Chapter Four #2
He cleared his throat. That jolted her from her sensual haze, and she backpedaled so fast she hit the wall.
“I have to go.” She practically ran for the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow… Or not.” Leaving the door open, she bolted down the stairs.
He watched her cross the yard and escape into the house, shutting the door with a decisive slam.
“What the hell was that?” Frustrated and aroused, he stood on the landing at the top of the stairs.
This part of the assignment was supposed to be simple—wait for Georgia to pass and reap her soul.
Assuming he still could, considering that his other powers had been stripped.
He had to trust that the ability would be there when the time came.
After all, it was why his father had sent him.
His brothers were supposed to be the complication—and even then, a tiny piece of him had expected them to be grateful for his intervention. “Yeah, like I’m some bloody savior.” If Sam was any indication, the opposite was true.
When had it all gotten so complicated?
Caw! Malaki glided over to land on the railing beside him. Lust quickly morphed into anger. “I don’t know what my father’s trying to prove by amping up the sexual attraction between us. It won’t change what happens in the end.”
Malaki turned his head to one side.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. You know damn well what I’m talking about. Tell him it won’t work. I won’t play these kinds of games. I like Georgia, but we both know how this ends.”
The bird made several clicking and rattling sounds in his throat. The meaning was as plain as if he’d spoken.
“I don’t believe you. He took away my abilities.
What else did he do?” Leaving his father’s messenger, he stepped inside and locked the bird out.
No way would he believe there wasn’t something supernatural behind his attraction to Georgia.
It had to be his father’s influence, a test of sorts, right?
If it wasn’t, then what the hell was going on?
His erection continued to throb. Stripping off his clothes, he cranked the shower on cold and crammed himself into the small space.
It was going to be a long night.
…
Georgia rolled onto her side and stared out her bedroom window.
She was able to see the top of the garage.
It wasn’t overly late, but there were no lights on.
She pressed her fingers against her lips.
Her nipples hardened and brushed against the thin fabric of her sleep camisole.
Swallowing a groan, she closed her eyes and considered taking another cold shower.
She’d planned to return to the bakery after showing Kieran the apartment and getting a bite to eat.
That hadn’t happened. Now she’d have to get up at three and go in if she hoped to have anything to sell to her customers.
Thankfully, she had layers of several different varieties of cake, not to mention four types of cookie dough, frozen to give her a head start.
“I should have driven him to the motel.” It wasn’t only the money, although that was welcome. There was something solitary, almost lonely about him. She thumped her head against the pillow. “Face it, you caved.”
First thing tomorrow, she was putting a help wanted sign in the window. She should have done it today, but every time she thought about it, something interfered. The faster she hired someone and got Kieran out of her life, the better.
Ignoring the hollow ache in her stomach, she closed her eyes and counted sheep.
At two hundred and eighty-seven, she gave up in defeat.
It was going to take more than sheep to relax her.
A shot of whiskey might help, but she wasn’t much of a drinker and currently didn’t have any liquor in the house, except for an open bottle of wine.
It was probably just as well, considering that she had to get up in about four hours.
“I should go to the bakery.” Sometimes she baked from home, but the last thing she needed was for Kieran to notice the lights on and decide to check on her. Assuming he was awake. He was likely sound asleep. She tried not to resent him for that.
“Stop it.” She was making herself crazy with speculation. It didn’t matter what he did or didn’t do. “I’m off men.” The reminder didn’t help. Not with the memory of their brief kiss making her sweat. “Men like him don’t go for women like me.”
Kieran was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Intelligence gleamed in his eyes. He’d studied everyone today, sizing them all up. It wasn’t anything overt, but there’d been a keen awareness whenever anyone had walked in the door.
She was honest enough to admit that she’d spent a good part of the morning watching him between customers. He was strong and muscular but moved with natural grace, much like a panther hunting prey. Women would be drawn to him like bees to flowers.
No, he wasn’t for her. The kiss probably didn’t mean anything. A man like him was likely used to being with a woman on a regular basis, and she was available. The reminder hurt but was necessary.
Not that there was anything wrong with her, but a one-night stand wasn’t her style.
Although, for Kieran, she might be tempted to give it a try.
If their earlier kiss was any indication, sex with him would be off the charts.
He’d walk away when the time came without a backward glance, and she’d be left to pick up the pieces of her heart.
Been there, done that, and had no desire to repeat it.
Her confidence might not recover. She’d long ago come to terms with the fact she would never be svelte, would always carry an extra twenty pounds more than was fashionable.
But she was pretty enough. Her hair was nice and thick and her features pleasing, but her track record with men wasn’t great.
Discovering her boyfriend of more than a year was cheating on her had been a blow.
