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  Oh, wise up, girl! There were no excuses. She’d allowed hormones and the rather prolonged sex-free spell in her life to get the upper hand. Honestly, who could blame her for taking full advantage of the gorgeous guy who’d been more than willing to screw her till she was reduced to a quivering mass of orgasmic nerve-endings? It was something modern women did all the time. And as Sam frequently insisted, it was just sex. Really, really, incredibly great, mind-blowing sex, but just sex all the same. Nothing to wig out over.

  So why had her heart been shredded into teeny tiny pieces when Wulf had untangled himself from her and stepped from the shower without a backward glance? Why did she feel so bereft by the sneaking suspicion that now she’d given him what he wanted, he would disappear back to wherever the hell he came from?

  The door to the bathroom opened and Chalcey reached out to tweak the shower curtain closed. That was her, modest and all. Nothing like closing the stable door after the Wulf had bolted.

  “You in there, Chalce?” Sam asked.

  “Yep. Won’t be a moment. Just—” she fumbled for an excuse “—washing my hair.” Silence reigned. Figuring that she might as well authenticate her lie she grabbed the shampoo, crawled to her feet and slopped goop onto her hair.

  “Wulf sent me in to see if you were okay. He mentioned you might need a towel.”

  “Oh, he’s still here?” He hadn’t just used her for sex and taken off. She hugged the knowledge tightly to her heart. Not that it made the slightest bit of difference, she told herself sternly. She was still kicking him out on his sculpted backside as soon as she’d fed him.

  “Of course he’s still here,” Sam said. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

  “I, uh, thought he would have— Oh, never mind.”

  A muffled sigh was her only warning before Sam yanked back the curtain. She pinned Chalcey with cat-like green eyes that examined every little nuance of her expression.All seeing. All knowing.

  Chalcey did a full-body blush and cringed. She didn’t have a chance. “Jeez. Quit with the x-ray vision, will you? You’re making me feel like I’m the latest viewing attraction at the bloody zoo.” She adjusted the water temperature, making it cooler to counteract the heat of her humiliation.

  “So. You and Wulf got it on. You go, girl!” Sam had a huge smirk on her face—the kind proud moms got when their kids had done something extra special. Anyone would think she’d planned this whole encounter.

  Chalcey decided her best chance of getting out of this with a smidgeon of dignity was to brazen it out. “I would have thought that was patently obvious when you came in before. And I’m sure you’re thrilled that my sexual drought is over. In fact—” her voice wobbled only the teensiest bit “—now I know what I’m missing, I think I’ll fuck strange men more often.” Warming to her I-just-fucked-a-hot-guy-so-what? theme, she muttered, “Can’t believe I’ve spent so many years wedded to vibrators when I could have been screwing the real thing.”

  Sam smacked her forehead with her palm, apparently not buying Chalcey’s pathetic declaration of sexual emancipation. “God, I’m so stupid. I should have known. Sex isn’t just sex to you. It’s making love. It’s relationships and togetherness, white picket fences and a brood of ankle-biters kinda stuff.”

  Chalcey rinsed conditioner from her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. I had sex with a guy I just met. We had fun. End of story. I don’t expect it to go anywhere. I don’t expect anything at all. And neither does he.”

  “That’s what you think,” Sam muttered.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Be careful, is all. Wulf’s not a man to trifle with and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “You were happy enough when you thought I’d screwed his brains out last night. What’s changed?” She shut off the water, grabbed her sopping wet clothes and wrung them out before hanging them over the shower rail.

