Craving (5 page)

“It’s one of Ellie’s favorite pieces of television, where Colin Firth rises from the lake in a wet shirt.” I realized I was babbling and forced myself to sound more normal. The snake tattoo pillowed his head, while the dragon’s eyes seemed to gaze at me from Dante’s arm, which rested on his chest as he rolled to stare at me. I dropped my eyes to the paperback on my lap.

“
Pride and Prejudice
is a timeless love story. Mr. Darcy is too proud, while Lizzie Bennett is prejudiced against him. Despite their differences, they’re attracted to each other.” My cheeks warmed, and I glanced at him through the curtain of my hair. A lazy grin spread across his face, his eyes hooded.
Gods
. He couldn’t be less like the delectable Mr. Darcy if he tried. I visualized Dante in a billowing white shirt and tight breeches. Nope. Definitely not Mr. Darcy. But neither was I the naïve and prejudiced Lizzie Bennett.

Dante yawned, covering his mouth. “I’ve not read much. And my taste in movies doesn’t run to
love stories
.” He sounded disgusted by the thought.

“Let me guess—action flicks? Sci-Fi? Horror perhaps?”

A short laugh. “Now who’s prejudiced? I’m a guy, therefore I only want to watch fast cars and guns, with a side helping of scantily clad chicks, yeah?”

“Name your top five films.”

“What’s yours?”

I thought for a moment. “
Independence Day, Notting Hill, The Shining, Chocolat
and probably either
The Birds
or
Rebecca
. I like classic Hitchcocks.”

“That’s six.”

“Two of them are tied for fifth.”

He nodded slowly. “Can I claim a series as one film?” I nodded. “
Godzilla
series,
Fast and Furious
series,
The Pink Panther
movies—the originals with Peter Sellers—and anything with Angelina Jolie in it.” His grin was just too inviting. My pulse thrummed as I considered his choices.

“I was partly right. Sci-Fi, fast cars and Angelina Jolie.”

“So bite me.” He sounded sleepy, and moments later, another yawn emerged. As he burrowed into the pillow, he muttered, slightly croaky, “Where do you come from, Kitten? Why are you so keen on séances?”

I fell back on my usual half-truths. “I’m studying my Masters in Critical Psychology at Manchester Uni. These séances are part of the research for my dissertation.” I slipped my bookmark into place and closed the book, buying myself a few moments. “My family lives in Wilmslow, so I don’t bother with student accommodation. It’s easier to live at home.”
My father wants to keep me close.
“I’m planning a year in Europe after my final coursework, then I’ll probably study for my PhD.”
Except, I’m not planning on coming back.

I smiled down at him, mildly envious of the long dark lashes resting on his cheeks. With his hair ruffled and messy, he looked entirely sweet and unthreatening. My mind flashed to the events earlier, and I issued myself a firm reminder. Warm and fuzzy feelings were absolutely not allowed. I wanted Dante for one purpose only. I wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“How do you know Tristan?”

Okay, not asleep yet. “He’s part of my study group. They all are.”

Silver eyes peered up at me. Again, I had the disconcerting feeling that he could read my thoughts. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Tell me about your godparents.”

I hesitated. Once more, the truth was too complicated to share. “Not much to say. We’re close. I spent a lot of my summer holidays here. The farm belonged to Sam’s parents. He took over when they retired. He’s trying to diversify his crops, moving into organics and herbs.”

Dante stayed silent this time and I breathed an inward sigh of relief. I leaned back against the pillows and picked up my book, only I couldn’t concentrate. Dante had assumed I was seeing Tristan. He’d not asked if I
had
a boyfriend. I wondered how he’d react if he knew the truth.

I awoke some time later, dying of thirst again. Where was I? I quickly scanned my surroundings. Yep, still in Kitten’s bed. She slept in her chair with her back to me, arms tight around a pillow, knees curled up. Little snuffling noises emerged. I took in my surroundings. She’d left the bathroom light on and the door ajar to let a narrow shaft of light spill into the room. I guessed it was to act as a nightlight for my benefit. My chest warmed at the thought.

There was enough light for me to make my way out of the bedroom, and I moved silently, my footsteps muffled by thick socks. It wasn’t fair to disturb her. I flicked on the light over the counter, found a tumbler and filled it with cold water. I emptied the glass in seconds. I was stronger now, my muscles less shaky, but a dull headache remained. I drank a second glass of water and pressed the cold tumbler to my forehead. I should be fine to leave in the morning.

A noise from the bedroom broke into my thoughts and I padded back to the doorway, peering into the gloom. Kitten was still asleep, but shifting and restless now, with little whimpering sounds escaping from her mouth. I had enough nightmares without seeing someone else go through one. Gran always used to wake me.

I stood next to the chair and leaned down. “Kitten,” I whispered into her ear. “Kitten, wake up.”

