“Yes, thank you.” She folded her arms to further stem the remaining chill that chased her year-round. “With opening courtesies out of the way, we need to iron out the details of your short stay.”
His lips twitched at the words, and she kind of liked how her mouth pulled into a soft smile in response.
“I’m surrounded by enough protection. I don’t need an in-house babysitter.” She would hold on to some shred of privacy.
His eyes moved over her, and her face flushed. There wasn’t anything lascivious in his expression. A sexist once-over could be dismissed. No, his look had been much more disconcerting. Thorough. Making her feel…seen.
“I’m sure we can create something workable.”
She stepped closer to the grate and held out her hands. As a kid, she’d predicted she would be a Fire. Flames soothed her, their warmth blanketing her body and soul. Right now, the heat pressing into her thighs was physical, but she had the oddest sense the warmth came from him, not the logs behind the grate. But what did she know? She’d already flubbed guessing his power.
She needed to shut down the ill-timed question of what it would feel like to be surrounded by an Alpha Fire.
“I can’t deal with this today.” She kept focus on the flames. “Bunk with the others for now, and we’ll get this worked out tomorrow.”
Flickers of sensation, like a dying lightbulb, scattered over her. As her file spelled out, and she’d been reminded for years, Passives sensed nothing, so maybe Mother Nature was messing with her and providing a lovely reminder of her incapability. She went over to him, noting his carefully stoic glare. He saw her like everyone else. Helpless. Scared. Pathetic. Given the unyielding set of his mouth, he’d deemed her vulnerable, but valuable.
Well, forget that. And forget him. It was one thing to have a living, breathing superiority complex camped outside her door. No way was she going to share her apartment with someone who saw her as inferior and kept a file filled with her damned flaws.
Aleron’s expression didn’t change, but his vibe did. “I should remind you that your safety is vital for political stability.”
Swear to the Goddess, she sensed his Fire energy grazing over her, searching for weakness.
Bring it, Fire man.
“You think I need reminding of my role as a Lennox? I’m getting married. It’s personal, and it’s private.” So what if her tone had bite? She knew there was nothing private, nothing intimate, about what was coming. Luckily, there were no clauses in the contract requiring witnesses of her wedding bed. But just as she wasn’t going to discuss her feelings about the contract, other than Section 7, with this stranger, she wasn’t about to discuss Lach’s illness with him or acknowledge the flush-turned-inferno beneath her hoodie.
“True. Marriage is personal and shouldn’t be taken lightly.” Judgment poured off of him, from his carefully blank expression to the rigid set of his shoulders. “I’ll be with you right up to the altar. The email I checked confirmed I’ll be a groomsman.”
Good Goddess, her grandfather was going to turn her wedding into the spectacle of the century.
It’s not a wedding. It’s a merger.
She gave him her evilest eye. “Don’t presume to comment on my life.”
His shoulders pulled back. “I wouldn’t dream of forgetting my place.”
She’d learned the hard way with Lach. A Fire would argue until they got the last, smokin’ word.
“Excellent. Then it’s settled. The team outside will get you set up in the adjacent apartment. They’re using it as a barracks of sorts.”
She wanted to tell him she had value other than her last name and her uterus. But that would mean she cared about his opinion. She thought of her favorite quote, Eleanor Roosevelt’s lovely mantra Lach had told her early on, and one she repeated daily.
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
And she sure as hell wasn’t consenting to Aleron Foussé.
She normally didn’t challenge Seanair, but as it appeared her grandfather had a whole squad of elite whatevers, she’d order up another one who at least had a pulse.
“This isn’t going to work. I’ll call Seanair and have you replaced.”
She hooked her gaze on his, and her breath caught. A strange attraction. Irritation. His hair, his face, his voice, his intensity. The culmination called to her, a collection of her favorite features of the men in her dreams. Except for the cold glare. She couldn’t stomach his indifference.
Her one hope with her future groom was she and Yuri would burn bright together. She’d find common ground with her Earth husband, and they’d grow to be friends, lovers, partners. Maybe they’d never be soul mates, but they could build something special.
