Without warning, Morgan was pinned flat against the institutional green wall next to the shower, Ronan's huge wet hand splayed across her upper back, holding her motionless. She struggled against the unfamiliar weight.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Let me go.”

“Cease your movement,” Ronan commanded. His warm, damp fingers lifted the back of her shirt and she fought harder. “I will not hurt you. Remain still.”

Pulling downward, he tugged at the waistband of her jeans, stroking the skin at the small of her back. “You bear the mark,” he breathed.

Mark? What mark? Realization quickly dawned.

“It's just a tattoo.” Morgan's mother had warned her but she hadn't listened. She could hear her mother's voice now. Tattoos make you look easy.

Ronan traced the outline with his fingertip, following the path of interconnected circles and sending shivers through Morgan's body.“You are the keeper of the grail.”

“What?” She struggled to turn her head. “No! That's just the vesica pisces—the symbol of the Chalice Well in Glastonbury, England.” Great…if she remembered her mythology correctly, the Chalice Well was one
of the rumored resting places for the grail. After college she'd backpacked around Europe and had fallen in love with the town of Glastonbury. She'd felt a soul deep connection to the place and had the vesica pisces tattooed while she'd been there. Though her mother had complained, Morgan had never regretted it—until now.

Ronan continued to trace the mark, seemingly oblivious to the tremors of desire he sent through her. “I knew Merlin sent me to you for a reason,” he whispered.

Pulling harder on her pants, he bent to more closely inspect the design. His hot breath skated across her sensitized skin and a fresh rush of moisture dampened her core.

“Where is the grail, Morgan?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“You are its keeper,” he murmured as he brushed his calloused thumb back and forth over the design.

“No I'm not.”

He grunted his displeasure.

“Look,” she began. “I'm sorry that some crackpot guy told you that I had the answer to your problem, but he was wrong.”

“Remove your braes so I can better see the sigil.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “No.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes glittered with irritation. “I said, remove your braes.”

“And I said, no. It's not gonna happen.”

“Take them off or I will remove them myself.”

She craned her neck to get a better look at him. Fierce intent hardened his gaze and she shivered under his stare. Call her an idiot, but she wasn't frightened of him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. She wasn't sure,
however, about her jeans. He might just shred them to get what he wanted. And why did that perverse thought send bolts of tingling awareness to her cleft?

“I am waiting, Morgan.”

“Get used to it.”

He leaned to the side and reached for something. She followed his gaze. His sword? Panic beat like thunder in her chest and she struggled violently. Insinuating his knee between her thighs, he pressed his groin
against her ass and held her more securely against the wall. His granite hard cock was trapped between them and she fought the ridiculous urge to turn around.

“Cease woman. I will not hurt you.”

“Said the man with the bloodstained sword.” She drove her elbow into his stomach, feeling almost satisfied when he grunted.

Hearing the sound of metal against leather, she froze. She'd taught stage sword fighting long enough to recognize the sound of a blade leaving its sheath. She glanced at Ronan and the dagger he held. She hadn't noticed it on his belt earlier, but clearly it had been there.

“This is your last chance, lady. Will you show me or shall I use this?”

Morgan swallowed thickly and her fingers dropped to the waistband of her jeans and released the button and zipper. With shaking hands she slid her pants down—not quite over her ass but far enough for him to see the entire image.

The dagger clattered to the floor as he sank to his knees behind her. He skimmed his hands up the outsides of her thighs until he reached her waist and pulled fabric further from her body.

“Sweet Mother of God,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lower back and ass.

  



Tem tried to convince herself to move away from Gray. She didn’t need psychic abilities to know continuing down this road was a bad idea. His midnight blue eyes pulled at her like overwhelming tide pools. Try as she might she couldn’t look away. He’d said magic didn’t exist. Sure, it didn’t. He wielded it over her right now with nothing more than the indecipherable emotion in his gaze.

Forcing herself to take several huge steps backward she corked the vial of ruined potion and set it on the counter. She’d have to try again tomorrow morning but first, she needed to ground herself and settle her nerves. That wasn’t going to happen with Gray following her every move.

Sighing, she turned around. “Gray I really need you to leave. I’ve got a lot of work to do before tomorrow morning and I can’t concentrate when you’re hovering around and I really think it would be better if—”

“Temper?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Before Temperance could speak, Gray slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her against his chest. She took a deep breath only realizing her mistake when her sensitized breasts brushed across his shirt front. The candles around the room suddenly flared higher in tandem with her need.

