Page 12

Adrianne stopped the truck in front of the house and turned off the ignition. It had taken them longer than anticipated to get home. They’d stopped at Ivy House, where Sam had settled his bill and collected his few belongings.

Then she decided a trip to the grocery store was in order. When she’d purchased food yesterday, she hadn’t anticipated feeding another person, let alone a man Sam’s size.

I can’t believe he’s here.

And she’d agreed to it. Somehow, between when she woke this morning and now, she’d acquired a roommate—a sexy, handsome one.

“Second thoughts?” They were both sitting in the cab, neither having made a move to leave.

Second, third and fourth. “It all happened so fast.” Which wasn’t a yes or a no, but it was the truth.

“It’s your call.”

If she said the word, he’d grab his bag and walk away. Then she’d be alone. While she’d never been a coward, she didn’t want to be out here by herself. “I said I’d give it a try and I will, as long as you’re sure. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Bad enough her own life was on the line without putting his there.

“I’m sure.” He climbed out of the truck and grabbed his coat and bag. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll get the groceries once I dump this stuff.”

Ignoring his instructions, she jumped out, reached into the truck bed, and pulled out a couple bags.

“Stubborn,” he muttered.

She snorted as she walked up the steps. “Glass houses and rocks.”

His lips twitched. “You saying I’m stubborn?”

“If the shoe fits.” Chester raced out to greet her, rubbing up against her legs. “Hey, big guy. Sorry to be gone so long.” On her way to the kitchen, she canted her head toward the hall. “Take the room on the left.”

Alone, she dumped the bags on the counter and picked up the cat, cuddling him against her. “What have I done?” Chester butted his head against her chin. She rubbed behind his ears, eliciting a loud purr.

She was living with a man. Okay, maybe not in the traditional sense, but it was the first time she’d ever shared her space with someone other than family. While she’d dated over the years, things had always ended before they’d gotten serious enough to contemplate living together.

It was oddly comforting to hear another person in the background. The house had been strangely silent since she’d returned. Growing up, it had been filled with life and love. Her granny always had the radio tuned to a country music station. Grandpa would walk in the door from work, sweep her into his arms, and dance her around the room. The walls echoed with the laughter of the years. She’d been spun in his strong arms many times, safe and warm and loved.

“What are you thinking?” Sam stood, an unreadable expression on his face, and studied her. She hadn’t heard him come down the hall.

“Remembering better days.” After setting Chester down, she began to unpack one of the grocery sacks. “You should bring in the rest of the food before it cooks in the heat.”

Taking the hint, he headed outside.

“Get it together.” She opened the refrigerator and let the cool air flow over her. Her reasons for hesitating to take him up on his offer were valid. Her concern over his safety was legit, but equally worrying was her attraction to him. The raw truth was, she wanted him, plain and simple.

Talk about complicating an already complicated situation. The way he’d touched her on several occasions, the heated glances he’d given her, indicated he might be experiencing the same attraction.

He wouldn’t act on it.

It was odd how she knew that to be true, but she did. Most men would use the situation and her vulnerability as an opportunity to get closer. He would view it as taking advantage. Despite his wealth and worldliness, there was something almost gallant about him. It was odd, but the old-fashioned word suited.

No, if anything was going to happen between them, she’d have to be the one to make the first move. Starting something with Sam wasn’t smart. He wouldn’t be sticking around Redemption any longer than it took to work things out with his father. That’s what makes him perfect , a tiny voice whispered. Sam was doing her a favor, she reminded herself, putting himself in danger to protect her. This was not the time to be thinking about taking a lover.

“Where do you want these?”

The object of her musings was loaded down with the rest of the bags. “Right here.” She moved out of the way so he could set them on the counter. It was a tight space. Their bodies brushed against each other. Her awareness of him skyrocketed.

For goodness’ sake, don’t jump the man.

Her sex drive had been on hiatus for what seemed like forever. It had picked one hell of a time to reassert itself.

There was a list of psychological reasons to explain the phenomenon—forced proximity, heightened danger, the fact that he was handsome and…temporary. She read romance books and watched movies. It was easy enough to figure out, but that assessment had one problem.

There’d been plenty of handsome men in and out of her life since she’d become an adult. She’d had her share of dates and lovers, but not one of them had made her fingers tingle to touch him, made her want to toss all common sense out the window and do something crazy. That was all Sam.

If she’d picked up another man yesterday morning—it was crazy such a short time had passed—he’d be long gone, and she’d be alone. Samael Blackwell was special.

“Penny for your thoughts.” While she’d been daydreaming, he’d emptied the bags onto the counter.

She shook herself. No way would she ever admit it. “Too cheap. They’re worth more than that.”

“Do tell.” His eyes did that thing they did where his pupils and irises became one.

