Page 19 of Witch Moon

Leaning in. he brushed her lips with his. "I was supposed to bring you home, make you a nice dinner, see to it you had a relaxing evening."

"Rowan's idea?"

"She thinks so."'

"Make your calls," she said. "It smells like Rowan already started dinner. So while the two of you take care of this crisis, I'll go check on it. Okay?"

He nodded, drew one finger over her lips, and then sighing in regret, turned to finish dialing the phone.

Mirabella found her way to the kitchen on her own. But she felt cold inside despite the heat of the oven. She was on a runaway train, heading straight for disaster, and she was damned if she knew how to stop it in time.

Chapter 6

It was after ten by the time Bella finished helping Jonathon clean up from dinner and Rowan was settled into her bed, sleeping restlessly.

She sat beside him now, on a wicker love seat on the deck in back. Stars glittered by the thousands from a clear deep blue sky, and she wondered how death could lurk so near on such a beautiful night. The moon was nearly full, and it bore a rose-colored halo this night. That gave Mirabella pause. Her mother used to call that a Witch Moon, because of the red garter the moon appeared to wear. In some traditions, the red garter was still a symbol of the Craft. Bella's mother always said a red-ringed moon meant an added boost to a Witch's magickal powers. But others called that ruby halo "blood on the moon" and took it as a bad omen. A sign of danger.

Bella didn't know which belief was correct. Maybe both. Maybe the added danger made the boost of power necessary. Maybe that was why they came as one.

"You could stay, you know," Jonathon said softly.

She drew her gaze from the moon to look into his eyes.

"I didn't mean.... " He swallowed hard. "We have guest rooms."

She nodded. "If I stay I won't be in any guest room, Jonathon. And I think after what happened between us this afternoon, we both know it. Besides, I have some things I need to do tonight," she said, keeping her tone level with effort. It was difficult, out here, alone with him like this. She was finding herself more and more drawn to this man with every moment she spent near him. And that was dangerous. She knew it too well.

"Did I scare you off with that...that kiss?"

She lowered her head. "It was a little more than a kiss. If Rowan hadn't called, I...." She lowered her head, licked her lips. In her mind she saw them tearing at each other's clothes in her back yard. Making love, standing up, in broad daylight. It had been that frantic what had happened between them.

"I wish she hadn't called," he said, and his voice was coarse.

She lifted her head. His face was close. He bent to her, kissed her. And that heat began uncoiling inside her all over again.

He slid his mouth from hers, over her jaw, and to the tender skin of her neck. Bella tipped her head back and curled her fingers in his hair. His lips, his mouth and teeth on her skin...it was too good. Too wonderful to resist.

"I'll slow down if that's what you want." He murmured, lifting his head. His hand was at her blouse, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. "But tell me now." A button came loose. She didn't say anything. He undid another. And then his hand slipped inside her blouse, and inside her bra, and closed around her breast. His breath stuttered out of him as she sucked hers in at his touch. Callused skin. Warm and rough. "You're not saying anything," he whispered. He drew his thumb and forefinger together on her nipple.

So she said something. She said, "Do that again."

His smile was slow and deliciously devilish. He pinched again, harder this time, and she arched against him. He took her mouth, tugging the rest of the buttons free, and pushing the blouse aside. He took her bra off her, and bent to use his mouth where his hand had been. And it was such sweet torment to feel him suckling her, nipping and pulling as if he'd eat her alive.

He pulled her to the deck with him, pulled her down on top of him, and he was inside her.

Just that suddenly. They were one. Mirabella tipped her head back and rocked her body over his. And she knew in that instant just before she lost herself again to sensation, she knew that this was not simply sex. She was linked to this man. He would be her lover, or her executioner, her salvation or her ruin. Nothing in between.

She cried his name and fell against his chest. And he held her so gently, so lovingly.

"God, Mirabella, where the hell did you come from? How can this be?" he whispered into her hair. "How can it be?"

She kissed his neck, and his ear. "Our souls have danced before, Jonathon. And will again. What you feel right now is real. Hold onto it. Please."

Lifting her head slowly, she stared into his eyes, trying to see into his soul. "This...is real. Our souls know each other very well. But now...now we have to come back to the place we call reality the rest of the time. That place where you don't know me at all, and where you may not like me very much when you do."

"Not possible," he whispered. "Mirabella, I...."

"Shhh." She pressed a finger to his lips. "We need to talk, Jonathon."

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