hour. The other patrons had started off giving him looks of concern, but it was hard to intimidate the room when he’d just gotten his soul crushed. Now, the pitying looks were enough to make him consider finding another bar.
This was ridiculous. He was a fighter. He was a warrior. He was a damn war demigod and he wanted Allie. Enough to fight for her. Hell, he was in love with her.
In. Love. With. Allie.
And he had just given up? He’d been up against impossible odds, time and again, and this time… this time… he was living in her place, with her, and he’d as good as conceded the field. What kind of fool was he?
Magic Flame (Enchanted Book 3) Page 4
