“Apology accepted. Now get out.”
He reached for her, his movement as slow and cautious as though she were a wounded animal. Gently he captured her chin in his palm, his long fingers splaying across the smooth expanse of her cheek, sparking a line of fire that burned her skin as if it were a brand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “That was uncalled for. You didn’t deserve that.”
Oh, great. Now she was going to cry. How could one man succeed in rousing such a riot of conflicting emotions? she wondered in despair. One minute they were fierce enemies, pitched in a no-holds-barred battle. And in the next they were comrades, exhausted soldiers who’d fought too many wars and licked too many wounds. Warriors who wanted to curl up in each others’ arms for a brief respite, safe from those who would hurt them.
It took a moment to steady her voice enough to reply. “Mathias is my brother-in-law, not my lover.”
“I know that now. I apologize for insulting you. It won’t happen again.”
The fiery anger eased, shifting to something else equally fiery, something that worried her far more than false assumptions or Christmas wishes run amuck. She suddenly realized that Raven’s breathing had quickened, an exact match for her own. He stroked her cheek with gentle fingertips and the fire raged hotter. And his eyes, those brilliant black eyes of his... A weary understanding dawned in that dark gaze—an understanding she wanted desperately to deny.
“Damn,” he whispered. Ever so carefully, he released her, his hand slipping away. He stepped back, allowing her to breathe again. With an economy of motion, he recovered his jacket from the end of the bed and crossed to the door.
“Noon tomorrow, fairy lady,” he reminded her without looking around. “Don’t be late.”
And then he was gone leaving her more upset and confused than ever. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to hug away the pain. It didn’t help. What in the hell had she gotten herself into? she wondered anxiously. And what in the world could she do to fight her way free?
River opened the book Justice had given her. “Read it again, Gem,” she demanded. She’d already listened to the story four times. But it was so wonderful, she had to hear it once more.
“READING TIME EXPIRED TWO POINT THREE MINUTES AGO. LIGHTS MUST NOW BE EXTINGUISHED FOR SLEEP PERIOD.”
“I don’t want to go to bed.”
“ERROR NUMBER THREE-OH-EIGHT.”
“I know. I know.” River pouted. “That means I have to go to bed, right?”
“AFFIRMATIVE.”
“Okay.” She tucked the book carefully under her pillow. “But turn on my night-light.”
“NIGHT-LIGHT ACTIVATED.”
“Gem?”
“STATE REQUEST.”
“Will you read me the book again, so I can go to sleep? I won’t look at the pictures. I promise. I just want to hear the story.”
“AFFIRMATIVE. BOOK HAS BEEN SCANNED INTO MEMORY.”
“Gem?”
“CONTINUE.”
“Do you think the book is right? Do you think Fausta’s magic would work?”
“INSUFFICIENT DATA TO FORMULATE CONCLUSION.”
“Huh?”
“IT IS NOT POSSIBLE TO DETERMINE OUTCOME WITHOUT MORE INFORMATION.”
“You don’t know?”
“AFFIRMATIVE.”
“Do you think we could try? It would be like the birthday wish. Maybe it works like that.”
“AFFIRMATIVE. FOLLOWING REQUIRED STEPS SHOULD RESULT IN DESCRIBED OUTCOME.”
River yawned. “What does that mean?”
“MAGIC SHOULD WORK.”
“Okay, good. Let’s start tomorrow.” She snuggled deeper under the covers. “Will you help?”
“AFFIRMATIVE.”
“Thanks.” She hugged her rag doll and closed her eyes. “I love you, Gem.”
“ONE MOMENT. PROCESSING.” A confused series of beeps emitted from the speakers. “RELAYING INFORMATION TO PRIMARY FOR DIRECTION. REQUEST ANALYSIS AND INSTRUCTION.”
But by the time the analysis had been completed and the instructions returned, River was sound asleep. If she heard the computer’s whisper-mode response, it was only in a dream.
“GEM UNIT LOVES FEMALE OFFSPRING UNIT, TOO.”
