Travis turned to toss the wet towel over the clothes line, jumping back with a startled curse as a white streak of fur raced over his sneakers. He stared in surprise as the white blur swung around to hiss at him with such aggression that he steeled himself for a physical attack.
“Good, you are just in time for a late dinner.” Rissa’s soft voice made him shiver although the night air was still hot. She easily caught the white animal as it launched itself at her. He blinked as the woman smiled at him. She was holding a big, fluffy white cat in her arms; its eyes glowed like blue fire in the night. He could have sworn those eyes narrowed at him in a silent warning. “I’m sorry if she startled you. Theophyline likes to spy on people. She’s a curious soul.” The cat purred loudly and pressed her head up against the Witch’s hand. “I hope you’re hungry, Travis Holt.”
Rissa’s green eyes held a mischievous light that teased him as she turned to go around the corner of the cabin with a sexy sashay to her hips as she moved. He followed slowly, suddenly hungrier than he’d ever been, but he was unsure if she’d been referring to food.
Chapter Five
Rissa sat across from him at her little table and watched him push the beef stew around his bowl. He clearly didn’t trust her enough to eat her food. His glass of red wine was also untouched. She sighed as she took a spoonful of her own stew and popped it into her mouth. She smiled and washed it down with a healthy sip of her wine as he watched her. An exasperated breath left her as she placed her hands on the table.
“You seem hesitant to try my cooking? Tell me, are you always this untrusting of women? Or just the ones who come to your aid?” She felt a certain satisfaction as he gave her a guilty look.
“Of course not. I’m just not hungry at the moment. I ate a big dinner before I started driving.” His words sounded lame, and Rissa barely controlled her impulse to roll her eyes at him. She thought Guardians made better liars than this. If so, then this male needed to go back through training, pronto. She bit her lip and considered him seriously. He was obviously hungry after his invigorating bath and their sexual encounter. Her chest tightened as she thought of the pleasure he’d given her with his hard body. Shaking her head to keep those thoughts away, she tilted her head to the side with, what she hoped would be, a kind smile.
“I see. Then I suppose Theophyline wouldn’t mind your portion of the stew. She’s rather fond of it, you know.” She reached across, picked up his bowl, and set it on the floor. Her cat stalked toward it like a panther smelling a fresh kill. Rissa watched his lips pull into a frustrated frown as the cat dug into the stew. “Perhaps you’d be more inclined to dessert, but I have to warn you I didn’t make it.” She moved to a small cupboard above a primitive hand pump sink. He caught the Twinkie she tossed at his head. His dark eyes lit up in what she could only describe as pure rapture.
“Thank you. These are my favorite...” Wariness entered his happy expression as he looked up at her. Rissa wanted to thump him in frustration. Did the idiot really think she’d want to poison him? The realization that she had entertained the notion before they became one in the river made her want to groan. Somewhere between her dive in the water and watching him warily eye her stew, she’d ceased to think of him as her enemy. He was a man, one who was meant to be so much more than she’d expected when her vision warned her of his coming.
“Mr. Holt, I don’t want you to think badly of me. What happened in the river...” She bit her lip as he continued to watch her. “Well, I didn’t plan that. I don’t mean to say I didn’t enjoy it, but I don’t go around jumping on the first strange male who wanders my way.” Rissa felt her cheeks heat as he continued to silently observe her. She turned her back to him to pump some water into the sink for washing their dishes. He must have moved silently because she jumped when his hands rested on her shoulders. Travis gently turned her toward him.
“I think you can call me Travis, Rissa.” He grinned, and her stomach flipped with a warm excitement.
“Travis, of course.”
“As far as you jumping men, I’m pretty sure I was the first.”
“Oh.” She ducked her head to the side, embarrassment filling her with a dread she wasn’t used to. His strong hand gripped her chin to raise her face to his.
“Don’t be ashamed. It was...” He was clearly searching for a word that wouldn’t upset her.
“Magical.” The word hung in the air between them like a death bell.
***
“That is not the word I was looking for.” Travis had to look away from her searching gaze, his eyes landing on a dusty broom in the corner of the room. It reminded him of whom and what he was dealing with. He turned back to her, studying her pink cheeks and hesitant eyes. The innocent act was more than likely just that, an act. The old hag beneath the shiny package was laughing at his stupidity. She was cunning, he would give her that much.
