Spirit Bound (7 page)

“I totally can kick butt. I’ve got all the moves.” Judith huffed her disapproval, glaring down at Airiana’s smirking face. “I just prefer not to hit people. I’m more evolved and civilized than the rest of you.”

“Well, you did flip Blythe onto her back last night,” Airiana conceded. “But then you burst into tears and that sort of ruined the whole effect.”

“Levi was so exasperated,” Blythe said and burst out laughing at the memory. “Did you see his face? I thought he might run out of there.”

Judith couldn’t help but laugh as well, although remembering the moment when she’d thrown her sister to the mat made her a little nauseous. The sound of Blythe’s body hitting the mat, the air rushing from her lungs had been sickening. Judith couldn’t explain to Levi—or her sisters—that she wanted to learn, she just didn’t want to hurt anyone in the process. She believed she could defend her sisters fiercely if she had to, but to deliberately hit one of them or throw them down so hard it knocked the breath from them was abhorrent to her. And what if she lost her temper? What disaster would she bring down on everyone then?

“He definitely doesn’t like any of us to cry,” Airiana agreed. “And have you ever seen him when Rikki is upset? He’s crazy about her.”

Blythe sighed. “I have to admit that he is. I watch him all the time. I still drop by in the early morning hours for coffee and Rikki’s always waiting outside for me. Levi brings the coffee out and seems happy enough to see me, but he rarely takes his eyes off of Rikki. I’m happy for her.”

Judith nodded, knowing Blythe was right. Levi Hammond was so in love with Rikki, her autism didn’t seem to be in any way a deterrent. “Does it make you think maybe there’s someone out there for the rest of us? He’s so different, and I can’t imagine either one with anyone else. They were made for each other. Maybe there really is a Mr. Right.”

Her voice lacked conviction and she knew it. There would never be a Mr. Right for her. She couldn’t trust herself, or her talent, to not ever put those she loved in peril again. She was attracted to the wrong kind of man. In the past few years, she hadn’t even dared look at a man with any degree of interest. She didn’t dare go down that path ever again. Worse, she felt as if her own body had died. She hadn’t been the least attracted, physically or emotionally, to any man she’d met in the past five years.

Blythe shook her head. “I’m past the age where some knight in shining armor is going to ride in on a white steed and sweep me off my feet.”

Airiana did a few little dance steps across the thick, creamy carpet. “I think Levi is going to be starved for male company, poor man.”

Judith forced another laugh, but that shadow passing over her house hadn’t kept going, it had slipped inside her and a deep dread blossomed and grew.

3

SHE
came toward him, walking with unhurried steps, un-aware of his presence. Stefan stood in the shadows, just inside the alcove by the gallery door, his back to the building, where he could see anything coming at him. Judith Henderson was far more breathtaking in person than in her photographs. She was still a good distance away, so he had plenty of time to absorb her. Tall, long legs, her suit as elegant as they came. A pencil skirt hugged the curve of her hips lovingly. Her short, flared matching jacket was severe black, but the bright red silk shirt beneath it clung like a second skin and looked as sexy as hell.

Women didn’t affect his pulse, or his body, yet deep inside where no one could see, the earth shook so hard something cracked wide open, deep, a fissure he couldn’t repair. Emotions long buried, thought dead, rose with the force of a volcano, shaking him. He felt stripped of his armor, vulnerable, broken open and entirely exposed. His hand slid inside his jacket to the familiar feeling of the butt of his Glock. The moment he touched the weapon, he knew he was in trouble.

Judith Henderson threatened him on an elemental level. The danger was almost tangible, yet he was at a loss as to why. She had that same faraway, lost look on her face that was in the photograph he carried with him, next to his skin in the inside pocket of his shirt where he kept the small tablet that would end his life should he fall into the wrong hands. This woman was the type who brought men to their knees. Even the strongest man bared his soul, handed his heart into keeping and was lost for all time just from a smile from those angel lips. He could hold his breath just waiting for her to smile—at him—for him. Just him.

