“How come you’re so even-keeled?” Isabelle finally asked, leaning back on her heels after the box was empty.
“I’ve seen a lot, experienced much. In my family, you learn to get over your shock at an early age.”
“So as children you’re exposed to …”
“Voodoo? Of course. You can’t fight darkness without knowing it’s out there.”
“Forewarned is forearmed?”
Again that secretive smile. “Something like that.” Georgie pulled up a cushioned footstool next to Isabelle. “Some in my family are born with unique abilities, Isabelle. The ability to touch the other side, to bring forth magic that allows us to see other worlds.
“What we see, what we feel, is never a surprise to us. Even at an early age. We just accept it as reality and learn to appreciate its strengths and manage its weaknesses.”
“So you’re saying that’s what I should learn to do.”
“Those who are born with any sort of gift must learn to adapt. Some do, some don’t.”
Isabelle didn’t quite see how being part demon was a gift. “Those who don’t adapt fall into darkness?”
Georgie shrugged. “If you can’t control your dark side, it will swallow you up until there’s nothing left of the light.”
Isabelle understood that all too well; she often felt like she was falling into a hole and being swallowed up. Like her dream. “How do I control it? How do you all control it? If you have these … gifts, and darkness goes with the light, how do you strike a balance and manage to stay on the good side?”
“It’s not something that can be taught, Isabelle,” Georgie said, leaning forward. “You simply have to want the light more than the darkness. And then it’s up to you to work at it to make sure the darkness doesn’t take over.”
Isabelle breathed in, let it out slowly. “That doesn’t make sense. No one wants to be evil.”
Georgie smiled, shook her head. “Don’t they? Evil can be so very tempting. Sometimes goodness requires sacrifice. It’s not always pleasant. Evil is easier. There’s always fun stuff on that side.”
Isabelle frowned. “They do that on purpose.”
Georgie laughed, the sound like a trickling waterfall, a delight to the senses. “Yes, they do. There has to be a lure. Otherwise, why would people go down that road?”
Isabelle sat on the floor and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, suddenly so tired she wasn’t sure she could go on. “I don’t know, Georgie. Sometimes it seems like no matter what road I choose, it’s the wrong one.”
Georgie leaned forward and stroked her hair, not saying a word. The gesture was comforting, as if her touch alone had settled peace over Isabelle. Isabelle tilted her head back and smiled. “Your touch has some magic in it.”
Georgie’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “Does it?”
“You tell me.”
“Sometimes, magic is whatever you wish to believe it is. Your own future can be that way, too, Isabelle. Don’t ever give up on yourself. As soon as you do, they’ll know. And they’ll win.”
“I have been fighting this. I know I have.”
“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” Georgie smiled. “Give Dalton the benefit of the doubt. He is a man, you know. He’ll make mistakes.”
Isabelle almost snorted at that. “Dalton knows exactly what he wants. And what he doesn’t want.”
“Does he?”
Now Isabelle was confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither does he. And Isabelle, he needs your help as much as you need his.”
“But—”
Georgie held up her hand. “Some things need to be experienced, not explained. Maybe you’re talking to the wrong person?”
Isabelle’s head was spinning as she made her way back to the cabin at dusk. Now she understood how poor Luke Skywalker felt in Star Wars. Having a conversation with Georgie was like talking to Yoda. The woman made no sense at all, talked in circles and left vague clues that Isabelle was supposed to unravel.
She didn’t like games, would much prefer that Georgie just slap her upside the head with the truth. Preferably in simple terms that she could understand.
“Some things need to be experienced, not explained,” she mumbled as she made her way up the walk toward the cabin. “What the hell does that mean?”
She thought spending the day with Georgie would provide some clarity. Instead, her head and her emotions were more muddled than ever. She needed a bath and a stiff drink. Maybe several drinks.
Dalton wasn’t inside when she walked in, which gave her some measure of relief. She wasn’t in the mood for confrontation or conversation. She’d done plenty of talking today and had no answers. She searched the liquor cabinet, fixed a vodka and cranberry juice, loaded it down with ice, and took it into the bathroom with her. Then she filled the tub with water and scented bubbles while she stripped. Once the tub was filled with steamy water, she climbed in and sank under the bubbles, lifted the glass to her lips, and took a couple huge gulps.
A stiff drink and a bath—the first things today that had actually helped. Within five minutes she was relaxed, eyes closed, her head leaning against the back of the tub. She emptied her mind of everything bugging her and just let it all go.
Really, she had to make another one of these drinks when she got out of the tub. It really helped. She lifted it to her lips and took another swallow, then smiled as it warmed her from the inside out. Perfect. A little buzz, the sweet smell of the bubbles, and a warm bath. She might just stay in this tub all night long. An empty head filled with some great vodka could do wonders to keep all the evils away.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry, didn’t know you were in here.”
Buzz kill. She opened her eyes and saw Dalton there, knowing her idea of heaven wasn’t going to last. “I’m in here.”
“I can see that now. When did you get back?”
