Protecting His Witch (Entangled Covet) (Keeper Of The Veil series Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter Seven

Matt lunged forward to catch Kat before she smacked onto the concrete. Christ, she was soaked and freezing. Maybe she had a concussion. He placed two fingers on her neck. Thank God, she had a weak pulse. He shot a quick bolt of healing energy into her to stabilize her.

He needed to get her out of this rain to somewhere private where he could use his healing ability to fix her injuries, but not his apartment. Eli would face off with him over doing
the right thing
, which for Eli would be calling Bryce. Then he’d lose her to the druids. No one would take her from him now that he’d gotten her back.

His office was two blocks away. Two very long blocks, but still a better option. He swiped her purse off the ground but couldn’t locate her other shoe. Sirens echoed in the distance. He jogged away from the scene with her in his arms.

On his way out of the elevator at his office building, she moaned and demanded, “Put me down.”

“Are you sure? You fainted.”

“I did not. I do not faint.” She pushed against his chest to glance around. “Why are we inside?”

He smiled at her baffled expression. “You almost conked your head a second time when you went down.”

“I can walk. My head feels…fine, which is weird. It really does feel absolutely fine now.”

At least the quick healing session in the elevator had worked. He liked holding her. A lot. And didn’t want to release her. She squirmed. Reluctantly he lowered her, but kept a hand on her arm until she stabilized.

She stepped away, putting a few feet of air between them. “Where are we?”

“The Ryan Corp office building. It was close.” His gaze dropped to the scrubs plastered to her body, outlining every perfect curve.

She crossed her arms and looked around the hallway lined with expensive artwork chosen by a designer years before he’d become CEO.

“Aren’t you at least going to thank me for saving your life?”

She uncrossed her arms. “Yes, of course. Thank you. I’m sorry.” A myriad of emotions passed through her eyes before she said, “I keep imagining what that guy planned to do.”

“He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I know.” She shuddered and shadows passed through her eyes again. “How did you find me there?”

“I was at the corner store.”

She mumbled, “Strange coincidence.”

“Yeah.” The improbability of that
coincidence
had churned in his mind ever since he’d spied her being dragged up the street. It suggested she might be linked to him, if she’d just shifted into this dimension. This would be the third time she’d shifted directly to him. And if she was a legitimate Pleiades witch, then that might mean she and he were… Nope, he wasn’t finishing that thought. No thoughts of destineds right now. There was just him and her…and now. And some unfinished business about a curse.

He said, “Let’s get you out of those clothes and warm you up.” His gaze dropped to her pebbled nipples. “I can tell you’re still freezing.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, obstructing his view.

“That suggestion came from you, not me.” He stepped close and slid his hand around the back of her slender neck. “You had quite a trauma. But I could be convinced it might be a good idea.”
No this isn’t a good idea.
He knew better. But everything about this woman challenged and then seduced him into an irrational need to touch her.

She gasped when he swept his thumb up and down the indentation of her neck. She stiffened. Indignation flared in her gaze. “I won’t deny I’m physically attracted to you. I don’t know why, but you are exactly the kind of guy I have decided it’s best I avoid.”

“Kiss me.”
Reassure me you’re alive and okay.

Her gaze snapped to his lips. A flush stained her cheeks.

He leaned in close and whispered hoarsely, “Kiss me, wildcat.”

Her fingers dug into the collar of his coat and tugged him down to her level.

A ripple of shock went through him when her lips touched his. He pressed her backward against the wall. With a groan he teased her lips apart. He’d meant to tempt her, but his control rapidly slipped away when she moaned and her tongue tangled with his. She slid her leg over his to notch his hips firmly between her thighs in a desperate way that signaled she sought relief from the same need consuming him. They kissed furiously until breath ran short and they paused to draw in air.

“More,” she requested.

“More what? This?” Matt hooked his arms beneath her legs and positioned the straining length that pressed insistently against the fly of his jeans against the junction of her legs. He ground her back against the wall and kissed her again.

