Winter Solstice
Love with a beautiful stranger isn’t so strange—if you believe in destiny.
Celestial Seductions, Book 1
Clinical psychologist Destiny Walker considers herself far too logical for any of that “soul mate” nonsense. Even if her beloved, dearly departed Nana insisted she was going to meet hers someday. When a sudden downpour sends her ducking into a psychic reader’s storefront—and the woman confirms everything her grandmother said—doubt begins to sneak into the corners of her mind.
A chance meeting—more like a collision—with Superman look-alike Reece Kellan sets off a sexual chemistry reaction the likes of which she’s never felt. She isn’t prone to falling into bed with strangers, but he does things to her body that leave her breathless…and unsure where her pleasure ends and his begins.
And that’s the part that scares the hell out of her…
This book has been previously published and has been revised and expanded from its original release.
Warning: Dirty sex with a stranger, a little anal play, more dirty sex, sex on the kitchen table, more dirty sex (because really, can you ever get enough?) and even love at first sight—shocking!
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
Winter Solstice
Copyright © 2009 by Eden Bradley
ISBN: 978-1-60504-847-5
Edited by Bethany Morgan
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: December 2009
Winter Solstice
Eden Bradley
Dedication
To R.G. Alexander, who always points me in the right direction and cheers me on, mercilessly, until I do what’s best for me.
Chapter One
Destiny ran for cover under the closest awning as the sky opened up and rain splashed down around her. Her clothes were wet through already, her hair dripping. She wiped a damp curl from her face, thinking that the thunderous gray sky matched her mood. It was her first Christmas without family, and she was feeling as gloomy on the inside as the weather was outside.
She watched as other holiday shoppers ducked into the colorful shops and cafés all along the street in the hip North Hollywood theater district. They were as unprepared for this sudden storm as she was. Even in December rain was rare in Los Angeles, especially when it had been balmy and clear only minutes earlier.
Since her car was parked a good six blocks away and she had no intention of ruining a brand new pair of suede boots, she was stuck here in front of…what? She turned around to read a neon sign stating “Psychic Readings”.
Why couldn’t she have been stranded in front of a Starbucks? She could use a nice hot latte about now. The cold was starting to creep through to her skin already. But when she peered into the windows of the storefronts on either side, she saw that one housed a law office and the other was vacant; it wasn’t as though she had another easy option. And as the rain came down harder and she began to shiver in her damp clothes, going inside didn’t seem like such a bad idea, if only to escape the rain until it had a chance to clear up. The whole psychic thing was completely counter to her usual logical self, but several of her friends had consulted psychics. It might be interesting. And it was certainly better than standing out in the downpour.
The bright blue wooden door had a square pane of glass set into it, and she leaned closer to look inside. It was too dark to see anything. But as she pulled away she caught her reflection.
Or was it? The face in the glass was hers, yet not hers.
Nana?
A pain in her chest, the one that never seemed to quite go away these days, thinking of Nana. But yes, she was the spitting image of her grandmother, or how her grandmother must have looked at this age—the wild red curls, the pointed chin, the mouth that had always seemed too full to her. Perhaps this was a message from Nana telling her to go inside? Not that she actually believe in such things, but with her darling Nana so recently passed, she could allow herself a moment of sentimental foolishness.
The sky thundered and the rain came down harder, pounding the sidewalk, splashing her boots. With a sigh of resignation she pulled on the brass handle of the blue door and slipped through.
It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She found herself in a small foyer with a hardwood floor and a curtained doorway to her left. The place smelled of amber and sandalwood. It was silent.
“Hello?”
No answer. She tried again. “Is anybody here?”
She had just decided that this was a bad idea after all when she heard a crisp rustling to her left and the curtain was pulled aside. She didn’t know exactly what she’d expected, but the woman holding the curtain didn’t fit any idea she might have had of a fortune-teller. Maybe a dark-haired gypsy in flowing skirts and dangly gold jewelry. But instead a short, plump woman with rosy cheeks stood in the doorway, her silvery hair a soft cloud around her face. She wore loose linen pants and a silk tunic the color of new grass. A simple crescent moon studded with amethyst swung from a long silver chain around her neck as she moved into the foyer. Pale blue eyes hid behind small wire-framed glasses. She looked like somebody’s grandmother. Like Destiny’s grandmother.
Why was she thinking so much about Nana today? It had been a year already since she’d passed. Yes, a year this month. What was the date? December twenty-first. A year ago today.