She mimed zipping her lips and concentrated on putting away the groceries. “I need to check the field and spend some time in the shop.” There were likely orders piled up. “I can’t afford to get behind.”

And she needed to leave the house before she did something stupid, like drag him to the bedroom. Work was the obvious choice. Not only would it keep her mind and body occupied, but she still had to make a living. Whether she was in danger or not, the bills weren’t going to stop coming.

Unfazed by the abrupt change of topics, he swept out his arm. “Lead the way. I promised to help with the chores.”

Sidling past, so their bodies didn’t touch, she grabbed a Chicago White Sox baseball hat on the way out the door and jammed it on her head. Outside, she paused and took a deep breath of the fragrant air. The familiar scent and the peace of the land enveloped her. The heat seeped into her skin. This place was worth fighting for. Her stalker had tainted it with his presence, but she wouldn’t let it linger.

She’d run from here once, wanting the big city lights and everything they had to offer. Now her goal was to make the farm a success to honor her granny while reclaiming the pieces of herself she’d carelessly tossed away a decade before.

What had happened to the young girl who’d run wild in the woods, sketched nonstop, and made up stories in her head to go along with the pictures? There’d been a time she’d considered art school but had opted to be practical and take business courses.

She’d reclaimed that part of herself—or was attempting to. The small selection of cards she sold in her online store didn’t exactly amount to an art career, but making them was feeding her passion while allowing her to add to her income. She might never be famous or have her work in a gallery, but she was okay with that.

Sam stood beside her, his gaze locked on the field before them. He didn’t ask questions or become impatient but remained silent and steady while she was lost in her thoughts. What would it be like if this were real? If they were an average couple sharing a life and a dream?

Talk about a fantasy. No way could a man like him be satisfied with the simple life she’d come to crave and love. Work, she reminded herself. “I need to check the lavender plants.” She strode to the field and began to walk down the row between long lines of plants, stopping to check the occasional one.

“Do they need to be watered?”

“They’re surprisingly hardy once they’re established. Once or twice a week is good. Overwatering is the problem. The harvest is done for the season. There’s a chance of a second one late next month, depending on weather conditions, but I’m not counting on it. Now it’s about making sure the plants are healthy.”

It had been a hot summer. Still was. She glanced at his bare arms and head. “You need a hat and sunscreen or you’re going to burn.” She should have thought about that.

“I’m fine.” He scanned the surrounding woods, his gaze constantly moving. “I live in Vegas, remember?”

“You live in a hotel in Vegas and do business there. That’s not the same as working outside.” Although the deep shade of his skin indicated he spent time in the sun, likely sitting by a pool sipping a cool drink or swimming with some bikini-clad beauty. Either that or it was his natural hue. “I have sunscreen inside. It’s on the bathroom shelf. You should get some.” And give her a few minutes to pull herself together.

“What about you?” He ran a finger down the slope of her shoulder all the way to her elbow. Goose bumps rose on her skin. She’d never realized her upper arm could be an erogenous zone. She fought the urge to hunch her shoulders as her nipples pebbled, pressing hard against the sports bra she wore beneath her tank top. “Adrianne?”

“What?” What had they been talking about? It was impossible to breathe, let alone think, with him this close. He was so big and solid, his scent a combination of hot male and citrus, likely from the soap he’d used to shower. It was…delicious. She wanted to bury her face in his chest and inhale.

“What about you? Your skin is fair.” He dragged his finger back up her arm before taking a step back. “Do you need sunscreen?”

Dizzy from the combination of heat and arousal, she shook her head. “I spray it on every morning when I get dressed and reapply throughout the day.”

His mouth tightened and the muscles in his arms flexed. Like her, he was fighting the attraction between them. That was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. Why, then, did it feel so wrong?

She tugged the brim of her hat lower and cleared her throat. Failing to find something witty to say, she decided the best thing to do was ignore the sexual attraction. “Let’s start in the farthest end of the field and work our way back.” Without waiting for agreement, she set out at a brisk pace, praying the physical activity would allow her to get her wayward body under control.

…

Hours later, Sam’s respect for Adrianne had hiked up another notch. The woman was tireless, walking up and down every row, stopping to check on the health of the plants. He had no idea how much went into growing them, but it seemed to him there was more work than one person could easily handle.

After proclaiming she’d water tomorrow, they’d headed to the drying shed and processing area. She’d apparently already turned the bulk of the harvested lavender into oil, which she’d used to create soap and candles to stock her online store. Today was all about checking for online orders and packaging them for shipping. Under her guidance, he’d helped box a dozen orders. It was followed by the nitty-gritty paperwork that all small businesses had to contend with.

