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Soul Reckoning

Page 17

by Nancy E. Polin


  Gazing at him, she traced his face, now knowing how those hard lines could soften into unexpected tenderness when he held her close. Also knowing how they could still freeze in temper or annoyance. A steady thrum pulsed in her lower belly and heat spread out in enticing threads. Everything had become a little too clear. Her feelings for him had taken a long and twisted road but the destination had turned inevitable. She thought back to their first meeting a few months earlier and shook her head in amazement and quiet resignation.

  A costumed devil knocked into her and continued to stagger past. Gasping in surprise, she stumbled back a step, catching herself before she fell. Something in the man’s costume was honed to a sharpened edge, and Rowan felt the sting and burn. She snatched her hand away, frowning down at the small trickle of blood on the webbing between her thumb and forefinger.

  Luke appeared next to her, shoving a drink served in a plastic grenade toward her. “I had to battle an Ork, Sasquatch, and an undead colonial soldier for that, so I figure it’s got to be good.” He took a swig of his own to demonstrate before taking a closer look at her. His dark brows crinkled. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing … some drunk almost knocked me over. His costume had a sharp edge or something. It’s not a big deal.” She flexed her hand and he took it in his.

  “Just a scratch, but I’ll take care of it when we get back.” He smiled at her and her heart did a quick skip. She was still getting used to how beautiful his smiles were.

  They delved into the crowd, sliding into the beat of a local band. A few carnival rides spread out to her right and she pulled him toward the Ferris wheel. He stopped and frowned as he stared up at it.

  “Scared?” She bumped her hip into his.

  “Not exactly. Just wondering how many bolts were left behind when it was last set up.”

  “Well, there’s a cheery thought.” Her fingers curled around his. “Let’s live dangerously.”

  Rowan laughed at his grim expression, but he followed her, reconciled to his fate.

  From the top, the view pulled in all the lights of the city. In the distance, they could see a riverboat paddling its way down the Mississippi and Rowan thought about that day she was down by the dock, contemplating a cruise on her own. Now she sensed Luke might be willing to join her. Content, she leaned against him and his arm looped over her shoulders, his lips brushing the top of her head. Smiling, she angled her head up toward him and he took the hint, laying his lips against hers.

  ****

  Luke sighed, aware of a new sense of peace burgeoning inside. He tried not to contemplate it, fearing it would disappear as quickly as it had settled in. He caressed her cheek and smiled as she pressed her face into his hand. Maybe everything would actually work out. Ruth’s protection spells seemed to have warded off advances of the bokor. He could only hope it stayed that way. The old woman was powerful and any other priest would be aware of it.

  As the ride made its rotation, in one swift move, Rowan flipped over to straddle him. He felt his jaw sag as a bolt of heat and lust shot through his bloodstream along with sincere shock. She pressed against him and he couldn’t bite back the groan. “What … what are you doing?”

  “Isn’t that obvious?” She slid her body over his. “How’s this for living dangerously?”

  Confused, he threaded his hand into her hair, holding her head still to look into her eyes. “Rowan?”

  Her smoky eyes glinted silver in the artificial light. “Luke.” She leaned in, molding her mouth to his aggressively, one hand venturing to stroke him through his jeans. “What’s the matter? I could give you a little ride within the ride.” She bit his neck and he startled.

  Grabbing her shoulders, he pushed her away enough to stare into her face.

  She grinned and ran her tongue over her teeth. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to fuck?”

  “What? As much as the prospect appeals, I don’t think the here and now is the best choice.” Luke frowned, alarms blaring within the confines of his skull. What began as a surprising, but exciting, little twist now had all his senses on full alert.

  “Oh, come on.” She groped him none too gently. He grunted and clenched his teeth. “Your body is telling me something different than your words.”

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” Heartbeat thudding from lust to fear, he held her tight, trying to read her face.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you? I thought all guys—” Her words tumbled to a stop, eyes widening in shock. She stared at him, bewilderment pushing out lust like the turn of a page. “Luke, I … I don’t feel well…”

  Every ounce of color bled from her face as her fingers gripped his forearms before loosening. Her eyes rolled backward and she slumped.

  He caught her before she could sink to the bottom of the pod, hugging her to him. His heart thundered hard enough to bruise his ribs when the sudden scorching fever heat of her body bled against his.

  Luke yelled for the operator to stop the ride, but it took two complete cycles for the wheel to come to a halt. By that time, she’d come around, blinking up at him in confusion, the flare of fever gone.

  “Let’s get you to the hospital.” He tried to lift her, but she pushed against him, shaking her head. Fear chilled him as he watched her wobble a little and he darkly wondered if he was destined to lose Rowan, too, shaking it off a moment later.

  No, that couldn’t happen. No fucking way.

  ****

  A little unsteady, strength gradually flowed back into her muscles. “I’m okay.” The words sounded hollow to her own ears, so she tried again. “Really, Luke. I’m okay. I think I just want to go.”

  He stared at her, dubious.

  “Please.” She touched his cheek. “Please.”

