Edge of Passion (6 page)

His eyes fell back on those curves she so innocently flaunted right in front of him without even knowing what she was doing. Would she reign in those swinging hips if she knew the effect those movements had on him? Or would she continue taunting him with her sinful body? Because taunting she was.

A flash of light suddenly made him jerk his head away from her backside. With horror, he witnessed a car barreling toward her at the intersection she’d just reached. About to step into the crosswalk that showed a ‘go’ signal for her, Leila jolted backwards but her heel caught in a storm drain.

Aiden lunged forward, grabbed hold of her and yanked her out of the path of the out-of-control vehicle. Losing his balance, he tumbled onto the sidewalk, rolling into the doorway of a shop with Leila in his arms. His heart hammered in his chest, and his instinct kicked in, uncloaking him in a split second. Her surprised cry was muffled against his coat.

“Are you okay?” he managed to say as he caught his breath and tried to sit up without releasing her.

This incident clearly counted as an emergency, and revealing himself to her was therefore necessary. It didn’t mean she had to know who he was. She would never need to find out that he wasn’t human, and that he possessed powers that would scare the living daylights out of her. It was best for her not to know, because he didn’t know how she would react.

She seemed dazed and made no attempt to free herself from his embrace. Her body so close to his felt intoxicating. She smelled like a ripe fruit ready to harvest, her curves exhibiting the perfect combination of yielding softness and firmness that stood its ground. He savored the moment, knowing that once she’d recovered, she would push him away. After all, he was a stranger, it was dark, and there were few other people around. Instinct would tell her to be cautious, despite the fact that he’d saved her from being run over by a car.

Aiden glanced toward the intersection, but the car hadn’t even stopped. A drunk driver, most likely. Nevertheless, he couldn’t shake off the thought that this was no coincidence. He’d long stopped believing in things happening at random.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, her hand pushing against him to steady herself.

As she managed to sit up and lift her head, she looked at him, assessing him as if to figure out if he could be trusted.

“Thank you. I didn’t see … the car ran a red light.”

He nodded. “I’m glad I was there.”

“I didn’t see you,” she said, her voice a hotbed of caution as she eased farther away from him now. “There was nobody behind me. I would have heard you.”

Perceptive human. “I was just crossing from over there. The car’s headlights probably blinded you, so you didn’t see me.”

He rose slowly and reached a hand out to her.

Leila gave him a doubtful look. “Thank you.” She made a motion to get up, declining his hand, but the moment her right leg touched the ground, her knee buckled and she cried out in pain.

Aiden didn’t hesitate and supported her by putting an arm around her waist, making her lean against him. Heat from her body seeped into his, igniting his cells instantly.

“Brace yourself on my shoulders,” he instructed as he crouched down. Her elegant hands dug into his shoulders.

He reached for her foot. “I’m going to check if it’s broken, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

Slowly, he stroked his hands over her ankle and tested her range of motion. She winced immediately.

“Ouch!”

“I’m sorry. It’ll be just a second,” he assured her as he allowed his supernatural senses to penetrate her skin and reach to the bone. It was intact. There was no break, merely a sprain. Relieved, he exhaled. “It’s not broken.”

“How do you know? Are you a doctor?” Leila looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

Aiden released her foot and rose, making sure he kept supporting her weight. “No, I’m not a doctor. But your ankle is just sprained. You’re very lucky.”

“Thank you again.”

“You should put some ice on it right away.”

“I’ll do that when I get home.”

“No, I mean right now. Even a half hour delay can make it worse.” He pointed toward the end of the block where the lights of an Irish Pub flickered invitingly. “They should have some ice down there.”

What the fuck was he doing? He shouldn’t engage any more with her than he already had. If he were smart, he’d leave her now. But apparently tonight his mind was occupied with other things, lust being one of them, the inexplicable need to get to know her being another.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll just get a cab to take me home.”

He glanced up and down the street. “You won’t find a cab around here this time of night. We can call one from the pub—after you’ve put some ice on your ankle.”

