Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter

played with the areas in question.

      “Jorlan, I—” Katie paused. Closed her eyes. Opened them.

      In an instant of time, a mere heartbeat, the passionate haze evaporated from her features, leaving an expression that read: I’d rather burn in the fires of Hel la Fir than continue.

      “No,” she said, pushing away. Her breath was ragged and unsteady. “No. We have to stop.”

      Sweat beaded on his brow. “Is that truly what you want?” He knew it wasn’t and reached for her. One more kiss, one more touch, and he could send them both through the corridors of paradise.

      With a squeal, she swatted his hands away. “Stop. We have to stop.” There was still a breathless, husky quality to her tone. “We’re outside in full view of the world, for God’s sake.”

      He flashed his teeth in a scowl. “Did I not please you?” he demanded. “Did I not make your body hunger for more?”

      Instead of answering his question, she said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not ready for this.”

      “Give me two minutes, and I will make you ready.” He let his voice drop to a seductive whisper, a feat that required his full concentration. “Let me, katya. Let me have you, and I swear to Elliea you will enjoy every moment of it.” He’d never begged for anything in his life, but he was perilously close to dropping to his knees and pleading with her to accept him.

      “I know I’ll enjoy every moment,” she breathed. “Believe me, I do.”

      He thought he had her then; he even reached out and wrapped his palms around her waist, but she shook her head, darted away, and said gently, “No.” Then with more force, “No. Not here. And not now.”

      He cursed under his breath. “Why do you fight so hard against what you feel?”

      She glanced away. “I don’t think you truly want to hear my answer.”

      “You will tell me anyway.”

      “You want to know. Fine.” Anger sparked in her eyes, and she faced him again. “I’m not sure I even like you. You’re bossy and arrogant, and you refuse to answer the simplest questions about yourself unless I nag you.”

      “Whatever you wish to know about me, I will gladly tell you. After.”

      “No! Yesterday I was a necessary burden to you, and now I’m supposed to melt at your feet because you’re a great kisser? No!”

      Jorlan shoved a hand through his hair. Women had their place. And this one belonged directly under him. Katie might deny her attraction to him, but he would spend every one of the next thirteen days overcoming such false resistance. And false it was, he had no doubt. The woman came alive in his arms, like a molten river erupting from a mountain.

      But by the holy laws, such a contrary female annoyed him. Why couldn’t she be like the complacent, unassuming women he was used to? A woman who rarely strayed from what she was told? Jorlan knew how to deal with that type of female. But this one…

      “You want me, katya. Think you I cannot smell your desire?”

      Her jaw dropped. Closed with a snap. “What you’re smelling is last night’s turkey sandwich,” she growled. Then her face flushed with embarrassment, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d just said.

      “If you use your tongue as expertly in bed as you do to turn me away, a man would die quite happily in your arms.” With barely a breath, he added crossly, “You do realize, do you not, that your stubbornness punishes us both?”

      The golden amber of her eyes hardened with anger. “I could very easily toss you on your ass. Again! How’s that for punishment?”

      “You are most welcome to try and fight me.” He almost wished she would, so that he could allow her to win. The thought of her standing over him, chest heaving…He sliced that image to a close, knowing it would do him no good now.

      “Look,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I haven’t had my protein shake this morning, so I’m in a bad mood. Let’s just forget this ever happened and go eat breakfast. Like I said, we’ll find you another psychic tomorrow.”

      Forget? Long would the image of her passion-glazed features remain in his mind. Long would the sweet taste of her linger in his mouth. Forgetting their kiss wasn’t an option for him, and it infuriated him that the little witch thought she could so easily push him from her thoughts. He almost ripped the clothes from her body then and there so that he could brand his touch upon her as she had done him—an eternal brand that would haunt her long after he’d left her.

      “Nay,” he finally said. “We will search for another sorcerer now.”

      “If you give me another day, I can do some research and hopefully we’ll bypass all the frauds.”

      He watched her through lowered lids for a long while. “Very well. I will go with you to find nourishment, but do not think for one moment that I am finished with you. Next time, I will not release you until we are both weak with pleasure.”

      UNTIL I’M ALONE, I will not think about our kiss. I will not think about our kiss.

      Katie made her way through the restaurant, muttering those words under her breath with every step. Crackling voices and the tantalizing aroma of fresh, gourmet coffee wafted around her. Lights were dimmed for effect and the walls were painted a rich toffee brown.

      She’d discovered the place the day she closed on the Victorian. She’d come here every morning since. The food was decent, the protein shakes divine and the employees entertaining.

      She adored the place.

      Frances, a middle-aged waitress who liked to bash the male species with anyone who would listen, was Katie’s favorite.

      “Hey, doll,” Frances called when she noticed her. “I’ll be right with you.”

      Katie slid into the only available booth. The shiny purple vinyl squeaked with the movement. Jorlan folded his long legs beside her, and scooted until their sides were touching. His weapon—aka: the spatula—had to be digging into his skin, but he was too entranced with the goings-on around him to notice the discomfort.

      A family of four sat to their right, arguing over the need for chocolate this early in the morning. Katie agreed with the kids; there was never a bad time for chocolate. A silver-headed man was just in front of her, trying to eat his eggs and read his paper at the same time. It wasn’t working. To her left was a young woman who was a regular patron of the place. The girl was in her early twenties, had rumpled red hair, two dimples in her cheeks and breasts the size of watermelons. Katie’s own sun-ripe tomatoes paled in comparison, and she resisted the urge to slump her shoulders.

      Today the girl wore a pair of baggy jeans and a plain, oversized T-shirt. Every couple of seconds, she shivered as if a block of ice surrounded her. Delicate and pretty, she should have radiated happiness. She didn’t. The lines of fatigue and sadness around her eyes and mouth made her appear ancient.

      As if sensing her scrutiny, she sparked a glance in Katie’s direction. Their gazes collided. Dark-brown eyes narrowed a split second before the girl looked away. Then that chocolate gaze swung back to Katie, this time with purpose, and moved pointedly on to Jorlan. Something exotic and knowing flashed in the girl’s eyes, making her appear fresher and utterly beautiful. A foreign emotion swam through Katie as she turned in time to see Jorlan return the silent greeting.

      Katie fisted her hands and stayed the urge to launch over the table, a catapult of kicking legs and swinging arms. Deep breath in; deep breath out. This isn’t jealousy, she assured herself. Jorlan was her responsibility, and she had to look out for his best interests.

      “Do you know her?” Jorlan asked, indicating the brown-eyed girl.

      “No. Why do you ask?” Katie’s hands flexed more tightly. A muscle cramp, nothing more.

      Jorlan