by King, Thayer
“Hold on just a second.” She heard rustling and then talking in the background. Nikita wedged her cell between her ear and shoulder and continued to pace, her heels clicking on the hardwood. Minx perched on the back of the couch and watched her with curious gold eyes. Mama Skye picked up again. “Nancy plum forgot she asked. ʼCourse that was before she had her suspicions about him. Since you gave him your approval, she says it’ll be fine if he looks over the floors.”
“I’ll let him know. Since he knows I’m a hunter, he might not be so eager to visit again.”
“You told him?”
“I did it to get him to reveal himself and it worked.” He’d looked betrayed. Nikita shoved down a spark of guilt with vicious emotional control. She didn’t have time for wasted emotions. Ronan was a job. Nothing more.
Mama Skye laughed. “My clever girl.”
Nikita took a moment to bask in her praise. She removed her shoes. “Mama, you and Mrs. Williams enjoy yourselves.”
“You, too, baby. You should think of this as a vacation.”
With a witch next door? Not likely. But she didn’t want to upset Mama Skye. “I’ll do just that,” she replied. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
She felt tired but dreaded going to bed, knowing that sleep would be elusive. She checked Minx’s bowls. Both were full.
She headed upstairs and Minx followed. Stripping naked, she stretched until her body felt pleasantly limber. The stretching was supposed to be conducive to a good night’s sleep. Fat lot of good it had ever done her. Nikita ran a bubble bath. Mrs. Williams had an old fashioned claw footed tub. Generally, a bubble bath wasn’t something she would have wasted time on. But her job here was done.
She removed her makeup and braided her hair while the water ran. Her movements were quick and efficient. She slipped into the hot water, hoping to find the relaxation sitting about in a bowl of fragrant bubbles was supposed to bring. With some effort, she forced herself to recline. After ten minutes, she realized that she was frowning.
Nikita pressed her fingers to her furrowed brow and forcibly smoothed out the frown. A dull throbbing had begun behind her eyes. Headaches were her constant companion. It was a byproduct of the insomnia. No one in the family knew about her condition. She preferred to keep her own council. There was nothing they could do to help and she didn’t want to burden them with her problems.
She closed her eyes and took slow, deep breaths. Two minutes of that and she gave up. She’d tried meditation once and she sucked at it. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t drop her guard. In part, she knew her excessive vigilance was paranoid. Except when it wasn’t.
Feeling herself tensing up, she stood and let the water out. She rubbed baby oil into her skin. The doorbell rang. She wrapped up in a towel and went downstairs. It was ten. This town closed down at nine. Who could be at the door?
Minx beat her down the stairs and resumed her perch on the back of the sofa. Nikita turned on the porch light and peeped out the window. Her eyes widened when she spotted Ronan. Holding her towel with one hand, she opened the door and unlocked the screen door. “I was certain I’d seen the last of you.”
“We need to talk. Invite me in,” he demanded.
Arching an eyebrow, she took a step back to allow him entrance. “Come in.” She locked up behind him. Studying his back, she stifled a curse. Ronan was built on a big scale, but every inch of him was manly and gorgeous. His wide shoulders tapered to a lean waist. And that ass made her palms tingle with the need to slap it. Appalled by her own thoughts, Nikita shook her head. Damn it, she must be getting loopy from a lack of sleep.
“I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided it doesn’t change how I feel about you. Witch hunter or not, I still want you.”
Nikita’s mouth dropped open. This was a complication she had not foreseen. Nor was it one she’d ever faced before. She gestured toward the couch. “Please take a seat.”
He sat and Minx immediately took up residence in his lap. Sitting he was eye to eye with her. Securing her towel, she decided it would be prudent to remain standing. No need to give him any accidental peepshows. “I guess you don’t quite grasp the situation here. I came to check you out—as a possible evil menace. Not to date you. That’s not on the agenda.”
“Nikita, you’re my one.”
“One what?”
