Inevitable. Michelle Rowen

sorry for you. It’s not going to happen. You made your choices and I made mine.”

      “Did you ever feel anything for me?” He searched her face.

      Dangerous question. “You’re the empath. You tell me.”

      His lips curved at the edges. “Humor me.”

      Humor him. She wasn’t sure why she would want to do something like that.

      “Okay, you really want to know?” She exhaled shakily and her grip on the glass bottle tightened until the sharp edges bit into her skin. “Whatever I might have felt for you in the past was swept away the moment you decided that being my partner at PARA was not as good as making some easy cash on the side. You had a good life and some great friends—especially me—and you threw it all away. We knew each other a year, Ryan. You were my partner. I trusted you with—” Her voice caught and she cleared her throat. “Quite honestly, at this very moment I just want you to go away and stay gone. I really never wanted to see you again.”

      The words poured out of her mouth in a gush and he stood there letting her have her say. The look on his face, although partially hidden, stiffened with every word she uttered. His reaction bothered her, she couldn’t help it.

      Because, bottom line, six months ago—even after he started dating Charlotte—she’d been well on her way to falling in love with him. And he’d broken her heart. So she’d stuffed those feelings down deep and tried not to pay any attention to them. But seeing him tonight—the realization that she was far from over him was not a comfort in any way, shape, or form. Actually, it made her want to cry.

      Finally, a glimmer of a smile, although now lacking any humor, touched Ryan’s lips. “I guess it can’t get much more clear than that, can it?”

      She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You said you had a secret you wanted to tell me?”

      “Forget it. Suddenly I’m not in much of a mood for sharing.”

      “Then I’m going to go. Goodbye, Ryan.”

      “Goodbye, Emma.”

      She took a deep breath and began to walk past him. She had a feeling that after tonight, she’d never see him again. It would be for the best—for both of them.

      “Wait…before you go—” He reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her. The bottle Xavier had given her earlier jerked and the loose-fitting top flew off. The clear, oily liquid within spilled over the lip of the bottle and splashed them both.

      “Damn.” She rubbed her hand against her dress, then grabbed for the stopper and quickly put it back in place.

      “What is that stuff?” Ryan asked. He brought his fingers to his temples as if he’d suddenly developed a headache.

      The temperature in the room felt as if it had just shot up about twenty degrees. A wave of dizziness swept through her. She pressed her hand to her face. “PARA business. It’s the reason I’m here in the first place.”

      He frowned. “So that means it’s not just any bottle. What’s inside of it?”

      “Xavier said it was something he’d gotten in London. Some sort of mood enhancing potion, but it doesn’t work properly. He called it Desidero.”

      He gaped at her. “Did you say Desidero?”

      The look of surprise on his face didn’t help calm her nerves. “Yes.”

      He grimaced. “Uh, oh.”

      She stared at him. “Uh, oh, what?”

      “You’re sure that’s what he said? Desidero potion?”

      “Positive, but he says it doesn’t work. You know what it is?”

      “I worked a few weeks in the potions division when I started at the agency, before I was assigned as your partner. It was part of my training. Desidero was one of the potions I learned about.” He looked at the bottle she held. “Mood enhancement, huh? I guess it’ll kick in any second now.”

      “What will kick in?”

      He shook his head. “A whole lot of trouble.”

      “He said it didn’t work properly.”

      “Oh, it’s working, all right. I can feel it right now.” He rubbed his temples again.

      Her entire body felt flushed. Maybe she was having an allergic reaction to it. “Do I have to get violent to make you spit out what you know?”

      Ryan hissed out a breath through his teeth. “It’s a lust potion, Emma. An old one from the British Isles. There’s a legend that says that this is the potion that Guinevere was given to make her fall in love with King Arthur, but it didn’t work quite that smoothly. You know what happened with Lancelot, right? She fell for him instead. It’s this potion’s fault. And, no, it doesn’t work on everyone which is why Franklin thought it was a dud. Some mood enhancer. He has no idea.”

      Her mouth dropped open. “Guinevere and Lancelot?”

      “You got it.”

      A lust potion. That would explain why she suddenly felt so warm. Why her body had begun to tingle. Why her nipples had tightened. Why her belly twisted with a strange and difficult to ignore need. Why she desperately wanted Ryan’s hands on her as soon as possible. “Lustful for…?”

      He smiled, but it was shaky. “Well, I guess that would be me.”

      “You?”

      “We were together when it spilled on us.” His gaze, now heated, swept her body as he drew closer. “It’s rare and dangerous stuff.”

      A shiver went down her spine. “There’s some left. If you stole it, you could get a lot of money for something like this.”

      “I could. If I stole it.”

      Her breath came quick, and Ryan’s mouth was suddenly the main focus of her entire world. “I feel an irresistible need to kiss you right now. Which is incredibly inconvenient considering how much I hate you,” she whispered.

      “I thought you said you were indifferent to me. Put down the bottle before you break it. If any more of that stuff spills, we might have a larger problem to deal with here.”

      Instead of arguing, she placed the green glass bottle down on a table next to the couch and dropped her purse to the floor. “So…now what do we do?”

      She felt his gaze on her like a brand. It slid over her breasts and stomach, and her insides tightened with desire.

      “Kiss me,” he suggested.

      Her heart pounded hard. “Bad idea.”

      “You’re afraid what might happen?”

      “Yes.”

      He had the audacity to smile at her. “See, I knew you knew words other than no, Em.”

      “I need to get out of here.” But she didn’t move. They were alone in the library of Xavier Franklin’s mansion with a party going on outside the heavy closed doors. She could hear it—the voices, the laughter, the band playing some up-tempo but classical number.

      “So despite you telling me a minute ago that you’re indifferent to me,” Ryan said, “what you’re now saying is that you hate me.”

      She nodded. “I can’t stand you.”

      “But you still want to kiss me.”

      Yes. She needed to kiss him, to do more than just kiss him. To feel Ryan’s hands on her, his hot skin beneath her fingertips. To feel him sliding inside of her, filling her the way she’d always fantasized about. Even in the months that he’d been out of her life, she’d still dreamed about having him in her bed.

      Damn.

      It was Emma