Surprisingly, he’d enjoyed working alongside her. Her quiet pleasure when he’d praised the artwork on the cards had stirred unwanted emotions in his heart. Other than when he exercised or trained with weapons, his world had become all about boardrooms and computers. This harkened back to an earlier time, likely another reason why his father had picked Adrianne for this assignment.

He’d stayed alert but had caught no scent or sound beyond the birds and animals that roamed the woods. Wherever her stalker was, he wasn’t here. Not today.

“I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite.” She locked the shop behind her and headed to the house.

“I could eat.” His stomach chose that moment to growl.

“Far cry from how you normally spend your days, I imagine.” The grin she shot him showed no tinge of worry. Being outside had been good for her. Her stride was looser, her muscles more relaxed.

“I haven’t had a day like this in a long time.” It wasn’t the physical labor, it was spending hours on end with someone he genuinely liked, someone he wasn’t attempting to wheel and deal with. He couldn’t say he didn’t want anything from her, because he did. He wanted her help to get his life back.

All she had to do to assist him was die.

His mood soured, he yanked open the back door and held it for her. She pulled off her ball cap and hung it on the peg by the door and raked a hand through her hair. “It’s too hot to turn on the stove. How about burgers on the grill? I bought some potato salad at the grocery store that would round it out.”

“That’s fine.” He hadn’t meant to snap his reply, but seeing her so alive, her joy at the thought of a simple meal, brought home how soon it would all end for her. Talk about being a selfish bastard. He should be encouraging her happiness, not bringing her down. It was up to him to deal with his own baggage.

“You okay?” Her smile had turned into a frown. The cat jumped down from his perch on the bench in the dining area and padded over, distracting her. “Hey, Chester. How was your day? I bet you’ve been busy watching the world go by between naps.”

Great going, Sam. Way to kill the mood. “I’m good. What can I do to help?”

She searched his face for a long minute, then shrugged. “Can you grill?”

A slow smile spread over his face. “Yes, I can grill.” He’d spent thousands of years cooking over an open fire.

“Big talk.” She pulled a package of ground beef and an onion out of the refrigerator before pulling down bottles of spices from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Intrigued, he poked at the spice bottles.

“Making hamburger patties.”

“You form meat into rounds and toss them on the grill.”

Her mouth dropped and then snapped closed. “There’s a little more to it than that. I bet you buy premade or frozen. Wait, scratch that, you probably dine at a restaurant. Am I right?”

It irked him that she was. He hadn’t cooked a meal for himself in decades. There seemed little point to go to the trouble. It was easier to order room service. Or eat out. Less lonely, too. Ignoring the voice in his head, he went to the sink to wash his hands. “Show me what to do.”

Taking him at his word, she talked him through the process of slicing and chopping onion. Some were for topping the burger; the rest was added to the meat along with spices, an egg, breadcrumbs, and a splash of milk. “Really, milk?”

“Trust me. You’ll love them.” She formed the last of the meat into a patty and added it to the plate with the others. “You go fire up the grill.”

With a shrug, he left her to finish up preparations. However they tasted, he’d eat them, because she’d made them for him.

The gas grill looked fairly new and took no time to ignite. As he waited for it to heat, he inhaled the evening air. It was still warm but no longer blazing hot. Soon the calendar would turn and September would roll in. Not long after that the temperatures would dip as autumn snuck in, changing the surrounding forest to a blaze of colors.

Neither of them would be here to see it.

He rubbed his chest to ease the tightness. Whatever happened, he’d return. He’d make certain her family legacy didn’t deteriorate. It was the least he could do. Empathy and compassion, he reminded himself. Not involvement.

He snorted and shook his head. “Too late for that,” he muttered.

“Too late for what?” Using her hip to push open the screen door, she stepped out, the tray of patties in her hands.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.” He had to watch himself. Adrianne was no fool. Last thing he wanted or needed was for her to become suspicious. “Let me take these.” He grabbed the tray and took it to the grill.

It was a revelation to cook burgers while they chatted of inconsequential things, like their favorite movie. “That’s a tough one. If I must pick one movie, it’s The Crow with Brandon Lee,” Adrianne said as she finished putting the last plate on the small patio table. Everything else was laid out and waiting.

After checking the hamburgers and deciding they were done, he piled them onto a clean plate and added the buns he’d lightly toasted. “I’m not familiar with that one.”

“It’s about a musician and the woman he’s going to marry. They’re murdered, and a year later, he returns from the dead to bring the murderers to justice.” She leaned her elbows on the table and sighed. “It’s dark and gritty and violent, but the underlying theme is that real love lasts, real love is forever.”

He set the plate on the table and took the seat opposite her. “You know that doesn’t happen, right? There’s no coming back.” Death was final. There was reincarnation, but that was different. It was an entirely new lifetime.

