Kiss of Fire (7 page)

She shook her head.

“Then we have something else in common, besides preferring a simple life,” he said lightly. “We're both alone.”

Sara looked up and her gaze locked with his. It was warm in the shop and got warmer as Quinn stared back at her. The sounds of activity in the arcade sounded distant and irrelevant.

The woman before him was the focus of his attention. As their gazes held, Quinn felt their breathing match rhythms. He was aware of the beat of her heart, thanks to his keen senses, and he heard his own pulse synchronize with hers.

The firestorm was as magical and potent as he'd believed.

Quinn could smell the heat on Sara's skin, the mingling of her perfume and her own scent, and it fed the heat simmering in his own veins. She licked her lips and inhaled slowly, a move that made her breasts rise and Quinn's desire burn.

She was his mate, his destiny, his prize.

His princess.

The weight of Sara's ponytail fell over her shoulder, making him want to push it back from her neck. Her hair was brushed to a smooth gleam of burnished gold, no less attractive than it had been all disheveled the night before. Her skin was tanned to honey and looked so soft and precious that he wanted to brush his fingertips across her.

Right under her ear. He'd kiss her there and find out if she was as delicate as she looked.

Or maybe as strong as she appeared. He wanted to unknot that scarf and caress her neck, smoothing away the bruise there.

And then, he'd kiss the rest of her.

Slowly.

Thoroughly.

Sara caught her breath and looked down at the books on the counter, her cheeks still flushed. Quinn wondered whether she had heard his thoughts or simply sensed them. “Do you know this prophecy about smiths and seers?”

“Nobody says it's true.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I'm skeptical about some things, too.”

She looked up in surprise and Quinn shrugged. “I believe in the fire and the forge. I believe in what I see and what I feel. I believe in the firestorm; I believe in duty and loyalty. Prophecies are another thing altogether.”

Sara seemed to find this persuasive. “Sounds like we have even more things in common,” she said quietly, then tore her gaze away. “So, what's the prophecy?”

“The union of one Smith and one Seer is supposed to herald a big change for the
Pyr
,” Quinn corrected softly. “If you believe that sort of thing.”

“The
Pyr
being…?”

“What I am.” He didn't blink when she glanced at him. Quinn decided to say it aloud. “Dragon shape shifters.”

Sara thought about this, which was better than her running, screaming, or tossing him out. “
Pyr
as in
pyromaniac
?”

Quinn smiled in his surprise. “Not the good guys, anyway.
Pyr
is the Greek word for fire or heat. We control the elements, including fire, hence the name. As in
pyrotechnics.
”

“Pyrex,” Sara said thoughtfully. “Because the glass is resistant to heat.”

“Pyre, because it burns.”

Her eyes sparkled suddenly and Quinn was intrigued by the unexpected glimpse of humor. The green in her hazel eyes was more predominant when she laughed. “Pyramid power?” she asked, her tone playful.

Quinn laughed. “Different section of your bookstore.” He shook a finger at her when her smile broadened. “And no Pyrrhic victories, please.”

“Oh, anything but that,” she agreed with mock horror.

Quinn glanced around the store. “You know, the answer to every question you have about me is probably in here.”

“I haven't read all the stock yet.” Sara's lips twisted. “And I don't believe a lot of what I have read. My aunt Magda, who started this shop,
she
was psychic. Also a bit of a flake, but a loveable one.”

Sara sighed and smiled, running her fingertips across the counter. She frowned slightly, and Quinn was touched that she couldn't hide her affection for her aunt so easily. They must have been close. Quinn remained silent, knowing how such a loss could hurt.

“I don't know anything about this stuff,” Sara said after a moment. “And what I read, well, let's say that I'm skeptical. And what you just did, well—” She met his gaze, a wary twinkle in her own. “I'm long past thinking that there are perfect men out there, but what you can do is really odd.”

She hadn't seen anything yet.

But she was open to him.

Quinn walked toward Sara and felt the heat increase between them. Her eyes widened slightly and he knew she felt the firestorm, too.

There was a trickle of perspiration on her neck and several tendrils of hair clung damply to her skin. Her lips parted when there was only the counter between them, and she looked both soft and welcoming. In this light, he could see that the hazel of her eyes was composed of a thousand shades of green and gold and brown, and that the gold was becoming dominant. He could also see the faint freckles on her nose and scattered across her chest. He wanted her, and knew he would have wanted her even without destiny on his side.

She was his destined mate.

They would be stronger together than apart, transformed by the firestorm the way that the forge transformed iron into steel.

But first he had to win her trust.

And with Sara, Quinn guessed that the truth would be the key.

“This is the firestorm.” Quinn held up his hand, his palm toward her, his fingers splayed. She raised her own hand, understanding his expectation so intuitively that he knew she was wrong about her psychic abilities. She slowly touched her hand to his, matching her fingertips to his own, and he liked that she wasn't fearful. She was a warrior princess, exactly the kind of mate he would have chosen for himself.

Destiny had gotten it in one.

Their hands were an inch apart when sparks flew. He saw Sara gasp when the fire leapt back and forth between their hands; then he caught her hand within his own.

