Prince of Air and Darkness (22 page)

There was a certain logic to what Jackson was saying, Kiera had to admit. She hadn’t slept with a man in almost two years, and there was no denying how badly her body wanted her to end her long abstinence. It would be logical to worry that Hunter hadn’t given up on his nefarious mission, but that was a worry easily taken care of.

No, the danger of getting into Hunter’s bed was much more insidious than that, and Kiera would be a fool to ignore it.

While Kiera was mulling over what Jackson had said and what she was feeling, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket. She frowned when he opened it up, then blushed when he pulled out a foil-wrapped condom.

“I’m sure if you have any of these lying around, they’re long expired. And even if you go on the pill, it’ll take a while to start working.” He flapped the little package back and forth with his fingers. “You can be sure Hunter hasn’t tampered with this.”

He tossed it to her, and she caught it more by reflex than because she wanted to.

“I would have to be the world’s biggest idiot to sleep with Hunter after all this,” she said, but she heard the hint of longing in her own voice.

“Or maybe there’s a reason you’re drawn to him despite everything you know. Maybe he’s The One.”

Kiera rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.” Even her mom, the true believer, was beginning to have doubts. When Kiera had tentatively asked her last night about Alonso—the man her mom had so recently been certain was her soul mate—the awkward silence and averted gaze had told her instantly that she wouldn’t be having a new stepfather anytime soon.

“I know,” Jackson said. “But I’m beginning to think
I
do. The energy between you and Hunter was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It has to mean something.”

Yeah, it meant there was a ton of physical chemistry between her and Hunter. That did
not
mean he was The One, or that The One even existed.

Jackson sat back in the couch, making himself comfortable and shrugging one shoulder. “Believe it or don’t believe it, whatever. If I’m right, you’ll end up in his bed one way or another, despite all the doubts. So make a doctor’s appointment and get a prescription. You should be prepared, just in case. I have been known to be right every once in a while.”

Kiera gave him her best dirty look, but didn’t comment. She had a feeling going on the pill would remove one more objection and make it that much more likely she’d give in to a temptation she was sure was unhealthy and ill-advised.

The best way to keep herself on the straight and narrow was to keep every objection in place, shored up and heavily guarded to keep temptation from getting the upper hand. So no doctor’s appointment for her, and as soon as Jackson left, she was going to toss the condom.

Kiera wished the wise and practical decisions made her feel better than they did.

Chapter 12

Three days after her disastrous date with Hunter, Kiera walked out of her doctor’s office with a prescription for the pill. She was still convinced that sleeping with Hunter would be a gigantic mistake, but it turned out it was next to impossible to put her desires back to sleep now that he’d awakened them. She dreamt of him at night and woke up with an empty yearning in her belly. She told herself she didn’t believe Jackson’s suggestion that Hunter might be “The One,” but that didn’t stop her from mooning over him like a lovesick puppy.

Hunter made a point of “running into” her at least once a day. It should have been creepy and made him feel like a stalker, only she knew why he was doing it. She never saw any sign that he was being watched, but she was sure he was. He was careful to engineer their meetings so they’d occur in public, and he was flamboyantly charming in a way she knew wasn’t really him. He even presented her with an enormous bouquet of flowers, acting his part of the charming rake. But there was a measure of hesitancy every time he approached her, like he was bracing himself for a rejection, and she found she missed his easy confidence.

None of which was a good excuse for going on the pill, but Kiera had eventually convinced herself it couldn’t hurt. She felt Hunter’s pull every time she caught sight of him, and she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t someday give in to that pull. Better to be safe than sorry. Even if knowing she was safe made it that much more likely she’d eventually be sorry.

It didn’t help that Jackson had now made getting her and Hunter together into his own personal mission. Sure, he’d interfered some in her love life before—usually trying to warn her the guy she was dating was a creep, and usually being ignored—but he’d never been quite this adamant before. It felt like he was constantly calling her to see if she’d jumped Hunter’s bones yet. It was really quite irritating—and it made sure that whenever Kiera’s mind climbed out of the gutter, it was shoved right back in again.

