Fallen Star (12 page)

“Are any of them female?” She glanced away
from his intense stare, refusing to consider what prompted the
question. Why should she care if one or more of the important
people in his life were female?

He chuckled. “If you really want, I’ll show
you every woman I’ve ever bedded. I’m not ashamed of my sexual
needs.”

“Neither am I,” she insisted, but the claim
sounded defensive and unconvincing. “I’m just not used to having a
man I just met watch me c-come.” She stumbled over the last word,
compounding her humiliation.

He traced a path from her temple to her
chin, his fingertip barely touching her skin. “I think we should
move on or I’ll forget we’re supposed to be working. You already
know more about me than anyone else on Earth. The rest is endless
missions and finding creative ways to combat boredom.”

She was ready to do as he asked, or nearly
ready. One image lingered in the back of her mind, imprinted there
because it had appeared so often in his memories. “Who was she? Is
she still part of your life?”

He didn’t bother with denials or
deflections. They both knew who she meant. “Her name was Cizarro
and no, she’s not part of my life any longer.”

“Was she more than just your lover? The
connection seemed…complex.”

His dark brows arched, accenting the
challenge in his even darker eyes. “I’ll tell you about Cizarro,
but you’ll have to tell me about the men in your past. I suspect
there haven’t been that many.”

She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or
insulted by his conclusion. Had her kisses been that awkward? No
longer comfortable touching him, she drew her hands back into her
lap. All he had to do was look at her with desire in his gaze and
she blushed like a schoolgirl. Of course he thought she was a
sexual novice. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

“There have been three,” she admitted. “And
it’s a deal.”

He acknowledged the bargain with a nod
before he began his tale. “Cizarro was brought in from Bilarri for
the last phase of my training. Head Master Tal knew my true history
and wanted me to explore Bilarrian techniques as well as
Ontarian.”

He’d slept with his teacher. She fought back
a smile. He really was a naughty boy. “Was the attraction mutual or
did she seduce you?”

His laugh was deep and dark, filled with
sensual promise. “You clearly know little about Bilarrian males. I
was the aggressor. She stubbornly resisted my advances for almost a
year before I stopped listening to her excuses.”

Dread washed over her, cooling her
smoldering desire. Surely he didn’t mean he’d forced her. There had
been nothing in his memories that hinted at such cruelty. “On Earth
that’s called date rape.” She watched his reaction closely, hoping
for outrage and disgust. He didn’t disappoint.

He shoved back from her chair and stood. “I
have never forced my attentions on a woman. And after all you have
seen, I find the insinuation insulting.”

She was relieved by his outrage. It felt
completely believable. “Then what did you mean by you stopped
listening to her excuses?”

“They were just that, excuses. She wanted me
every bit as badly as I wanted her. We were consenting adults and I
was no longer willing to allow pointless rules to keep us apart.”
His indignation gradually receded, but he remained on his feet. “We
were together until I finished my training. We tried to be
discreet, but most knew we were lovers. When she was ready to
return to Bilarri, she expected me to go with her. I genuinely
cared for her, but my life was on Ontariese. I suggested a
compromise, but she wasn’t interested in a long-distance
relationship.”

“But you can teleport from planet to planet.
Why did she reject the compromise?”

“Because it was a compromise. She said I
loved my job more than I loved her and she deserved better.” He
slid the ottoman out of the way and knelt on the floor in front of
her, hands resting lightly on her knees. “She was right. I enjoyed
her company, and the sex was great, but she wasn’t my true
mate.”

Just the pressure of his fingers against her
legs had her squirming in the chair. What would it feel like to be
naked and at his mercy? At his mercy? Why would she want to be at
any man’s mercy? “You honestly believe there’s just one woman in
the entire universe predestined to be your mate?”

“Of course not.” He slid his hands a bit
higher on her legs, his gaze boring into hers. “There are any
number of women who are physically and emotionally compatible with
me. My body lets me know when I encounter a potential match so I
can pay more attention to the possibilities.”

