If it weren’t moving, she wouldn’t believe it was real. She’d never seen anything like it. But she’d heard about something exactly like it a few months ago. From Dani.
That was impossible. Wasn’t it? There was no way this was Dani’s disappearing spider, the one Kaya said was a messenger from some grandmother spirit guide or something.
“You are not here,” she whispered to the creature.
“I am. I’m right here and I’m going to help you down, okay, Elsa?” She wanted to tell him not to call her that, and not to talk to her like she was having a mental break, though at this point she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t.
“Just wait,” she told him impatiently.
The spider was pacing and flailing its many arms as it looked at her. Strange. Dani hadn’t mentioned it being angry. If it was some sort of mystical messenger, it seemed less than thrilled to be meeting her.
“If you don’t like it here, why don’t you skip me and head over to Kaya’s place?” she invited helpfully. “Then we can both forget this ever happened.”
In retrospect, it was the wrong thing to say. The sharp pincers on the spider’s face snapped menacingly.
Shit.
It didn’t matter that she knew what was coming. It was physically impossible to stay calm, cool and collected when a super-spider was making a kamikaze-like run at her head. She could actually hear the rapid clacking noise its legs were making on the plank floor as it sped toward her face. “Fuck!”
Her hands shot up defensively, her acrophobia replaced by the more immediate fear of having a magic spider plastered to her face like one of those face-hugger things from the Alien movies.
Before she could plummet to her death or, more likely, a bruised ego and behind, she was caught by a pair of thickly muscled arms. The rescue still jarred her bones and stole her breath, but it could have been worse.
Muscles. So many muscles.
“I’ve got you.”
It was either the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her, or relief had made her giddy. The fact that he’d caught her like it was nothing and he looked like the perfect combination of giant lumberjack and GQ cover model didn’t help the situation.
“Spider,” she breathed out on a sigh, unable to look away from him.
His expression of fascinated interest probably mirrored her own. Then his brow furrowed in confusion. “You saw a spider? Was that who you were talking to?”
“It was big,” she said, still shaken by her first look at his face. It was a good face. Strong. Stubbled jaw. Dimpled chin. Good cheekbones. His eyes were almost gunmetal gray, silver really, beneath a set of stern eyebrows. She’d never seen eyes like that before. “I was trying to reason with it.”
“You must have said something it didn’t like,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her. “They’re easily insulted.”
“You speak spider?”
“You don’t?”
“You can be charming then,” she said, echoing their earlier exchange.
His lips curved in a bemused smile. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
I’m half naked with bits of dust and who knows what else in my hair, I can’t remember if I shaved today, and this is when you send the spider and this glorious specimen my way? You’re fired, spirit Granny.
She wasn’t even wearing lip gloss, for crying out loud.
The way he was looking at her, like a lion lazily eyeing his evening meal, told her he didn’t mind. It should have raised all her internal alarms, but instead, she was ready to volunteer for the role of gazelle. This wasn’t like her at all. She didn’t even know his name.
“Did it bite you?” He squeezed her gently and she shivered in arousal. He was asking if she was okay, but based on her reaction, he may as well have said, “Can I bite you?”
Yes.
“No. It charged me. Like a bull.”
“A chatty bull spider drawn to that pink stripe in your hair. Makes sense to me.”
They were talking, but the words had no meaning for Bailey. All her attention was focused on the warm fingers flexing into her skin, the heat of his body engulfing her, the eyes that were tempting her with secrets. And he smelled really good.
Bailey had never bought into the pheromone thing, but now she had to wonder. Her body recognized his and wanted, without reason. “You feel nice.”
The words slipped out without her permission and she immediately wanted to slap herself.
Pull yourself together, woman! This is embarrassing.
“I mean I feel fine. I’m nice. I’m good.” She clasped hands in her lap to stop herself from touching his chest. “Now, is there something I can do for you?”
“Loaded question.” The rough pads of his fingers slid beneath the leg of her boxers and pressed into the bare flesh of her ass, branding her with his touch. “There was something, but you’ll need to give me a minute. You feel nice, too, and I’m distracted.”