It was reassuring to be able to see her. Agony to have to keep his distance. A phoenix ought to be close to his mate. He listened to the soft, troubled cadence of her breathing. Suddenly the air was filled with song. Trills and warbles burst out of his throat in a liquid melody. On the couch, Samantha tightened her fist on her treasure and relaxed infinitesimally.
He was singing to his mate. A lullaby that awakened some primal memory in him. The notes welling from his throat felt purely instinctive. And yet he couldn’t shake the conviction that he had sung this tune before. Many times. Incorporated his own variations on the notes. Added some fancy counterpoint and embellished it until it was not just lullaby, but love song.
Samantha’s face changed color. Flushed with some less stark paranormal hue. The line of her lashes blazed as brightly on her round cheeks as the hair on her head. He fluffed up his feathers with pride. He had done this. He had sung his mate into deeper, more refreshing sleep. Life was good.
He pointed his beak to the ceiling and let the music pour out of his soul and envelope his mate in a healing balm composed of pure sound.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Samantha~
The noise of a roaring motor woke her. She opened her eyes in sudden alarm. Memory flooded back. She was in the Reynolds’ cabin, not at home. Of course there were motorboats plying the ocean. It was morning. She vaguely remembered calling Claudia and arranging for Carmody to be taken care of.
Had she spoken to her daughter? No. Carmody had already been asleep.
Despite the overhang of the deep front porch roof, the sun was blinding in the living room. She sat up and let the blanket fall away from her body. That brilliant light was coming from the top of the open-fronted dresser. She had seen that starburst before. It was Rafael in phoenix form.
Golden eyes opened and shot sparks at her. A radiant blur landed on the floor and became a naked man. A naked god. A battered god, but still a god. Scars marred the former perfection of his olive skin. He still needed a shave. But he still made her heart race and her pussy throb. Abruptly she was the yearning woman of four years ago facing her virile lover. Emotions exploded through her body and made it hum as it had done in Hawaii.
His broad shoulders and carved chest narrowed to slim hips. A thicket of black pubic hair formed a base for the formidable erection saluting her. Muscular thighs barely dusted with black hair met perfect knees and tapered to strong calves and beautiful feet. Four days’ worth of patchy stubble did not conceal the scars that ruined the perfection of his face. But despite his face, he still exuded potent masculinity.
“Good morning,” he said huskily and gave her his back.
Rafael was just as beautiful from behind as in front. The dimples of his back swelled into tight hard buns. Then bedroom door blocked her view as he closed it. The skeletal invalid of yesterday had vanished as if he had never been. Had she done that? Or only given him the strength to shift and heal himself? Did it matter which? This man was not at death’s door.
She felt grubby and unkempt. Overdue for a shower. She could hear puttering as a motorboat reduced throttle. They had company. She sprinted for the bathroom. Even with a washed face, and after borrowing Rafael’s comb, she felt untidy and bedraggled. Unfortunately she could already hear voices.
She emerged from the bathroom at the same time Rafael came out of his room. The door to the cabin burst open and several voices spoke at once.
“Dear Heaven, he’s a raptor!” That was Mom. “You brute! What have you done to my daughter?”
“Calm down, Araminta. Are you all right, Samantha?” asked Dad with his usual placidity. Parsifal Belfast pouring oil on the waters Mom had troubled.
“What’s going on?” demanded Sully jovially.
“Have you had breakfast?” Robin Fairchild’s sweet soprano inquired.
Neither she nor Rafael bothered to add their voices to the confusion. They waited until Mom and Dad had sputtered to a halt and Robin had gone to the kitchen. Water flowed, spluttered, and failed.
“You’ll have to pump before the faucet will come on,” said Sully. “I’ll do it for you, Robin.” He tramped over to the sink.
Rafael turned to Samantha. “Who are all these people?” he asked mildly.
She made her lips move and was vaguely surprised that words emerged audibly. “Mom, Dad, this is Rafael D’Angelo. Rafael, these are my parents, Araminta and Parsifal Belfast.”
Dad cleared his throat. “I thought your name was Ardee?”
“Those are his initials,” Samantha explained. “R,” She paused. “D.”
