Touch of Temptation (8 page)

With more than a little doubt in her tone, she asked, “And you trust him?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “With my life.”

“And he’s good to Jamie?”

“Noah spoils her almost as much as I do.”

The slow, sexy smile that accompanied his words was too gorgeous to resist, so she didn’t even try. “Well, if Jamie likes you guys, then I guess you’re both okay.”

“Like?” he scoffed. “That kid adores us. Me especially. She cries like a banshee every time I leave the house.”

“Okay, okay, I’m convinced,” she said, holding up her hands. “You and Noah are saints. And Aiden, too, for making my sister happy. He does make her happy, right?”

“If he made her any happier,” he drawled, “we’d have to soundproof their whole floor, instead of just their room.”

Chloe blushed, but she laughed, too. And it felt…good. “I miss this,” she sighed, propping her shoulders against the wall at her back.

“What?”

“Laughing.”

Sounding strangely fascinated, he asked, “What else do you miss?”

She thought about it for a moment, staring through the bars of the cell again, then said, “Being warm. At night, this place gets so cold, and the fire doesn’t give off enough heat.”

“I’d give you my bedding,” he rasped, “if I had any.”

She swung her gaze back to his, her eyes wide with anger. “They didn’t even give you a blanket?”

“Nah, but I stay warm.”

Chloe started to argue, then recalled the fever-hot warmth of his body when he’d been plastered against her, and realized that was true. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

“So tell me what else you miss.” His voice was mellow, his eyes sliding closed as he leaned his head back, the shadowed bruises on his face only intensifying his rugged masculinity, rather than detracting from it. “I like listening to you talk.”

“Um, well, I guess I miss caramel macchiatos from my local Starbucks and my iPod and my Wii.” Wistfully, she added, “I had almost reached professional status in snowboarding with my friend Cara.”

He laughed, the rich, rumbling sound making her toes curl. “Who’s Cara?”

“She’s a friend from college, and a Boudreaux witch. Her specialty is beauty spells.”

He cracked an eye open. “She put any on you?”

“Only a hair removal spell. Thanks to Cara, I no longer have to buy razor blades.”

“I wondered how you kept them so smooth,” he murmured, running his warm gaze over her crossed legs.

“I would have asked her for a boob job,” she added lightly, “but she could never manage anything smaller than double Ds, and I was worried about retaining my ability to stand upright if I went for it.”

He snorted, then surprised her by saying, “I’m glad you didn’t change your body. It’s perfect the way it is.”

“Uh, thanks,” she whispered, her face burning.

“You’re welcome,” he offered in a soft voice, his mouth twitching with another one of those boyish, lopsided grins, as if he knew just how easily his words affected her.

“So, um, what do
you
miss?” she asked, toying with one of the buttons on her shirt.

Rolling a shoulder, he said, “Not much. I haven’t been here near as long as you have.”

“No, but with a war going on, I doubt your life has been the same as it was before. So tell me what you miss from back then.”

“I guess I miss playing football with my friends in Colorado,” he told her, after thinking about it for a few moments. “I miss Ade’s pecan waffles and the sound of him playing piano. Hell, I even miss Kierland’s lecturing and the Buchanans, and getting my ass kicked whenever I play video games with Quinn.”

“You’re very close to the guys in your unit, aren’t you? I mean, they’re like your family.”

Dryly, he said, “We sure as hell fight like one.”

“And you all live together, right?”

With a nod, he lifted his head, saying, “We have a compound in Colorado called Ravenswing, but for safety, we had to make a quick move to England. Now we’re staying at an estate in the Lake District called Harrow House, where Kierland and I were raised by our grandfather.”

“What’s it like?”

He turned one of his hands over, studying the lines on his palm, lost in thought. Eventually, he blew out a rough breath and said, “It’s beautiful, even though it was abandoned for a long time, since neither of us wanted anything to do with it after the old guy passed away. But we’re getting the place back in shape. There’s a helluva lot of space, if you need it. But, you never feel alone, and no matter how grim things get there’s always a lot of laughter filling its rooms.”