And thanked your rescuer.

He could vividly imagine what kind of thanks he’d prefer: a kiss from those pert lips. Why did he suddenly want that when he knew he should stay away from her?

“Okay, I think I can walk that far,” Leila finally conceded.

“Walk?” He shook his head. Not as long as he was here to lend a hand. “I don’t think you should walk.”

Ignoring her protest, he lifted her into this arms and strode toward the pub.

“But …”

When he looked into her ocean blue eyes, her eyelids suddenly fluttered, and she lowered them quickly. Color flushed her cheeks.

With every step, her body rubbed against his, and despite the clothing that separated them, he felt a rush of excitement course through him. The contact was intense and real, the payoff torturing, as the bulge in his jeans could attest.

He noticed how she studied his neck and the muscles that flexed underneath his tight tee. It seemed she didn’t want to lift her eyes to peruse his face so openly. Not that he would mind being studied by her. Hell, there wasn’t anything he could think of right now that he would mind her doing.

With his foot, Aiden pushed the door to the pub open and was glad to see that it was half empty. Ignoring the inquisitive stares of the few patrons, he lowered Leila to a bench next to the window and lifted her leg onto it.

“Stay here, I’ll get some ice,” he instructed and went to the bar.

The bartender looked first at Aiden, then past him. “Something wrong?”

“My friend twisted her ankle. Could you spare some crushed ice and a clean dish towel?” he asked and put a twenty on the counter. “And two Jamesons, neat.”

“Yep, women and their heels,” he responded and took a towel from behind him, filling it with ice.

“Her heels weren’t to blame. A car ran a red light and nearly killed her.” He shuddered as the words left his lips.

“Fuckin’ drunk drivers,” the bartender hissed. “Tell ya one thing, when I see one of my regulars having too much, I confiscate their car keys. Don’t care how much they curse me for it.” He handed him the towel. “Here. I’ll bring the Jamesons to your table.”

“Thanks.”

Aiden took the ice-filled towel and walked back to his charge who was sitting up straight, leaning against the wood-paneled wall, her leg stretched out over the bench. He sat down at her feet.

“This should make you feel much better soon.”

He rolled the towel into a long tube and snaked it around her ankle, tying it at the ends so it held in place. When he looked up, he collided with her gaze.

“You’ve done this before,” she approved.

He smiled. “I used to get into a lot of scraps when I was younger.”

Cloak Warrior children didn’t heal automatically like adult Cloak Warriors did. They needed to be tended in the same way human children did. They were, however, immune to human diseases such as measles and mumps, but broken bones, cuts and bruises would leave their mark the same way they did on mortal children.

“Here are your two Jamesons, neat,” the bartender announced and set two glasses with amber liquid on the small table next to them. “Cheers.”

Aiden nodded to him then looked back at Leila, motioning toward the whiskey. “To wash away the shock.”

SIX

Leila took the glass her rescuer handed her and hesitated. Was this a wise decision? She was a lightweight when it came to liquor, and this man was a complete stranger.
A very handsome stranger
, she corrected. One who had saved her life by the looks of it. Had he not pushed her out of the way so quickly, the car would have hit her full on and she would have been tomorrow’s headline.
Promising Researcher Killed in Hit-And-Run Accident
. She shuddered inwardly.

Maybe she did need a drink now that reality hit home.

“My name is Aiden,” the hottie said. A name that suited him.

“Leila.”

He clinked his glass to hers. “Shall we drink to good luck, Leila?”

“To good luck.” She sipped from the whiskey. As it made its way down her throat, her skin began to burn, but it wasn’t unpleasant enough for her to regret it. Warmth spread in her body, making her instantly feel better despite her throbbing ankle.

When she bent toward the table to set her glass down, Aiden took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers in the process. She caught him looking at her at the same time. His gaze was intense, his dark eyes seeming even darker than when he’d returned from the bar with the towel in hand. Odd, how a person’s eye color could change like that.

