WB (20 page)

His abrupt change of subject had me turning to look at him. His shoulders were hunched a little and he had a wary expression on his face and I had the feeling if I turned him down for dinner he would turn back into an angry beast.

“Okay, but not anywhere fancy, these are the only clothes I have.”

My pants were dirty and wrinkled, the same as my shirt. But I was sure I could clean up a bit before heading out, maybe there was a store nearby that I could stop at to pick out a few things. A couple pairs of socks and panties would be good until I could get back to my place to pack a change of clothes.

Before I could ask him about the possibilities, he said, “I brought your clothes with me from England, they're upstairs in the master bedroom.”

I gave him an annoyed look at that reminder of my harried and stressful trip from London to Portland. I was still pretty mad at him about that and it took all my self control to keep from snapping at him again.

In the bedroom later, I stood in front of the closet trying to decide what to wear.

Obviously, the emerald evening dress was way over the top I thought, holding the beautiful dress up and swaying gently in front of the mirror before putting the dress back into the closet. But the pants seemed too office casual for dinner.

Then again, I didn't want him to get any ideas, perhaps a businesslike look would be best.

Damn, I never spent this much time thinking about clothes. For a moment, I was struck by the absurdity of making a wardrobe choice for dinner with a warlock.

Not only a warlock, but my fiancé from birth if my family's antiquated thoughts on the subject were taken seriously. What was I doing? If I had any sense at all I would open the window, shimmy down the drain pipe and run off into the balmy Oregon night.

But, the thought of flying chairs and exploding doors stopped me as I started to turn for the window. I didn't want to leave and not just because of my out of control witchcraft. I liked Gage. That is to say I liked him most of the time, he was smart, handsome, funny and fascinating, I wanted to know all about him and I wanted him to like me. He was demanding, arrogant, pushy and downright infuriating too.

After all the years I spent watching him in my dreams I felt like I knew him already, like reuniting with an old friend. I knew he preferred coffee to tea. He watched soccer and read WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 80

mysteries. He was a nice boss, who never yelled at or berated his employees. He listened to rock music and sang out of key to his favorite songs.

I also knew some pretty intimate details about him and not just from the sex on the beach we shared not more than an hour past. He slept naked, sprawled out on his belly and always woke up with a huge erection. He made sure his lovers came before satisfying himself and he was pretty inventive when it came to sex.

There was still a lot I didn’t know, like what he really thought of me.

I squirmed at the thought of what we had done on the beach. To say I had never done something like that before was a given, I mean in all my fantasies, and believe me, I had a few, I never imagined I would have sex with someone I had known less than a week.

Although, technically, I'd known him a lot longer, I just didn't know that I knew him or that he knew me, er, it was getting to be a real muddle. This entire week was one surprise after another.

After a quick shower and an even quicker hair style job, I was ready to get dressed. In the end, I settled on the red silk skirt with a matching blouse, a mandarin collar jacket and soft leather slippers that felt like they were made for me.

I walked down the stairs enjoying the feel of the silk brushing against my legs with each step. Gage was waiting for me at the bottom. For a moment I stared, his hair glowed in the dim light and he was tall and broad shouldered enough to make the cover of an erotic romance novel.

His head turned with a jerk as if he felt my stare and with an inward quake I met his piercing gray eyes and watched as a satisfied look replaced the grim expression that had fleetingly been there.

He had high, aristocratic cheekbones and a long, almost hawkish nose, with skin that was freckle free and had no dimples or softness to lessen the look of a Viking prince of old. But when he smiled he seemed younger and more approachable.

My hand lifted to pat my wildly curling hair back into the neat chignon I had pinned it up in. My hair had long been the bane of my existence, it was too curly and if I didn't keep it's length at my shoulders I ended up with a huge bouffant hairdo that would make Tina Turner blanch with fear.

With a smile, he tucked my arm under his and we strode out from the house to the waiting car. I had to admit that I could get used to the limousine, but the ever present body guards were wearing on my nerves.

I looked back and saw headlights following closely behind. “How many bodyguards do you have?”

“Just six, only three of them are coming with us tonight,” he said absently, his hand was rubbing lightly on the inside of my wrist and I gasped as he pressed a sensitive spot on the middle of my palm.

He smiled at my response and leaned in for a kiss. His hands were warm as he slid them under the collar of my jacket and rubbed lightly at the nape of my neck. The kiss was all sliding tongues and nibbling lips and I could feel heat spreading from my lips down to the bruised petals of my sex making me squirm and tighten in response.

With a gasp I felt his hand on my thigh and it was moving up towards the apex of my legs. With a sob I tore away from his mouth and placed my hand on his to stop him, “No, not in the car Gage, the driver might see us!”

He smiled in a devilish way and leaned forward again to kiss me, but he didn't move his WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 81

hand any higher and within a few minutes I had relaxed enough to move my hand up to touch his head. I felt him shiver in response as I ran my fingers through his crisp hair and tickled the edge of his ear the way he did to me.

I heard rather than saw as the car slid to a stop and a gentle knock on the glass had us pulling away from each other. I hurriedly checked my clothes and leaned forward preparing to leave the car when with a little chuckle, Gage said, “I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Your mouth is puffy from my kisses and you have the look of a woman who has been well loved.”

I blushed and he laughed again and pulled me out of the car with him. His hand was on the hollow of my back and I liked that. One of the bodyguards opened the door to the restaurant for us and I frowned. Why did they have to come with us everywhere?

The restaurant was small and dimly lit. We sat in a small alcove and I watched as his three bodyguards took up positions near the door and windows.

