by Aubrey Ross
“It’s not what you think.” His gaze bore into hers as Chelsea did her best not to laugh. He looked like a Chippendale dancer crossed with Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz! He turned around and revealed the cause of his outburst. The metal zipper was caught firmly in the skin at the small of his back, creating a nasty gash.
“That looks terrible.” She rushed closer.
“It feels just as delightful as it looks. Can you get it untangled?”
She knelt behind him and examined the wound. “Fast or slow?”
“Fast. It stings like hell. Just get it over with.”
“Okay.” She held the material straight with one hand and grasped the zipper with the other. “One. Two.” She jerked the zipper down before she said three. He gasped and arched, but his back was free of the metal teeth.
“Dirty trick, Miss…”
He waited for her to supply her name. She took a packet of tissues out of her purse and pressed one against his back. “First of all, this is a jumper. It’s meant to be worn over a shirt. Secondly, I didn’t realize they use metal zippers anymore. And thirdly…”
He turned to face her and Chelsea forgot her last point. His dark blue eyes stared down into hers. “Thank you.”
She knelt in front of him. One hand pressed the tissue against his back, the other rested on his thigh for balance, and her face was mere inches from his -- skirt! Unable to restrain it any longer, Chelsea laughed. “What’s with the costume? This is a costume, isn’t it?”
He trailed his index finger along her cheek, his gaze intent upon her face. “Crossdressing is definitely not my style.”
“All right, you two. This is not that kind of shop!” Marissa sounded more amused than annoyed.
The blond man chuckled and Chelsea jumped to her feet so fast her head hit his chin. He grunted. “I don’t know which god I pissed off, but someone is out to get me today.” He rubbed his chin dramatically, but laughter sparkled in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Chelsea backed out of the dressing room, her face burning with embarrassment.
“Relax. I was kidding.” Marissa turned to the man, her animated features falling into a stern mask. “If you got blood on that dress, you just bought it. You know all these garments are vintage. I told you this was a ridiculous idea.”
“You’re the epitome of compassion,” he grumbled and closed the curtain. Marissa chuckled and returned to her station behind the jewelry counter.
“Professor Lamar?”
As if the afternoon weren’t strange enough, Chelsea turned to find Aurora Burton standing behind her. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” She punctuated the sentence with a playful smile.
“I had no idea you knew about Chimera. Do you come here often?”
“This is my first visit. How did you find out about Chimera?” Chelsea paused. Yamir said one of her students nominated her for consideration. Was Aurora responsible for her good fortune? She’d never done anything special for Aurora, didn’t really know her well.
The curtain swung open and the blond Adonis emerged wearing jeans and a tee shirt. “I couldn’t help overhearing. Are you Aurora’s history teacher?”
“Professor, Ray, she’s a professor.”
He extended his hand toward Chelsea and flashed a knee-melting smile. “Ray Burton. I’m one of Aurora’s brothers. She speaks highly of you.”
“Chelsea Lamar.” His warm fingers closed around hers, sending tingles up her arm. Disturbed by her body’s reaction to his casual touch, she slipped her hand out of his grasp and took a step back. “I must admit I like this outfit better.” He laughed.
Aurora’s eyes widened and she looked from Ray to Chelsea and back at her brother. “You didn’t.”
“I told you I would.”
Aurora gasped. “And I told you I wouldn’t.”
“Then you know I will.”
Chelsea stepped between them. “What are you talking about?” Please God, let this explain why he was wearing a dress!
Chapter Two
Ray couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Except for the stinging gouge in his back, his sister’s harebrained scheme was working perfectly. Chelsea was even more evocative in person than she’d been through his telepathic link. From her sea-green eyes to her utterly kissable lips to her dainty toes, everything about Chelsea appealed to him.
“There’s a box lunch social tomorrow and Ray thinks I should participate.” Aurora’s petulant tone shocked him. Was that really his easygoing sister sneering like a prima donna?
“What’s a box lunch social?”
Aurora huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “An archaic, sexist custom that dates back to --”
“It’s for charity!” He didn’t want to overdo it, but Aurora’s spoiled rich girl act made him want to shake her. Turning to Chelsea, he explained, “Each participant prepares a boxed lunch and the boxes are auctioned off. The owner of the box shares the lunch with whoever bids the highest. It’s harmless and the proceeds go to charity.”
“I will not make a public spectacle of myself.”
“Then it’s a good thing the dress fit, because our family is going to be represented one way or another.”
“I’ll make a donation to the charity,” Aurora snapped. “But why do I have to --”
“You don’t. I’m going to do it.” Ray reached back into the fitting room for the dress. “I didn’t think a couple hours out of your busy schedule was too much to ask. Obviously, I was wrong. You go work on your tan and I’ll participate in the box social.”
He glanced at Chelsea, gauging her reaction to the exchange. An attractive flush still colored her cheeks and she watched them intently. “Thank you for rescuing me from the flesh-eating zipper.”
She inclined her head. “You’re welcome.”
He turned toward the counter where Marissa waited to ring up his purchase.
“You can’t mean to go through with this.”
