Spell of Love: Lust Upon Roses

by Alyssa Brooks

  Just once.

  Besides, a little voice in his head told him to make sure she got home safe.

  The lights inside flickered off, and the door pushed open. A flood of fully clothed strippers pored out, followed by the two built but useless bouncers. The men showed the ladies to their cars, opening the doors for each one of them. One by one they sped off, the last two cars taking the bouncers, as well.

  Edmund shook his head. The muscles on their bodies served only one purpose: show. He should have kicked some sense into the numbskulls, but he had some of his own. A man who had been king carried a certain respect for the law, which was why he’d chosen to become a lawyer this century.

  His little lady was the last to follow, not protected by anyone. The key rings on her purse jingled as she pulled the doors shut behind her and locked them.

  A surge of annoyance bolted through him and knotted in his stomach. She should be walked to her car just like the dancers. Anyone could grab her. Just look at the way she was dressed.

  He wanted to attack her himself.

  He licked his lips and watched for a moment. The way she moved fueled his desire. Her long legs stretched with each slow, confidant step. Steady, graceful, almost heavenly, despite her heels. Again, for about the tenth time tonight, his rod began to harden.

  To his confusion, she walked right past the only car left in the lot besides his. The red Corvette did seem a bit rich for someone in her position, but if she didn’t have a car, where the hell was she going?

  “Hey!” He jogged after her.

  She jumped and gasped as she turned. Her hand went to her chest. “Edmund! You scared me to death!” Then she went still, taking a slow step back. “I guess I should be scared.”

  He slowed from his jog as he approached her. “You forgot to tell me your name.”

  She swallowed, a worried look on her face. “Grace. Grace Matthews.”

  He stepped closer. His finger brushed her cheek, and she curled her face into his hand.

  “Well, Grace, please tell me you are not walking home.” He cupped her chin, wanting to kiss her cheeks. Her eyelids. Her lips.

  Hell’s mercy. Those lips.

  Need like a venomous snake twisted inside of him, and the desire to strike bit into him. All he could think about was mashing his mouth upon hers. Bending her to his will.

  He couldn’t help himself. He leaned in, his lips but a breath from hers.

  Golden daggers flashed in her eyes as she yanked away. “I’ve walked home every weekend for two years now. I’ll be fine.”

  “I didn’t stop that guy so some other one could attack you, foolish woman.” The loud anger in his voice surprised even him.

  Annoyance shot through him. These changing times weren’t always for the best. The modern world was riddled with foolish notions. Women’s equality made no sense to him and never would. A woman should be treated like the most delicate of flowers. Worshiped. Protected. No lady had the strength to protect herself from a man, and the idea was inane.

  For almost six hundred years he had adapted, changing and growing with the world. Tasting all there was, experiencing. Right now he wanted life as it was in the fifteenth century. A piece of him went back to the randy prince who always had what he wished. To the king who had but to command and it was so.

  He had never cared for being denied, but he had learned to shove aside his lust like a trained dog. After his father had died, he had learned to be a man. With each year he lived upon this earth, he became more of one.

  No man would let this woman walk in harm’s way.

  Holding her head high, she started to walk away from him. “Oh. Have you appointed yourself my protector now?”

  “Yes.” He grasped her arm. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you.”

  Grace yanked away, her brisk pace picking up. “Are you crazy?”

  “I think you’re the lunatic.” He caught her arm again and drew her to him until her face was but an inch from his. “Why are you running, Grace? Do I scare you?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. Her breath caressed his lips.

  Raising a finger, he stroked her lips. “Because I am dangerous, or because you want me?”

  She trembled under his touch. “You are dangerous because I want you. Too much.”

  Already he was close enough to kiss her, but he lowered himself to her lips slowly. He didn’t want to scare her away. “Good,” he whispered.