Her body trembled beneath my hand as I closed my fingers around her shoulder. The T-shirt was absurdly soft beneath my fingers. Her perfume filled my nostrils, something fresh and summery that conjured up images of sandy beaches and foamy surf.

“
Kitten
.” I spoke louder and it worked. She drew in a short gasping breath, then a longer more ragged one before rolling to face me. My hand dropped away as she moved.

“Dante?” She sounded bewildered. Her eyes blinked rapidly at me as her chest heaved, those glorious breasts almost touching me.

My mouth dry, I swallowed and tried to focus on her face, on the tears that had escaped. “Hey.” Moving slowly, I gently wiped under her eyes. “You okay, Kitten?”

“Katherine.” Even though upset, she managed to sound sharp, and I tried not to smile.

“You look far more like a kitten that’s had its fur ruffled.”
Too appealing by half
. “Bad dream?”

“Yes.” Another shuddering breath and she closed the gap between us, pressing her face into my chest. I froze. Her fisted hands rose up to rest against my shoulders.
Was she fully awake?
Perhaps she thought this was part of her dream, but
God
, she felt divine nestled into me.

When she spoke, her voice was muffled. “I’m glad you’re here, Dante.”

This was unexpected. And rather nice. After a moment’s hesitation, I slipped my arms around her and breathed in her scent.
Intoxicating
. My fingers played with the ends of her hair—soft and silky, it made a splash of color over the white pillow behind her.
How would it feel draped over my skin?
I raised my hand to the back of her head, tracing the bones of her spine, seeking out the fine hairs that nestled hidden from view. Her neck arched into my hand.

“I need you, Dante.” A whisper.

I smiled over her head, relishing the feel of her curves pressed against me.

“Kitten,” I murmured, “I had no idea, baby.” I nuzzled her hair, pressing a series of tiny kisses over the shell of her ear, pleased when she lifted her face to meet my gaze. Her eyes were huge and dark, the hair mussed over her forehead. She looked rumpled and sleepy, and so very desirable. My cock had already risen to attention, throbbing against my jeans. After the shitty night at the tower, this was just what I needed. I wanted to take my time with her, kiss every inch of her skin, find out if it tasted as creamy as it looked. She licked her lips, and I was lost.

Did I have any condoms left
? My mind shot off on a tangent, and I almost missed her next words.

“I need you to contact my mother.”
Her mother?
I wanted to shag Kitten, not ask permission to go on a date… “You’re the only medium I’ve found who might be able to do it. The only one I believe in.”

Oh
. Reality crashed into me like a bucket of icy water. My mouth struggled to form the words I needed. “Your mother’s dead. You don’t need me for, uh, something else?”

“What?” Abruptly, she sat back and disentangled herself from me. “I appreciate the hug, but it doesn’t mean anything else is on offer. You didn’t think…”

Yes
. “Umm.” How could I get out of this without looking like a giant asshole? Hitting on her when she was half asleep. My cock twitched again, it obviously hadn’t got the newsflash yet. I sat on the edge of the bed and hung my head, scratching the back of my neck.
Stupid fucker
. Disappointment a tight ball in my chest. “Go on then, tell me about your mother.”

Chapter

~3~

3.1 Josh

I
taped the final carton shut, across the top and down the sides, then labeled it with a fat, black marker pen.
STORAGE UNIT—china dinner service
. Sitting on the floor, I surveyed the room. Every box and item of furniture bore a proud sticker advising its destination: to storage, to my London apartment or our new weekend cottage in Anglesey. Packing up Suki’s four-bedroom house had taken weeks, but it was finally done and ahead of schedule. The movers weren’t due for another two days. We were both keen to get out of there.

Everything in this house screamed of her late husband. They’d lived here for over five years, until he’d tried to kill her. I’d saved her life, and the resulting accident led to his death. I still felt like pinching myself to wake up, it’d all happened so quickly.

“Coffee, babe?” Suki dropped a tray on top of one of the boxes and sprawled on the rug beside me. “You’ve done brilliantly.” She beamed at my work. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

I pretended to think about it. “I’m not sure. You might have to refresh my memory.”

A slow smile spread over her face. The dimples flashed briefly in her cheeks, while her warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Okay. How about this?” She scrambled onto my lap and pushed me down to lie on the floor while her hands slipped inside my shirt. As her fingers crept up my abdomen, her hair tickled my face and I chuckled.

“Nah, still can’t remember.”

“Does this help?” Deft fingers unbuttoned my shirt. Warm lips pressed against each patch of skin she uncovered, and I shuddered with each kiss. Her mouth inched closer to my jeans. “I love you, Josh Delaney. And we
are
going to be married. Soon.”

I was already hard for her, eager to feel her hands, her mouth, on me, but
not
here. I caught her head with my hands and stilled her movements. “Not now, Suki.” One last kiss against my zipper and my erection protested, but I was adamant. “Not in your house, baby.”