“You said he was dead!” Mom was sorrowful and indignant. “You lied to us!” More sorrow. Greater indignation. Mom had lost her unicorn composure.
“I thought he was dead. Rafael was in a terrible accident,” Samantha said. “He was reported dead.”
Mom whinnied. No other word for it. It was a unicorn’s strongest statement of disbelief. A primal scream of rejection and skepticism. She certainly had her tail in a tight knot.
“Now, Minta,” Dad said in his peacemaker’s voice. “I’m sure there is some logical explanation.”
Rafael’s square jaw was set. He ignored her father’s outstretched hand and waved at the couch. “I don’t think I should shake, sir. Not if you share Samantha’s telepathic talent. She got badly burnt when she touched me.”
“Telepathy is part of the unicorn gift,” Dad responded curtly. “What the heck’s wrong with your psyche that you burnt her?” He put an arm around Samantha’s shoulders and hugged her gently.
“Won’t you have a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Belfast? I’ll try to explain,” Rafael said.
Sully carried six mugs to the table, three to a hand, and began setting them out in a neat row. Robin followed with the coffeepot. She stood by the table and spoke.
“We’ll drink our coffee over here. Have you eaten, Samantha?”
“I just got up,” Samantha cleared her throat. “Rafael too.”
Mom made a strangled noise and Dad clasped her hand in his and squeezed. Mom subsided. Robin went back to the kitchen with her mug of coffee. Everyone else sat down at the table. Sully poured them coffee. Passed cream and sugar. He smiled benevolently at them all.
Robin took a carton of eggs out of the fridge and found a bowl. “I’d like to hear your explanation too, Maj. D’Angelo,” she said sternly.
Rafael shrugged. “I was on board a helicopter flying over Kilauea. We got caught in a volcanic explosion. I and another crewman parachuted to safety, but were presumed dead. We were both badly injured.” Another shrug. “I suffered a concussion and memory loss in addition to my other wounds. I forgot meeting Samantha, and she apparently was unwilling to marry a man as badly injured as me.”
Even across the table, Samantha could sense his hurt. As if last night’s intimate connection had not been severed. Hot denials sprang to her tongue, but she never got to utter them.
“That’s not possible,” Mom declared. “Samantha would never forsake her mate!”
Trust Mom to leap to conclusions! “I didn’t hear that Rafael had been rescued, Mom. I thought he was dead. He really doesn’t remember anything that happened in the six months prior to that accident, including meeting me. And he certainly didn’t know about Carmody until recently. He’s still suffering from partial amnesia and PTSD.”
“And yet you just happened to wash up on West Haven, D’Angelo?” demanded Dad. That quiet voice meant Parsifal Belfast was in a towering fury.
“No, sir.” Rafael kept his voice uninflected despite the storm of accusations. “Anton Benoit told one of my cousins that there was a D’Angelo child on this island. Lincoln figured out that Carmody must be mine and informed me. I came to find out for myself.”
“She’s a hybrid!” wailed Mom despairingly. “My only grandchild is a hunter hybrid!”
Dad patted Mom’s arm. “Settle down, Minta,” he ordered. “Drink your coffee. Carmody is the same dear child that she was yesterday or last year.
”
Mom ignored his cautioning words. Her lips trembled. “No wonder she won’t behave properly. No wonder she keeps disappearing on us. She’s already manifesting,” she broke off and bit her lip.
Dad cleared his throat. “Carmody isn’t quite as docile as unicorn foals usually are, D’Angelo. My wife finds her nonsense a bit of a trial.”
“Whatever will the council say?” Mom wailed. Samantha could not ever recall her mother being so obviously distraught.
“Drink your coffee, Araminta,” ordered Robin, stirring the pan of eggs. “Gordon, what do you think the council will do?” She was her usual unflappable self.
“Put it to a vote.” Sully shook his shaggy head sadly. “Bound to. Especially since Minta here is halfway to hysteria.”
He turned to Rafael and spoke with menacing affability. “Now, son, I don’t say you did anything wrong, but Mystic Bay is a small town with small-town ideas. When everyone thought that Samantha was a bereaved unicorn with a fatherless foal, naturally we were all a little shocked, but there was no point in saying so.”
He held up one hand to forestall Samantha. “I’m sorry, Samantha, but facts are facts.”