The Fire before her took a loose strand of hair that had escaped from her barrette and tucked it behind her ear. “There is no better person to protect you than me.”
His hair was as dark as his smile. No teeth, just ego and something even darker.
A shiver ran down her body, followed by a push of the same warm energy. It was him. She should be horrified by the intimacy, offended at the bold strokes of his power, but holy shit, she felt him. The force of him. The strength. The sheer breadth of him.
And he was pure toasty bliss.
She couldn’t explain the sensation and didn’t want to analyze the feeling further. She was not, however, into self-torture. No way would she spend her last month with a big-ass reminder of all she wasn’t. She ignored the delicious swirl of heat inside her and whirled around.
“I need my phone.” She mentally retraced her steps, unable to remember where she’d likely flung it last night, but determined to find it fast.
“I’ll put my things in your spare bedroom, and we’ll get started.”
She let out a frustrated huff. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“I’ve heard them all, but in the end, this is happening, Ms. Lennox. I will protect you, and I will do it here.”
She went into the kitchen, checked the breakfast table, the countertops. Why hadn’t she picked a hot pink, blinged cell phone case? She proceeded across the hall to her bedroom, but it wasn’t in its usual spot on the side table.
His footfalls, which should have been thunderous and heavy, came up quietly behind her. She turned and saw that his irises burned a bright red. Rule number one for Naturas was to hide their power and avoid human detection. Was he trying to scare her or show off? Or was he that powerful? Or had she managed to make him lose control?
Her insides smiled at the notion of having power over him. To her irritation, he handed her the black case with her phone tucked inside.
She took it, biting back the thank-you he deserved but her piqued pride wouldn’t allow.
She should dial her grandfather.
Right. Now.
She dropped her hand to her side. Why bother? Through the years, she hadn’t changed her grandfather’s mind on much. She’d be a fool to think she could change any of this to what she wanted, what she needed.
Resigned to her mountain-guard fate, she returned to the living room, Mount Aleron in tow.
Moving to the alcove she’d turned into her home office, she steeled her resolve and faced him. “For future reference, I’m a Passive, not a pushover.”
A smile pulled across his face, hard to read. Part mocking. Part…friendly.
“Duly noted.” His eyes glowed. “There’s something else you should know.”
“What’s that?” She disregarded his intentional flex of strength as the yellow in his irises turned orange. The glow became a fierce red again, the edges a powerful Alpha blue. Not one ring, but two.
“I was assigned this job because nothing—and no one—escapes me. You can relax now and focus on your wedding. Your days of sneaking out are over.”
Elspeth closed her bedroom door, needing space between her and that infuriating…Aleron.
She glanced around at the explosion of dirty clothes across her white
carpet. White walls. White bedding. She’d even had the fireplace brick painted white. Color was provided by the view out her windows of Central Park. Green treetops. Blue sky. Puffy clouds. The people walking the sidewalks were her favorite. She liked to imagine where they were going, what plans they had, what their lives were like.
She went to her bed, sat on the end, and texted Zum.
My new guard showed. He’s an elite asshole.
A gray text bubble popped up, the dots undulating.
But is he hot?
She considered the man likely putting his things away in the guest room. In the sanctity of the only private space she had left, she’d admit he was fantastic looking. Not pretty. Not preppy. Ruggedly hot. A man with a dark gaze radiating experience, determination, and…focus.
Yes, he’s hot. He’s even got a bad-boy sexy scar.
More dots.
GUARDS. WITH. BENEFITS. Hopefully big. ☺
He’s not staying. He’s too bossy.
Is he a Fire?
Yes.
Dots.
She stood and went to one of the three bays of windows, thankful she didn’t live in one of Manhattan’s many steel-and-glass megatowers. Her eighth-floor apartment in a ten-floor building had once been a servant’s residence for the two-story penthouse Lach occupied. The sidewalks were scarce of people, the bitter cold keeping them inside. Needing to move, she paced over to the fireplace, trying to form a plan. With luck, Mr. Elite would be out the door by dinner.