She relented and gave me a hug instead, squeezing me tight as I held her impossibly close. I nuzzled her temple, kissing the little pulse. “I know it’s late, but why don’t we head up to Anglesey now? We can stay at Anita’s, then come back for the movers. It’s only a couple hour’s drive.”

A warm sigh against my throat. “Apart from the fact that it’s almost midnight, we can’t. I’m due at Grayson’s party tomorrow night, and you promised you’d come with me. I can’t miss it.”

Shit
. I’d forgotten about that. “Tell me about him again?”

“Grayson Fitzwarren. Former diplomat, famous for negotiating a peace settlement in Malawi. He’s now a member of parliament and in line for a knighthood, as well as a position in the Cabinet.” She recited his biography rapidly, pausing to draw a quick breath. “But most importantly, he’s the main sponsor of my new daytime show, giving us the opportunity to move to London and leave Manchester behind.”

“He was also friends with your husband.”

“Not friends, as such. Gabe wanted to go into politics after he retired from racing, so we used to see them socially. His wife doesn’t say much, but their daughter’s nice.” She paused, then seemed to pull herself together. “I don’t want to hang around longer than I need to, and I doubt if you’ll know anybody there. So how about we just stay a few hours, schmooze a bit and then get the hell out. Okay?”

It sounded too easy.

3.2 Katherine

I may not have been completely awake, but I still saw the hurt flashing across Dante’s eyes before he turned away. Snuggling into him had been delicious. Our bodies fit together perfectly, but I’d given him completely the wrong idea. I couldn’t let myself get blinded by his tenderness, no matter how good it felt. I sat back on the chair and tucked my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. Dante remained with his back to me. I’m not sure who was more embarrassed.

There was so much I could’ve told him about Mum, but I stuck to the bare facts. “I was twelve. It was a car accident in Manchester, and she died at the scene. Her name was Antonia Fitzwarren, but she called herself Toni. She was only thirty-two.” I took a deep, calming breath. “I’ve tried for years to find a medium who could contact her. Tristan and the others don’t know. They assume my stepmum is my mother.”
And my father prefers it that way.

“Something we have in common.” His voice sounded distant. “I lost my mum when I was a kid.” With a sigh, he turned to face me. “I don’t tell people either. Thanks for looking out for me earlier, Kitten, but I can’t take your bed.”

There were some conversations you could only have in the middle of the night, when it felt as though the whole world was asleep, and this was one of them. I hugged my pillow and spoke hesitantly into the shadows. “Don’t go. How old were you?”

“Are you trying to be my shrink?”

I shook my head. “That’s not my field.”

His eyes held mine. He sat so close I itched to curl up beside him.
No, Katherine.
I tucked my free hand against my chest and waited.

“I was a baby. I don’t even remember her.” He spoke slowly as though the words were dragged out of him.

My heart contracted. “God, I’m sorry. At least I had mine until I was twelve.”

His hand lifted, fingers flexing before he dropped it onto the bed. “It must have been worse for you. You can’t miss what you don’t know.”

I had to ask, but didn’t want to—I was afraid of hearing his answer. “Dante, have you ever been able to contact your mum?”

His foot jiggled, a nervous repetitive tapping at the floor. “No.”

Disappointment surged. If he couldn’t talk to his own mother, how would he find mine?

“It’s not like picking a number out of the directory and making a call.” His mouth twisted. “It’s not an exact science, Kitten. But I’ll do my best for you.”

I let out my breath in a noisy puff. This might be as good as I would get. “Okay, so how do we do it?”

His foot jiggled some more, and he dropped his head. “I have a couple of spirit guides who go searching for people, but it doesn’t always work. They’ve been a bit hard to get hold of. The last couple of days anyway.”

Spirit guides? I had a mental image of an angel with a backpack and walking stick. “Do I sit with you while you, ah, contact them?”

“Normally, I’d say yes. But I’ve no idea when they’re going to turn up, so I’ll ask when I see them.”

It sounded as normal and everyday as him talking to an accountant. “I have to go home tomorrow—there’s a function I have to attend. If I leave you my number, will you let me know?”

Dante must have heard the tremor in my voice. Turning to face me, with a gentleness that made my eyes fill, he carefully tucked a wild strand of hair behind my ear. He spoke earnestly. “I’ll let you know, whatever happens. And there’s another thing we can try, if you can handle it.” His eyes searched my face.

I froze and held my breath.

“If you know where she died, we could try going there.”

Go back there?
I shuddered, my lungs tight. “I, ah, I’m not sure if I…”

“
Kitten.” His voice so soft, so full of pain. His fingers sought my hand, meshed them together. “It’s okay. I’ll be with you. You can do it.” My eyes dropped to our hands, lying entwined between us. I dragged in a shaky breath and drew some strength from him. His gaze held me, grave and serious.