  His mouth melted upon hers. Grace fell into the kiss, allowing him to invade her mouth. His tongue stroked hers, his lips sucking and coaxing. Wantonness invaded her, pooling in her sex. Her nether regions tightened and began to drip. Hot need took over her, fast and hard.

  Undeniable.

  Budding, her nipples begged to be kissed. Oh, to feel his hands upon her breasts. His tongue.

  His strong arms wrapped around her, scooping her up. One hand cupped her rear, while the other held her upper back. Under attack from his lips, resisting him was futile.

  She was mush to be molded any way he pleased. No one had ever made her feel this way. Not even ...

  What the hell was she doing? She jerked her mouth free. “No.”

  Oh, her body said yes, in every way possible. But her very soul could not stand to succumb. She would not love again. Kissing him was throwing caution to the wind. It would be all too easy to want a man like him forever, and forever did not exist.

  His fingers caressed her rear. “Let me love you.”

  “No. Put me down.”

  “I can’t do that.” His voice turned unrelenting again.

  She wriggled. “I need to get home.”

  He laughed at her useless struggles. “Then I’ll take you. Where do you live?”

  He continued to stroke her, and she twisted against his grasp. “Just over the hill, ten feet past the line between rich and poor. It’s not worth the drive.”

  Once again his lips hovered over hers. “I will put you down. Once I see you home. Deal?”

  She had thought he meant to drive her. Instead, he started across the parking lot with long, stalking strides.

  Panic raced through her. What was this man thinking? He just did not give up. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. But he was going to have to.

  “You’re not coming in.” She forced her tone to be firm and strong.

  He said nothing. Made no acknowledgment of her words at all. He headed down the sidewalk. At that point, she lost her tongue. What the hell did one say about being carried down the road by the king himself? A strong, irresistible man who turned her inside out with want and wouldn’t accept anything less.

  Her pussy was thumping for him. If she didn’t make this hot craving for him go away soon, she was going to invite him in despite herself. To be this close to him tortured her.

  She looked ahead, trying to concentrate on anything besides him. Her eyes searched the shadows cast across the road, the many cracks in the sidewalks. She counted to ten over and over.

  It was much different from her normal walk home. Usually she was trying to distract herself from her fear. Not desire.

  Soon they reached her neighborhood. “Down this street.”

  Edmund followed her direction. Though in her mind the walk took forever, they were there in minutes. For a moment Edmund stood in front of her doublewide, his eyes studying it.

  The expression on his face made her wince.

  It wasn’t much to look at, but it had never embarrassed her before. She had a decent little front lawn where she planted flowers and had even built a little porch. Sure, the aluminum siding was worn, the roof weak in several spots. But she had managed it on her own since her parents died, working nights to pay the bills so she could still go to college in the day.

  Edmund sighed and shook his head. “You should have come home with me.”

  Again his fingers stroked her ass. She tried to shy away from the touch. Why did he have to keep doing that? It drove her crazy.

  Sudden, his mouth came down upon hers.
She didn’t expect it, and it took her quite by surprise. She had no time to put her guard up, no chance to steel herself against him. His lips were soft yet brutal. He kissed her so hard she tasted blood. His tongue invaded her mouth, flicking against hers. She could not help but respond.

  Everything in her turned to mush. He was the only thing there was.

  Just as suddenly as he kissed her, he broke away. He set her on her feet, turned, and walked away. She hadn’t even realized he’d carried her up the front stairs or opened the screen door.

  Reaching up, she touched her swollen lips. So much of her wanted to call out to him. To beg him to stay.

  Instead she watched him until she could see him no more.

  Chapter Three

  Staring down into her cup of black coffee, Grace thought about getting out the chocolate syrup and dumping it in by the tablespoonful, a bad habit she had not acted on in a long time.

  Resting her face on her hands, she leaned on the metal kitchen table and groaned. Geez! She needed something to perk her up.

  She swore. That damn man with his damn accent. All she’d done all night was toss and turn and think about his kisses and the way he’d carried her home. Protected her.