She popped a patty onto a bun, topped it with a slice of tomato and onion, and added condiments. “It’s a movie, Sam. And in the end, he goes back to the land of the dead and joins his lost love. It’s a beautiful thing. What’s your favorite movie?” She took a bite, closed her eyes, and moaned. “Perfect.”

Good thing he was sitting. His dick sprang to life as her moan shot straight to his balls. The way she licked her lips had him grabbing his drink and taking a long swallow. There was something incredibly sensual about the innocent reaction to the food—food he’d cooked for her. Primal satisfaction shot through him, far out of proportion to the action. It wasn’t as though he’d hunted and butchered the cow. Although he had shopped with her.

Billions of people around the world ate together every day. While he primarily ate alone, over the millennia he’d shared an untold number of meals with business associates—pharaohs and kings and back-alley merchants in possession of information he required—and potential lovers. But this was the first time he’d shopped, cooked, and then shared a meal with a woman.

After all he’d done and witnessed in his long life, he’d believed there wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen or experienced. This simple spread, offered freely, the genuinely good company, the special woman, topped them all.

“Sam?” There was a half smile on her lips and a dot of ketchup on the corner of her mouth. He reached across the table, rubbed at the spot with his thumb, brought it back to his mouth, and licked it clean.

Her eyes glazed over for a split second before she shook herself. “Burgers are messy.” She grabbed a napkin and rubbed it over her lips. “Your favorite movie?”

Disciplined was the word most used to describe him, other than cold and unfeeling , but around her, he floundered to keep himself in check. “ Lord of the Rings trilogy.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought that.”

How did she see him? “I enjoy the fantasy, the exotic worlds, the complexity and growth of the characters.” Curious, he had to ask. “What did you think it would be?”

“A classic like Casablanca , or maybe a spy thriller.”

“I enjoy those, too, but you asked my favorite.” The advent of movies had opened the world to people. It was another example of human ingenuity, which he admired and took advantage of.

The sun was lowering by the time they finished their coffee and took the dishes inside. They’d talked for hours, the conversation easy. While Adrianne had strong opinions, she was open to other points of view, even conceding a few to him. He felt more alive and invigorated than he’d been in a very long time. “That was delicious.” He set the pile of plates and cutlery on the counter.

“I was right, wasn’t I? About the burgers?”

“You were.” He’d give her that. “They were delicious.” Maybe it was the seasoning and the way she’d made the patties, or maybe it had to do with the company. His business rivals would never believe it if they saw him loading a dishwasher while Adrianne put out fresh food and water for the cat. It was homey and domestic.

When her body brushed against his for the dozenth time in the small space, the walls began to close in around him. The scent of her soap mixed with sunshine, sunscreen, and the natural perfume of warm woman went straight to his groin. His jeans were too snug, his shirt too tight. He tossed the dishcloth in the sink and made his escape. “I’m going to have a walk around before I turn in.”

The screen door slammed shut behind him. Welcoming the slightly cooler air, he stalked off toward the woods, sensing her gaze on him through the window. When he reached the tree line, he slipped into the shadows and leaned against the trunk of a large oak.

“Damn it.” He leaned his head back and rubbed his forehead. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to touch her. He wanted to stroke her dewy skin, peel off her clothes, and worship every inch of her body. “It’s just sex.” He’d been in a sexual drought for the past… Good God, it had been twelve months. An entire year. “No wonder I’m on edge.” He’d hoped to work up enough enthusiasm for the sexy real estate agent, Charmaine, but the dinner had never happened.

Pushing away from the tree, he slipped through the darkness as easily as the other nighttime predators. The animals went silent as he passed, sensing his presence. The first order of business when he was done here was to get laid.

Every muscle in his body clenched in protest. Some dark instinct stirred. He didn’t want another woman. He wanted Adrianne. The one woman he couldn’t, the one he shouldn’t have.

While there was no hard-and-fast rule against him taking her to bed, he’d never slept with a woman whose soul he’d have to reap. It seemed wrong on so many levels. It would be taking advantage of her situation, her vulnerability, to satisfy his own desires. Especially when there was no doubt as to how their short-lived relationship would end.

Not even he was that much of a bastard.

Knowing it was the right thing to do didn’t ease the longing burning within him.

Two hours later, he’d lost count of the number of times he’d circled the property. All was quiet, at least outside. Steeling himself, he went up the porch steps and into the house. The only light on was the one over the stove in the kitchen. Adrianne was curled up on the sofa with a sketchbook in her lap but closed it before he could see what she was working on. She stood when he entered. It was impossible to read her expression.

“Everything is secure,” he said reassuringly.

Giving a nod, she headed down the hallway to her room. “Lock up.” As her bedroom door closed, he heard her whisper, “Good night.”

The cat glared at him from the chair before turning his head away.

Sam turned the lock on the door and headed to the guest room. It was going to be a long night.