A soft gasp followed Aurora’s outburst and warm fingers closed around his upper arm. “That flesh-eating zipper was hungrier than I realized.” Chelsea’s voice was hushed with concern. “You’re bleeding through your shirt.”
“There are first aid kits in the bungalows, unless he needs stitches,” Marissa said with a knowing look.
“Aurora, pay for my dress.” Tossing her the garment, he headed for the door. Chelsea fell into step behind him as he fought back a smile. Marissa had reluctantly agreed to help them set up this little drama, but the ornery Fairy hadn’t needed to make the wound so convincing.
“Where’s your bungalow?” Chelsea asked.
“Up the road toward the Visitor’s Center. That red Vespa is mine.” He motioned toward one of the scooters.
“My bungalow is closer. Besides, you can’t bandage your own back. I can’t believe that zipper did this much damage.” Her gaze narrowed for a second, then she glanced away. “Unless your wife is --”
“I’m not married, and I’d love to play doctor with you.” He wiggled his eyebrows and she smiled. Lifting the seat of his scooter, he pulled out a helmet and handed it to her. “Come on. There’s room for both of us.”
“Only if I want blood all over my clothes.” She took the helmet, but didn’t put it on.
“Then ride in front. I’ll even let you drive.”
“I’ve never been on one of these things.”
He put on his helmet and winked at her. “There’s nothing to it.” She hesitated a moment longer, then put on her helmet and climbed on board. He got on behind her and guided her hands to the controls. “Twist this one to go. The brakes work just like a bicycle. Like I said, nothing to it.” He triggered the electronic ignition and wrapped his arm around her waist. As she gradually accelerated, the stand folded automatically.
Her purse wedged between them, keeping his chest away from her back, but his thighs framed her hips and her bottom nestled nicely against his groin. His injury was all but forgotten as he splayed his fingers against her ri
bs and inhaled her subtle scent.
She’s the one, Delano, and I’m going to prove it, with or without your cooperation.
“Are you okay?” Her voice barely reached him over the engine’s hum.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?” “You’re crushing my ribs.” He loosened his hold. “Sorry. Your purse isn’t leaving me much room.” “I should have stowed it. We’re almost there. I think my ribs will survive.” She parked in front of a bungalow nearly identical to his. He pulled off his helmet and winced as the movement stretched his back. Chelsea raised the seat and they put the helmets away. “Take off your shirt and I’ll grab the first aid kit.”
He followed her into the bungalow, but turned toward the kitchen as she headed for the bathroom. Tugging his shirt off over his head, he went to the sink and ran cold water over the surprisingly large stain.
Chelsea tossed her purse on the bed and rushed into the master bathroom. Her legs trembled and a giggle threatened her composure. She never giggled! During her years at Whitmore, she’d averted hecklers, had irate parents shout in her face, and avoided amorous advances from colleagues and even an occasional student. Through it all she’d remained calm and in control.
Yet when Ray wrapped his arm around her, heat spiraled through her entire body, sped her heart, and hardened her nipples. What the hell was going on? Was there something in the air? Some exotic aphrodisiac?
Her breasts ached and her nipples created distinct peaks in the fabric of her tank top. “This is ridiculous,” she whispered to her reflection. “He’s just a man.”
She lifted the first aid kit from its bracket on the wall and fortified herself against his appeal. So, he has a devastating smile. Be ready for it. Walking out of the bathroom, she continued her silent pep talk. His hair is longer than yours and his…
Her thoughts disintegrated like cotton candy in the rain as she rounded the corner and saw him standing at the sink. Wavy blond hair just reached his broad shoulders. His torso narrowed dramatically, drawing attention to his lean hips and the tightest butt Chelsea had ever seen. The urge to take both cheeks in her hands and squeeze nearly overwhelmed her.
Dragging her gaze away from his spectacular ass, she focused on his wound. Blood still oozed from the gash, staining the waistband of his jeans. She cleared her throat and strode across the small kitchen, placing the first aid kit on the table. “You’re a mess.”
He shut off the water and turned around. “I’ve lost so much blood I feel faint.” He staggered to the table, looking anything but helpless. Straddling one of the chairs, he folded his arms on the wooden back and gazed into her eyes. “I’m entirely at your mercy.”
A tingle coursed down her spine. Dang it, she was supposed to be ready for his subtle attacks, insulated against his charm. She opened the kit and found several packets of sterile gauze. Without distilled water the sterile part was moot, but it was better than tissue.
Wetting the gauze from the faucet, she returned to her patient. “Is your entire family here or is it just you and Aurora?” She did her best to concentrate on her task, but his back was sculpted with muscular definition, begging to be explored.
“Our mother lives in Ireland. Our father passed away years ago. Delano and Evette will be here this evening. Aurora and I have a previous engagement or I’d introduce you to everyone.”
“Delano and Evette are your siblings?”
“Yes. Fraternal twins are common in our family. Delano is my twin and Evette is Aurora’s.”
Chelsea set the gauze aside and reached for a tube of antiseptic ointment. “Did your mother have trouble conceiving?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Multiple births are often the result of fertility treatments.”
He shook his head. “We’re just genetically predisposed. My mother was a twin, as was my father. And there are three sets of siblings, not two. Samuel and Thane are still in Virginia.”