She cried out as she absorbed his thrusts. His erection slid in mind numbing friction against her.

He kissed his way down her neck. Slowly his mind registered her soaked clothes, her slight shivering which could be from cold or desire, and the crusted blood on her forehead. He stopped.

“What?” she asked. Her arousal-drugged gaze raked his face.

Don’t look at me like that. Please.
He was having a hard enough time trying to do the right thing. “You need to get dry. Out of those clothes.”

“Exactly. Out of my clothes.” Her hand caressed his ass as she kissed along his jaw.

Fuck.

He lowered her to the ground. And stepped away.

“Really?” she said. “You started this, and now you’re backing off?”

“You had a nasty head bump and could have a concussion.” He knew she didn’t have any problem with her head. He’d fixed that. But doing this with her right now wasn’t right, not when demons might be chasing her into this.

Her eyes slid to fury, shooting sparks. She looked disheveled, untamed and so sexy. He wanted to attack her again.
Do the right thing, which is not this.
He paced ahead of her to his executive assistant’s office while repeating that mantra in his head. His assistant was a serious gym rat. He pawed through her drawers until…bingo. He held up yoga pants, T-shirt, and sneakers.

“Isn’t this invading her privacy, and stealing?” Kat asked tightly.

“I’ll reimburse her.” He frowned at the crusted blood on Kat’s forehead and matted into her hair. “How about you take a shower? Wash off the blood.”
You could invite me to join you.

She touched her head and nodded.

He led her through his office to the adjoining bathroom.

“Thanks,” she said curtly and slammed the door in his face.

…

Kat gazed at the door, knowing Matt hadn’t budged from his sentry post on the other side. She was so frigging furious that he’d started what he had and then left her desperate. Every inch of her skin burned hot like she’d been sitting too close to a furnace. She was tempted to yank open the door and demand he give her the relief she needed, maybe even in the shower. She’d never done anything like that in the shower.

Oh God, she was in so much trouble. One hint of encouragement from him and she’d be the one tearing off that sexy black overcoat and peeling off his jeans.
Remember, you shouldn’t sleep with him.
She would never be free of him if she did. Being honest with herself, she’d never really escaped the memory of their one night a decade ago. Her only hope was to resist him and pray that her obsession with him passed. Maybe she could condition herself not to respond like a cat in heat every time he touched her.

Right.

The man was too sexy. He had great lips. Very defined, very masculine. And he knew how to use them. With a shudder, she imagined those lips on her whole body.
Stop it.

She stared at the bruises on her forearm from her would-be kidnapper. Had Matt not appeared, that creep would’ve killed her. Probably painfully. Now Matt wasn’t just the guy who she bumped into every single time she bounced into Otherworld, but was her honest-to-God hero. And didn’t that just make her stomach somersault and her heart squeeze.

As if on autopilot, she twisted on the shower, peeled off the damp scrubs, and washed. Suddenly she needed to erase the memory of her attacker’s touch. She scrubbed. And scrubbed. Her skin pinkened from the vigorous loofa wash. After she’d used the entire bottle of body wash she leaned against the shower wall and let the hot spray scald her overly sensitive skin. She could still feel that creep.

Get out,
she ordered herself. In a daze she pulled on the too-large yoga clothes and brushed her hair. She stepped out of the bathroom and forced herself to meet Matt’s brooding gaze. Had he been out here the whole time?

With a push away from the wall he said, “Come.” He led her into the spacious corner office and asked, “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea sounds good.”

He disappeared into an adjoining room. She wandered to the windows. What a spectacular view of the city lights at night. Turning, she took in a wall-sized painting of an almost empty sky hanging behind a polished wood desk. A huge white board filled with scribbled words and connecting lines took up another wall.

He reappeared and handed her a steaming cup, waving at the white board. “It helps everyone—employees and clients—know what we stand for and our goals. We update it all the time.” He sipped at his own cup and gazed at her, his expression cool.

She sipped the tea. Too hot.