CHAPTER THREE
“What you’ve requested is very difficult and very, very dangerous,” Fausta explained. “And the price is high. But if you’re willing to risk everything, your wish is possible. The first task you must accomplish is to gather seven gifts for Nemesis.”
Justice nodded, struggling to be brave. Fortunately her desire far outweighed her fear. “What’s the first gift?” she asked.
“It’s a simple one,” Fausta said with a smile. “You must take a tiny piece of love and slip it into a silken bag.”
Page 13, The Great Dragon Hunt
by Jack Rabbitt
“DAMMIT all! What the hell did I do with my cuff links?”
“You’re not supposed to use bad words,” River reminded.
Raven released his breath in a gusty sigh. She was right, of course. When Maise had died, he’d sat in a darkened room, holding a tiny infant in his arms and vowed to be the perfect parent. Foolish of him. He should have realized perfection would come hard to a man so riddled with imperfections. Still, he continued to battle his less noble inclinations. Too bad success came in such varying degrees—as providence seemed determined to prove this morning. His mouth twisted. Not to mention last night.
“Sorry, honey. I’ll try to be more careful.” He frowned at his dresser. “I just don’t know what the, er—” he spared a quick glance in his daughter’s direction “—heck I did with those cuff links. I could have sworn I left them right here.”
“I lose things all the time, too.” She clutched her rag doll protectively to her chest, as though to prevent such a disastrous fate from befalling her most prized possession. “Maybe it was pixies. They like to play tricks on people.”
“It wasn’t pixies,” he stated forcefully. Making an effort to moderate his voice, he added, “You know there’s no such thing.”
“Nawna said there was. They used to steal her glasses all the time. Then she’d say, ‘Dang pixies. I’m pix’lated, I am.’”
Her imitation was nearly perfect. Quite a feat considering the old woman had been gone a full year now. “Nawna liked to play pretend. When she told you about the pixies and the fairies and all that other sh—er—stuff, she was playing make-believe. They’re not real.”
His daughter simply looked at him with childlike stubbornness and he sighed again, giving it up. He knew a fruitless battle when he saw one. He opened his dresser drawer and shoved aside a pile of socks. Damn. Still no cuff links. What the hell had he done with them? “They were the cuff links you picked out for my birthday,” he explained, opening another drawer. “That’s why I feel so bad about misplacing them.”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad.” Tilting her head to one side, she fixed him with the sweet eyes of a dreamer. “Do you want me to wish for them back?”
Raven gritted his teeth, swallowing the curses burning to be vented. “No, thanks. Why don’t you save that wish for yourself.”
“Okay.” She ground a toe into the thick carpet, studying the impression it left behind. Apparently satisfied with the results, she returned her attention to her father. “Will Justice be coming for a visit today?”
“Yes. She promised to come for lunch.”
Assuming he hadn’t frightened her off. Somehow he doubted he had. J.J. Randell didn’t strike him as the type to frighten easily. Of course, that business right before he left might have given her second thoughts. He shook his head in disgust. Why the hell had he insulted her, anyway? Self-preservation, probably. There was something about River’s fairy lady that disturbed him—disturbed him in ways he hadn’t experienced in years.
He scowled as he analyzed the problem. What was it? What had affected him on such an intensely primitive level? Perhaps it had been the way she’d trembled when h
e’d touched her, or the pain and disillusionment darkening her honey brown eyes, a pain and disillusionment that mirrored his own. He only knew that the instant he’d felt the sweet silk of her cheek beneath his hand, he’d wanted to back her up the two steps it would have taken to reach the bed. And then he’d wanted to make love to her, to transform her anguish to pleasure, to release the seething emotions she kept under such tight control.
Instead he’d walked out the door—probably the only smart move he’d made since meeting her.
“Daddy?” River tugged on his pants leg, crumpling the material. Not that he cared. He sort of liked going to work with little girl crumples creasing the perfect cut of his suit. It kept him grounded. “Daddy, why can’t we see Justice now?”
“Because I invited her for lunch, not breakfast. We’re going to talk about your wish while we eat and see if we can’t get that taken care of today.”
