Tempt Not the Cat

by J. C. Wilder

  She took a small sip from her glass. Setting it back on the edge of the hot tub, she selected a chunk of sharp cheddar and popped it in her mouth. Leaning against the edge, she closed her eyes as a delicious languor spread through her limbs.

  Fantasies. Everyone had them and, as a romance writer, they were her stock in trade.

  Last night had certainly been a fantasy, except it’d come true. Erihn smiled. Tall, dark and wicked he’d been. And with a name like Fayne, maybe that added to the attraction. What did “Fayne” mean? She’d have to look it up. Eyes still closed, she reached for the tray and fumbled for another piece of cheese.

  And that kiss.

  She bit into the morsel and chewed thoughtfully, her toes curling at the memory of the embrace. Immediately an image of Fayne appeared. Dark and lean, his movements sensual, predatory when he’d approached her. There was something untamed, feral about him that defied description. The patrons of the bar had faded to obscurity as her attention was drawn to him, only him. His violet eyes…

  Violet eyes.

  She’d never heard of anyone with violet eyes save Elizabeth Taylor. They were mesmerizing. Maybe her new hero would have violet eyes, and kisses that could melt butter and the heroine’s resistance. A man like Fayne was someone most women could only dream about—dark, predatory and dangerous. Women would fall all over him.

  He certainly wouldn’t have need of a scarred woman…

  Erihn’s eyes popped open at the intrusive thought. Hesitantly, she glanced at her body, but the water obscured the imperfections. A huff of air escaped her. If no one ever saw the marks, then she could ignore them, at least for a little while.

  Until she slept.

  She shook herself from the disturbing thoughts. Right now, she needed to work on her book, her hero in particular. Turning, she propped an arm on the edge of the tub as she reached for the briefcase and her notebook inside. Opening the pad, she placed it on the side of the tub, safe from the water, and wrote the date on the page.

  So far, she had precious little material about this hero. All she knew was his name, Tuomas, and he’d been mentioned several times in the first book. It never occurred to her that the readers would latch on to his name and want to read his story.

  “The hero should be blond,” Erihn spoke out loud.

  Again, images of Fayne invaded her mind, his mocking smile, those mysterious eyes. She groaned and tossed her pen on the notebook.

  “Go away,” she muttered.

  Gripping the ledge of the tub, she propped her chin on her arms. Raising her feet, she floated on her stomach, her toes brushing the far side of the tub. The warm water soothed her skin with the intimate touch of a lover. Cautiously, she spread her legs just the slightest bit, allowing the warm water to caress her most sensitive flesh.

  Despite the warmth of the water, her nipples hardened. She shifted her legs farther apart, the movement causing the water to lap against her flesh. Another soft huff of air escaped her and she gave herself to the fantasy that called her name.

  Fayne stood at the edge of the hot tub, a cream-colored towel draped about his narrow hips. He watched her, his gaze scorching her skin. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Wordless, Erihn extended her hand, beckoning him to join her in the water. She stared transfixed when he released the towel, dropping it unselfconsciously behind him on the steps. The sunlight gleamed on the golden skin of his shoulders. Dark hair formed a T on his chest, covering him from nipple to nipple, and trailing down his flat stomach to the thatch that surrounded his manhood.

  Eieda!

  Erihn blinked as he stepped into the water. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her gaze to his as he pulled her into his arms. “I’ve waited so long,” he purred.

  She sighed when his strong arms surrounded her, tucking her against his body. His head dipped, his lips grazing her shoulder to send shivers of desire through her. His feet bracketed hers, his arousal pressing against her stomach as he placed open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone.

  She flattened her hands against his back, relishing the heat and the strength of him. An ache blossomed between her thighs as his mouth grazed her neck, forcing her head back. She moved restlessly against him and he trailed kisses up her throat, his hands cupping her backside, pressing her against his burgeoning erection.

