Imminent Affair

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  They ended the evening with his dad and promised to come back together another time. Much too aware, Papa Ernie watched them leave.

  On the way home, Daniel kept quiet. So did Allie. He figured they were both caught up in their own thoughts until they arrived at his house and found a drawing tacked to the front door.

  It was a ghoulish rendering of Allie, with cartoonish Xs over her eyes.

  Signaling her death.

  Chapter 5

  “It’s a creative likeness,” Allie said, trying to keep herself from getting too fearful. She and Daniel were inside his house now, and Detective Bell had already been called, but how long it would take for him to arrive was anyone’s guess. So far, the waiting seemed like forever.

  Daniel disagreed with her assessment. “It’s cruel and insane.”

  She rationalized. “The person who drew it is cruel and insane. But the drawing itself has merit.”

  “So you’re saying that your stalker is a fairly decent artist?”

  Her stalker. The title was official now. “Yes. It’s patterned after a horror comic. That’s the style of art that inspired it.”

  “Do you know if Glynis has any artistic ability?”

  “No, but I suspect that she does.” The dragon lady was a walking, talking graphic novel. “If not her, then maybe Margaret. We already established that they could be in this together.”

  He pondered the other suspect. “I wonder if Susan’s little sister likes to draw.”

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to have to find out.” She plopped down on the sofa and glanced at the sketch again, where it had been placed on the coffee table.

  “We should set up a security system with a camera,” he said. “In case she comes back. Then we’ll have an image of her. Then we’ll know who she is.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  He sat next to her and patted her knee, rustling the hem of her dress. “Can I get you anything?”

  You could kiss me, she thought. “No. I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure? You’re a little pale.”

  “I’m sure.”

  They stayed that way for a while, with his hand on her knee, until he seemed to become aware that he was touching her bare flesh. He lifted his hand. “Maybe I should get us both some water.”

  To quench the heat? To douse their attraction? Somehow she doubted that was going to work. But she said, “I am starting to get thirsty.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  He headed toward the kitchen, and she studied the strong, masculine angles of his body, the way his shoulders flared and his hips narrowed. Why did wanting him have to be so complicated?

  Because she loved him, her mind answered. But being in love didn’t mirror her favorite fairy tale. In the Disney version, Prince Charming didn’t have retrograde amnesia, and Cinderella wasn’t being stalked by a psycho bitch who wanted her dead.

  Daniel returned with two frosty glasses of ice water. He drank his and watched her sip from hers. As the water wet her lips, she battled what she’d been battling all day: the desire to kiss him.

  “Are you scared?” he asked.

  “Yes.” But not just of the stalker. She was afraid of the constant hunger, too.

  “I’ll keep you safe, Allie. I swear I will.”

  “I know. I trust you.”

  “If you have trouble sleeping tonight, you can come to my room.”

  The glass almost slipped from her hand. Before it hit the carpet and spilled all over the floor, she put it on an end table. “You’re inviting me to sleep with you?”

  “Not with me. Beside me. We won’t do anything.”

  “We won’t?” This was the strangest conversation she’d ever had.

  “No. I mean, we can control our urges.” He searched her expression. “Right?”

  Did he need to prove that they could keep their relationship at a no-sex level, even if they shared the same bed? Was that why he’d made the offer? Or was he truly worried about her being alone, steeped in stalker nightmares? She suspected it was a combination of both.

  “Yes,” she finally responded. “We can control our urges.” They already were, weren’t they? By talking about it? By admitting that those types of feelings existed? “But I should be okay tonight.” Or so she hoped. “I should just stay by myself.”

  He sat beside her again. “Is it different this time? Not having it connected to magic?”

  “I think it’s actually scarier. At least when it was witchcraft, I knew who was behind it. I knew it was my family, my ancestors. I knew who and what I was fighting.”

  “We’ll figure this out. We’ll solve it.” He frowned at the sketch. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me tonight?” He lifted his gaze and made eye contact. “I’d feel better having you with me. I could…” He let his words drift.

  “You could what?” she asked, pressing an issue that was better left alone.

  He blew out an audible breath. “Hold you while you sleep.”

  She clutched the arm of the couch. “What if you fall asleep first?”

  “Fat chance of that. I’m an insomniac, remember?”

  Yeah, and a sexy one besides. When he flashed a slight smile, the almost-there curve of his lips made him look like a modern-day rogue.

  Her heartbeat accelerated. “Maybe I’ll stay with you. I don’t know. We’ll see.” She wanted to, heaven knew she did, but she was already overly attached to him. “I’m trying to be brave on my own.”

  “I understand.” His smile vanished, replaced with an intense look. “Just as long as you know I’m here if you need me.”

  If only that included needing him for love.

  When the doorbell chimed, they both jumped up, assuming it was Detective Bell.

  And it was. But his focus-on-the-case presence didn’t curb their emotions. He simply took a report and gathered the evidence, leaving them even more aware of each other after he was gone.

  Later that night, Daniel tossed and turned. Flailing around in bed was nothing new to him, except for the anticipation of Allie, of wishing she would come to him.