“What Gordon means,” Robin cut in smoothly, “Is that since no one realized that Carmody was a hybrid hunter child, as well as being illegitimate, or knew that her father was alive, she and Samantha had the town’s sympathies. But once everyone knows that you’re Carmody’s father, Maj. D’Angelo, they will expect you to marry her.”
Robin set plates of eggs and toast before Rafael. And handed Samantha a huge bowl of salad. Rafael placed his coffee mug carefully on the table. He rose to his feet and squared his shoulders. To Samantha’s eyes he seemed taller than yesterday. His shoulders even broader and more filled out. He looked around triumphantly with his sightless eyes.
“Where do I sign?” he asked simply.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rafael~
By George Washington, he had her. A shotgun marriage might not be what Samantha Belfast expected. Particularly not to an ugly, blind, psychotic invalid. But who knew how long this morning’s burst of well-being would last? By nightfall he might be back in the Pit of Despair. Best to grab her while he could.
“At least no one could say we hadn’t tried,” chirped his soon-to-be mother-in-law. Araminta Belfast didn’t sound pleased. But she didn’t sound as shrill as she had before.
Samantha drew in a sharp breath. Her scent changed noticeably. Rafael pulled in her fragrance and sorted out his mate’s emotions. She was annoyed. Slightly scared. And unwilling. Too bad. They were getting married. Even if he didn’t die, they didn’t have to stay married long.
“I would like to be able to provide for Carmody, before I die,” Rafael used his humblest voice. He sat back down, located his plate and a fork, and began to shovel in breakfast. Eggs and toast. He was almost as hungry as last night, and the food was hot and tasty.
“Die?” Parsifal was not buying it. That was skepticism in his voice all right. But unlike his wife, he was willing to be persuaded.
If Parsifal didn’t believe he was at death’s door, Rafael’s aura must have greatly improved since yesterday, when Samantha had been certain he was about to buy the farm. He raised his head, echolocated Robin and murmured, “Thank you, ma’am. These eggs are great.”
“Yesterday, Rafael’s life energy was very weak, Dad. It seems much better this morning. But just look at my hand.”
“Is that why you’re eating with your left hand?” demanded Araminta in outrage.
“Does it hurt?” Parsifal asked. “Let me warm it for you. My stars, daughter. You can’t marry this fellow. Not if this is the result of a single touch.”
“Oh, Dad,” Samantha whispered. She sounded desolate. “At first it burned as if I had thrust it into a furnace. Now, it’s just cold and numb,” her voice remained so low Rafael had to strain to hear her. “I touched him four times, yesterday. The last time I adjusted his aura. That’s why I had to spend the night. I used a lot of energy and fell asleep almost immediately afterward.”
Araminta whinnied again. Rafael thought she tossed her head. That was one rattled equine.
“Now, Minta,” warned Dad. “Samantha doesn’t tell lies.”
Araminta whinnied a third time. The penny dropped for Rafael. Mom thought Samantha’s exhaustion was the result of a full-on night of debauch. For a unicorn, mom-in-law sure had a dirty mind. But even with the prospect of a hysterical Araminta Belfast as a mother-in-law, Rafael was filled with determination. After years of apathy, he had a goal.
Once he had his ring on Samantha’s finger, he was bound to get access to Carmody. And of course, if he died, or even if they divorced, his trust fund would ultimately be inherited by his legitimized daughter. He decided to weigh in on this family argument.
“It’s probably numb because she used it to clear my clock,” he announced cheerfully. Heck, he felt cheerful.
“She hit you?” Araminta was scandalized. And avid. But no longer whinnying. So mom-in-law liked scandal. Good to know. Not.
Rafael shook his head in feigned sorrow. “I know it’s hard to believe,” he fed reproach into his voice. “But she did. Walloped my jaw good and hard. May even have loosened a few teeth. For a pacifist, she packs quite a punch.”
“Samantha Belfast!” cried her mother at the exact moment Parsifal said, “Good for you.” And Samantha cried, “I’m not a pacifist.”
“Eat up, darling,” Rafael returned.
Samantha made a strangled noise, but her fork clinked against her bowl. She might be reluctant to marry him, but she was as hungry as he was.