  “It’s funny. He’s got exactly the same look on his face as you do right now. Like he’s just experienced something so damn profound, he’s not sure how to cope with it. The two of you are made for each other.” Sam handed her a couple of towels. “I’ll go find you some clothes so you don’t have to walk past those workmen in a towel. I reckon they’ve had enough entertainment already, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Chalcey said. “Probably.” But her stunning rejoinder fell on deaf ears. Sam had already marched from the bathroom.

  ~~~

  Dressed, and hopefully able to face the world without bursting into idiotic tears, Chalcey ventured into the kitchenette. Sam had managed to find something more appetizing than leftover mac ’n’ cheese from a packet. She and Wulf were tucking into a huge feed of bacon, sausages and eggs.

  Despite the big ole huge bout of woe-is-me she was wallowing in, her mouth watered. “Where did you find all this food? Is there some magical hidden compartment in my fridge I didn’t know about, or something?”

  “I zipped to the deli while you and Wulf were, ah, washing up,” Sam said. “Figured you’d both be hungry. Afterward.”

  “Thanks.” Chalcey cooled her burning face by searching in the fridge for juice.

  “Oh, by the way, the phone rang,” Sam said. “Wulf took the call.”

  Chalcey glanced toward him, expectant, but the man in question merely applied himself diligently to his food. “So, who was it?” she asked. “A wannabe student, with any luck. Did you get their number so I can call them back?”

  Crimson flares painted his cheekbones. “When I picked up the device, a voice came from it. But when I spoke into it, all I heard was a click and a loud, monotonous tone. I must have used it incorrectly.”

  Sam patted his arm. “Not your fault—it was a hang-up. Chill. If it’s important they’ll ring back.”

  “So, Wulf.” Chalcey threw herself into a chair at the table, toyed with her drink, and hoped like hell her faked air of unconcern was convincing. If he sensed the slightest hesitation in her, he’d walk right over her and stick around. Worse, she’d probably let him. “Now that you’ve been fed and watered, it’s time for you to make tracks. I’m sure you have places to be, people to meet, yadda yadda.”

  “Jeez, Chalce,” Sam said. “Let the poor man at least finish his food before you boot him out on the street, huh?”

  She choked on her mouthful of juice. Sam was siding with her one-shower stand? Some best friend.

  Wulf leaned over and pounded her back. And before she could catch her breath to protest, began to gently rub the now painful place between her shoulder-blades. The touch of his big hand against her skin, doubtless meant to soothe, only served to remind her what else those hands had recently been doing. To her.

  She shrugged him off, slapping away his hands. Humiliation made her waspish. “Haven’t you got anything else to wear? You look like a walking porn star in all that leather. He’s all yours, Sam. And maybe the first thing you should do with him is take him shopping for suitable clothes.”

  Wulf arched his eyebrows. “What is wrong with my attire? ’Tis made of sand-lizard leather and eminently suitable for the climate of my homeland. Regardless, I have no choice in the matter, for I have no other clothes.”

  “Great. And I suppose you have no money, either?” He threw her a blank look, and she hastened to elaborate. “Money. To purchase clothes and other stuff you need.”

  “Alas, that is true.” He caught and held her gaze in a way that was so very intimate, Chalcey felt her face—and other more intimate parts—tingling with warmth. Again. “I have no currency. I am completely at your mercy.”

  Her mind filled with an explicit visual of Wulf spread-eagled on her bed. Naked. And aroused. Yikes. “S-so you’re some sort of a refugee? No clothes, no money, nowhere to stay?”

  “Indeed. I have nothing in this world but you, Chalcedony. But you are riches indeed.”

  Sam heaved a dramatically gusty sigh.

  Thank God Sam was there to distract her from this man who was so mesmerizing, so compelling that she felt like a
deer caught in headlights. Chalcey tore her gaze from Wulf’s face. “What?” she said to Sam. “You’re buying that line?”

  Oh yeah. Sam totally was. Her face was all soft and dewy-eyed.

  “Oh, c’mon. Snap out of it. You’re scaring me. I rely on you to tromp all my romantic notions into the ground before delivering me a lecture on the real world.”

  Sam forked up more bacon and contemplated Chalcey in a half smug, half wistful sort of fashion as she chewed. “You’ve got it real bad, haven’t you? Listen up, Chalce. Wulf and I had a little talk while you were trying to wash away all your sins. And—”

