Raintree Read online

  The bottom dropped out of Dante’s stomach and his gut clenched. Last night he’d been rolling on a condom when abruptly he knew that he didn’t want to wear protection. Lorna had been watching him, waiting, and she’d noticed his long hesitation. Finally, without a word, he’d pulled off the condom and tossed it aside, then steadily met her gaze. If she wanted him to put on another one, he would; the choice was hers.

  She had reached out and pulled him down and into her. Just remembering the intense half hour that had followed turned him on so much that the candle beside the bed flared to life.

  Today was the solstice, and he felt as if he could set the world on fire, as if his skin would burst from all the power boiling inside him. He wanted to pull her under him and ride her until he was completely empty, until she had taken everything he had to give. First, though, they had to have a very serious talk. Last night they’d done something that was too important for them to let drift along.

  As he sat down on the edge of the bed, he extinguished the candle, because a candle that was already lit was useless as a barometer of his control. This conversation might be emotionally charged, so he would have to be very careful.

  He slid his hand under the sheet and touched her bare thigh. “Lorna. Wake up.”

  He felt her tense, as always; then she relaxed, and one sleepy hazel eye blinked open and glared at him over the edge of the sheet. “Why? It’s Sunday, the day of rest. I’m resting. Go away.”

  He tugged the sheet down. “Wake up. Breakfast is ready.”

  “It is not. You’re lying. You’ve been on the balcony.” She grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her head.

  “How do you know that, if you’ve been asleep?”

  “I didn’t say I was sleeping, I said I was resting.”

  “Eating isn’t considered work. Come on. I have fresh orange juice, coffee, the bagels are already toasted, and the sunrise is great.”

  “To you, maybe, but it’s five-thirty on Sunday morning, and I don’t want to eat breakfast this early. I want one day a week when you don’t drag me out of bed at the crack of dark-thirty.”

  “Next Sunday you can sleep, I promise.” Rather than fight her for custody of the sheet, he slid his hand under the covers, found her thigh again and swiftly reached upward to pinch her ass.

  She squeaked and bolted out of bed, rubbing her backside. “Payback will be hell,” she warned, as she pushed her disheveled hair out of her face and stalked off to the bathroom.

  He imagined it would be. Dante grinned as he returned to the balcony.

  She came out five minutes later, wrapped in his thick robe and still scowling. She wasn’t wearing anything under the robe, so he enjoyed glimpses as she plopped into a chair across from him. It also gaped at the neck, revealing the gold chain from which hung the protection charm he’d given her on Wednesday night. He’d made it specifically for her, out here on the balcony, and let her watch. She’d been enthralled at the way he cupped the charm and held it up so his breath warmed it as he murmured a few words in Gaelic. The charm had taken on a gentle green glow that quickly faded. When he slipped the chain over her head she had fingered the charm, looking as if she might cry. She hadn’t taken it off since.

  As grumpy as she was when she first woke, she didn’t stay that way for long. By the time she’d had her second bite of bagel she was looking much more cheerful. Still, he waited until she’d finished the bagel and her juice glass was empty before he said, “Will you marry me?”

  She had much the same reaction as when he’d mentioned a baby. She paled, then turned red, then jumped out of her chair and went to stand at the railing with her back to him. Dante knew a lot about women, but more specifically, he knew Lorna, so he didn’t leave her standing there alone. He caged her with his arms, putting his hands on top of hers on the railing, not holding her tightly but giving her his warmth. “Is the question that hard to answer?”

  He felt her shoulders heave. Alarmed, he turned her around. Tears were streaking down her face. “Lorna?”

  She wasn’t sobbing, but her lips were trembling. “I’m sorry,” she said, swiping at her face. “I know this is silly. It’s just—no one has ever wanted me before.”

  “I doubt that. Probably you just didn’t notice them wanting you. I wanted you the minute I saw you.”

  “Not that kind of wanting.” Another tear leaked down. “The other kind, the staying-around kind.”

  “I love you,” he said gently, mentally cursing the bitch who had given birth to her for not nurturing the sense of security that every child should have, the knowledge that, no matter what, someone loved her and wanted her.

  “I know. I believe you.” She gulped. “I sort of figured it out when you deliberately wrecked your Jaguar to protect me.”

  “I knew I could buy another car,” he said simply.

  “That’s when I knew that you’d ruined me, that I wouldn’t be able to leave unless you threw me out. I kept hoping it was just old-fashioned lust I was feeling, but I knew better, and it scared me to death.” She gave a shaky laugh, despite the slow roll of yet another tear. “In just two days, you’d ruined me.”

  He rubbed the side of his nose. “We hadn’t had much time together, but it was quality time.”

  “Quality!” She gaped at him, mouth open. Indignation dried her tears. “You manhandled me, dragged me into a fire, tore open my head and smashed my brain flat, tore off my clothes and kept me a prisoner!”

  “I didn’t say it was good quality. You have a way with words, you know that? ‘Tore open your head,’ my ass.”

  “You don’t like it when I call it ‘brain-rape,’” she said sourly. “And I think I have a better grasp of how it felt than you do.”

  “I guess you do, at that. When you voluntarily link with someone, it doesn’t—”

  “Good God.” She looked horrified. “Some of you actually do that willingly?”

  “I told you, it doesn’t hurt when it’s done right. If someone needs to boost their power, they find someone else who is willing to link. Every so often Gideon and I go home to Sanctuary, and we link with Mercy to perform a protection spell over the homeplace. Doing it right takes time, but it doesn’t hurt. Will you answer the—”

  “I hope you have some kind of law against doing it without permission.”

  “Uh—no.”

  She looked horrified. “You mean you Raintree people can just go around breaking into people’s heads, and nobody does anything about it?”

  He was beginning to feel frustrated. Would the woman never answer his question? “I didn’t say that. Very few of us are strong enough to overpower someone else’s brain unless they cooperate.”

  “And you’re one of those few,” she said sarcastically. “Right. Lucky me.”

  “Specifically, only the royal family. Which I’ve asked you to join, I’d like to point out, if you’ll answer the damn question!”

  She smiled, and it was like a ray of sunshine breaking across her lively, mobile face. “Of course I will. Did you really doubt it?”

  “I never know which way you’ll jump. I thought you might love me, because you stayed. Then, last night—” He flicked a finger over her chin. “Not telling me to wear a condom was a dead giveaway.”

  She stared at him, a peculiar expression stealing over her face.

  He straightened, instantly alert. “What’s wrong?” Just that quickly she looked sick, as if she were going to throw up.

  She rubbed her arms, frowning. “I’m cold. It’s that same—” She broke off, her eyes widening with horror, and before he could react she threw herself bodily at him, catching him unprepared for the impact of her weight. He caught her, staggering back, then lurching to the side as he tried to catch his balance and failed. They fell to the floor of the balcony in a tangle of arms, legs and bathrobe as the French door behind him shattered. Hard on the explosion of glass came a sharp, flat retort that echoed through the mountains.

  Rifle fire.

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