“Ah, you’re here,” the older woman said. “Welcome. I’m Madame Anna. Right this way.”
She turned and disappeared through the curtain, and Destiny had no option but to follow her into a small room that looked exactly as a fortune-teller’s lair should. The walls were painted a dark shade of red that was barely discernable in the dim light cast by a Tiffany-style lamp and flickering candles. The woman led her to a round, red-draped table in the center of the room where a cone of incense burned on a small plate, a tendril of gray smoke snaking its way into the air. She sat in one padded, velvet-covered chair and gestured Destiny into the other.
“What would you like, my dear? A palm reading? Tarot cards? Tea leaves?”
“You’re the psychic, you tell me,” Destiny quipped, then was immediately remorseful. Why was she being rude to this nice woman?
But Madame Anna simply nodded, the same warm smile on her face. “Give me your palm then.”
Destiny hesitated. She didn’t even know why. This was all simply for fun, wasn’t it? What was there to be afraid of? She was being uncharacteristically silly.
“Come on. I won’t bite.” The woman smiled again, her small blue eyes twinkling.
The tiny hairs at the back of Destiny’s neck prickled as she laid her hand, palm up, on the table. Madame Anna held it in hers lightly, traced soft fingers over the lines, closed her eyes. The silence almost seemed to resonate through the room. Destiny took a moment to glance around and noticed for the first time a large gray cat curled up on a footstool in one corner, half-hidden by a potted palm tree. The cat’s eyes glowed golden in the reflected light of the candles, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that the animal was watching her.
Madame Anna squeezed her hand, and a shiver raced up Destiny’s spine. “Ah. Yes, I see it.”
“What?” Destiny had to force herself not to pull her hand back.
“You have come to me on a most portentous day.”
“Have I?” she asked, certain the woman said the same thing to all her customers.
“Do you know what today is? It’s the Winter Solstice. A time for new beginnings.”
That sounded vague. But what else could she have expected?
A few strokes of fingertips across her palm. “You’re naturally analytical, organized. A place for everything and everything in its place. It serves you well in work, but perhaps not as well in your personal life.”
“Well…”
Destiny thought about the arguments she’d always seemed to get into with her last two boyfriends. They’d both told her she needed to loosen up. Maybe she did like everything in its place, but she couldn’t understand why anyone wanted to live surrounded by chaos. And anyway, it seemed the sort of thing you could say to almost anyone, a generic remark. As a psychologist, analysis
was
the definition of her job, but this woman had no way of knowing that.
“And you have a great love for designer shoes.”
Destiny gave a small snorting laugh. “You can tell that from looking at my hand?”
Madame Anna glanced up. “You’re boots are Prada. I spotted them when you came in.”
The twinkle in her eye made Destiny relax a bit and she smiled, her shoulders loosening.
“Look here.” Madame Anna brushed her finger over a spot on Destiny’s palm, and she could have sworn heat from the woman’s fingertip burrowed into her hand and spread up her arm. “This is your love line. And this is your fate line. They converge right here.”
“And that means…?”
“It means you are going to meet your soul mate.”
“There’s no such thing as soul mates.”
“Ah, but this isn’t news to you, is it?”
The woman’s eyes met hers, and Destiny had a flash of Nana’s sweet, lined face, of her grandmother telling her the same thing only days before she died. She’d said she felt fine leaving this earth because she knew her granddaughter was going to be happy.
Destiny blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. Of course, Nana had been lucky enough to have one of those marriages. Her husband had been the great love of her life, and her passing had been bittersweet because all she’d really wanted was to be with her husband, who had passed five years before her. But Destiny had never for a moment thought she would find that kind of love. Her Nana had been lucky. Just luck, plain and simple.
“All this talk of soul mates…it’s nothing more than a fantasy. I’m the kind of person who lives my life grounded in reality.”
Why had she even come in here? This was ridiculous.
Madame Anna’s gaze locked on hers. Her voice was gentle. “She told you, didn’t she? If you can’t believe me, believe her.”
The woman’s words seemed to come to her from very far away, carried on a whiff of lilacs.
Nana.
Destiny yanked her hand back.
Fumbling for her wallet, she pulled out a few twenties and tossed them on the table. “I think I’m done here. Thank you all the same.”
Why did she feel so jangled? She had to get out of there. The smoke from the incense, or whatever it was, was making her eyes water.
The older woman stood and held the crumpled bills out to her. “I can’t take your money. You haven’t had a full reading. There’s more to tell.”
