What a Demon Wants (7 page)

He stretched again. Ellina must be sore too, hunched over her papers. His stomach rumbled. And she had to be hungry as well.

Dinner. That’s something he could do to help her. Cooking would help settle his thoughts and would allow him to work through all the information he’d just found.

He rose and headed down the now dim hallway toward the kitchen. Ellina had turned on a lamp in her office, and muted light filtered out into the hallway from her doorway.

He moved silently, stopping outside the door to check on her. She sat at her desk, her attention centered on piles of papers. She scanned one, then debated between the multiple stacks, a frown creasing her brow as she considered her next move.

She chose one of the piles and placed the page on top. She looked back to the next page in front of her, her eyes moving from left to right over the words. Her brow was furrowed, and strain pulled at the corners of her mouth. Yet her obvious focus and stress didn’t lessen her loveliness.

Jude watched her a moment longer, noticing that she’d pulled her hair back into a messy bun. Her skin glowed buttery gold in the lamplight. She worried her bottom lip as she concentrated on her reading.

Jude’s body reacted instantly to the sight. White teeth biting into soft, pink flesh. He stepped slowly away from the doorway as if carefully backing away from something that could lunge at him. Something that could attack.

Attack. That wasn’t the threat Ellina presented, but she was a threat.

No. His reaction to her was the threat, but he could control his reactions. Yes, she was a beautiful woman. Yes, he was attracted to her. Any male would be. But he didn’t have to respond to that attraction.

Bad choice.

Ellina had unwittingly made a comment that applied to so many things at the moment.

He turned away from the door, away from the light, as if even seeing the warm glow could lure him back like a helpless insect drawn to a hot flame.

Stupid, he told himself. He could control himself. Control had been key to his existence, and he was good at it.

Still he hastened his pace, putting space between them. He paused just outside the darkened kitchen, letting the shadows encompass him as if the darkness could mask his response.

Then he pulled in a deep breath.

Without looking back toward the office, he forced his attention onto what drew him away from his computer. Food. Food always captured his attention easily enough. He flipped on the light inside the doorway of Ellina’s miniature kitchen and began perusing her cupboards for dinner staples.

After just a few moments rooting, Jude found dried red beans and rice, and in her mini fridge, he also found chicken breasts. He could make a good meal out of this, and it would allow him to focus on something other than Ellina looking frazzled and lovely.

Food was always a good distraction. Even for other types of hunger.

Was there any hope of getting these notes back into order? Ellina thought, tossing down yet another bit of her research. What a mess.

She hadn’t numbered some of the pages. Others were numbered, but with the same numbers as other spells and incantations.

Note to self, number consecutively. Or better yet, keep things in a binder. Had she learned nothing from the breakins? This was her third time sorting these things out.

And frankly, she was damned tired of it.

With a sigh, she picked up the page in front of her. Page 2—and only one of six others she had piled in front of her. What spells did this one go with? Which pages 1 and 3

did it go between? She didn’t know—some of this research she’d done months ago and she just couldn’t recall the sequence of the spells.

It was frustrating, exhausting, and making her tense. Having a sister-in-law in labor, brothers angry at her, undoubtedly an impending visit from her father ahead of her, and a stranger posing as her boyfriend in her house wasn’t helping her tension.

Ellina pushed her chair away from her desk and stretched, reaching her arms over her head and up toward the ceiling, telling herself to just focus on the task at hand.

A noise, metal against metal, paused her stretch. She listened again, now hearing a faint movement in another part of the cottage.

Then she realized a smell filled the room. An appetizing scent that made her stomach growl in a loud appeal. She dropped a hand to her complaining belly and frowned toward the door.

What was the smell? It was wonderful.

She stood, following the scent out of her office toward the kitchen.

Food, she realized. The smell of cooking food, emanating from her kitchen. Now that was a novel idea.

When Ellina reached her kitchen, she was surprised again. Jude stood at the counter, his large frame taking up most of the width of the galley-style room. His back was to her, and she could see the subtle roll of his muscles under his T-shirt as he stirred something.

Leaning on the door frame, she didn’t speak, just watched him work. He finished mixing whatever was on the stove, then turned to the counter, quickly and precisely chopping what looked like garlic.

Garlic? Where did he get that? Did she even have garlic? Without seeming aware of her watching, he returned to the stove, adding the possible garlic to something sizzling in a pan.

“It’s almost ready,” he said, and for a moment she wasn’t even sure he was talking to her. But when she didn’t respond, he glanced at her over his shoulder.