We ordered dinner and drinks and afterwards the silence pulsed between us. I didn't know what to say and he had a brooding look on his face as he watched me while tapping the edge of his wineglass with a pensive motion.

I knew what I wanted to say, but embarrassment kept me from saying it. With a

desperate sigh I looked around the restaurant. It was surprisingly full for a Thursday evening and with a jolt I saw, that with the exception of Gage's bodyguards, all the other diners were watching us and whispering.

“They're staring.”

“Who is?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of me.

“Everyone!” I said.

Gage turned his head and I saw several eyes fall to plates and women’s hands fluttered to their hair as his eyes fell on them for a brief moment.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He didn't seem to care but his look told me we could leave now if I wanted.

“No, this is okay.” Silence again and I blurted out what was on my mind before stopping to think about it.

“Why did I have all the dreams about you?”

For a moment he looked baffled and then he laughed with a carefree abandon that drew the eye. With a last chortle he leaned towards me across the table and reaching for my hand he smiled as he said, “Because you wanted to be with me.”

“I don't understand? Why would I want to me with you, I don't know you.”

“The first dream you had of me, do you remember it?”

I had to concentrate to bring the memory back. We were living in Little Rock, it was a hot night and I remembered having a hard time getting to sleep. The sound of the ancient air conditioner running full blast in my small, cramped bedroom struggling to keep up with the humid heat of an Arkansas summer was jarring.

I must have fallen asleep some time after midnight because I felt a presence in my bedroom and jerked awake. My eyes scanned the room and I drew back in fear when a tall shape stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room. The light from the street lamps outside backlit his dark clad form.

He was like a fallen angel, all silver and darkness and I felt a strange yearning as he WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 82

walked slowly to the side of my bed. With a moan of longing I held my hand out to him and just as our fingers were about to touch he disappeared. I woke up, for real this time, with a jolt of my heart. My room was empty, the man was gone.

“Yes,” I said slowly.

“What's the one thing that was different about that dream as opposed to all the others you had over the years?”

“You were in my room!” I gasped in shock as I realized that what he said earlier was true.

“I did it, I visited you all those times. It wasn't you it was me.”

He nodded and I took a deep breath trying to slow my racing thoughts.

“I don't understand, how did I do that, why, would I do that?”

“The first dream was my visit to you. I was desperate to find you, you were sixteen and I knew you must have come into your powers by then. Most witches do during puberty. But I never found a trace of magic from you. I knew you as a child, I touched your hand and we were bound by a magical oath. This was a strong bond and I used it to try and find you. But, you were frightened. Your conscious mind fought mine during the dream sharing and you thrust me away. But you were curious and over the next seven years you visited me over and over. But every time I tried to talk to you, you would disappear.”

Okay, so I was a subconscious voyeur, it could be worse. I thought about all those sleepless nights, how I had been so worried I was going crazy, if only I had known. Crazy could be treated, but this, this was a whole other kind of problem. I wasn't even sure what to worry about first.

Our food arriving was a welcome distraction. With half a mind on what I was eating I watched as Gage cut his food into neat bites and sipped at the glass of wine he ordered with his dinner. We both commented on our dinner and spent the rest of the meal talking about food and travel. Gage had, of course, been everywhere and I listened, with growing envy to his tales of floating down the Nile, diving for pearls in the South China Sea and eating roast goat in a yurt.

Too soon, we were ready to go and with a silent signal I saw his body guards rise as one and they flanked us as we walked from the restaurant to the waiting car.

“Do you really need them? All of the bodyguards with you all the time, everywhere?” I didn't mean to sound accusatory, it was just so strange, the way he traveled with an entourage like a superstar or something.

He gave me a surprised look and said, “They aren't for me, they're here for you.”

“What! Why?” I jerked back in shock.

He sighed in exasperation, “You are a witch of breeding age from a family with a history of pure bloodlines and powerful spell craft. Many warlocks would like to have children from you. Some of them would be willing to attack and kill me to get to you. If it was just a few warlocks, I could defend you, but some of them would come in a large group of thirty or forty.

I'm good with weapons and spell craft, but not that good,” he said in an offhand manner.

The food I had just eaten turned to lead. I felt sick, horrified and hunted and with a low moan I wrapped my arms around myself. He saw my distress and with a sigh, slid across the seat and scooped me into his arms to sit on his lap.

I wiggled in discomfort, it felt odd to sit on his lap. I moved a bit more, wrapping my arm around his and sliding myself around until I found a comfortable position with my head under his chin and I settled down with a gentle puffing sound. He kissed the top of my head and WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 83

thankfully didn't say anything else for the rest of the drive.

I was just dozing off when I felt myself fly through the air and hit the side of the door with my elbow as the car was hit from behind with a loud crunching of metal and squealing tires.

The car rocked a moment like it would tip over before settling to the road with a head jarring thump and I heard Gage curse and the ominous sound of a gun being cocked in the front seat.

The window between us and the driver was down and I saw the long rifle in the man's hands and his eyes met Gage's in the rear view mirror with a tiny nod. All was silent a moment until shouting and cursing filtered in from outside of the car.

Gage pulled open a hidden compartment in the seat and I saw with shock that it was filled with guns, knives and rows of ammunition. He pulled up the bar console and I saw him pull out a long sword and rest it by his feet.

Before I got a chance to question him, the car was rammed again and with a crunching sound the limo listed drunkenly a ways before stopping on the gravel shoulder of the road. I could smell gasoline and burning rubber and the stench made my eyes tear up.

I crouched on the seat and looked out the back window, the scene outside was one of chaos. Flashes of red light, followed by explosive gun shots as the doors were ripped off of the SUV by black suited men caught my eye.