“I don’t think I want to know any more. All of this soul-mate stuff…I don’t believe it. And even if I did, how does anyone know? A person can talk themselves into believing anyone they’re attracted to is their soul mate. It’s a combination of transference and a sort of delusional denial.”
Madame Anna took Destiny’s shaking hand and held it in her warm grasp, tucking the bills back into her palm. “Attraction and the merging of two destined souls are entirely different things. It always starts with attraction, doesn’t it? But this goes far beyond that. You’ll know. It will be unmistakable. And it will be soon.”
“This is silly.”
But why was every hair on her body standing on end? And why couldn’t she get that last conversation with her Nana out of her mind?
She was facing her second Christmas without her grandmother, that was all. A classic case of separation anxiety. Which must also explain why she could still smell the lilacs, her grandmother’s favorite scent. Her mind was playing tricks on her. “I have to go.”
“Yes.” The woman smiled again, her blue eyes lighting up. “Yes, you do, Miss Walker.”
Destiny had already opened the blue door to the street before she realized she’d never told the woman her name.
Outside the rain pelted the sidewalk with a drumming force. So much for waiting the storm out. She would have to make a run for her car if she was ever going to get home. Her new boots would be ruined. Still, she hesitated. The damp air had her shivering from her earlier soaking.
How did she know my name?
She shook her head, pushed her damp hair from her face, watching the rain for several moments. It was still coming down in buckets, but standing there thinking about it wouldn’t get her home. She pulled in a deep breath, ducked her head and dashed into the downpour. And was met by a brick wall.
She landed on the wet sidewalk. When she looked up she had to blink through the rain to see what she’d run into. A man with broad shoulders, dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses. She would have called him clean cut—he had those square, defined features—but his dark, too-long hair looked as though he’d run his hands through it. When he pulled his glasses off his face to reveal a pair of startling blue eyes, she had a quick flash of Superman.
Lord, his eyes were blue, the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Mesmerizing. Several moments passed before she realized he was apologizing and offering his hand to help her up.
She blinked as he grabbed her by the elbows and pulled her to her feet and back beneath the awning. My God, he was beautiful. Beautiful in the way men could be sometimes, but rarely, as though his features had been carved from fine marble. And those remarkable eyes…
She could smell the lilacs again, sharp and clear in the air.
She swayed, and he slid an arm around her waist to steady her. His touch hummed like the soft echo of an electric current running through her body, lighting her up with need.
“Are you okay?”
She heard a faint hint of an accent there. Irish, maybe?
Nice. Nice face. Nice, broad shoulders. Shoulders to lean on.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she managed to say while pushing her curls out of her face.
Had the fall shaken her up, or was it him?
“Lord, I’m sorry.” Yes, definitely Irish. “I was trying to get out of this rain and you ran out right in front of me…not that I’m saying it’s your fault.”
“No, of course not.”
“You sure you’re all right then?”
“I think I am. Yes.”
The truth was, she was feeling a little light headed. The whole world seemed blurry, as though she were seeing everything through the rain. Everything except his face.
Did she know him from somewhere? But no, she’d never seen him before, she was sure of it.
Wasn’t she?
The lilacs were dissipating, just that faint whiff at the edge of her senses.
“You do seem a bit shaken up.” He paused, looked around. “The least I can do is buy you a coffee. There’s a café across the street. Unless you’d rather get home? I promise not to knock you over again.”
“No, I don’t want to go home.” She shook her head, tried again. “I mean, I’d love some coffee.”
Actually, she would love to go home with
him
, but she wasn’t about to say so. When was the last time a man had made her feel like this? This exquisite sense of anticipation simply standing next to him. This buzz of desire running sharp and hot through her body.
He took her arm, an old-fashioned gesture she loved immediately. She felt steadier with her arm in his. Steadier, and yet that current was still there, lighting her up inside.
“Shall we make a run for it, then?” He smiled, a dazzling flash of perfect white teeth.
Destiny nodded, smiled back.
They ran through the rain. By the time they reached the other side of the street she was wet through her light cotton wrap sweater and even her jeans. She was surprised to feel a surge of disappointment when he let go of her arm to open the door of the café for her, letting her pass through before him.
The café was done in a cozy ’50s diner style, with red vinyl booths, black-and-white tiled floors and shining chrome accents. It was blissfully warm inside. An aproned waitress led them to a booth and immediately brought them coffee.