Gratitude warmed Rose. He meant it. He’d actually let her use her magic and stay to get her story. “Have I told you what a special man you are, Brandon Goodfellow?”
His slow answering smile triggered a warmth of a different kind. “Not in the past seventeen years or so.”
She was half tempted to accept his generous offer, but this had gone past proving herself to him. She had to prove she could exist without using magic to herself. “I never thought I’d hear you say something even close to this, which makes me even more reluctant to refuse.”
“What?” He closed the distance between them. “Are you nuts? This is a win-win for you, Rose.”
“It would be, I agree, but I can’t do it.”
“Why not?” Anger mixed with his puzzlement.
“Because you dared me into this and we both know it. You were angry. I was angry.” Which had always been a dangerous situation for them.
“Which is why I admitted it was a stupid bet. Why stick with it?”
“I started out having to prove to you I could make it without my magic, but it’s gone beyond that. I have to prove it to me now, Brand. Until you forced me into this, I didn’t realize how much I did use my gift.”
His jaw tightened. “You have it to use. Might as well.”
“True.” But he still hated that she had it. “And I’ll use it again, but not now. This story I’m going to get like an ordinary person.”
He started to respond, then paused. When he finally spoke, she had the feeling it wasn’t what he’d originally meant to say. “What about your leaking magic? You’re risking your life by not using your power.”
“This was an isolated incident.” At least, she hoped it was. After all, how many people would wish to cure an entire ward? “I’ll be more careful and avoid people when possible.”
Rule number one—no hospitals.
“Will that be enough?”
“It’ll have to be.” His concern came through clearly and Rose smiled, enjoying the knowledge that he cared enough to be concerned. It had been a long time since she’d felt that. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Will you?” Brand ran his hand along the edge of her hair, his fingertips brushing her face. “You almost died, Rose.”
She had to swallow before she could answer, a quiver vibrating in her belly. “I should have known better. I won’t let it happen again.”
He shook his head. “You’re going to give me gray hair.”
Her chest tightened at the impact of his words. “I...” She had to stop and start over. “I come by it naturally. My father always tells my mother that.”
Brand’s eyes darkened, but his lips lifted in a half smile. “Knowing you and your mother, I completely understand.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders, holding her in place when she would have retreated. “What am I going to do with you?”
His gaze focused on her lips, completely stealing her breath away. Aching need crossed his face, but she barely had time to recognize it before he claimed her mouth with a ferocity that startled her.
His lips demanded a response—one she was only too willing to give, any resistance gone at the first touch of his sensual mouth. A person would be willing to die in order to have him revive her.
He crushed her to him, flattening her breasts against his chest, as he devoured her mouth with an expertise that turned her legs to Silly Putty. Brand’s kiss held a magic all its own—far superior to anything she possessed—and she succumbed to his spell.
Linking her arms around his neck, she met him kiss for kiss, wanting more, demanding more. Reason fled, overwhelmed by the ache building within her, the sensations flooding her mind and body.
He left her mouth and dotted kisses over her face and throat—feather-light touches that only added to her inner turmoil. She leaned back her head to allow him better access, her heart pounding so rapidly she feared it might jump from her chest.
In high school she’d always been envious—no, dammit, jealous—when he was linked with other girls. She’d imagined him kissing them like this, but the reality eclipsed her daydreams. His kiss managed to say more than any words—communicating his desire, his need, while making Rose feel as if she were the only woman in the world he would give it to.
When he cupped her breasts, she gasped, his touch creating a larger shock than being hit by lightning. Her breast swelled, filling his palm, the nipple pebbling, aching for more.
To her surprise, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her gently away from him. Dropping his hands, he took a step backward. “Go, Rose. Go now before we both regret it.”
The huskiness of his voice plucked at the taut strands of need inside her. She wanted to go back to him, to experience that devastating kiss again, but slowly his words reached the small part of sanity that remained.
Regret? Her body insisted there would be no regret, but her mind couldn’t deny it. She was here to reveal his secrets, not make love with him. Brand was a complication she didn’t need in her already chaotic life.
