hair darkened with sweat, her head thrown back in ecstasy, riding him with abandon, her nails digging into his chest.
He’d spent twenty minutes wrestling his hunger back to its corner.
And then he’d discovered her in his study. Had she arrived a few minutes sooner, she’d have seen him emerging from his hidden room. No one but Cassandra knew of his inner sanctum.
The most insane part of the whole encounter was that through his haze of anger, he’d wanted to grab her shoulders and drag her to him. He’d wanted to part her thighs and claim her as his own.
What the hell was he thinking? She was a vagabond, nothing more, wandering through. She’d soon be gone and he’d never see her again.
Why did that thought bother him? And what was it about her he found so damned appealing?
He watched the fire burn until the newest log was consumed.
Downing the last of the shot, he deposited the glass on his desk and rose. It was time for him to determine exactly what his guests had planned.
He found the four mortals in his kitchen making use of the stove. Scents suggested some form of food he wasn’t familiar with.
“Come on,” one of the men said. “Put olives in it.”
“Olives?” a woman answered. “In chili? That’s disgusting.”
“No, it’s—”
They fell silent as he entered the room.
Wendy and Kyle stood at the stove where they had been arguing over ingredients. Jack spread dishes around the table and Star filled glasses with a purple liquid. She glanced up, spotted him, and spilled some of the purple drink onto the counter before righting the bottle.
He stayed just inside the doorway, trying not to show his disgust at the strange aroma. “I take it you’re finding sufficient food?”
“We picked up some stuff at the Stop & Shop,” Jack said. “You want to join us?”
“No, thank you.” He crossed the room to lean against the counter near Star and noted the increase in her heart rate with a degree of satisfaction. “I apologize for the lack of rations. I’ll have some brought in for the morning.”
“Cool,” Wendy said. “Thanks.”
Star maneuvered around him to deliver glasses to the table, almost but not quite touching him. His fingers itched to reach for her, and a dull ache started at the base of his canines. He tried his best to ignore it.
“And your vehicle?”
“We had to order a fuel line,” Jack said. “Should be in tomorrow. Won’t take long to install.”
And then you leave.
Star glanced up from the table, met his gaze, and looked away.
Disappointment settled in his gut. Now he knew their plan. He should, by all rights, be happy to be getting his privacy back.
For some inexplicable reason, he wasn’t.
“Well,” he said, straightening. “I leave you to your meal and wish you all smooth sailing.”
Without looking back, he left the kitchen, anxious to get away from emotions better left unexamined. He’d long since abandoned loneliness, and had no intention of letting it back into his life.
No, he would take to the woods and taste the freedom of the night. He enjoyed the sounds of owls rising from low branches and bats overhead. He would savor the salt water in the air and let it wash away thoughts of this strange mortal woman.
His sense of restlessness had done nothing but increase since his visit to the Tangled Net. Perhaps Cassandra was close.
Benjamin slung his cloak over his shoulders and pulled the front door shut behind him.
“You feeling okay?”
Star glanced at Wendy and nodded. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Her heart still raced from being so close to Benjamin. Now when she saw him, she pictured him leaning over her to kiss her, taking her in his arms.
Insane.
“Think we’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow?” she asked Jack.
He shrugged and exchanged a meaningful look with Kyle. “Maybe.”
Star narrowed her eyes. “What do you have planned?”
“We have to put the fuel line in, that’s all. Sometimes that isn’t as easy as it looks.” He tried his innocent look on her, but it didn’t work. “Besides, it won’t hurt my feelings to stay here a few days while we work on it.”
“You’re going to take stuff, aren’t you?”
Jack turned his attention to his bowl of chili.
“Don’t,” she said.
“He won’t miss it,” Kyle said. “Look at this fucking place, will you?”
The thought of stealing from Benjamin had grown from distasteful to downright rotten. But how would she stop them? If she told Benjamin and he called the cops, they’d all be in trouble.
A feeling of dread skipped up her spine. Jones always said he had connections with cops all over the country. Had he just been blowing smoke, or did he really know cops in Boston? If they picked her up, would he be the one to bail her out? Chances were good he’d be pissed that she’d taken off in the middle of the night. In his mind, it didn’t seem to matter that he’d been screwing around; she was still supposed to be his girlfriend. What the hell had she seen in him in the first place?
After polishing off the chili and halfheartedly cleaning up, the other three padded off to bed. They’d spent half the day walking to and from the gas station, and had then exercised, as Wendy called it. Star wasn’t the least bit tired. She’d spent most of the day sitting in the tower, daydreaming.
She washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away, then wandered back to the main room where she drew a book, Call of the Wild, from the shelf and blew off the dust. She settled onto a sofa directly in front of the painting of the ship, opened the book, and began to read.
The story quickly drew her in. She had no idea how long she’d been reading when the front door swung open.
Star jumped, spilling the book from her lap. “Dammit.” She spun around as she snatched the book from the floor, but forgot to be annoyed when she caught sight of Benjamin.
He shrugged off his cloak and hung it up as he stared at her. His hair was wind-blown and a stark contrast to the white shirt he wore. Black pants hugged muscular thighs, and his boots once again glistened with water, although it wasn’t raining. He strode toward her and all the air seemed to disappear from the room.
“It appears I’ve interrupted your reading,” he said. “Forgive me.”
She held the book at her side. “No big deal.”
“No?” Benjamin stopped two feet in front of her and glanced at the book, then continued on to the cold fireplace where he knelt. “Mr. London told quite exciting tales.”
In a few short moments, he had a fire roaring in the fireplace and stood, turning to face her. It had taken her half an hour to figure out how to get a fire started in the guest room, and it never had roared.
“Have the others retired?”
“Yeah.”
“I see. And you chose to read instead.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t tired.”
He frowned and looked around as if studying new surroundings. “I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior. Please forgive me.”
He