Inferno

by Cara Bristol

  Inferno groaned.

  With a sly smile, she bent and took him in her mouth. He sucked in his breath, his entire body going as rigid as his cock. She stroked as she sucked until, with a growl, he pulled away. They stretched out on the bed, and he took his time, rediscovering her curves. He fondled her sex and teased her with his mouth and, when she was arching and crying out, he moved into position and entered her.

  Spicy heat filled her senses from the inside out. Muscles clutched at him. Tension built, lifting her higher and higher until she exploded in a starburst of ecstasy. Groaning, he joined her moments later, his body convulsing with rapture.

  She curled up next to him, basking in the afterglow—and his body heat. Whew. She kicked the covers to the foot of the bed then hugged him again.

  He caressed her hair with a lazy hand, toying with her curls. He brushed his lips to her head.

  Heavy eyelids tempted her to surrender to sleep, and she wished she could stay in bed with him, but duty called. She sighed. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to work. I’ve taken too much time off because of Wanda—and thank you again for having Mysk fix her. That means a lot to me.”

  “Anything for my genmate.” After several beats of silence, he said, “I’m sorry I annoyed you with the flowers.”

  “No, no. It was my bad. I overreacted. There were so many of them.” She drew circles on his chest with her finger. She needed to get up and get moving.

  “That’s how they came—in a bunch.”

  “Yeah, but you sent several bunches.”

  “No, just one.”

  She raised up on an elbow. “I got three bouquets. The spring flowers you brought yourself and two red rose bouquets delivered by the florist.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t send roses.”

  “You didn’t send me roses?” she repeated.

  “No.”

  Her mind whirled, processing everything. If he said he hadn’t sent the roses, she believed him. She held her breath. “How many notes did you write me?”

  “One.”

  She shivered with a sudden chill. “What did you say in the note?” She already knew.

  “You didn’t read it?”

  “Yes, but please tell me.”

  He frowned. “I said I was not from your planet, but I hoped you would allow me to prove we were meant for each other. I slipped it under the church doors.”

  “It was in a white envelope. You signed your name,” she recalled. The note left on the windshield and the cards with roses had been unsigned.

  “Yes, isn’t that customary?”

  “So you didn’t leave me a note on Wanda’s windshield that said, I love you. We belong together?” she verified.

  “Those words are true, but I didn’t write them.” He glowered, and she could feel his body temperature rise. “Someone else is writing you notes and sending you flowers? Who?”

  She’d misjudged him again, assuming erroneously he’d sent the note and flowers and accusing him of being excessive. It hadn’t been him at all. So, who? She recalled the times she felt like she was under observation as she walked across the parking lot. She was pretty darn sure now that hadn’t been Inferno, either.

  “Your ex.” He answered his own question.

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  Trenton didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, and they’d been divorced for two years with no contact in the interim. Furthermore, he lived eight hours away in Boise, too far to drop by and slip a note under the windshield wiper.

  If he still lived in Boise! Lately her assumptions had been more wrong than right. Trenton had said he’d traveled to Spokane “on business,” but maybe he lived there now—close enough to swing by the florist in Coeur d’Alene and the Church of Argent. Sending flowers could be done by phone or Internet anyway. She intended to call the florist and see if they could tell her who had ordered the roses.

  The manner in which the flowers and notes had been left had been more stalker-like than romantic. And wasn’t it strange how he’d appeared out of the blue? Of course, he had to deal with the land sale paperwork, but didn’t the escrow company deal with that? Scrunching her forehead, she tried to remember when she had found the note on her windshield.

  “It could have been Trenton,” she admitted, shaking her head, still doubtful.

  But if not Trenton, then who? The idea of a nameless, faceless stranger stalking her scared her. I hope it’s Trenton. Him I can handle.

  “It’s him. He wishes to claim you. He doesn’t like me. I don’t like him, either.” He radiated heat.