Shoving back the covers, she sat on the side of the bed.
“Don’t go there.” It changed nothing to look back.
She’d shed all her tears back in Boston.
Oddly enough, she’d been more angry than hurt, furious at being gullible, at being made a fool of.
She’d been the last to know. It had been an open secret with the rest of the people they’d worked with.
Pride had driven her to quit her job, move home, and create something for herself.
It had also made her understand that she’d settled for the first man who’d shown real interest in her.
She’d been more in love with the idea of them being a couple than she had been with the man.
He’d swept her off her feet and into his dream of making the Boston branch of his family’s bakery a huge success.
She’d envisioned the two of them as partners.
He’d seen her as a means to an end. She’d worked her ass off for a solid year.
In the end, Petras’ Bakery in Boston had become the top bakery in the city, and she’d been left with nothing.
No, not quite nothing. With the knowledge that she’d never put a man’s needs above her own again.
She dragged her fingers through her hair. “Why am I thinking so much about the past?” The reason was obvious. Kieran had punctured the bubble of calm she’d created in Redemption. He disturbed her sense of control. All it had taken was a single kiss.
Her phone rang, the number on the screen a familiar one. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Thinking about the past had conjured it.
Curious, she answered. “What do you want, David?”
“Did I wake you, my sweet?”
The term of endearment used to make her heart pitter-patter. Now it annoyed her. She’d discovered it was nothing special, that he used it for her as well as the women he’d cheated with. Rather than answer, she let the silence play out.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about you. Missing you.”
There was no pang in her heart for love lost, no anger either. There was…nothing.
Kissing Kieran had erased all previous emotion she’d had toward her ex. It was both surprising and a little frightening. If one kiss could do that, what would making love with him do to her?
“What about Lisette?” The question was snarky.
So sue her. She was only human. Born and raised in Paris, Lisette had gotten work at Petras’ Bakery and quickly done her best to take the position of top baker away from Georgia.
Not an easy task. If there was one place her confidence was unshakable, it was in the kitchen.
When it hadn’t succeeded, she’d worked her way into David’s bed, which had been surprisingly easy. Fidelity wasn’t his strong point.
“Lisette was a passing fancy. It’s you I miss.” She could picture his dark tousled hair, slumberous dark eyes, and confident smile. His words rang hollow. He was up to something, but what?
“That’s your problem, not mine.”
“You have become cold, my sweet. I blame myself. I was weak and fell prey to Lisette’s pretty words.”
Typical of him to blame his shortcomings on the woman involved instead of taking responsibility for his actions.
In hindsight, it was lowering to admit she’d been dazzled by his good looks and style and attention.
Not to mention his large boisterous Greek family who’d welcomed her with open arms. “If that’s an apology, it falls short. ”
He sighed. “I miss you. I want you to come back to Boston, to me, to the bakery.”
And there it was. “I have a life and a place of my own.”
“A little shop in a town in the middle of nowhere. You should be here, by my side, your talents on display for all to see and admire.”
It was small of her, but she was enjoying this. Karma had come back to bite him in the butt. “I thought Lisette could easily take my place—at the bakery and in your bed. If I recall correctly, that’s what you said when I accused you of being unfaithful.”
“Lisette has gone back to France. She was not the woman for me. She didn’t have your talent, your flair.” Or Georgia’s work ethic. The woman had been a skilled baker, but she hadn’t wanted to put in the hours.
“Not interested in either the job or you. Have a nice life.” She hung up while he was yelling at her to wait.
Flopping back on the bed, she laughed. “This has got to be the strangest day of my life.” First Kieran and the magic kiss that had fired her blood and brought her sexual longings surging back to life. Now this. “I’m well and truly cured of the David Petras curse.”
Wide-awake, she got dressed, grabbed her purse, and slipped out the front door. Might as well do something productive.
An owl hooted in the distance as she made her way down the sidewalk. The nocturnal insects began a chorus, and a dog barked down the street. The song of the night wrapped around her. The sky twinkled with stars.
She’d missed this while she’d been in Boston. She’d become so used to the constant traffic and noise that were a part of the fabric of any city, along with the abundance of artificial light, that she’d forgotten how magical the night could be.
Her mind drifted to the temporary tenant over the garage. It was all too easy to imagine him sprawled across the too-small-for-him pullout bed. With the heat and his lack of luggage—which was another mystery—there was a good chance he was naked.
She groaned and picked up her pace, needing to put distance between them before she did something stupid, like race up the stairs to the garage and pound on the door until he let her in.
The bakery loomed like a talisman in the distance. She let herself in, turned on the lights, and did what she always did to escape the problems of her life—she baked.