“I hope you like Cajun.”

Ellina nodded, still bemused by the sight of this huge guy, a paid bodyguard, doing something as domestic as cooking.

“I love it,” she said.

He turned back to the sizzling pan. Ellina watched him a moment longer, then snapped out of her amazement to ask, “Can I help? I should warn you, I’m a disaster in the kitchen, but I could probably chop or stir something.”

He immediately shook his head. “I’m fine here. I opened some wine.”

He gestured to the counter. A bottle of Riesling sat on the counter with two wineglasses already waiting.

“Pour yourself a glass and go relax. I’ve got things under control here.”

Something about the way he said the last bit, tightly, as if he had his teeth gritted together, caught her attention, but when he gestured again to the wine, she couldn’t see anything in his expression to back that impression. He looked utterly composed.

She glanced at the wine. “That does sound good.”

She poured herself a glass, then raised the other one toward him. “Want some?”

Jude nodded, his eyes staying on her for just a moment before he turned back to his cooking. This time, Ellina did see a change in his expression. A sort of longing.

And she wasn’t sure it was for the wine.

She poured him a glass, then crossed the tiny space to place it on the counter next to him.

“Here you go.”

He reached for the glass, their fingers touching for just a fraction of a second, a mere brush of skin, barely there. But totally there.

So totally there. She could feel the tiny contact throughout her body. She could feel the budding of arousal simmering up in her belly, spreading. But before she could pull away, afraid of her body’s reaction, he snatched his hand away, sloshing wine on himself in the process. He shifted away from her as much as the confining quarters would allow.

He didn’t like her touch.

She’d sensed that before, but now it was almost ridiculously apparent.

She stepped back too, forcing a smile. “Thanks for all this.” She waved a hand at the stove and the wineglass clenched in her other hand.

He nodded, this time not quite meeting her eyes.

She nodded too as she exited the stifling small kitchen.

As she walked almost aimlessly toward the living room, she wondered what it was about her touch that bothered him so. And why it upset her so much that he was bothered.

She should feel relief. It wasn’t like touching was an option for her. Not really.

Chapter 7

Jude took a deep breath as soon as Ellina left the kitchen. Then he took a gulp of his wine, nearly emptying his glass.

How could her touch affect him so? And why couldn’t the reaction be like the one he had to every other paranormal creature? Wow, he never thought he’d wish for that. Why was it different? Why did he want more of it? Even now he craved her fingers moving against his skin.

He polished off the rest of his wine, then moved to refill the glass. The wine wouldn’t impact his senses, at least not his reaction time to intruders or other threats, but he prayed it would calm him a little. His body tightened with hypersensitivity. His skin sizzled with awareness, ready to explode.

He downed that glass, then pulled in another deep breath.

Control. Control.

He turned his attention back to his cooking. The chicken was nearly done. And the rice and beans simmered nicely. He breathed in again. The wine did seem to be helping. He turned to the rather peaked-looking lettuce he’d found in the fridge, wondering if he could salvage enough for a salad.

See, he could focus, he told himself as he put the lettuce in a bowl and filled it with cold water. He then moved back to the stove to turn the chicken one last time before lowering the heat.

“Sorry.”

At the sound of the voice directly behind him, Jude spun, jutting the spatula out in front of him like a weapon.

Ellina jumped back, gaping first at him, then the spatula, then back to him.

He opened his mouth to apologize for his jumpy response, but before he could say a word, she started to giggle. Her laughter filled the room like a measure of joyous music.

She made a small noise, trying to suppress her laugh, then managed, “Sorry. I just wanted to steal a little more wine. I wasn’t prepared for your kitchen utensil kung fu.”

Another giggle sneaked past her lips.

He glanced at the spatula still held out in front of him, then placed it on the counter.

“You…” He frowned. “You caught me off guard.”

She shot him a quick smile as she filled her glass, and he could see she was still struggling to keep her amusement in check. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

His frown deepened.

She tried to sober even more and added, “Please forgive the laughter. I have this terrible habit of finding the most inappropriate things funny. It’s always been a problem.”

When he didn’t respond, she clearly mistook his silence for annoyance, because she quickly finished filling her glass and excused herself again.

Jude still didn’t speak as she disappeared out of the room, looking decidedly uncomfortable, probably with both their reactions. But he couldn’t stop her, couldn’t reassure her that his silence wasn’t annoyance, but rather shock.

No one could sneak up on him like that. No one. Not even stronger and older paranormals. So how the hell could one little half demon? And she’d actually startled him.

