Claiming Magique: 1 (15 page)

The only place Hunt wanted to do
that was in
Alexa’s
arms. “I’m fine.”

He bounded up the steps to his
building, not slowing down even after he got into his unit. Pacing from room to
room, Hunt turned his phone in his hand. When he couldn’t stand the wait any
longer, he made his call.

It rang three times, then four, then
five.

Crap. Wasn’t she going to
—

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you?” Hunt asked Ronnie.
She sounded sleepy or drugged, possibly both.

“No. Why are you calling? Is
Alexa
all right?”

“She’s fine as far as I know. Does
she run?”

“What? Wait a minute.” Alert now,
she asked, “What do you mean as far as you know? Aren’t you with her?”

“Would I be calling you if I was?
When I left the house a few minutes ago, she was in perfect health, all right?
Does she run?”

“Not that I
know of.
She goes to the gym, but she
doesn’t—”

“I’m not talking about jogging.” He
resumed pacing. “Does she run, leave,
escape
, whatever
you want to call it when she’s scared?”

“Did you frighten her?” Ronnie
snapped.

“You’re joking, right? Of course I
did. She’s scared because she has feelings for me, remember?” He gave her a
G-rated narrative of what had happened at the house.

“Oh.” Her breathing relaxed a bit.
“She doesn’t run. At least I don’t think she will.”

“Where would she go if she did?”

“Want me to call her, see where she
is?”

“Would you?”

“Hold on.”

Hunt went to his wet bar and downed
two bourbons before Ronnie took him off hold. Suddenly, he didn’t want to hear
anything she had to say, and yet he blurted, “What?”

“Relax.
Alexa’s
still at the house.”

Thank you,
god.
“Did she mention me?”

“Only to bitch at me for telling you
about her favorite drink and that champagne flute she’d admired.”

“You admitted to it?”

“Let’s just say I gave her a story
she’d believe so she wouldn’t know how I’m helping you. Why I’m doing that, I
don’t know.”

Smiling, he sagged against the
counter. “Have I thanked you?”

She spoke more softly.
“More times than I can count.”

“Good. I wish you could have been
there when I gave her the flute. She really liked it.”

“She said that?”

“I saw it in her eyes.”

Ronnie laughed. “You two should try
talking sometime. Communicating like the rest of us instead of reading body
language and all that other stuff you do.”

“You’re probably right. She is okay
then.”

“She’s not leaving town. If she
does, you’d just go after her and bring her back, wouldn’t you?”

“If it was
only up to me, damn straight.
But it’s not. She has to want this as much as I.”

Ronnie murmured, “What did you see
in her eyes tonight?”

Submission
and longing.
Fear and caution.
“A whole lot of stuff.
Some good.
Some bad.”

“Then it’s up to you to bring
Alexa
to your side.”

Naked, she sat cross-legged on the
bed, in the dark, holding the drink Hunt had made.

Nearly an hour had passed since
she’d watched him walk away from the house, past Tim’s car. When he’d turned
and glanced up at the windows,
Alexa
had held her
breath, fearing he saw her, pleased that he’d tried.

Tim’s off-key singing had ended the
moment. And then Ronnie had called.

“You’re never going to guess what
happened tonight,”
Alexa
said first. “Hunt was just
here.
Wanting to watch.”

“Really.
Did you let him?”

“No.” She frowned at Ronnie’s
feigned surprise. “You told him about me.”

“I did?”

“Don’t play dumb. He knew I like
Black Velvets.”

Having Ronnie
tell
him that or anything was bad enough. However, having the woman on the line when
Alexa
would have preferred to hear Hunt’s voice was
even worse. Not that he could call without her number, unless Ronnie had given
him that too. “What else did you tell him about me?”

“I haven’t told Hunt anything,”
Ronnie said. “His friends must have informed him about your preference in
liquor.”

Alexa
made a face. “You talked to them about that?”

“They kept insisting on knowing more
about you. I said you like Guinness and champagne, hoping it would get them to
back off. At the very least, I figured it would enhance your evening when they
gave you the drink. By the way, how was your night besides being incredibly
brief?”

She wasn’t ready to get into that.
“You must have also mentioned that champagne flute I’d talked about because I’m
holding it now.”

“Oh no.
Damn. I’m so sorry about that.”

Alexa’s
frown deepened. “Why?”

“I never intended for them to find
it. It was a birthday surprise. I kept it at that house because the tenants are
away and because I know you’re always snooping around my place.”

Alexa
had fallen silent at Ronnie’s accusation. She did snoop,
but only because she feared the woman’s pain was so great she’d horde her
medications and overdose. The thought of losing her made
Alexa
ill.

“What are you doing up so late?” she
murmured. “You should be resting. Why are you calling me?”

“Tim left a message with the
service, saying you cancelled the appointment. I’m not hovering, but I did want
to make certain you’re all right.”

Alexa
took another sip of her drink, licking the rim, wanting it
to be Hunt’s mouth. “I’m okay.”

“Would you like to talk about
anything?”

No. Yes.
Maybe.
She sighed. “Wanting him, liking him frightens me.”

“Who?”

“You know who. Don’t pretend you
don’t, please. I’m trying to have a conversation here.”

“Sorry,” Ronnie hushed. “Did you
ever consider giving Hunt a chance? He won’t be perfect, no one is. But he
might be who you need.”