  The ride operator shifted his substantial weight from foot to foot. “She okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Rowan didn’t know if she was or not. Her body tingled as if she’d received one hell of an electric shock and snippets of humiliating memories warmed her face. White-hot lust had boiled her blood, and in those moments, she’d wanted him any way she could get him inside her.

  That hadn’t been her. Had it? The idea of such a public display was unfathomable. Their rainy day embrace had been bad enough.

  Luke wrapped an arm around her waist. “All right, let’s get out of here.”

  She nodded. “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

  A half-smile pulled at his face. “Don’t be. You surprised me, that’s all. And then scared off a few years of life. Good thing I’m relatively young.”

  Troubled, she didn’t smile.

  Luke guided her through the crowd, using himself as a battering ram when necessary, earning multiple oaths and one bird in his direction. She leaned into him, hoping to absorb some of his strength. God, she hated feeling vulnerable.

  The throng of people gradually disappeared and she let out a relieved sigh. At least they weren’t all that far away from home. Home. She almost smiled at the thought.

  “Did you want to grab some late dinner?” He squeezed her hand. “Protein might help.”

  Rowan considered the suggestion for a moment before nodding. Despite her episode, or whatever the hell it was, she’d been enjoying her time out with him. “Um, sure. That’s probably a good idea.”

  They stopped at a popular local place that actively shooed out the under-twenty-one set with the presence of poker machines. Weathered brick, open beams, ceiling fans, and subdued lighting gave the place a pleasant, rustic feel.

  They claimed a corner table on the perimeter where they could relax and watch the dance and prance of the intoxicated close to the bar. Rowan reached across the table to curl her fingers with his and he brushed his thumb over the silkiness of her skin. The cut had dried, leaving a crusting of blood over the small wound. A purplish bruise spread out from either side. “You should go wash that.”

  She gazed down at it, puzzled. “Oh, I guess I’d forgotten.” Pushing away from the table, s
he threw him a tiny smile and wandered through the crowd toward the back hallway, pushing through the swinging door into the ladies room.

  Several other women clamored at the mirror, but she located the one free sink at the end, using the medicinal-smelling soap to clean the cut. It was just a narrow slash, but it pulsed more than it seemed to have a right to.

  When she heard the whisper, she glanced over and frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  The woman next to her attended to a complex series of eye shadow layers, face tense in concentration. She paused to shoot Rowan a narrow look. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you said something.”

  “Wasn’t me. Maybe the little people at the bottom of the bottle are talking to you.” She guffawed at her own joke and went back to layer number six.

  A low roar built in Rowan’s ears, the whisper shielded within. She shook her head and stared into her own eyes. Dots blotted out the reflection and she blinked repeatedly until they cleared.

  She wondered when the hell she’d developed tinnitus. Wasn’t that what ringing in the ears was?

  The whisper threaded through her head again, but she couldn’t decipher the words. They sounded alien, muddled, and unrecognizable. She glanced over where several other women washed hands, brushed hair, touched up makeup. None acted as if anything were awry.

  Disquiet crept up the back of her neck, bringing the chill of sweat, and she pulled in a deep, steadying breath.

  Cupping her hands under the spigot, she brought them to her face, closing her eyes as the cool water ran down her heated skin. She repeated the motion several times before blotting with paper towels.

  The whispers eased and her mind erased them.

  She slid back out into the bar, gaze zeroing in on Luke. He’d ordered her a hurricane and himself a beer, taking a swig as she gazed at him. She watched his hands, loving the strength of them, knowing what pleasures they were capable of inducing. The thought fluttered around the primal part of her brain and Rowan’s cheeks heated. She was thankful for the dim light.

  It was so much more now.

  The physical was lovely, but there were times when she felt like she was falling, despite knowing her feet were firm against the earth. Her brain would become muddled for a long moment before clarifying into that beautiful and coveted emotion. A connection, contentious at the beginning, had turned into something so much bigger than she could have ever imagined. She’d thought she’d loved Craig, but compared to what wove around her heart now, it seemed like a distant second-grade crush.

  She allowed herself to observe him a few more moments, distantly noting the slide of something insidious weaving with her warm feelings just beneath the flesh. Shaking her head to dispel it, she returned to her seat.

  ****

  “Better?” Luke stood when she appeared back at the table.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  The waiter swooped by to collect their orders and Luke shot up an eyebrow when Rowan ordered a hefty portion of fried chicken with all the trimmings, but shrugged a second later. He’d probably get to sample when she only finished half. When he ordered his own meal, he landed on the other end of a scowl.

  “Rabbit jambalaya?”

  “What? It’s delicious.”

  “Bunny. You’re going to eat a bunny.”

  “Yummy.” He grinned, winked, and sipped his beer. Much better. Her fire and color were back. Luke gave an inward sigh of relief, unwilling to admit how much the incident on the Ferris wheel had shaken him. His lizard brain naturally wanted to consider a new exciting layer to the woman, while his logical side slapped him around and told him to stop thinking with his penis.

  Nonetheless, he observed her carefully without allowing it to appear she was being scrutinized. If nothing, he was excellent at feigning indifference.

  She chatted about future plans for The Goose, mentioned an obligatory trip back to L.A. to see her parents, and even managed to leech a little more information about his own family from him. Nothing about the past couple of months surfaced.