She licked her lips and relaxed her leg
muscles, not wanting him to realize how deeply his simple touch was
affecting her. “And how often do you encounter such women?”

“It has never happened—before.” His slight
hesitation changed the meaning of the sentence. He slid his hands
up her legs and grasped her hips as he eased between her knees.
“Your turn,” he whispered. “Tell me about the three fools who let
you get away.”

If she wrapped her arms around his neck and
her legs around his waist, he could carry her into the bedroom. She
already felt breathless and anxious and he hadn’t touched anything
more intimate than her hips.

“Number one,” he prompted. “How old were
you?”

“Sixteen. Typical first time. Awkward,
utterly forgettable.”

He chuckled, apparently pleased by the
confession. “Number two?”

“I met him during my sophomore year in
college. We were much more serious. We even lived together for a
while. But sort of like you, I knew he wasn’t the one and I was
more interested in my career.”

“And number three?” He pulled her closer,
spreading her legs in the process.

“Most entertaining mistake of my life.”

He tilted his head and slid his hands up to
her waist. “Explain.”

She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to wrap
her legs around his hips and rub against his chest. Her core ached
and her nipples tingled, but she’d promised a full accounting. “I
knew he was a womanizer, that he’d quickly lose interest if I gave
in, but I’d never had a man pursue me like that before.”

“You like being pursued?” It was impossible
to miss the underlying question. Would she like being pursued by
him?

She swallowed hard, barely able to remember
what they were talking about. “We—Tori, Angie and I—readily admit
we’re drawn to bad boys. But the qualities that attract us are also
the qualities that keep long-term relationships from working
out.”

“Which qualities are you talking about?” His
hands inched higher, his thumbs teasing her midriff through her
T-shirt. “What makes a man a bad boy in your eyes?”

“Arrogance, not giving a damn about what
anyone else thinks of him, and an affinity with danger.”

His lips curved without parting, his smile
speculative. “Do you consider me a bad boy?”

God yes! He could be the poster model for
bad boys, but her throat was so tight she could only nod.

“Were you right? Did Three lose interest
after you’d shared his bed?”

Just when she was ready for him to cup her
breast and end the teasing game of almost touches, he pulled his
hands away. It was all she could do not to grab his wrist and press
her breast into his palm. “He strung me along until he had his next
conquest in sight. I’m not sure if he actually cheated on me or
not, but he was definitely more interested in the other woman.”

“Who broke it off?”

“I did. That’s the only part of the
relationship I don’t regret.” Unable to bear the smoldering heat of
his eyes, she looked down. He was still too close, but she felt the
absence of his touch even more powerfully than she’d felt the
tantalizing caress. “He was everything my mother warned me about
and more. In fact, they all were in one way or another.”

He curved his index finger beneath her chin
and raised her face until she looked at him again. “All men aren’t
like that. Even bad boys.”

“I know.” She sighed. Their trip down memory
lane had only shined a glaring light on how empty her relationships
had been. She’d always dreamed of a man who could prove her mother
wrong, someone so utterly committed to her that he’d never leave
her side. Or at least never want to.

His fingers brushed the side of her neck
then lightly cupped her shoulder. “You all right? You seem really
sad.”

“Where is all this leading? Why did you let
me see into your mind?” He wanted her and she wanted him. That much
was obvious to both. So why did he keep toying with her? Maybe if
they had sex, she’d be able to concentrate on something other than
Odintar.

“I need your trust and I don’t have time to
earn it in a more conventional way.”

“So distract me again.” Had that breathy,
needful tone actually come out of her?

He accepted the offer with actions rather
than words. In a flash, he lifted her and reversed their positions.
He sat in the chair and brought her down straddling his lap. His
strong fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her
face toward his. Her lips parted, encouraging the bold thrust of
his tongue, but that only incited his aggression.

