Erion gave a small nod. He wanted nothing more than to
come
, buried full hilt inside of her.
Fuck
. He’d been here all of sixty seconds and already wanted too much. Was it too much?
Maybe…just once, he could touch her as a man. Erion cut off the thought. His response to her was part of their dual nature of human and element, both sides needing physical and emotional connections.
She squatted again, and he ran his gaze down her red hair and past her waist to the shapely ass. Damn the Fire Element for hunting her. And damn himself for wanting her so badly.
He yanked his gaze back to the shelf she was studying and forced an even voice. “Do you ever give private showings?”
Kenna paused, fingers lightly grasping a tip of red cane, a rod of colored glass, from the lower shelf.
“I’d love to see more of your work,” he added before she could refuse.
She pulled the red cane from the shelf, inhaled deeply, and sighed. Erion tensed, certain the moment of silence was the worst of his life.
“I’m working today,” she said. “Well, after I fix the furnace. I think the glory hole overheated. Gotta be the temp valve.” She lifted the valve over her head and wiggled it. “I should be up and blowing in no time.” She pivoted in her squat and looked up at him. “So you really like my work?”
Sweat beaded on his brow. “Absolutely.” It wasn’t a lie. “Your perspective is…interesting.”
“Interesting?”
He smiled, chasing the worry from her piercing hazel eyes. “Interesting and beautiful.”
Like you.
“Wouldn’t be quite a private showing,” she said. “But I could give you a preview.”
Sight of the uncertain smile that lifted a corner of her mouth brought an unfamiliar rush of emotion. Understanding hit. He already felt too much for her. Pain cut through Erion as if his insides were being carved out with a dull knife. It wasn’t the need to fuck Kenna or even bond with her that compelled him to be near her. Yes, he wanted all that, God knew how he wanted it, but the underlying need that drove him was a far more powerful force than the desire to touch her body or fire.
Fear unlike any Erion had ever experienced rose to the surface in a rush. If Aiden discovered the truth, Kenna would be in even more danger than she already was. Because Erion wouldn’t be able to protect her.
Chapter Four
Kenna stared into deep-set chocolate eyes flecked with gold. What the hell was she doing? Just because the guy smelled like rain and woods didn’t mean she should flirt shamelessly. Okay, he looked fabulous, tall—she bet standing next to him, her gaze would meet his neck, and what a nice neck, not thick like a bodybuilder, but fit. Bronzed skin that conjured pictures of Aztec gods and the orgies in their honor.
His shirt, taut across sculpted muscle, revealed contoured pectorals and a flat stomach. A curtain of shiny black hair, pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck with a piece of leather, hung to the middle of his back. Her eyes tracked lower to the bulging fly of his jeans.
Hell, no! She wasn’t going there. She knew plenty of handsome men. Aiden was gorgeous, but she’d kicked him to the curb just that morning. What happened to the alone time she so desperately coveted? She’d wanted to tap into that sexual energy, and now all she could think about was having this dark-haired, dark-eyed man tap into her—balls-deep.
Heat radiated from her pussy, and fever swept through her body. Too hot. A warning flashed in her head.
Sensory overload
. Look away. Shit. Her nipples hardened beneath her lace bra and rose to visible peaks, poking through her pink T-shirt. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. His gaze hadn’t dropped to her breasts but instead stared directly into her eyes.
Kenna licked her dry lips. “Do you have something to write on? I’ll give you directions.”
He grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Let me take that.” He gently disengaged the valve from her fingers, and she started alongside him toward the front of the store.
“Wait.” Kenna halted. “I need a frame and wall mount.”
“Back wall, on the left,” the clerk called from the register.
“Thanks.” She weaved one row over and hurried toward the rear of the store. Her heart pounded.
What is the matter with me?
“Over there?” a deep male voice said behind her.
“Jeezus!” She spun.
Her breath caught at the sheer power in Eric’s tapered torso and broad shoulders only inches from her face. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Why hadn’t she heard him following her?
He pointed past the corner of the aisle where they stood.
“Huh?” she said.
