Marked by Passion (15 page)

"Of course you do, love."

The bastard. I reached up to pull down the good scotch, poured him a couple fingers, and slid the glass toward him. I frowned at the amused glint in his eyes, but T didn't back down. Trying not to get distracted by his roguish scar, I watched him take a sip.

God, he had a nice neck. I remembered his scent and wondered how he'd smell right there at the crook. Just as spicy and hot as I remembered, I bet, plus a hint of naughty.

"Join me?" He waved to the dark table in the corner.

"Yeah." I ducked under the bar and followed him.

There was already someone sitting there, hidden by the shadows. Rhys looked at him and arched an eyebrow. Sputtering nervously, the man collected his drink and scurried to another seat.

Unbuttoning his expensive suit coat, Rhys held out my chair and calmly settled next to me as if he hadn't just intimidated someone out of their seat.

Mentally girding my loins, I leaned closer so he'd hear my low voice over the din. "Tell me what you meant by
the energy."

"Coy doesn't suit you, love. You know bloody well what I meant."

How did he know about the scroll? Or that I had it? I looked for anything in his gaze that would tell me he was playing me, but it was totally direct. "How did you know?"

The corner of his mouth hitched, but this time there wasn't a trace of amusement on his face. "Because I'm a Guardian, as well."

W
ait a sec." I shook my head to clear it. "I think I heard you wrong. I could have sworn you said you're a Guardian."

Rhys arched an eyebrow. "Five scrolls, five families. You have one, which means four others are floating around the world."

"Yeah, but
you
aren't floating around the world. You're here." I frowned. "Where's your mark?"

"Will you show me yours?" His gaze dipped down my body.

My damn birthmark tingled. I put my hand over it, mentally telling it to shut up. "I'm asking for proof."

"Is that what you're asking for?" His eyes on me, he angled his body to block us from the room at large, slipped his tie loose, and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

My entire body flushed at his slow striptease, but I kept my gaze steady. I refused to show weakness.

God, I wanted to reach out and help him undress.

I swallowed thickly as he pulled one side of the shirt open to bare his chest. Lightly sprinkled with dark hair and surprisingly defined for a suit. But from manual labor, not the gym—I could tell from the shape and tone of his muscles. Faint scars scored his tanned skin—if this was another era, I would have thought his definition came from swordplay. He certainly had the build of a warrior.

I frowned. That messed with my image of him.

"Satisfied?"

Not until I could run my hands over him. But then I realized he was asking about the mark. I looked closer and saw it—a brown, broadsword-shaped mark right over his heart. Somehow I was positive that it'd be hot to the touch.

Not wanting to give in to temptation, I sat on my hands. "How did you find me?
Why
did you find me?"

"Does it matter?" He leaned forward. "If I can help you control it, do you really care?"

If I could control
tu ch’i,
I could paint again. But, yeah, I did care, because how did I know he wasn't a baddie who wanted to take the scroll when my back was turned? He himself said he collected things. I didn't want the scroll, but I didn't want the wrong person to get it, either.

He must have known I was going to protest, because he reached for my hand and put it right over his mark. It scalded my palm, pulsing between us for a split second before the energy surged inside me. I gasped, feeling his power mingle with mine, limitless and bright. Just as suddenly, it receded, leaving me bereft and longing for something I couldn't name.

"Which scroll?'" I whispered.

His voice was as husky as mine. "Fire."

Figured. Heat radiated from him. I knew I should pull away, but I couldn't, instead giving in to the compulsion to trace it with my fingertips.

He shivered, his eyes burning, and he pressed me harder against him. "You feel the energy under your skin, constantly pulsing. Compelling you to use it. The strain of holding it in makes you feel as though you're going to alternately explode or go mad. You look over your shoulder, always expecting someone to attack you for what you hold. All the while, you wonder if today is that day you slip up and kill someone yet again."

Blink. I couldn't say a word, trapped in the fire of his eyes.
He knew.

"I can help you, Gabrielle." He lifted my hand to his lips. His breath warmed me clear to my toes and back. "Let me help you."