  Oh great. Having two men butt horns wasn’t romantic—it was problematic. She studied Inferno’s angry face. He could butt horns because he had them. Trenton would be at a disadvantage. The asshole.

  “Yes, but I only like and want one of you. You,” she said.

  His eyes continued to spark, but his fierce expression softened to adoration. “And I only like and want you.”

  She hugged him. “I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions.” For misjudging you. She’d blamed him for transgressions he hadn’t committed. That she’d come close to rejecting him because of what Trenton had done pissed her off even more. When she saw that asshat, she intended to give him a piece of her mind!

  * * * *

  She and Inferno arranged to meet for dinner, and then she dropped him off at his farmhouse before guiding Wanda to the church. Uncle Mike was in her office on his knees, cleaning up broken glass and water. Flowers were scattered across the floor.

  “Oh, no! What happened?” She stooped and gathered Inferno’s flowers. Fortunately, the blooms were unharmed.

  “The vase must have fallen off your desk.” Uncle Mike emptied a dustpan of shards into a wastebasket and blotted the floor with paper towels. “I got in a few minutes ago, passed by your office, and saw the mess.”

  Clutching the flowers, she stood up and surveyed her office. Nothing else appeared out of place. “I’ll put these in water. Back in a sec.”

  In the kitchen, she filled a pitcher with water and set the flowers inside. Grabbing a handheld mini-vac, she went to help Uncle Mike. He had the floor dried, and she vacuumed the glass from the cracks between the oak slats.

  She grimaced at the water damage to the 100-year-old wood floor. “I’m sorry. Thank you for cleaning up.”

  “Of course! It’s not your fault. Accidents happen.”

  “It wasn’t an accident. I was here earlier. Inferno brought Wanda, and I took her for a test drive.” And had sex. She’d been gone about an hour and a half. “These flowers didn’t leap off the desk.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Somebody dumped them on the floor.”

  “Who would do that?”

  “Probably the person who sent those.” She pointed at the roses. “Those aren’t from Inferno.”

  “Who then?”

  “A secret stalker.” She hesitated to accuse Trenton until she had proof. It just seemed so…ballsy. Would he really go this far?

  Uncle Mike glanced at the wastebasket of broken glass and stepped toward the phone on her desk. “If you’re being stalked, we need to call the police.”

  “No.” She laid a hand on his arm. “There’s nothing to tell. Flowers fell off the desk? I got a few love notes?”

  “Notes?” His eyes narrowed. “There’s more besides the one I forgot to give you?”

  “One other, plus the cards that were attached to the roses.” Thinking they were from Inferno, she’d saved everything. She pulled open the drawer to retrieve them.

  A chill slithered down her spine. We were meant to be together. Forever and ever. “Make that two others.” She extracted the paper by the corner and dropped it on the desk. Black lettering lay stark and threatening against the whiteness of the paper.

  Trenton had been in her office!

  “You just found that?”

  She nodded.

 
He reached for the phone. “Now I am calling the sheriff.”

  “No! Uncle Mike…don’t.” She bit her lip. “I think it’s Trenton.” She dug out the collection of other notes and set Inferno’s aside. “This one I found on my windshield. These cards came with the roses.” The cards had been written by the florist. She didn’t recognize the block-style letters of the other two notes as Trenton’s, but if he was leaving them anonymously, he’d change his handwriting.

  “Just because it’s Trenton, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t report it. What if he’s dangerous?”

  “He’s not. Trenton’s bluster and self-importance makes him annoying, not dangerous.”

  Uncle Mike didn’t look convinced. He pressed his lips together the way Geneva’s dad used to. “What’s the other letter you set aside?”

  “That’s from Inferno. That’s the note you had.”

  “Why are you certain he’s not involved?”

  “Because I asked him, and he said he wasn’t.”

  Bushy gray brows arched. “Oh, that’s definitive proof.”

  “I trust him. I have faith in him.”