He gave her a significant look. “Your cousin is a witch. Did she tell you about the bond she formed with her husband?”
Understanding dawned followed by shock. She knew he wanted her. But to learn that he wanted to bind himself to her on a permanent basis was stunning. And damned misguided. “Not going to happen.”
“You don’t understand. There’s no choice in the matter for me or for you.”
She scoffed. “I’m not a witch.”
“You don’t have to be.” He shrugged. “Maybe one of your ancestors-”
“Shut your spell spitting mouth. There are no warty noses in my family tree.”
His eyes widened. “Could you tone down the witch hate for a second and listen to me?”
“I don’t have to. It ain’t happening.” She shook her head. “Look, if you’re saying this because you think it will help you get in my pants, you’re screwing with the wrong girl. I don’t do witches. I end them.”
“Are you saying you don’t feel the pull, too?”
She considered lying but she didn’t know what his talents were. Witches had different latent abilities. To some, detecting a lie came as natural as breathing. “You’re handsome, I’ll give you that.” She shrugged to show that she found the attraction negligible. “Why don’t you tell me why you think I’m your one?”
He sat forward, his blue-green eyes glowing with intense emotion. Minx took offense at this move and hopped to the floor. She sauntered off to the kitchen. “The first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you. There’s this sensation of déjà vu whenever I look at you. It’s like I’m having a happy memory of a moment I’d like to return to. Each time I’m with you, I feel more alive. It’s like an energy surge. I guess that’s why I have a difficult time containing my emotions when I’m with you.”
His answer was unexpected. She’d expected to hear a sex filled diatribe which she could easily dismiss. Still, she wouldn’t trust a witch. Who knew? She could have taken out a friend, lover, or family member of his. This could be a means for revenge. “Say I believe you, this won’t work. I don’t intend to give up my job.”
He gritted his teeth. “I can live with that.”
She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “You can live with me hunting and dispatching your kind?”
“You said you only…ended evil witches. You’re sort of like witch police. I know there are some witches that are less than scrupulous about how they use their powers. I can understand the need for someone to do what you do.”
Ronan sounded most reasonable. She didn’t believe him for an instant. “Bullshit.”
“What will it take to convince you?”
“Nothing.” He captured her wrists, holding her arms out wide to their full length, and drew her forward until she stood between his knees. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. She gritted her teeth against the unwelcome sensation. “Release me.”
“You feel it, don’t you?”
“What I feel is your hot paws making me sweat. I don’t like to be touched.”
“So it’s just not me you don’t like touching you?”
“I’m not touchy feely. Sue me. But don’t despair; I have a special bit of hatred reserved for witches.”
He laughed. “So no cuddling after sex?”
“You’ll never know.” His hold was secure but he wasn’t hurting her. She wouldn’t embarrass herself by struggling against his superior strength. “Let me go before I plant my foot in your-”
“So much hostility in such a delectably tiny body.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. His voice was growing husky with arousal and his eyes were ali
ght with mischief. The soft rasp of terrycloth sliding across her skin caused her to glance down. Her towel slipping was no coincidence. “Oh, for fuck’s sake-” He tugged her close, folding her arms behind her. They were face to face and his warm breath fanned her face.
“You smell damn good.”
She could say the same but she wouldn’t. Engaging her biggest weapon, her abrasive personality, she asked, “So what is this, Ronan? Decided you’d settle for a fuck instead of a mate?”
“You’re saying you don’t find me attractive?”
His blue-green eyes were really mesmerizing. She studied the dark blue rim that circled his beautiful irises. “No.”
“No, you don’t find me attractive? Or no, you’re not saying that?”
“I don’t find you attractive.”
“Your tight nipples say different. You’re surprisingly…busty for someone with such a small frame.”
If he was expecting her to blush or to be demure, he was going to be disappointed. “I’m chilly.”
His smile was slow and wickedly sexy. “I like you, Nikita. A lot.”
