Spirit of Seduction Page 4

  He faced her and the anguish in his eyes was plain. “I didn’t want to mention the rest of my vision earlier, but now…I pray I didn’t just put your life in more jeopardy. I didn’t think about the connection or I never would have, Emily, I swear.” He hit his fist against the wall. “As much as I wanted you—still want you—I would have refrained. After we just did what we did…”

  She touched his shoulder. “What is it?”

  Tiny muscles around his jaw ticked. “We were making love in the vision, right before…”

  “Before I was killed.” Alarm bucked through her. She crumpled into a chair.

  Had she just sealed her own fate?

  Chapter Three

  The change in Emily was palpable. She hadn’t eaten a bite of the sandwiches he’d fixed for dinner. Sensing her discomfort, he reiterated his offer to spend the night on the couch, but she insisted she was okay with them sharing his bed.

  Now, as he held her against him, he could feel the stiffness of her muscles and hear the hitch of her breath every time he shifted in the bed. He couldn’t blame her for regretting making love with him. He wished to God he’d have realized the significance of the act, the perilous position in which it had put her.

  Yet even knowing the consequences, he couldn’t hide his body’s reaction to having the smooth curve of her backside pressed to his groin. Her hair was still damp from her shower and she smelled like his shampoo. For some reason, the notion ratcheted his desire even higher. He forced himself to move to the edge of the bed where he couldn’t reach her.

  She rolled over to face him, her pretty eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming in from the window. Even in one of his t-shirts, several sized too large for her, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “I want you, too, Ryan.”

  He clenched his jaw against a rush of emotion. “I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I already have.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t put me there, fate did. Making love again wouldn’t change anything.” She reached out for him and he gladly pulled her into his arms.

  She gave him a leisurely, tasting kiss then straddled his hips and rocked against his arousal. This time he wanted to go slow, touch her everywhere, turn her on, over and over. She took off the t-shirt and all he could do for several seconds was stare at her loveliness.

  Then he rolled her over so she was under him and he began exploring every delicious inch of her, licking, kissing, sucking until she detonated in satisfaction that convulsed her body. But he continued his campaign with his lips, his tongue and his hands.

  He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her heat but he hung onto his control with every ounce of restraint he could muster. After he’d brought her to climax again, he finally allowed himself his own gratification.

  He pushed her thighs apart then slid inside her sheath. Staring into her eyes he could see the haze of her satisfaction, but there was more. There was fear. She turned her head to the side and a tear spilled onto the pillow.

  He stopped moving and gently kissed her eyelids. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

  She gave him a half smile that melted something inside him. He started stroking again, willing her to believe him, trying to convince himself at the same time.

  She moaned and rocked in tandem with him as if they’d been lovers all their lives. “Yes, oh, God, yes.”

  Finally, he let go of his control and exploded in deep spasms of ecstasy. His blood roared as he sucked in gasping breaths. Nothing had ever felt so right, so complete. He collapsed on top of her and kissed her dreamy smile.

  He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He couldn’t lose her.

  Emily shifted her backside so she was in just the right spot—tucked against Ryan’s body. She’d never expected this, had never dreamed that Ryan wanted her as much as she did him. Everything felt perfect now but what would happen if they learned the identity of Becky’s killer? Would the murderer come after her?

  Even if Ryan could protect her from the fate his vision had predicted, was it wise for her to be with him?

  She liked Raleigh and it was just beginning to feel like home. She was making friends with people who had no psychic abilities and had no idea that she did. She wasn’t sure she was ready to open that door to the occult and put herself in jeopardy at every turn, even for Ryan. She wished she knew what he was thinking but his emotions were closed off to her supernatural senses, something she’d rarely encountered.

  Her mother had usually been able to block Emily from reading her mind. But her mother’s boyfriend’s thoughts were apparent to her, which was why she’d run away from New Orleans. Someday she’d mend her relationship with her mother, tell her the truth of why she’d left, but things were always more complicated—and dangerous—when you were privy to people’s emotions.

  She tried again to get a reading on Ryan’s feelings but nothing came to her. “Ryan?”

  “Huh?” he said with a yawn.

  “I wonder if I’m too close to the situation to help you find Becky’s killer. If I extricate myself from the whole thing, maybe…”

  He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “I know you want to do this for Becky, but maybe it’s gotten too dangerous.” Several emotions played out in his expression. It was the disappointment that cut through her.

