“Hey, back off, Jolly Green, before I grab the weed killer in the garage and squirt you out of existence.” Anger deepened the colour of her eyes until Reece almost felt the familiar green of the forest surrounding him. He forced himself to blink and break the unusual connection between them.
Understanding her fear and hesitation in answering his questions, he made sure to step away from her and get his choppy breathing under control. “I apologise. A mate is something precious and very, very rare in my world. Something I’d never expected to be blessed with. To find that the one woman in this entire existence meant for me is out there somewhere without my protection is making me slightly unhinged.”
“Well, damn, Gumby, you make it hard for a girl to stay mad at you.” The woman sighed long and unhappily. “Ya talk so sweet an’ everythang.” The words were drawled out in a deeply disturbing fake Southern accent as she batted her long lashes at him with mock admiration.
Pinching the bridge of his nose to prevent any more random acts of vengeance he wouldn’t regret, Reece waited for the female… Why didn’t he know the woman’s name? “What is your name?”
She blinked suddenly wide, innocent green eyes up at him. Thick, black lashes batted lazily to emphasise the blameless mask she slipped on so easily.
“Oh, Reece, honey…” She reached out and put a soft palm over his heart. The simple touch had his body jerking, his lungs stuttering and his cock throbbing for attention. He prayed to whatever deity was listening to let his suspicions go unanswered. “Just last night you called me honey, your little birch of love, the crab apple of your eye and the hawthorn of your heart.” Blink, blink, blink went those deceptive lashes. “Are you telling me, after everything we shared, everything we said and did to and for each other, you don’t remember me? You don’t remember the woman you pledged your immortal life and Guardian’s honour to? You said dryad only formed heart unions once, but I guess you were lying to me all along. And here I thought I really was your mate and we’d go to your forest to live in your tree happily ever after.” She dropped her eyes and her next words came out hesitant and unsure. “You did say Mama, Maw-maw and Great Uncle Cletus and his camel were welcome to live with us permanently. I guess you are like every other man, immortal Guardian or not. Only after one thing, and when you get it, you’re out the door faster than you can say ‘shotgun wedding’.”
A few more sniffs followed while Reece tried to untwist the maze of his mind. He didn’t believe a word out of this con artist’s mouth, though he liked the flair of drama at the end. Then everything—everything—she’d said sank into his tree sap-soaked brain.
“Oh, great mother ocean, you’re my fucking mate?”
Most women might feel a twinge or two of guilt for the way Reece had lost most of the colour in his face. Quinn wasn’t like most women. Guilt didn’t bother her in the least, not in this situation and certainly not with this man. The quiet life she’d known had disappeared quicker than a puff of smoke—lost in the maelstrom of Reece, magical trees and his addictive orgasms.
Before last night and the handy dandy dryad magic, Quinn had been happy enough with her small existence on the planet. As the president, CEO and only employee of her own company, she had little to complain about. Life was all about what you made of it, and she liked to think she’d made the best out of the crappy start she’d had.
The only child of two immature, drug-addicted teenagers, Quinn had learnt early in life to watch out for number one and that everyone had a price. The two lessons had served her well over the years, even if they’d left her lonely.
“Female!” Two tanned fingers snapped close to her face, jolting Quinn out of her pity party. “Focus, please.”
Scowling at the huge, muscle-heavy male, she crossed her arms and glared at him. “Do that again and you’ll be pulling back a stub.” This man had no reason to be pissed off at her. Hadn’t she been the one to clean up his messes all night long? Put up with his hideous, ear-bleeding screeching he called singing? And who had put his wobbling drunk ass to bed, in her bed and left him to sleep alone even after he’d called her his mate and promised to love her forever?
A medal should be in her future for not smothering him in his sleep, if it were even possible to suffocate an immortal. Something else Quinn needed to find out for tentative future plans.
“You’re the damnedest female I’ve ever met. Fate must be laughing at me, though I can’t imagine what I’ve done to deserve this severe a punishment.”
His words sent shards of pain straight to her heart. Why his opinion would even matter in the scheme of things she didn’t know. So he’d given her a few spine-tingling orgasms. There had to be other men on the planet capable of the same thing, right? “You’re really one to talk,” she shot back, keeping her internal dialogue to herself. “I thought the myth of men rolling over to sleep was just that—a myth. Boy howdy, are you living proof all rumours have a basis in truth.”
Instead of replying, the sexy immortal Guardian tilted his head down and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Female, are you deliberately trying to cause my head to explode?” he finally questioned as his head came up, blue eyes blazing in an inhuman manner. Just what she needed—more proof that her lover from last night was something other.
Lifting her shoulder in a casual shrug she was far from feeling, Quinn contemplated the mature path in front of her then mentally turned in the other direction. “Not deliberately.” She shot him a smug smile. “However, I’m not going to complain if that’s a side benefit.” No one had ever accused her of being mature anyway. It’s not like she had any more to lose. “And my name’s not ‘female’, by the way.”
