Con laughed. “My theory is that spell was invented during the first traffic jam, but don’t quote me. I’m no history buff.”
Her gaze now fixed on the house, Sarah could tell that some parts of it were older than others. It looked so familiar she had to catch her breath as happy memories of simpler pleasures assailed her.
“What’s wrong?” Lorie’s voice was low. Close.
“Nothing at all. It feels right. Your family has a beautiful home.”
The SUV door opened and Con was holding out his hand. “Wait until you see the inside.”
Sarah slid her palm against his, feeling the instant reaction along her skin, seeing the intensity of the energy around their fingers. The sensation echoed low in her stomach. Made her thighs tremble as she stepped onto the gravel drive.
Images of them together flooded her mind. They were against the door. The same fingers she was clutching had been thrusting inside her. She gasped for breath, tugging her hand out of his in the hopes that it would calm her desires.
Bang
She heard what sounded like a gunshot and a scream in the distance and instinctively fell to her knees, hiding behind a large tire. The adrenaline that had been arousal was instantly replaced by fear. This was how she would die today. It had been one long, elaborate illusion to show her everything she wanted, only to rip it all away before she could feel complete. Was it really true? Surely the spell had not adapted that profoundly?
“Sarah, I need you to hear me. It was just a motorcycle. A vehicle with two wheels and one loud engine. You’re free. You will not die today. I promise you, you are free.”
Lorie had pulled her into his arms, repeating his comforting words over and over as he rocked her. His embrace infused her with a feeling of safety and serenity. How did he do that so easily—make her trust him? Believe his words?
But still, she needed more confirmation. “Are you certain? You were there. What if we’re having the same visions?”
Lorie cupped her face in his hands, studying every feature as though she were as stunning to him as he was to her. “We’re not. Don’t you remember? We wouldn’t be together. I couldn’t hold you if we were still there. The spell insured it. Now out here? It would be no punishment to die with my arms around you. In fact, that’s exactly how I’m planning to go…in a hundred years or so.”
In his sea blue eyes, in that moment, she saw herself through him. Long dark waves of hair curling wildly down her back, eyes that were no ordinary brown, but the color of the caramel she’d had on top of her decadent dessert and framed by thick, ebony lashes.
She was beautiful to him. She felt beautiful because of him. And she realized—with a sense of revelation that almost scared her—she felt loved. He’d said he’d dreamt of her since he was a child. His magic had given him a vision of his match that he’d spent a lifetime pursuing. She tore her gaze from his to look down at the ground they were kneeling on. She didn’t deserve that kind of adoration.
If the reality of who she was disappointed him, she could not tell. But how could it not? She wasn’t whole, and he couldn’t truly save her.
Con shuffled his feet beside them. “I’ve shielded the grounds. No one, human or otherwise, will be disturbing us.”
Shielded? That was his ability? She hadn’t known. Hadn’t asked. She glanced up at him, smiling through unexpected tears. “That was my father’s ability. A hero’s ability. Was it you who added the extra protection to the spell that released me?”
He nodded, almost bashfully as he helped her back onto her feet, Lorie right beside her. She reached up and kissed Con’s cheek. “Thank you.”
His expression was startled, his eyes darkening. “Anytime. Now let’s get you inside so shy little Lorie can have his wicked way with you.”
Lorie reached around her to punch Con’s arm. “Not so little, thank you very much.”
Sarah couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. And, with her fear receding once more, she had to agree. “Yes, let’s get me inside so I can be scandalized in the proper and modern Magian way.”
The two men recovered quickly from their shock. Lorie threw his head back with a laugh, and Con bent down to pick her up and set her over his shoulder.
He was already walking when he finally responded. “Nothing proper about it, baby. But I can promise you scandal.”
A tour of the house didn’t seem to be on the menu, as the men unceremoniously opened the door and strode swiftly past the large foyer and inviting den.
Sarah’s body bounced against Con’s back, shocks of light igniting everywhere they touched. When they turned down the hall and away from the stairs that appeared to lead to the bedrooms, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“My hideaway.” Lorie’s voice drifted to her through the narrow hallway. “We each have a special room in the house. One that no one else in the family can enter unless expressly invited. It was our fathers’ gift to us when we turned sixteen.”
“I love your dads. They actually understand the word privacy.” Con chuckled, the vibration traveling through his back against her breasts.
Sarah whimpered, trying to distract herself from her
desire. The room. She had to think about the room. “Is it a library?”