“You don’t believe in magic, Travis? I can see you do not. Am I the only one who feels a connection between us?” There was a blatant honesty in her sweet voice, but he hardened his mind against giving into the impulse to pull her close and reassure her. His silence answered for him. She sighed in defeat as she looked down at his hand.
“Rissa...”
“I see. You wear a ring.” She pulled his left hand away from her face to study the big amethyst on his finger. Hurt green eyes glanced up at him in a silent accusation.
“It was my father’s ring.” He heard the harsh anger whipping in his tone. Her head jerked back as if he’d physically hit her. He instantly thought to gentle his emotions lest she delve deeper into his hatred. “I’m not married, silly woman. I wear it to honor him. It’s probably not the best hand to wear it on, but it fits better on the left.”
“I’m sorry.” Her soft voice echoed the sympathy and concern in her green gaze. “You must love him very much.” Her hand cupped his cheek as his jaw clenched. She couldn’t know how much he’d idolized his father. The leash on his need for vengeance was nearing the breaking point and still she touched his face as if she could calm him. He shook her hand off and turned to walk around the small living room.
“Tell me, do you live here all year round?” He hoped his question was casual, easy. He needed to open a channel of communication that would give him leads to the next member of her coven. Getting back to his main agenda was the only way he thought to avoid the messy complications of their current discussion.
“No. I come here when I need to be alone. You never told me, who were you on your way to see on the mountain? I might know them.” He smiled as he touched a stack of books. He was surprised to see they were classic works of the Bronte sisters, Steinbeck, Hemingway, and Frost.
“I was on my way to see Grant Irshwin and his family. They have a lodge on the river farther upstream. He’s a friend of a friend and I was invited for a summer party.” He’d not only done his research on the Irshwin family, but had also wheedled an invitation to their annual barbeque.
“I know Grant’s daughter Felicity. When the sun comes up, I will take you to their lodge.” He turned to see the suspicious look she was giving him.
“I would really appreciate that, but given what occurred in the river, it might be better if you just point me in the general direction.” Her head tilted at his words and a small smile lit up her face.
“Are you scared of me, Travis?” She pushed away from the sink to slowly approach him. He noticed her bare toes beneath the long skirt that swayed around her legs and trim hips. His heart rate increased with the look of hunger she directed at him. He picked up the closest thing at hand, a small, white book with a soft leather cover.
“Why would I be scared of you, Rissa?” He looked down at the book in his hand, and his breath hitched in his chest. In bold black ink was her name,
Rissalynn Jennings
. Beneath the elegant writing was the one word that damned her soul.
Grimoire
.
Travis’s fingers tightened on Rissa’s book of magic. It was a collection of spells and black deeds that gave the Witch her powers. His head jerked up from the book to lock with her annoyed gaze.
“I guess that would be reason enough.” Her soft words sent a shiver of warning up his spine. He placed a hand over his amulet, in a move of habit. There was no heat beneath his palm, which surprised him. He was in the presence of a black-hearted Witch and his amulet of protection wasn’t even working. He looked down at the book in his hand trying to force his brain to work.
“Your diary?” He tossed it easily back on the stand on top of the other books. “I don’t go around reading people’s personal thoughts, Rissa. I know all I need to know.” He took a deep breath, sent up a prayer that his move was a wise one, and stalked her.
“Do you?” Her eyes widened in fear as he walked right into her.
“Don’t I?” Travis cupped her face with both hands, holding her still as he kissed her with an urgency only half faked. His traitorous body was already rising with anticipation as he came flush against her softness. Her taste was familiar to him now. It was sweet and tempting, her lips pliant and warm beneath his as he deepened the kiss.
Her hands slid up his chest with a caress that had his blood flowing hot, his mind emptying of all thoughts, all worries. Her fingers slid into and tangled within his hair, tying the long strands around them as she met his fiercely thrusting tongue with her own in a wanton demand. Travis placed his hands beneath her arms to pick her up with ease as he moved to set her on the counter by the sink. Dishes, set out to dry on a towel, clanked and rolled as she displaced them, but he didn’t care if they broke as he moved between her legs to recapture her soft mouth.
