Vision in Faith (Legends of the North Book 3) (13 page)

The room was quiet after she finished speaking. "Are you…? Does that mean…?" Jess seemed incapable of finishing a sentence, and she continued to stare at Vicky. "You think Satan is behind all the attacks?"

Vicky shook her head. "I'm not saying that because I don't know enough about the other attacks. All I know is that what attacked James, what attacked me, looked like the scary stories I was told as a child about Satan."

Matt suddenly started tapping a piece of paper that was attached to the wall. "Maybe Vicky is right."

She smiled at Matt and replied, "I have been known to be occasionally, but what specifically did you think I was right about?"

"About being scared," he said. "Emma, you're still scared of sheep, aren't you?"

Vicky turned in time to see Emma nod. "Seriously? How did I not know that? Why are you scared of sheep?"

Emma scowled at Matt before shrugging at Vicky. "You never know what they're thinking. They're creepy, the way they just stare at you…" Emma shuddered. "Aren't
you
scared of cats, Matt?"

Vicky clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh. Cats? They were cute and fluffy, not scary.
 

It was Matt's turn to glare at Emma. "Yes, thanks, Emma. I am
wary
of cats, but what attacked us wasn't your average household cat. I think most people would have been scared of
that
cat. But that's what I'm saying, that it seems to play on our fears. I was attacked by a big cat, and when Emma was alone it was disguised as a sheep. Jess and Rob were attacked by a wolf. Are either of you scared of wolves?"

Jess and Rob looked at each other before Rob ran a hand across the back of his neck. "I was once Jess told me about the wolf in her vision that was chasing her in Altenbury Hall."

"And now James and Vicky are attacked by an image of Satan, an image that scared her as a child. It knows our fears, maybe even feeds off them."

James paced the floor then stopped as he faced Matt, hands out by his side. "But how does knowing that help us?"
 

Matt looked around the room at each of them in turn, but no one uttered a word. When his gaze returned to James, he replied with a shrug. "Honestly? I'm not sure, but it's another piece of the puzzle."

Chapter 14

Emma was the last to leave. Giving Vicky a hug, she looked over to where James and Matt were talking quietly by the door.

"The way he looks at you when you're not looking, Vicky…" Emma whispered, placing her hand over her heart.

Vicky followed Emma's gaze as James looked over and smiled at her. That smile had the ability to make her forget anything else existed, but he didn't smile anywhere near enough. Tearing her gaze from his, she turned to face Emma. "How does he look at me?"

"The way a starving man would eye up a steak." Emma laughed but then turned serious. "But when you were describing the attack…" She shuddered and shook her head. "If looks could kill. Give him a chance, Vicky. He needs someone like you."

"What do you mean, someone like me?"

But Emma didn't reply, just gave her another hug before taking Matt's outstretched hand.

Closing the door behind themselves, James and Vicky were left alone in the entrance. The entrance that suddenly seemed too quiet.

"I should get going too."

"You don't have to," James said as he slid his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the door.

"No, but you probably want your house back to yourself."

"Yeah, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" He pushed off the door and stalked towards her. "I thought it was for the best to stay away from you. That I was protecting you. If you hadn't showed up when you did…"

He was standing so close to her she could smell the coffee on his breath from the several cups he'd had earlier that night. Lifting one hand, he wrapped it around her neck with a firm grip. He rested his forehead against hers and said, "I could have died if it hadn't been for you. But the thought of it hurting
you
…"

He let out a strangled sound and then his lips were on hers. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of the blood in her ears. His lips were firm and hot, and his other hand slid around her waist to rest just above her bum. She opened her lips, expecting him to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back instead.

Staring straight into her eyes, he whispered, "Stay. Please." His eyes had darkened to the colour of the sea on a stormy day, but that only made them seem more intense after his quiet words.
 

She nodded; why wouldn't she stay? She didn't want to be alone. There in his arms, she could shut out the rest of the world and her problems didn't seem to matter quite so much. She wasn't quite so scared.