She shrugged, not bothering to move. She wasn’t certain she could move, she was so content. Not even Dalton’s appearance could disrupt her nirvana. “Not sure. Twenty minutes ago, maybe.”
He leaned against the doorway and she made it a point not to notice the bulging muscles of his upper arms, or the way his shoulders glistened with sweat, or the streaks of dirt across his cheeks and neck. “What have you been doing today?”
“Did a little work out back for Georgie,” he said with a faint smile.
“Good for you.” She drained the glass and placed it on the floor by the tub.
“What are you having?” Dalton asked, picking up the empty glass.
“Vodka and cranberry.”
“Would you like another?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
He returned a couple minutes later with two large glasses, handing one to her.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the glass he offered to her.
Then he leaned against the sink and took a couple long swallows of his drink.
“Uh, Dalton?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m taking a bath here.”
“I can see that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I give up.” She downed half the contents of the glass in two swallows. This day was just getting more and more bizarre. Maybe she’d just drink until she passed out. She decided to ignore him. Maybe he’d go away.
He didn’t, just continued to lean against the counter, looking damn sexy in his dirt-stained jeans that hugged his muscled thighs, his sleeveless cotton shirt that was filthy and sweat-soaked, and what parts of his body were visible were tanned from spending the day in the blistering sun. At least the parts of him that didn’t sport streaks of dirt—which wasn’t much of him.
“You need a bath yourself,” she said, realizing that she’d been staring at him, and that her body had a definite reaction to looking at him. Even grimy from head to toe, Dalton radiated sex appeal. So unfair, especially since it was obvious he wasn’t projecting it on purpose. She didn’t think he had any idea what he was doing to her. And it was
a damn good thing all her pertinent body parts were hidden under miles of bubbles.
His lips curved, and she nearly groaned, but bit her lip instead.
“Is that an invitation?”
She frowned, looked away. “Don’t fuck with me, Dalton. I’m not in the mood.”
He drained his glass and set it on the counter, then stalked to the tub, taking his damn sweet time making his way toward her, even though it was only a few feet.
He crouched down and laid his arms on the side of the tub. “I’m not fucking with you, Isabelle.”
His face was only a foot from hers. He smelled sweaty, outdoorsy earthy, and all male. She found his scent not at all unpleasant, and rather arousing.
“Go away.” Her voice had lowered to nearly a whisper. She didn’t trust it not to waver. Damn him for making her feel like a woman. She should stand up and point him in the direction of the door. But she wasn’t all that certain she could, or would, ask him to leave.
Instead, he dipped his hands down the side of the tub into the water. “You don’t want me to go away.”
“Yes, I do.” She didn’t sound convincing, even to herself.
“I don’t want to go away.”
He waved his hands back and forth in the water, hovering so close to her left breast she felt the waves caress her nipple, harden it, and she had to stop breathing to keep from moaning. Really, this was ridiculous.
“I won’t ask you again.”
He pushed back and stood. “Then don’t ask.”
She wasn’t at all shocked when he drew his shirt off and undid the button of his jeans, then toed off his boots. He shucked his jeans and stood there gloriously naked in front of her, his cock in a semirigid state.
He made her mouth water, and her mind whirled with a mental list of about forty things she wanted to do with him in this bathroom, right now. But she couldn’t find her voice, and her limbs had become like lead. She could only watch as he stepped into the tub and situated himself at the opposite end, sliding his legs alongside hers.
She was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing, at least until he reached for her feet and set them on top of his rock hard stomach. Then she remembered to exhale.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He smiled. “Taking a bath.”
“You could have waited until I was finished.”
“What fun is that?”
“Dalton, we tried this last night, remember?”
“Vividly.”
His low, husky voice tore away at the walls she’d spent all day carefully constructing. She jerked her feet away from his grasp and scooted against the back of the tub. Unfortunately, sitting up lifted her breasts out of the water. She sank back down. Dalton grinned, grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed his face and arms, then dunked his head under the water, splashing it everywhere when he surfaced.
Her bubbles were slowly disappearing. Dalton had a wicked gleam in his eyes that Isabelle found both disconcerting and hot as blazes. She drew her legs up to her chest.
“The water’s getting cold.”
He leaned forward and turned the faucet on. Hot water streamed into the tub at the same time he pulled the drain plug. “We’ll let a little of the cold water out, and refill with hot.”
She clamped her lips together, reached for the bubble bath, and poured more in. “You’re going to smell like a girl.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“I don’t intend to smell you.”
“Are you sure?” He started to move forward.
Isabelle held up her hand. “Stop.”
“Come on, I’m clean now.”
“Quit teasing me.” He kept coming. “Dammit, Dalton, I mean it.”
That stopped him. He leaned back and laid his arms over the side of the tub. Dirty, he was sexy. Clean and wet, he was devastating. And his legs brushing up against hers, his feet sliding along her thighs and butt, were way too distracting.
“I really think we should get out.”
“You go first.”
She huffed out a sigh. “Really. You’re acting like a juvenile. I’m not playing.”