God, she wanted to feel him surrounding her again. She was desperate.
Desperate.
She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. Images of him kissing her, touching her, swirled in her mind. Sweat gathered between her shoulders. She didn’t know if she moved to cover the distance between them, or if he did, but within seconds their cups were on the desk and his mouth was on hers. His teeth scraped and tugged at her lower lip until she opened for him with a relieved groan. Fire swept through her. She gave herself completely to his control, wrapping her arms around him.

His hands tangled in her damp hair and held with a tight, almost ruthless grip. The bite of pain increased her need for release. The tips of her breasts ached as they rubbed against his shirt. With a groan he deepened the kiss. She slid along his thigh, seeking pressure to find relief. She fumbled at his jeans fastening.

“No.” He tore his mouth from hers. He released her hair and gripped her hands to halt their motion. “Not like this. Not on a post-death-threat high.”

Denial roared in her brain. “You’re saying no to me…again?”

“We are not doing it like this. Not when I won’t know if this is your fear chasing you. When we do this, wildcat, it will be about you and me. I’m not going to fuck you now just so you can blame me tomorrow for taking advantage of you.”

He was rejecting her? She’d practically flung herself at him and he rejected her. Twice. She studied his stubborn expression, torn between scratching his eyes out and begging him. She would not beg. She’d only hate herself later. Humiliation fed fury. “Fine. Hand me my purse and call me a cab.”

…

“Where will you go?” Matt realized he fully believed her to be a Pleiades witch. But according to Bryce she was
lost,
whatever that meant. Either she meant to be “lost” from the world of druids like him, or she really didn’t know anything. The not knowing seemed impossible. All the Pleiad women were so carefully guarded. So diligently trained from birth for their roles. Sentry druids committed their lives to protecting them, and sometimes died adhering to that vow. These women didn’t just get lost.

She squinted furiously at him and searched the room. “Where’s my purse?”

He watched her dart back into the bathroom, and then into his secretary’s office. Damn it, why couldn’t she be normal? A superhot veterinarian without an ounce of goddamned magic. Regardless of how much he wanted to throw her on that couch and fuck both of them senseless for about a week, it’d be wrong.

When had he grown a conscience when it came to women and sex? He raked a hand agitatedly through his hair and said, “Kat, you’re exhausted. You whacked your head pretty hard and I’m worried you could have a concussion.”
What a crock of bullshit.
He’d resolved all injury from the head bump. “Stay here tonight. On the sofa. You need someone close by to be sure you don’t go into a coma from a concussion. In the morning we’ll talk over breakfast. Then I’ll drive you home.”

Her gaze darted to the door. Forlorn fear skittered through her eyes before her gaze slid back to his. “It has been a really long day. Maybe I’ll just rest a few minutes.”

Oh, hell. She might really be in the not knowing category of lost. That meant she had nowhere else to go. An orphan in an alien world. He couldn’t imagine that level of fish out of water terror. His respect for her notched itself to the highest level. He retrieved a blanket from his closet and handed it to her. “I’ve got some computer work, if it won’t bother you.”

She accepted the blanket and settled onto the sofa without another word. Within minutes she was out.

They needed to talk. He had to figure out what she knew and get her protection. That OLM Acquisitions bastard wouldn’t be the last. The group had acquired a very good Sighter that could read for future continuum disturbances and dimension hops.

For a while he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. He looked down at his shaking hands. He could withstand torture and pain. He’d been trained to kill without a second thought. He could sew his own skin when knifed or shot. Nothing shook him of his calm.

But he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking out of the need to touch Kat. To reassure himself that no injury remained. And just to touch her beautiful skin. He wanted to wrap himself around her and hold her tight until she woke up. His need for her ran soul-deep. Far beyond what any silly curse could conjure. He’d tried to forget her for years, but now admitted he’d never be free of her.

