by Ashlyn Chase
Konrad paused by the chairs they sat in earlier and let her point it out, but he refused to put her down. One of the instructors handed it to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to call an ambulance?”
“No, I can get her there faster than they can.”
“Okay.” The male instructor opened the door for them and held it while Konrad carried her down the stairs to the sidewalk.
“Hang on, hon,” he said, and as soon as she’d locked her arms around his neck, he sprinted down the street.
Chapter 7
The emergency room doctor delivered the good news as she studied the x-ray. “You’re lucky. Nothing’s broken. It’s just a sprain and should heal in a few days.”
“I feel like a complete klutz.”
“Roz, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine,” Konrad said.
“No, it was mine. I tripped you.”
Konrad placed his hands on his hips. “Well, clearly dancing isn’t our thing.”
The ER doctor laughed and finished winding the bandage around Roz’s ankle. “There you go, Rosalyn. Now stay off your feet and keep your right ankle elevated. Use ice to bring down the swelling and Tylenol every four hours as needed for pain.”
Roz sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” Tylenol. Ice. Nothing really numbing, like Demerol, huh?
“Do you have any crutches?” the doctor asked.
“No, but I’ll buy some.”
Konrad patted her back. “I have some you can borrow.”
Roz snorted. “Oh, that would be fun to watch. I’ll look like a pole vaulter in the Olympics, except with two poles.”
The doctor grinned. “I’m sure the crutches are adjustable; most are. Anyway, you’re all set to go, but call us if you have any questions or your condition changes. How are you getting home?”
Konrad plucked her off the exam table and cradled her in his arms. “I’ll carry her home safely.”
The doctor let out a deep sigh. “I wish I had a big, strapping, hottie to—”
Roz raised her eyebrows. She’d better not be after my guy. I might sprain a wrist punching her, and then who’d patch me up? Probably not the doctor I’d just knocked out.
The woman cleared her throat and looked away. “Oh, sorry. I guess that wasn’t very professional.”
Roz finally had a reason to chuckle. “Yeah, well you’ll have to get your own. This one’s taken.” She turned her face to Konrad’s for a full-on kiss.
The doctor said, “Hey, get a room. I mean, another room.”
Konrad broke the kiss. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s go, angel.”
“Aw, he even calls you ‘angel.’ You don’t happen to have a brother, do you?”
Konrad grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do. How do you feel about cops?”
“Really?” The doctor’s eyes lit up. “Health professionals date cops all the time. Something about serving the public and understanding the need to put the job first, yada, yada, yada.”
“Well, give me your number, and I’ll pass it on to him.”
“Does he look like you?”
“We’re twins. Identical.”
The doctor fanned herself with the sheet of paper in her hand. “Oh, wow. There is a God. Here, I’ll write my name and number on your girlfriend’s discharge instructions.”
She scrawled something on the back before Roz had a chance to say yea or nay. Roz hoped the good doc wasn’t trying to find a subtle way to slip Konrad her phone number.
The doctor folded the paper, tucked it into his shirt pocket, and gave it a little pat. “This is my weekend on, so I’m off next weekend. Don’t forget to tell your twin to call me.” She then hurried off toward the nurse’s station.
“Awesome,” Roz said, deadpan. “We can double date.”
“Not gonna happen. I want you all to myself.”
She wound her arms tighter around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go home.” She’d forgotten to worry about her heaviness until that moment. Putting her full weight in his arms seemed nearly natural.
***
On the way to their apartment building, Konrad shared the brilliant idea of consulting the witches about what jobs might work for them. Roz wasn’t so sure it was brilliant, but couldn’t put her finger on why not. They were still discussing the subject when they reached their building.
Roz considered the possibility from different angles, and even though she was open-minded, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go to the mysterious women upstairs. “Don’t witches predict the future with Tarot cards and stuff? They aren’t career counselors.” Still in Konrad’s arms, she used her outer door key to open the front door. His broad back braced it open as he maneuvered them inside.
“True. But maybe they can look into our futures and tell us what we’ll wind up doing. Then we can cut out all the trial and error.” He reached her apartment door, and as soon as she unlocked it, they made their way inside.
“Hmm. I’m not sure that’s how it works, either. What if we check online? Then if it’s not a great way to make this kind of decision and we don’t want to take their advice, we won’t insult our neighbors.”
Konrad set her on the sofa and fluffed up a throw pillow. He carefully placed it under her ankle. “That’s not a bad idea. Do you mind if we use your computer? I don’t have one.”
She pointed and said, “Be my guest. It’s in the top of my desk.”
As soon as he’d laid the ice pack on her ankle, he strolled to the roll-top desk. Roz admired his strong grace.
“I haven’t seen one of these desks for ages.” The top clickety-clicked as he opened it. “I always liked them.” He took the laptop to Roz and asked, “Are you as into antiques as it seems, from your living room furniture?”
“Kind of. I mean, I like a few nice pieces, but I don’t want to clutter my place with dusty old junk.”
“No, you have a nice balance between old and…older.” He smiled, and she knew he was kidding.