She refused to be hurt by his callous indifference. So what if he hadn’t asked her name before he’d dived between her thighs and given her the most intense orgasm of her life?
Squinting up from his position on the bed, Reece looked so good she wanted to eat him with a spoon and maybe some caramel sauce. Good manners dictated she return the amazing favour, right? What power he had over her, she didn’t know, but ever since last night Reece had occupied her mind far more than any of her previous lovers. Not that there was a huge number of exes, great or otherwise, in her life. Selective was one word to describe her social life.
If she hadn’t been getting her jollies torturing him, Quinn might have questioned his use of magic, but he’d explained everything in plain detail after he’d woken up the first time, before the run-in with the compost heap. She had better things to do with her time than think about a man who may or may not be two berries short of a mulberry tree.
She’d rather be shot naked in front of Nordstrom’s than confess their rather personal get-to-know-you session. Somehow Quinn knew the Guardian would take a more serious view of their intimate interactions than she did.
She spent all her time, when not thinking of Reece, trying to convince her heart and brain he was nothing special. Her brain agreed, her libido mocked her, and her heart refused to comment.
“Female, you will answer me.”
The sole object of her anger, speculation and horny obsession stood in front of her, a frown on his handsome face while her eyes helplessly drifted to his happy-to-see-her groin. Feeling her resolve weaken, Quinn bit down on her lip and forced her gaze away from her new favourite treat.
She could happily spend the rest of the day finding out just how many licks it took to get to the centre of Reece’s personal Tootsie Pop.
“Huh?” Oh yeah, she was waving her champion of wits badge around him. What made her sound like an uneducated idiot any time she opened her mouth with this guy? Besides his ability to turn her knees into jelly any time they were in the same room with each other…
“Your name, if you please. Then you may feel free to stare at my cock more. I’ll even allow you to stroke it and maybe even take it in your mouth.” The offer came out of his mouth so seriously and with only a h
int of condescension.
“Umm, somehow I’ll find the will to resist, but to answer your rather rude and very late in coming question, you may call me Quinn.” She’d debated giving him a fake name, but settled on offering her first name only. The less this man knew about her, the better they’d both be when this thing ended. Oh, she knew he thought she was this mate person, but, aside from mind-bending orgasms, she didn’t see it happening.
Quinn wasn’t the type of woman these things happened to. Steady, slow and methodical pretty much summed up her life. She had no psychic powers that made her stand out from any other human female. Plus she knew without a doubt who both her parents were—no secret fae daddy for her, or mysterious powers on full moons thanks to an unknown shifter parent.
Going by outward appearances alone wouldn’t put Quinn up for mate potential, either. Plain and boring were her personal calling cards, and she didn’t shy away from the words or description. Some women had to be the wallflowers of the world. While she knew she wasn’t dog food material by any means, her face and body didn’t inspire odes to her beauty. Weren’t those traits requirements by Hollywood standards?
“Quinn, I am Reece Ta’De—”
She stopped him before he could get going, having learnt the error of not doing so the second time he’d woken up. “Hey, I get it. You’re Reece and I’m Quinn. Let’s keep it simple and forget the titles and formalities.”
If possible, his back stiffened even more. “Those are not courtesy titles, woman. I’ve earned every one of my rewards and the respect my titles accord me.”
Could his tone possibly get any snottier?
“Hey”—she held a hand up to stop the tirade—“I’m not knocking your grand place in history and all that. We tried having me pronounce your very elevated and highly placed proper name. It didn’t work out. Mostly I sounded like a drunken Irishman after a few pints. Not really pretty or flattering.” She shook her head sadly while keeping her smile to herself. Yes, they had tried the weird-sounding words out, but before too long Reece had had her in his arms, naked, and they’d both forgotten about anything except each other.
“Great—not only are you mortal, you also lack the intelligence to learn a new language.” His words should have insulted her and they did in some vague, weird way.
However, the more he spoke, the more Quinn felt like she was speaking and seeing a stranger—certainly not the man she’d spent last night and most of this morning with. If he had an evil twin then the answer would be obvious, but last night—when he’d been more open and hadn’t had the stick lubed and shoved up his ass—Reece had openly discussed his life and lack of family.
“Hey, feel free to take off any time, your royal pain in the ass. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” She was tired from lack of sleep, but her irritation was mostly because she missed the Reece from last night and felt his absence deeply, even as she cursed herself for reacting in the first place. Hadn’t she just lectured herself on the dangers of believing the whole fated mate crap? The logic didn’t follow that she would be his one and only snuggle bunny.
Remember that, she silently urged herself, while desperately trying to stand strong against his appeal.
Looking surprised by her callous words, he raised his dark eyebrows. “You’re telling me to leave?”
Had no one offered to shove him out of the door before? “I’m showing you the door. Take it or leave it, but get the hell off me.” Knowing she’d blurt out things best kept silent, Quinn turned on her heel but paused before she walked out of the door. “I’m taking a shower,” she informed him. “When I get out, I expect the trees to be gone and everything to go back to normal. And I won’t be hurt in the least if you’re gone, too.”