Rose swallowed and backed toward the door, unable to look away from his blazing gaze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hating his look of pain.
He gave a rough laugh. “Not nearly as much as I am.” With obvious effort he turned back to face the windows. “The bus leaves in the morning,” he added.
“I’ll be there.” She wasn’t going to give up now despite the small voice in her head that screamed at her to run as far away as she could get.
Fleeing his room, she told herself she wasn’t running from Brand or the incredible pleasure he could provide. No, it was worse, for she could never escape. Not from herself. Not from the sudden need to take what Brand offered.
She’d never wanted a man, never needed a man. Being Fae, she knew better than to fall for someone who would age and die while she remained eternally young. And especially not someone like Brand, who still resented her magic, no matter what he said. Yet she couldn’t deny how alive he made her feel, the ache boiling in her gut.
Damn Brand. He was going to mess up her life.
Reaching her room, she closed the door and leaned against it. Going to mess up her life?
Hell, he already had.
The moment Rose stepped from her room in the morning, Sequoia enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug. “How are you? Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I was so dumb.”
Sequoia’s words tumbled out, overrunning each other, until Rose laughed. How like her cousin. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, Tree. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You sure? You’re okay?”
“Positive.” True, Rose hadn’t been able to sleep after returning to her room, but considering she’d just slept about fifteen hours, she wasn’t concerned with that. And she did feel fine—energetic and ready to go. As far as she could tell, she’d suffered no lasting ill effects as a result of the previous day’s episode.
“But I feel so responsible....”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Rose hugged her cousin’s shoulders. “Neither of us knew what would happen. I was fortunate that Ewan was there.” She grimaced. “I guess I owe him a thank-you. Is he around?”
A strange look drifted across Sequoia’s face. “I don’t know. He disappeared last night and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Not a great loss.” Though she did owe him a sincere debt of gratitude, Rose didn’t want to argue any more over going to the magical realm, which he’d undoubtedly insist was the payment for her life.
“Yeah.” Sequoia agreed, but her tone and expression reflected just the opposite.
Rose frowned. Was Tree actually falling for him? “You all right?” She was going to have to explain to Sequoia about the Fae sensuality. They exuded it naturally and looked upon lovemaking as an extracurricular activity. Few even grasped the concept of commitment.
“I’m fine.” Sequoia produced a faint smile. “Want some breakfast?”
Rose shook her head. “We need to get going or we’ll be late for the bus.” She still preferred transporting to walking from place to place, but traveling with Brand was doing great things for her legs.
“We’ve plenty of time. You’re actually early for a change.”
Lifting one eyebrow, Rose grinned. “I’d rather play it safe.” Especially after last night. Brand would want her to leave. A part of her wanted to flee as well.
But she had a story to get—a story that was becoming more difficult to do every day. But she would get it. All she had to do was resist the temptation Brand provided.
Yeah, easier said than done.
Just thinking about his kiss made her go achy and tingly. Not a good sign.
Even worse, her heart skipped a beat when she saw Brand standing on the bus steps. He produced a welcoming smile as they approached, and she found herself automatically smiling in return.
“It’s about time you two showed up,” he said.
“Hey, we’re not late,” Sequoia protested.
“Almost.” He waved them inside. “I have breakfast ready.”
“Breakfast?” He cooked? Rose smelled cinnamon rolls and bacon as soon as she entered the bus. “What’s going on?”
“I knew you’d be better off not dining around other people,” Brand said over his shoulder as he led back to the table. “And I also knew you’d be here, so I ordered breakfast to go.” He opened the white Styrofoam containers on the table to reveal masses of pancakes, hash browns, eggs, cinnamon rolls, bacon, and sausage. “Think I got enough?”
“How many you expecting to feed?” Sequoia asked. “The entire crew?”
“Just us.” Brand waved them into seats and placed glasses of juice before them. “And Carter, though I’m willing to bet after the partying he did last night, he’s not going to be much company today.”
Rose’s stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. She spooned piles of food onto her plate. “Looks just about right to me. Come on, Tree. Dig in.”