  A groan escaped and she gave in to the temptation of his big warm body. She pulled away from the symphony of heat his mouth was creating on her skin and shifted until she could reach him. She licked his nipple and he froze beneath her mouth. Delighted with his response, she licked him again, this time capturing the tender flesh between her teeth and worrying it with her tongue.

  Breath hissed between his teeth. He released her, sliding his hands up her arms as he put her away from him. Reluctantly, she released the nubbin of flesh with a soft pop. She looked up into his dark violet eyes.

  “This is for you, angel.” He picked her up easily and deposited her on the flat ledge of the tub. He propped her hands behind her so she was leaning back. With him towering over her, she felt no fear when his hands skimmed her shoulders, then down between her breasts, blazing a trail of heat in his wake. Caressing a tight circle around her belly button, he dipped his head to tease it with his tongue.

  He sank into the water, parting her legs. Placing teasing kisses up her inner thigh, he felt her tense when he raised her legs to balance on his shoulders. Startled, she placed her hands on his head to stop his devilish plan.

  But he captured her hand. Pressing a damp kiss to her palm, he released her. “No fear, angel.”

  She drew a shaky breath and he resumed a leisurely journey. His mouth covered her and she cried out, leaning into him. Ribbons of pleasure furled beneath her skin as desire caught in her blood. A moan escaped and she rocked helplessly against his magical tongue. Sunlight danced against her eyelids as Fayne worked his sorcery on her body. Lust spiraled her higher and higher, racing for the peak. The precipice beckoned.

  He stopped.

  She opened her eyes when he slipped from between her thighs. Rising, his broad shoulders blocked the sunshine. Capturing the backs of her knees, he spread her wide enough to accept his hips. Pressed intimately against her, she longed for his invasion. She reached for him, her hands cupped his shoulders when he captured her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his.

  His lips moved…

  “Honey, I’m home.”

  Fayne blinked. One minute, the fetching sight of a nude Erihn lazing in the hot tub greeted him, and a second later she’d disappeared beneath the water. He dropped his duffel bag and strode to the hot tub. The clear water revealed Erihn, holding her breath while crouched in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself protectively.

  He grinned.

  She certainly couldn’t stay down there forever.

  He stripped off his leather jacket and tossed it over a chair to join her clothing. Might as well make himself at home while he waited for her to reappear. He picked up her wineglass and took a drink, the wine tart on his tongue. Selecting a chunk of cheese, he bit into it, relishing the bite of perfectly aged cheddar. He refilled her glass then leaned on the edge of the tub to await her reemergence.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  With a splash, her head and shoulders popped out of the water. Thick brown hair streamed into her eyes causing her to fumble for the edge of the tub. She panted for air as she struggled for purchase on the slick fiberglass ledge. Fayne abandoned his borrowed glass on the tray and grabbed her wet hand. She froze. He secured her hand on the edge before releasing her. Reaching over, he shoved her hair out of her face. Horrified brown eyes stared at him.

  “What are you doing here?” she spluttered.

  He grinned. “I live here.”

  Erihn jerked away from the edge and, with a startled cry, she lost her precarious footing on the bottom of the tub. With a splash, she went under again. He lunged for her, banging his knees against the wooden side of the tub surround. Bendi
ng, he captured one slippery arm. He caught her other arm and hauled her to the surface, cradling her against his chest. Slender fingers clutched at him and she leaned into him, coughing water across his shirt. He grimaced at the sensation of the spreading wetness on his shoulder.

  “I don’t think you make a very good mermaid,” he commented, relishing the feel of her warm, damp flesh through his clothes. She might wear bulky clothing, but there was nothing wrong with her body. Full breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples erect, while her long shapely legs dangled in the water. He couldn’t see the rest of her.

  What a pity.

  Fayne took a deep breath then tensed. He could smell her arousal. Hot and fluid, the scent of warm woman surrounded him. His body responded and his jeans grew uncomfortably tight as a familiar tension invaded below his waist.

  She shoved at his chest, forcing him to release her. He almost smiled when she slid back into the water, crossed her arms over her breasts. She glared at him, but he had a feeling that smiling might be a big mistake. She wouldn’t take being laughed at lightly. She was truly a delightful mass of contradictions. She fascinated him.