“I have no plans to kill you,” she acknowledged. That was as much as she would admit.
“All my senses tell me, you’re the one. Only one thing makes me uncertain. I dream of you, but I haven’t shared any dreams with you.”
“I don’t dream.”
“Everyone dreams.”
“Not true, as I’ve just told you that I don’t.”
“Then you’re not sleeping properly.”
His flip statement put her on edge. “This has been fun, but you should go.”
“You’re not afraid of me one little bit, are you?”
“Should I be?”
“Most women are at least intimidated by my size. I mean, I have you in a compromising situation, but you’re not scared. Why is that?”
“I’m good at reading people. If you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it at your house. And you’re a gentleman. You walked me home even when you were furious at me.”
“And now?” He arched a brow and then looked down at the towel bunched around her waist. It slithered the rest of the way to the floor, leaving her exposed to him. His eyes travelled over her at his leisure, pausing at her breasts and at the apex of her thighs. She could feel the heat of his gaze down to her bones. Her nipples stood out proudly as though seeking contact from him and her pussy flooded with moisture. Ronan took a ragged breath. “You’re exquisite,” he groaned. “May I kiss you?”
“That’s not a good idea. Ronan, I’ve been incredibly patient with you. Let me go.”
To her surprise, he released her and sat back. His erection tented his jeans. Grimacing, he adjusted himself. The sight caused heat to unfurl deep in her belly. Nikita wet her lips. Ignoring her unwelcome attraction towards him, she bent and picked up her towel. What she wanted to do was straddle Ronan, delve her fingers into his thick red hair and take his mouth in a kiss that would have him shooting in his pants. A stupid and horrifying craving. She had to get rid of him. The more time she spent around him, the sexier, he seemed to get. Seriously, were his lips always that full and luscious? Wrapping her towel around herself, she said, “It’s time for you to leave.”
***
It was a crime to cover a body that beautiful. He knew he would be seeing it again later tonight in his mind’s eye as he extinguished the fire in his loins. “Would you come with me to the Fall Harvest Festival?”
“No.”
“As a friend. It’s a quiet town. Since I assume you’re finished investigating me, you have nothing but free time on your hands. You’ve got to be bored out of your mind.”
“I’m used to quiet.”
“It’ll be fun. It’ll give you the chance to meet some more people.”
“I came to meet you. I have. I’ll never see any of these people again.”
“Come on. As fascinating as Minx is, you’ve got to be lonely.”
“Nope.”
Her obstinacy astounded him. “You want to say yes.”
“You’re going to want to stop telling me what I want before I crush your pointy hat.”
He sighed. “You do realize that I don’t have a pointy hat, a warty nose, or a broom?”
She shrugged a delicate shoulder and arched one thin brow as if to indicate that it didn’t matter to her if he did or he didn’t.
Ronan decided to let the matter drop. He’d ask her again when she’d had some time to contemplate it further. Maybe she would change her mind. But there was another topic that he couldn’t banish from his mind and that he wouldn’t let her shrug off. “What’s your real objection to accepting me as your mate?”
“I just don’t know where I’d get the eye of newt.”
Growing accustomed to her flippant witch bashing, he ignored her comment. “My being a witch aside, if I was a regular guy asking you out on a date-”
“But you’re not asking me out on a date. I’ve known you less than a month, and you’re proposing the equivalent of marriage.”
“That’s the bonus of being a witch. I don’t need a year to know that you’re it for me, that we’ll have a happy life together.”
Expression somber, she said, “There are no guarantees on happiness, Ronan. It’s often gone in the blink of an eye.”
He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that she had lost someone important to her. That she still suffered from the loss of this man ate him up with jealousy. “Who was he?”
“He?”
“The guy who broke your heart.”
