Chapter Four

 

 

Sam wondered how long a man could live in a state of sexual arousal before he exploded in frustration.

Showering off the effects of another night of sweaty dreams and impossible wants, he considered that question.

He and Rose had spent a lot of time with each other, working on her storyline. It was fascinating to watch her sketch her vision of his words, to see their story come to life on under the stroke of her colored pencils. It was inspiring to see her enthusiasm and excitement over developing the game world, the elements and challenges and rewards.

So far, they’d worked together for five days in direct contact.

Five days, they’d discussed the thread of romance, the idea of bringing a hero together with his perfect heroine. Three days talking about what it’d take for him to make a move, or being forward thinking, what it’d take for her to make her move.

So many variations of courtship, so many alluring options, so many seductive ideas. And every damn one of them kept Rose firmly in his mind as the one he wanted to court, to allure. To seduce.

Not on the agenda, he reminded himself. He was here to help her finish her obligation to Black Magic games, to convince her to give Coeur d’Alene and her grandparents a chance, and to be a friend.

The end, period, no further discussion.

And definitely no seduction.

At least, not yet. He figured seducing the granddaughter of good friends when he had a personal agenda was pretty damned, well, unheroic. Which meant seduction was off the table.

At least, until he convinced her to come to Coeur d’Alene. Once there, she’d get to know Stephan and Leah. She’d learn her own family history, see if where she fit into it.

Then, when everything was out in the open and she was comfortably decided on the direction of her life... Then he’d seduce her.

But damn, waiting was hard, he thought with a groan as he got out of the shower. So far, he’d tried counting backward from a thousand by threes, reciting baseball stats and wild mental mad libs. None were any help distracting him the need he felt for her the minute she was within sight.

He was still mulling options and possible distractions when he walked out of the bathroom.

“Good morning.”

“Anja,” he greeted, glad he’d pulled on his pants. “How’re you this morning?”

“Fine and fabulous,” she told him, offering a smile as bright as the vivid yellow sundress she’d paired with a turquoise scarf that draped at the waist and purple beads layered five deep around her neck.

“Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with decorating this room?” he asked with a laugh, gesturing to indicate how well her outfit went with the décor.

“Please, credit me with more taste than faux fur.” She tossed her long curls behind her shoulder, then tapped one finger on the silver-domed plate waiting at the table. “And with being a good hostess. I brought you breakfast.”

“Uh huh.” He stepped closer, lifting the dome with caution. An omelet, fried potatoes with vegetables, a rasher of bacon and basket of fragrantly steaming cranberry muffins.

It smelled incredible. And it looked safe enough. But he wasn’t sure he was willing to chance it.

“You think I’d bespell you?” Anja sounded more amused than offended.

“I think you’re a clever woman who likes to see people she cares about happy,” he sidestepped.

“And what would make you happy?”

“Who says I’m not already?”

“Are you?”

“You’re good at answering questions with questions. Have you ever considered dabbling in psychiatry? If you ever give up the magic and baking, that is.”

“I don’t need to be a psychiatrist to recognize deflection when I hear it.” Anja gave him an arch look before picking up the fork, cutting off a bite of the omelet and eating it with an mmm of enjoyment. “There. No spell.”

“Try the potatoes, too,” he suggested.

She didn’t bother to hide her eye roll, but she did eat a scoop of potatoes, then snipped off a bite of bacon before setting down the fork and crossing her arms.

“Well?”

“Well, what? Look, I am happy. I have a great career. I’m financially sound. I like my house, the town, the people I’m around. I’m healthy, active and have all my teeth.” To prove it, he bared them at her. “See? Happy.”

“But is your heart happy?”

“My heart is just fine, thanks.” Although Sam was tempted to check his penis, just to make sure he hadn’t turned into a girl for giving in to this conversation.

“And what about Rose?”

“If you mean the project we’re doing? It’s going well. We have a lot of elements to hash out still, but we have a pretty solid storyline to go forward with.” To forestall whatever words might go with that look on Anja’s face, he grabbed a bite of the omelet, gave a yummy noise, then continued, “If you’re referring to my personal hope of talking her into spending some time in Coeur d’Alene? There’s nothing to tell there, but only because I haven’t broached the subject. Once we’ve made a little more progress on the story, I’ll discuss it with her.”

Anja broke off a small piece of the cranberry nut muffin on his tray and ate it before tilting her head to one side.

“And her magic?”

Damn.

Sam rubbed two fingers over the sudden throbbing in his forehead and dropped into the ladder-back chair.

“She does have magic, doesn’t she?” At Anja’s nod, he sighed. “I thought I felt hints, but I couldn’t be sure. I mean, everyone has inherent abilities. I figured that’s what I was feeling.”

