Fire and Ash (Immortal Touch) (22 page)

“Looks like you could use another drink.”

The offer came from just behind her shoulder, and she turned her head to see a chestnut-maned man of about thirty regarding her with interest. He was wearing way too much cologne and his dark tan looked like an overdone spray-on.

So what are you, the
Piña Colada police?
“One’s my limit. Gotta be at work early tomorrow.” She offered the barest of smiles out of civility, hoping he’d take the hint and try his tired pickup lines on someone else.

“
Working vacation?” he persisted.

“Something like that.”

“I see…well, what do you do, pretty lady?”

“
I rob tourists.”

The man
did a double take, then burst into obnoxious laughter while wagging a reproachful finger. “Oh, you…you’re a handful, aren’t you!”

“That’s what they tell me.”
Thankfully her cell phone interrupted the unwelcome conversation, and when she glimpsed the name of the caller her pulse went into overdrive. It was
him.

Walking
quickly away from the noisy bar so she could hear better, Sami left the over-tanned Don Juan behind.

“Hello?”

“Hello, beautiful.”

Every nerve in her body suddenly jumped to attention.
“Hi.”

“Is that all you have to say to me?”

“Hi…how are you?” What did he expect her to say, for heaven’s sake?
Thanks for a wonderful time, glad I didn’t require stitches…?

He laughed softly.
“Just got in. Thought I’d give you a call and see how you were doing.”

“How I’m doing what?” She
felt irritation creep up within her at the fact that it had taken him this long to call. Where the hell had he been, anyway?

“Whatever it is you’re doing,” he replied without
missing a beat. “Sounds like you’re out by the pool.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“I’d rather you were here with me.”

“
Well…I’m busy.” Maybe everyone else was willing to bow down and kiss his ass, but
she
didn’t intend to.

By the tone of his voice, he wasn’t
exactly thrilled with her response. “I know damn well you’re not busy. Don’t be difficult, Samara. I expect to see you within ten minutes. Do
not
make me come looking for you.”

That d
omineering son of a bitch! “Hold your breath while you wait,” she snapped back, and ended the call with shaking hands. So he
expected
to see her within ten minutes, did he? And she was just supposed to drop everything and run to him like a grateful puppy, wagging her tail.
Ha!
Of course, knowing him he probably
would
have the nerve to come looking for her. Maybe she should make herself scarce for a couple of hours. Now might be a good time to do a little window shopping along the strip.

Or…she could wait here and
find out just how serious he really was. That did seem a much more intriguing alternative. Might be entertaining.

Against her better judgment, she found an empty chair by the pool and settled in
to find out.

Precisely ten minutes later she had her answer
, and it was pretty much what she’d expected.

“
So you want to play games, do you?” Ash knelt before her with his arms resting on her bare legs, looking more amused than angry.

“
I told you I was busy. What are you gonna do, drag me away kicking and screaming?”

“Mm…now there’s a mental image. I love the idea of you kicking and screaming.”

She got the distinct feeling he wasn’t kidding about that. “You would.”

“Surely you didn’t assume you’d be emancipated once your twenty-four hours were up
?”

“I know better than to assume
anything
where you’re concerned!”

“I gave you a few days to recuperate. Now I want you back in my bed.”

“
What?
You can’t…just…”

His hands slid further up her thighs until they
touched the hem of her denim shorts. “Don’t try and pretend you didn’t enjoy it, Sami. You loved every minute of it and not because of the acid. All that did was open your mind to the experience. Can you honestly tell me you don’t want more? That you aren’t dying to know what waits for you at the end?”

She
stared back, wanting to inform him that he was dead wrong but those words weren’t within her grasp. It was no use. She knew as well as he did that they’d both eventually see this through to the end, wherever that might take them.

“I thought not.” The
triumph in his eyes was unmistakable, and immediately served to rekindle her animosity.

“Sorry, Ash, but your bed stays empty tonight.”
The remark was intended to be derisive, but it came out sounding all wrong. Shaky. Uncertain.

“Is that right?” The sapphires bored into her, cold and angry. They refused to release her, and she found it impossible to pull her gaze away from him no matter how hard she tried. The pool behind him shimmered and faded as she grew
strangely sleepy and then he was shaking his head, muttering, “No, it’s no good like that…” and her fatigue passed as quickly as it had come.

Sami put a hand to her forehead, feeling lightheaded. How much
rum did Laiken
put
in that Piña Colada?

“Suit yourself.” Ash
straightened with a resigned sigh. “Go back to your safe, hollow room if that’s what you really want. Curl up in bed with your pride. Sleep with your memories of me.” Abruptly, he leaned forward to graze her lips with the lightest of kisses, causing her to shiver.

“I’ll be waiting upstairs,” he whispered before
strolling away.

Sami watched him go, torn between
the urge to follow him and holding out for the disintegrating scrap of pride she had left. Her fingers flew to her lips and she closed her eyes, knowing good and well that her addiction would allow only one choice. Shaking her head, she murmured underneath her breath, “Dammit, Asher Reid…you don’t play fair.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The gravestone he was leaning against was cold.