With her parting words lingering in the air, Quinn sent a jaunty wave over her shoulder and walked away, praying he’d be gone by the time she came out…and also that he’d stick around.
Who said she had to make up her mind?
Chapter Three
Cursing under his breath as he ripped the sheet off the bed, Reece rose and stomped his way to the door his mate had disappeared through. Nothing could be dealt with until the pounding in his head had disappeared. The only way for that to happen would be for him to spend time with his tree or—he shuddered—human medicine.
Hoping no one in his colony would find how low he’d sunk, Reece grabbed a likely-looking red and white bottle of painkillers and tossed four of the little white pills down his throat. Never having used modern medicine, he wondered how long it would take the small discs to work. According to the commercials he’d glimpsed, he should be cured and happy for no particular reason within thirty seconds.
Not wanting to chance his future physical wellbeing to only a human solution, Reece wandered the large, open-floored house looking for a second bathroom. Hot water would go a long way to curing at least the road kill feeling currently plaguing him, not to mention ridding him of the two-week-old dead fish smell that seemed to cling to him everywhere.
“Clean towels are on the counter, a new razor, toothbrush and toothpaste next to it. Clean up if you want, then feel free to haul ass out of my home.”
Jerking around, a move he immediately regretted when the brass band struck up another chorus in his head, Reece spotted Quinn standing by the kitchen door, tightly gripping a coffee cup. He pressed one hand against the thumping in his head while the other one was braced flat against the wall, and he waited a few moments for his stomach to resettle back into proper position.
“Are you determined to kill me or just torture me slowly?” The words came out of his mouth with no thought or any type of censoring. What had happened to the romantic male he used to be? To the words, phrases and lines of poetry he’d read and memorised in the event he was ever blessed with a mate? Wooing his female to his side was the sole reason for his existence—the reason he’d been born—to love and cherish only this woman, his Quinn. Somehow he’d failed from the moment of their first meeting.
Instead, he found himself sounding and acting more and more like his father—rigid, unbending and positive in the belief dryads were superior to all other immortals. Mortals never even blipped on his radar, they were so far beneath his notice. His sire would be horrified to learn that his son’s intended soulmate was not only mortal, but also a plainspoken, non-fae-looking, independent woman who pretty much wanted nothing to do with him.
Yeah, he guessed if you did manage to live long enough you would see everything at least once. He’d certainly never expected to see a mortal female as his mate.
“Torturing you slowly is more fun than killing you quickly,” Quinn piped up before lifting the cup to her lips for a slow slip.
Just watching her lips wrap around the rim had his cock hardening and aching to experience that touch around his cock. Biting his lip before he could blurt out the thoughts currently zipping through his brain, Reece swallowed back a groan. “You could give the CIA tips on how to torture a man,” he ended up saying instead.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She winked at him before turning away again.
Something about the way she kept turning from him, always walking away, left a sour feeling in his stomach that didn’t help the headache still pounding away behind his eyes.
Choosing to first rid the dead animal scent from his overripe body and mouth, Reece headed to the bathroom and a very cold shower.
* * * *
Ten minutes later, Reece thought he might survive as the pills finally kicked in. No longer tasting dead skunks in his mouth, he almost whistled as he made his way back to the kitchen.
The smell of fresh coffee, bacon and eggs teased his nose while his stomach rumbled in complaint. “Something smells delicious.”
Not bothering to turn from the silver, gas-topped stove where she held a wide spatula in one hand, she waved a hand in the direction of the table. “You’re still here? Then make yourself useful and set the table.”
“Of course,”
he complied and grabbed plates, silverware and glasses for juice. Before long, the food was ready and they sat at the table each concentrating on their meal instead of talking.
Having cleared his plate, he leant back in the softly padded chair and folded his hands over his full stomach. “That was truly delicious, Quinn. You have a talented hand in the kitchen.”
Leaning back with another cup of coffee in her hand, Quinn gave him a modest shrug. “You get tired of eating out, then you’d better hire a housekeeper or learn your way around the kitchen.”
“And paying someone didn’t work for you?”
Pale green eyes peered at him over the rim, narrowing slightly before she spoke. “Not here enough to justify hiring a housekeeper. Besides, I like my privacy and enjoy not answering to anyone.”
“Independent, smart and sexy.” The words easily slid out of his mouth. “What man could resist such perfection?”
Lifting one eyebrow in a way he was learning to hate, Quinn cast him a mildly scathing glance. “Since you’ve pretty much rejected me and I’ve got a few choice names to call you, I say we skip this conversation and move on to the ‘goodbye, have a nice life’ part.”
“Would it help if I said I was sorry?” The words were unfamiliar on his tongue, but he hoped she’d hear the sincerity in his voice.
“Maybe, but it doesn’t change anything unless you pull the two by four out of your ass as well.”
Knowing he deserved the slam, Reece kept his mouth shut. Hadn’t he thought the same thing? “Stick is removed permanently, Quinn, and you have my permission to beat me over the head with it if it ever appears again.”
The Dryad in Her Pool Page 3
