That had his radar screaming at him to proceed with caution. He wasn’t looking to get serious about a woman. Any woman. Not even one as seemingly special as Rhiannon. It wasn’t anything personal. It was just that he didn’t want to settle down and get married. After seeing the hell his father had gone through with his mother, he wasn’t in any hurry to allow any woman to get that close to him.
He’d be cautious and let Rhiannon know the score. Then it would be up to her whether they slept together or not. That way she couldn’t cry foul at some point down the road. Feeling more confident and in control of the situation, Ryland reached for the bell again. Before he could ring it, the door slowly opened and Rhiannon was standing there with a smile of greeting on her lips.
His heart stopped for a brief second and then began pounding. His entire body clenched with need and he was filled with the almost overwhelming urge to toss her over his shoulder and carrying her off to bed. Now. Immediately. He felt primal and hot and dangerous.
Tonight she was dressed more casually in jeans and a sweater. But there was nothing casual about the way she made him feel. The jeans hugged the curve of her hips and the soft black sweater clung to her breasts like a second skin. His fingers itched to touch them.
He caught a whiff of her soap. The flowery scent made his cock twitch and Ryland knew he’d always associate that particular perfume with Rhiannon. Her lips were slicked with red, making them appear even more kissable, and curved into a smile of welcome.
“Hi.” Her soft voice broke the silence between them.
He held out a bottle of wine. “Hi, yourself. I brought this to go with dinner.”
She opened the door wider. “Come on in and make yourself at home. I was just finishing getting dressed.”
He handed her the bottle of wine, took off his coat and hung it on one of several hooks by the front door. Rhiannon headed down the short hallway and he followed close behind, admiring the way her jeans cupped her heart-shaped ass.
They passed a small living room that looked comfortable and inviting and stepped into an open kitchen and dining room area. The smell of spices and tomatoes coming from the stove made his stomach growl. She set the bottle of wine on the counter, dug through a drawer and drew out a corkscrew. “You can open the wine while I finish getting ready.”
“You look fine to me.” She looked better than fine. He was already fully erect, his cock straining at the front of his jeans. He’d worn jeans and boots, but had donned a gray dress shirt, wanting to be casual, but not too casual.
Pink bloomed on her cheeks and he could tell his words had embarrassed her. “Thanks. That’s Abigail.”
He whirled around, surprised he’d missed seeing another person in the room. Disappointment filled him. He’d wanted Rhiannon to himself tonight, but he wasn’t shocked she’d invited someone else to join them. After all, they’d just met and he was virtually a stranger.
It took him a moment to realize there was no one there, and then he saw the cat perched on the low windowsill in the dining area. Her green eyes studied him with an intensity that was almost unnerving. He stared back, not blinking. Finally the cat dipped her head and started to purr.
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” Before he could reply, Rhiannon hurried out of the room and down a short hallway that had to lead to her bedroom. His entire body clenched at the thought that her bed was a mere few steps away.
Shaking himself, he walked toward the cat. He wanted Rhiannon, but he didn’t want to rush her and frighten her away. Deep in his gut, he knew this was a woman worth waiting for.
Reaching out slowly, he let the cat sniff his hand. When she was satisfied, she butted her head against him. Taking the hint, he began to scratch behind her ears. “Hi, Abigail.” She meowed again and purred harder. “I hope your mistress will give me the opportunity to make her purr with pleasure.” As he continued to pet the cat, he looked around the room, curious about Rhiannon’s home.
A large oak cabinet dominated one wall of the dining area. The doors were carved with symbols and it appeared to be an antique. Chairs that were mismatched, yet somehow seemed to go together, surrounded a trestle table. A wind chime made of pewter stars and moons graced the window that was also filled with sun catchers of various designs. The windowsill had several large chunks of stone. If he wasn’t mistaken, one was an amethyst and another was quartz. He had no idea what the yellow one was. Orange candles graced the table, but a lone red one sat in the center.