  “Excuse me?” Sam and Wulf having heart-to-hearts? This was bad. Really bad. It sucked that Sam wasn’t backing her up. Like she always backed Sam up. Unconditionally. “And you thought what, exactly? That since I’m all on my lonesome with only a battery-operated fake penis to keep me happy, you could just pair me up with little orphan Arnie, here, and we’d live happy ever after? No way. As soon as he finishes eating he’s outta here.”

  Sam continued speaking as if Chalcey hadn’t just launched into an emotive tirade. “I think you need some space to get your head around things. I’ve got plenty of room, so I offered Wulf my guestroom. Just until he gets himself sorted.”

  A green worm of jealousy burrowed into Chalcey’s soul and curled there. She surged to her feet, glaring at the man who’d turned up out of the blue, and turned her world upside down. “You bastard. You barge into my home, fuck me senseless, then sweet-talk your way into my best friend’s apartment? Get out. Get out now.”

  He rose to his feet slowly, deliberately, leashed fury in every muscle.

  Chalcey backed up. And kept backing up until she was plastered against the wall. He placed his hands on the wall either side of her head, and leaned into her.

  There was no escaping him. She tried to duck beneath his arms but he held an arm across her waist and trapped her there, against the wall, helpless. “Let me go,” she spat, wanting nothing more than to rake her nails down his face. And then repeat the shower episode. With interest.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking, Chalce,” Sam said. “I’m offering him a place to doss down. Nothing more.”

  “Right. Like he’s going to resist you when you next get the urge to take your mind off your own problems and decide to screw him senseless.” Hurt flashed in Sam’s eyes and Chalcey felt a pang of guilt for throwing Sam’s words back in her face.

  “I wouldn’t make a play for any guy I thought you were interested in, Chalce. At the very least you should trust me on that.”

  Crap. Some friend she was. She peered at Sam beneath Wulf’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I do trust you.” With any guy but this one….

  Sam’s emerald gaze had turned a distressing shade of poison-green that shouted “you really went too far this time, girlfriend”. Uh oh. “You’ve made it quite clear you’re not interested in Wulf, and you absolutely don’t want him around. So why would anything I do with him matter so much to you, anyway?”

  “I, too, would like an answer to that question,” Wulf said.

  Chalcey glowered at him, glad for an excuse to pull her gaze from Sam’s wounded, angry eyes. “You, stay out of this. Like, you’re such a—” His mouth swooped down, cutting off what she’d planned to be a really pithy insult in mid-stream. His lips—oh lord, he was such a fabulous kisser. Her brain shut down again, squeezing out reality, narrowing it until her only focus was him.

  When he finally moved away, she could only stare up at him, mesmerized. Again. And shiver while he nuzzled her neck, his lips bestowing little soft butterfly caresses that made her knees tremble.

  His lips hovered close to her ear. “Delightful as she is, I do not want your friend Samantha,” he whispered. “I only want you, Chalcedony.”

  The phone rang, jolting Chalcey back to the here and now. And a clear view of her best friend’s hurt-filled face. “I-I… I should get that,” she said. But she couldn’t move.

  Sam grabbed the phone. “Hello? Hello?” She slammed down the receiver. “Huh. I hate hang-ups. Rude prick could have at least apologized for dialing a wrong number.” She dumped her plate in the sink and grabbed the plastic bag with her clothes from last night. The high-heeled strappy sandals she’d worn clubbing should have looked ridiculous paired with oversized shorts and a t-shirt, but Chalcey knew that once she’d slipped them on, somehow they would work. “Be seeing you, Chalcey. Call me when your brain’s working again and you can be reasonable. Coming, Wulf?” And with that, she stalked out, barefoot, thank goodness. Not that Chalcey would have dared call her on it.

  Wulf sauntered out the door after her.

  Leaving Chalcey alone with a major case of confusion, a heap of dirty dishes, and a couple of tradesmen who probably figured she was an evil-tempered bitch who couldn’t make up her mind what she wanted. And that was if they’d overheard only part of what had gone down.

  She’d never let a guy get between her and Sam before. She’d never been this screwed up over a guy before, either. It was doing her head in. He was doing her head in. Oh boy. Not good. Sooo not good.

