Page 24 of Beneath My Skin

CHAPTER 7

I had exactly two-point-seven-five seconds to experience the absolute terror of the unknown before a knock sounded at the door.

Dax slipped back down into his chair and closed his eyes. “If you’re going to get that, then be careful.”

“I don’t suppose Jacqueline would take the time to announce herself?” I asked lightly.

“No, she wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean she has no resources. She could easily send someone else to intimidate or trick you.”

“I’ll go check.”

“Mar—”

“Dax, I’m fine,” I insisted. Trying to sound sure. Confident. Sturdy. Even though my knees were shaking.

I took mincing steps toward the front and the insistent knocks. A glance through the peephole had me stifling a groan. “Aunt Lynn, this is…not a good time,” I said through the door.

“Mariella, I know where you keep the key, and I will let myself in if you don’t open this door.” Lynn was not amused. She stood on my front stoop tapping her foot, her helmet hair thick and unwavering in the brisk winter breeze. The snow didn’t bother her.

“Please,” I begged. “Please come back later. Any time as long as it’s not now.”

Lynn shouldered her bag and I watched her reach down beneath the fake rock. “You are some kind of insane,” she muttered.

I heard her clearly and knew nothing I said could persuade her to leave. Whatever she wanted with me, it was better to get it over with. As long as I kept her out of the kitchen. I so didn’t want to explain a bleeding djinn sewed up like a rag doll. “Okay, fine. I’ll open the door.”

“Finally.” She pushed past me the second I had the knob pulled. “I’m on my way to Luke’s school for a parent–teacher conference and I don’t have much time to waste.”

“Yes, hi, nice to see you. Now please leave.” I hurried after her, choking on a cloud of perfume.

“I feel bad about kicking you out of the house the other day,” she called out over her shoulder. Sniffing when she looked around at my living room—small and clean—and found it not to her liking.

“You didn’t kick me out. I left. There’s a difference. Just like you didn’t kick me out when I was eighteen. You politely told me to have a nice life,” I replied. Then found, once I started with the hand-wringing, I couldn’t stop.

“Take the apology and let’s move on, shall we?”

“I didn’t hear an apology.”

“I came to return this.” Lynn fished in her bag and removed the blood-and-guts video game I’d gotten for Luke. “It is entirely inappropriate, Mariella, and I think you knew that when you bought it.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But can we do this another time? Any other time?”

“I think you owe me an apology for bringing such filth into my house.”

“I owe you an apology?” I asked in surprise. “You have to be kidding me.”

Her eyes narrowed. She’d never liked when I talked back. Luckily, she hadn’t tried to beat the habit out of me. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“My tone is the least of my worries at the moment.”

Dax swaggered around the corner to save me. Yes, swaggered. I’d never seen that in real life and I have to say the effect was something magnificent. He was naked to the waist but had slung a kitchen towel casually over his shoulder to craftily hide the fresh wound. He was positively oozing virility. “Is there something wrong, sweetheart?”

This time I wasn’t concerned about his use of the affectionate term. Caught between rock-hard abs and chemically-stiff hair, I felt like I was out of options for escape. “I told you to stay where you were.” I worried the hem of my shirt.

“Sorry. I’m not good at taking orders.” He winked. “Hello, I’m Dax Parker.” He strode forward and the hand he held out was steady if pale. “I’m going to assume you’re Mariella’s Aunt Lynn.”

Just as I’d never seen a swagger until now, this was the first time I’d heard a woman titter. Lynn tittered and used the ends of her fingertips to fluff her hair. Or rather jab at it. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware you had guests.”

I supposed she was speaking to me. It was hard to tell, though, because her eyes became glued to my male friend.

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