Words to live by: You’ll never tire of a night with a Fire. Carpé the flames!
She shook her head, a laugh escaping. Her gaze went to the treadmill doubling as a clothes rack, and her jaw quivered. Tears brimmed. She’d agreed to marry, not have her life turned upside down by some domineering, brutish guard. None of this was funny. Reality came roaring back. Would she laugh in Russia? Would she make a friend she could crack up with like Zum? She typed a response before Zum’s friendship-distress radar went off and she FaceTimed.
No pokers. No stoking flames. You are not helping.
I am the most helpful help. Gotta run. Russians to investigate!
Goddess, her best friend had been a cyclone of energy even before she’d had power. But Zum could search all she wanted. The Russians’ treatment worked, and the deal was done.
Raised voices came from the hallway, followed by the doorbell. Several chimes. What now?
“Coming.” She opened her bedroom door and walked smack into a hot, hard wall. Thick, warm arms slid around her, steadying her.
“You got two seconds before I blow this motherfucker down,” a voice bellowed from the hallway outside her apartment.
Her hands rose to his chest. She met Aleron’s narrowed gaze and reminded herself to breathe.
“It’s my brother.” Her gaze cut to his jaw and the barest hint of stubble surrounding his scar and back to his brown, brown eyes.
“I know. I answer all doors.” His gaze hopped from her hair to her eyes to her mouth.
“Not this time. I can’t risk him getting mad.” Her pulse pounded, her body furnace hot, especially in places it shouldn’t be. She should back away. Back away now. Except he hadn’t loosened his hold.
“I’ll introduce myself.” He stepped aside, and disgust flashed across his face.
Vines of embarrassment grew, threading through her and tightening around her throat. She still hadn’t brushed her teeth. She had tumbleweed hair for sure. Why did she care?
She watched him walk away to answer Lach’s increasingly irate summons. His jeans fit him perfectly. Loose enough not to be baggy, but tight enough to highlight what lay beneath the denim was big, muscled and firm. Wide body. The kind she dreamed of covering hers.
The door opened, and she stood there, like a car-stunned squirrel.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Lennox. I’m Aleron Foussé, the new head of your sister’s detail.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let me in.”
“Hey.” She rushed up behind Aleron, placing a hand on his back and peeking around him. She looked from Lach to Aleron, the two men staring like they wanted to chicken-fry each other. “Let’s all go inside.”
Aleron made the first move, holding his glare but making space in the entryway. He assumed the same position as her regular detail. Ramrod straight. Eyes on the wall.
“I’ve missed you.” She grabbed Lach’s hand and pulled him inside. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you what’s not going on.” Lach stormed across the apartment, straight to the fireplace, bracing his hands on the mantel. “Help me with something, E. I can’t decide.” His head swiveled toward her. “Should I blow something up or rip something to shreds to cool down my pissed-off ass?”
Aleron had taken up residence at the wall near one end of the L-shaped sofa, right beside her bedroom door.
She studied her badly-in-need-of-a-pedicure toes for a second, but when she looked up, she wiped all uncertainty from her face.
“I was going to tell you about the marriage, but you haven’t answered my calls for three days.”
“Been a little busy.”
“Okay, but you can’t come in here and rage at me when I wanted to let you know before you heard through the grapevine.”
“Grapevine? I’m at a sit-down in Tribeca with the Irish, having a good ol’ time. Folks are getting along for a change since we cut them in on two building contracts. Then the head short shit pipes up to ask me why they weren’t offered first dibs on marrying you. That they’d been bypassed for the Russians, had taken offense, and will be filing a grievance with the continent council.” He folded his arms and pinned her with his brown eyes—now flecked with orange. “Of course, I had no idea what they’re talking about, but I tell myself, ‘Lach, don’t be an ass and assume your sister went behind your back. Go get the truth straight from the source and ask if she’s really hell-bent on screwing up her life.’” He plopped down on the long end of the sofa and folded his arms. “So.” He cleared his throat. “Are you really hell-bent on screwing up your life?”