They’d all served themselves and were eating heartily when Carter stumbled onto the bus, his eyes red, his chin unshaven, his face pale.
“Looks like the living dead do exist,” Sequoia murmured.
“Want some breakfast, Carter?” Brand asked.
Carter’s complexion took on a slight green shade as he shook his head. “I think I’ll just sleep a while longer.” With a halfhearted attempt at a smile, he staggered over to a far couch and stretched out upon it. Within moments his light snores were the only sign of life.
“Just as well.” Rose was anxious to share the idea she’d developed during her hours of early morning contemplation. “I think I know a way to solve my leaking magic.” She glanced over her shoulder as the driver came in, then set the bus in motion. “Will he hear us?” she whispered.
“Doubtful. It’s pretty noisy in here,” Brand said.
Sequoia spoke around a mouthful of hash browns. “What’s your idea?”
“I’ve noticed that if several wishes are done close together, they become less accurate, sort of diluted.” She clearly recalled her dress reappearing much shorter than it had started, and from the slow smile on Brand’s face, so did he.
“What if the leakage has a finite amount of magic?” she continued.
Sequoia stopped eating. “Huh?”
“What if my magic has to build to a certain level to start leaking?” Rose built a dam with her pancakes, then poured syrup into the pool until it overflowed. “Right now, my magic is being pulled from me. I think each wish drains some of the backup off.”
She spooned the syrup out of the pool. “One wish. Two wish. Three wish.”
Brand nodded, watching her closely. “Go on.”
“Perhaps by making several wishes in a row, you can drain my leaking magic out so that it won’t work for a while.” Rose couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice. If this worked, she’d be able to operate almost normally for the duration of this story.
“For how long?” Sequoia asked.
“I don’t know.” Never having experienced anything like this before, Rose was operating on conjecture and slim logic. “I was thinking you could make a wish every hour until my magic stops working until it kicks in again. Then we’ll know.”
Brand lifted his glass to Rose. “That’s actually a good idea.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” Rose wrinkled her nose at him. “If you’re both willing, we could try it now. My guess is bigger wishes will drain it faster than smaller wishes.”
Sequoia frowned. “What’s the difference?”
“A big wish is something like sending that family to Disney World. I felt that power leave me. A small wish is something like...say, wishing for Aunt Lizzie’s coffee cake.”
“Oh, yes.” Sequoia practically drooled. “My mom’s coffee cake. I wish for Mom’s coffee cake, fresh from the oven, right here, right now.”
Rose barely felt the pull at her magic, but the item appeared on the table, steam rising from the pan. Sequoia didn’t hesitate to dig into it. “Oh, Lord, it’s warm.”
Rose didn’t hesitate to follow her cousin’s lead. Her aunt’s coffee cake was exceptional and requested for every family gathering. And Rose had missed many family gatherings in the past few years.
She closed her eyes at the explosion of butter and cinnamon on her tongue. “Oh, my, it’s heaven. Try some, Brand.”
As he took a piece, she waved her sticky hand at him. “Your turn.”
He shook his head. “I prefer to avoid making wishes.” The tone of his voice made Rose frown, but he didn’t look as if he were angry with her. “Okay, then, Sequoia, go on.”
“I wish for a pitcher of cold milk. Two percent. And three glasses.”
As the pitcher and glasses appeared, Rose sighed. She was hardly feeling the effect of these wishes. “It’s going to take forever at this rate.”
“Then we’ll count how many small wishes it takes.” Sequoia continued to make simple requests, but on her fourth try she only received eight red roses instead of the dozen she’d wished for.
Her fifth wish for a vase to put them in resulted in a shapeless lump of glass, and her sixth wish went unanswered, as Rose expected when she felt absolutely nothing tug at her.
“Well, now we know.” Rose beamed. It had worked. Six small wishes could deplete the backlog. “Now you can make a wish every hour until it comes true so we know how long it takes to build up again.”
“Very clever, Rose.”
Brand’s approval warmed Rose. It had been a long time since he’d told her anything like that. “I had to come up with something. It was too dangerous to run around leaking. Who knows what someone could wish for?”