Chelsea covered the wound with a clean square of gauze and taped it to his back. His body heat seeped through the tape and made her fingertips tingle. “Your mother had three sets of fraternal twins? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
He stood, pushed his chair under the table, and faced her. The air sizzled with sexual awareness. “I’m not a geneticist.” His gaze caressed her face. “I’m just a man.”
She swallowed hard. Hadn’t she just tried to convince herself of that? Just a gorgeous, incredibly sexy man.
He didn’t move.
Chelsea couldn’t breathe. She had to touch him, had to know the texture of his sun-bronzed skin. Stepping closer, she placed her hand on the center of his chest. His heartbeat thumped against her palm. He parted his lips and narrowed his eyes, challenging her, beckoning her.
She licked her lips, helpless to resist his silent invitation. As if drawn by a gravitational field, she found herself pressed against him, her hands massaging his shoulders and neck. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“You’re touching me.” His arms still hung at his sides.
“Do you feel it too?”
He leaned down, his lips hovering over hers. “Oh, yes.”
Time spun on without them. Her breath came in gentle pants that rubbed her nipples against his chest. “Kiss me.” Uncertainty made her voice catch.
“You’re not ready yet.” His warm breath teased her lips, his gaze filled with regret, then he turned and left the bungalow.
* * *
Anxiety, excitement, and frustration bombarded Delano. Ray’s thoughts and impressions often seemed chaotic during the transition. In a matter of moments, Delano’s consciousness absorbed everything his twin had experienced during the previous day.
One image eclipsed all the others. One thought surmounted the rest. She’s the one! Golden brown hair framed a delicate heart-shaped face. Flirty bangs drew attention to the desire smoldering in her gray-green eyes. Chelsea. Her name was Chelsea.
“What do you mean, she’s the one?” His body separated from Ray’s with more impact than usual. They only had an hour apart before Delano’s body would absorb Ray’s.
“You may be content as a recluse, but I don’t want to live my life that way.” Ray stared at him, conviction clear in his expression, his stance.
As the fog cleared from his mind, Delano looked around. “Where are we? Who is Chelsea? What the hell is going on?”
Someone knocked on the door. Delano didn’t bother to cross the bedroom. Wherever Ray went, Aurora was sure to follow. Ray opened the door and Evette rushed in, her green eyes blazing. “I knew nothing about this, Delano! I can’t believe --”
Aurora’s indignant gasp preceded her dramatic entrance. “How can you claim innocence? Bianca is your best friend!”
Delano shook his head and closed his eyes. The last thing he needed right now was Aurora’s theatrics. “We’re on Chimera, I take it?” Opening his eyes, he looked to Evette for the answer. Calm, logical Evette would explain without elaboration.
“Yes, we’re on Chimera.”
“What does Bianca have to do with our location?”
Tucking a strand of mahogany hair behind her ear, Evette said, “I met her at The Carousel.”
The Carousel was an exclusive nightclub, a haven for the otherworldly -- rather like Chimera. “And?”
“And she told me she met her husband through the Agency of Extraordinary Mates. It all sounded rather silly, like one of those Internet dating services. Then she introduced me to Yamir. He’s wonderful.”
“I’m thrilled for Yamir and Bianca. What does this have to do with our being here?” Delano glanced from Aurora’s guilty gaze to Ray’s mutinous expression and had his answer. “No! Absolutely not. I will not --”
Ray stepped forward. “It’s already begun. I made first contact.”
With an infuriated roar, Delano slammed Ray against the wall. “You had no right to do this to me!”
“You’ve left me no choice!” Ray glared directly into his eyes, but made no move to resist
his hold. “You’re the dominant twin. It was your responsibility to find us --” Delano raised his hand. Ray shut his mouth.
Teeth clenched, Delano lowered his hand. Each angry breath filled his head with a unique, sweet scent. He leaned closer, inhaled deeply, and let the image form within his mind. “Chelsea.”
“You don’t know how badly I wanted to touch her, but I didn’t. You’re the one who should initiate the bond.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” He shoved off and backed away. The urge to pummel his twin was just too tempting. “Did it ever occur to you to ask me before you made the reservations?”
Ray stepped away from the wall and straightened his shirt. “Go see her. Just say hello and…”
“And what?”
“If you feel what I feel, let’s conduct a Discernment.”
He glowered all over again. “My Discernments are unreliable. Why would you even ask --”
“Your last Discernment predicted exactly what happened,” Evette reminded him. “Thane wouldn’t listen to you.”
Delano crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at each of his siblings in turn. Evette was siding with them. That had never happened before. “If I go, I go alone. Chelsea will have no idea who I am. I want nothing to influence her reaction.”
Chapter Three
Chelsea spread the damp tee shirt over the porch railing as she watched the rippling ocean gradually swallow the sun. Sun. She chuckled. With all the excitement surrounding Ray, she’d forgotten to buy sunscreen.
Her finger brushed the damp material lightly. Why hadn’t he kissed her? She’d never asked a man to kiss her before, could hardly believe those words had come from her mouth. And he had the audacity to refuse.