“You’re who I need.
All that I’ll ever need.”

Ronnie didn’t comment.

Alexa’s
belly clenched. “Are you certain you’re all right? What did
the doctor say the other day? You never told me.”

“I couldn’t. You were out with
Wallace stalking Hunt.”

Alexa
laughed. “I was not.”

“Yeah, you were. And I’m right on
schedule with my treatments. Losing my hair again as they predicted, throwing
up every couple of hours and wishing I were your age again and had the chance
you do with a man who truly wants you.”

Alexa
pressed the flute to her chest. “You don’t know that. He
doesn’t really, not in the way you’re thinking. It’s just lust.
A game.”

“You said he showed up tonight even
though you’ve refused to book another evening with him. I bet he wasn’t there
to watch or even to participate, was he?”

Give me one night,
he’d whispered.
You and me.

She’d retreated and he’d followed.
He’d told her he’d leave if that’s what she wanted. He’d allowed himself to be
vulnerable, putting everything on the line in front of his friends. What guy did
that? Unless he already knew she wouldn’t be able to refuse him.

“Don’t throw away what you can have
with Hunt,” Ronnie said. “At least give him a chance before you do.”

That was a foregone conclusion. As
much as
Alexa
wanted to run, she couldn’t. She needed
to see Hunt one last time, knowing it would be their final farewell. There was
no other choice. A relationship between them would never work. She was too
damaged, unable to trust. He deserved better, proving that earlier with how
he’d behaved. A better woman would have simply lied and told him to leave and
not come back.
To find someone else.

Alexa
wasn’t that person. She needed one last night with him to
indulge in his scent, caress,
body
.

How screwed up was that? She sighed.
“Do you want me to come over? Keep you company? I’d be happy to. You know that,
right?”

“I’m fine, sweetie. The chemo’s
working. The tumor hasn’t come back. I need to sleep. You should do the same.”

Reluctantly,
Alexa
had said goodbye.

She finished her drink now and lay
on the bed, recalling Hunt’s promise that he’d show her the time of her life,
one on one, no other man taking her, yet they wouldn’t be alone. So who would
be there if it wasn’t David and Tim?

What could Hunt be planning?

Alexa
cupped her breasts, squeezing them as he would, thumbing
her nipples. She spread her legs and touched her unappeased pussy. By now, Tim
and David should have used it well, allowing her to drift off, leaving behind
tomorrow’s concerns…whether Ronnie’s recovery would lead to a full remission.
How long it would take her to get over Hunt.

She ran her fingers up and down her
cleft, her opening already slick with mounting desire, her clit
uber
sensitive. Rubbing herself, she made a noise somewhere
between a whimper and a growl, her mind picturing Hunt’s hands and mouth on
her, his big body hot, hard, imprisoning her against the mattress.

Her welcoming
it.

I won’t hurt you,
he’d said.

Not deliberately, that wasn’t in his
nature. He’d protected his mom against men twice his size. He respected women.

He’d given her an out tonight, even
as he continued to pursue her.

Say yes
.

Gritting her teeth,
Alexa
lifted her chin to the ceiling and tried to stave off
her climax. Even after she stopped rubbing her clit, the sensations persisted,
the orgasm unstoppable.

She rolled over, drawing her arms
and legs into a fetal position, trying to protect herself.

From what?

No. She didn’t want to think about
it. She refused to do anything but relax.

Twice more,
Alexa
masturbated before sleep came. Even as it did, she kept wondering what her last
evening with Hunt would bring.

The days leading up to their final
encounter were endless and filled with too much anticipation.

Early on,
Alexa
had learned that was a bad thing. Looking forward to something was always far
sweeter than the actual event. Take Christmas for example, especially when
she’d been in school. Months before the holiday, she’d dreamed of snow
blanketing the city outside her parents’ New York penthouse, a fragrant tree taking
up most of the family room, its lights blinking merrily, her mother and father
anxious to wake her so she could tear into her gifts. In her fantasies, she’d
seen dozens of them, wrapped in sparkling red foil, decorated with velvet green
ribbons, each containing something she’d coveted or the latest stuff all the
other girls talked about and just had to have.

For the most part, her gifts arrived
at the boarding schools she’d attended along with a note from her parents that
they’d be unavailable during the holidays but would call her on Christmas Day.
Year after year, she’d complained, finally threatening to run away from school
if she couldn’t come home. To
Alexa’s
surprise, her
father caved when she’d been twelve. His chauffeur met her at the airport. The
housekeeper and her young daughter welcomed
Alexa
at
the penthouse and snapped picture after picture of her opening a pile of gifts.

None of the ribbons was green
velvet. Not one of the presents wrapped in red foil. The jewelry, clothes and
electronics cost more than many families made in a year, but they weren’t what
she’d asked for or truly wanted.
Time with her mother and
father, their attention and love.
She gave the presents to the
housekeeper’s little girl.

Alexa’s
parents never came by, not even for a moment. They called
shortly before midnight, the sounds of laughter and music in the background.
Her father was drunk, her mother anxious to get back to whoever had put her
into such a good mood. The next day,
Alexa
booked a
flight, finding her own way back to a school she’d soon be expelled from. On
the plane, she realized something else. It hadn’t snowed.