My body wavered toward him, but I still had the presence of mind to say, "What's in this for you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," I repeated flatly. "You used God knows what kind of resources to find me, and you want to help me from the kindness of your heart?"

"I do." He flipped my hand over and kissed my wrist.

I felt the gentle flick of his tongue on my sensitive skin and almost jumped out of my skin. If he felt like this on my wrist, imagine what he'd feel like if he kissed—

Stop that,
I commanded myself. He was doing this on purpose to distract me into submission. "No good. You'll have to define the terms better."

"There are no terms."

"That's what worries me. Obviously I have something you want." I leaned in until our lips almost touched. "Bad."

His gaze dropped to my lips before returning to my eyes. "And you believe I'll do anything to get it?"

"Yes." Risky, being this close to him. Even his scent was seriously drugging.

He rested his hand and mine over my heart this time, which beat hard and fast. I wanted to tell him my mark was lower, but I wasn't sure having his hand down there was wise, especially in public. "Perhaps you're the one who will agree to anything."

Before I could answer, his lips claimed mine. Hot and searing, I felt the kiss all through my body. My hand gripped his shoulder for balance, and I curled into the heat of it. He flattened his palm over my nipple, and I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

Rhys growled and somehow turned up the intensity so all I could think and feel was him. His free hand tangled in my hair, as if he was afraid I'd pull away before he could finish branding me. As if he wanted to mark me.

Like the myth had marked me.

Dangerous. I was playing with fire, and I didn't have an extinguisher big enough to douse this. Panting, I pushed him away. "I can't do this, especially at work."

He scanned my face. I thought he was going to protest, but he just asked, "How do you feel?"

"Huh?"

"Tell me how you feel."

Tingly and turned on beyond belief. But I wasn't going to admit that to him. "Good."

"And your head?"

My headache was gone. In fact,
tu ch’i
was the least intruding it'd been ever. I scowled at him. "What did you do?"

"Since fire is energy, I'm adept at giving and taking it." The corner of his mouth kicked up. "One of my many talents."

"Right." If only I had useful talents. The only thing I'd managed to do so far was register on the Richter scale. He let go of me slowly, like he didn't want to, and re-buttoned his shirt. "Call me when you're ready."

Torn, I watched him walk away before I went back behind the bar.

If I called Rhys, I'd owe him. And when he called in the marker—I had no doubt he would—it wouldn't be something like dog sitting or washing his car. He'd want something big. Bigger than sex—he probably knew he could get me in his bed without having any hold over me.

It'd be good, too.

"Hot." Carrie came to stand next to me, an empty beer bottle in her hand. "I almost went up in flames when he took his shirt off."

"He just unbuttoned it a little," I corrected weakly.

"Thank goodness, because I'm not sure the sprinkler system in here could handle that kind of heat." She grinned knowingly at me. "Better hope you can."

Didn't I know it. I had the sneaking suspicion I was in real danger of getting burned.

I
should have been excited that it was Sunday—I was having dinner with Paul tonight—but instead I woke up in the early afternoon feeling like I'd wrestled a two-hundred-pound python all night.

Any relief I'd felt from whatever Rhys did to stifle the effects of
tu ch’i
were long gone. In fact, it'd come back with a vengeance My entire body ached from the strain of repressing the energy. Worse: I had a terrible hangover from it. My heat throbbed with every breath I took.

On top of it all, I felt paranoid. Rhys's blue eyes had followed me in my dreams for the past three nights. My gut told me there was a lot he wasn't telling me.

I was freaked out enough to want to talk to Wu. Yeah, that was saying something.

Not sure how to get him to show up, I took the direct approach: I stood in the middle of my living room and yelled for him. "Wu! Wu, I'm feeling an earthquake coming on."

"Tu ch’i
is nothing to joke about, Gabrielle," he said from behind me.

I whirled around to find him drifting cross-legged over my futon. "Jeez. Stop sneaking up on me like that."

He raised one arrogant eyebrow. "Are you ready to begin your training in earnest?"