His hands moved to slip the sleeve off her shoulder as he broke the kiss to slide his teeth over her bared skin. Her scent, rose oil and herbs, washed over him in a calming effect. His hand brushed her braid as he tugged her blouse down to free a perky breast that begged for his touch. Instead of following his baser instincts, Travis grasped the leather tie of her braid and tugged it off to toss it over his shoulder.
“You should never tie your hair back, Rissa.” He pulled back to look at her as his fingers freed the thick, silken tresses. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, making him want to drool as she looked wild and wanton before him with one breast peeking out of the dark waves. “I shouldn’t be doing this.” He shook his head, pushing a shaking hand through his hair. One time could be called stupid, but twice in one night, not a mistake so much as a habit-forming act.
“Nor should I,” Rissa whispered. “I should never have let you touch me, but what is meant, is meant. You can’t fight fate.” She pulled him back down to her, brushing her lips gently against his in a sweet kiss that touched some secret place within him. He held her shoulders as he let passion sweep over him. He realized she was right. Fate had thrown them together, giving him a means to gain her trust. He pushed his emotions aside as he let his body decide his path. He would physically love this woman, use her body to gain access to her mind, and finally destroy her and her coven.
“One should never fight fate.” He growled as he lifted her off the counter. “Where...”
“Bedroom is through that door.” She smiled and kissed the sensitive spot below his neck as he carried her, still wrapped around his waist, through the door and into the darkened room. A candle flickered to life on the stand beside a double bed. Travis almost dropped her as he stared at the burning wick. She was using magic right in front of him. Was she crazy, or that sure that he wouldn’t punish her for it? He decided it didn’t matter as her teeth nipped his earlobe. Justice would find her at some point.
“Nice bedroom.” It was barren, except for a dresser, the bed, a stand, and a round mirror. The only feminine things about the room were a potted plant in the window sill and the frilly lace sheets beneath a white comforter.
“Tell me you’re not here to critique my home-making skills. I failed home economics.” She gave him a teasing smile as she threaded her fingers through his thick hair.
“Which part, the cooking or sewing?”
“Oh, I can cook. I just can’t make curtains to save my soul.” She placed a quick kiss on his lips.
“Good thing I’m not in need of any curtains right now.” He placed a knee on the bed and lowered them to the soft mattress. Her body was soft and pliant, welcoming his with open arms. Long dark hair fanned out, red highlights glinting in the low candlelight against the stark white of the pillow. Travis wanted nothing more than to melt into her as her emerald-colored eyes sparkled. She watched him with a hunger that matched his own as he completely lowered himself on top of her. Warm arms wrapped around him, holding him to her with hands that heated his flesh.
“What are you in need of,
dearie?
” One dark eyebrow rose as she grinned up at him with mischief glowing in her dark eyes.
“You. Plain and simple.” He swallowed hard as her expression softened.
“You have me.” The whisper was soft and inviting, a beckoning acceptance to fulfill every need, every wish he might ask of her. It humbled him, even though he knew what she was. In that one moment in time she wasn’t a Witch, wasn’t his enemy, she was a woman willing to share his every dream. He slowly bent his head to kiss her with a gentleness that was foreign to him.
Chapter Six
Rissa sank into his kiss with a sigh of surrender. She was his. There was no fighting the need, the rightness of holding his hot body within her arms. She reveled in the hard contours of his muscular back. He was solid and steady, pure steel beneath her palms. She slipped her hands down his back to grip the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up with a courage she was condemned for in her coven. Rissa was an impulsive Witch; one who was constantly jumping into spells and situations with a zest for knowledge that terrified and astonished her parents. Her father would be so appalled to see her beneath a Guardian!
This was why her parents had promised her to Gerimaia Garlock. He was a powerful Witch, older than her father in human years. Though he kept his youthful appearance, Rissa knew what lay beneath the handsome veneer. He was cold and used to enforcing the rules of their coven as the Witch Hammer. He would smother her adventurous spirit with his habit of zealous conformity, an objective her parents were hoping for.