  It was masochistic to want her sleeping beside him, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone with her fears, and he couldn’t stand being alone with his.

  His what? Fears? Or desires?

  Both. The fear of keeping her safe weighed on his mind, right along with heaviness of wanting to put his hands all over her.

  But if she did come to him, he wouldn’t cross any sexual lines. He would only hold her, the way he’d promised.

  Anxious, he glanced at the clock. 12:06 a.m. He’d gone to bed almost an hour ago. Was Allie asleep yet? Or was she tossing and turning, too? He was tempted to get up and go to her room, but that hadn’t been the deal. He’d invited her to come to him. The choice was supposed to be based on her needs, on her fears, not on his.

  He glanced at the clock again. When it changed to 12:07, he expelled a rough breath. The waiting was killing him.

  At 12:18, he heard footsteps in the hallway. His heart struck his chest, especially when his doorknob turned and the door creaked open.

  He should have left a light on, but he hadn’t wanted to seem too obvious. Now Allie was stumbling around in the dark.

  “Daniel?” she said, a question in his name.

  “I’m awake.” He ignited the bedside lamp, keeping the three-way switch on low and creating a soft glow. He also sat up and looked at her.

  Her hair was long and loose, and she wore cotton pajamas with little yellow flowers on them. He wondered if she’d chosen modest bedclothes for his benefit. Last time he’d scolded her for coming to him in a silky nightgown. But this time, he’d invited her. He didn’t care if she was sultry or sedate. He desperately wanted her there.

  She clasped her hands in front of her, locking her fingers, then unlocking them. She seemed insecure about venturing into his domain. He hoped that she didn’t change her mind and bolt out of his
room before he got a chance to hold her.

  “Close the door,” he said, trying to stop that from happening.

  She did as she was told, then resumed the same glued-to-the-carpet spot.

  He made room for her, scooting closer to the wall.

  She finally got into bed, and his hunger for her went haywire. He could smell her shampoo or body lotion or whatever it was, and the floral aroma created a midnight garden.

  Now he wanted to inhale her straight into his pores. Lust raged through his blood and tented his pajama bottoms. He almost grimaced from the rising discomfort.

  “Will you leave the light on for a while?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He partially covered her with a blanket. He kept his nether regions covered, too, hiding his desire. They lay side by side, facing each other.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should do this,” she said. “But when I was alone and I closed my eyes, I kept seeing that stupid drawing. It was like seeing myself in a coffin.” She sucked nervously on her bottom lip. “So I came to you to make it go away.”

  And here he was with a hard-on. Talk about wanting something to go away. “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked at him. “For what?”

  “All I can think about is how good you smell.”

  Her eyes went big and wide. “You’re hot and bothered?”

  Guilt pummeled him into being honest. “Totally.”

  “Daniel.” She shoved against his bare chest, pushing him away from her, and they both sputtered into anxious laughter.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “It’s okay. Besides, the diversion helps. I’d rather think about you being turned on instead of me being shut in a wooden box.” Although she was being flip, she still seemed nervous.

  “No one is going to shut you in a wooden box.” He wanted to close the gap between them, but he didn’t trust himself not to kiss her. “They’d have to put me in one first.”

  “That almost happened.” She glanced at the scar on his chest. Her mood had gone serious. “You almost died for me.”

  He reduced his heroics to an old adage. “Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”

  “It counted to me.”

  When she scooted closer, he had to remind himself to breathe. He could tell that she was going to touch his scar.

  There it went. Her hand on his skin. He shivered all the way to his toes.

  “I was turned on in the truck,” she said. “When I was fussing with my seatbelt. That’s what was wrong with me.”

  He hoped this conversation was helping her; it sure as hell wasn’t helping him. “But you’re not feeling that way now?”

  “I’m trying not to. Sex won’t solve anything.”

  Solve, no. Sate, yes. Still, he agreed that it shouldn’t happen. Making love would complicate their relationship. They were already closer than they should be, especially for a man with a scattered mind. “We both know better.”

  “Yes, we do.” She removed her hand from his skin. His burning-hot flesh. “I’ve never done this before.”

  He fought another shiver. He missed her touch. “Done what? Bunked down with someone who wasn’t your lover?”

  She nodded. “It’s a strange feeling.”

  For him, too. “I doubt I’ve done it before, either. Of course I can’t remember, so who knows?” Maybe he’d gotten into the habit of torturing himself.

  She met his troubled gaze. “Will you hold me now? I want to try to sleep.”

  “Of course I will.” He would deny her nothing, least of all feeling safe in his arms. “But you should turn around so we can do the spooning thing.”

  “Okay.” She rolled over, stirring the mattress and presenting him with a curtain of long dark hair.

  He shut out the light, and in the darkness, he pressed against her, curling his body next to hers. If she felt his arousal between them, she didn’t comment. She simply let him stay that way.

  Hard and hungry and dangerously protective.