Half-fearful of what she’d find, she raised her eyes to his and caught her breath. Searing intensity filled his expression as he stroked her neck with his work-calloused hand. Without warning, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth. This was no softly searching kiss, this was soul claiming greed. His arms tightened as he pressed her to his body, deepening the kiss, sweeping inside her mouth, stroking every inch of her.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she drew him closer, pushing against the hard planes of his glorious body. The moisture she’d successfully battled earlier, flooded back with a vengeance, readying her body for more. For him. He tunneled his fingers through her hair, tilting her head to give him better access. He dragged his lips from hers, along her jaw and over her neck leaving trails of desperate need in his wake. He inhaled deeply, as if he could pull her within him. “You smell so damn good.”

His words prodded some semblance of sanity to surface within her. “Shit!” Pushing at his chest, she shoved until he lifted his head.

“Hmm…” he rumbled. “That’s not the usual response to my kiss.” He lowered his face and began nipping at her collarbone. “Apparently, I need to work on it.”

“You don’t need to work on anything.” She shoved at his chest again. “It’s the spell, you idiot! You’d never want me if you weren’t under the influence of an enchantment.”

That got his attention. He frowned. “There’s no such thing as magic.” Undeterred, he resumed kissing her neck, sliding his hand from her waist up inside her loose top. His hands were so big and warm, stroking her back igniting a firestorm of want spiraling through her. He felt so good. She considered letting him continue, but the thought of the disappointment she’d see in his eyes when the spell wore off was the dose of reality she needed.

She tried to ignore the bliss of his mouth on her neck and his hard body pressing against her. “Gray—listen to me,” she choked out. “You interrupted the culmination of the spell. Instead of acting on Beth, it acted on me when it spilled.”

A slow, sexy smile curved his lips. “The only thing that was interrupted was us.”

Her knees turned to Jell-O and her stomach fluttered wildly. She was in so much trouble. Shaking her head, she tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast, his erection making itself known. Her traitorous body responded. It wanted Gray. A fresh rush of moisture damped her core and she squirmed in his arms, every nerve ending on high alert.

Expertly, he turned so her back was flat against the wall next to the couch and he pressed against her length. His hand slid over her hip to her waist and up higher to skim the outer curve of her breast. She shivered in response to the subtle caress.

“Gray, please…”

“I plan to Temper.” He flashed a wicked grin. “I promise, you’ll be very pleased.”

She needed to ground herself, to release the energy that bounded through her body and find a counter spell before something more than a kiss happened. Maybe if she reasoned with Gray. “You don’t want me.”

His eyes narrowed in provocation and she swallowed thickly.

“The hell I don’t,” he snapped.

“It’s just the effects of the spell. It should wear off soon.”

He continued to scowl at her but didn’t release her.

“Everything will be back to normal then,” she insisted.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck normal,” he growled.

She caught her breath at the anger in his tone.

“I’ve had a constant hard-on for you since high school and never could do a damned thing about it. He laid his forehead against hers, holding her gaze steady. “I think it’s about time to fix that.” His hand moved constantly under the back of her shirt, caressing her skin as if he craved the feel of her.

“When I jacked off, you were the star of every fantasy.” He punctuated his statement by thrusting his rock hard arousal against her mound. When she whimpered at the sensation, he did it again.

Closing her eyes, she imagined him wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking upward. While he was thinking of her. Although she highly doubted his daydreams included his sister’s pudgy friend, it was nice to hear.

“Are you picturing it?” he murmured against her lips. “Are you imagining what it was like? Every time I got myself off thinking about you?”

 

  



He opened the passenger door of a giant black SUV and leaned against it. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. Get in and I’ll take you home.”

“Gee, since you asked so nicely… No.”

“Becca…” The warning in his voice was unmistakable.

“I’m not getting in.” She looked over the vehicle in disgust. “Besides the fact that it’s got to be one of the least environmentally friendly vehicles on the road—”

He rolled his eyes but she continued.

“It’s also yours and you’ve got to be a complete fuck-wit if you think I’m going anywhere else with you. The field trip to the interrogation room was plenty, thanks.”

“Get in the damn truck.”

The commanding tone of his voice dampened her pussy in record time. How she was still able to get the hots for him after all he’d put her through today was mind-boggling. Maybe it was a stress response. Whatever it was, she needed to get home before she did something stupid and invite him back to finish what they’d started at Patrick’s wedding.

“Good night, detective,” she said as she turned away.

Grasping her wrist as she started to walk away, he tugged her back. “We’re not done.”

“If you’re not arresting me, then we’re done.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This started two years ago and it’s nowhere near finished.” This was the first time he’d actually mentioned their dance floor indiscretion.