Unheard of.

What was going on? He hadn’t even been in this woman’s presence twenty-four hours and she’d managed to unnerve him more than anyone in years, decades…hell, centuries.

He glanced at the nearly empty bottle of wine. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it had more effect than he realized. Not that two glasses of any alcohol should affect him so. It never had before. And the wine certainly wasn’t the cause of the sensations that radiated through his body when they touched.

He grimaced, frustrated that his body—the one thing he’d always been able to trust—

seemed to be betraying him.

Then something reached him…a scent.

He turned, realizing the smell was the chicken. Burning.

“Shit,” he muttered, yanking the frying pan off the lit burner.

Well, his body hadn’t failed him on this minor disaster, but then again, he didn’t need to keep Ellina safe from scorched poultry, now did he?

Ellina winced as she heard Jude’s muttered curse and the clatter of pans. She shouldn’t have laughed, but she really did have a hard time controlling her inappropriate giggles. And the way he’d whipped around and waved that spatula had startled her, then struck her as funny.

She giggled again at the memory. He’d looked as surprised as she was. She certainly seemed to make the man uncomfortable.

But as soon as that thought reappeared in her mind, her amusement was gone. She took a sip of her wine and collapsed into one of her living room chairs Why was she even worrying about his unease with her? Wasn’t that simpler for both of them? He didn’t appear to like her much, and she got the sneaking suspicion she could like him too much. Well, be too attracted. She had no idea if she’d actually like anything about him aside for his looks, which she really did like.

She closed her eyes for a moment, telling herself she had to let her attraction go. Get a grip on her much-neglected libido.

And really, leave it to her to be attracted to someone who was clearly not attracted to her. Revolted would be a better word, really.

Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and took another sip of her wine. Over the rim of her glass, her gaze landed on all the items set up on her coffee table. His stuff.

A new looking laptop computer was open with a notebook, also open, beside it. A duffel bag sat on the floor beside the sofa.

Somehow seeing those items made her decision to just get over her attraction seem all the more daunting. Why should a canvas bag and a computer cause something akin to panic to swell up in her chest?

Because he was staying. Here—with her. And possibly for a while. Could she get really get a handle on her attraction with him living here?

Posing as her boyfriend of all things.

Ellina dropped her head onto the back of the chair. How was she going to do this?

Focus on other things.

She opened her eyes, her gaze landing back on his stuff, specifically the open notebook. She straightened up, leaning forward, and although she could see small writing in blue ink, she couldn’t make out any specific words.

Should she sneak a peek? His notes—probably related to her—were a distraction from him, right?

No. She wasn’t comfortable with looking at his personal things—not without asking him first.

But she didn’t lean back in her chair; instead she scooted a little closer to the coffee table. Maybe just a little look. After all, he had gone through her closet. Her whole house, she suspected. And without a doubt, these notes were about her case. Was that what she was? A case?

She glanced toward the door leading down the hallway…toward the kitchen.

She could hear him still in there, getting down plates from the cupboards. The clatter of utensils being taken out of the silverware drawer. Her attention returned to his notes.

Really, shouldn’t she know what he knew about her? Maybe who he considered as a threat to her?

A threat to her.

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. She was a case all right. A head case.

Was she actually starting to buy into Maksim’s suspicions that someone really wanted to hurt her?

“Here you go.”

This time it was Ellina’s turn to jump. Clapping a hand to her chest, she shifted to find Jude beside her chair, a plate in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other.

She could tell by the slight rise of one of his eyebrows that he’d noticed the direction of her attention. His own eyes flicked to the coffee table and his notes, but he didn’t reveal whether he was bothered by her interest in his stuff.

She dropped her hand and tried to look calm. Her voice was even steady as she said,

“Wow, this looks amazing.”

He didn’t speak as she accepted the plate, so she couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with her obvious interest in his work. He moved to the end table and refilled her wineglass, still saying nothing.

Although it shouldn’t have, his lack of response unnerved her, and before she even realized what she planned to say, she blurted out, “I wasn’t going to look at your stuff without asking you. I mean, I did consider it, but I wouldn’t have.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

Man, she hadn’t known him long, but she already knew she hated that about him.

There. There, that was one part of him, outside of the physical, that she could quite decisively say she didn’t like—since she had considered the fact that she likely wouldn’t care for him, if she really knew him.

And his inscrutability was definitely something that took away from his overall attractiveness. Well, a little. Actually, she thought grudgingly, in a weird way it sort of added to his dark good looks too, which was odd, because she’d never considered herself a woman who liked the aloof, brooding type.