The kitchen was homey and inviting as well. It opened into the dining area, the two spaces separated only by a counter. The kitchen windowsill was covered in pots of herbs that scented the air. The counters were surprisingly clutter free, but there were heavy glass canisters covered in suns and moons against one wall, with a coffeepot next to them. A large green glass ball hung in the center of the window in a macramé holder. He imagined it would pick up the light in the daytime and look quite spectacular.
It was obvious that Rhiannon used a lot of the items she sold in her store. He’d noticed the chimes, candles, rocks and the like in the shop yesterday morning.
He sensed her behind him. A slight rustle of clothing and a whiff of her floral soap. He turned slowly, taking in the sight of her framed in the doorway. He’d thought her a fairy the first time he’d seen her. She captivated him more than any other woman he’d ever met. It was as if she’d cast some sort of spell over him, bewitching him.
“Are you some kind of a witch?”
Rhiannon felt all the blood draining from her face and her body swayed. Ryland sprang forward, his large hands wrapping around her shoulders, holding her upright.
“Are you all right? You look kind of pale. Maybe you should sit down.” He urged her over to one of the dining room chairs and she sat.
“Why would you ask such a thing?” Her mind was whirling. Had he discovered her secret? Had the words painted on the front of the store made him dig deeper into her past?
“Because you’re pale and you looked as if you might keel over.”
She stared at him, trying to understand his words. It took her a few moments to realize he thought she was asking about his second question, not his first one. She waved him away, a deep calm descending around her. Maybe it was better to get things out in the open now. Too many times in her life, she’d put off the inevitable and it had ended in disaster. If he was going to laugh at her, scorn her or leave, better he do it now than later.
“That’s not what I meant.”
He pulled up a chair and sat facing her. “What did you mean?” He leaned closer to her, his expression intent.
“Why did you ask me if I was some kind of witch?”
His lips turned up slowly, making her insides go weak. Damn, the man was handsome, especially when he smiled. It reached his eyes, making them sparkle.
“I’m not sure I should answer that.”
She could tell he meant to tease her, but this was too serious for her to take lightly. She waited patiently.
His smile faded and he became serious when he realized she wasn’t laughing with him. “Why did I call you a witch? Because I felt as if you’ve enchanted me, bewitched me from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m drawn to you.” He raked his fingers through his short blond hair in frustration. “I can’t explain it. I just feel it.”
The bottom dropped out of Rhiannon’s stomach. Maybe the candle ritual had worked too well. Maybe Gwen had cast a spell without telling her. Either way, this was wrong. She realized she didn’t want Ryland to be attracted to her due to some kind of outside influence. She wanted him to want her for herself. Now she’d never know if it could or would have happened that way. “You need to leave.”
He straightened slowly, every muscle in his body tensing. He was large and menacing and all but a stranger, yet she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. She knew he’d never harm her. Her magick might be suspect sometimes, but she trusted her instincts. The only times she hadn’t—like with her ex-boyfriends—she got hurt.
“Why? You owe me that much.”
“Because I
am
a witch and I cast a spell two nights ago to bring me a lover.”
He stared at her and then threw back his head and began to laugh. The booming sound filled the space. He shook his head as he looked back at her. “I thought you were serious there for a second.”
“I am.” There was no humor to her words. Each one was a death knell to what could have been, but wouldn’t be. She wanted Ryland, but not like this. Not when he felt compelled by magick. For once in her life, she wanted to be wanted for herself, because she was simply who she was—a woman with love to give. She should never have performed the spell with Esther and Maggie.
“You’re a witch?”
She could hear the skepticism in his voice and wanted to cringe. Instead, she straightened her spine and met his gaze. “Yes. I come from a long line of witches.”
“Prove it.”
She frowned at him, annoyance creeping in. “I don’t do parlor tricks.”
“And I don’t believe in witches.” He took a deep breath and raked a hand through his hair again. “Look, I can respect the fact that you have different beliefs and think…” he hesitated briefly before continuing, “…you’re a witch.”
Ryland got up from the chair and walked to the window, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “This is crazy. I didn’t even really mean anything by it. I want you.” He whirled around to face her. “That’s physical pure and simple. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that. It isn’t any more complicated than that.”
