Knight of Wands (Knights of the Tarot Book 1) (31 page)

“Do you like that?”

A smile danced on his mouth. “Do you have to ask?”

She lifted her eyes, meeting his dark and hungry gaze. Holding it, she dragged her tongue across his glans. “Would you like me to suck your cock?”

He made a sound, half cough, half laugh. “Is that a trick question?”

Still holding his gaze, she drew the tip of his dome into her mouth and pressed her tongue into his meatus. She felt him tremble, heard his breath catch, and saw his eyelids flutter. She took him deeper, his size straining her jaw and lips. He took hold of her head, fingers digging into her scalp. She began to suck while swirling her tongue around his flange.

“Oh, lass,” he rasped, pushing himself deeper, “that feels incredible.”

Lust blazed from her navel to her knees. She loved pleasing him like this, but couldn’t keep it up for long. He was so big, her jaw was wrenched open to a painful degree. She let him go with a parting twirl of her tongue and slid off him and the bed. She then set about removing his shoes, socks, and trousers before dropping the lot on the floor.

She held out a hand. “Now the shirt.”

Sitting up, he wriggled out of it and tossed it to her. After depositing it with the rest of his clothes, she took a minute to admire his naked physique. God, he was a beautiful hunk of man, but also so much more. Being with him was like basking in the sunshine. He added rather than subtracted. She’d never felt that with anyone before. Never dreamed such a feeling was possible.

“Callum?”

“Aye?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

The tremulous smile he gave her filled her heart with warmth and light. She climbed onto the bed and stalked up his body like a lioness until she looked down upon his handsome face. He reached up, through her hanging hair, and brushed her cheek with a tenderness that warmed her to the depths of her soul.

“So am I, lass. So am I.”

Slipping his arms around her, he pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. She nuzzled against his chest, grateful he was there. A long silence descended before she mustered the courage to say what was in her heart. “I want this to work, Callum. I really do, but I need to do more with my life,
be
more in this world, than just someone’s wife.”

He let her go and drew back until he could look her in the eye. Embarrassed by her tears, she dashed them away.

“Vanessa,” he said, looking into her eyes, “have I ever tried to stop you from doing what you wanted?”

“Well…no.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Her lip trembled, infuriating her as much as her inarticulateness. “I don’t trust feelings to last.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Any. My mom and dad loved each other in the beginning, and then, all they did was fight until he couldn’t take any more and walked out. Then, my mom killed herself and left me all alone in the world. Not that she was ever there for me, even when she was alive.”

* * * *

Now he understood. She didn’t trust love to last because everyone who should have cared for her deserted her, one way or another. He wanted to reassure her; to tell her he loved her and always would, but this seemed like the wrong time to try and pin her down.

Better to revel in their reunion and keep his wishes to himself. He stroked her face and looked into her eyes, pouring into the look all the love in his heart. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

He didn’t need to ask twice, thank the stars. In a blink, she was on top of him with her lips crushing his. As she stroked his jaw, he captured her hand, holding it to his face as he deepened the kiss. He’d had her several times that night already, but it wasn’t enough. When it came to his butterfly, there was no such thing as enough.

Releasing her hand, he ran both of his down her body, rejoicing in the silky warmth of her skin. He cupped her buttocks, holding her against him as he rocked his hips to let her feel his hardness.

“Again?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, aye. Again and again, until all the seas gang dry.”

They made love with a vengeance and when it was over, she dozed off while he continued to hold her. Moonlight streamed through the bedroom window and, except for the rattle and hum of the air-conditioner, the house was quiet.

So were his thoughts, remarkably enough. Then, suddenly and without mercy, reality crashed through his blissful bubble like a wrecking ball. There was Armstrong to deal with and Alasdair Sinclair, and he should probably make up his mind once and for all about the election.

There also was Vanessa to think about. The sad truth was, his butterfly valued her freedom more than she valued him. She’d made it plain from the outset that air did not need fire the way fire needed air. If only he’d had the good sense to listen.

* * * *

With Callum snoring beside her, Vanessa blinked up at the ceiling. How could he be so calm when she was agonizing over where to go from here? With him to Scotland or back to San Francisco? Only one thing was certain. She loved him. It might be foolhardy given the briefness of their acquaintance, but she knew him well enough to know he was the one for her.

The Beauty to her Beast.

Her Mr. Right.

Her Knight of Wands.

Her immortal partner.

It didn’t have to be all or nothing, of course. They could continue to see each other while she lived in America. She could go back to San Francisco or look for another job here. If he won the election, she’d hardly ever see him, but she’d just have to deal with his absence as best she could. That could be a nice little life. A nice, safe little life. She’d have him and her freedom, too. So, why didn’t it seem like enough?

That was the question gnawing at her. Would it be enough to see him now and again, knowing their bloodlust might force them to seek other partners in the interim? Could she live with that? Could he?

With a sigh, she rolled toward him. Her beautiful, slumbering lion. She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, searching her heart. He was a better man than she’d given him credit for. As he’d said, he needed to love like the lion he was…and she must not only let him be himself, but also love him for who he was.

Her mind retrieved something she’d read in a book once. Love was like a high for some people, and when the high wore off, they jumped to another bed to get the feeling again. They don’t want to love, they wanted to be loved. They didn’t give, they took. Like vampires, they drained their victims dry because, deep down, they were deficient in some way.

A thought struck her then like a hammer. Callum wasn’t the one the passage described; she was. He didn’t drain her, he filled her up, adding rather than subtracting, something she’d never felt with anyone before, never even dreamed might be possible.