  Stroked her ass.

  He hadn’t just made her hot enough to burst into flames at one touch. He’d made her feel safe. Comforted. Taken care of. It had been a long time since anyone had protected her.

  Safe. She shook her head. Safe was the last thing she was around him. He was just the type of guy she needed to stay the hell away from. He was the kind she wanted.

  Standing up, she went to the fridge and grabbed the syrup. Holding it over her coffee, she let it just pour. After five years, a part of her was ready to love again. To fill the giant hole in her heart.

  But she just wasn’t ready for the hurt. She never would be.

  Watching your high school sweetheart die a slow, agonizing death could do that to you.

  Losing everyone you’ve ever loved in the world to car accidents in the short period of three years changed a girl. She had no interest in being close or getting to know anyone. She just wanted to get her degree, go to work for a good lawyer, and spend the rest of her life fighting drunk drivers.

  She sipped the rich chocolate coffee. Thank God she never had to set eyes on that guy again.

  * * * * *

  In his lifetime, he had had time to think about many things. The good. The bad. The ugly. But nothing had ever kept him up or made him more restless than Grace.

  He leaned against the ornate rail of the patio. Red and white roses curled around the metal, their thorns jabbing him. As always, he felt no physical pain. He leaned on them harder, wishing he could.

  His penthouse gave him a view of almost the whole city. The many buildings were little dots under him. It reminded him of his favorite castle in Wulfhere. It had sat atop a high hill, overlooking the kingdom and all his people.

  Ocean Valley was not his to rule. It was just another small city on the coast of California. Besides, not even Wulfhere was his to rule now. He could not have kept the throne forever.

  The world tended to notice when you never aged or died.

  He had been all too happy to pass the crown to his firstborn son. For years he had watched in the shadows as his family had ruled.

  But only he and his brothers could live forever. Even kingdoms die, and eventually Wulfhere fell to English rule.

  Never had that bothered him. Even now it didn’t, except for the fact that for the first time he wanted something he could not have. Never before had a woman’s charm overpowered him. Last night, it had taken all his willpower not to bring her home.

  Unfortunately, kidnapping was illegal.

  All night the memory of her lips had tortured him. The woman knew how to use them, that was for sure. In all these years, he hadn’t kissed a single woman who could move their mouth like she had. He didn’t even think he could take Grace sucking his cock. It would probably give him a heart attack.

  Yet he wanted her to enough that he was sure he’d lose his mind if he didn’t have her. For her, he was ready to throw caution to the wind. It didn’t matter the costs. The repercussions. He wanted to fuck Grace, and he would.

  But a woman like Grace should be wooed. Dated. She wouldn’t just fuck because someone asked her to. She couldn’t be bought.

  Somehow, though, deep down, he knew if he spent time knowing her, he would love her. He’d fall like a heavy rock into the sea.

  He wanted her body, not her soul.

  There was only one way he knew how to get it. Rane. The powerful wizard who’d cursed him.

  He had fought the idea all night. But the more he battled against it, the more reasonable it seemed to become. The wizard, too, had drunk from the cup of life. He lived forever, and so did his magic.

  From time to time, he knew his brothers called on him when they were in a pinch. He had always held steadfast against it. Magic had made a mess of his life. Magic equaled danger.

  But damn the consequences, he wanted Grace. He wanted to taste true passion again.

  Turning, he crossed the stone patio. Covered with red and white roses, not a single corner was without the lush flowers. Pausing, he fingered one of their delicate petals. Their scent perfumed the air.

  Turning the gold knob, he opened the French doors. He stepped inside his modern living space, his footsteps echoing off the black marble as he crossed to his office. This door he always kept locked. His journals were in here. Anyone who read them would know his secret ... or think him crazy. They’d also know about the wizard and his brothers. He didn’t need the help or any of his friends stumbling upon the truth.