Rhiannon stared at him, knowing he didn’t believe her. Not many did. And when they did, they had one of three reactions: they were scared of her, they wanted to use her, or in rare cases, they accepted her. She had a feeling Ryland would be different. If he truly believed, he’d probably just walk out the door and never come back.
Her heart hurt at the thought, which made no sense at all. She’d just met him yesterday morning. He wasn’t really part of her life at all. Yet the thought of him turning his back and walking out the door left her feeling cold and bereft. This might be her only night to be with him. And rightly or wrongly, that’s what she wanted.
“Are you going or staying?” She’d laid her cards on the table. It was his decision from here on in.
“Staying.” His voice was firm, his word final.
Ryland ate the pasta supper Rhiannon put in front of him. He was sure it must be delicious, but he didn’t really taste any of it. He ate by rote, chewing and swallowing each bite.
He’d thought for sure she was going to boot his ass to the front door earlier and every cell in his body rebelled at the thought of leaving her. Not that he believed for one second she was really a witch. There was no such thing. Ryland believed in what he could see and touch and reason. Spells and witchcraft did not fall under the realm of the believable. Not for him.
Maybe she thought herself a witch. She certainly looked fey. Maybe it was an act to help business or maybe she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic and truly believed it.
His stomach clenched. He didn’t want to believe that. Didn’t want to have to deal with the implications. Maybe he was more like his father than he thought. The first woman to really test his resolve to not get seriously involved was possibly a nutcase, at the very least a bit of a flake.
He studied her bent head as she ate in silence, scrutinizing the strong, yet delicate profile of her cheek and jaw. No, he assured himself. He was a good judge of character. He had to be in his line of work. Rhiannon was intelligent and definitely sane. For whatever reason, she’d felt compelled to tell him she was a witch.
Normally, he’d have walked away without even bothering to sit down to supper. The last thing he needed in his life was a woman with delusions. He’d seen too much of that growing up, been through too many screaming emotional scenes with his mother. He liked his life calm and uncluttered both physically and emotionally, and he had a feeling that not only would Rhiannon clutter up his life, but she would be anything but calm. There was something about her that told him she would shake up his ordered existence if he let her in.
Still, he couldn’t walk away from her. She was like a fever in his blood and he had to have her. The more time he spent with her, the more she intrigued him.
Several of the guys at the station knew her or knew of her, and they’d been more than eager to talk about her when they’d heard about the incident at her store yesterday morning. They all thought she was hot, which had made his hackles rise. He’d wanted to punch several of them in the face, but had managed to control the impulse. He’d just met her and already he was jealous over her, not wanting other men to talk about her. It was crazy.
But the overriding consensus was that she didn’t date and was, by all accounts, a really nice woman. She participated in community events and was well liked. Ryland sensed there was much more to her than met the eye and suddenly he was very impatient to discover all her secrets.
Pushing back his plate, he contemplated what to do next. “That was delicious.” Even though he’d barely tasted it, he knew that statement was true.
“Thanks.” She put down her fork and he noted she hadn’t eaten much, but had mostly pushed her food around her plate.
“I didn’t mean to upset you earlier.” And he truly hadn’t. The fact that she was distressed over what he’d said was bothering him to no end. “You didn’t eat much,” he added gently.
“Not hungry, I guess.” She gave him a forced smile.
Neither of them had touched the wine he’d opened. He’d eaten, but he hadn’t really enjoyed his meal and she hadn’t eaten at all. “This is ridiculous.” Rising from the table, he held out his hand.
She stared at it for the longest time, so long in fact that he began to worry. Then, as if coming to some internal decision, she placed her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, he felt a thrum of energy pulsing through his veins. His hand closed over hers, holding it tight as he tugged her to her feet.
“I want you.” There was no hiding the desire and barely suppressed passion in his voice and he didn’t try to. She needed to know just how badly he wanted her. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship. You need to understand that before this goes any further.”