Seducing Destiny (Brothers of Fate Book 2)

Seducing Destiny

Brothers of Fate #2

Allyson Lindt

This book is a work of fiction.

While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Allyson Lindt

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Acelette Press

The vengeance of the gods has ripped love from Blake three times. He’s not making the mistake of falling for a mortal again. He’s shelved his personal life and dedicated the rest of eternity to making sure those individuals with a destiny are able to fulfill it. When he meets Luci, memories of his past surge back to haunt him, and when a goddess from another pantheon tries to kill her, he's forced to admit fate may not be done with him yet.

 Denying his attraction to Luci is anything but physical, Blake's racing against time and doing everything in his power to figure out why the gods want her dead and to keep history from repeating itself.

Courting Mortality (Brothers of Fate #1)

For my eternal dragon

The world is yours, as you search for her soul

No lover shall bind you to the land

The one you discover, who quiets your might,

Will bring your journey to an end

Blake stepped into the local coffee shop the hotel concierge had recommended, and breathed in the heady scent of espresso roast. Thank the ancestors he wasn’t one of those gods who didn’t get to experience the effects of caffeine and alcohol.

The landscape inside was familiar, even though he’d never been in the place. A glass case, only half full of pastries; eclectic furniture; a gaggle of people in suits, waiting for their drinks and more concerned about their phones then their surroundings—

Hello
,
there. His gaze lingered on the woman at the front of the line. Her slacks and matching jacket hugged generous curves, the clothes not too snug but not so loose her figure was obliterated. Styles and fashions changed as the decades and centuries passed. Some for the better, while he wasn’t so fond of others. However, a sensual woman with a Renaissance body always made his blood roar.

The way she worried her bottom lip, chewing on the plump swell, erased his dread about the looming interviews and sent desire rolling over his skin. No glow surrounded her, so she was mortal. Not that it mattered; he only wanted a distraction for the next night or two, while he was in town. She’d be a pleasant contrast to the dragging nation-wide tour that had been his last two weeks.

He stepped up next to her. The faint scent of plum and mint greeted him, carrying mental images of her joining him in the bathroom. Him lifting her onto the sink. Cupping that full ass. Finding out what her mouth felt like. He stowed the fantasy and flashed her a winning smile. “May I buy you a drink?”

In heels, she was only a few inches shorter than his six-two. She looked up, eyes wide, and his breath caught at the hazel pools staring back at him. Déjà vu scurried through his veins, overlapping the present with a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. Flickers of sensation danced over his body. Lips pressed together. Bare skin gliding against his. Heat, and heavy breathing, and passion. He mentally shook aside the sensation.

She looked over her shoulder, and then back at him. “You’re talking to me?”

Amusement joined his swelling lust. “I am.”

She looked around again. “You’re sure?”

The next register opened up, and she stepped forward and placed her order. He handed his credit card to the cashier. “This is together. Give me a large house roast.”

“No, it’s not together.” The woman handed over her money. The cashier looked between the two for a moment, and then totaled out the first purchase before ringing up Blake’s. The attractive businesswoman gave him an unapologetic shrug and set her laptop bag on a nearby table. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. You know this is a coffee shop, not a bar, right?”

He leaned against the chair next to her. She was an entertaining combination of unsure and confident, which did more to wake him up than the coffee would. Some gods had the ability to influence those around them—to change someone’s mind with sheer will. His gifts tended more toward weather control and keeping his counterparts from performing tricks, but he didn’t mind. The journey was as much fun as the destination for him. “I don’t see why mornings should be left out, just because it’s not happy hour yet. But if a bar is what it takes, can I buy you a drink tonight?”

She pursed her lips, but the corners of her mouth twitched, a smile threatening to destroy her stern expression. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“You’re making this difficult for me.” He wasn’t annoyed. In fact, he’d rather stay here the rest of the morning, instead of making his meetings. “What do I have to do, to get your number?”

Her brows rose. “You could ask? Or come up with a corny line. I suppose there are a lot of options.”

“Would any of them work?”

She took her drink from an employee and set it on the table next to her bag. He grabbed his as well. Pink dotted her cheeks, and her pupils were dilated.  “Probably not. But I’m enjoying your efforts,” she said.

Too bad. It would have been fun to find out what she sounded like when she was turned on. He didn’t have time to keep up the game, though. His first interview was in fifteen minutes, and he still had to walk back to the hotel. He extended his hand. “I’m Blake, by the way.”

“Luci.”

Two hundred years ago, or even one-hundred, he would have kissed her fingertips and bowed. He settled for focusing on her warm grip when her palm rested against his. Another shock of recognition spilled through him. An image from centuries ago, of a woman in a kimono, black hair flowing around her shoulders. He stowed both the memory, and the pang of longing it dragged with it.

He gave Luci a brief nod. “Thank you for keeping me company this morning, Luci. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

She furrowed her brow and studied him for a moment, before stepping back. “Same. Nice to meet you, Blake.”