For a brief instant River brightened. “Are you going to make her stay and be my mommy?”
“She can’t do that, remember?”
“Because she’s a fairy and fairies can’t stay people or they die. Right?”
“J.J. isn’t a fairy. Fairies aren’t real.” It was a refrain he’d repeated a hundred times. It had as much impact on this occasion as it had the other ninety-nine. Usually his daughter simply ignored the repetitive assertion. This time she chose to counter it.
“If she’s not a fairy then why can’t she be my mommy?”
“Because—” Her logic defeated him. Where the hell did she come up with this stuff? If he didn’t know better, he’d swear someone was feeding her the appropriate questions to ask. “Because she’d have to marry me. And for two people to get married, they have to love each other.”
“Like you and mommy did?”
His throat grew tight. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just like that.”
“I could wish that you and Justice fall in love. Okay?”
Uh-oh. “Don’t go there, River. It won’t work.”
“Because Justice is a fairy?”.
“Justice is make-believe. J.J. is a real person. And I’m not in love with either one. Love can’t be wished into existence. It has to grow on its own.” He waited for his daughter to cite another Jack Rabbitt “truism” to counter his statement. To his utter relief, she simply nodded.
“Okay. I won’t make that my wish.”
“River, JJ. isn’t a fairy,” he tried one final time. “Got it? You need to trust me about that.”
“Grown-ups never believe in magic stuff. They’re not supposed to ’cuz it’s only for kids.” River trotted to the door and paused. She’d lifted her rag doll to her shoulder so that only her eyes peeked over the black yam head. He groaned. Heaven protect him from the power of those glorious eyes. “Only fairies can give wishes, Daddy. That’s how come I know Justice is a real fairy.”
A touch of indulgence colored her piping voice and he could have sworn her gaze held a spark of amusement far exceeding a child of five. It was positively frightening. He also suspected it was a hint of what he could expect in the years ahead. Satisfied at having delivered the final salvo regarding fantasy lore, River slipped from the room leaving Raven to consign J.J., Jack Rabbitt and Mathias Blackstone to the darkest pits of purgatory.
And he did it using words his daughter would find quite objectionable.
She’d made a mistake. J.J. realized it the instant she stepped foot in Raven’s office. She’d deliberately dressed all in black, having purchased her current outfit just two short hours ago. In the store, the plain calf-length black skirt and equally plain black sweater had seemed simple and unassuming. Only one small detail had escaped her calculations.
It hadn’t occurred to her that Raven would dress in black, too. She shook her head in disgust. Good grief! With their matching dark hair and eyes, they looked like mated bookends. He must have thought the same, for his attention fastened on her with a sharp, intimate awareness. And with that single look, memories of the previous night stormed her defenses.
Unable to help herself, her gaze fastened on his hands, remembering how he’d touched her. It had been such a light, delicate touch for such long, powerful hands. And his shoulders... She’d been fascinated by the taut play of corded sinew and muscles beneath his chambray shirt. Not to mention his eyes, black and hard and glittering with passion. She could even recall his varying scents, the woodsy aroma of his cologne combined with the alluring sweetness of his breath when he’d apologized. If circumstances had been different...
Reality crashed in on her. Oh, no! This would never do. How could she have allowed herself to become so distracted? Gathering every ounce of self-control, she met his amused gaze. “Want me to call next time for a wardrobe check?” she asked, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow. “It’s so embarrassing to wear the same outfit, isn’t it?”
His mouth pulled to one side and he released a low, rumbling laugh. “Good idea. Although, I didn’t realize fairies favored black—when they chose to wear clothes, that is.”
If he thought to embarrass her, he’d soon find it took a lot more than that. Too many trips through hell’s fire spared her that ignominy. “No, it’s definitely a dragon’s color,” she replied. “If it weren’t for the eyes, you could almost pass for Nemesis.”
“Nemesis?”
“The dragon in the latest Jack Rabbitt book. Didn’t River show it to you?”
“No.”
