He blinked up at her. “You don’t like it?”
Her smile faded, and if he could see better, he’d have sworn she blushed. As it was, the dim glow of her alarm clock pasted a blue shine across her eyes.
“I like the way you touched me.”
“But did you like me in charge? Tell me.”
“Yes.” The soft sigh relieved him. “Now I know what’s been missing in all my relationships.” She huffed. “Though the one time I tried to get an old boyfriend to be a little bossier, it came across as fake. I had a hard time not laughing him out of my bed.”
“Nice.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s totally tacky to talk about other guys when I’m with you, huh? Not that there have been that many. Though I’m sure you’ve had a lot of past girlfriends. I don’t like to think of you with… I mean, sure, you have a past. But now you’re with me. Not with anyone else. Right?” She tapered off with a muffled groan. “I suck at post-sex talk.”
Once again, Noah felt himself smiling. A shift from his normal composure—stern, serious, and trapped in whatever past neared. “I told you before. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. I don’t do relationships well. Always end up pissing off my partners without meaning to.”
“Oh?”
“I was in a long-term thing with a woman. But I couldn’t be me.”
“You?”
He felt uncomfortable explaining but felt like he owed it to her. “I was with a woman a long time ago, one who liked it rough, liked me to boss her around. It’s something that gets me off in a big way.”
“I noticed.”
“Yeah, well, things went south with her. Then I met Deirdre. I liked her a lot. She was different. We seemed to get along, but I could never be free with her. I worried she’d leave me if I freaked her out with my ‘perverted tendencies.’”
Lara stroked his arm. “I like your perverted tendencies.”
He smiled. “Good. Deirdre couldn’t have handled them. And when she found out about my other big secret, seeing the past, she threw me out before I knew what had hit me. And that was three years ago.”
“You haven’t dated since?” She looked at him in wide-eyed disbelief.
“There were women but nothing lasting.” Noah sighed. “I’m not the most charming guy.”
She coughed. “Gee, I hadn’t noticed.”
He smacked her on the butt. “Smart-ass. I don’t seem to do well with women. I’m too rough, too demanding. Or I’m afraid of hurting them. Either with my needs or words.”
They lay together quietly, and Noah hoped his touchy-feely commentary had put her to sleep. How embarrassing to blather about feelings he didn’t have.
“You weren’t too rough with me. Or too demanding. I liked it.”
Warmth unfurled in his breast. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” A soft kiss pressed his throat, and Noah suppressed an odd welling of emotion he didn’t know what to do with. “I think you were pretty perfect, Noah.”
Afraid she’d start to cling, he readied himself to tell her it was just sex when she laughed at him. “But don’t get a big head or anything. I was going through a dry spell.” She poked him in the ribs, startling a gasp that she’d hit him right where it tickled, before she darted away from the bed for the bathroom.
The door closed behind her, and he heard the sink running.
Noah clasped his hands behind his head and wondered if he’d dreamed the whole thing. A woman he’d met just a few days ago. The epitome of sexy, smart, and beautiful. A natural submissive who didn’t take their relationship too seriously and had given him the best sex he’d ever had.
Why didn’t she take the thought of them seriously?
Minutes later, she reemerged and crawled back into bed with him. After a quick kiss, she rolled on her side away from him. “Night, Noah. Hey, if you want to wake me up like that again in an hour or so, go for it. I have to be up at the crack of dawn, though. We offer breakfast at the inn. You don’t know heaven until you’ve tried my Belgian waffles.”
“Fine, but don’t leave the building without me.”
“Mmm hmm.” To his astonishment, the woman fell asleep in seconds.
What to make of that?
Hours later, the sun hit him right between the eyes, lighting up the back of his lids. Noah reached for Lara, only to find the bed empty. “Shit.” He opened his eyes and stretched.
The clock showed nine a.m. Later than he’d planned to sleep, but the little woman had worn him out. Little woman. He laughed at himself. Too much time spent in the past tended to wear on him, and he often found himself caught in the colloquialisms of yesteryear.
He ambled into the bathroom to take care of his needs. A half hour later, showered, shaved, and brushed, he dressed in fresh clothes from his duffel and made a circumspect exit from her room. He didn’t want to embarrass her, but he had no problem letting everyone and their mother know he’d staked a claim.
For now, he reminded himself. Only until this job is done. But for the life of him, he didn’t feel an urge to return to Bend by himself. He also felt no hurry to find the painting, despite the fact he’d probably annoy Jack. He’d never understood why his peers took such pride in aggravating their boss. He found Jack to be surly but pleasant. The man didn’t talk much, and when he did, he had a reason. For the most part, he left Noah alone, and Noah liked it that way.
Solitude comforted him, which didn’t explain why he now sought Lara’s company. Not to protect her, but to talk to her, to see her smile.
Confusing sex with dumb-ass affection equaled stupid. He cautioned himself to remember the job and intentionally let his shields slip to see the most recent past. There, on the steps, a shadowed figure. He knew that vibe. Death and destruction seemed to follow in its wake.
Psychically stimulated despite his reticence, Noah followed the figure, ignoring Frank’s greeting as well as another guest he nearly ran over in his haste to watch something unpleasant unfold.
He entered his unlocked room, which he’d left locked, and found nothing out of place. Except for a pair of rose-shaped silver earrings lying on his pillow along with a warning to leave Lara and Brownville before the angel of death came callin’. Noah took a deep breath, exhaled, and tunneled further into the psychic miasma of yesterday, closer to the intruder. He followed the hatred back, into a dark room with a sloped ceiling. In the center of what looked like an attic, the portrait of Cecilia Fine sat on an easel, illuminated by candlelight and surrounded by roses, their thorns covered in something dark. Covered in blood.
And then the woman he’d visited in the morgue just last night came into view. She lay tied, bleeding and bruised and crying, upon an antique poster bed as the shadow alternately whipped then cut her. The man’s flank turned from shadow to the pink tones of flesh, and he started to mount her…
Noah pulled away and threw up his shields. He quelled the urge to panic. He wasn’t scared for himself, but of what the bastard might have in mind for Lara. Time to call in the big guns. He took his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a number.
“Jack? I’ve got a major problem.”
After several minutes spent explaining himself and arguing with Jack’s choice of backup, Noah finally gave in. It wasn’t whom he would have chosen, but according to Jack, Avery had already seen this particular person in Brownville, at Noah’s side. Avery, their friggin’ clairvoyant. What could Noah do but accept Jack’s choice? Then a thought struck him, and he realized the benefits of having a psychic with those particular skills at his disposal. Time to get back to work.
Lara frowned. “He didn’t even say hello?”
“Nope.” Frank ran a hand through his hair. “That is one sullen heartthrob you have there. So tell me, how was he?”