“Don’t go,” he pleaded.
A forced smile curved her lips, and she held up her hand. The wraith’s mark had faded completely. “I’m not your responsibility anymore.”
“It was never like that,” he argued, feeling her slipping away from him even though he could almost touch her. The cat pushed at his skin, wanting out, wanting to keep her. They belonged together no matter what he had let the Fae trick him into agreeing to. To lose her now… “Stay with me.” The words clawed at his heart.
“I’m sorry.” A tear tracked down her cheek, but instead of reaching for him, she took Dolan’s outstretched hand, and they vanished.
—
One month later
Kennedy didn’t move when she heard the footsteps behind her. She’d run the scenario through her head a thousand times, tried to imagine how she’d feel, what she’d say. None of that factored into the sheer strength of the awareness that caught her hard in the chest.
She ran her hand across the front of the bottles lined up behind the counter. Taking a breath, she dared a glance in the mirror behind the bar, surprised to find only empty chairs and tables reflecting back at her.
Kennedy whirled around, sweeping her gaze across the empty room.
“Looking for me?”
Her heart kicked against her ribs, and she slowly turned to find Tristan standing a foot away from her. “I forgot how quiet you are.”
Rough around the edges didn’t come close to describing the untamed vibe he was giving off. Judging by the state of his rumpled clothes, he’d probably slept in them. He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, and his eyes were a little bloodshot.
She spied the open bottle of Jack Daniels and the solitary shot glass sitting next to it at the end of the bar.
He circled around her, his gaze assessing. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you have an opening for a bartender.” Although the layer of dust on the counter and closest tables suggested Pendragon’s had been closed for a while.
“Did you?” Tristan stepped up directly behind her, his question whispered against her ear.
Her belly tightened, and she closed her eyes, unprepared for the onslaught of need that heated her blood.
“I thought you chose Dolan? Wasn’t that part of your bargain?”
She swallowed. “I agreed to give him a week. He failed to mention that time passes more slowly on Avalon. Had I realized…” She turned her head, bit down on a whimper when she grazed his jaw.
“You would have what? Agreed to spend more time with him?”
“I had a lot to learn.”
“And exactly what did Dolan teach you?”
She frowned at the bitterness in Tristan’s voice. “You’re jealous?”
He growled, and she turned to face him. She parted her lips, but the opportunity to speak was lost to the sweet slide of Tristan’s mouth. His strong arms clamped around her, his hold as possessive as it was arousing.
Testing him, she resisted his grip, nipping hard at his bottom lip.
Satisfaction flashed in his eyes, and he backed her up, trapping her against the counter. Bottles clinked together and a few glasses left on the lower ledge fell over, smashing at their feet.
Neither of them looked away from each other. He threaded the ends of her hair between his fingers, his teeth grazing her jaw before he slanted his mouth over hers. She moaned this time, sinking hot and fast into the kiss.
He didn’t protest when she snagged the front of his shirt and hauled him closer. Close enough she could feel the strength in his chest, the pounding of his heart under her palm, the way his breath hitched when she pushed her tongue between his lips and swept inside.
Tristan groaned, his hold on her tightening. She quickly lost track of everything unresolved between them, so caught up in the kiss rapidly slipping out of control. Each hungry slide of his lips, every silky sweep of his tongue, worked her over and inside out. If craving his touch had nearly crippled her before, now it threatened to destroy her completely.
“Touch me,” she pleaded, slipping her hands under his shirt.
“And what would Dolan think about that?”
She smiled against his mouth. “If you’re so hung up on him, I could call him for you.”
His eyes flashed murderously, and she realized he didn’t know.
“Tristan, Dolan is my brother.”
He went perfectly still. “Your what?”
Kennedy grinned. “My brother. He says ‘hi’ by the way.”
He growled, and she laughed.
“Yeah, that’s what he thought you’d say.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” He glanced around the room, as if eager for Dolan to put in an appearance.
She winced. “He’s sorry about that, actually, making you think my survival hinged on you giving me up.” She grabbed his hand when he looked ready to hunt her brother down. “Really,” she added, stretching the truth a bit. Tristan didn’t need to know her brother hadn’t minded misleading him at all.
Sensing the truth, he scowled. “I’ll bet.” He cupped her face, sweeping his thumb across her cheek. “No more disappearing like that on me.”
She cocked her head. “Is that an order, cat?”
He rolled his eyes. “Your brother is already influencing you, I see.”
Crossing her arms, she prompted, “You didn’t answer the question.”
“I’m not looking for a slave, Kennedy. I don’t think of my mate as any less than my equal.”
“Am I? Your mate,” she clarified when his brows snapped together.
Exasperation darkened his face. “What the hell has Dolan been telling you?”
“Nothing you haven’t pointed out on more than one occasion.” She glanced at the floor, telling herself she’d known it would all come down to this. The time spent in Avalon, the warnings from Dolan, none of it made the apprehension gnawing at her stomach any easier to deal with.