Rafael swallowed his last piece of toast. “That was a mighty fine breakfast, Ms. Fairchild. But let’s get this show on the road, before I have a relapse. What exactly do we have to do in this town to get married?”
“As it happens,” said Sully with great good humor, “Robin is a justice of the peace, D’Angelo. She can perform the ceremony right this minute. That way, there will be nothing for anyone to say. Ever. Robin, my dear, do you happen have a license handy?”
Even a blind man could feel it when magic that powerful was invoked. Robin’s silvery voice said, “Of course. Gordon. Take Major D’Angelo into his room. He should be wearing garments more suitable for a wedding. You go with them, Parsifal. Samantha, stop pouting. I think I can manage a dress you will always remember.”
“I’m hardly dressed for a wedding,” protested Araminta.
Sully shut the bedroom door on Robin’s reply. “Dress blues?” the skipper asked.
“I didn’t bring mine with me,” Rafael said. His dress uniform was hanging in his closet back in the condo.
“No matter,” Sully assured him affably. “Parsifal, do you want your dress uniform? Or a suit?”
“Whichever Rafael chooses.”
“Dress blues then,” Rafael said.
He had always assumed he would be married in full uniform with his medals, as was traditional for the men in his family. But his medals and ribbons were also back in Portland.
He felt the cool air from the open window all over his body as his T-shirt and chinos disappeared, and then he was embraced by the familiarly of a tight-fitting uniform. He even had a tie.
Parsifal chuckled. “This fits better than my own uniform, Sullivan.”
“Mine too.” Sully chuckled. “I’ve spread a little since I was discharged.”
“Haven’t we all?” concurred Parsifal.
They both acted as if being valeted by magic was utterly normal. Maybe it was here on West Haven, but it sent shivers down Rafael’s spine. He jumped when a big hand covered his head.
“Hair cut,” said Sully’s gruff voice. His hand lightly touched both Rafael’s stubbly cheeks. “Shave. Can’t do anything about the scarring, but you’ll pass for an officer now.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rafael said bemused.
Parsifal said, “What about shoes, Sullivan? Those rubber boots of yours have seen
better days, and D’Angelo’s bare feet are inappropriate.”
“Right you are.”
Shoes and socks clasped Rafael’s feet. He didn’t even have to tie the laces.
“Anything else?” asked Sully.
“I need a ring,” Rafael said.
“Can’t help you there, son,” Sully was regretful. “The clothes are one thing, but they’re temporary. Can’t get married with a temporary ring. Bad luck for one thing.”
“More to the point, Sullivan,” Parsifal asked, “Is that enchanted license of Robin’s valid in the state of Oregon?”
“Oh, yes. In fact, it’s probably backdated four years.” Sully was jovial. “Robin is good.”
He slapped Rafael on the back. “Don’t you worry about that paperwork, son. You’ll have to buy your bride a proper ring after the ceremony, but I can promise you the paperwork won’t be an issue.”
Sully paused, as if listening. “Think they’re finished primping, Parsifal?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Samantha~
“Suppose I don’t want to marry a guy I can’t even touch,” Samantha asked bitterly.
Robin reached up and tenderly patted her cheek. “Truly?” the fairy asked. “Because, despite the trauma in his aura, you and Maj. D’Angelo seem very well suited. He certainly doesn’t seem to be in as desperate straits as Gordon thought him just a week ago. You’re good for him. I believe he is your fated mate. And I think you know that.”
“Do you think Carmody would be safe around him?” Samantha whispered back.
Mom inhaled sharply and bleated. Poor Mom. She was rattled to the bone.
Robin tipped her silvery head a quarter inch to one side. “Hmm. Good question. How’s your hand? Did your father’s touch heal it?”
Samantha flexed her fingers and touched her right hand gingerly with her other hand. “It’s better. Not so cold. But it’s still a little stiff and sore.”
Mom blew down her nose. She was certainly upset to make so many unicorn vocalizations. “Samantha Belfast, I don’t want to have to face the entire town in the Bean and try to explain why you and that hunter are not married. Or why you have a love child. Let alone about Carmody’s deviance. You owe it to your family to erase this blemish on our good name. A unicorn is always pure in name and spirit.”
Fated for the Phoenix: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 5) Page 11