Chapter Eight

Kat blinked awake, taking in the unfamiliar office. Matt’s office. Her shoulders hurt, but she wasn’t sure if it was from sleeping on a couch or from having it wrenched by her almost kidnapper. Images of her death terror and then utter humiliation from last night crashed into her brain.

Without sitting up she squeezed her eyes shut.
Come on, I want to go home. Now.

Nothing happened.

“Finally, you’re awake,” Matt announced. “I ordered us breakfast.”

She sat up. “Wow. You, me,
and
all the Yankees can eat.” She blinked at the mounds of food on the coffee table—pastries, eggs, fruit, breads, jellies, and were those mini-boxes of cereal?

He sat on a footrest on the opposite side of the coffee table. “I didn’t know what you’d like. So, I got a bit of everything.” He smiled earnestly.

“This is very generous of you.” She stared at the offerings, unsure if she should go for fruit or carbs.

“Try the apple strudel. It’s from a German bakery just up the street. They sell out by six thirty every morning.” He sliced a generous piece and put it on a napkin. “I never share. So, consider this a high honor.” He held it out to her.

She accepted the strudel. “Thank you.” She bit into the pastry. “Mmm. That really is delicious.” She finished it and smiled. “I think I’ve found a new favorite food.”

He flashed that smile that made her heart race. “The bakery’s owner reminds me of my grandmother. More?”

She shook her head and snagged a banana. “That stuff is delicious, but deadly.”

“I got this for you.” He sliced another piece and moved around the coffee table.

Seeing the mischievous sense of purpose in his gaze, she scooted over on the sofa and then stood. She backed away from him as he advanced, effectively backing herself into a corner.

“Open up,” he ordered.

She opened and bit in. So delicious. Once she’d finished she narrowed her gaze on him. “That wasn’t fair.”

“Maybe not, but you liked it.” He resumed his seat on the opposite side of the coffee table.

Laughing, she retrieved the napkin he’d handed her earlier and dabbed her mouth.

“You missed a bit.” He leaned across the table and wiped a finger against the corner of her mouth. He licked his finger. “Amazing.” His gaze smoldered.

She busied herself with pouring juice into a plastic cup. “Would you like some?”

“Sure.”

As they both sipped juice, her imagination kicked in. She imagined slowly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing up the T-shirt beneath. Then she’d trace every muscular dip down to his pants. Would he be commando, or was he a briefs guy? The yoga outfit suddenly felt uncomfortably hot.

“How do you like being a veterinarian?”

She shook off the fantasy. “It’s got its ups and downs. My boss is a bit of an ass. I plan to change clinics as soon as my contract is up in two months. But I like my clients and the pets always make it worthwhile.”

His gaze changed to angry, almost to the point of deadly. “Why is your boss an ass?”

“Likes to yell all the time. Yells at the staff, yells at the doctors. He’s charming to clients. It’s disgusting how much his clients love him. He’s very successful, though.”

“Why did you elect to work for him if he’s like that?”

She snagged a bagel and spread cream cheese on it. “Oh, he’s all charm in the interview. He conned me into thinking I’d found the perfect workplace. Once I signed the contract everything changed, but by then I was locked in. How about you? You seem to be very good at what you do, but why don’t you like it?”

Matt’s eyebrows shot upward. “You’re the first to accuse me of that. How did you guess?”

“You got a certain look when I asked before that clued me in. Why aren’t you in love with your job? It looks like you’ve benefitted well from it.”

Matt shifted on the footrest and glanced away from her. “It wasn’t my first choice of careers. I stepped in when my father had a heart attack and died. There was no one else. My mother would’ve gladly destroyed the company piece by piece out of repressed rage for my father. He… Let’s just say this place reminds me of him every single day, which isn’t a good thing.”

She reached across the coffee table and gripped his hand briefly. “I’m sorry. You could step down or sell.”

Matt shook his head. Sadness passed through his gaze momentarily. “There’s no one else that could hold this place together. No one else that gets my vision.”

She raised her glass of juice. “A toast. To doing what we must to survive.”

He slowly grinned. “To future endeavors.”