“You don’t trust the Fae,” she said simply. She held out her arms. “How can you handle having one for a mate?”
Relief eased his handsome face. “Fae or not, I never would have let you go if I’d thought I had a choice.” He brushed his thumb across the healed mark of her claiming she still felt all the way to the bone. “I want to build a life together, if you’ll have me.”
She knew enough to recognize it was the closest the predator in him could come to asking her to stay with him. He might not have given her any warning before claiming her initially, but the worry she glimpsed in his eyes now proved he hadn’t assumed he was the only one with a say about their future.
Smiling, she struggled not to throw her arms around him just yet. “And my brother? I’m just learning about what—who—I really am. I need him in my life.”
Tristan huffed out a breath. “He told you to say that, didn’t he?”
“No.” She even managed to keep a straight face.
“Apparently becoming immortal doesn’t make you any better of a liar.” He gripped her hips, drawing her close. “If I have to put up with him to have you in my life, I’ll deal with it.”
Grudgingly, she thought, grinning.
He slipped his hand up her shirt, his fingers trailing across her skin. Her eyes slid shut, relief giving way to desire. His hand roamed higher and she tensed in delicious anticipation of him cupping her breast. He didn’t.
“What’s wrong?”
Puzzled, he lifted her shirt, running his finger along her scar. “You still have it?”
She nodded, watching him intently.
“You don’t hide it with glamour.” The approval in his voice made her heart squeeze.
She covered her hand with his, no longer just accepting that the scar was a part of her, but grateful for it. “My mother—my human mother loved me enough to die for me. I didn’t want to lose the reminder of her strength.”
Coaxing her up to meet his mouth, Tristan dragged her into another breath-stealing kiss.
“Where ar
e we going?” she asked when he broke away and turned her toward the bar’s exit.
“Home,” he answered, then came to a stop. “We’ll live wherever you want.”
“And if I wanted to continue working here?”
The brightness in his eyes dimmed. “Cale is still AWOL.”
She knew he’d disappeared with the dagger, but had expected he would have turned up by now. “You haven’t heard from him?”
“Just a quick note that said he had something important to take care of and he’d be back when he could.”
Kennedy pushed up on her toes and brushed her lips across his, hating the worry she read on his face. “Then I guess we should make sure this place is still up and running when he gets back, huh?”
A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Of course, I expect a hefty raise.”
“Naturally,” he murmured against her lips. “Any other negotiations we need to get out of the way?”
“Just say the magic words and I’m all yours.”
“Pretty please,” he offered.
“Nope.”
“Let’s get naked?”
Laughing, she shook her head and locked her arms around his neck. “You’re getting warmer.”
With an arrogant look, Tristan scooped her into his arms. “How about hocus-pocus?”
About the Author
A born and raised Maritimer, Sydney Somers fell in love with writing at the age of eight. Since finishing her first book in 2002, Sydney has written over twenty-five romances—one of which will forever remain hidden under her bed.
When she’s not tracking down remote controls, chasing two very energetic little boys or exterminating rogue dust bunnies, Sydney can be found curled up with a good book or working on her next sexy, paranormal romance. She loves to hear from readers and invites them to e-mail her ([email protected]) or drop by her website (www.sydneysomers.com) any time.
Look for these titles from Sydney Somers
Now Available:
Shadow Destroyers
Unbreakable
Stripped Away
Storm Warning
Spellbound
Say You’re Mine
Don’t Let Go
Whatever It Takes
Enslaved
Waitin’ on a Hero
Call Me Cupid
Talons: Caged Desire
Coming Soon:
Primal Attraction
The best laid plans can come back to bite you in the ass…
Whatever It Takes
© 2009 Sydney Somers
Spellbound, Book 3
Government Operative Gideon Bishop thrives on high-risk situations, but even his most volatile mission is nothing compared to coming face-to-face with his past. He’s spent the last four years trying to forget Tate Calder and their scorching affair, but the only way to get the information he needs is to keep her close—and keep his hands off her. Because the only thing riskier than protecting a woman who insists on hiding the truth is giving in to the attraction that still crackles between them.
All Tate wants is a quiet holiday with zero interruptions from her family, and even fewer from the witches’ council bent on recruiting her. Instead, she finds herself on the run from lethal mercenaries and the police with the one man she never expected to see again. To protect her family’s secrets, she’ll do whatever it takes to keep Gideon from learning the truth.
Even if it means risking her heart to seduce him—over and over again.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Whatever It Takes:
Tate craned her neck for any glimpse of flashing lights through the rear windshield. The only thing worse than fleeing a murder scene would be getting caught in the act.
“Turn left.”
Gideon jammed the pedal to the floor and shifted as they swung around the corner and up a narrow driveway.
“Around back.” She pointed to the far side of the white building without taking her eyes off the road behind them. Even if someone had noticed what direction they fled in, no one knew what car they were driving. Still, a car like this got noticed and it was just a matter of time before it garnered the wrong kind of interest.