"No," I said just to see his expression sour. I really needed to grow up one day soon. "What do you know about the other scrolls?"

The glower on his face cleared.
"One scroll for each element,"
he recited.
"Earth, fire
—"

"That's not what I'm asking." I rolled my eyes. "I'm asking if you know who keeps track of the other scrolls. The other four families."

"Of course not. Have you forgotten rule number three?"

"No." Uniting the scrolls was bad juju. How could I forget any of the rules when they'd been so drummed into my head? "So there's no Guardians' Association? No annual meetings or reunion barbeques?"

Brow furrowed, Wu shook his head. "You're speaking nonsense."

"All I want to know is how you'd track down another Guardian."

"You wouldn't," he said resolutely, crossing his arms. "Wei Lin separated the scrolls for a purpose. They weren't meant to be reunited. To gather the scrolls together would mean—"

"I know. Cosmic destruction." So why was Rhys here? He had to know the rules, right? And I still didn't know how he'd found me. The only thing I did know was that if I wanted answers, I was going to have to pull them out of him.

"This is all immaterial." Wu stood up and hovered over me, as if to intimidate me into submission. "Instead of being concerned about things that have no relevance, you should be focused on learning how to be a proper Guardian."

If I told him how relevant my questions were, he'd accuse me of being the leak. Like I wouldn't know better than to tell people I had the scroll.

I grabbed my jeans from yesterday off the floor and pulled my cell phone out of the pocket.

Wu wavered in my peripheral vision. "Always busy with your social life," he said with scorn.

Hardly, but I let him think what he wanted. I redialed Rhys's number.

Imagine my surprise when he actually answered. "Miss me, love?"

He sounded intimate, as if he were next to me, whispering the words directly into my ear. While we lay in bed. I cleared my throat so I wouldn't sound like I wanted to jump him. "As if."

His husky chuckle hit me deep.

Crossing an arm over my chest, I tried not to notice how my nipples had perked with interest. "I need to see you."

"Is this a proposition?"

The questions provoked all kinds of sinful images. Like ripping his dress shirt off him and licking his mark. My hand tightened on the phone, which creaked in protest. "No proposition. I need more information, and then I'll be ready to deal."

"Deal?" Wu drifted in front of me. "What's this about a deal?"

I turned my back to him again and focused on Rhys. "When can we meet?"

"I'm a busy man, love."

"But you want this, for whatever reason, so I'm sure you'll make time," I responded mildly.

"You're turning me on playing hardball, Gabrielle. Will you deliver, I wonder?"

"Count on it." I hoped he didn't hear how breathy I sounded. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"What's wrong with tonight?"

"I have plans."

His voice hardened. "With your friend again?"

"Maybe," I lied.

"Careful, love. I tend to win any games I choose to play."

Not this time. But I didn't want to get him any more riled up, so I sweetly asked, "So tomorrow night?"

"Yes," he said abruptly. "I'll let you know where."

He hung up. One day to wait for answers. I guess I had no choice but to accept that.

But tomorrow I wouldn't take anything less than the whole truth. If only the scroll came with a magic lasso like Wonder Woman had.

Pulling some clothes from the drawer, I headed to the bathroom. I paused in the doorway by the kitchen. Was it my imagination, or did the fridge look really vulnerable?
Tu ch’i
burbled inside me, echoing my worry.

Maybe I should take the scroll with me. So no one else got to it. Or to read more if I got a break. It couldn't hurt to know more about the art. I really didn't need to paint right
now.
It could wait a while. And maybe if I read more it'd teach me how to really use
tu ch’i.
Maybe I could learn how to zap Vivian .. .

"What the hell."
I jerked back. Those weren't my thoughts. I may not like Vivian, but I didn't want to hurt her. Heart pounding, I hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Where are you going?"

Startling, I turned to find Wu's face coming through the bathroom door. "Damn it, stop doing that. Who'll take care of the scroll if I die of fright?"

He ignored me and looked at my clothing. "Where are you going?"

To Madame's to try to paint before dinner with Paul. What else could I do? Sit around and fret? But it was none of his business, so I simply said, "Out."