Her face burned, knowing without a doubt that meant her. Her mind wandered to her personal dilemma of world changing. He still wanted to
talk
. Really talk. That meant explanations. Crap. She didn’t think she could handle that yet. Also, being in continued close proximity to him would definitely end in more humiliation since her willpower in his presence registered about zero. She couldn’t handle another rejection. Then again, maybe he’d heat things up so she’d get that first-time shower sex.
No, no, and say it again…no!

But she had wanted to talk magical abilities with him. He might actually understand her mind-reading ability or world-hopping dilemma. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. And just maybe he’d consider her nuts, which would lead to more humiliation. Did she trust him enough to brave that discussion? No.

What she needed was research. On him. And on her world-jumping problem. Once she had some facts, then she’d feel more confident braving that conversation on magical issues.

“Thank you for all this food. If you’d excuse me, I need to use the restroom. Do you have my purse? I’d like to get something out of it.”

He walked to his desk and removed her purse from where it hung off the back of his desk chair.

“Thanks.” She fast-walked to the bathroom adjoining his office. Hadn’t she seen another exit to this hallway?

Yes. She pushed through into what she could only assume was his secretary’s office. She couldn’t dart out without leaving a note.

She grabbed a pen off the desk and quickly jotted a note on a sticky pad:
Matt-
Thanks for the clothes and breakfast. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again. -K

That sounded silly. Now she wanted a rewrite, but in a few minutes he’d figure out she left.

On the elevator she rifled through her purse, counting out sixty-two dollars and some change.

As she rode away in a cab, a stab of guilt made her turn to watch Matt’s office skyscraper disappear behind them. Maybe she should’ve had that chat with him.

…

Matt gazed sightlessly out his office at the early morning panorama. His mood ran about a hundred miles south of foul. He shouldn’t have let her out of his sight. Now he didn’t know if she was running around the city unprotected, or if she’d shifted back to her other dimension. He hadn’t detected the buzz of magical energy suggesting a dimension hop, but he wasn’t sure he would recognize it.

He fingered the mark on his wrist, wondering how it worked. Long ago Quinn mentioned he could track whomever he marked, but Matt didn’t remember how. And he’d never call Bryce to ask.

He massaged his forehead against a headache. For the thousandth time his mind tortured him with the image of Kat coming apart against him in the coatroom, and that little hitched breath in the back of her throat. He recalled the flush on her cheeks and drugged satisfaction in her gaze, even if she had hidden it within seconds. He should’ve at least taken her back to that high last night. Hell, he should never have stopped her when she almost ripped off his jeans. Why had he caved to good intentions when he might not get another chance? He cursed.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ryan? I didn’t catch that. Do you need something?” His secretary laid a stack of mail on one side of his desk.

“I could use coffee.” Matt schooled his features to stoicism as he turned to face her.

“Of course. Cindy Ellison called before you came in. She requests you call her at this number by ten this morning. Also, your mother called and wants to confirm you’re still to be counted on for the benefit next Thursday. She wanted to remind you that you promised dinner again with them tonight. She said something about a special friend of Allison’s you needed to meet.” She placed two pink phone communication slips on his desk. “Don’t forget the interview and photo shoot with that news magazine this afternoon at the beach house.”

He said, “Please confirm the heli to depart at noon, then.”

“There was this odd sticky note on my desk that looks like it’s for you. I’ll get your coffee and confirm the helicopter departure.” She held out the note.

Matt grabbed the note. His heart raced as he read Kat’s message. It wasn’t an
it’s-over
note, but it also wasn’t a promise for anything more either. The note didn’t clarify if she was gone or still in this dimension. Damn it.

When his secretary returned minutes later with coffee he asked, “Did Eli call?”

“No.”

He grabbed his cell phone off the desk and dialed Eli. “What did you find out about her?”

Eli replied, “I’m not going to play games about this girl, Matt. I told you Bryce has got a hard-on to find a girl named Katherine. He’s pressuring all of us. Hard. I still think your Katherine is one and the same.”