When he pulled up alongside a parked tractor-trailer, she climbed out of the car and jogged to the small garage a few feet away.
She held the closed padlock in her hand. “Patefacio.”
When the lock disengaged, she pushed the double doors open and motioned for him to drive inside. With the car parked, he slid from the vehicle, no longer masking his pain as well as before.
She used the inside door connected to the clinic, pausing to enter the security code before proceeding.
“This is a vet’s office,” he said, scanning the pet care posters and shelves packed with vet-recommended food.
Tate shrugged. “I did suggest a real hospital, but you passed.”
He followed her into one of the rear exam rooms which had windows facing the ocean. Should anyone pass by this way they wouldn’t notice any lights on inside and get curious. Since the body count had doubled, she imagined few of Les’s men would be getting much sleep tonight.
“Take a seat.”
He didn’t move past the doorway, instead watching her root through drawers for the necessary supplies. “You pull a lot of bullets out of people?”
Unsure if he asked because he could see her hands shaking, she countered with, “Do you put that many in people?” She regretted the question almost instantly, certain she didn’t really want to know the answer. Talking might keep her from thinking about what she had to do, but there had to be smarter topics than his bullet-to-kill ratio.
He hadn’t elaborated on what he did for the government, so either he was lying about that to begin with or he worked for some branch of the CIA or another obscure agency.
As if the whole situation could feel any more surreal.
She motioned to the stuff she’d laid out. “What else do I need?”
“Besides a medical degree?” He surveyed everything with no small amount of skepticism.
“Take off your shirt.”
“How about we slow down for a second, Florence Nightingale.”
She scowled at the second crack about her on-the-fly nursing skills, but noticed he sounded more strained than before.
“Take off your shirt,” she repeated. “I’ll be right back.” She ventured down the hall until she came to the office. In its usual cupboard, she withdrew the bottle of whiskey Lena kept here for her husband. The older couple were friends of her father’s and the reason she’d fallen in love with living on the island to begin with.
She stopped, glanced at the phone. Hesitating another moment, she snatched it up and punched in Sawyer’s number.
“Not a good idea.”
She jumped as Gideon’s hand closed over hers. He replaced the phone, but didn’t back off when she turned around. She flattened a palm on the desk, needing all the support she could muster with Gideon breathing down her neck—literally. While she had always been able to hold her own with her brother and cousins, she didn’t know how much fight she had left in her tonight.
“If I don’t let my family know I’m okay, they’ll go on the warpath.”
He gave her a doubtful look.
“You don’t know my family.” Or the Tribunal.
“You can call them when we’re off the island,” he conceded.
“That won’t be until morning.”
“And there’s no way to know how long these guys have been interested in you. We can’t rule out the possibility they’ve already done their homework and know who in your family to watch.”
She frowned. “Now you’re talking like more than a couple guys are involved in this.”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but we’re better off not taking that kind of chance.”
“Okay,” she managed, though if a phone call was out, that meant she’d have to wait for an opportunity to make a personal visi
t without Gideon knowing.
He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “If you’re about to say that I need to trust you, save your breath.”
A half smile caught the corner of his mouth, and she realized he had stripped off his shirt. The bandage wrapped around his biceps was dark red, and she couldn’t help but wonder how the night would have turned out if the bullet had struck another few inches to left.
“Hey.”
Between his soothing tone and proximity, she should have known better than to raise her head and meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry you got caught up in this, Tate.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll figure this out and you can get back to your life.”
“And pretend none of this happened?” Pretend her friend hadn’t been murdered today? The excitement of the last hour caught up with her, piling on top of everything else the last twelve hours had delivered, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
She reached up to brush it away, but Gideon beat her to it. Instead of his using his hand, he caught the tear with his lips.
A shockwave rippled through her, the sensation intensifying the longer his lips lingered against her skin. His mouth moved lower, but before he could reach her lips, a creak sounded in the hall.
Gideon whipped around so fast her head spun, his gun in his hand and pointed at the silhouette standing in the doorway.
“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on in here?”
Evolution got an astronomical kick in the pants. Now it’s kicking back…
Demons are Forever
© 2009 Wynne Hayworth
Afterglow. Our world is changed. Mutated. Now home to humans who possess DNA belonging to creatures once thought to be only the stuff of legends. So what if the neighbor howls at the moon every month? No big deal as long as he mows his lawn.
A savage killer munching on helpless victims, however, is a big deal to Detective Buck Shand.
Buck is thinking less legend and more nightmare as he surveys the most recent in a series of brutal slayings. It’s beyond even his special talents, and he’s going to need help with this one. It arrives in the shapely form of Dr. Lian Herrick, a woman with her own form of Afterglow mutation—a demon that will shake Buck’s everyday world to its foundations and turn his brain inside out.
Primal Hunger: Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 1 Page 13