Figured. Hoped. Pretty much the same thing.

“Her power is untapped. Asleep, even. But the potential is great.” This time it was Anja who sighed. “But she may choose to ignore it. To let it slumber, untapped and unrecognized. If that’s the path she chooses, you won’t get her back to your friends and their home in Coeur d’Alene. She won’t be able to awaken to the possibilities.”

“You’re sure?”

Of course she was sure. Anja wouldn’t have made a point to warn him if she wasn’t.

Great. Sam rubbed his fingers over his eyes. This added a whole new layer of challenge to his task.

“I know you decided to ease Rose into the news about her heritage, about her grandparents’ needs. But there isn’t much time. She has an enemy. Someone jealous of her place in their world, someone who benefits more in keeping Rose asleep and under their thumb than awake and out of their reach.” Anja’s eyes took on that dark, otherworldly seers glow that told Sam that she was getting her words from somewhere beyond. Then she blinked and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I suppose it’d all be easier if you didn’t have feelings for her. But maybe those feelings are what will help you decide.”

With that and a gentle pat on his cheek, Anja swept from the room.

Sam sighed, then shot a dismissive glance at the breakfast she’d left behind. He had no appetite for food. But he was starving for a few solid, workable ideas.

Some people meditated. Others turned to the tarot, the stars, the runes. He knew one guy who put on a turban and communed with spirits.

But Sam?

Sam grabbed a notepad and a mechanical pencil and settled into the corner of the weirdly comfortable couch.

When he was stuck, he wrote.

Lists, ideas, outlines, plans.

He emptied his mind, words onto paper. Once there, he could revise them, rearrange them, put them in an order that made sense.

Once he’d finished, once he’d put all of his thoughts in writing, he leaned back and began to read through the stream of conscious notes for a pattern, searching for the message.

And shifted uncomfortably.

Her lips were a luscious invitation, waiting for his tongue. Every move she made sparked a flame of lust in his belly, a flame he was desperate to quench in her moist depths. He wanted to make her smile, to give her pleasure, to make her scream in time to his thrusting lust. He wanted her like a cat wanted a mouse. He craved her like an addict craved a hit.

Sam grimaced.

Obviously, he didn’t have much talent at erotic romance, he realized with a sigh. And just as clearly, he wanted to sleep with Rose. Or take her to bed and not sleep for hours—for days—on end.

He blew out of breath, wishing he could release the hunger as easily. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore the feelings raging through his system any more than he could the words on the page. But like the lust he felt for Rose, all he could do was pretend to ignore it and get on with what he was supposed to be doing.

With that in mind and another deep, cleansing breath, he ripped the pages off the tablet and tucked them behind the rest to deal with later.

With sex off his brain, or at least out of sight, he looked at what was left.

Anja claimed Rose had an enemy, and that was true. But a bigger threat was Rose’s inability to break the spell of guilt she was under.

Before he could help her with anything, she had to accept that she wasn’t responsible for someone else’s debts, that she didn’t owe Black Magic—or more to the point, Millicent Faire—a single damned thing. Any debt she’d incurred from their putting her through college, for them helping her and her mother out over the years, had been repaid time and time again with the success of the games she’d created for them.

Despite whatever ideas the new CEO might have.

Bitch. Sam hadn’t met Millicent, but he knew her cousins. Three sweet ladies with the talent and cleverness to take their grandfather’s company worldwide, they’d visited Coeur d’Alene from time to time. He figured anybody who’d pull a hostile takeover on women like that—on family, no less—wasn’t a shark, she was a dragon.

But even a dragon would bargain for gold.

Which meant all Rose needed was a story worth its weight.

A vivid story she could translate into a brilliant game. One filled with magic and quests and challenges of power. Nothing he couldn’t handle.

Whatever it took, he’d make damned sure Rose nailed this game. He’d get the pretty little blonde out of Millicent’s clutches, and she’d go out on her own terms.

Then she’d be free, and probably a little grateful, and more than ready to hear his suggestion that she visit her grandparents.

A little voice, one that might sound a little like his conscience, nagged that he was manipulating her potential gratitude. That same voice pointed out that it’d be better to just be upfront.

But upfront left her the choice of saying no. And he couldn’t risk that.

Because choice or not, he thought as he flipped through the notebook until he reached his tucked-away lust-filled pages, he wanted her there. He wanted her with him.

Choice or not, simply wanted her.

In every way possible.

 

 

It took Rose a good ten minutes to find a parking space near Karma Café. A good sign for the business, but man, she was tired of the big city. She loved hearing Sam talk about his hometown. No parking issues, no angry commuters, no crowded sidewalks filled with irritated people trying to mow you down.

She shook her head at woman who pushed between her and two other people, the woman’s huge purse slapping Rose on the hip hard enough to leave a bruise.

