Born in Blood

Page 31

And, besides, she hadn’t yet decided if seeking comfort from this particular male was really a wise choice.
Had she?
The disturbing question whirled through her mind as Duncan halted in front of her, making her even more edgy.
“Hello, Sergeant O’Conner,” she murmured in a tight voice.
“Sergeant O’Conner?” He blinked. “Is that a joke?”
“I didn’t expect you to be here. We just returned to Valhalla when the Mave asked that we bring the medics to collect the body,” she found herself babbling, taking a step backward. “She hopes that an autopsy of Leah might reveal the precise magic the necromancer used to animate her.”
Duncan frowned as he studied her wary expression. “What the hell is going on?”
She licked her lips at his impatient question. “I just told you.”
“You told me why you’re here,” he growled. “You haven’t told me why you’re acting like I didn’t spend the morning kissing every satin inch of you.”
Heat stained her cheeks. “Shh.”
“Answer the question or I’m going to get a hell of a lot louder.”
“It’s . . . I didn’t know—”
“Know what?”
“If you wanted people to realize that we’d been together,” she said, giving a startled grunt when he grasped her arm and tugged her toward a trail leading back up the bluff. Far enough away to make sure no one could overhear them, although they remained in full view of the gawking cops. “Duncan. What are you doing?”
“I want to make sure I have this right.” The hazel eyes sparked with gold, warning his temper was roused. “Are you implying that you thought I might be ashamed of sleeping with you?”
Put that way it sounded . . . bad.
She shot a glance toward the crowd, shifting her feet. She hated being the center of attention. Especially when she was surrounded by norms. “Can we discuss this later?”
His jaw hardened. He was well and truly pissed.
“No, we damned well can’t discuss this later. We discuss this now.”
“People are staring.”
“I don’t give a shit.” He leaned close enough to whisper directly in her ear, his scent teasing her nose and making her blood heat. Man. She loved the smell of him. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she realized her nipples had hardened and excitement was buzzing through her lower stomach. She wanted to shove her fingers into his hair and trail a line of kisses over his stubborn jaw. Or bury her face in the curve of his neck and savor his intoxicating scent. “Just like I don’t give a damn if they know I’ve taken you as my lover,” he continued, placing an intimate kiss just below her ear before he pulled back to study her with a brooding gaze. “Unless that’s not the problem?”
She blinked, struggling to concentrate on his words.
Dammit. She was the Queen of Composure. Nothing rattled her. Especially not a mere man.
But Duncan O’Conner possessed an aggravating ability to slip beneath her defenses.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you’re ashamed that people might suspect that you’ve lowered your standards to allow a barely civilized cop into your bed?”
She made a sound of disbelief at the idiotic suggestion. There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t be proud to claim this man as her lover.
“If that was the case then I would never have spent the night with you.” She pointed out the obvious. “There isn’t anyone in Valhalla who doesn’t know we were together.”
His eyes narrowed, his cop face on full display. “Then why did you act like I was the enemy?”
She bit her lip, shifting to hide her expression from the onlookers. The man might be gorgeous, sexy, and unexpectedly tender beneath his macho facade, but he was as stubborn as a Missouri mule.
“It’s difficult.”
He hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting back her head to regard her with open concern. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Okay. Fine. Maybe it was better if he knew.
“I’ve never been a couple,” she grudgingly admitted.
He stilled, his eyes focusing on her with laser intensity. Like a hunter catching sight of unexpected prey.
“Never?”
She shivered. Not with fear. But . . . anticipation.
“No. I’ve only dated a few times and they were always casual.”
His thumb brushed her lower lip, the light caress sending a jolt of sweet pleasure to the pit of her stomach.
“So I embarrassed you with my public display of affection?”
“Not exactly.”
“Callie?”
She wrinkled her nose, recalling her awkwardness this morning and then again when she’d first seen Duncan this afternoon.
“It’s more the fact I don’t understand the rules of the game.”