She stepped back as far as she could with him still holding on to her and another thought occurred to her. “At the wedding, were you using me to try to get information about the Donallys? Is that what this is about? You think maybe I’ll tell you something new about this case if you seduce it out of me?”

Her heart sank. She’d thought he’d actually been attracted to her. And like a moron, she’d thought maybe he still was. The truth really did hurt.

He shook his head. “This is about you and me, granola—not the case.”

She blinked at him. “Did you just call me granola?”

“Yep.” The smile she hadn’t seen for two years appeared briefly and she melted a little inside.

“There is no you and me,” she murmured. No matter how much she might wish for the opposite. Why did she still have to want him after all of this? How could she still want him?

He yanked her flush against his body and locked his arm around her waist. She took a breath only to feel her pebbled nipples rasp against his chest. He lowered his head to hers and she couldn’t convince herself to pull away. Would it be so bad to give in to the desire simmering between them?

“Granola?” she asked, staring at him.

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re just like granola,” he murmured as he moved his lips along the line of her jaw. “A little salty.” He gently bit her earlobe and her hands convulsed on his shoulders. He took her mouth in a sweeping kiss, tasting every inch of her, his tongue toying with her piercing, before lifting his head. “And so sweet.”

Turning, he pinned her against the side of his SUV. The cool metal was a sharp contrast to the hot flesh of the man pressed against her body. She sighed into his mouth as he kissed her again. What a pushover she was, softening against him as soon as he kissed her. Her anger had evaporated or had at least turned to lust. Running her fingers through his dark, wet hair, she pulled him closer.

His big, rough hands stroked the bare skin of her back sending need rocketing through her. Rain soaked them making their skin slick and she fought the urge to strip his shirt from him right here on the street where anyone could see. Of course, it was pouring rain and they were mostly hidden by his vehicle and the buildings on either side of the alley but did she dare? She settled for sliding her hands up and under the wet fabric and exploring the taut muscles of his chest and back.

He groaned at her touch. “I’d forgotten how good you taste.”

He tugged at the strings of her halter top where it was secured around her neck.

“Jack…” She tried unsuccessfully to slap his hand away.

He held her motionless with those chocolate brown eyes—eyes that were no longer cold and distant. “I need more, Becca. I need to taste more of you.”

A fresh rush of moisture flooded her core at his words. When he looked at her like that, she needed him to taste more too. Lowering her hand she let him finish untying her top. Almost reverently, he bared her breasts to his eyes and the elements. Rain spattered her pebbled nipples as his heated gaze enveloped her.

He licked the moisture from her skin purposely avoiding her aching nipples. “Damn it, Jack! Don’t tease.”

Before she’d finished speaking he engulfed an aching peak in the scalding heat of his mouth, sucking hard. Clasping his head, she arched away from the truck keeping his mouth right where she wanted it. His lips tugged rhythmically at her breast and her womb pulsed needily in time with every glorious pull. Want cascaded through her body as she shuddered in his arms.

He groaned as he moved from one breast to the other. The sound was barely audible in the falling rain but the vibrations coursed through her body. At this rate, he’d have her coming with nothing more than his mouth on her nipples. He dragged his lips over her collarbone and nipped at it before continuing the climb along the column of her throat, back to her lips. The stubble on his face abraded her skin but she didn’t care. She wanted more.

As he kissed her, he bunched her skirt in his hands, dragging the fabric upward to bare her legs. This was no careful seduction, this was desperation pure and simple and Goddess did she understand that need. She fumbled with his belt, loosening it and yanking his zipper down and freeing the button at the waistband.

“You’d better have a condom, Jack.” She slid her hand inside his pants and wrapped her fingers around the thick, hot length of his cock.

He shuddered at her touch. “Jesus, Becca,” he breathed. He pulled her hand from his jeans and secured both of her wrists in his hand above her head. “Don’t,” he growled against her neck. “I’m too damn close.”

His rough voice scraped over her nerve endings and she took a shaky breath, inhaling the scent of warm male and cool rain.

“I don’t think you’re close enough,” she said, nipping at his lower lip before soothing it with her tongue.”

The rain fell faster running in rivulets over her bare skin as he ground his rock-hard cock against her mound. He took her mouth again as he slipped his free hand under her ass and lifted her, pulling her closer.

What was she doing? This was the man who refused to believe her. The one who’d hauled her down to the police station and questioned her for hours. He was also the man who’d haunted her dreams for the past two years. She couldn’t make herself push him away. Maybe this encounter with Jack was what she needed to move on with her life.

“More,” she demanded freeing her hands and shoving his shirt up.