  “Sweetheart, you just met him. Your faith could be misplaced. Excuse me for saying so, but you’re not the most discerning judge of character.”

  “You liked him! You encouraged me to see him!”

  “I did, but that was before learning he might be stalking you.”

  “It’s not Inferno, Uncle Mike. I’m sure of it.”

  The notes did express similar sentiments to what Inferno had been saying all along, and he had gotten serious quickly, but she was confident it wasn’t him. Running into him outside of Millie’s and encountering him on the road after Wanda had broken down were coincidences. There’d been no sign of the other ’Topians he’d claimed to be with, but hover scooters ran with invisibility screens, so if he said he’d been with friends, he’d been with friends.

  Nor could she overlook his helpfulness with Wanda. If not for him, her car would have been junked. The fact Wanda had been probed and transformed by aliens and could have been implanted with a tracking device…no! Stop! Don’t go there!

  Skepticism was healthy; doubting the man you were falling in love with because circumstantial evidence poked a few holes in his story seemed disloyal. Especially when a more likely suspect existed.

  She was pretty sure Inferno was innocent.

  “Trenton is bringing the check tomorrow. I’ll confront him.”

  “I should be here when you do.”

  “He didn’t give me a time.”

  “I want to be here,” he insisted.

  Trenton wasn’t dangerous, but for her uncle’s peace of mind, she nodded. “Please let me do the speaking, okay?”

  * * * *

  Gazing at Inferno’s earnest, honest face as he slurped up the long rice noodles in a steaming bowl of pho, Geneva’s belief he hadn’t left the unwanted gifts and notes solidified. He didn’t have a sneaky bone in his entire body. He was a good man. One she could trust. Grow old with. I think I may have met my soul mate. I always had a premonition one day Mr. Right would find me. Perhaps there is something to the genmate thing.

  He paused eating. “You’re staring at me. Am I not eating this correctly?”

  “I was thinking how lucky I am to have met you.”

  Heat flashed in his eyes. “I am the lucky one.”

  Her stomach fluttered at the promise in his gaze, and she ducked her head, smiling wider. It was hard to believe now how she’d overreacted upon meeting him. All she’d known to be true and factual had gone up in smoke, and she’d reverted to superstition and myth. Although handsome as sin, he looked nothing like a devil—despite his slightly ruddy complexion, hot little horns, and tail.

  She studied his arresting features. “You’re not wearing your rose quartz anymore,” she observed.

  He slapped his throat with his hand. “Oh, no.” He leaned over in the booth to peer at the floor. “I must have lost it! Herian!”

  “You bought it at the Inner Journey, right? You can replace it.”

  “But that one was special. It brought me you!”

  She reached across the table and covered his hand. There was so much she needed to say, but the words stuck in her throat. She’d dreamed of meeting her soul mate but hadn’t anticipated so many fits and starts when she did.

  After accusing him of moving too fast, her feelings had shifted overnight. The scales had fallen from her eyes, and, for the first time, she could appreciate the treasure she’d been granted.

  Bean sprouts and basil floated on top of her chicken pho. Tell him. Say it! He deserves to hear it. She sought his gaze. “I think I’m falling, I mean, I am—what I’m trying to say is that I lo—like you a lot.” Damn it.

  Why did she have to be so stilted, so cautious? Trenton’s defection had shaken her faith in her judgment and self-confidence. But in hindsight, she couldn’t blame all her wariness on him. His betrayal had strengthened a natural personality trait.

  “I love you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Thank you.” She cringed. Oh my God. I could not have uttered that! Thank you had to rank among the worst responses one could give.

  Fearing anything else that came out of her mouth would make it worse, she resumed eating her soup.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Inferno hated to lose his talisman. While he credited clairvoyant Mandy Ellison with finding his genmate, he had a strong hunch the rose quartz had helped to soften Geneva’s heart. She had the stone—he’d noticed it in her bungalow—and most likely, the two crystals combined to exude a powerful, irresistible influence. She hadn’t admitted her feelings yet, but she would.