  He pulled out the key, opened the door, and walked in. Sitting at his huge cherry desk, he fingered through the Rolodex. At the very back, he flipped through his brothers’ numbers. Once they had spread out across the world, they had made it a point to meet once a year at the main castle ruins in old Wulfhere. Even Rane came. They spent a week together, behaving like men did, and remembering the old days. The next week they flooded their mother’s home and doted on her. Then it was back to their lives.

  Rane’s number was the very last. Staring at it a moment, he fingered the crisp white card scratched with red ink. His mind played tug-of-war. Then a sudden vision of Grace’s lips flashed in his mind, interrupting the battle. Hell’s mercy, how he wanted those lips on his cock.

  He dialed the number as fast as he could.

  The phone rang and rang, well past the point where most would give up. Edmund clutched it to his ear in a tight grip. His ear began to sweat, his hand shaking.

  After about thirty times, the line rattled and ceased to ring. For a moment, everything went quiet. Then Rane’s creaky voice answered. “It’s two in the morn’.”

  “Hello, Rane. I didn’t think wizards slept.” Edmund leaned back in his chair. For a moment, a smile of victory flashed on his face.

  Never give up. Never surrender. A motto he loved.

  He could almost hear Rane’s old bones pop up across the line. “Edmund?”

  “Edmund,” he confirmed, his tone strong. He sat back up, holding his spine straight. The wizard made him nervous. What man wouldn’t put his guard up around a man of such magic?

  A sudden rush of dread flooded Edmund. Now that he had Rane on the phone, he wanted off. Hell’s mercy, he planned to make this call as quick as possible. Tell him what he wanted and hang up.

  Rane cleared his throat. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you personally.” His raspy voice started to awaken from its sleepy tone, but he still spoke with an aged quiver.

  Edmund pulled a pencil from the cup on his desk and began to tap it. “You cursed me once, Rane. When I became king, I should have let the priest burn you at the stake.”

  “What good would it had done?”

  Edmund ignored him, not caring for the fact that the one man who scared him was invincible.

  Edmund tapped his pencil harder. �
��I always knew the day would come when I would want something from you.”

  “That day has come?”

  The pencil beat on the desk so fast and hard it was but a blur. Suddenly the point broke off, flying across the room. “There is a woman. I want her. Not permanently, mind you. I want ... well you’re a man. You know what I want, and I want it tonight.”

  “You do realize I am on the other side of the world.”

  Edmund flung the pencil across the room like it was a throwing knife. It hit the door and bounced like rubber. “So? Your magic is like no other. Work it.”

  “I can cast a spell to make her want you, but ‑‑”

  “Then do it. Now.” Edmund grunted. A bad feeling had invaded him. Guilt, maybe.

  Or fear.

  He didn’t want to change his mind. But hell’s mercy, he wanted to hang up.

  A scratchy chuckle sounded across the line. “Edmund, patience is a virtue in men. After all these years, surely you have learned that.”

  Edmund drummed his fingers. “When it comes to this woman, my patience is gone. I don’t know why or what it is ... her lips, maybe. I don’t care what you do, just take care of it.”

  There was a long pause. “Then tonight, you will go to your garden. Select only the roses with raindrops and deliver them to her. One for each night you want. But be ‑‑”

  Edmund raised his brows. He liked the sound of that. “I can select how many nights I want?”

  “Yes. But ‑‑”

  “Thanks, Rane. See you in July.” Edmund clicked the phone down. Hell’s mercy. He was glad to be off there.

  * * * * *

  Rane shook his head slowly, yet still the bones in his neck creaked like a door never oiled. Using his cane, he pulled himself out of the featherbed that threatened to swallow him. Grasping the knotted, carved staff, he moseyed over to where his spell book lay on the tall oak stand. His limp was getting worse. Perhaps he should move to America with Edmund. The damp weather of England was seeping into his bones and aging him, despite the spell. He might never die, but he would surely ache.