He kicked off his shoes and reached toward the coffee table, pulling the crystal dish into his lap. He shoved a lemon drop into his mouth and chewed the hard candy, loud crunches splitting the quiet.
She turned to Aleron. “Can we have some privacy, please?”
“No. Sight distance at all times.” Aleron looked to Lach. “She has a sneaking-out problem.”
“I know.” Lach popped in a few more pieces. “Freddy’s. Rosewater lightning. Excellent choice, by the way.” His gaze shifted to hers. “If Zum had taken you anywhere else, she and I would be having words. Of all those crusty old Earths, Freddy’s solid. He called me before you even walked inside.”
The air thinned. Her hands shook. “You’re spying on me?”
“I am the eyes and ears of this city. Nothing happens here without me knowing about it. That’s why Seanair lets me run it. It’s his biggest pain in the ass because there are so many Naturas, and the peace holds because the people like me. Well, except for that dustup between two Air families the other night. It’s handled now.” He arched a brow. “They probably don’t like me.”
“I have guards. I don’t need you following me around or spies reporting my whereabouts.” She gripped the back of the sofa. “How could you keep tabs on me like that and not tell me?”
“Since your power-reveal party, your safety has been my top priority. You only got the basics in Natura 101. Sorry, E, but you don’t know shit about what we can really do, and if I have my way, you won’t find out.” Lach’s glare shifted behind her. “I can take a vacay now that he’s here.”
She looked over her shoulder, then back to her brother. “You know him?”
“I know every Fire of his caliber. The fact he’s here explains why Seanair’s in a dither.” A Southern twang stole into Lach’s words, which happened when he was pissed. “Now, back to the matter at hand. You know why I’m here, so out with it.”
Only a fool would try t
o bullshit her brother, so she dove straight in with the truth.
“The Russians have a promising treatment for your disease, and I’m marrying their future king to get it.” She held up a hand as the contents of the glass bowl melted into a yellow pool. “Keep a lid on it.” She widened her eyes, hoping Lach got the message to cool it in front of Aleron.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna pick a fight with your new watchdog.” Lach didn’t break his stare at her. “I’m fine. I don’t need a fucking treatment. I have it handled.”
“Lach.”
“E.”
She moved to take a seat on the floor at his socked feet.
“Yuri Burkov is the best match I could have hoped for.” She held up her hand at his deepened frown. “Seriously. No family has made an offer for me. I’d considered committing to a human nunnery.”
“Great idea.” Lach chewed what was left of his candy. “I’m fine with the convent. Then I won’t have to kill anyone for having sex with you.”
“Too late for that.”
“If you’re trying to distract me, stop. Don’t bother with excuses either. You’re not marrying that Russian.”
She looked to Aleron and wished she could burst him into flames. He had no business listening to their private conversation. Goddess, what little privacy she’d had was gone, but maybe she’d never had any. Lach had spied on her. For years. And now…now this gargantuan man she didn’t know had a prime seat to their family secret.
“If you breathe a word of what we’re talking about, you will pay for it. Dearly.” She probably shouldn’t taunt the guy, but logic had left the building the moment he’d knocked.
Aleron gave a dismissive grunt. “Discretion is part of the job.”
“Hey.” Lach’s hand covered hers. “Seanair’s elite dogs have seen it all. They know the drill. They run their mouths, they’re ash.”
A flare of discomfort pinched Lach’s expression. She gave Aleron a last glare. Screw him. If he blabbed to anyone about what he heard, she’d destroy him. How, she didn’t know, but she’d find a way.
“Do you have a headache?” She turned her fingers in Lach’s and lightly squeezed. He must be having one of his head-splitters since he was so agitated. Human medicines did little to soothe the side effects of not properly tending an element but could be a stopgap in an emergency. She’d nursed one too many torturous migraines and had spotted the dullness in his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t even tossing back an aspirin. “I’d be happy to rub your temples like I always do, but please tell me you’re not neglecting your elements again.”
The Call of Fire: A Natura Elementals Novel Page 5