I wanted to believe him, but could I trust him?

3.3 Dante

Sleep continued to elude me. Kitten had dozed off, huddled around her pillow while still holding my hand. I stared at the ceiling. Then I heard my phone chirruping. My usual callers didn’t keep office hours and, again, I missed the call. No voice message, but I had a good idea who it was, and he never left anything as incriminating as a message. My next payment was due in less than a week’s time and I needed to get my arse in gear. The séance money alone would be nowhere near enough.

I awoke to hear the shower running and immediately remembered my dream. The black-winged angel again. What the fuck was that about? I dug deep, but couldn’t recall any more details than last time.

Kitten acted shy and distant around me, our intimacy disappearing with the daylight. I’d barely enough time for a shower before the students rolled up, clattering the doors on their transit van, loud and turbulent as they crossed the yard. Trying to explain last night’s fiasco was the last thing I felt like doing, but they needed to know what happened, and I hoped to have my own gaps filled.

Nan arrived just behind them. She greeted me with a big hug and another peck on the lips. “Don’t you
ever
do that again, you tosser. I was fucking petrified.”

While Kitten made fresh coffee, Nan dragged me outside on the pretext of having a ciggie. I deliberated for all of two seconds and then accepted one of hers. Inhaling deeply, I reminded myself why I smoked roll-ups—not just for the cost—the disgusting taste helped me resist them. Nan’s was smooth and intoxicating in comparison. I luxuriated in the taste and blew a series of perfect smoke rings while she pulled a face.

“Show off,” she muttered, but with a smile to soften her words before placing a hand on my arm. “Were you okay last night?” Nan always tried to maintain her hardcore appearance, but the anxious fingers squeezing my forearm told otherwise.

I nodded. “Yeah, and thanks. Kitten said you set up some protection for me while I was out of it.”

Her eyes narrowed at me. “
Kitten
?”

“
Katherine.” I pulled a funny face and blew another quick ring. “She hates nicknames, so that’s why I gave her one.” As Nan’s eyebrows shot into her forehead, I shook my head and forced a laugh. “I gave her a
nickname
. We didn’t hook up, so take that dirty thought out of your head.”

In reply, Nan slipped her arm around my waist. “Good. I’d hate to have to scratch her eyes out.”

“And why would you do that?”

She sighed and dumped the remains of her cigarette, grinding it beneath her heel. With a little smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she turned and placed a hand on my shoulder. We looked as though we were about to dance. “Let’s face it, Chuckles. She’s so far out of your league, she could be orbiting the frigging planet. I know her type. The best you’d get would be a major head fuck, and I don’t want her to do that to you.” Her fingers tightened, curling into my T-shirt.

She moved closer. I could hear her ragged breathing, feel the tension in her body. “What’s this all about, Nan? You’re acting like you’re jealous or something.” I still held my cigarette, it was too good to waste. One last drag and I stubbed it out.

Nan smiled at me. “Maybe I’m wondering why I’m still bothering with Ash.”

Her bright blue eyes looked innocent, but something was wrong. I’d been friends with Nan for years, but she’d never been possessive before. As I gazed at her, perplexed, she moved, pressing herself even closer.

“Have you ever thought about being with me?” A sensuous whisper that made my head spin. “We could be so good together.”

“Nan, I don’t do relationships. You know that.” I stared at her some more. “What’s got into you?”

“Just think about it, Chuckles.” She rested her face against my chest, and it reminded me with a pang of how Kitten had sought comfort from me last night. I was distinctly uncomfortable with the way this conversation was developing and relieved when Tristan came to call us back into the apartment.

* * * *

I leaned against the wall in Kitten’s lounge, expecting Nan to take a seat. It felt awkward when she stood beside me instead. She’d always been touchy-feely, but today she was exceeding herself. Little brushes against my arm, her hip resting next to mine. Last night’s fuck-up must have really freaked her. Everyone looked at me, expecting me to start the ball rolling, perhaps. I launched straight in. “Do you have the footage from last night? Can I see it?”

Tristan scowled and jabbed a finger at Chaz. “I wish. That pillock wiped it. Every last fucking minute of it.”

Chaz flinched at the words, his face pale and anxious. Lucy, huddled next to him, gave his hand a squeeze and spoke up. It was the first time I’d actually heard her say more than two words. “He doesn’t
know
why he did that. I
told
you.”

I’d missed more than I thought. I stepped forward and clapped my hands for attention. “Hey, guys. Can anyone tell me exactly what happened? Pretend I wasn’t there. I need someone to give it to me, blow-by-blow.”

“I will.” Lucy gazed at me, her brown eyes wary. “I’m the record keeper for this project, so I made copious notes as soon as we finished.” She produced a spiral bound pad and flicked through the pages. “Should I read it all out?”