  So, his pendant held great sentimental value.

  It had come to him where and when he’d lost it—the church parking lot when he’d delivered Wanda. There’d been a thunk as he’d gotten out of the vehicle. Probably, it had hit his shoe and bounced under the car. He and Geneva planned to have dinner together, but by then, it would be too dark to search, and she had mentioned in passing that the choir would be practicing in the evening. Better to search the parking lot before it filled up.

  The sole vehicle in the lot, Wanda, was parked near the door. He was about to pull into the drive when Geneva’s ex marched up the sidewalk. What the herian is he doing here? Fire kindling in his gut, he set the scooter down across the street.

  Shaking his head, Trenton sauntered around Wanda. Then, leaning against her fender, he pressed his phone to his ear. With the distance, and the sound-muffling invisibility screen, Inferno couldn’t hear the conversation. Something about the man raised his hackles beyond the fact that Geneva had been married to him. Inferno didn’t trust him.

  Trenton shoved his phone into his pocket, and, moments later, Geneva came out.

  * * * *

  Of course the asshole would drop in while Uncle Mike had been called away to counsel a parishioner in crisis. Better to meet Trenton alone anyway. She had a few choice words for him, and, if she needed to take the Lord’s name in vain, she could.

  “Hey, babe.” He grinned.

  She scowled and anchored her hands on her hips. “Don’t, babe me.” She glanced around. “Where’s your car?”

  “Parked down the street. Couldn’t find a parking spot,” he joked.

  “You got the check?”

  He winced sheepishly. “About that…I got all the way to the 95 offramp and realized I’d left it in my briefcase at the hotel.”

  “I should have guessed.” She folded her arms. “There’s no check, is there?”

  Wariness flitted across his face. “What do you mean?”

  “You lied about escrow closing.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “You caught me. I’m guilty. I confess I used it as an excuse to see you.”

  “I’m going to call the escrow company and reiterate they should mail the check, not give it to you.�
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  “Why are you being this way?” He stared like she was being unreasonable.

  He refused to get the message; she would have to be blunt. “You can’t rekindle ashes. We are divorced. I have moved on. Stop sending me flowers; quit writing me notes. It won’t do you any good. I’m seeing someone, but if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t take you back!”

  His eyebrows arched a fake denial. “I didn’t send you anything.” He cocked his head. “Somebody besides Big Red is sending you roses?”

  Lying sack of shit.

  “How did you know the flowers were roses?” She bared her teeth in a saccharin smile.

  “A guess. They’re your favorite flower.”

  “Shows how much you don’t know.” She glowered. “Don’t contact me anymore. If you don’t cease stalking me, I’ll report you to the sheriff’s department and seek a restraining order.”

  Anger glinted in his eyes before ersatz bewilderment snapped back into place. How many times had she seen him play the innocent during their marriage? A lot, she realized now. Had she ever seen the real Trenton?

  “Our business deal gives me a bona fide reason to contact you. I doubt you could get a restraining order.”

  He was right, which was partly why she hadn’t reported him. “It might not be granted, but the process will put you on the justice department’s radar screen. This is a small town. Everybody knows everybody. They’ll all be watching you,” she fibbed and then realized it was true. Argent protected its own. If the people thought she was in danger, they would circle the wagons. Power and a sense of peace thrummed through her. “Go home, Trenton. Don’t come back again.”

  “You prefer an alien to me?”

  “I’m done.” She dismissed him with a wave and started to march away.

  “Wait, don’t go.” Trenton grabbed her arm and swung her around. She fell against his chest.

  There was a thunderous clap, and the air suddenly reeked of ozone and an electrical odor. Moments later, a flaming man-shaped fireball roared across the parking lot.

  * * * *

  Trenton grabbed Geneva, and Inferno combusted. Suppressed anger exploded, and he burst into flames and streaked across the asphalt toward the poacher who dared to touch his genmate.