“Exactly.” Brand met her gaze, the intensity of his reminding her of his concern last night. “Now you should be safe.”
“As well as everyone around me.” She grinned and his answering smile spoke more clearly than words. He understood. He cared.
Her internal alarm went off as something soft weakened her defenses. Danger. Danger. This wouldn’t do.
Lowering her gaze, Rose devoted herself to her plate. “Yum. Good.”
With the meal finished and the table cleaned, they all retired to the easy chairs and couch, groaning about how much they’d eaten. “I think Carter has the right idea.” Brand stretched out on the couch.
“Slug,” Rose muttered, envying him the couch. She couldn’t sprawl nearly as comfortably in the chair.
“It’s going to be a long drive to Dallas. Why not sleep through some of it?” With that, he closed his eyes.
“Actually that sounds great.” Sequoia was petite enough to fit in her chair, but even with trying to tuck her feet beneath her, Rose couldn’t relax enough to sleep.
“Fine, you guys go ahead and sleep without me,” she muttered.
Brand cracked open one eye. “Want to share?” He pushed against the back of the couch leaving a sliver of space beside him.
For a moment Rose was tempted. To feel his hardness against her again, to smell the scent of his aftershave, to touch...She shook her head vehemently. “I’ll be fine right here.”
His crooked smile twisted her gut. “Coward. Suit yourself.”
Closing his eyes again, he drifted off into rhythmic breathing, Sequoia only a minute ahead of him. Rose grimaced, set her watch for one hour, then stared out the window, struggling to keep her gaze off Brand’s slumbering form.
Even asleep, he was handsome, with a relaxed innocence that reminded her of the boy he’d once been—loyal, caring, steadfast with a total devotion to the art of illusion. What fates had directed that desire in his life? Had they known she would one day develop the power he longed for?
She yawned, smothering it with her palm. Had the fates ordained that she would lose her best friend over something neither of them could control?
Stupid fates.
She yawned again, then slept.
Her watch alarm woke her up, jarring her from the fringes of a dream she wanted to rediscover. Jabbing the alarm into silence, she went to shake Sequoia.
“Hey, Tree. Time for a wish.”
“Go ’way,” her cousin mumbled.
“Come on. Just one quick wish.”
“I wish Ewan was here.” Sequoia rolled onto her side and retreated into a slumber again while Rose stared at her.
Thank goodness that wish hadn’t come true. They were better off without Titania’s messenger in their midst. No doubt he was off conjuring up some sort of spell to trick Rose to return with him.
Or he was planning to use Sequoia to force Rose into compliance.
Rose narrowed her eyes. Tonight she’d have a long talk with her cousin and clear up this infatuation. Ewan was bad news and Sequoia needed to realize that.
After a couple of hours Brand and Sequoia awakened, though Carter continued to snooze away. As the bus covered the miles to their destination, Brand, Sequoia, and Rose reminisced over their childhood days, pausing each hour to let Sequoia make some crazy wish.
At six hours and counting since last magic, nothing yet had happened, which thrilled Rose. The longer, the better. She’d be able to attend Brand’s show now without fear of her magic being used.
Sequoia sighed and gazed out the window at the passing scenery. “I’m already getting tired of being on this bus. Can we stop for dinner, Brand?”
“Definitely. I expect we’ll reach Dallas about midday tomorrow. We’ll pull in somewhere tonight for a rest.”
Rose stood and stretched. “At least the bus is comfy. It could be worse.”
“Oh, I know.” Sequoia gave a wry grin. “I just don’t like the riding part of it. I want to be where I’m going now.”
Brand chuckled. “Some things never change.”
“Hey, I used to get car sick, you know. I’ve never enjoyed driving.” She sighed. “I just wish we were there now instead of having to drive for another day.”
Rose felt the pull on her magic even before the driver cried out, “What the hell?”
They all turned toward him. “What is it, Gary?” Brand asked.
“Last sign I saw said Dallas six hundred twenty-seven miles. This one says ten miles. That can’t be.”
Brand and Rose exchanged glances. It could very well be. As one they focused on Sequoia.
She grimaced. “Oh, crap.”