When I returned to the table, I noticed everyone starting in on their dinners. Christa smiled up at me and I was relieved to have her by my side. I took my place, but nerves and excitement shredded any appetite I might have had. I picked at the vegetables, but just managed to move them around the plate. Giving up on eating anything, I looked about the room at the people who would comprise our union. I wondered how many of them would join us and how many would move on or worse, join Bella.
“When does the bar open?” Ryder asked Rand with a sneer.
Rand didn’t look up from his plate. “I imagine after we’ve finished our dinner.”
Ryder pushed his untouched plate away. “I’m done.”
As he stood and moved toward the bar, I noticed how big he was. Talk about a menacing looking person. Even though he was incredibly rude, he did bring back two bottles of wine for the table and upon offering me a glass, I welcomed it wholeheartedly.
“Is anyone teachin’ the witch self defense?” he asked the table and settled back into his seat.
I wasn’t even aware he was talking about me until Rand glanced at me.
“No, we’ve been focusing on other matters,” he said.
“What do I need self defense for if I have magic?” I asked.
Ryder leaned back in his seat and eyed me as he took a long and exaggerated gulp of his wine. “Your magic ain’t gonna work on me or any other vampire. If I was attackin’ you, I’d break you in half.”
Shocked by his response, I said nothing, but looked at Rand for reassurance.
Rand smiled at my reaction. “You have a vali point.”
Not exactly the reassurance I wanted.
Ryder nodded. “I could teach her self-defense.”
“No,” I blurted and everyone regarded me with surprise. There was no way in hell I wanted anything more to do with this horrid creature. “I meant, I have tutors who could teach me.”
“What, the fairies?” Ryder snorted. “I eat fairies for dinner.”
Shocked, I said nothing and turned to face Rand, but the jerk was actually smiling!
“Ryder is a self defense expert,” Rand said, as if in explanation to why he was wearing that damned smile.
It was Gwynn’s turn to argue the idea. “Yes, but he’s going to be busy working with me on the unionizing efforts. I’m certain someone else can train the witch.”
While I didn’t appreciate being referred to as “the witch,” I agreed with her one hundred percent. “I really wouldn’t want to be a hindrance,” I started.
“If you’re so important, I can make time to train you,” Ryder responded.
I really wanted to say that I wasn’t important but just dropped my head and faced the pile of food before me. God, I was so pissed off. And what bothered me most was that Rand seemed to champion the idea. Could this night get any worse?
You are awfully quiet.
It was Rand’s voice in my head. I looked up at him. Why would you agree to let him train me? He’s horrible!
He’s the best person to train you—he’s right, you do need to learn to defend yourself.
But, I don’t trust him!
Did you really think I’d leave you alone with him? I’ll be right there with you.
That made me feel a little better. How many times will I have to meet with him?
Until you can adequately protect yourself.
I didn’t respond, but turned my attention away from him, put out with the whole thing. The sound of music met my ears and I turned to watch as people began nearing the dance floor. I thought it was a waltz if I had to guess, but I wasn’t too familiar with classical music. This had to be the weirdest night of my life. Surrounded by creatures of the Underworld and now a waltz?
I downed the remnants of my glass and Ryder refilled it. I didn’t say anything but nodded my thanks, noting Gwynn hanging on him like a toupee on a bald man. If she was attempting to talk him out of training me, I wished her much success.
He pulled away from her and leaned in closer to me. “You’ll thank me one day.”
It would be a cold day in hell before those words ever spied from my lips.
Christa finished her glass of wine and accepted another from Ryder. I wished I could teleconverse with her to see what she thought of the bastard. The waltz ended and Bon Jovi’s “Living in Sin” came on, making me think this night couldn’t get any odder.
Christa grabbed my hand when I thought she would and with a great big smile, she led me to the dance floor. I was only too happy to appease her in order to escape the confines of the table and Ryder’s insistent gaze. I’d taken my glass of wine with me and downed the remnants, giving myself a little liquid courage.
After dancing three songs, I started feeling better. At the start of the fourth song, I decided I needed a rest and returned to the table. It was empty aside from Rand who leaned back in his chair, regarding the scenery around him with interest.
I took the seat next to him and watched the throng of dancers pulsate to the rhythm of the music.
“Aren’t you a dancer?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I prefer the old style of dancing.” He turned his attention to me and I dropped my gaze.
“You look beautiful tonight, I didn’t get to tell you earlier.”
I offered a small smile in thanks as thoughts of reflection coursed through me. My life had changed in ways I’d never have imagined. Even though there had been bad moments and my future was uncertain, I’d have to say it had changed for the better.
“It’s funny where you end up in life,” I said, reaching for a glass of water.
“How so?”
“A year ago, no, six months ago, if someone were to tell me I’d be dancing with a bunch of witches, wolves and vampires, I’d say they were crazy.”
Rand laughed. “Destiny is a funny thing.”
“Do you think that’s what it is?”
“I do,” he answered as Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” came on. This only happened to be one of my favorite songs, and so I stood up and reached for Rand’s hand.
“It’s not a waltz, but it’s slow enough, come on.”