  She swallowed hard. “She knew we’d be walking into trouble and she wanted us to be careful. Maybe if we go about our business, pretend to drop it, the killer will leave us alone. I go to work at the salon like nothing’s changed and you—”

  “How the hell am I supposed to protect you if I’m not with you? I’ve already lost Becky. I don’t want to take any chances with you. I have to try to find out who killed my sister. I have to. But I can do it without you. I can find another psychic, as long as I know you’re safe and with me.” He sighed with such sadness that her heart squeezed. “The cops here are pretty much useless. They said they investigated Tommy, her boyfriend, but when he gave them some flimsy alibi about being home by himself that night, they dropped it. Course, it probably helped that he’s related to one of their officers.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Hell, they investigated me more thoroughly than they did him.”

  Her pulse pounded. She wasn’t aware that Ryan had been a suspect. She recalled Becky’s words.

  Go carefully or else say your farewells.

  “Why did they investigate you?” She hoped he hadn’t noticed the tremble in her voice.

  He looked away. “The last time I saw her, we argued. I could swear she picked a fight with me. She seemed on edge. If I said something was black, she said it was hot pink.”

  Her mouth grew dry. “What was the fight about?”

  He shrugged. “Stupid stuff, nothing important. To tell you the truth, I don’t even remember. It was unlike her. You knew her, she was always in a good mood. Until a few months ago. Something changed but she didn’t tell me what that was.”

  Ryan couldn’t have killed Becky. He loved her too much. But still, the notion sent a chill up her spine. She slid a few inches away, suddenly aware of the vulnerable position she was in—if Ryan were a killer.

  No, she’d have sensed such evil. But she was sure than before that she was closer to the case than she ought to be. Her own emotions might get in the way. “I know someone who might be willing to help, and I think he knew Becky, although they were only acquaintances.”

  She didn’t need to call upon her supernatural powers to pick up on his skepticism.

  He threw back the sheets, bolted out of bed and started pacing. “I don’t know if I trust anyone else, especially if you don’t know the person well.”

  She persisted. “You said it yourself. I’m risking everything including my life if I get too involved with this. Arnie is a gifted psychic. Mainly he hears voices. It’s called clairaudience.”

  He shook his head. “That could be said about people with serious mental conditions.”

  She s
lipped out of bed and went to him. “Ryan, I know a lot more about this stuff than you. Would you at least agree to talk to Arnie with me?”

  He gave her a forced smile. “If there’s the slightest possibility of making you safer, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

  She hugged her arms around him and allowed herself a sliver of hope. Maybe Arnie could help find Becky’s killer without putting Emily’s life in further jeopardy.

  * * * * *

  Ryan had never been to a bookstore dedicated to the occult before, but then he’d never believed in ghosts before either. The scent of exotic spices and musty books tickled his nose. A few of the dream catchers like Becky used to make hung from the ceiling near the windows. Aside from the rows of books, the place had a display of incense and another of assorted hand-labeled bottles of oil. Several racks of silver jewelry and cases filled with crystals of every shape and color lined the long wooden counter, but there didn’t appear to be anyone minding the store.

  Emily leaned over the counter and glanced toward a closed door in the back with a Private sign on it. “Hello? Arnie?” She faced Ryan wearing an apologetic smile. “I’m sure he’ll be out in a minute. This is a one-man show. Kind of reminds me of my mother’s place in NOLA.”

  He’d never heard her mention her mother. “She has a bookstore?”

  She furrowed her brow as she absently sorted through a tray of polished stones but she said nothing. Suddenly the door in the back creaked open. A lanky man with white-blond hair and fair skin crossed the threshold.

  Emily cleared her throat. “Hey, Arnie.”

  The man smiled wide when he caught sight of her and a surprising pang of jealousy poked at Ryan’s gut. “Emily!” Arnie sliced a glance at Ryan then shifted his mossy eyes back to the only lady in the room. “It’s been a long time. What brings you in?”

  “This is Ryan Barnes, Becky’s brother.” She touched his arm and the contact stirred up erotic memories from the night before.

  Arnie’s smile slipped a little. “Of course, I should have known. There’s a strong resemblance. I’m so sorry about her…” He hung his head.

  “Thank you.” Ryan shook hands with him.

  “We need your help,” Emily said. “Becky’s spirit appeared to Ryan, and to me. I was hoping you could try to contact her.”

