Fury of Desire (48 page)

Perched on a stool at the kitchen island, J. J. rapped the end of her pencil against the notepad and frowned at the cake in front of her. The eraser bounced against paper, punishing a curlicue treble clef and the adjoining lines containing a flurry of music notes. Two birds with one stone. Musical composition while baking… a happy accident. One she’d discovered with Daimler’s help. A pastime she would be enjoying, but for one simple thing.

Her design wasn’t working.

Oh, not the song. The melody was taking shape just right, the up-tempo chorus flowing into each verse like a river into the sea. On cue. Perfect rhythm keeping time. No problems on the musical front at all. It was the dragon
cake she worried about. The legs were too fat, the neck too skinny, and the head? Gosh darn it all. The thing looked more like a triangle than the smooth, sculpted contours she wanted. Chewing on her lip, she added another string of notes to the music staff, then dropped the pencil to pick up the baker’s knife. She drummed its tip against the marble countertop. The rat-ta-ta-tat barely registered. She was too busy figuring out where she’d gone wrong.

Not in the actual baking. The white cake looked okay. So no, it couldn’t be that. Tilting her head one way and then the other, she pursed her lips, hoping a different angle would help, but…

No such luck. The head still looked awful.

She scowled at it. Dumb thing. Who knew baking a fancy cake could be so difficult? Not her. Not after decorating the cupcakes had gone so well. Nudging the base, she pushed the notepad aside and turned her crappy-looking dragon full circle, studying it from each side, then glanced at the knife in her hand. Maybe if she scalped it a little more. Trimmed down the body. Reinforced the neck. Added the horns, scales, and spikes with colorful marzipan. J. J. grimaced. Maybe she should just start over. Much as she hated to admit it, that seemed like the best option.

“Frick’n frack,” her sister grumbled. Seated across from her, Tania chewed on the end of her own pencil. A sketch pad bobbing in her other hand, she cursed under her breath. “It still doesn’t look right.”

“Join the club.”

Startled from her own creative dilemma, Tania’s head came up. “What?”

J. J. poked the dragon head with the tip of her knife. “Well, just look at it. Catastrophe central. It looks like something out of a bad horror flick.”

Tania snorted in laughter. “The neck’s too skinny.”

“Thanks for the news flash,” she muttered, tossing her sister a perturbed look. Tania grinned. J. J. rolled her eyes. Ah, snap… she might as well admit it. She’d bitten off more than she could chew. And with Daimler out of the lair—off on some secret mission for Wick—she didn’t have a chance in hell of heading the baking disaster off at the pass. “What’s your problem?”

“The waterfall.”

J. J. raised a brow.

With a sigh, her sister flipped the sketch pad in her direction. J. J. blinked. Wow. Get a load of that. The three dimensional drawing practically leapt off the page, depicting a moonlit lagoon surrounded by lush forest and smooth stone. Staring at the picture, Tania shook her head. “I want the water to flow down the rock face and into the pool, but… I don’t know… the perspective’s off or something. I can’t figure out why it’s not working.”

“You got me.” Eyes narrowed, J. J. studied the design. “I don’t know the first thing about—”

A warm tingle swept over the nape of her neck.

She drew in a soft breath as the soft sensation buzzed down her spine. Well, well, well, it was about time. Wick was headed her way, and after pulling a disappearing act all afternoon? She was ready to see him. Ready to ask him again too: poke, prod, beg, borrow, and plead for a clue. He was up to something. She felt it in her bones. Saw it in the knowing gleam in his eyes. Smelled it on him too. But the cherry
on top… the proof in her pudding? He’d been AWOL from lunch until dinner for the last three days.

Along with the other Nightfury warriors.

Suspicious much? Uh-huh. Beyond mysterious, a puzzle worth solving.

Anticipation running hot, J. J. slid off the stool. As her bare feet touched warm tile, she glanced at her sister. “See yah.”

“Rah, rah, sis-boom-bah,” Tania said, mischief in her eyes. “Go get him, tiger.”