At the same time, she was unable to break the contact. Her mouth went dry as her gaze fell onto his parted lips. She’d never felt so aware of another person. He was right there, yet too far away to touch him, while he could put his hand on her leg at any time if he wanted to. Would he? She shook off the errant thought. What was wrong with her? Clearly, the shock of nearly being run over by a car had scrambled her mind. Otherwise why would she suddenly fantasize about kissing a stranger?

And why was her heart beating faster, her chest heaving and her tongue snaking out to moisten her dry lips? As if anticipating a mouthwatering treat. Her stomach clenched in concert with her breaths, likewise expecting something delicious. Her palms felt sweaty, but she refrained from wiping them on her pants, not wanting to draw attention to their traitorous state. If she didn’t know any better she’d say she was behaving like a high school girl who’d just seen the quarterback of her football team stepping out of the locker room in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

Aiden was fully dressed, yet he had the same effect on her. Her reaction to him was unusual for her. She’d never been one to see any appeal in a one-night stand, but with this man, she would throw caution to the wind, just the once.

“Thank you again,” she said quickly, not wanting the silence between them to stretch even longer and turn to awkwardness. It was bad enough that she was drooling all over him. As if she’d never been out with a handsome man.

Handsome? Make that sinfully gorgeous
, she amended.

His dark hair was short and straight. By the looks of it, it was thick, and she was sure she could confirm her assumption if only she could thread her fingers through it. Maybe at the same time, she could test how soft his lips were and what it felt like to rub her fingers over the scar above his brow or over the stubbles that graced his chin.

“It looks like you’re getting your color back.”

He glanced at her cheeks, and she realized how flushed she felt. Was she blushing? At her age, she should be past such sophomoric reactions, but a quick peek to catch her reflection in the window revealed that her face looked indeed a little red.

She found a scapegoat very quickly and had no problem passing blame. “The whiskey.” Leila pointed to the glass on the table. “I’m not used to it.”

“I should have asked you if you wanted something else, but considering the shock you had, I figured whiskey would do the trick. Always helps me.” Aiden took a sip from his glass, clearly savoring the taste before swallowing.

“Yes, the shock,” Leila agreed hastily.

Her hand was still shaking when she smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear that had loosened from her ponytail, but she already felt better. The ice had a numbing effect on her ankle. Unfortunately, the handsomeness of her companion had reduced her brain’s speech center to producing only simple, short sentences. She couldn’t allow this to continue. It was ridiculous. She was a doctor, an intelligent woman and more than capable of speaking to a handsome man in complex sentences. She just had to pull herself together, be her usual confident self again.

“I was working late,” she mumbled then cleared her throat to lend her voice more strength. It worked. “Well, I work late most nights.” What else would she do? She had practically no social life.

“You shouldn’t walk home alone at night. There are all kinds of things that can happen.”

She shrugged. “I was only walking the few blocks to the subway.”

“The next subway is five blocks from here—five
long and pretty deserted
blocks, if I may add.” He clicked his tongue. “That’s risky.”

“I’m not worried. I’m armed.” She’d grown up in the city and knew to be prepared.

He raised a surprised eyebrow. “Gun?”

She dug into her shoulder bag and pulled out her weapon of choice, waving it triumphantly. “Mace.”

But Aiden seemed unimpressed. “You know how easy it is for a man who knows what he’s doing to rip this out of your hand and use it against you?”

She waved him off. “I know how to use it.” She’d been carrying the spray for years.

“Do you?” There was an odd glint in his eyes when he made a sudden movement. Before she could react, he snatched the mace out of her hand and held it up.

Shock coursed through her, and from the corner of her eye she saw the bartender stop in mid-movement. A sense of panic gripped her even though there were other people in the bar.

“See?” Aiden asked. “See how easy it was for me to disarm you?”

Her heart still pounding, she stared at him with widened eyes. This had not been on her predictability list. “But ... but I wasn’t prepared in here. We’re in a bar.”

He shook his head and placed the can of mace back in her hand. “It can happen anywhere. You’ll always have to be prepared.”