“I’m glad Jamie and Olivia have that. Since our parents died, it’s been hard. And now with Monica gone, they must have felt so alone.”

“Well, they’re sure as hell not alone any longer. And the same goes for you, Chloe. Once we’re out of here, you’ll have a home there, same as they do.”

With the back of her wrist, she swiped at the tears in her eyes, and decided it was time to get him out of there, before her emotions…or her hunger…got the better of her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Scott, but you look like you could use some more sleep.”

“Mr. Scott?” His forehead creased with a scowl. “Christ, don’t call me that. It’s not only ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but it makes me feel old.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re older than I am.”

“Barely, Chloe.” His dry tone made it clear he thought she was being absurd.

“Really? Wow, I would have put you into your mid-thirties, at least.”

He kept those gorgeous blue-green eyes locked on her face, then slowly arched one arrogant brow. “You’re messing with me, right?”

Fighting back a grin, she guessed, “Thirty-four? Thirty-five?”

“I’m twenty-six,” he forced through his clenched teeth, then paused for a moment, and muttered, “What’s the date today?”

Thinking about it for a minute, she said, “I think it’s the first tomorrow.”

“Shit. That’s my birthday. Which makes me twenty-seven. But that’s still not old.”

A second little shrug of her shoulders, just to mess
with him. “And I’m twenty-four. But in terms of experience, you’re aeons older than I am.”

His eyes narrowed to hot, glittering slits. “What does
that
mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

Coughing, he kind of choked out, “You’re talking about sex, right?” Before she could respond, he shook his head and added, “But I’m not buying it. No way in hell are you still a virgin. Not someone who…
looks
like you.”

“Thanks…I think,” she murmured, wondering if he’d been thinking
acts
instead of
looks
. Not that she could blame him, since she
had
been all over the guy. “And no, I’m not a virgin. I have experience.”

He muttered a heartfelt, “Thank God,” scrubbed his hands down his face, then asked a deeply personal question. “How much experience are we talking about?”

Her eyes went wide. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you
that?
”

Without any trace of their previous lighthearted banter, he said, “Because I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“Me, Kellan. You’re dealing with
me
.”

He just stared, waiting, and she growled with frustration. “God, you are so stubborn. There’s been one, okay!”

“Just
one?
” He sounded as if she’d just admitted an unforgivable sin. “Did you date him for a long time, then?”

“I didn’t date him at all,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. “He wasn’t a boyfriend. He was more of a…well, he’s my best friend.
Was
my best friend.”

“Was? What happened?”

With a roll of her shoulder and a sigh, she said, “Long, boring story.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He leaned his head back again, stretching his long legs out before him, and made a
give me more
motion with his hand. “So start spilling.”

Chloe thought about telling him to bug off—to eff off!—but knew he was too stubborn to listen. Just wanting to get it over with, she stared down at her lap, and grudgingly gave him the condensed version. “His name is Pete and I’ve known him since middle school. I had hoped that our friendship might act as a buffer to the curse, which had never really been an issue for us, so we went to bed together. I was eighteen and tired of being a virgin, and being part Fae, Pete liked sex enough to indulge me,” she explained, pulling her blanket into her lap, her fingers plucking at its frayed edges. “But the friendship didn’t buffer anything, and after a few times, he started acting…differently.”

She watched him from the corner of her eye as he frowned. “So you rocked his world in the sack, and it changed the way he felt about you?”

“I hardly rocked his world,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t experienced, which means I was probably pretty sucky at the whole thing.” Agitation roughened her voice. “But whatever enjoyment Pete
did
get out of the act, the curse…well, it blew it out of proportion.”

“Ahh. So what did he do?”

Keeping her voice as matter-of-fact as possible, she said, “Since his mother was Fae, she’d heard about the curse. When his parents realized how obsessive he was becoming, they convinced him to leave town. Pete
moved to Seattle, met a woman and they got married. They eventually moved back home to Kentucky, but his wife didn’t really want him to hang around me anymore. Not that I blame her. I haven’t seen him in almost three years now.”