He willed her to look up. To see him. He braced himself for the impact, knowing it was coming. Judith took two more unhurried steps in her high heels with that splash of tantalizing red streaking through the unrelenting black. His heart would have kicked into high gear if he’d allowed it, just at the anticipation of her gaze meeting his, but he was far too disciplined for that. He didn’t take his eyes from her, absorbing her into his being. God, she was beautiful.

Her eyes flicked to the shadows and away again. Deliberately he shifted his weight. Her gaze jumped back to the alcove—to him. Her eyes widened, met his. His body reacted, blood rushing hotly through every vein, through his heart, spreading like a firestorm to settle in his groin. The shock of it, of that unrelenting, fierce ache, shook him. He was never out of control, his body completely disciplined, yet he was full and hard and throbbing with need, just with her eyes meeting his.

This time, there was no controlling his wayward heart. Thunder roared in his ears, filling his head with warning, with need. Her gaze was more of a punch, hitting him low and wicked hard. She drove the breath from his lungs and sanity from his mind.

If he opened his mouth, he doubted if sound would emerge. All of his training, all of his discipline was gone in one moment. Power surrounded the woman in her perfect suit on her perfect body. Innocence radiated from her. Brightness shone through all that soft skin. Yet there was unconscious seduction in every movement of her body, the way her lips were made for fantasy nights, those eyes, dark and mysterious like the woman herself.

He could read that power she wore like a cloak just as easily as he could read the aura surrounding her. She hid her powerful energy, hid every dark shadow inside her, presented a different face to the world than what was deep inside of her. But he saw her—all of her—and he wanted what he saw. What man wouldn’t? This was a woman a man would never get out of his mind. He saw instantly why Jean-Claude La Roux was so obsessed. She crawled inside a man before he ever had a chance to run. Just with one smoldering look. That innocent seduction.

Through it all, there was something else. Something much deeper that he reacted to. Elemental. Elusive. She was far more than that bright innocent seductress every other man would see and want. She was filled with sorrow. Lost. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t the man who stepped forward and saved the innocent. He was lost himself. Shadows had invaded a long time ago and stolen his life. But he would give anything he had left to be the man who found a way to save Judith Henderson. He wanted to be that man and it made no sense. She was a complete stranger, but that tiny piece of humanity left in him reached for this woman.

“Mr. Vincent?”

Her voice was as seductive as the rest of her. Velvet soft. Stroking over his skin like the touch of fingers. She was already inside of him. He could feel her there where he could never get her out.

“Miss Henderson?” His accent was perfect. He was already firmly anchored in his role as Thomas Vincent, an American businessman recognized in the art world with enough credentials to impress anyone. Like any good cover, he’d worked on it for some time, in case he ever needed an American businessman. The art was easy enough, he had studied hard and with his ability to retain what he read, it was simple enough to pull out his extensive education and add it to the role he immersed himself in.

Judith took another step toward him, her gaze moving over his body. Even in his elegant, perfectly fitting suit, he knew he wasn’t much to look at. He had the physique of a bodybuilder, impossible to hide. His tapered waist and narrow hips only exaggerated the bulk of his chest, arms and shoulders. His eyes were penetrating and deep blue-green, almost an aqua, his natural color. He normally wore tinted contacts, but it had been necessary to give a little of himself to this woman. What there was left of him—and it wasn’t much.

“Yes, I’m Judith Henderson. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long. I was held up at the studio and didn’t have a number to reach you. I’m so sorry.”

A man would forgive this woman anything, especially when she looked at him with such obvious sincerity. Her eyes were enough to drown a man. He slowed his breathing and took control of his rapidly beating heart. He sent her a smile—a real one. Her head jerked up and she blinked rapidly, a sign that his crooked smile had an effect on her.

He found he didn’t want to play her, not the way he did other marks, but every move was smooth and practiced, traits drilled into him since childhood. He hadn’t been the most handsome man in their school; he’d been too rough and edgy to be called that, but he had undeniable charm and a hard, muscular body a woman couldn’t help noticing. Sometimes, the scars on his face and body were a deterrent, but more often, women found them intriguing.