  ~~~

  “Are you certain this is the right course of action?” Wulf asked as he dutifully trailed down the steep staircase after Samantha. Dutiful was an unfamiliar concept to him, but Samantha was the mastermind of this plan, and if it aided him to win the prize he sought, then dutiful he would be. “Chalcedony strikes me as a stubborn woman. I cannot imagine her being so easily manipulated.”

  Samantha gave a snort worthy of Wulf’s battle-mount when the beast hadn’t bitten anyone in a while and was sorely irritated. “I know Chalcey. She’ll drive herself bat-shit crazy up the wall wondering whether I’ve seduced you. Or you’ve seduced me. You’ll see. I give her two days, tops, before she can’t stand it any longer and comes looking for you. Then all you have to do is make like you’re the kind of man she’s been searching for her entire life. Easy, right?”

  “I suspect not,” he muttered.

  “Me, neither,” Sam said. “But all you can do is try. At least this way you’ve got a fighting chance.” She paused at the bottom of the stairs and stared up at him, her gaze narrowed. “You do want a fighting chance with her, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Good,” Sam said. “She’s only just met you and she had sex with you. That’s a monumentally freaking huge step for her. She obviously likes you. A lot. If you play your cards right, the two of you might even make a go of it.”

  The thought of entering into something other than a fleeting relationship based on sex did not bother Wulf as much as it should have. Not if it were with Chalcedony. She would not allow him to rule the roost. He could not imagine finding such a complex, stubborn, frustrating, and wholly desirable woman, boring.

  Hah. He would be foolish to believe that that his unexpected respite from his crystal prison would be anything but temporary. Foolish to believe that he had any chance to make a life for himself. The old crystal sorcerer had been powerful enough that he must surely have commanded the ear of a god or two. If he yet lived, doubtless he was biding his time, plotting how to punish Wulf anew.

  It was obvious as a raincloud in the desert sky to Wulf that Chalcedony had been marked as a pawn in some great game. And she made an excellent pawn, indeed. She’d taken him into her body, given herself to him in such an abandoned, whole-hearted way that she had thoroughly seduced him into baring his soul. She’d forced him to care for her…. Only to then accuse him of using her, and moving on to another woman.

  He shouldn’t have cared. He should have been able to dismiss her as a lost cause, inconsequential. He should have been more than willing to sacrifice her to gain the upper hand, as was so often necessary in battle. But he would not have Chalcedony suffer the anguish of believing herself used and abandoned. He would not have her suffer at all.

  He resolved to protect her—as much as he was able. Gods willing, Samantha’s plan would convince Chalcedony to let him back
into her life. If not, so be it. He would take whatever drastic measures he deemed necessary.

  Samantha’s harsh laughter slapped at him. In the dull light of the stairwell, her green eyes glittered like soulless gems. “Boy, you are so a goner. Just like her. I’d go so far as to be envious if I wasn’t pissed to the max I’ve just fallen head over heels for Marc—”

  She bit off the word. Her eyes rounded and her parted lips trembled with sudden realization that smacked of profound shock. “Shit. Must be something in the bloody water.” She abruptly turned on her heel and shoved through the doorway, out into the street.

  Wulf followed her. He had nowhere else to go. Under other circumstances he would not have hesitated to stride away and fend for himself. But this world was so unfamiliar, so beyond his experience, that all his instincts shouted at him to accept Samantha’s offer and learn what he could. Too much was at stake. And knowledge was power. Knowledge would keep him alive, help him remain one step ahead of vengeful crystal sorcerers and capricious gods. At least until he had worked his unholy desire for Chalcedony from his system.

  The hollow feeling in his belly made him uneasy. He’d just eaten a hearty meal. And as he slid into the apparatus—the taxi—that Samantha had summoned, the hollowness dissolved into a pain so sharp and unexpected, that he might have been sliced by a sublimely honed blade, a blade so deadly that he hadn’t felt it parting his skin, and his brain was only now registering the injury. He ignored it. He was a warrior, accustomed to pain, and this was but a trifling niggle, not worthy of notice.

  The farther they travelled from Chalcedony’s abode, the more the pain bit at him. Until, by the time the taxi halted outside a building that was so high it scraped the clouds, his belly was alight with a fierce burning.

  Wulf grit his teeth and stoically bore the pain, refusing to reveal his weakness to the woman he’d chosen to follow. He knew what it meant. He’d left Chalcedony behind, let her push him away on the flimsiest of excuses. He should have insisted on staying, overwhelmed her objections, thrown her over his shoulder and fucked her till she was incapable of coherent thought. It was the best way to tame an overly obstinate woman. It had always worked for him previously. No woman could remain angry when she’d been thoroughly pleasured.