strong
arms wrap around my waist just as my eyes rolled back and the world went dark
once more.
Chapter 4
Owen
She wasn’t moving.
She should be moving.
I shrugged the jacket from my shoulders and tossed the
garment to the sofa. For a moment, I merely stared at her, as if I could will
Emma to open her damn eyes. Hell, I’d take her biting sarcasm and offensive
indifference.
But she remained stubbornly still, her eyes firmly shut.
With a sigh, I tapped my foot, needing to do something, anything . I’d studied, I’d read, I’d heard stories about what would
happen when powers were transferred, but I’d never experienced it, and I sure
as hell never expected this. Should she be this pale? This still?
I hesitated a moment, then knelt beside her and rested the
back of my hand to her cheek. Cool to the touch, smooth as marble and just as
white. Even ill she was pretty, really pretty. And I couldn’t deny the woman
was interesting. No, she was stunning when she had that mischievous sparkle in
her eyes. I picked up a well-loved stuffed gray cat from the sofa. It was hers;
I could smell her on the material. When she laughed…shite, the sound was like
heated, pulsing music that swept through me in a way I’d never expected. I
couldn’t control my own reaction.
And that worried me.
I tossed the cat back to the sofa and stood, only to pace in
front of her. Back, forth, until the floorboards underfoot creaked unnaturally
loud in the silent building, everyone else most likely at work. Surely, I was
overreacting. She was okay. I would sense it if anything were wrong. Wouldn’t
I?
Hell if I knew. I’d never had any problems with Clarice.
She’d been the ideal client. Then again, for her I’d been more of a bodyguard
than teacher. Clarice had been born knowing what she was. She’d taught me more
than I’d taught her.
I paused and gazed around the small flat, attempting to get
a better feel for the woman I was fated to be with. Her apartment was
interesting, if not exactly neat. Photographs hung on the walls: a landscape,
the close-up of a shell, her sister. All in black and white, all lovely in some
ethereal way. No photos of men cheating. No indication of the stubborn woman
who had taken the pictures. She was talented. Too bad once she accepted her new
position in life, she wouldn’t have time for the arts.
I rubbed the back of my neck and paced once more. Where was
Jotham when I needed him? I hadn’t expected this…this woman who cursed like a
sailor, who hid in vegetation, who thrived on breaking up marriages. I released
a wry laugh and scrubbed my hands over my face. No. Nothing had prepared me for
Emma Watts. Yet here I was, and here I would be, by her side for the rest of
her life, whether she wanted me or not.
A soft moan escaped her lips. Relief made my knees weak, yet
indecision held me captive. Should I go to her? Most likely she’d find my
intrusion annoying. Perhaps instead I should get her some water. No, tea. Yes,
tea; tea was always good.
In three quick strides I reached the small kitchen. As I
searched the cupboards, I was all too aware that everything had come down to
this moment. There was no going back now. She was mine. I pushed aside dirty
dishes that threatened to tumble over, until I found a stainless steel kettle.
“Oh God,” she muttered, her voice raspy. “What happened?”
“You fainted.” I turned just in time to see her bolt
upright, that long blonde hair falling in silky waves around her pale face.
The shock in her blue eyes gave way to fury. “How the heck
did you get into my apartment?”
That was appreciation
for you . “I carried you here.” She just stared at me as if she hadn’t a
clue what I was talking about. I had a feeling the hysterics were about to
arrive. “After you fainted. A nice thank-you would do.”
She jumped to her feet, stumbling back and putting the
coffee table between us, as if that could protect her. Hell, she needed
training, and fast.
arms wrap around my waist just as my eyes rolled back and the world went dark
once more.
Chapter 4
Owen
She wasn’t moving.
She should be moving.
I shrugged the jacket from my shoulders and tossed the
garment to the sofa. For a moment, I merely stared at her, as if I could will
Emma to open her damn eyes. Hell, I’d take her biting sarcasm and offensive
indifference.
But she remained stubbornly still, her eyes firmly shut.
With a sigh, I tapped my foot, needing to do something, anything . I’d studied, I’d read, I’d heard stories about what would
happen when powers were transferred, but I’d never experienced it, and I sure
as hell never expected this. Should she be this pale? This still?
I hesitated a moment, then knelt beside her and rested the
back of my hand to her cheek. Cool to the touch, smooth as marble and just as
white. Even ill she was pretty, really pretty. And I couldn’t deny the woman
was interesting. No, she was stunning when she had that mischievous sparkle in
her eyes. I picked up a well-loved stuffed gray cat from the sofa. It was hers;
I could smell her on the material. When she laughed…shite, the sound was like
heated, pulsing music that swept through me in a way I’d never expected. I
couldn’t control my own reaction.
And that worried me.
I tossed the cat back to the sofa and stood, only to pace in
front of her. Back, forth, until the floorboards underfoot creaked unnaturally
loud in the silent building, everyone else most likely at work. Surely, I was
overreacting. She was okay. I would sense it if anything were wrong. Wouldn’t
I?
Hell if I knew. I’d never had any problems with Clarice.
She’d been the ideal client. Then again, for her I’d been more of a bodyguard
than teacher. Clarice had been born knowing what she was. She’d taught me more
than I’d taught her.
I paused and gazed around the small flat, attempting to get
a better feel for the woman I was fated to be with. Her apartment was
interesting, if not exactly neat. Photographs hung on the walls: a landscape,
the close-up of a shell, her sister. All in black and white, all lovely in some
ethereal way. No photos of men cheating. No indication of the stubborn woman
who had taken the pictures. She was talented. Too bad once she accepted her new
position in life, she wouldn’t have time for the arts.
I rubbed the back of my neck and paced once more. Where was
Jotham when I needed him? I hadn’t expected this…this woman who cursed like a
sailor, who hid in vegetation, who thrived on breaking up marriages. I released
a wry laugh and scrubbed my hands over my face. No. Nothing had prepared me for
Emma Watts. Yet here I was, and here I would be, by her side for the rest of
her life, whether she wanted me or not.
A soft moan escaped her lips. Relief made my knees weak, yet
indecision held me captive. Should I go to her? Most likely she’d find my
intrusion annoying. Perhaps instead I should get her some water. No, tea. Yes,
tea; tea was always good.
In three quick strides I reached the small kitchen. As I
searched the cupboards, I was all too aware that everything had come down to
this moment. There was no going back now. She was mine. I pushed aside dirty
dishes that threatened to tumble over, until I found a stainless steel kettle.
“Oh God,” she muttered, her voice raspy. “What happened?”
“You fainted.” I turned just in time to see her bolt
upright, that long blonde hair falling in silky waves around her pale face.
The shock in her blue eyes gave way to fury. “How the heck
did you get into my apartment?”
That was appreciation
for you . “I carried you here.” She just stared at me as if she hadn’t a
clue what I was talking about. I had a feeling the hysterics were about to
arrive. “After you fainted. A nice thank-you would do.”
She jumped to her feet, stumbling back and putting the
coffee table between us, as if that could protect her. Hell, she needed
training, and fast.
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