“No problem. Sea Haven is beautiful. I spent the time wandering around. You’d said you might be a few minutes late and it gave me the opportunity to look at the gallery location. Sea Haven certainly appears to be everything the advertisement said.”

“If you’re looking for a place to raise a family,” Judith said, “this is the perfect place.”

He flashed another smile. “No family. I just decided I wanted out of the rat race. At my age, peace begins to look good.”

“You’re from New York?” She moved up to the gallery door, taking out a set of keys.

There was no wasted effort. Every movement was graceful. He stepped close enough to inhale her fragrance. Exotic. Citrus. All woman. Stefan had been in the company of beautiful women more times than he could count over the years, but she was the first one to capture his interest—not the interest of the undercover agent, but of the man. It was a complication unwelcome but not entirely a shock. He knew from his reaction to her photograph that this assignment was going to give him trouble. He just hadn’t realized until this moment how much.

“Yes. I was a silent partner in a gallery there, but decided I had enough of taxis and parties. I read about this town some years ago and filed it away. The town sounded so charming and unique, an artist’s paradise.”

“An article?” she prompted with a small smile over her shoulder as she pushed the door to the gallery open and stepped aside to gesture him inside.

Gallantly, and because he was always uncomfortable with anyone directly behind him, Stefan stepped back to hold the door for her. “Yes, on a supermodel who grew up here. The writer had obviously fallen a little bit in love with the town as well. There were beautiful pictures of the countryside, and the ocean with the sun shining on the surface.”

She flicked on the lights as she turned to face him. Her skin looked inviting, soft and so warm he curled his fingers into a fist and held it tight against his thigh to keep from being tempted into touching her inappropriately. The woman needed to be outlawed.

“That would be Hannah Drake. Her family has been here for over a hundred years. I’m not certain, after New York, our sleepy little town would have all that much to offer you. There’s not really a night life here, Mr. Vincent. Everything closes up rather early.”

He kept his wolfish smile to himself. Sweet little Judith had her suspicions. Now why would an innocent woman be in the least skeptical about a buyer wanting to live in her quaint, charming town? She looked the epitome of cooperation, every graceful movement soothing. Her steps were unhurried as she moved through the spacious, beautiful gallery toward what clearly was an office. One would never think they were in a chess match with such a beautiful, soothing woman gracing the gallery.

He indicated the deserted street. “Doesn’t look like a night life, but I noticed a crowd moving around in the store two doors down.”

“Every third Friday evening of the month we hold an artist’s walk. The various shops participate. We have wine tastings and it’s a good draw for a crowd. Usually I open the gallery for the event, but I actually hosted the event in my own shop this evening, which is why I was a little late. Fortunately my sister locked up for me. Ordinarily it’s very quiet here at night.”

“Just what I’m looking for,” he assured her, just as charming right back. He could match her play for play. He was the pro. As smooth as she was, she was still an amateur. He found himself looking forward to the exchange.

She sent him another look from over her shoulder, her silky black hair cascading like a waterfall, adding to the already painful ache in his groin. She looked like an exotic flower, exquisite and rare. And damn it all, it wasn’t safe for a woman like her to be showing strange men around an empty gallery at night. She was temptation personified. As much as he didn’t want to explore the possibility of her being an agent for another country, the thought still crossed his mind. She was just too seductive without even trying. Her walk. Her dark eyes looking at him over her shoulder through all that smooth, silky hair. She was made for fantasy. For long nights.

Her manner didn’t appear affected—in fact, just the opposite. She seemed naturally sensual—something all good agents were trained to be. He’d been uncharacteristic by not calling too much attention to her, not asking for more background, more checks. He cursed himself for falling into the inevitable trap some women seemed to bait so easily. His initial reaction to her—that terrible need to be the one to change that look in her eyes, to be the man she relied on—made no sense. He was a cynical man. He’d seen it all. He didn’t believe in love and he sure didn’t believe he would be pulled into a trap by a woman. He’d thought himself immune, but he recognized danger when he saw it.

“The gallery was closed for a time and lost a bit of ground, but since reopening, it’s recovering nicely, at a very steady rate.” She flipped on the lights in the office.