“Thanks.” She opened the laptop and turned it on. “Give it a minute to warm up. What keyword should we search?”
Konrad stretched. “I don’t know. Why don’t you Google tarot?”
As soon as the machine was ready, Roz typed in tarot. Up came thousands of hits. “Okay, we might have to narrow this down a bit. What should we look for? An online reader?”
“That sounds about right. Try it.”
Roz went back to the search function and added card reader. “Well, the good news is there are still thousands to choose from.”
Konrad looked over her shoulder. “What’s the bad news?”
“There are still thousands to choose from.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’ve got to start somewhere. What’s the first link?”
“Wikipedia.”
“That’s not what we want. Find one that says something about giving consultations.”
Roz handed him the laptop. “Why don’t you pick one and see if you like the website?”
Konrad took a seat on the ottoman, and Roz watched as he clicked and clicked. He seemed comfortable with the laptop, despite his big fingers. She hadn’t noticed a typewriter in his apartment, but maybe he kept one hidden away, or maybe he was just used to typing from his former days as a teacher.
“Here’s one I like. Tarot by Arwen. Professional, compassionate tarot consultations.”
Roz reached for the laptop. “Let me see.” She scanned the site, and it seemed well set up and maintained. She looked at a few blog postings from the archives and decided the woman seemed as advertised, “professional and compassionate.”
“I like her picture. It looks like a candid of her laughing.” Konrad smiled as he said it. “So many psychics seem overly serious, with no sense of humor.”
Roz drew in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s give Arwen a shot. She even has a handy ‘contact Arwen’ link.” She handed the laptop back to Konrad.
“You want me to contact her?”
“Sure. You seem to know more about it, so why don’t you go first?”
“Okay, here goes nothin’.”
He clickety-clicked across the keyboard in a rush of words that made her curious.
“Isn’t there some kind of form to fill out?”
“No. Just a blank page to give her some basic information and whatever else you want her to know.
“I guess you want her to know everything about you. Hell, even I don’t know that much.”
“Wisenheimer.”
“Hey, you talked me into this.” She kicked at him and winced. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He smirked.
After he typed what seemed to be an extremely long message and sent it, Roz asked, “What was all that about?”
“She needed certain information. Name, date of birth, time and place of birth. Plus I had a bit of explanation I had to include…about the need for a fast track to the new career and how we’re trying different things, I mean.”
“It sounds as if she’s doing astrology, with all the birth info. When is your birthday, anyway?”
He grinned. “It’s easy to remember. Twelve, twelve.” “Don’t ask the year.”
“Why don’t you want to tell me the year?”
Damn.
“Are you afraid to let me know how old you are?” She crossed her arms.
“I’m older than you; let’s leave it at that.”
“Not much, judging by your looks.” She cocked her head and studied him. “To be honest, you could even be younger. Ah, ha! So that’s it. You’re younger than I am, and you don’t want me to feel old…or worse, like I have the upper hand by being older and wiser.”
He rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I’m older. And I like having you on top now and then.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink.
“There you go, always thinking about sex.”
“Can’t help it. You turn me on.” He cupped her breast and raked a thumb over the fabric of her blouse.
Her nipple registered the sensation, and she groaned. “Not much we can do about it until this ankle heals.”
“Sure we can. We just have to think creatively. Do you have any duct tape or masking tape?”
Roz’s eyes rounded. “Du…duct tape? What for? My ankle is already wrapped in an Ace bandage.”
Konrad laughed. “I just want to tape the ice pack on.”
“Oh.” Roz’s face heated. “I could probably leave it off. The discharge instructions said to keep it on no more than twenty minutes at a time, and then to leave it off for twenty.”
One side of Konrad’s mouth hitched up. “I guess we can make twenty minutes count.” Then he waggled his eyebrows.
“Wait a minute, cowboy. I haven’t even said I want to have sex right now.”
“Oh.” His face fell. “Don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Depending on what your creative position requires.”
He chuckled. “I think you can manage it. It’s called missionary style.”
Roz laughed.
Konrad swooped in for a deep kiss.
A few minutes of making out on the couch later, Roz’s laptop pinged, announcing she had email. “Whew, saved by the bell. Would you mind?” She reached in the general direction of the laptop, and he handed it to her.
She opened her email and saw that Arwen had responded. “Wow, that Arwen is fast. She sent payment information and something else. A message for you, I guess.”
Konrad practically ripped the laptop out of her hands, looking nervous.
It just said, “I understand. You can trust me.” Roz’s curiosity was piqued. “What is that about?”
“Oh, I added some personal information…about my strengths and limitations.” “Don’t think about it; don’t think about it…”
There he goes again. “I see.” Roz eyed him suspiciously. “What is it you don’t want me to know?”
He hung his head. “Someday I’ll tell you, but right now I just…I just can’t, okay? It’s a long story.”
“You can trust me, you know.”
“I know. And even that turns me on.”
He stood and abruptly scooped her into his arms. Roz gulped, unable to tear her gaze from his. Konrad’s stare grew molten as he carried her to the bedroom and laid her in the middle of the queen-size bed. He unbuttoned her blouse carefully and popped open the front closure of her bra. Then he climbed in beside her.