Yeah. Sam’s hometown sounded pretty good right now.

So far, she’d resisted the urge to stay later than business hours with Sam at his funky apartment. And since she lived with her mother, she had a built in deterrent to even thinking about inviting him back to her place.

But she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to resist the man, Rose admitted to herself as she dodged through the crowd. She was halfway to the café when her phone rang.

She glanced at the display and rolled her eyes.

Did the woman have a locator or something that let her always call just before Rose settled in for a creative session?

“Rose? What’s taking you so long to report in? I swear, girl, you sleep right through life. Where is your sense of responsibility? Your ambition? Do you even own a watch? Because, in case you didn’t notice, it’s noon,” Millicent said, her words snapping through the phone line like a rabid dog. “I expected a report from you this morning. Noon, in case you forgot, is after morning.”

“I emailed the report last night,” Rose reminded her. “I’ll be in the office when I’ve finished the sketches and storyline draft of this game.”

“And when will that be? Black Magic is depending on this game for the holiday season. We need it to pull us out of the slump the last few yawn-worthy games caused,” Millicent ranted, her tone so nasty that Rose imagined flames spouting out her nose. “So I don’t care how good you claim it is, if this design is late, I’ll be very put out. Believe me, Rose, you don’t want to make me angry.”

“This game will break the slump,” Rose promised, wishing she’d ignored the call until she was with Sam. Something about him made her feel invincible. Since she hadn’t, though, she tried to call up some of glowing sense of power she felt when she was with him. Feeling it coil like desire in her belly, she put it in her voice. “It’ll be the best thing I’ve ever made.”

“So you say.” As if appeased, Millicent sucked in one of her trademark loud breaths through her nose. She gave a low harrumph, then cleared her throat. “In the meantime, there is someone here who wants to talk with you.”

Oh, hell.

Ignoring the crowded sidewalk, Rose let out a silent groan. The power faded from her belly so fast, she had to lean against a pretty building.

The phone hummed as the call was transferred, then a cheery voice called out a greeting.

“Rose, darling. How is my baby.”

“Hello, Mother.”

“Darling, I know you’re busy. Of course you’re busy. And you’re doing your best. You always do. But it would have been so much better if you’d have come into the office when you were supposed to.”

“Don’t worry about it, mother. I’ve got a handle on the game and will make the deadline.”

“We owe Millicent,” her mother reminded her. “Darling, I can’t pay her back for everything she did, everything Black Magic did for me. For us. She’s family now. And family takes care of family, darling.”

Rose wanted to object. Her mother had turned her back on her own family. She’d forbidden Rose from having anything to do with them. The only loyalty to family that Effe had was to her husband’s kin. The ones with money. Money she now owed.

But the words died in Rose’s throat.

Because she knew her mother had saved her. She’d gotten her away from a horrible family, from a terrible environment and given her a chance at a good life. Sure, Effe MacBriar expected a lot in return. But as she’d often said, she’d sacrificed for her daughter, and it was only right that her daughter make sure she didn’t have to sacrifice ever again.

So Rose would finish this job, she’d pay off her mother’s debt.

And that she’d do. For family.

“I have to go, Mother.”

“Now, Rose, I’m not finished.”

No. Effe would go on and on for hours, layering the guilt over reminders of everything she’d sacrificed, sprinkling all that with passive aggressive drops of motherly love.

“I have to work, mother. I’ll call you later.”

Rose gave herself a few minutes to gather herself before heading to the café. To Sam. She’d be damned if she’d go in there showing off the cloak of pity she so often wore when dealing with her mother.

It took all of those few minutes, a stern talking to and a reminder that she wasn’t a damned wimp to call up that glowing energy in her belly again. To empower herself enough to put on a smile and finish her walk to the café.

She managed to get through the doors and to the stairs with only a wave for Anja, who colorfully manned the counter. And if her head was full of family drama and doubts when she stepped into the apartment, she figured she was due.

But the minute she walked in, all drama, all thoughts, and most of her brain cells, fell out of her head.

“Oh.” She wet her lips, her eyes traveling over Sam’s bare chest and broad shoulders. The golden sprinkling of hair bisecting his pecs made her mouth water and her fingers itch to touch. “Hi.”

“Rose. Hi. Sorry, I was just getting dressed.” With that, Sam pulled on a button up shirt, his fingers moving way too fast to close it up.

She wet her lips and sighed.

He was so gorgeous. Pure temptation.

You’d think his impact would be less after a week of constant contact. Instead, it was so intense that it took all of her willpower not to stride across the room, rip open his shirt and lick his chest.

And given that she’d used up so much of her willpower already this morning, Rose didn’t hold out a lot of hope for resisting much longer.