  It was business as usual and Luke began to relax.

  When the waiter arrived with their meals, he bit into a forkful of his jambalaya, enjoying the spice and mélange of flavors, frowning a moment later at Rowan. She’d torn into her food, eating with an exuberance he’d never witnessed from her before. An uneasy thought brought on by memory of another woman and another time brought a cool clamminess to his skin.

  Cate had eaten like that before finding out she was pregnant with McKenzie.

  Nausea clenched his belly and he reached for his beer, finishing it in a couple large gulps. That couldn’t be. They’d been careful. For the most part. Images of an impulsive afterhours tumble behind the bar introduced chips of ice into his blood.

  No way.

  Probably a natural bodily reaction to her earlier weakness. It would stand to reason that all that stress and reduced appetite would culminate in such a response. That was it. It made sense.

  “Are you okay?” Rowan stared at him, pausing with a hush puppy halfway to her mouth. “You look a little pale.”

  He cleared his throat, wanting water, flagging down the waiter for some. “I’m fine, just worried about you.”

  “No need.” The two words came out around her food and Luke winced. Her table manners appeared to have taken a hiatus. “I feel good. Really good.”

  As if just remembering, she swallowed and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin.

  “You’ve certainly discovered your appetite.”

  She grimaced and glanced down at her dinner before meeting his gaze with a slow, wanton smile that made his heart lurch and all his thoughts disintegrate. “Maybe I need the energy for later.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rowan didn’t quite understand what was happening.

  She felt giddy before they’d left the restaurant and it still permeated by the time they reached The Goose. Even the choice to walk hadn’t suppressed it. Now as they approached the bustle of the tavern, she was too aware of each point of contact with Luke. Their fingers stayed entwined, palms pressed together. Occasionally, they’d bump against one another or he’d pull her close to make some kind of witty observation in a dry tone that had her bursting with laughter.

  The moment they stepped inside, Justin lifted a hand in a greeting that didn’t reach his eyes and Christy smiled as she buzzed by with a tray. But Rowan could only manage to acknowledge them on the most cursory of levels. Something else reared up, heating her, making her pound from within. Sweat dampened her forehead, muscles tensing, and she squeezed Luke’s hand a second before giving it a strong yank.

  He looked down at her, one brow lifting in question.

  Despite the tremors growing stronger from within, she took a deep breath and smiled at him. She needed to step back before the fire consumed her from within, but patience was something difficult to maintain.

  She needed him. Now.

  And it confused the hell out of her. Not that she didn’t want him, no that wasn’t it. The very act of looking at him was enough to have her hormones humming, but the current power of her need overwhelmed her.

  Control waning, Rowan pressed close, one arm around his waist, the other hand curled in the fabric of his shirt. As they walked, her fingers poked beneath, stroking the lean muscles of his stomach above the waistband and evoking a shudder from him.

  The moment they stepped into the little apartment, she pulled him down to her, blistering his lips with a hard, intense kiss. His body melded with hers as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other splayed across her hip. Her aggression seemed to kindle his own, swelling with a demanding excitement.

  When he lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he stumbled into the bedroom, dropping her onto the mattress and following her down.

  Luke sought to roll her beneath him, but she pushed back, reversing their positions until she grinned down into his face. Tipping forward, she c
aught his lower lip between her teeth to give it a playful tug, joining her mouth with his the moment after to ease the sting of her nip.

  She wanted him at her mercy, something sensual, yet dark and malignant flaring deep inside at the thought. Her body hummed with intensity, fear from the evening shrinking from memory.

  ****

  Unwilling to give her complete control, he cradled her face to return the kiss, holding tight as if she were mist ready to slip between his fingers. The light floral scent of her filled him, fuzzing his brain but heating his blood and flesh. His need and want boiled over when she pressed her body flush to his. When he tried to flip her over once more, she broke the kiss and pulled away, flashing a grin that reminded him of something feral, dangerous. The gray of her eyes glinted like a knife’s blade and a flutter of unease seesawed inside him for the second time that night.

  “No, you don’t.”

  When fabric ripped and buttons of his shirt popped, the ominous feeling escaped him. She pushed his clothing aside to run her hands over his chest, replacing them with her mouth. She bit his shoulder, laving and kissing her way across his torso. There was no pause over his scars. Rowan accepted his damage without hesitation. Fire ignited his blood and loins as Luke pulled her up to cover her mouth with his. She returned it, deeply, yanked away, and shoved him back into the pillows to explore his body with her hands, nails, and mouth. A long groan rattled from between his lips, but he watched her intently.

  Unzipping him, she stroked and caressed, at once gentle but building, soon skirting the line of roughness. He jerked with a grunt, and she grinned up at him, eyes bright.

  “Rowan…”

  “Shhh … relax. Let me make you feel good.”

  She slowly built him up again, using fingers, hands, teeth, and lips. Tortured, his breath whooshed deafeningly in his ears, his heart slamming itself to jagged pieces against his ribcage. When Rowan backed off, Luke belly-growled, blood pressure ready to erupt. He made a grab for her, but she slipped past, laughing. The sound was low and sultry, winding him up even more.

 

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