For a moment, when her hand drifted to her bag before snapping back, he thought she was going to hand him her number after all. He was pushy by nature, but he knew when he’d been shot down, and he as a rule he never had to beg. He resisted the desire to glance at her one last time as he strode out the front door. It would have been fun to actually get her information, but it still would have just been a fling, and he could grab one of those somewhere else. A tiny whisper told him it wouldn’t be the same, and he shoved the nagging aside.

He stepped onto the street, and pinpricks of electric sparks singed his thoughts, yanking his attention from Luci. Another god was nearby. Caution surged through him. It was an eerily familiar aura. Even before his brain registered a name, his muscles tensed, and his gut churned.

Another zing flooded his head. He scanned the area, and his gaze landed on a woman across the street. Morrigan. Her eyes were so pale, it was evident even with the morning sun casting her in silhouette. She looked up at Blake, smirked, and then faded from sight. The crowds milled in to fill the empty spot, no one even flinching that a woman had just vanished before their eyes. Morrigan being here definitely meant something. But was it fuck-me bad, or was it maybe-he’d-finally-get-his-hands-on-her-long-enough-to-obliterate-her good?

****

Luci shut her laptop and blew her bangs out of her eyes. So much for getting a little work done before her interview. Normally, she would have worked from home that morning, and then made the hour drive for her appointment. With construction going on, she hadn’t trusted travel time. She decided to work in the coffee shop down the street for a few hours, before walking to her meeting spot.

That had been the plan, anyway. The reality was, for the last two hours, her mind repeatedly drifted back to Blake, and not just the eerily comforting sensation of déjà vu that washed over her when they shook hands. She’d almost said his name before he did, but it would have come out Blaine, not Blake, and she had no idea why. Tall, blond… holy hell, she wanted to find out of his chest was as solid under that shirt as it looked. She’d been about two high-speed heartbeats away from giving him her number.

Reality had crashed back in before she made that mistake, though. Gorgeous guys weren’t interested in chubby girls unless they wanted something they couldn’t get anywhere else. Blake almost screamed, ‘I’m hiding secrets.’ He was too much like her ex. She wasn’t making that mistake again, and not just because she couldn’t foot the legal bill. Emotional attachment was a luxury she could live without.

She stepped into the hotel lobby, where her appointment was taking place, and approached the front desk. “I’m looking for Mr. Ugagnkin.” Her tongue stumbled over the combination of letters. At least she knew she was pronouncing it right. She’d made his assistant repeat it, to make sure she got it right. She’d tried several times to hint she’d like his first name, but it hadn’t been forthcoming.

“He asked that people wait for him over there.” Reception nodded at a cluster of chairs across the room. “He’ll be with you soon.”

“Thank you.” Luci had to perch on the edge of the seat to keep from sinking into it and wrinkling her suit. This entire job setup sent a weird vibe through her. Each individual piece was okay on its own. The company was in another city but was hiring contractors nationally, to telecommute, with zero in-office hours. Her interviewer was talking to people in a hotel lobby, because his in-town office reservation had fallen through at the last minute. The pay-scale was at the top end of the industry standard, and she’d been told she would never talk to anyone or need their contact information, during this project, except her direct supervisor or his assistant. All her requirements, changes, and quality-assurance results would flow through Mr. Ugagnkin.

Putting all the components together made her think someone was hiding something. Finding a new contract had been slow going, though, and the pay was good, so she’d stashed her reservations at least until she could talk to this Ugagnkin guy.

The minutes ticked away. She glanced at her phone. Her appointment was almost half an hour ago. This was ridiculous.

“Luci?” A tenor she’d heard before cut through her rambling thoughts and squeezed her pulse back to its high-speed trot from earlier. She looked up to see Blake a few feet away. He looked even better than he had this morning. That wasn’t fair. “Lucinda Tansey?”

And he knew her full name. That should have her concerned. Unless... Crap. She’d been hit on earlier by her possibly new employer, and she still fantasized about being pinned under that sturdy frame. She pasted on a smile. “Hello?”

“I’m Blake Ugagnkin. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. The last interview ran over.”

Of course it was him. She struggled to push aside the vivid images in her head—him stripping off her clothes a piece at a time, her dropping to her knees and dragging down his zipper—and failed spectacularly. She stood, used smoothing out her suit as an excuse to wipe off her palms, and shook his hand.

The moment she touched him, a flash of images raced through her head. Memories of a dream she’d had most of her life, except this time the other person had a face. Blake’s. She wore a kimono, and he stood behind her, untying the pieces one by one and draping them to the side. Sliding the silk down her shoulders.

She pushed the thoughts aside and steadied herself in the now. “No worries. I guess that means you have my number after all.” Why had she said that? She hid her cringe. “I mean, I’ve got time.”

His hand lingered in hers, as he studied her face and then shook his head. “I should make it clear what happened this morning doesn’t impact this at all. I hope it won’t color your decision, if we decide to make you an offer.”

If they were going to be working in the same office, he’d definitely have her leaning toward a yes answer. She forced the thought aside—not an easy feat, given the weight of his gaze raking over her. “Of course. The past is in the past,” she said.

Except for maybe the occasional after-hours fantasy.