Ellina stopped her mental debate when she realized he was leaving the room.

“Are you coming right back?”

She winced at the needy tone of her question. Where had that come from? Why had she even asked?

Jude paused, turning slowly to look at her.

“Why? Are you afraid you won’t be able to resist?”

She blinked. Huh? Was he somehow reading her thoughts? Could he actually read minds? She knew some paranormal beings could. Great, had he been tuning into her private thoughts all day like some listener tuned into a gossipy talk show?

“Well—I—I mean,” she sputtered, her previously “tell-all” mind going blank.

“Feel free to look.”

She blinked again. What? But as if of their own free will, her eyes did roam down his tall, strong body. She did like looking at him, but how did that tie into what she’d been thinking?

Maybe it was his way of saying that was all she was going to be able to do with him.

Just look.

“After all, all of it is about you. So you have the right to look away.”

She frowned. Okay, she was lost. It was about her?

Then he actually smiled. The curve of his lips and that deep dimple transformed him from handsome to stunning.

“Seriously, look away.”

Ellina blinked, then Jude gestured toward the coffee table with a jerk of his head.

“I think it would be good if you looked all the information over.”

Oh. Right. He was talking about his notes. She could actually feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. Of course he was talking about that.

She nodded, the bob of her head a little too rapid, too eager. “Thanks. Maybe I will.”

Jude’s smile faded and his eyebrows drew together as if he was confused by her reaction, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he headed back to the kitchen.

Ellina fell against the cushions of her chair. What a fool. How had her mind gone somewhere so completely wrong?

Get a grip, girl.

Still embarrassed, she remembered the plate she held. It looked and smelled delicious, and she needed a distraction from her own ludicrous train of thought. To actually think he’d been referring to himself.

A small laugh escaped her. Wow, it’s moments like this when she knew she was meant to be a writer. Talk about an overactive imagination. She glanced at the notes, debating them as a distraction, but somehow looking at Jude’s notes seemed a little too personal at the moment.

And, frankly, the food was already grabbing her attention. The presentation was that of a five-star restaurant. Not at all what she’d have expected from a bodyguard. She breathed in appreciatively. Scooping up a bit on the end of her fork, she tested it.

Scrumptious.

As she chewed, her eyes closed in pleasure. Wonderful. The spices, the way the rice and beans were cooked. Not too mushy, soft yet firm. Perfection. In fact it was better than most restaurant versions of the famous Southern dish.

She took another bite and another.

“Looks like you are enjoying it.”

Ellina paused, the fork halfway to her lips. She looked down at her plate. It was well over half empty.

Sheepishly, she smiled. “It’s so delicious, once I started, I couldn’t stop. You are an excellent cook. I never would have guessed.”

She took another bite, this time chewing slower, savoring the spicy favor. She was so lost in her enjoyment, she didn’t immediately realize that Jude still stood in the center of the room, holding his heaping plate of food in one hand and a large glass of milk in the other.

She set down her fork on the plate. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t you guess I would be a good cook?”

Her frown deepened. That seemed like an odd question. She certainly hadn’t meant it as a slight. Yet he looked almost…wounded?

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I guess that was a presumptuous thing to say. I mean, I don’t even know you.”

He shrugged as if the answer didn’t really matter.

Of course, if the answer didn’t matter, then why ask the question?

But she didn’t question him further, because he settled into the chair on the other side of the living room and began eating with a resolution that excluded any interest in her.

They both ate in silence for several minutes until Ellina found the dead air between them stifling.

“So are you from this area?”

Jude looked up, his expression almost startled, as if he’d forgotten she was there. So much for him feeling the uncomfortable silence between them.

“No. Not originally. I’ve lived all over.”

She nodded. “That must be interesting.”

He nodded, not offering any more than that. That didn’t dissuade her.

“I know you didn’t seem too interested in answering this question when my brothers asked, but what are you? I mean, what kind of paranormal are you?”

He glanced at her, then took another bite of his chicken, chewing slowly, using his fork to toy with the rice and beans.

Just when she was sure he wasn’t going to answer, he swallowed and said quietly,

“I’m a mutt.”

“A mutt?”

“I’m not just one thing.”

Ellina considered that.

“Explain.”

He looked dreadfully close to rolling his eyes. But he caught himself.

She smiled. Was it wrong to find his exasperation amusing?

He didn’t speak again for a moment, then said in a rushed, almost uncomfortable way, “I’m half vampire/half werewolf.”