“The frames.”
Kenna slid her gaze along his muscular arm past the long forefinger to a high shelf on the back wall where an assortment of wood frames was stacked. She jerked her gaze back to his. Amusement sparkled in his eyes.
She forced a level tone and said, “Thanks,” then took four steps to the shelf.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him standing still as a statue as she flipped through the frames until she found an intricately carved, rich wood frame with scrollwork along the side. She faced him.
He smiled. “Ready?”
Kenna nodded, and he waited for her to come up alongside before walking toward the front of the store. As they rounded the shelf, she dropped back a step and let out a silent breath at the sight of black jeans defining a firm ass. The sexual tension that had hummed since early morning strung taut. Nice rounded globes, and if the hidden delights in front were as impressive as the rear…
Yeah, she’d blow him, but she intended to stay on course. She had a show to prepare for. However, she could blow long, thick, phallic vases in his honor. Once cooled, she’d run her hands along the smooth contours while thinking of him. Damn, maybe she ought to just blow a glass dildo. Then she could imagine him while she plunged the object deep into her channel.
What in the hell was wrong with her? She’d morphed into an overheated sex fiend. Warmth pooled in her core and licked at her erogenous zones.
He set her supplies on the counter. Movement in the cabled muscles of his arms inspired fluid curves and spiraling colors within her imagination. Maybe he was just what she needed.
Contrast between colors, open and closed forms, and the body wraps. Yes, the body wraps. The stripe of color applied to the body of the blown glass. The vision gave way to images of her body wrapped with his. It would be too easy to toss her blowpipe to blow his pipe. Glass wouldn’t be the only thing heating up.
He smiled at her. Her heart pounded as if…as if she knew him. Not just the scent that still lingered from her erotic dream, but a baser emotional connection.
Déjà vu
. She pushed the ridiculous thought aside. She’d probably noticed him at an exhibit. And then forgotten that strong square jaw, straight nose, and thick brows. She focused on his mouth. Given the chance, that mouth could wreak havoc on a woman’s body…her body.
Damn, did the store have the heat on? Sweat trickled between her breasts. Wetness dampened her panties. Her glass wasn’t the only reason she wanted to take Eric to the gallery. She was interested. He seemed to be as well.
She grabbed her bag of supplies and faced him.
“I’ll follow you,” he said before she could suggest it.
“Perfect.” She preceded him out of the store, aware of his gaze boring into her back. She went to her truck and watched Eric climb behind the wheel of a silver coupe with black-tinted windows. Once behind the wheel, she waved as she passed him in the parking lot.
The gallery wasn’t far, not far enough for her to reconsider her decision to take a perfect stranger there during off-business hours. She checked her rearview mirror. Eric hadn’t reconsidered either.
A few minutes later, they pulled into the nearly vacant parking lot of the large building. Michael’s Jag sat parked in his reserved space. At least she wouldn’t be alone with Eric. That thought quelled the ache between her legs. But not by much.
Eric pulled in beside her and stepped from his vehicle. A crisp morning breeze scented the air. He turned into the gust and breathed deeply. His broad chest expanded, stretching the fabric of his shirt as he rolled his strong shoulders. He faced her and smiled.
Kenna melted. A spark of awareness bloomed into something indefinable. Something she’d never felt before but liked.
He approached. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Um. Yeah.” She pointed to double steel doors next to a large bay door. “We can go in the back. Michael’s here.”
Eric followed her across the parking lot. The easy cadence of their walk belied the wild pounding in her chest. The air around her seemed to sizzle with his nearness. Adrenaline thrummed through her body. She was excited to show him her art. Having the approval of Michael validated her work, but Eric was more like the people who would come to her show. His impression could give her a glimpse into how she might be received by the public. They reached the door, and she pressed the doorbell to the right.
“This place is huge.” Eric’s gaze slid up the two-story tall brick building to where stained-glass windows lined the upper floor.
“It used to be a church.”
The metal door clanked as a slide bolt unlocked from the inside. The door slowly opened until Michael stood in the doorway.