****

Kiera knew something was up when Jackson showed up on her doorstep on Friday night with a paper grocery bag.

“I’ve decided to learn how to cook,” he announced as he pushed past her into her apartment.

She stood blinking in the doorway as he breezed into her kitchen without waiting for any reply. Her brow furrowed as she rolled his words around in her brain and failed to divine the meaning behind them.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, following him into the kitchen, where he was unpacking his groceries.

“I should learn how to cook,” he said more slowly, like he was talking to an idiot. There was a twinkle in his eye that boded no good. “I decided one of the reasons I can’t seem to land a man is I can’t cook for shit. I know your dinner date with Hunter didn’t work out so well, but it got me thinking about how romantic it was to cook dinner for your lover.”

Kiera shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Jackson was definitely up to something, but she wasn’t sure what. It was true he’d often lamented his lack of skill in the kitchen, but he’d never seemed motivated to
do
anything about it. She’d always had the impression he liked going out to eat too much to become the do-it-yourself type.

“Shouldn’t you be learning to cook in
your
kitchen?” she asked quite reasonably.

He smirked at her as he opened a package of ground beef then started searching through her cabinets until he found a mixing bowl. “Since I never cook, I don’t have the equipment.” He dug a measuring cup out of a drawer, used it to measure out some breadcrumbs, then dumped them in the bowl with the meat. Whatever he was planning to cook, it wasn’t exactly haute cuisine.

“And you’re not planning to
buy
the equipment? You’re going to bring your boyfriends to
my
place to cook them dinner?” She peeked into the grocery bag and saw a box of spaghetti, a couple cans of tomatoes, and some veggies.

“I thought I’d find out if it was a lost cause before I made a substantial investment.” He frowned theatrically. “Besides, I didn’t want to get cat hair in the food.”

On the surface, Jackson’s explanation almost made sense. Except he was throwing together his ingredients without the benefit of a recipe, and when he started chopping garlic, he seemed perfectly at home using a knife. Of course, it didn’t take a master chef to cook spaghetti.

“You mean to tell me you’re going to branch out into the brave new world of cooking, and you’re going to start with spaghetti and meatballs?”

He gave her an innocent look as he dug his bare hands into the meat mixture and started blending everything together. “I could have tried beef Wellington, but that seemed a little ambitious for a first time out.”

“You know I’m not buying any of this. What are you really up to?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you really going to look a free, homemade meal in the mouth?”

She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest mulishly. “How good can it be if you’ve never cooked before in your life?” He was rolling meatballs like a pro, each one coming out perfectly round and exactly the same size—something Kiera had never been able to manage herself. He might not make a habit of cooking, but she’d wager he was no stranger to this particular recipe.

His smile was sly. “Trust me, it’ll be good.”

“I trust you about as far as I can throw you,” she muttered darkly.

Jackson just ignored that, washing his hands and starting to put the sauce ingredients together. There was no way he was doing this to hone his cooking skills, but for the life of her, she couldn’t guess what was behind the charade. She resisted the urge to ask more questions. She had a feeling she was going to find out what he was up to sooner than she liked anyway.

The spaghetti was on and boiling, the perfectly browned meatballs simmering in the fragrant tomato sauce, when Kiera’s doorbell rang. She jumped like a startled cat, but Jackson’s face wore another of those sly smiles. The kind that said he’d been expecting the doorbell to ring.

“Who the hell is that?” Kiera asked, but the high, almost screechy tone in her voice said she had a good inkling already.

Jackson surveyed his handiwork. “Well, I might have dropped off a note for Hunter inviting him to dinner tonight,” he said, stirring the sauce as his smile broadened. “I might even have given him the impression the note was from you and that you were going to try to erase the bad memory of last week’s dinner.”

Kiera’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “You
didn’t
!”

The doorbell rang again.

“If I killed you right now, it would be justifiable homicide.”

Jackson just smirked at her. “Are you going to answer the door?”