  “You don’t live here,” she accused. “You followed me.”

  Fayne shook his head. “I’ve been staying here off and on since last December. Obviously, Jennifer didn’t tell you.”

  “N-n-no.” She looked so confused and dismayed that he battled the urge to take her into his arms. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets then stifled a groan when his pants tightened across his groin. He withdrew his hands and forced his arms to his sides.

  “She must’ve forgotten,” he offered.

  “Could you please turn around?” she blurted.

  She looked so miserable, standing there trying to cover up every inch of her delectable pink skin, he decided to take pity on her. Turning, he retrieved her sweater from under the pile of clothes on the chair behind him. Without looking back, he offered the garment over his shoulder, grinning when she snatched it out of his hand. He tried to ignore the rustle of clothing as she pulled the sweater on, all the while muttering under her breath.

  “I cannot believe this! How could Jennifer…I’m so annoyed…he must be lying.”

  Fayne walked to the deck railing when he heard her splashing her way out of the hot tub. He leaned against the rail, taking in the stunning view of the valley at his feet. Several mountain peaks over, he noticed clouds gathering. Dark and menacing, a storm was coming, and it looked to be a big one.

  “I’m not lying. Call Jennifer and ask her,” he said mildly.

  He was surprised when Erihn appeared beside him. Her hair covered most of her face, but her dark eyes were throwing darts at him through the damp strands. She had a briefcase clutched to her chest. Angling her chin up, she stared at him.

  “I think I shall,” she announced. She turned on one heel and he watched her stalk toward the doors leading to the living room. Her cardigan barely covered her shapely backside and he whistled in appreciation.

  She stiffened, her steps faltered. Squaring her shoulders, she marched into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  Fayne chuckled and turned back to stare at the approaching storm. Whatever her physical faults, she had a great pair of legs and an ass to kill for. He walked over to the hot tub, retrieved his borrowed wineglass and offered a silent salute to the coming storm.

  “What do you mean, he’s staying here?” Erihn fought to keep the rising panic out of her voice.

  “Darling, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I simply forgot. With the last-minute packing and everything else, it slipped my mind,” Jennifer said. “Besides, Fayne is harmless for the most part…”

  “For the most part,” Erihn hissed. “How could you do this to me?” She gripped the phone as she tiptoed to the window.

  The master bedroom overlooked the deck and the abandoned hot tub. Through the blinds, she saw Fayne stretched out on a lounge chair. He’d absconded with her snack tray and was making steady inroads into the contents. Cad! Not only had he invaded her sanctuary, but he’d made off with her food also. Without warning, he sat up and pulled off his shirt.

  Her mouth went dry. Golden skin stretched taut over rippling muscles, obscured only by a fine dusting of hair on his chest. A narrow line of dark hair vanished into the top of his jeans, as if it were a roadmap to his manhood, neatly dissecting his washboard stomach.

  Long, muscular legs were encased in worn denim and he’d kicked off his shoes. He was the picture of a relaxed male, far more handsome than her daydreams had allowed. He reached for another morsel when Erihn caught sight of his right arm.

  “He has a tattoo,” she squeaked.

  Fayne looked up, those catlike eyes boring into hers.

  Startled, she jerked away from the window and almost dropped the phone.

  “He does?” Jennifer was saying. “What is it? Better yet, where is it?”

  “It looks like a ring of thorns on his arm,” Erihn whispered.

  “How boring. I would have expected a more interesting place from Fayne,” Jennifer commented. “I wonder if he has any more.”

  “This isn’t funny,” Erihn hissed. She tiptoed over to her suitcase, lying open on the massive bed.

  “Why are you whispering?” Jennifer asked.

  “I don’t want him to hear me.” She began pawing through the jumble of tangled clothing until she located her black sweatpants.

  “Where is he?” Jennifer laughed. “Right outside the door?”

  “On the deck.” Erihn propped the phone against her shoulder and struggled into the worn cotton pants.