His lips were back on hers, licking over them until she opened and let him inside. And then his tongue stroked against hers as he gripped her bum and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he made his way leisurely upstairs, their lips never parting. Kicking the door closed behind them, Teazle let out a sharp bark to let them know her displeasure at being shut out.

Vicky smiled as James broke their kiss to lay her gently on the bed. He lay over her, bracing himself on his elbows as he brushed her hair back from her face. Emma's words about the way James looked at her came back to Vicky, but the way he was touching her was the complete opposite.

 
Slowly, he removed her clothes until she was just in her underwear, relishing each bit of skin he revealed. Unclasping her bra, he dropped it on the pile of clothes already on the floor. He stared at her for the longest moment before his head dropped and his lips surrounded her nipple.

A moan escaped her as his tongue flicked over her hardened bud again and again. When he grazed his teeth over it, she dug her nails into his back as hers arched off the bed. He gave the same attention to her other nipple before trailing kisses down her stomach until he reached the last piece of clothing in his way. He dragged that scrap of silk down her legs and dropped them on the floor too.

Gently, he kissed his way back up her legs, her inner thighs, and then glanced up at her. He waited until she nodded then dropped his head to kiss her where she needed it the most. He sucked her clit into his mouth and slid one finger inside her. Her fingers twisted in his hair when he added a second finger, his tongue twirling around her clit.

She writhed beneath his touch. "James… Oh, God, I'm so close."

He stopped at her words, making his way back up the bed and placing a quick kiss on her lips before he opened the bedside table. She heard the rustle of foil and then he was stripping his clothes off. She watched as his T-shirt slowly lifted, revealing his tight stomach muscles and the hard planes of his chest.

The sound of his zipper was loud in the quiet room, and she held her breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down in one move. Rolling the condom down his length, he moved quickly back over her, the tip of his cock nudging at her clit as he thrust against her.

Holding himself above her on his elbows, he cradled her head in his hands and softly kissed her. As his tongue pressed inside her mouth, he lined himself up and gently pushed inside her until he was buried as deep as he could.

As he kissed her, she felt him twitch inside her, and she lifted her hips trying to get him to move. Slowly, he pulled out until just his tip remained before pushing all the way back in. He kept up a slow pace and no matter what she did, he wouldn't increase his speed. Then he captured her nipple between his teeth and gently bit it.

"Oh, shit, James." She felt her muscles clamp around him and threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. "Oh, God, James… oh."

She felt his breath on her ear. "Come with me, Vicky."

She couldn't have stopped herself if she had wanted to as she fell apart beneath his touch and words.
 

"Oh, fuck. Yes!" As he shouted the words, he stilled, and she felt him pulse inside her right before he collapsed on top of her with a groan. She wrapped her arms around him, one hand playing with the soft hair at the back of his neck, but then he pulled out of her and disappeared.
 

He came back minutes later and lay on the bed on his back, dragging her across his chest and wrapping an arm around her. She felt his lips on the top of her head and let out a contented sigh. Her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep in his arms.

***

Vicky closed the door to Margaret's salon behind her and grinned. Her gaze turned heavenward, and she whispered, "Thank you." It had been the day from hell, thanks to Margaret, but it was the last day she'd ever have to set foot in that woman's salon.
Hallelujah.

Then reality had to check in because, shit, her salon wasn't anywhere near ready to open yet. She had no income, no chairs, no supplies.
 

I can do this.

 
Squaring her shoulders, she walked slowly home, checking items off her mental to-do list. It was almost August. She wanted to be open by August.
Well, stop getting distracted by things like James's hot body.
The grin returned because that night had been different than the other they'd spent together. And didn't that scare the crap out of her too.