Kiera seriously considered sitting down and refusing to budge, but Jackson would let Hunter in anyway, and he’d probably find a way to make the situation even more awkward and uncomfortable than it already was.

Face warm with a combination of anger and embarrassment, Kiera stomped off toward the door and flung it open. She must have looked even more ferocious than she felt, for Hunter’s eyes widened and he took a hasty step backward when he saw her face.

Kiera’s face flamed even hotter. It wasn’t Hunter’s fault that Jackson had taken it upon himself to play matchmaker. She shouldn’t take her anger out on him.

“Come on in,” she said, baring her teeth in what she hoped resembled a smile. “You remember Jackson, don’t you?” She waved her hand at the kitchen as Hunter crossed her threshold. “My former best friend?”

Jackson waved a brief greeting, then went back to tending his gourmet meal. He was looking mighty proud of himself. Hunter looked back and forth between the two of them curiously, and Kiera tried to think of a tactful way to tell him she hadn’t actually invited him to dinner. Jackson, unfortunately, thought tact was overrated.

“I’m afraid I fibbed a bit,” he called to Hunter. “I’m the one who invited you tonight, not Kiera.” He came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a paper towel. He turned his attention to Kiera, though not without giving Hunter a none-too-subtle visual once-over. “The sauce is ready, and the spaghetti will be done in three more minutes. I think you can take it from here.”

“I am going to skin you alive next time I see you,” she growled at him, but he was undaunted.

“Dessert’s in the fridge, and I see Hunter thoughtfully provided the wine.”

Hunter opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it. He still had a vaguely bemused look on his face, which Kiera decided was a good thing. It was probably safer for Jackson if he was out of sight by the time Hunter understood exactly what he’d done. She’d never seen Hunter really angry before, but she was sure it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Jackson seemed to come to the same conclusion. He didn’t stick around to gloat, making a hasty exit instead. And leaving Kiera and Hunter alone in her apartment.

“Hmm,” Hunter said, staring at the door through which Jackson had left. “I feel strangely like I’ve been run over by a bulldozer.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kiera said. She hated to think just what shade of red her face was right now. “I had no idea he was doing this. He just showed up at my doorstep and took over the place. And I didn’t know you were coming until you rang the bell.”

To her immense relief, Hunter looked more amused than angry. “I take it this is his idea of matchmaking?”

“Apparently so.”

The amusement slowly faded from Hunter’s face. “If he knew the truth about me, he’d be singing a very different tune.” Kiera hated the self-loathing she heard in his voice.

“Um, actually, he
does
know the truth. I’m not sure he believes it, but he knows it.”

Hunter shook his head in amazement. “He knows about me, and yet he still plays matchmaker? He’s a sorry excuse for a friend.”

“He’s the best friend I’ve ever had,” Kiera said, quick to rush in and defend him even though she wanted to kill him at the moment. “It’s just that he’s an incurable romantic. I think he thinks that I can save you from the Unseelie Court and you can save me from a life of loneliness, or something like that.”

Hunter’s smile was bitter. “It makes a lovely fantasy, but fantasy is all it is.”

“I know,” she said softly, her throat tightening on the words. If she were sensible, she’d ask Hunter to leave now. Having him in her home was too dangerous to her mental health. But she supposed if his mother’s spies were watching him, he’d be much better off if she let him stay. The longer the two of them could maintain the illusion that he was still pursuing his mission, the more time he had before facing whatever dire punishment the Queen was going to dish out.

“Should I leave?” Hunter asked as if reading her thoughts.

“I’d hate to waste a home-cooked meal,” she said, meeting his eyes and no doubt conveying a much less flippant message.

Hunter reached out briefly and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, that simple, light touch making her shiver with pleasure.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Then he shook off some of the solemnity and took a step back. “I’ll open the wine, if you’ll take care of the food.”

It seemed like a fair enough division of labor. Kiera hated the reality that she was allowing Jackson to manipulate the two of them like this, but if she wasn’t willing to kick Hunter out, then she’d just have to deal with it.