She snorted. “As if. My entire life has proven the ephemeral nature of joy. My parents died in a car accident when I was five. I was raised by my aunt, who trained me to hunt witches, but seemed to always expect Mystique to be the one to carry on the family business. Meadow, my aunt, wasn’t the most maternal sort but she was my only partner in this since Mystique never wanted anything to do with hunting. Recently Meadow . . . retired. That leaves just me.” She bit her lip and her eyes widened. She seemed as stunned by her informative outburst as he was.
She was lonely, he realized, but afraid to trust that he would be there for her. Anything could take him away. A job. Death. “I’d never willingly leave you.”
“Leaving is leaving.”
“Is it really living if you don’t live life to the fullest? We could have so much together. Kids-”
She held up a hand. “Stop. You should go now. I withdraw my invitation.”
Ronan groaned. He had no choice but to obey her wishes. Supernatural etiquette demanded that he could only enter the home of a human unless he was invited. Without that permission, he couldn’t cross a threshold. It was physically impossible. Even now it felt as though the walls of Mrs. Williams’ house were closing in on him. An invisible force pressed on his chest, expelling the oxygen from his lungs and not allowing him to draw in more air. If he remained any longer, he’d black out. He stood and swiftly crossed to the door.
On the porch, he bent at the waist and glared back at the tiny nymph. “Denying it won’t change the facts. You’re mine, Nikita.” Her only response was a raised brow as she slammed the door in his face.
Chapter Four
Ronan parked his pickup and hopped out. He hefted the rocking chair out of the bed of his truck where it had been laying on its side. Up until ten years ago River Oaks retirement apartments had been the town hospital. When the new hospital was constructed, the old building was converted into apartments for the disabled and senior citizens. The entire family had been shocked when Uncle Hugh had put his house up for sale and moved into an apartment. Though he was close to eighty, he got around well enough and his age never seemed to be a deterrent to anything he wanted to do. With the air of patience one uses when speaking to a child, Hugh had explained that the place was going to be packed with widows and as there would be few men of his age, he would have his pick of the women.
The lobby was practically deserted. But that was to be expected on
a day with such fine weather as today. Temperatures were in the mid-seventies. It was a welcome change from the sweltering heat of summer. Ronan nodded at Mrs. Winters as he passed her desk. Phone receiver pressed to her ear while she painted her nails, she gave him a warm smile and a wave. Ronan wasn’t sure what her job description entailed, but he hoped it wasn’t too taxing. With her head full of white hair and her tanned and leathery skin, he’d guess her age to be around seventy. When he’d first met her, he’d mistaken her for one of the tenants instead of an employee.
The elevator doors opened as soon as he pressed the button. His uncle’s place was on the second floor. Ronan hoisted his gift over his head and made his way down the burgundy corridor. Having been blessed with good health all his life, he’d never had the misfortune to visit River Oaks when it was a hospital. Looking at it now, it was hard to imagine it as anything other than an apartment building. Whoever had been in charge of the remodel had successfully removed the cold anesthetic feel of a hospital and managed to interject the space with warmth and coziness.
He put the chair down to knock and the door was whipped open almost immediately. Ronan blinked. His cousin Brian, Uncle Hugh’s only child, gave him a curt nod. “Ronan,” he said, before brushing past him and stomping off down the hallway.
Uncle Hugh sat on the sofa, his expression tense. Ronan bypassed his uncle’s small kitchen area and placed the rocking chair by the window. Below he could see several seniors socializing in the center courtyard. “Hey, you okay?”
“What? Oh, sure. Sure.” He used the arm of the sofa to push himself to a standing position. “What’s this?” he asked, his cheeks creasing into a smile. He ran his hand over the back. “It’s beautiful.”
Ronan grinned. “It’s yours. Happy birthday.”
“Do I look like I need a rocking chair?” Nonetheless, he settled his large frame into the chair and set it to rocking. Hugh was a large man like himself. Ronan had taken that into consideration when he’d designed the width and height. Uncle Hugh let out a sigh. “Perfect. I always say you were my best apprentice.”
