The Charmer

Chapter 21

She rubbed the edge of the table with her thumb. What would he say first? That she’d made a fool of herself last night? That she ought to be nicer to Wiley? “What if I promised you I wouldn’t cause any trouble if you agreed to take me home?”

His eyes glinted dangerously. Her scent was making him feel aggressive. He needed to touch her. “I’d tell you to stop sulking.” In a lightning fast maneuver, he snaked his hand around her waist and pulled her roughly up to him. She pushed against him, but was no match for his large, battle-toned body.

Giving her nowhere to run, he voiced a suspicion that budded in his mind while watching her drink more than was good for her. “Admit it, you’re jealous of Rihlia.”

She struggled, but he wouldn’t give an inch. “Wiley is my friend! I’ve never been jealous of her in my life.” She grunted, twisted, but his arm was a rigid restraint. With a strangled shriek of rage, she aimed a bite at his shoulder, but he seized her hair and imprisoned her head.

“Admit it!” His nostrils flared as his eyes shot sparks at her. A hot tremor shot through him, but they both ignored it. “You...are...jealous!” He’d spent another sleepless night alone, thinking of her, and he was not about to back down until they’d dealt with this. Maybe then he’d get some peace.

Furious at her restraint and battered by emotions she could no longer contain, she shouted back, “All right! I’m jealous, ok? I’ve never been more jealous in my life.” At her admission, his arm relaxed. She took every inch of distance he offered.

As her words registered, shame filled her. Her hands curled into fists, clutching his shirt, and her head slowly bowed. “I love her like a sister and I’ve never wanted to outrun her so badly in my life. God help me.” Blood pounded in her ears, and she felt lower than low. Hah! Some friend she was.

“She needs you, you know.”

She nodded and tried to keep the moisture burning her eyes inside. The last thing she wanted was his pity.

Almost reluctantly, he separated their charged bodies and led her over to the living area. He chose a velvet armchair and sat down, tugging her down to sit in front of him. With gentle hands he massaged her shoulders.

She sighed, an aching kind of sigh, and let her eyelids drift shut. “Why are you being so nice?”

His voice, when it finally came, was husky, and it sent little firecrackers off up and down her nerves. “I’m not being nearly as nice as I’d like to be, but I’m trying to behave.” His thumbs eased up to work the knots out of her neck. “Fallon would think I’m a fool.”

She angled her neck to give him better access. “What’s he got to do with it?”

“He’s a determined man. Don’t underestimate him. Just when you think you’ve driven him off, he’ll come back and surprise you.”

She tensed, and his fingers pressed more firmly into the bunched muscles. “I don’t know why he bothers.”

“I told you, you’re a charmer.” He was matter-of-fact, as if the topic were as unremarkable as the dawn rising in the eastern sky. “He couldn’t do anything else.”

She frowned. “It doesn’t seem to be bothering you.”

His hands tightened on her shoulders. He turned her around until she was kneeling in front of him. Taking her hand, he put it on his warm erection, holding it there when she would have jerked back in surprise.

He held her gaze. “I’m a man of action, of discipline. The Haunt follow my orders, and sometimes lives depend on my making hard decisions and keeping a level head.” His hard length burned into her palm. Her fingers curled around it.

“I won’t be led around by a woman, or by anything else.” He pressed her hand more firmly to him and held her eyes for a moment while he got bigger, and harder.

Then he stood up and walked away.

***

Keilor set the empty tray down on the table while Rihlia watched him with anxious eyes. “She ate.”

Rihlia sank down in a wing chair. A new concern filled her face and he shook his head, guessing its source. “Give her until morning. I think you’ll find her in better spirits and more pleased with company.”

The unhappiness didn’t leave her face as she twisted the end of a long black lock. She touched the silver hair ornament holding her hair up and off her face as if she wanted to remove it and then dropped her hand. “She never drinks so much, Keilor. Last night was hard for her.”

He tilted his head slightly. “It was hard for you as well, but I don’t see you sulking.”

She grimaced and slouched in her chair. “I need to, I think. I just haven’t had the chance.” She raised troubled eyes. “I don’t remember her at all. My mother, I mean. She looks at me with such hunger, and all I want to do is push her away. I feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong; what kind of person doesn’t love her mother? Then I get angry because she makes me feel that way, and it starts all over again.”

He nodded, just listening, and she went on. “And then there’s Jayems.” She smiled without humor. “Do you know he told me I was everything he ever wanted in a wife? How could he say something like that? He hardly knows me.”

Keilor’s smile held real humor. “Love does not take long among our kind; we know.”

She leaned back and looked at him skeptically. “Love, Keilor? I think you’re getting it confused with...no, don’t shake your head. You know I’m right.”

He sat down on the couch so she wouldn’t have to look up at him. “Cousin, I’ve known Jayems all his life and seen him with more than his share of women.” She scowled at him, but he went on, “Never once have I seen in his eyes what they hold for you.”

She clasped her hands over her stomach and stared at her knees. “I don’t know what I feel for him.” She frowned. “I don’t want to have to feel anything at all.” There was silence for a moment. “Speaking of feelings, what are you doing to my friend?”

He blinked. “Nothing.”

“I know better than that.” She folded her arms and her foot started tapping. “There’s something going on between you two. Every time you’re in the same room the air starts crackling.”

Best to cut this inquiry at the quick. He threw an arm over the back of the couch and adopted a nonchalant expression. “Your friend is a charmer, cousin. If I show s****l interest in her, it’s no more than can be expected of any man in the room. You’ll have noticed Fallon was no different.”