Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance) (8 page)

"So what happened yesterday?"

"Simply, your energy was so low there was none for me to steal."

Clare leaned back into her pillows and mulled over his words. "I guess thieves don't rob an empty safe."

"Exactly."

That meant she could not touch him again. She'd only known him a couple of days and that really shouldn't matter, but it did. She wanted to touch him now, to reach out and grasp his hand, feel those long, tapered fingers slide across her palm as they had yesterday. How awful for the poor man to never have physical contact with others. He could never have a proper relationship, never share intimacy, except he could touch the Spaniard.

Her gaze moved to Pablo and he met her silent inquiry with a brief smile. She'd thought Luka was the boss and Pablo the assistant, but in a flash of insight she realized that Pablo had a lot of control in the relationship. Luka's health and possibly his very survival depended on the Spaniard.

"What makes Pablo immune to the energy drain?"

The two men glanced at each other, the look heavy with meaning. "The person who summoned me did something to make Pablo safe." While Luka spoke, Pablo placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Can't you repeat the process on others, whatever it was?"

Luka shrugged in a way that told her they'd tried and failed.

"I'm sorry."

It Luka could only touch Pablo, that certainly explained the men's special relationship. She wondered how close the relationship was, then pushed the thought away. That was none of her business.

Clare pleated the sheet between her fingers. "So, we can't touch again?" She lifted her gaze to Luka, her pulse tripping. This shouldn't matter as much as it did.

"Not unless your psychic energy is severely depleted as it was yesterday. For the good of your health, I hope that doesn't happen again." Yet the flash of longing in his eyes belied his words.

There was something between them, something she wanted to explore further. And it looked like he felt the same way.

***

Luka sat on the terrace overlooking his English rose garden as the sun sank behind the weeping willows along the River Cher. Refreshed by the gentle breeze that stirred to life at dusk, he sipped his wine. The view was divine, one of his favorites, and this could well be the last time he enjoyed it before he returned to Taldom.

His resolve to return home and face his family was still strong, but he could not deny a certain reluctance to leave since he'd met Clare. She was a beautiful woman, yet it was not that which drew him to her so much as her character. She had a kind nature and was strong without being pushy. Touching her was something he would not soon forget. His dreams last night had been filled with sensual fantasies.

The distinctive rap of Pablo's heels approached from the château behind him.

"
Salut
," Luka said, as Pablo placed his laptop on the ornate metal table between the chairs.

"You sound relaxed." Pablo ran his hands through Luka's hair, styling it with his fingers.

Luka froze, fighting his instinct to pull away. Monique had devised a wicked scenario, leaving him dependent for survival on a man who wanted so much more than Luka was willing to give. She'd taken delight in watching him squirm. It wouldn't surprise him if the witch had purposely set it up so Clare was the only person who could send him home. What better way to torment him further than with a beautiful woman he could never have.

"You are attracted to Clare Moray," Pablo said, as if reading his mind.

It was a statement, not a question. Anyway, it was pointless denying the obvious. Luka shrugged. "So are you."

Pablo's fingers trailed down Luka's neck and around his collar. "I would rather have you."

When Pablo's hand slid onto Luka's chest, he gently grasped his friend's wrist and pushed him away as he'd done countless times before.

With a long-suffering sigh, Pablo strolled to the edge of the terrace. The golden glow of the setting sun gilded the Spaniard's lean frame. Luka knew he should apologize, but after so long together every platitude had been said. Words never lessened the pain.

Out of a sense of obligation, Luka allowed Pablo little intimacies. But it felt like lying, to Pablo and himself. Touching Clare yesterday had stirred Luka's real needs and emotions and made his relationship with Pablo even more of a strain.

He closed his eyes against the rush of frustration. "If only there were a way to break this damn curse that binds us."

"You want the Moray woman rather than me." Pablo swung around, his cheeks flushed with emotion.

"That's not what I said." But it was what he'd been thinking. Pablo knew him too well.

"She'll hurt you, Luka."

"No. She won't." Because nothing would come of it. "Now let's drop the subject."

Pablo ambled closer, shoulders slumped with dejection. He dropped into the chair at Luka's side. "Please let me come to Taldom with you."

This had been an ongoing bone of contention. When Luka left, Pablo could have all his wealth and property, but all he wanted was to accompany Luka through the portal. Luka couldn't guarantee Pablo's safety, but he didn't have the strength to keep arguing about it.

"Very well."

"Really!" Pablo's expression morphed into a grin and he clasped Luka's arm. "You'll not be sorry,
amigo
. I'll continue to serve you in any way I can."

Luka summoned a smile and hoped he had not just condemned his friend to a miserable future.

***

Clare slept twenty-four hours straight. She didn't believe it until she found Madame Rousseau in the kitchen on Saturday morning and realized a whole day and night had passed since her conversation with Luka.

At the mention of Luka's name, the old woman pointed her towards a door that led to a stable yard. A young man in stained jeans set aside his broom and beckoned her to follow him. He led Clare through the formal garden of brightly colored flowerbeds bordered by neatly clipped box hedges. They reached a dusty lane and he stabbed his finger towards a vineyard. "Mr. Vlad is there. You walk."