He locked their fingers together as his blood simmered from the contact. When he felt her trembling, he put her hand upon his chest, trapping her hand against the thunder of his heart. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, but she didn't pull away.

“You can't evade the firestorm, Sara,” he said with quiet force. “And neither can I.”

Sara felt as if the world had stopped.

And then erupted into flames. She stared into the endless blue of Quinn's eyes, feeling his heartbeat beneath her hand. She was hot, hotter than she could ever remember being, but it felt exactly right.

The warmth between them made her want to curl up against Quinn, step into his arms, draw close to his fire. It made her want to go with him. Anywhere. Everywhere. Maybe it was what made her intuitively trust him, the way she didn't usually trust people she'd just met. It made her want to learn everything he knew. There was a shimmer under her skin and a sizzle in her veins.

Logically, she was sure it had to be plain old lust she was feeling, and that would be trouble enough. But she had a sense that Quinn was another order of magnitude of trouble.

Sara was thinking she was past due for this kind of trouble. Magda had told her a thousand times that she worked too hard to enjoy life's pleasures. Her mother's last words to Sara had been that Sara had to stop working and start living.

Maybe it was time Sara balanced her deficit.

With Quinn. The air-conditioning unit whirred with sudden vigor.

The breath of glacial air seemed to clarify Sara's thoughts. Quinn was a dragon shape shifter who made sparks dance between their hands.

Maybe she should start off a little slower. Keep it simple.

Date a normal man, for example. She pulled her hand from Quinn's grip and took a step back.

There was a mighty rattle from overhead, a wheeze from something mechanical, and then the air conditioner died. The shop seemed suddenly very silent as the pair of them looked up.

“What was that?” Quinn asked.

Sara glared at the ceiling. “That stupid air-conditioning unit has broken again.” She shook a finger at him. “Now, this
is
irrational. I'll call Malone's, and as soon as the repairman crosses that threshold, I guarantee that thing will start up again. It'll purr as contentedly as a kitten the whole time he's here and he won't be able to find anything wrong with it. That's happened four times already this week.”

“Maybe there isn't anything wrong with it.”

“Did that sound to you as if there was nothing wrong with it?”

Quinn leaned against the counter. “Maybe it didn't like you pulling away from me.”

Sara laughed even though Quinn was serious. “Right. Next you'll be telling me that Magda is haunting the place.”

“Does she?”

“Of course not! There's no such thing as ghosts.”

He smiled ever so slightly, as if she was the whimsical one. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Sara said firmly.

“Then how do you explain your air conditioner?”

“Maybe I just need a better repairman. There has to be a broken part or some rational reason why it breaks down.”

Quinn looked up, apparently thoughtful. Sara took advantage of the moment to study him. Maybe it said something about her lack of a social life that she thought he was the sexiest man she'd ever seen, even knowing what she knew.

Or maybe that said more about just how sexy Quinn was.

He looked at her so suddenly that he caught her staring, and Sara flushed. “You have to know that seers inherit their gift,” he said. The air conditioner sputtered to life, prompting him to smile the slow smile that melted Sara's bones.

And her reservations.

Maybe he had magical powers of another kind.

“That was a coincidence,” she said, hating that her tone lacked conviction. “I'm no seer.”

Quinn arched a dark brow. He picked up the mermaid, which was obviously cold again, and turned it over. “Where do you keep those tools? I'll hang the door knocker while I'm here.”

“There's a toolbox in the back closet, over there.” When Quinn would have turned away, Sara reached out and touched his hand. She was still startled by the spark, but liked that he paused at her touch. “What's this prophecy, Quinn?”

He hesitated for a moment, then seemed to recite something he'd memorized a long time before.

Quinn held Sara's gaze for a telling moment as she struggled to make sense of his words, then tossed the mermaid in his hand and turned away to fetch the tools.

She was going to have Quinn's child?

And their baby would save the planet?

Unfortunately, it wasn't the first odd thing Sara had heard that day. She swallowed and felt pain in her neck, a reminder that someone had wanted to kill her.

And Erik had warned her as much. She blinked and looked down at the books that the leader of the
Pyr
had chosen for her.

Quinn returned with a drill and an extension cord, as well as a screwdriver. He moved with the athletic grace Sara already associated with him, as if he were totally in touch with the realities of the world. She cleared her throat slightly and he glanced up. “I didn't imagine the dragon bit, did I?”

Quinn shook his head. “Sorry. No.”

“Do you do that often?”

“Not as much as I once did.” He paused, then seemed to decide to say more. “It's not always under my control.”

“Sometimes it just happens?”

“No, it's predictable.” He opened the door and positioned the knocker. He glanced at Sara and she nodded approval of the location. “Lunar eclipses bring it on, so I keep an astronomical calendar. Even if I can't see the eclipse, I feel its effects.”

“I didn't think there was a lunar eclipse today.”

“There wasn't.” Quinn looked grim. “You have to understand that it's a fighting form, triggered by the need to protect something or someone.”

“Like someone you like?” Sara asked, the words sounding silly as soon as she uttered them.

“A treasure.” Quinn fired a hot glance her way. “Like my destined mate.”