“That sucks.” He sounded pissed, as if he could tell how much the whole situation had hurt her.

“Yeah, it did,” she sighed. “But I’ve gotten over it.”

“His loss,” he muttered.

Chloe didn’t know what to say to that, so she stayed silent. The whole screwup with Pete was just another pathetic episode in her long list of socially awkward moments, and it would hardly be the last.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “Just the one? You never gave another guy a chance?”

Dryly, she said, “After what happened with Pete, I wasn’t too keen to ever try it again.”

“That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

“Hardly,” she told him, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “I grew up watching Monica go through one screwed-up relationship after another, and I promised myself I wouldn’t do the same thing. I’d thought things might be different with Pete, because we’d been friends for so long, but I was wrong. And if things got so weird with someone I knew so well, imagine how awkward it would have been with someone I didn’t know. Plus, we have a really crappy reputation among the other witch clans. They call us the Mallory Manipulators. And though I don’t really give a damn what other people say, I’ve always sworn that I wouldn’t ever do anything to prove those judgmental bitches right.”

There was, however, one good thing that had come
from the experience. Although she and Pete hadn’t exactly set the sheets on fire, Chloe had experienced enough pleasure to believe that the kind of passion written about in romance books could actually exist. To know that it wasn’t all just words on a page. All a bunch of overrated hype. With the right partner, she had no doubt that sex could be explosive. Even life changing.

Just imagine what sex with a guy like Kellan would be like.

She scowled, knowing damn well that it was the Merrick who’d whispered that dangerous thought in her mind.

“Stop it,” she whispered back too tense to find humor in the fact that she was talking to herself.

But the damage had already been done, because now she couldn’t
stop
thinking about it.

Without a doubt, Chloe knew that Kellan Scott was a male who’d been made for pleasure. It practically oozed from his freaking pores, his scent like a mating pheromone, designed to make women plead for his touch. That was how she felt, right at that moment, something primal and wild in her fighting against the woman who was always so cautious and careful.

“It’s a strange curse.” His voice was low. “Can you tell me how it happened?”

“I can tell you what I’ve heard, though with the way stories get embellished over time, there’s no telling how much truth is in it. But according to legend, there was a Mallory witch who fell in love with a married man. He didn’t love his wife, who was a powerful sorceress, and had actually been tricked into marrying her. When the sorceress learned of his undying love for the witch, she cursed the young woman’s bloodline, the punishment
designed to make it difficult for others to ever be near her.”

He cursed under his breath. “So it’s meant to make you live your life alone?”

Chloe nodded, studying the coarse weave of the blanket as it stretched over her knees. “And it’s damn effective. We have serious trust issues, and we’re too exhausting for most men. That’s why Jamie’s father bailed on Monica. He couldn’t handle the way everything was always so over-the-top when he was around her.”

“And there’s nothing that can…stop it?”

Breath-filled silence, the only sound that of the crackling fire, and then she slowly replied, “It’s said that the curse will eventually come to a natural end, but my ancestors have been waiting hundreds of years, and there’s been no sign of the curse weakening. But some say…”

“What?”

Her voice was soft. “If you believe in fairy tales, some say that true love can bring peace to a Mallory’s life. That it’s too powerful for the curse to tamper with.”

“Do you believe that?”

Is it my imagination,
she thought,
or has his voice grown huskier?

“Chloe?”

Clearing her throat, she lifted her gaze from the provocative shape of his mouth, staring into those hypnotic eyes, and somehow managed to say, “I probably wouldn’t, if I hadn’t seen how things were between my mother and Olivia’s father. He didn’t worship her because of the curse, but he…he loved her. Madly. And it was a healthy love, with ups and downs and the usual disagreements. One that was strong enough to beat that bitch-sorceress’s curse into submission.”

Gently, he said, “Sounds like they were pretty amazing.”

“They were. It nearly killed us when we lost them.” Though she’d tried to keep her voice steady, it cracked there at the end.