Boiling Point (9 page)

“Unless you sweet talk the newlyweds next door, but don’t worry,” she added with a mocking, conciliatory pat on his hand. “At least as a fire elemental, you won’t be cold.”

“Yeah, I will be,” he murmured. “I’m never warm enough until I’m inside you.”

Fauna’s breath caught.

“After that kind of heat, everything else is like autumn.”

“You’re not getting into my bed,” she croaked.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“On the area rug,” she replied as firmly as she could. Thank God she was sitting down. Her knees were too rubbery to support her.

Fauna licked her lips. His eyes flamed red as he watched. “We should tell Sage about all of this.”

“I don’t think he needs to know that I’m sleeping on the floor when I’d rather be boning his sister.”

Her body tingled magically. Fauna slipped from view. “I meant the clone wars.”

“Bad movie.”

Despite herself, she laughed. “You
know
what I mean.”

“I have to make a report to the council. They will send a representative to him with a lot more information than I can give him this far away. He’ll be told everything we can reasonably share without risking our safety. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, warmly. “You’re welcome.”

“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked, hoping he’d finished telling her all the sordid details. She’d be checking her work and rechecking now that she knew the whole fate of the world hinged on her programming skills.
Geez, no pressure there
.

“Yeah, one more thing.”

I knew it. The mole people are about to riot for voting privileges
.

“I knew before I met you, that you’d be my Achilles’ Heel. I watched you work and tried to learn as much about you as I could before coming to work at Harper Security. I expected attraction. I had no way of predicting how you’d make me feel. How could I? You’re half human and half faery, a combination of two realms that don’t exactly play well with the elementals. I don’t know what to call it, but I do know that the idea of not seeing you anymore doesn’t even make sense. I don’t know what magic you cast on me, but I don’t want you to remove it despite the fact that it hurts like hell to know that I can’t touch you again.”

Her chest ached. She
wanted
him to touch her, and that was exactly the problem. For whatever reason, she was attracted to exactly the wrong kind of guys. A being that manipulated heat and fire, was anything
but
human, qualified as wrong.

“I think this is what humans call love. It’s terrible, so make it go away before you tell me I can’t be near you anymore.”

Fauna turned her invisible head to blink back the tears pooling in her eyes. Her hands shook. She pushed away from her stool and left the room. She needed air. She needed to think. Cooper clouded her judgment on every level. Above all else, she had a job to do. A job that, it seemed, was more important than she imagined and it needed her full attention.

She could deal with her relationship to Cooper once the job was all over. Now she needed to clear her mind and put a steel lid on the emotions he elicited in her.

Just how, exactly, do I do that
?

Chapter Six

Fatigue gripped Cooper as he and Fauna climbed the stairs. After a long night working in the lab, and a quick breakfast, he wanted nothing more than to curl up with Fauna in his arms and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing.

Instead, he stared forlornly at the braided rag rug, just inside the door of their room. Each thick strand of the tightly woven, multicolored fabric mocked him. He winced in anticipation of waking with matching knots of muscle on his back.

Gauging Fauna’s expression to see if she’d actually meant him to sleep on the rug, or if it had been an empty threat, didn’t give him any reassurances. Her eyes narrowed, as though she expected him to ask. If there’s one thing he’d learned about her, you didn’t push Fauna. She might change her mind on her own, but if he pressured her, she’d hold fast. As stubborn as scales on a wet sylph.

“I’m sure if you ask super nicely, Mrs. Linthrop will let you curl up in the fireplace downstairs,” Fauna offered sweetly.

Her lips were tight and her eyes snapped. She didn’t look like she was going to back down.

“Thanks, but technically, I’m a salamander, not a ball of flame.”

She blinked widely, too innocently. “A warm rock, then. That can be arranged too.”

“Geez woman, you cut to the quick.”

He thought he saw a moment of hesitation then suddenly it was gone and her chin lifted. “I’m going to take a shower. Then I’m crawling into my bed,
alone
.”

“Thanks for the anticipatory narrative, but you already made your point. I’m not sleeping with you. I get it. I fucked up, and now I’m going to pay by sleeping at your feet like a dog.”

There was that flicker of hesitation again. It was nice to know she didn’t get off on being mean, he thought.

“Not like a dog,” she said, looking uncomfortable.

“Really? Me, curled up on a rag rug beside your bed all night?” Slyly, he added, “Naked as a jaybird? Yeah, sounds pretty canine to me.”

“Naked?” she choked.

“Have you ever known me to sleep with my clothes
on
?”

Fauna blushed to her roots. Adorable, he decided.

“I thought you did that because…”

“Because?” he pressed, knowing where she was headed.