As a matter of fact, just being in the cemetery at night was giving Dane a major case of the heebie-jeebies, but
it was Imogen’s idea to meet here so as always he kept his opinions to himself. He wasn’t about to let her see him acting like a spineless wuss. If he had to sit in this desolate, depressing place to keep her happy, then he would. Even if this cemetery did bear an eerie resemblance to the one in that zombie flick he’d watched with his dad a few nights ago. Right about now, he was really wishing he’d passed on that movie in favor of studying.

The bottle of
cheap vodka swiped from her dad’s liquor cabinet was helping some, though.

“Don’t bogart the bottle, ya boozer.”
Her small hand reached for the vodka and she chugged it with gusto. Everything about Imogen was small…she was five feet tall and probably weighed no more than ninety pounds soaking wet. Even so, nobody in their right mind would ever think about messing with her. She might look like a harmless little firecracker, but she packed the wallop of TNT. He knew from experience. The last time he’d tried to put his hand up her shirt she’d slugged him in the gut so hard he came close to puking.

“How do you stand it here?” she
complained, running a hand through her pixie-short black hair. “I feel like I’ve been stuck in jail or something. There’s nothing to
do
here.”

“It’s not that bad. The skiing’s really good, if you like to...
um…” He trailed off when he saw the disgusted look she was giving him.

“Who the fuck wants to go skiing? I
hate my dad - I can’t believe he dragged me here just because I got expelled. As if I was learning a damn thing at that garbage dump of a school anyway…what a douche.” She shook her head and took another gulp from the bottle. “All my connections are back in California - I can’t even find any decent grass. This
blows.
”

“
Will your dad notice this bottle missing?”

“Nah…he’ll think he drank it himself.
So stupid how all of a sudden he wants to play father of the year when he’s ten times worse than I am. Hypocrite.”

It was hard to disagree with that logic. Every time Dane had seen Imogen’s father, he’d been pretty wasted. Hard to imagine growing up in an environment like that. No wonder the girl was always getting
herself into trouble. At least
his
parents were stable and responsible…even if they sometimes liked to stick their noses too deep in his business. His mom in particular…God, how he wished she could find something better to do than hound him all the time.

A gust of wind rushed through the trees, bending their branches to
scrape the tops of the gravestones. He’d never realized before what lonely sounds the wind could make. It was the setting, he supposed…something as simple as a breeze in this creepy place was enough to spook anyone. Just to break the silence he commented, “It’s so quiet out here.”

“Yeah. Until the dead start
clawing their way up outta the ground.” Grinning, Imogen scratched her fingernails down the marble headstone. They made a dry, grating sound. “Then you can hear them moaning. They’re hungry - that’s why they moan. They’re looking for brains to eat.”

“
You
should be safe, then,” he retorted, secretly wishing she would stop talking about dead people coming back. Particularly while they were in a cemetery.

“
I might be, but I bet
you
have a nice juicy one. They love guys with high IQ’s. Their brains taste like…oh, I dunno, T-bone steak or something…”

To shut her up, he kissed her. Or tried to
- she shoved him away before he got very far along.

“Cut it out
! I already told you I don’t see you like that.”

The fatal words. They
cut as deep as
can’t-we-just-be-friends?
or
you’re-more-like-a-brother-to-me.
He’d heard them all before, even from her, but it didn’t stop him from trying in the hope that persistence would eventually pay off. She must like him at least a little or why would she bother hanging out with him? At any rate, this night was a wash…maybe he should sneak back into his room before his parents found out he was gone. Quit while he was ahead.

“I should probably go…I gotta work tomorrow,” he
reminded her.

“So
, what…are you mad at me now?”

“No, I’m not mad
- I just need to get some sleep is all.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad!”

“Then don’t go…stay a while.” Her
hazel eyes were huge in her heart-shaped little face. She was a hard one to say no to.

“Half an hour,” he compromised, reaching for the bottle.

“An hour, tops.”

Always had to have the last word. Sometimes - though he’d never admit it - he got the feeling maybe his parents weren’t as far off about Imogen as he’d originally thought.
She could be manipulative at times. Just two days ago she’d tried to persuade him to lift a carton of cigarettes from work. He hadn’t…mainly because he was too afraid of getting caught. Maybe he really was a wuss, after all.

“
You know what we should do - we should take my dad’s Camaro out one night.”

“And how do you
suggest we do that?”

“Jeez, it wouldn’t be hard or anything - you’ve seen how he gets. I’ll just snag his keys one night
after he’s passed out and we can go someplace that’s like, in
this
century.”

“
You don’t even have your permit yet, much less a license.”

“So?
You have one.”

Great, another one of her
harebrained schemes. “Grand larceny is a felony, just so you know,” he informed her.

“Don’t be
such a little pantywaist, Dane. It’s my dad’s car - we wouldn’t be
stealing
it. We’re bringing it back. Besides, it’s not like he’d ever know. We’d be back long before he woke up.”

“I don’t know. If he found out he’d tell my parents and
then they’d kill me. Literally - they’d kill me. You wanna see me end up dead?”

“Well, then they could bury you out here and I
could come visit you and bring you flowers. I might even help you dig your way out - as long as you promise not to eat my brain.”

“Not enough there to
bother with.” What little she did have was obviously malfunctioning. Did she
want
to get them both arrested?