Matt fell into his desk chair, which groaned in complaint. “She really could be one of the Pleiades.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I couldn’t find jack shit on Katherine Ramsey with a
K
. She doesn’t exist. Bryce ordered everyone to scout for her. I do mean
everyone
. When we find her, we bring her to him. He doesn’t often give us the details on the whys of what he demands. Bryce’s craze might make sense if she is a Pleiad.”

Matt spun his chair to stare out the window and consider his options. “I need you to hack into security footage from my office. Then email me the camera footage of her exiting the building this morning.”

“Her as in Katherine Ramsey? You had her in your work building today? What. The. Hell?”

“This is between you and me. I rescued her from an Acquisitions team last night.”

“Oh, Christ. Is she okay?”

“I healed her. She’s a little shaken up, but fine. Then she ditched me this morning right after breakfast. I don’t know if she walked out of here or shifted away. I need the footage. After you send it to me, corrupt it.”

“Can do.” Eli cleared his throat. “You need to speak to Bryce about this.”

“This is none of his business.”

“All right. I’ve got your back. I’m just warning you. Bryce’s got a burr so far up his ass about this that if he finds out you harbored her, he will go nuclear. I also feel obligated to say if she is a Pleiad, then your helping her had better be to get her protection, and not one of your booty calls.”

“Just send me the goddamned footage.” He hung up.

…

Online research at the library showed the date here was the same as at home. History wasn’t exactly the same, although Kat found some similarities as she scanned internet news. She wondered if she had an identity in this world and Googled herself. A few hits came up, but none were her. She typed in the webpage of her clinic in North Carolina and discovered the staff was completely different. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into herself.

She Googled Matt. A photo of him on the cover of a celeb magazine propelled her heart to a sprint. The top button of his white dress shirt was undone and his black tie hung loose. That half smile and six-o’clock shadow sent liquid fire throughout her body.

She skimmed the article and a few other interviews. They confirmed he’d built a powerful company, but she only cared about his personal life. He’d been linked to a handful of women. But only one marriage a few years ago, which lasted six months before he and his wife separated. His wife committed suicide weeks later. How sad. As much as it hurt to realize he’d loved another woman enough to marry her, she wondered why it’d been so short. This was the history of a man not big on commitment. He’d be perfect, if she was looking for short-term.

What is wrong with you?
She wasn’t looking for any
term
. She just wanted to go home. There was nothing related to Matt and magic online, not that she’d expected it.

Someone in this world or hers would be able to make sense of what she was doing here and how this reality change was possible. She punched through a few web searches, finally getting helpful hits with “research on dimensional travel.” A theoretical physicist at Columbia University popped up with a few publications on dimensional time travel. Based on the number of blog sites with his name, and the pages of debate, they must be highly controversial papers. Columbia was in the city. Close and quite convenient. She jotted down the professor’s phone number.

An hour later Kat approached a student absorbed in a thick textbook, reclining on the stone steps of an academic building. Apparently, the kid was immune to the bitter wind that tore through his clothes. Shivering, Kat pulled the cheap wool coat she’d purchased at Goodwill tighter, jealous of the kid’s tolerance of the cold. How she missed the South. They never got more than a dusting of snow, and never wind that could spear through any cloth barrier.

“Where’s the physics department?” Kat asked the student.

The kid gazed at her with a vacant, somewhat stunned look. He removed his earbuds. “You talking to me?”

“Yes. Where is the physics building?”

He pointed. “Over there. Pupin Hall.”

“Thanks. Sorry to bother you.”

Heat enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth as she stepped into Pupin Hall. She ran up several flights of stairs to make it into Professor Yossi Webb’s office two minutes late for their designated meeting, and opened the door to a modest room filled with books piled haphazardly on shelves. The floor was cluttered with stacks of papers and notebooks that, if it was organized into a system, could only make sense to the owner of the office.

“Hello. Anyone here?”