"
Merci
." Clare saw Luka and another man among the rows of vines.

She raised her arm and shouted his name.

He turned, the light glinting off his sunglasses. He lifted a hand in recognition, exchanged a few more words with his companion, then walked towards her. Clare set off to meet him, enjoying the fragrance of the fruit-laden vines around her.

"You look well this morning," Luka offered as he approached. "The rest has refreshed you, yes?"

"I've never slept so long before." She shaded her eyes and smiled up at him. He stood with a casual elegance, debonair in a jacket, slacks, and open-necked shirt. The sun picked up chestnut highlights in his hair as his bitter chocolate gaze swept over her with approval. His natural air of nobility suited the opulent splendor of the château. In the more earthy setting of the field, he appeared out of place.

"Would you like to walk?" He pointed towards the river that meandered along the bottom of the valley. "It's shady along the riverbank."

As he lowered his arm, the sunlight picked up a nasty scar on his palm. "What happened to your hand?"

He pushed the hand in his trouser pocket. "It looks worse than it was. Now, shall we go?"

Clare followed him down the gentle slope, admiring the easy swing of his stride and the way his trousers hugged his backside. She'd felt the firm contours of lean muscles when he'd picked her up in Scotland. How she'd love to see him without his shirt and maybe even his pants. She smiled to herself.

Then her smile faded. For a moment she'd forgotten she couldn't touch him again. The longer she spent with him, the more she wanted to.

They reached the river and walked side by side along the grassy path beneath the trees. A companionable silence settled between them. She was comfortable with him, despite everything that had happened.

For a few minutes she simply enjoyed the morning sun, the rushing sound of the water, and the gentle breeze. But she had to remember why she'd come here and get back to business. "I have some more questions for you."

Luka pointed to a wooden bench, shaded beneath the trailing branches of a willow. "Let's sit, then."

They settled on the bench. Luka stretched out his legs, his long, lean body so close she could touch him if she reached out her hand. She fought the almost irresistible urge, like a child who'd been burned, but was tempted to put her fingers in the pretty flame again.

"You said that the Taldom's blood I need for my products comes from that place through the portal. I assume that means you can pass through the portal and get it for me."

He angled his head and glanced her way. "You'll have what you need, Clare. In return, I requested your help, remember."

"I remember. You haven't told me what you want me to do, though."

"You might think my request is strange."

Clare laughed. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be strange. But fire away. I still need to know."

His fist clenched against his thigh, then he flattened his hand as if consciously relaxing. "I want you to send me back to Taldom."

"Hang on. I thought you just told me you could go back through the portal. Isn't that how you were going to get my herb?"

"You assumed that. And Taldom's blood isn't an herb, Clare. I told you what it was the other night at dinner."

Clare frowned, casting her mind back to that strange evening. Her memory was still fuzzy. "You're going to have to tell me again."

He dragged out a sigh and stared at the river for a moment. "The secret ingredient your grandmother used is my blood."

"Your what? You can't be serious."

His grim expression told her he was.

"Oh, yuck." Clare winced. They'd been putting blood in Moray toiletries. How had her grandmother managed that without getting caught by the regulators? She supposed by the time the blood had been diluted to homeopathic strength it was difficult to identify. But then Luka wasn't human, so perhaps his blood was unlike human blood. Her gaze fixed on his skin. It was a normal color, as if red blood ran through his veins.

Clare raised a hand to her temple and rubbed as a cocktail of emotions and tangled thoughts spun through her brain. She couldn't continue to use blood in the company products. It just wasn't ethical. "Hell," she whispered.

"Not what you expected, I imagine."

"Not really. I'd thought, worst case scenario that Taldom's blood was an illegal substance."

"I have no objection to giving you some of my blood if you help me return to Taldom."

Clare waved a distracted hand. "Look, I'll do what I can to help you, but we'll have to reformulate our product. I won't continue to put blood in our face cream."

She turned to him, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "How is it your blood has rejuvenation properties?"

He shrugged. "Monique discovered the effect."

"Why did she even have a sample of your blood?"

Luka's dark gaze bored into her, then he looked away. "Do you know how you managed to pass through the portal?"

The sudden change of subject threw her for a second. She contemplated pushing him on the blood issue, but he obviously didn't want to discuss it.

The silence between them that had earlier been comfortable took on a tense air. "No idea. I saw an image through the portal and it seemed to suck me in."

"No matter. I'm sure you can work out how it happened with a little research. I have an extensive collection of arcane texts to help you."

"So that's what you want me to do, read up on how to pass through the portal and send you through?"

"Exactly."

"Couldn't you do the research yourself?"

"It takes special skills to control the portal. Only a few have the talent."

Clare laughed. "I assure you I don't have special skills like that."

Luka eyed her with curiosity. "Can you deny you passed into Taldom?"

"Of course not. But the portal just took me. If I'd had any control over the process, I wouldn't have gone."