Rand took my hand and as we walked to the dance floor together, I caught Christa’s eye. She waved as she mouthed the words to the song—this was one of her favorites too.
Rand grabbed hold of my waist as we started dancing. I had to give it to him, he wasn’t half-bad.
“I actually like this song too. I liked it when it first came out,” he whispered in my ear and I laughed.
It was wonderful being in his arms, being so close to him. The scent of his aftershave hit me and I had to inhale, thinking it the best aphrodisiac. He twirled me around and caught me even more closely than he’d been holding me before. For a moment, I could pretend there was no tension between us, the danwe could admit our feelings for one another…that we had admitted them.
“I should teach you to waltz sometime, I imagine you’d be wonderful,” he whispered.
I didn’t notice that another song had started until it was almost halfway over. I did notice that Rand was now holding me against him, very closely. I closed my eyes and settled my head against the crook of his neck. Melting into him, I could feel every hard plane of his chest, every muscle.
“You make our work relationship very difficult on me,” he said as his hand began stroking my waist
“These are your rules we’re playing by, not mine,” I answered with no amount of apology.
“I second guess them every day.” He squeezed my waist. I lifted my head just in time to see Trent grabbing Rand’s collar. Before anyone could stop him, he yanked Rand from my grasp and punched him across the face. Rand, completely unaware, fell to the ground, but was up an instant later, his lip busted and bleeding. A few women screamed, and I wasn’t sure, I might have been one of them.
Realizing I had to do something, I jumped between the two of them and grabbed Trent’s jacket, trying to keep him from going after Rand again
. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed as he turned his attention to me with a sneer.
“That bastard has been after you all along,” Trent said and grabbed hold of my waist, pulling me into his hard body.
I pushed against him, but his grip was iron strong.
The entire room was silent as everyone’s attention centered on Rand who was facing Trent with an anger the likes of which I’d never seen before. He wore the façade of calm, but his eyes were raging, his hands fisted. His aura was doing its own dance of ire, billowing purple against the rage and humiliation Rand must’ve been feeling.
“Let go of her,” Rand seethed.
Trent tightened his grip on me, and I dug my nails into his arm, pushing against him.
“You’re making a drunk fool of yourself,” I seethed.
“If you don’t bloody well let go of her now, I will kill you,” Rand warned and his eyes were deadly serious. Dear God, he would.
Even though Trent was far down my list of favorite people, I couldn’t say I wanted to see him dead. I glanced at Rand’s determined countenance and his eyes spelled it out in no uncertain terms. Trent was lucky he was still alive.
“Don’t be a moron, you can’t defeat him,” I whispered, hoping Trent would back down. Then I remembered I was a witch and imagined a powerful burst of electricity coursing through Trent, not something too potent but just enough to wake him the hell up. Trent jumped and I stepped away from him.
“Go then,” he growled, the hairs on his arm all standing to attention—hmm, maybe I’d jolted him with a little too much energy.
“I want you to leave,” Rand said and I could see he was subduing himself. He’d always hated Trent and I imagined it was all he could do to keep himself in check.
Trent laughed and made a move for the door, but being the bastard he was, had to get the last word in. “Jolie, when you get sick of the warlock, you know where to find me.”
SIXTEEN
As I sat in my room and removed my earrings, I couldn’t help but play back the events of the night. What had Trent been thinking? God, I was almost embarrassed I’d dated him considering what an idiot he’d turned out to be. I was surprised Rand hadn’t killed him on the spot.
Rand.
I couldn’t suppress the heat that started at the top of my head and coursed through my entire body. I’d been seriously misled to think Trent had in any way dissipated my feelings for Rand. I was as crazy about him now as I always had been. Trent had just been a minor interlude in the symphony known as Rand.
I shook my head against the onslaught of emotion that claimed my already fragile temperament and faced myself in the mirror. I, Jolie Wilkins, never imagined it possible that two men would fight over me; things like that just didn’t happen to me. Well, I guess now they did.
I sighed and turned around, thinking I should get undressed and go to bed. The thought held no temptation—I wasn’t tired, even though it was late and I’d spent enough adrenalin to wipe out a small army. There was an insistent hum alive in my head that would prohibit me from sleeping—a hum of thoughts regarding Rand: if he were sleeping, how his lip was, if he was mad at me.
I suddenly remembered Rand telling me in Chicago that he could tell when I was sleeping by sending…mental feelers, I think he’d called them. Hmm, maybe it was worth a shot. I closed my eyes and imagined Rand, but from there, I wasn’t sure what to do. After a few seconds of getting myself all hot and bothered as my dream Rand happened to be naked, I opened my eyes.
In a moment of spontaneity, I slipped my feet back into my four-inch heels and grabbed my room key that had been ogling me from the bed stand all night. If the damned thing were capable, it’d be smiling and winking at me about now, knowing I was headed for the elevator that would take me to Rand’s floor.
Once in the elevator, the muzac floating through the walls made my stomach clench, and I had to talk myself out of hitting the button to take me back to my room. The dinging of the elevator doors announced Rand’s floor and interrupted the doubt clouding my mind. I didn’t separate myself from the wall and just stared at the hallway as if a three-headed gorgon awaited me at the end of it. The doors started to close, and I prohibited their marriage with my arm.