Laughing, J. J. rounded the end of the island. All her senses locked on Wick, she turned into the corridor and… oh man. There he was, halfway down the hallway, looking good enough to eat as his long legs carried him forward. Getting a move on, she walked toward him, heart pounding, body humming, her desire for him rising like a heat wave. Golden eyes shimmering, a slow grin spread across his face. Her stomach flip-flopped. A buzz of happiness followed. God, she loved it when he looked at her that way: with a hunger born of passion and need, and so much love it took her breath away.

“Hey,” she said, getting up close and personal as she stepped into him. Hard muscle rippled as he wrapped his arms around her. Hmm, he always smelled so darn good, like wood smoke and male spice. Breathing him in, she pressed a kiss to his T-shirt-clad chest and, tipping her chin, offered him her mouth. He didn’t hesitate. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against hers. She smiled against his mouth, running her hands down his back, loving the feel of him, then got back on track. Curiosity demanded an answer, and she wanted to know. “So, you gonna tell me now?”

He shook his head. “How about I show you instead?”

Oh, yes, please. Especially if the
showing
included getting horizontal with him in bed. “Where we going?”

Wick didn’t answer. He grabbed her hand instead and, lacing their fingers together, led her down the corridor. Away from her sister and the kitchen. Past the bedroom J. J. now shared with him. The thump of his boots sounding loud in the quiet, she followed without question. Where to… where to? The question heightened her anticipation until she couldn’t stand it.

She wanted to know. Right now.

All part of his plan, she knew.

Sneak that he was, Wick had played her to perfection, letting her know something was up without giving the game away. He’d even shut her down in the mental sphere, refusing to allow her to read him via the bond they shared. Which, naturally, sent her need to know into orbit. Grinning like an idiot, she wrapped both of her hands around his and hopped like an excited five year old. She couldn’t help it. Whatever he had planned must be big. Huger than huge, ’cause…

He stopped in front of a set of double doors. Eyes alight with anticipation, he met her gaze. “Ready?”

So eager her voice vanished, she squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Close your eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, J. J. obeyed. He shifted beside her. The doorknob clicked, the soft snick echoing inside her head. With a gentle tug, Wick drew her forward, guiding her over the threshold, walking her deep into the room. It felt large, open concept, high ceilinged, more like a living area than a bedroom. The smell of fresh paint hung in the air too, along with a hint of sawdust. But the floor felt
smooth, like hardwood and… oh, wait. Soft fringe touched her bare toes. She’d just stepped onto an area rug, a big one judging by the distance she traveled before Wick stopped walking.

Untangling their fingers, he released her hand.

J. J. squirmed, curling her toes into plush carpet. “Now?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his mouth brushing the side of her throat. A shiver erupted, raising goose bumps on her skin as he nipped the shell of her ear. “Now. Open your eyes, Jamison.”

She did and…

Holy God. J. J. blinked. A baby grand piano. A freaking
baby grand piano
sat across the room. Glossy black paint shining. Ivory-white keys glowing. Padded bench seat calling her name. And beside it, standing proud in a guitar stand, a brand new Bedell… honey-colored wood gleaming in the low light. Disbelief warred with overwhelming emotion. Without mercy, it punched through to grab her heart, squeezing so hard she struggled to breathe. Her hands started to shake. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision, making her throat close, kicking shock up a notch.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. It was too much. Way too much. The most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Beyond anything she could’ve imagined for herself.

“Oh, Wick,” she whispered, so overwhelmed she didn’t know what to do. Sit down and cry like a baby. Or hug Wick so hard she’d crack his ribs. “Oh my God. You… I… it’s…”

“How’d I do?”

“I can’t… I don’t even know how to…” A rasp in her voice, J. J. struggled to answer. She shook her head, knowing she needed to give Wick his due, but… God. His gift stunned her into stupidity. A music room. Beautiful,
crazy man. He’d built her a music room. A place for her to compose. A spot designed for play. A space all her own. Gratitude collided with appreciation, looping around her heart, combining with her love for him. A sob lodged in her throat, J. J. dragged her gaze away from the Bedell and turned toward him. He stood a few feet away, golden eyes intent, watching, waiting… no doubt wondering if she liked his gift. “It’s phenomenal. Beyond gorgeous. I love it. You’re just… crazy incredible.”

