Kiss of Fire (27 page)

“I don't think you know, either.” She held his gaze with certainty in her own. “Erik could have killed you in Béziers, if that had been his plan. He could have killed you when he killed Ambrose, if that had been his plan. Did you confront him when Ambrose died?”

“No. I hid while he searched for me. Then I ran. I was sure he meant to kill me, too.”

“But he didn't throw a coin at you in challenge,” Niall observed. Quinn had to agree.

Rafferty shook his head. “He would have been able to sniff you out at such close proximity. Erik is very perceptive, even for a
Pyr
.”

Quinn hadn't thought of that before.

Sara tapped his arm with a fingertip. “You have to at least consider that his intentions are good.”

“Ambrose taught you half of the truth,” Rafferty contributed. “He left out the important bits.”

“How long did you travel with him?” Niall asked.

“Two years, at most. He was generous and taught me a lot.”

“But not enough,” Rafferty concluded.

“But in two years, he could have killed the Smith a number of times, as well,” Niall argued.

“I wonder whether he didn't think you were a worthy opponent,” Sara said. “Maybe he was teaching you enough, maybe playing with you a bit, to have a more satisfactory fight in the end.”

“But Erik killed him instead,” Quinn mused. “It would make a certain sense for Ambrose to teach me part of the truth.”

“How so?” Rafferty asked.

“Ambrose made his living by gambling, in those days. He would bet any man on the result of anything, and he always won.”

“Because of his keen
Pyr
senses,” Rafferty said with disgust. “It's cheating.”

“It's comparatively easy to read humans by their reactions,” Niall told Sara and she nodded understanding. Quinn saw that she wasn't surprised.

“But he would walk away from a wager he thought was too easy to win,” Quinn said. “He thought it was beneath his dignity to bet on something obvious, or to win a wager with a man who wouldn't regret the loss. He liked to take someone's last coin. He always said he liked a win with impact.”

“So, he
was
fattening you up for the kill,” Rafferty concluded. “Nice.”

Sara leaned against Quinn, the curve of her breast nestling against his arm. “I think it's time you had the whole story from Erik.” She smiled, as if sensing his resistance. “It's the only way anyone can make a good decision.”

Quinn wasn't at all convinced of that, but he didn't want to argue with Sara. Not now.

He wanted something else.

The golden hue of her eyes was the invitation he wanted to answer. He smiled down at her and felt sparks fly between them.

The dark clouds had continued to roll closer as they talked and now black clouds boiled directly overhead. The next flash of lightning struck close enough to make them all jump at the sound of its strike.

“We're going to get wet,” Rafferty said.

“It's not that far to my house,” Sara said, but Niall shook his head.

“We have to report back to Erik. He needs to know about the Wyvern.”

Quinn cleared his throat, knowing it was possible that he had missed some detail. He was skeptical, but he knew what Sara wanted him to do. “Will you ask Erik to come to me?” he asked Rafferty and felt Sara's pleasure. “I need to remain with Sara tonight, but I want to hear his version of events.”

“Fair enough, Smith,” the older
Pyr
said, his smile indicating his approval. The storm grumbled overhead as the leaves on the trees were tossed and turned. The other two
Pyr
turned to stride downtown, while Quinn and Sara ran hand in hand for Magda's house.

To Quinn's relief, the smoke he had breathed around it was intact.

Their haven was safe.

Sara stood in her shower, eyes closed as the cool water washed over her. She felt a thousand times better as she scrubbed away the muck of that filthy cabin. It wasn't all bad that Quinn was sitting in her living room breathing smoke to protect her.

She only wished they'd managed to bring the Wyvern. Quinn couldn't have carried both of them, though, and in hindsight, she could see his point in getting the two of them to safety first. He, of course, saw his primary (and maybe even his sole) responsibility to be Sara, and there was something more than a little bit seductive about that.

In fact, there was a lot that was seductive about Quinn. Sara thought of the way he looked so intently at her. He put everything on the line to ensure her safety, without a second thought. It was true that he didn't talk about love and marriage, but hadn't she learned enough from Tom about empty promises?

Quinn's
Pyr
nature made planning for the long term somewhat tenuous, after all. Sara could see that he was being drawn back into the world of the
Pyr
and that his days of quiet isolation were likely coming to an end.

She thought the
Pyr
would do better with Quinn in their ranks, but maybe she had a biased opinion.

She got out of the shower and tried to dry herself off. The humidity had increased to the point that the towel didn't even seem to be absorbent anymore. The air could have been cut with a knife.

Thunder rumbled overhead and Sara remembered her mother's admonitions not to be in the bathroom during a thunderstorm. She combed out her wet hair and knotted it up. She reached for the clean shorts and T-shirt she'd brought into the bathroom, then changed her mind.

She stood and listened to Quinn breathing slowly. The sound made her feel safe and protected. It also aroused her. She was very aware that she wasn't alone in her little apartment.

In fact, her apartment seemed a lot smaller when Quinn was in it.

It was a good feeling. She thought about how Quinn made her feel, about his integrity and his determination, and wondered why she was resisting temptation so hard. Maybe it would be good for her to be seduced.

Maybe she was rationalizing what she wanted to do.

Maybe she didn't care.

No, there was no maybe about it: she was rationalizing and she
didn't
care. She wanted Quinn. He wanted her. It was simple. In the blink of an eye, Sara's decision was made.

She wrapped a fresh towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom. Quinn hadn't moved from the chair he had chosen, and still sat with his arms folded across his chest. Once again, he seemed to glimmer around the edges and his eyes glowed like brilliant sapphires. He surveyed her with appreciation, then smiled that slow smile.