I was on his damn floor; I had to get out. I took a step forward, feeling like I was wading through drying glue. Would Rand tell me to get lost? Maybe he wanted to be alone. Maybe he was angry and blamed me r the incident? I guess if anyone should be blamed, it was me—it was my fault I’d dated the bastard Trent in the first place.
If I could have yelled at myself, I would have. There was no way this was my fault—I was just looking for an excuse not to knock on Rand’s door. Well, the doubts in my mind wouldn’t win. I raised my hand with authority and aimed my fist to strike the door when it opened.
“Took you long enough.”
Rand stood before me and just like that, my confidence leaked out of me as if I were a sieve. Feeling as ineffectual as a bowl of spaghetti, I hesitated, cursing myself for coming up here in the first place. I faced the hallway before me and thought if I took off my shoes, I could probably run and get to the elevator before he stepped foot in the hall.
“I…how did you know I was standing here?” I said, and my voice wavered.
I tried to keep my gaze from traveling down his white t-shirt and boxers. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting anyone. The spacious width of his pectorals protruded through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, and I could just make out the dusting of hair atop them.
His face, Jolie, focus on his face dammit!
“I could sense you from the elevator.”
I swallowed the butterflies that were forcing themselves up my throat. My attention shifted to the amused smile alight on his lips, and I had to force down the flush threatening to steal my cheeks. His lip had healed, courtesy of his magic. He didn’t say anything right away but stood looking at me while I tried to make my mouth work.
“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” I blurted haplessly.
“Come in.” He held the door open, and the darkness of the room seemed to fight the light of the hallway. A lone yellow glow from the corner of the room leant the darkness a jaundiced sort of feel.
I took a step forward until he and I were parallel, then I hesitated. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt you…” I started, suddenly realizing it might look as if I’d come here to have sex with him. That hadn’t been my goal. I’m not sure what had been.
Rand chuckled and settled his hand on my hip. With a gentle nudge, he pushed me over the threshold. “You’ve already interrupted me, so no harm done.”
I timidly stepped inside as the subtle notes of “Rhapsody in Blue” twirled around me, as if dancing with my breath. When I turned to face him, my attention quickly swept over his muscular and tan legs. How he was able to maintain that golden color year-round in England was beyond me. That had to be warlock magic. I dropped my gaze, finding it too difficult to look upon him in his current state of undress.
“I wanted to apologize,” I said, not wanting him to think I’d come for any other reason. He closed the door and turned toward me.
“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”
I shook my head. “I should’ve listened to you about Trent.” I’m one othose people who has a tough time saying I’m wrong. But once the words were out, I was proud of myself. I guess, in a weird way, it felt good to say I’d royally f’ed up.
He neared a small kitchenette area and poured two glasses of wine, handing one to me. “You needed to find out for yourself.”
Hmm, so he wasn’t going to play the part of: I told you so.
I shook my head. Now that I’d come out on a limb and admitted I was wrong, I didn’t want him to take that away from me. “I should’ve just listened to you, and I can’t help but think that it’s my fault you got punched.” I took a sip of the wine, wishing it were an elixir of fortitude and courage.
“How’s your lip?”
He
whetted his lip with his tongue, and I thought it the most erotic thing a man had ever done. “Healed,” he said as he pulled a bar stool out and perched atop it. Swirling the wine in his glass, he studied me. “It’s the wolf’s fault that he punched me. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Well, I did date him.”
Rand chuckled, the wine in his glass swirling up the sides as if echoing the sentiment. “Okay, you win, I suppose I can fault you for that.”
I couldn’t help myself as I stepped closer to him, needing to feel his warmth in the same way a junkie needs his next fix. Only inches away, he dropped his smile and merely watched me as I put my wine glass on the side table. I stepped between his legs and nearly lost my nerve when I felt his hot breath against my bare shoulders.
“Let me see your lip,” I said and tilted his face down, pretending to inspect his mouth.
I ran my thumb across his plump bottom lip, and he closed his eyes, his long black lashes gracing the tops of his angular cheeks. My heart pushed against my ribs, pumping so much blood, I almost felt faint. I knew what I would do, maybe I’d known even before I’d come up here. I leaned down, replacing my fingers with my lips. The kiss was tender, only skimming the surface of his mouth with my own. He didn’t flinch or demand more. He let me explore him. I ran the tips of my fingers down the sides of his face, noting how soft his skin was, how the merest indication of stubble grazed my fingertips.
Suddenly overcome with the biting need to gaze on his exquisite face, I pulled away, my index finger perched at the bottom of his cheek. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered.
Rand opened his chocolate eyes. I could almost see the tempest of emotions flooding his gaze—how he fought against himself, knowing we shouldn’t want one another but also realizing the futility in thinking it. He set his glass of wine down next to mine and wrapped his arms around my lower waist, imprisoning my torso against his chest. I smiled down at him and braced my arms on the counter, on either side of his head.