“Because we…” Fauna stalled, looking more flustered than ever.

“Because we, what?” he pushed.

“You know.”

“I do?”

Fauna huffed in exasperation. “Because we slept together.” Words tumbled from her lips triple-speed, jumbling into a subdued mumble.

Cooper leaned in. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Because. We. Slept. Together,” she said distinctly.

Cooper drummed his fingers on his folded arm. “Hm. I guess we
have
been sleeping together every single night since we got here. Then I guess you do, in fact, know that I sleep in the raw. But since we’ve been having
sex
every one of those nights, you may not realize that I always sleep naked.”

He stressed the word “sex”, raising his voice as he did to drive the point home with as much effect as possible. He saw her eyes shoot over his shoulder.

Oh, did I leave the door open? Shame on me
.

Fauna dodged by him, catching it with her fingers and shoving it closed. Cooper turned, closing off her escape. She’d either have to back up against that door, or ask him to move. Knowing Fauna, she wouldn’t reduce herself to asking him for anything. She’d consider herself fully capable of handling her own space and definitely wouldn’t want to risk continuing their conversation by a request he may not chose to honor.

He felt a little wicked for forcing her hand.

“I’m nuts about you, Fauna. If you want me to sleep on the floor, I’ll sleep on the floor. Hell, I’ll even curl up in the fireplace like you suggested. Do you know why?”

Fauna nervously folded her arms, mirroring his stance unconsciously. “Because you’re trying to guilt me,” she suggested.

“There might be some of that,” he agreed with a soft smile. “I’d do it, because I know I’m wrong, and if that’s what you want as reparation, I’m happy to oblige.”

Her gaze fell. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Being agreeable doesn’t make what you did, better.” She lifted her beautiful green eyes to his. They were filled with uncertainty, but it was the hurt in them that pricked his conscience like no punishment could.

“I know.”

He reached for her, not able to stand the distance between them when they’d been so close over the past weeks. Fauna tightened her hold on herself, flinched away. There was no playfulness in her body language. Cooper resisted the urge to follow her, press her up against the wall, and kiss her until everything was right again.

Keeping his secret from her had been a more serious offense than he’d thought. Of course he hadn’t actually thought about how she’d take it when the truth came out. That hadn’t been the goal. The elementals had sent him on a mission. His attraction to Fauna had been a pleasant bonus.

He’d been thinking about saving his hide. He’d been thinking about the job. He’d been thinking about how much he liked being with Fauna, and hoping that if she felt the same way, she’d overlook the rest.

He’d been wrong. So wrong.

His first mistake had been in thinking he and Fauna could have a fling while he was on assignment. The second was underestimating her aversion to magical beings. A third mistake on that order wouldn’t be acceptable. He couldn’t mess up how he handled their relationship from here. Doing so would mean losing Fauna.

He might have already.

Fauna made her way to the bathroom with her robe and clothes. As a fire elemental, there shouldn’t be a point in his existence where he felt chilled, but the anguished silence rolling off her pierced him straight to the heart. He wished he understood her aversion better. Hell, he wished he hadn’t assumed he could break through her emotional wall without coming clean.

On the other hand, he hadn’t been at liberty to disclose his identity. He still wasn’t, but telling her had been important to more than the mission. It had become important to see if they could continue their relationship once the final measures for security were installed.

The water turned on, and steam filled the tiny closet-sized bathroom. It spilled moisture into the bedroom. There was nothing but steam between Fauna’s naked body and where he stood, frozen in place. A day ago, he’d have stripped off his clothing and joined her. They hadn’t had shower sex yet. Just thinking of the soap bubbles slicking her body had him hard and ready. The chances that she’d let him in were ridiculously low.

Cooper ran a hand through his hair. How was it possible to want someone so badly? How did people move on from recklessly destroying their relationships with lies before realizing they’d fucked up?

The shower turned off, and he saw her swat her arm out to collect her clothes where she could change around the corner from where he stood.

“I’ve seen you naked. You don’t need to hide,” he reminded her, hoping the light banter would ease the nearly palpable tension.

Fauna didn’t answer.

He caught the sounds of fabric moving, then the soft barefoot pats of her feet moving from shower to wood floor. When she emerged, hair slicked back and wet, she met his gaze with a sad look of her own.

It felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. He wanted to comfort her, knew she wouldn’t let him.

“Can we at least talk about it?” he asked.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“There’s a lot to say,” he contradicted

“No, there isn’t. This was a stress-relieving arrangement we had. While we didn’t owe each other anything, lying was the wrong card to play. Now I know, and I no longer want to donate my body to the cause.” She shrugged, dropping her eyes and fiddling with her robe tie. “It means nothing. We just move on from here.”