"Because I don't want to call you what I call everyone else. You're special." She meant something to him.
Her features softened, those silver eyes going liquid. "Really?"
"Yes." He closed the distance between them and cupped her jaw. So soft, so delicate. "And I never would have abandoned you. I was going to toss the princess in a palace far from here, let her call herself my wife, and shack up with you." War averted, body and mind satisfied. "But now I don't have to. Now we can be together." In secret, he thought with a frown.
He didn't want to hide her, though. But he would. To keep her safe, he would do anything.
Rather than softening her further, his admission left her sputtering. She jerked from his clasp and backed away, his hands already mourning the loss of her. "How sweet of you. And how about this? I'll go find another man, let him live in my apartment, let him tell everyone he's my husband, and then I'll return to you."
Oh, hell, no. He got in her face, breath suddenly like fire in his nose. "Touch another man, call another man anything, and I will find a way to enter your dimension and murder him in front of you."
"I'll take that as a 'Do whatever you want, Rose.' " She pushed him, hard, and he stumbled backward. "To get here, all I had to do was think about you. To go home, I figure all I have to do is think about my apartment. Right?"
"You're staying right here." He lunged.
She waved her fingers, smiled too sweetly and—
Disappeared.
He flew through air, just missing her. "No. Rose!" Righting himself, he swung left and right, searching for her, any sign of her, his heart pounding against his ribs, that heated breath still sawing in and out. There wasn't a single trace of her.
"You little witch!"
She'd gone home. well, this was her home now, and it was time she learned and accepted.
She'll be back, he told himself. One week, and she would be back. She wouldn't be able to stop herself.
He almost rubbed his hands together as his blood flamed yet another degree. He did laugh.
This, he realized, was just foreplay for him. Like the threats and the name-calling were foreplay for her. Every time she left, he only wanted her more.
Oh, how he enjoyed her.
Oh, how he would have her. In every way imaginable.
One week, he thought again. He had some planning to do.
Chapter Seven
Maybe she'd overreacted, Rose thought the next day as she cocooned herself in the cold sheets of her bed. Alone. Aching. As if the fire Vasili ignited had never been doused. Had she stayed with him, she could have woken up in his arms. They could have made love. Down and dirty, nothing taboo. She was more certain than ever that he wouldn't allow insecurities or hesitation on her part.
He would demand everything. And she would give it. Willingly. Eagerly.
But he'd thought about making another woman his "wife" and she'd felt as if he had just punched her in the stomach. Her fury and her jealousy had raged out of control. She couldn't stand the thought of him with someone else, even for appearances. Even to save his people and his land.
Selfish hussy.
She wished she had a girlfriend to talk to about him, but over the years she'd cut everyone from her life. Or they had run from her. She worked, she trained, she thought about Vasili, and that was it. Which was his fault, damn it! After that first visit to his world, she'd begun to pull herself out of this one. She knew that now. As if she'd known she no longer belonged here. As if she belonged with him.
I want to be with him. Forever. She should have shied away from the thought, but couldn't. It felt too . . . right. Too perfect. To be pleasured every day the way he'd pleasured her yesterday . . . yes, yes, a thousand times yes. But . . . did he want forever from her? They'd never been together more than a day at a time. Maybe they'd hate each other after a week. Maybe they weren't compatible. Except in bed. There they'd be magical. No question.
But the get-along thing she couldn't work out in her mind. Would they or wouldn't they?
There was only one way to find out....
Return and stay, without letting him drive her away. No matter how much he annoyed her. She nodded, instinctively liking the thought. Yes, she would return and stay for a week.
But first, she wanted to find out some stuff for him. He'd asked her numerous times for names of other Walkers and the dates they visited. She would find out, but she wouldn't give him the info until she knew why he wanted it.
Moaning, she lumbered from the bed, showered quickly, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
Then she made a call.
"I was surprised when you contacted me."
Rose peered over at Nick. Her kind-of ex. They were inside a coffee shop, a round iron table between them, people coming in and out, and bright, hot air blustering through the door. Too bright, too hot. She suddenly missed the dark and cold of Vasili's world.
What did he call his land, anyway? "Nightmare" just didn't fit anymore.
"Sorry," she said, fingers tightening around her mocha latte. "About ignoring you." For more than a year. "That was rude, and immature, and I feel terrible."
"I would have appreciated a reason," he said. His hair was a darker shade of blond now, and his face a little lined. From stress? His cheeks were gaunt, as if he weren't eating properly, and his clothing was wrinkled, as if he no longer cared about his appearance. Still, he was a handsome man, and more muscular than most humans.
"I . . . kind of have a boyfriend. We're on again, off again." Truth. Vasili claimed they were married.
And part of her believed him. Because part of her wanted them to be married. Even though they saw each other only once a year. That's about to change. Soon you'll have your week.
And then . . . more?
Hopefully. He'd put his hands on her, kissed her, tasted her, and oh, she needed more. With every minute that passed away from him, being with him stopped being a want and became a need. Like breathing. She had to have him. More of his touches, all of his kisses.
"I see," Nick said, drawing her from her daydreams.
"I really am sorry," she repeated. "I liked you, I did, but . . ."
"You liked him more." A defeated sigh. "Does he know?"
About Nightmare, Nick meant. "Yes. He knows." Because he lives there.
"Is he a . . . you know, too?"
She shook her head.
Nick's dark eyes widened with shock. "And he accepts you?"
"Yes."
He frowned, but that frown soon became tinted with sadness. "You're very lucky."
Lady troubles? Had someone rejected him because of what he could do? Probably. Rose could relate. She hadn't lied to Vasili. Her parents barely spoke to her anymore, and each encounter stung worse than the last.