Lifting a hand to his face, she stroked his jaw, her heart overflowing. He was so wonderful and she loved him so much. He opened one eye and smiled at her.

“Tell me how you feel,” she said. “And please be honest.”

He pushed up on an elbow and fixed her with his gentle golden gaze. He took a deep breath and let it out. “I love you, with all of heart. We may be opposites, but we complement and balance each other. Like yin and yang.”

He’d spoken the words with a tenderness that made her ache inside. All her life, she’d distrusted those words, but hearing them now from his lips filled her with joy. She kissed him, needing to taste as well as to hear his avowal.

Then, her old doubts reared their head. “What if, upon closer acquaintance, you change your mind?”

He swept his knuckles along her arm. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I wish I could believe that.” Fighting tears, she rolled onto her back. Her lip trembled, infuriating her as much as her inarticulateness. “But the truth is, I just don’t trust feelings to last.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Either. Both. Any. My mom and dad loved each other in the beginning, and then, all they did was fight until he couldn’t take any more and walked out. Then, my mom killed herself and left me all alone in the world. Not that she was ever there for me, even when she was alive.”

He kissed her softly—a brush of the lips. “I’ll always be there for you,
mo dearbadan-de
. On that you have my solemn vow.”

Chapter 19

Since Callum had to get back to Scotland very soon to campaign, they’d agreed to go to Napoleon House the next morning to have a drink and check out Finn MacKnight, after which they planned to stop by the swamp to do some hunting.

It was now close to eleven o’clock, hotter than hell, and as steamy as a Turkish bath. Callum was behind the wheel of Vanessa’s Taurus and doing a stellar job, considering he’d never driven on the left side of the car or the road before. He also didn’t know his way around New Orleans, not that she could claim more than a nodding familiarity herself. Luckily, she had her trusty Google Maps app at her disposal.

As they drove through the French Quarter, she pointed out some of the local sites and shared a few interesting stories, including the one about Jack St. Germain. Callum seemed genuinely interested and in good spirits, so she hoped their day together would be pleasant, despite their unresolved differences.

The Napoleon House—a three-story stucco building that had seen better days—was located at the corner of Chartres and Saint Louis, two blocks west of Jackson Square and the cathedral. The interior had the feel of an old English pub with its beamed ceilings, weathered plaster walls, mismatched tables, and massive wooden bar. The courtyard had a much more Mediterranean feel with its potted palms, ceiling fans, and white tablecloths. As inviting as the
al fresco
option was, they opted for a table with air-conditioning.

A striking mulatto woman showed them to their table and took their drink order. Vanessa asked for the Pimms Cup—the bar’s signature drink—while Callum, true to form, requested their best single-malt whisky.

“Is Finn working today?” Vanessa asked the server as she turned to go.

“He is.” The waitress glanced toward the bar, where no one appeared to be on duty. “Are you friends of his?”

“Not really,” Vanessa told her. “He did me a service a few nights ago and told me to pop in sometime for a cocktail and to say hello. So, here I am.”

“Well,” the woman said, “he’s around here somewhere. When I see him, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

The restaurant wasn’t what Vanessa would call crowded, but there were several other patrons drinking, eating, and chatting away. It seemed like a nice place—a little rough around the edges, perhaps, but in a way that was more old-world than run-down. The classical music pouring out of the jukebox contributed to the sophisticated ambiance.

As Vanessa drank it all in, she noticed a man sitting alone at a corner table. Something about him seemed familiar and, as she studied him, trying to work out where she knew him from, he met her gaze. Surprise registered on his face before he hid it behind a friendly smile.

Face heating, she returned the smile briefly before looking away. She set her hand on Callum’s arm and gave it a squeeze. Offering her the sweetest of smiles, he set his hand atop hers.

“Mo bhilis.”

It sounded to her like “ma vilis” and he’d said it in the soft way one utters an endearment, making her warm as well as curious. “What did you just say?”

“
Mo bhilis
,” he repeated. “It means ‘my sweet’ in Gaelic.”

She liked that, liked having him here, liked that he seemed to want to work things out to their mutual satisfaction. She couldn’t see the way right now, but she was definitely willing to venture down that path, which was huge for her. She wanted to be with him, wanted to believe he was her one true love. Somewhere along the way, he’d restored her faith in love. He’d also stolen her heart, the wily lion.

The clatter of ice drew her gaze toward the bar. There was Finn, fixing her drink. Callum’s whisky already sat on the bar in a low-ball glass.

“There he is,” she whispered, leaning closer to Callum. “Let’s go over and say hello before he disappears again.”

As they both got up, their chair legs scraped loudly, drawing Finn’s attention. Recognition bloomed on his face along with a smile.

“I told you I’d come by when I could,” she said, rushing up to the bar. “Thank you again for coming to my rescue.”

“It was my pleasure,” Finn said with a dazzling smile.

She took Callum’s arm and pulled him closer. “This is Callum Lyon, my”—she stopped herself, unsure how to fill in the blank—”um…the guy I told you about.”

When Callum offered his hand, Finn stopped what he was doing to give it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Finn MacKnight.”

“Likewise.” Callum gave the man the cool once-over. “And thank you for coming to my lady’s aid when I wasn’t available to do so myself.”

“I was glad to be of service.” Finn returned to mixing the cocktail on the bar. As he wedged a cucumber slice among the ice cubes, he pushed the Pimms Cup toward the whisky. “These, I believe, are your drinks,” he said, looking up with a smile. “Would you like to take them back with you or shall I have Serena bring them over?”