His expression softened, the wicked sensuality warming his hazel eyes.
“Between us there are no rules. We’ll work our way through this . . .” He leaned down to brush her lips in a light kiss. “Together.”
Another delectable shiver raced through her body and she lifted her hands to rest them against the hard contours of his chest.
“I don’t think your friends are going to approve.”
He nibbled the corner of her mouth. “Then they’re not my friends.”
An unexpected warmth spread through her heart at his simple words. Strange. Was it really that important to her that he wasn’t the least hesitant to claim her in public?
Obviously, it was.
“And your family?”
“I already promised I was taking you to Sunday dinner.”
It was once again the perfect answer, so naturally Callie panicked.
“No. I mean . . . not this Sunday.”
A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Why the cold feet?”
It was a legitimate question. And one she had no answer for.
Everything had turned upside down in the past two days.
Her belief that there were rigid laws of physics that controlled the powers of high-bloods.
The assumption that she had her peaceful, if somewhat isolated, future all planned out.
The unspoken rule that norms and freaks didn’t mix.
Was it any wonder she was torn between the intense desire to haul this man into the bushes and rip off his clothes and the urge to return to Valhalla and hide beneath her covers? Unfortunately, neither option was viable.
Not until they’d tracked down Lord Zakhar and put a stop to his gruesome abuse of the dead.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Okay.” He dropped a light kiss on her nose before he pulled back and studied her with a resigned smile. “We’ll wait until you don’t hyperventilate at the mere mention of family.”
Her missing sense of humor returned at his gentle teasing. “So generous.”
“And when we’re working the case I’ll be professional,” he promised, a sinful heat melting the gold in his eyes until they shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. “Even if I’m counting the seconds until I can get you naked and lick you from top to bottom.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs in instant hunger. Suddenly the option of pushing him into the bushes and stripping off his clothes was much more viable.
Too viable.
“You are—”
“Yeah, I know. Barely civilized.” With a wicked grin he glanced over her shoulder. “We’d better go before Fane terrifies the entire KC police department into early retirement.”
Chapter Seventeen
With swift efficiency the medics had Leah’s body wrapped in a protective bag while Callie gave Duncan a condensed version of what they’d learned in Russia. With an equally condensed version, Duncan had shared his trip to the art expert, revealing the man had spoken of the coin being Sumerian in origin.
It was a step forward, but not nearly far enough or fast enough.
Deep inside her was a growing pulse of anxiety.
As if something was warning her that time was running out.
There was a faint stir from the cops still grouped together and, turning her head, Callie realized that Fane was coming to demand that they leave.
Squaring her shoulders, she crossed the short distance to speak with the Sentinel in private.
He wasn’t going to like what she had to say, but for once she was determined. It was time to put on her big girl panties. She was done hiding behind her loyal guardian and the protective walls of Valhalla.
“I’m going to stay here and work on the investigation with Duncan,” she said, barely waiting for Fane to come to a halt.
His face was devoid of expression, his dark eyes hard. “No.”
“Fane, listen to me.”
“You know the rules.”
She did. A diviner was never to travel outside Valhalla without protection. There were far too many loonies who thought that the only good diviner was a dead one.
And that was before the news started to spread that there was a necromancer out there toying with young, female corpses.
She deliberately glanced toward Duncan, who watched them with a narrowed gaze. “I won’t be alone.”
“Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”
“No. I’m trying to be logical.” She ignored his muttered opinion of her logic. “Only you can return Leah and the medics to Valhalla. It makes sense for me to remain here and continue the investigation.”
“What does this investigation include?”
She turned back, her gaze ricocheting off his granite-hard expression. “Duncan mentioned that Leah was wearing clothing from an exclusive salon,” she said. “He wants to see if he can find the specific store and interview the owner.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “That’s all?”
“He’s searching for a lead on the coin” She shrugged. “I suggested we stop by the Rabbit Hutch to see if any of Leah’s friends—”
“Absolutely not.”