“You seem to have better control over your rough side this time.”
“You’re hurt.”
His tender treatment of her spoke volumes, and she relaxed, ready for anything he wanted to do with her.
He traced a calloused fingertip across her nipples, and she shivered. He brought the finger to his mouth, wet it, and circled each nipple in turn.
The cool air mingled with her dampened nipples, and they puckered. She wanted to jump him, hurry him, but her injury prevented her from doing anything more than lying next to him, completely at his mercy.
His blond head bent, trailing kisses over her collarbone, licking the dip between her breasts, then, at last, licking one of her nipples. Her breath hitched when he caught the tight bud between his lips and tugged.
Konrad slipped his hand under the other globe and lifted it as if appreciating its weight. His thumb scraped across the nub while he sucked the one next to his mouth. Glorious electricity shot from her nipples to her pussy.
Her heart pounded as he backed away and unsnapped her pants. Placing her weight on her good heel, she arched and lifted her buttocks. Konrad peeled her pants down her legs and carefully pulled them over and off her injured ankle.
Even though she was exposed and vulnerable, she didn’t shy away from his piercing stare. She wanted him to finish what he’d begun. Strip, damn it. I want to admire you too.
Konrad grinned, and his canines seemed longer.
Must be my imagination.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head, exposing his impressive pectoral muscles and six-pack abs. She’d grown used to his massive biceps, but even they seemed to loom larger than normal. She remembered he’d been carrying her around all evening.
Roz had never been very bold in the bedroom, but this man made her want to try it all. Gentle sex, rough sex, twisted-ankle sex. No one else had ever made her come undone like he did. She could starve to death in bed with Konrad, and for as much as she loved food, that was saying quite a lot.
He lay down beside her and leaned over for a long, languorous kiss. She held him by the shoulders, always worried about accidentally pulling his hair. When their lips finally parted, Konrad planted wet, hot kisses down her abdomen to her navel.
He began to part her thighs by moving her good leg.
“You don’t have to do that,” Roz said.
“I know I don’t have to.”
“I mean, I love it when you do, but it might be kind of awkward—” Surprise overtook her as he jumped over her good leg, and as she tried to spread her knees, pain stabbed her ankle. “Owww!”
He froze. “I can’t do this. I might hurt you.”
Roz took some deep breaths until the pain subsided. “I’m sorry. I wish I could—”
“Don’t be sorry. There are bound to be times when one of us can’t handle having sex.” He leaned over and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
“And you won’t dump me for someone less accident prone?”
He laughed. “Not a chance.”
Chapter 8
“Here it is, ‘Tarot reading by Arwen for Konrad Wolfensen.’” Konrad had taken Roz’s laptop to her bedroom and stretched out beside her.
Roz, still naked but covered with a sheet, lounged with her foot propped on a pillow. “Read it out loud.”
Konrad had stolen a peek before taking it to Roz and made sure nothing incriminating, like his year of birth, 1912, was mentioned. He wasn’t ready to explain that werewolves aged at a much slower rate than humans. Hell, he wasn’t ready to reveal he was a Lycan at all! Fortunately, Arwen r
eferenced his birthday only as December 12.
Since Roz looked comfortable, reading aloud seemed like the best way to share the information, despite the fascinating pictures of the tarot cards themselves. He set the laptop in front of him so he could read and run his fingers lightly over Roz’s arm at the same time. She shivered.
“Sorry. Do you want me to stop doing that?”
“As long as you can read and avoid touching me in those especially distracting places, I should be able to handle it.”
He grinned. “I’ll try to behave myself. Okay, so the first heading says, ‘How do you see the people around you?’ You don’t really want to hear that part, do you?”
“Of course I do! I’m around you, and I’d like to know how you see me.”
He laughed. “I think it’s more general than that, but here goes. ‘People around you represent opportunity. They are your chance to achieve and show off a bit. Sometimes you see what they have and yearn for that.
“‘You have an unopened bag of tricks yet. There are things these people still have not seen about you. Things you still have to show them. There is some need to prove yourself to these people.’”
“Hmmm…” Roz interjected. “I wonder what that could be?”
“Yeah, well…who knows? Should I continue?”
“Please.”
Konrad cleared his throat. “Okay, just a little left of that category. It says, ‘The ships in the harbor represent coming chances with three people. You are focused on one of them, and it is possibly causing you to be a bit off your game. The sandals in the sand indicate that some part of you is ready to put down roots.’”
Roz raised her eyebrows as if asking a question, but didn’t verbalize it.
“Here, I’ll show you the picture of the card, so you can see the ship and sandals.” He turned the screen toward her.
She nodded at it. “Pretty. It kind of looks like a guy is playing limbo on the beach. Maybe it’s the Club Med card.”
He chuckled, but more to cover his disappointment. Okay, so it didn’t seem like she was ready to talk about commitment. He’d have to wait for the right moment. Things like that shouldn’t be rushed.
He turned the screen back to where he could read it and scrolled down. “The next category is ‘How are you seen by the people around you?’ Ha, now it’s my turn.” And my chance to have a little fun.