  “He can’t hear you from the deck.”

  “Sure could’ve fooled me,” Erihn grunted as she pulled the pants over her damp skin.

  “What are you doing?” Jennifer demanded.

  “Getting dressed. I’m leaving,” she snapped.

  “Erihn, let’s not be hasty,” Jennifer replied. “I’ve known Fayne for many years—”

  “How many?”

  “Hundreds.”

  Erihn scowled, “Very funny, Jennifer. I really don’t think this is a laughing matter. This is your house and you have the right to invite anyone you like. I just wish you’d told me he’d be here. I could’ve made other arrangements.” She grabbed a pink sweatshirt with a print of a cartoon mouse on the front.

  “Erihn, please listen to me. I’m very serious when I say you’re perfectly safe with Fayne. He’d never hurt you, or any woman for that matter,” Jennifer said. “I’m begging you not to leave. He’s staying in the basement guestroom. Other than stumbling over one another in the kitchen, you don’t even have to see him.”

  Erihn paused, her throat crowded with fear and her palms grew slick. She couldn’t face it again. Nothing would ever induce her to sleep in a house with any man on the loose, let alone one as potent as Fayne.

  Nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Jennifer,” her voice cracked.

  “Oh, er—”

  The line went dead.

  She frowned and tapped on the power button, but it was still lit. Setting the phone in the cradle, she glanced out the window. Her glorious sunshine was gone, obliterated by black clouds the likes of which she’d never seen. Flashes of lightning lit the darkening skies and the wind had picked up.

  “No.” Erihn stumbled outside to the tiny deck that extended from the bedroom sliding door. The thunderclouds were beginning their slow descent into the valley toward them.

  “Isn’t this great?”

  She looked down to see Fayne standing at the railing, his beautiful ginger-colored hair whipped by the cool winds the storm generated. He was leaning forward over the railing as if he urging the storm to move faster. His handsome face was alight with excitement.

  “Great isn’t the word I’d use to describe it,” Erihn said, her lips numb as despair washed over her.

  She was trapped. Until this storm blew over, there was no way down the mountain.

  * *
* * *

  Edward drew an icy finger over the flowing script on the page. He knew the words by heart, yet he let his gaze travel over the crux of the letter again.

  “Erihn Spencer is in possession of a copy of Elsabeth’s diary, stolen from me over two centuries ago. I don’t care how you do it, but I expect you to return to me what is rightfully mine.”

  So, Erihn was in possession of Mikhail’s wife’s diary, how very interesting. He knew Elsabeth had come into intimate knowledge of the preternaturals before her untimely death and she’d recorded everything in her journal. Uncovered years later, copies had been made of the decaying original in the hopes of securing and using the information at some point in time. Instead, they’d come up missing, stolen from Mikhail’s ancestral home. Now, hundreds of years later, one had finally turned up.

  The immediate ramifications were devastating to Mikhail and his ilk. The diary could very easily contain information to bring down all of them in their attempt to overthrow the current Council of Elders, the ruling body of the preternatural underworld. His gaze moved down the page.

  “Leave no witnesses…”

  That was certainly easy enough. Edward smiled. First, though, there was the little matter of Fayne.

  Edward picked up a photograph that lay near the letter. It was a photo of one of his most precious possessions.

  Max.

  Edward’s eyes narrowed when he scanned the photo of Fayne chasing after Max as they played with a football. Max was his, and he belonged with him, not that were-creature. Soon enough, he’d reclaim his property and break the cat in half.

  He dropped the photo on the letter then reached forward, plucking a rose from an ornate arrangement on the table. He brushed the blood-red bloom over his lips, enjoying the feel of the silken petals over his chilled skin. The scent of roses teased his nostrils.

  He held the blossom an inch from his lips and gently blew. Icy breath passed his lips and curled around the rose. Within seconds, it was frozen solid. Edward admired his handiwork before crushing the blossom in his hands. Jagged shards of broken petals rained down on the photograph until Fayne’s image was obliterated.