“I didn't want to interrupt you,” she said. A bead of sweat trailed down her back. Sara remembered Quinn caressing the mermaid door knocker with one strong finger. She could still see him sliding the weight of that finger down the length of the mermaid, and remembered him touching her with the same deliberate, attentive caress.

Her mouth went dry.

“All done,” he murmured and got to his feet. Lightning flashed outside the window and a crack close by made Sara jump. The lights went out a second later. The fans in the windows slowly stopped spinning and the streetlights winked into darkness.

She could see Quinn's silhouette in front of her, and thought she could still see the gleam of his eyes. She remembered the sight of him without his shirt, the water from the shower beaded in his dark hair.

He was waiting for her move and Sara knew it. The air between them crackled with desire and she knew that he wanted her. Quinn would make love slowly and thoroughly. It could take all night.

It would be a night to remember forever.

“That white towel almost glows, princess,” he said quietly. “Are you trying to tempt me?”

“I'm no temptress,” Sara said with a laugh.

Quinn didn't laugh. He came toward her, the firestorm making the air crackle with heat between them. “Wrong.” Quinn spoke with a conviction that surprised her. “You look like my mermaid, her hair all wild and her eyes filled with promises.”

He reached and took the clip out of her hair as Sara held her breath. Sara shook her head when he put the clip aside, letting her wet hair fall over her shoulders.

“Fresh from the sea,” he whispered. He bent and brushed his lips across her cheek, his quick caress leaving Sara breathless. His thumb moved against her skin and she was tempted to drop the towel.

“Promises I mean to keep or not?”

Quinn smiled slowly and his fingers slipped around to her nape. “You tell me. It's tough to tell what a seductress has in mind.”

“I'm not a seductress. I'm an acc—”

Quinn placed his other thumb over her lips, silencing her. Sara liked the weight of his thumb against her skin and rubbed her lips against his hand. “Whatever you call yourself, Sara Keegan, you're welcome to seduce me.” His eyes gleamed in the darkness, lit by a blue heat that made Sara's mouth go dry.

“I thought you were seducing me,” she whispered.

Quinn smiled and Sara thought that her yearning would take her to her knees. “Maybe it's destiny doing the seducing.” Sara stared up at him, snared by the heat of the firestorm, and watched as he bent his head.

Quinn captured Sara's lips beneath his own, and sparks danced along her veins. She rose to her toes to kiss him back, sliding her arms around his neck.

The towel fell to the floor.

Quinn kissed Sara deeply, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he were memorizing the shape of her lips. Sara felt his strong fingers in her hair as he cupped the back of her neck. She knew the moment he realized that the towel was gone. He paused in his kiss and drew back ever so slightly, just so she could see the vivid blue of his eyes.

And his smile. His left hand swept down her back, the side of his thumb launching a line of sizzling flames beneath her skin. Sara shuddered and gasped, and whispered his name.

This time she reached for his kiss and he was quick to claim what she offered. His kiss was hotter than it had been, potent enough to make Sara dizzy. She closed her eyes and hung on. Quinn lifted her against him and she rubbed her bare breasts against the cotton of his T-shirt. His other hand fell to the back of her waist, drawing her more tightly against him, and she thought he made a low growl of desire. She felt his erection against her belly, the denim of his jeans stretched taut.

“You have too many clothes on,” she complained. He stepped back, peeled off his T-shirt, and cast it aside. He undressed with quick efficiency, the same way he did everything else. He was direct and honest and straightforward. What Sara saw was what she would get.

What she saw stole her breath away. He watched her, his gaze simmering, as he cast away his underwear, then stood nude and proud before her. This time, she had a good look and she knew her eyes widened at the size of him.

“Don't worry, princess,” he murmured as he caught her fingers in his. His admiration made her feel sexy, special, treasured. The heat between their palms made her give some credence to the idea of destiny. Either way, being with Quinn was right. “We'll take it slow.”

“How slow?” she whispered as the first raindrops slashed against the window.

“Very slow,” he assured her. Quinn laced his fingers into hers and drew her closer as if they were going to dance. Sara stepped into the circle of his arms, as impressed by his strength as by how carefully he controlled his power. He held so much in check, so that he wouldn't hurt her.

“Not more than once?”

“That too,” he assured her. “Over and over again, until we get it perfect.”

“Just perfect,” she agreed and he smiled. Sara ran her hands over Quinn's shoulders and felt his muscles flex beneath her caress. She was aware of him watching her, of the glimmer of his eyes, of his bemused smile. His fingers splayed across the back of her waist, holding her captive before him and lifting her to her toes. Sara felt the heat of him beneath her hands and the sizzle that was awakened by the sweep of her fingertips across his flesh.

She let her hands trail to frame his neck, savoring the smooth texture of his skin. She wanted to touch him all over and she leaned her stomach more fully against him. He caught his breath when his erection pressed against her belly but Sara liked the feel of him.

She held her hands at his throat, feeling his pulse beat beneath her hands, certain it matched the pace of her own. Her fingertips trailed upward, over his jaw, across the prickle of stubble on his cheeks. Then she pushed her fingers into his hair, losing sight of them in the dark waves, and pulled his head down.

Quinn bent his head and kissed her. This kiss was more potent than the last, tinged with an urgency that made Sara's heart skip. Quinn lifted her to the tips of her toes and kissed her thoroughly. She opened her mouth to him, loving how their tongues dueled and danced. Her nipples beaded tightly and she rubbed them against his chest. The wind rattled the windowpanes and the thunder boomed. Lightning struck close at hand. Sara wasn't sure whether that was why the hair rose on her neck, or whether it was Quinn.