“Kenna, sweetheart, what are you doing here?” He grasped her shoulders and kissed each cheek. “You should be in your shop creating masterpieces for the show.” The teasing note of reprimand emphasized his obvious pride.
Kenna smiled. “I will be later today. I wanted to show my friend”—she glanced to Eric—”some of the pieces for the show.”
Michael’s gaze raked over Eric, and Kenna nearly laughed when he crooned, “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” She understood the attraction.
He held the door open for them. Eric paused, eyes intently on her, then he took a pensive step forward. Familiarity washed over her as she followed him inside. She shook off the eerie feeling.
“There are coffee and croissants in the galley.” Michael relocked the door. “Help yourself and come to my office before you leave.”
“Sure. And thanks. I’m starving.”
Kenna led Eric down a long corridor to a stock room where her pieces were being stored. She twisted the handle and pushed open the heavy door. Eric closed the space between them, his chest brushing her back as he braced his palm on the door and held it open.
She shifted, staring in his face. His lips were so close. Stubble shadowed his angular jaw. This close, she could see his eyes weren’t just brown. Copper and gold swirled through the mesmerizing irises. He held her spellbound. Her breath caught in her chest, and her pulse spiked. What the hell was this ball of hot need simmering in her belly?
****
Erion was in trouble. Heat radiated off Kenna in waves. Heat meant for him. How in hell was it possible that she was his mate? Legend said that when the great wizard Siusaidh took earth, wind, fire, and air from the chaos of Ghen, he tore them apart at their core and commingled their essences with humans to create the Ryalda—Erion and Kenna’s ancestors. The separate pieces now sought their other halves in a wild need to coalesce. Quantum entanglement is what modern science called the phenomena: two parts of the same entity. Somewhere in his and Kenna’s history, they had shared a
spark
, an infinitesimal piece of matter that triggered the instinct to mate—
at all cost.
Worse, the joining, the moment the
sparks
connected, was the weakest moment in an Element’s existence.
Kenna shifted, jarring him back to her as she felt along the wall and flipped the switch. Overhead lighting flickered, then flared bright. He followed her into the large open room, letting the door click shut behind them. Metal racks filled with small crates and boxes lined the walls. Larger crates and boxes were stacked in groups throughout the room.
Kenna dropped her keys on a long table in the center of the room, then crossed to a group of crates near the right wall. She lifted the lid from the largest crate and knelt. Carefully, she parted the packing straw and reached inside.
“I made this using the incalmo technique.” She lifted a large vase. Green, topaz, and royal blue were ribboned in separate sections. Sparkles glittered within the vibrant emerald green at the top. “Each section has to be blown separately, then joined while the glass is still hot.”
Erion stood transfixed, staring as her finger traced the smooth seams upward where the color grew more intense near the top. Blood rushed into his shaft as he envisioned her mapping the planes of his body with the same delicate touch.
“Michael has a perfect spot for the piece,” she went on. “A beam of light will shine through the glass, making the colors explode.” Excitement laced her voice. Her chest rose and fell with each warm breath that passed over her soft, plump lips.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
Her head snapped up, and he cursed when her eyes lowered with understanding. Dammit, he’d been staring. He swallowed the torrent of desire barely kept in check and forced his attention on the glass. “Show me another.”
For the next twenty minutes, Kenna sifted through the crates, lifting the fragile works of art and trusting him to handle them. She became engrossed in sharing what inspired the individual pieces.
“I’m nervous and excited,” she said as she repacked a fluted bowl in its small crate. “This is my first major exhibit. One bad show can end a career before it begins.” She carefully set the crate back on the shelf. “The glass-blowing world isn’t exactly breaking open. Only a few artists even have names you’d recognize.”
Erion nodded as he rested his hip against the edge of a large crate. “You’ll do great. Your work is special.”
She paused, head cocked to one side. “Why do I feel like I know you?”
Breath froze in his lungs. Fuck, her element recognized him. His arrested thoughts flashed to her room…her bed. His mind raced. Was this because they were mates, or had he imprinted himself on her last night?