As she turned onto her street, she stopped at the sight of James leaning against her front door, phone in hand.
What is he doing here?
They hadn't arranged to meet. Walking towards him, he didn't notice her as his thumbs hit his screen, slowly typing something out. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth and his hair fell over his forehead, shadowing his eyes.

He was waiting outside her place for
her
. It suddenly seemed much more difficult to breathe and, as what little air was in her lungs left them, she said, "Hey."

His head jerked up and his eyes met hers. Slowly, a smile spread across his face and his gaze wandered down her body. Her body felt like it might combust at any moment and he hadn't even touched her.

"Hey, snips," he said, sliding his phone into his pocket. "I was just texting you."

"You do realise that's a terrible nickname. That
you
give terrible nicknames."

"I disagree. Nicknames are supposed to be affectionate, humorous even. And it makes me smile. But if you don't think it's affectionate, maybe I need to do something about that."

 
He stepped away from the door but before she could get her keys out, his hand was in her hair, the other pulling her hips against his. His nose brushed along hers and then his lips were on hers. Her brain let her body take over as her hands brushed up his chest and around his neck.

"There's a time and place for that type of thing, deary. The street is not it."

Vicky pulled her lips from his and buried her face in his shoulder, trying not to laugh.

"Sorry, Doris," James said, sounding anything but.

***

James laughed as Vicky opened the door and they fell inside what would be her shop. It didn't look much like a salon yet, but it smelled better than the last time he had been there.
 

He wandered around the room, noticing she'd painted the walls and in the corner, propped against the wall, were several boxes of shelves. Was she going to put them up? Wasn't anyone helping her?

He turned to ask her but Vicky was staring at him as she chewed on her bottom lip, her fingers working over the charms on her bracelet. Before he could say anything, he heard a scratching at the door, and she let Teazle in from upstairs.

He bent down to pick her up, scratching behind her ears. Turning back to Vicky, he asked, "You okay?"

She nodded. "I, er… I need to work on the shop. I have so much left to do. I—"

"What can I do to help?"

She stared at him as though he'd just asked her to dye his hair green. Putting Teazle down, he took her hand so she couldn't fiddle with her bracelet. "Vicky?"

"You want to help?"

He kissed her in answer, just a chaste brush of his lips against hers. "Yes. If you want me to. I can put the shelves up, if you'd like?"

She laughed and he frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. "What's so funny about that?"

She stopped laughing and tried to look serious. "Do you know how to put shelves up?"

She doubted his manliness? James reached for her, gripping her arse as he whispered in her ear. "You weren't questioning what my hands were capable of yesterday." He heard her breath hitch and he smiled.

An hour later, he wasn't smiling, but he'd finally put the last shelf up and was mainly unscathed. Grabbing the shelf, he shook it, but it felt sturdy. Vicky was bending over the windowsill, paintbrush in hand, and his smile came back to life, as did his dick when she bent over further.

Shit, he had it bad. He was actually enjoying putting up shelves. When was the last time he'd ever put up a shelf? He joined her at the windowsill, picking up the other paintbrush to help her finish.

The smile she gave him when he did? Well, he'd paint every square inch of her salon if it meant she'd smile at him like that. When she ran her brush across the wood, he scrubbed his hand across his mouth and tried to think of something other than Vicky beneath him.

Wearing just that smile.
 

For him.

Dipping his brush in the paint, he pushed those thoughts away. "What do you know about Amsall Hall?"

When Vicky stopped painting to look at him, he did too, his brush hovering over the tin. "I've never heard of it. Although the name Amsall sounds familiar. Why?"

Wiping the excess paint off his brush, he ran it along the edge between the sill and the window. "I've been researching it. It's the old house opposite where you used to live. It's called Amsall Hall."

She started painting again. "Huh, I never knew that. But maybe that's why it sounds familiar."

"The Amsall family history sounds like mine, but they didn't own as much land, so when the house suffered from water damage because it's so close to the river, the family couldn't afford to repair it. The last family member died, and it was just left to fall into the state it's in now."