  Allie awakened in Daniel’s arms, all too aware of his body heat, of his fly against her rear. He was still hard. But he couldn’t have been that way all night. Could he? Biologically, that didn’t seem possible.

  No, of course not. He probably had a case of morning wood. An involuntary reaction that occurred during sleep.

  She wiggled her butt, and he groaned.

  Yikes. He was awake.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “That’s okay.” He sounded groggy.

  “Did you sleep all right?”

  “For a little while. Mostly I just held you.”

  Before she sighed like a lovesick fool, she sat up to stretch. She’d slept like a baby. No nightmares. No Allie-in-a-box dreams.

  He sat up, too. And damn, if he didn’t look good. Insomnia worked on him. But everything worked on Daniel. Glasses. No glasses. Slicked hair. Wild, tousled hair. Pajamas. No pajamas.

  Not that she’d seen him without, but she could imagine.

  She’d behaved herself last night, but her appetite was in full force today. Maybe she should just kiss him and get it over with.

  And maybe she should stop craving what she wasn’t allowed to have. They’d agreed not to jump each other’s bones, and it was a rule they shouldn’t break.

  “Will you make some coffee?” he asked.

  “Sure. You take it black?” She knew he did, but it gave her something to say.

  “The stronger the better. Just call me when it’s ready.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll bring it in here.” Like a lover, she thought. Or a girlfriend. Or a wife.

  She darted out the door and down the hall to brew the coffee. When she returned, two cups in hand, Daniel was waiting for her.

  “Thanks.” He took the offering.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Their gazes met over the rims of their cups, and she longed to curl back up in his arms. The more time she spent with Daniel, the harder she fell.

  “We probably shouldn’t do this again,” she said.

  “Have coffee?”

  She lifted her brows. He knew darn well what she meant. “Sleep together, smarty.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “We wanted it to.”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t.”

  “And that makes it okay?” He shouldn’t have invited her to his room last night, and she shouldn’t have remained in bed with him this morning. Coffee or not.

  Flustered, she set her cup on the nightstand.

  He discarded his cup, too. Then he poked at her ribs, tickling her, teasing her, trying to lighten her mood.

  She batted his hand away. “Cut it out.”

  He tickled her again, and she managed to laugh, to give into his playfulness. Nonetheless, she was hurting inside. Longing for love and getting a crazy, mixed-up flirtation in return.

  “Do you even remember what sex is like?” she asked.

  He stopped goofing around. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” she parroted.

  “I remember how good it feels, but I don’t remember engaging in the act itself, of being with anyone. I have a lot of those kinds of memories. Feelings. Not images.”

  “Are you going to be nervous the first time it happens?”

  “Why would I be? It won’t be my real first time.”

  “I know, but…”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure things out.”

  Yes, she imagined that he would. But with whom? If she didn’t make love with him, then who would be his partner? The thought of him dating someone else made her heart go unbearably tight.

  “I think you should wait,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know.” She glanced away, struggling for a change of topic.

  He glanced away, too, and they both zeroed in on the clock. It was almost nine.

  “When are we going to see Susan’s sister?” she asked, grateful that she’d thought of something legitima
te to say.

  “As soon as I give her a call. Rex said she runs a computer business from home.”

  “So we’re going over there today?”

  He nodded. “I keep wondering if there was something more between Susan and me.”

  “More than friendship? Your dad said there wasn’t.”

  “I know. But what if there was?”

  Allie hoped there wasn’t. She’d been through something similar with Raven, and she didn’t want to go through it with Daniel, too. She couldn’t bear for him to be hung up on a girl from his past.

  Living or dead.

  Chapter 6

  Linda Delgado-Forster lived in a noisy neighborhood, in a house surrounded by a chain-link fence and a big, overgrown yard. Toys and bikes littered the driveway and a yappy dog, a shaggy terrier of some kind, pretended to patrol the grounds.

  Allie and Daniel opened the gate and entered the property and the pooch quit barking and ran to greet them. Daniel reached down to pet him. So did Allie. He was a cute little guy.

  Was his mistress a crazy stalker? Or was she just a hard-working single mom being wrongly suspected? Allie didn’t have a clue, and she doubted that Daniel did, either. He’d called ahead to let Linda know he would be stopping by with a friend named Allie, and she’d seemed surprised to hear from him. She also reacted, at least on the phone, as if she didn’t know who Allie was. Would she be as convincing in person?

  A ring of the doorbell would soon tell. Or maybe not. The bell didn’t work. Daniel knocked instead, and Allie glanced his way.

  “On the day I first came to your house, your doorbell was broken, too,” she said. “Your place was rundown then. You were still in the process of fixing it up.”

  “I think you told me this before.”

  “Did I?” She was always repeating stories from the past, hoping to trigger his memory, if that was even possible. “A mutual friend from the Warrior Society put me in touch with you. I came there to ask you about ravens.” Not only because he was a veterinary technician and had knowledge of birds, but because he was affiliated with the Haida Nation, and Raven was a demigod in that culture. Not Allie’s Raven. He was a real man who’d been cursed by witchcraft. The Haida Raven was a mythological creature.