Catching both wrists, he drew her arms to
the small of her back and secured them there with one of his
long-fingered hands. His free hand returned to her neck, holding
her still as his mouth plundered hers. She wasn’t resisting, but
his hold remained firm, a warning she didn’t quite understand.

His energy barreled across their link and
pushed through her shields. She shivered then moaned, shocked yet
intrigued by the emotions flowing in the wake of his thrust. Desire
blazed, easily recognizable, while fascination, resolve and anxiety
twisted around each other and threaded through the blatant
lust.

Before she could sort through the tangled
mess and figure out what caused each reaction, she felt a sharp
tear. She tried to turn away from the pain, but he held her
securely. Energy gushed from the opening, rushing through her body
and pouring back across their link. She felt as if she were
drowning from the inside. Panic drove rational thoughts from her
mind. She writhed within the surging current, tossed about like a
boat on a raging sea.

Don’t fight it. It won’t harm you.
He
released her arms and pulled her snugly against his chest.
Don’t
be afraid.
His mouth still moved over and against hers, but the
distraction was insufficient now.
Absorb as much of the energy
as you can
.

As if understanding his words, her body
obeyed his directive. She felt the energy being soaked up by her
muscles, organs and tissues. Every molecule inside her suddenly
acted like a thirsty sponge.

Very good.
He pushed his fingers into
her hair as he separated their mouths and waited for her eyes to
focus. “Can you feel what changed?”

“Yes.” It was a little hard to miss. Every
cell in her body felt as if it were vibrating, ready to burst
through her skin and fly away. Her muscles twitched, her skin
tingled, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “But I don’t
understand it. What did you do?”

“I just created an opening and let your true
self out. Can you channel some of the energy across our link or
should I distract you again?”

Even though they’d both enjoyed the kiss,
determining the nature of her abilities was more important. She
gathered a particularly restless wave and used it to saturate their
link. “Is that enough?”

He nodded. “I have a clear reading, but what
I’m sensing is confusing.”

“Confusing how.” She shivered and her hair
blew out around her as if she were standing in front of a fan. “Did
I do that?”

“You did.”

“What does it mean?”

He started to speak then paused. “Remember
the sensation and see if you can recreate it.”

She closed her eyes, tried to feel the burst
of air upon her face and her hair rippling around her again. A cool
current of air swirled around her and she gasped. Her hair danced
in a breeze strong enough to ruffle his hair as well.

“I did it.” She gave him an excited hug, but
he looked concerned not pleased. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. We were just mistaken.
Your father wasn’t Ontarian.” He smoothed her hair back from her
face as he looked into her eyes. “What I’m sensing is elemental
magic, which means your father was either from Rodymia or
Bilarri.”

The door chime announced a visitor and Roxie
Latimer hurried to the front of her shop. She’d opened Unique Ink
three years ago after her appearance on a popular television show
had quadrupled her following overnight. Tattoo artists were a dime
a dozen in Las Vegas, so she was grateful for the exposure. Her two
best friends, and fellow tattoo artists, had gone to lunch
together, leaving Roxie to hold down the fort.

“What can I…” Her visitor turned around and
Roxie’s throat refused to function. Sevrin Keire was always polite
and ridiculously generous, but there was something about her that
terrified Roxie. Perhaps it was the fact that she only appeared
when Roxie was alone. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s
good to see you again, Ms. Keire. What can I do for you?”

Sevrin crossed the room, her stride rolling
yet graceful. Her style of choice was always leather despite the
desert heat. But never biker black or cowboy brown, Sevrin loved
unusual colors. Today’s selection was powder blue with sapphire
stitching and two-tone ankle boots. The skirt skimmed her hips and
accented her narrow waist, while the bolero jacket framed a set of
breasts any stripper would covet. How could she tolerate a leather
jacket when it was at least eighty outside?

“Are my boys keeping you busy?” There was a
salacious undertone to the question, but Sevrin’s sculpted features
revealed nothing.