Pleasure sparked in his eyes a second before his mouth curved.

More tears fell, and unable to stay away a second longer, J. J. reached for him. Bridging the distance, he moved in tight and hugged her close, making her feel precious. Amazing… in every sense of the word. No one had ever made her feel important—cherished, needed, worthy of this kind of attention. No one except Wick, and as she pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to his heartbeat, she understood, for the first time, what true love meant.

“Thank you,” she said, her tears soaking through his T-shirt. “The words will never be enough, but… thank you, Wick. Thank you so very much.”

With a hum, he kissed the top of her head. “I have another gift.”

“Oh jeez,” she said with a sniffle. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed, flashing straight white teeth, and pivoted with her in his arms. Slow dancing with her, he twirled her in lazy circles across the room and into a seating area. One she hadn’t noticed until now. Totally understandable. She’d been too busy staring at the piano and her new guitar to notice anything else, but as Wick sat her on the couch, her
power of observation came back on line. A present—a big one with a floppy red bow—sat on the coffee table. Wick slid onto the sofa next to her, his hard-bodied, long-limbed frame depressing the seat cushions.

Over the initial shock of the baby grand, curiosity got the better of her. Her gaze cut to his. She raised a brow.

Arms flung along the back of the sofa, Wick settled in to watch her. He tipped his chin. “Open it.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“A mate’s prerogative.”

Pleasure shivered through her.
Mate.
Oh, how she liked the sound of that, and as she broke eye contact and slid to the edge of her seat, she wanted to forget about the gift. Postpone it until later and make love to him instead. Glancing over her shoulder, she treated him to a saucy look. Heat sparked in his gaze. She licked over her bottom lip. Wick shook his head and pointed to the present.

“Okay, okay.” Grabbing the gift, J. J. dragged the tall box across the tabletop. “Better get ready, though, ’cause afterward, you’re gonna pay for making me wait.”

“Deal.”

Undoing the bow, J. J. flipped the top off and, peering over the edge, peeked inside. She froze. Good lord. It couldn’t be. No way would he—

Her present moved.

J. J.’s mouth fell open. Shock expanded. All thought vanished. Complete and utter adoration replaced it.

“Oh my goodness, Wick… you didn’t,” she whispered, disbelieving even as she reached inside and lifted her gift from the box. White with gray markings, the puppy stared at her, dark-brown eyes solemn, black button nose inches from her own. Speechless, J. J. stared back. Good heavens, a
dog… and not just any breed either, but a perfect, pudgy-nosed baby bulldog. “You just didn’t.”

“Seems I did.” Focus absolute, he took in every nuance of her expression. “Do you like her?”

“Do I… holy moly, no.
Like
doesn’t even come close. I
love
her.” Another round of tears rolled over her lashes. A music room and a puppy. All on the same day. Totally surreal. So completely unexpected, J. J. couldn’t wrap her brain around it. But as she hugged her new dog and looked at Wick, the truth finally hit home. This was her life now.
He
was her life. She belonged to the most incredible, generous, gorgeous man in the world, and he to her. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Words,
vanz
ä
la,
” he said, a growl in his voice. The dark tone hinted of amatory afternoons and untold naughtiness. Desire spiraled on an incendiary swirl, making her toes curl. “Show me instead.”

With a “hell, yeah,” J. J. rose to the challenge and set the puppy down beside the couch. Nose to the floor, the little darling went exploring, and she didn’t hesitate. She slipped into Wick’s embrace, buried her hands in his hair, and kissed him deep, knowing she would never get enough of him. So lucky. Despite her mistakes. Despite a rocky past and rough start. Despite all the guilt and heartache. Fate smiled down on her, granting her the one thing she hadn’t known she couldn’t do without…