J.J. shrugged. “It has a dragon on the cover who is, I assume, a major character in the story. I gave it to River before I had a chance to read it, but I know my sister modeled the creature after Mathias. If you’d ever met him, you’d agree it’s an uncanny resemblance. Jacq’s quite talented.”
“Blackstone as a dragon. How appropriate.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Really? I’d have said the same about you.”
“Daddy’s not a dragon,” River announced from the doorway. “He’s a real person.”
It was too good an opening to resist. “So am I, sweetheart. I’m as real as your dad.”
River nodded complacently. “Just until you turn back into a fairy.”
“Sweetheart, would you mind coloring while J.J. and I talk?” Raven interrupted. “We won’t be long.”
River’s reluctance was obvious. She ran to J.J.’s side for a quick hug. “Don’t leave,” she demanded. “Not yet.”
“I’ll stay right here. I promise.”
Apparently satisfied, River crossed to her desk and removed crayons and a pad of paper. Raven waited until his daughter became absorbed in her art project, before murmuring, “You’re not going to win with her on this fairy business. She’s got an answer for everything.”
“Thanks to my sister. According to River, book number three has Justice turning into a human for a short time.” J.J. slanted him a wry look. “Bet you didn’t know they had rules about these things.”
“No, I didn’t, though I’m learning.” He folded his arms across his chest, his droll tone a perfect match for hers. “One of these days I’m gonna thank your sister in person for inventing such an interesting storyline.”
She chuckled. “You’ll have to go through Mathias to do that. Try it and you’ll see why Jacq used him as a model for her dragon.”
“Ah, but a minute ago you were calling me a dragon.”
Raven leaned closer—far too close. Once again, it brought back memories of the night before—memories she’d just as soon suppress. Unfortunately, that option wasn’t available to her. He instantly dominated, eclipsing every other sight and sound. Unable to help herself, she gathered in his now-familiar scent—the hint of cedar with an underlining tang of spice. Finally she glanced at him, losing herself in the unrelenting blackness of his gaze.
“Do you think Mathias could stop me from getting what I wanted?” His breath fanned her lips and she drew that in as well. “Do you really think I’d allow it?”
Did she? Instinctively she sensed that a battle between the two men wouldn’t
be a pleasant occurrence. Both were powerful, both fighting for what they loved most in the world. No. She wouldn’t care to guess the potential outcome of such a confrontation. It would be far better if she found a way to ease matters out between the two of them.
She lowered her voice, hoping to keep River from overhearing their discussion. “Jacq has given your daughter nothing but pleasure. Why would you want to harm someone who’s done everything she could to bring joy into childrens’ lives?”
“She’s filled River’s head with fantasies,” came the biting retort. “Dangerous fantasies.”
“Fantasies found in books you purchased for your daughter,” J.J. couldn’t resist pointing out.
She’d hit on a sore point and his mouth compressed. “True,” he conceded. “But your sister also committed one other unforgivable sin.”
“And what is that?”
“She brought you into our lives. And you’re trouble, fairy lady. Serious trouble.”
So was he. Trouble to her peace of mind and emotional stability. His eyes caught fire, burning with an intensity she could practically feel. It splashed across her skin, burrowed deep into her pores and sizzled through her veins. He shouldn’t have this sort of effect on her. She should be immune to his type. He wasn’t safe.
Men like Raven Sierra needed total control, both in their lives and in the lives of anyone they touched. She’d lived with someone like that already—her father. As a result, she’d made up her mind long ago: The man she eventually loved would be kind and gentle and easygoing. Raven couldn’t act that way even on his best day.
Still, his allure drew her. Potent and dangerous, it tempted, speaking to her on some forbidden, primitive level. J.J. struggled to check her reaction to him. When she’d worked for her father’s PR firm, she’d dealt with any number of difficult clients. One of the reasons she’d been so successful handling them was her ability to disengage her emotions. They never touched her—not physically and never, ever emotionally. Somehow she suspected it would be far more difficult to hold Raven at a safe distance should he choose to force the issue. Look at how it had gone the night before.
The Miracle Wife (Harlequin Romance) Page 5