“Maybe you should.”
“And maybe you should stop playing games with me.”
His expression straightened then. “I’m not playing games, Isabelle. I’m dead serious.”
“Were you serious last night?”
He had the decency to avert his gaze for a few seconds before looking at her again, dragging his hand through his wet hair. “I don’t know what happened last night.”
“I do.”
“You do.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
“Do I have to spell it out? I’m a demon. You’re a human. You find me repulsive.”
He cocked a brow, frowned, then had the goddamn audacity to smile. And even worse, he laughed. Hard, long, and loud. If she’d had a weapon nearby, he’d be a dead man.
“Okay, we’re finished here.” She twisted, searching for the bath towel. Naked or not, she was through sitting here being humiliated. She reached for the towel, but Dalton grasped her ankles and jerked her back so hard she almost slipped under the water.
“We’re not done, Isabelle. Not by a long shot.”
“Are you out of your mind?” She fought for balance, tried to tug her legs out of his grasp, but he had a strong hold on her. He wasn’t hurting her, but he obviously had no intention of releasing her. “Let me go.”
“No. I’m in here, and we’re going to talk.” He released one of her ankles, but only to grab hold of the other foot. He began to massage the insole with both hands. God, it felt so good. He had strong fingers, and knew just where the trigger points were on her foot. All she could do was glare, and at the same time melt under the sweet assault of his fingers.
When he finished that foot, he picked up the other and did the same thing.
“I don’t hear you talking,” she said, tapping her fingers on the edge of the tub.
“Oh, yeah.” He smiled. “Sorry, I got distracted.” He lifted her foot out of the water and kissed her toes, one by one. “You have really beautiful feet.”
“Stop that.” She squeezed her thighs together, trying to banish the sensations evoked by his tongue on her toes. “Talk, or I really am going to get out of the tub.”
He released her foot, his expression changing. “Okay. Look, about last night. I’m sorry. I backed off, and I had no reason to.”
He had every reason to and she knew why. “I’m a demon. I wouldn’t want me, either.”
“Would you let me talk?”
“Fine.” This was pointless. And she still couldn’t believe she was sitting naked in the tub with him.
“I’ve tried to keep my distance from you.”
She cocked a brow.
“Yeah, I know. Let me finish. I wanted to give you space to deal with what happened in Italy, but it was more than that.”
“I know.”
His lips curled. “No, you don’t know.”
“I do. It’s okay. You have no idea what you’d be dealing with. Before, on the yacht in Italy, when we made love, you thought you were making love to a human. Now, you know you’re not.”
“What?”
“I’m a demon. I could …well, who knows what I could do in the throes of passion, especially considering what’s been going on with me since we got here. The demon could come out when we’re in the middle of—”
“Did it last night?”
“What?”
“When I had you stretched out on the kitchen table last night, was it the demon writhing, moaning, and climaxing, Isabelle?”
Damn him for bringing that up, for causing heat to ignite as she remembered how it felt to be laid out on the table, to remember his hand and mouth on her and how he’d made her feel.
“Was it?” he pressed.
“No.”
“That’s right, it wasn’t.”
“Then why the he
ll did you stop?” She met his gaze evenly, refusing to look away, even though it embarrassed her to ask the question.
“Because I was afraid I’d go too far.”
That wasn’t at all the answer she’d expected.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Isabelle stared at Dalton, not sure what to say in response to his admission.
“I don’t understand.” She was being honest. She had no clue what he’d meant when he said he was afraid of going too far. Hadn’t they been headed as far as they could go last night?
“I’m no … angel,” he said.
“I never thought you were.”
He lifted his hands out of the water, dragged them through his hair. “I was trying to be noble, to give you time to heal, to figure out for yourself what was going on inside you. But I hadn’t counted on what I felt for you.”
Her breath caught and held, afraid of what he’d say, afraid he’d stop and not say it at all.
“And you kept pushing me, when you had those … demon moments, I’d guess you’d call them. But me stopping last night had nothing to do with you being part demon. Last night it was the human Isabelle I was with. And it’s when you’re human that you get to me, when I really want you. Because then it’s just you and me. And it’s a little too real.” His gaze was so direct, penetrating her defenses.
“Tell me, Dalton.”
“You light a fire inside me. Whenever I’m around you it burns high and hot. I backed away from you last night because I’m afraid of what will happen if I let it run wild. Sometimes it seems like there’s this darkness inside me, and that if I tap into it I’ll hurt you. I’m not afraid of you, Isabelle. I’m afraid of me.”
Stunned speechless, Isabelle was at a loss for how to respond. He wanted her. He wasn’t repulsed by her or her demon blood. Everything she’d thought had been wrong. To be able to see the passion in his eyes, to know it was for her, was astounding. She’d never felt that special to a man before.
She did now.
And he thought it would frighten her? Oh, hell no. If anything, his need for her, and his reluctance to give her everything, only strengthened her.
As soon as she wrapped her head around all that, she smiled at him.