  Arnie narrowed his eyes. “Really? Well, I did offer my help to the Kenton Police on the case, but they turned me down flat. Said they didn’t need assistance from a quack. They still don’t have any suspects, huh?” He folded his arms over his chest.

  “Her boyfriend was their top suspect,” Emily told him.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Frankly, I thought he was an ass.”

  Ryan’s chest tightened. He’d suspected Tommy as well since Becky always seemed to be arguing with him over one thing or another. It made him furious that Becky had died a horrible death and Tommy—or whoever had killed her—walked free. “How do you know him?”

  “He used to come with Becky sometimes when she brought me new dream catchers.” He pointed to the brightly colored ones hanging closest to the cash register. “They’re big sellers. Hers are more unusual than most I’ve seen, like works of art.” He drew a sigh. “She’ll be missed.”

  “She is,” Emily said.

  “Why aren’t you helping with the case?” Arnie asked her.

  “Well…” She turned to Ryan for a moment and he noticed she was blushing.

  “She and Becky were too close.” Ryan took her hand. “And so are she and I. Becky warned Emily that she could be in danger.”

  “Would you try?” Emily asked Arnie. “Maybe she’ll reveal something she wouldn’t to me. She won’t find peace until her killer’s caught.”

  Arnie’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t know her well, but she seemed like a sweet lady. I’ll do whatever I can to help. Let’s take this into my office.” He lifted a section of the countertop and headed across the store to lock the front door. Then he ushered them into a small office in the back.

  The room was windowless and unlike the laid-back, new age atmosphere out front, the office was filled with high tech gadgetry. A state-of-the-art laptop was open on the desk, hooked up to a printer/scanner that looked to be capable of beaming Arnie up to the Starship Enterprise. An open door led to a stairway going down to what must have been a basement since they were currently at street level.

  Arnie had them sit around a square chrome and glass table. “Tell me what you’d like me to find out specifically.”

  Ryan was about to answer but Emily beat him to it. “The name of the person—or people—who she remembers being with last. Anything she can give us to lead to him, something we can take to the police.”

  “I’ll try.” Arnie covered his face with his hands then held perfectly still.

  Emily threw Ryan a subtle nod. If she was okay with the guy, so was he.

  Arnie’s head snapped back as if someone had clocked him, then his expression turned almost serene. He mumbled something unintelligible then slumped forward.

  Ryan’s first instinct was to check to see if Arnie needed CPR but Emily didn’t seem concerned so he sat tight.

  Finally Arnie’s lids fluttered then opened. The guy looked as if he just woke up from a long nap. “Josiah told me that whoever killed your sister was very close to her—very close.”

  Ryan glanced at Emily then back at Arnie. “Who said?”

  “Josiah. He’s my channel.” Arnie smiled. “My contact person in the other realm, if you will. You understand that Becky won’t know the name of her killer, right?”

  Ryan nodded. “Emily explained that. But Josiah will?”

  “Perhaps. He understand things most spirits do not.”

  Forty-eight hours ago he’d have dismissed the guy as a nut, but he didn’t have much choice other than to believe him—or at least the message. Besides, the cops had told him that the killer’s MO pointed to someone Becky knew and trusted.

  “I’ll try again this evening. Sometimes I can pick up more on my second attempt.” Arnie stood and gestured at the door.

  “Thanks for your help.” Emily strode into the store. “Would you call me if you—”

  “Of course,” Arnie cut her off.

  Ryan followed her through to the front door.

  She dug in her purse for her business card then apparently changed her mind and shoved it back inside. Instead, she took one of Arnie’s cards from the counter, wrote her cell number on the back then handed it to him.

  “I heard you left The Spiral Circle and stopped doing readings last year. What have you been up to lately?” Arnie asked her.

  She darted her eyes around the room. “Keeping busy, you know.” Taking Ryan’s hand, she waved to Arnie. “Talk to you later.”

  The woman had a habit of avoiding certain questions. And keeping secrets. Although he had no room to condemn her since he’d neglected to share with her the sexual part of his vision before they’d made love. He let her into his truck then started it up and faced her. “Now what?”

  She buckled her seatbelt. “Hopefully Arnie will have some information for us later, maybe something we can take to the police.”

  “Hope so. What do you say we swing by Tommy’s place as see if he’s got a black SUV with front end damage?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Are you serious? You want to just show up there? This guy could be a killer, right? If it is him, he’s already tried to come after us once. Maybe we should ask the police to check him out.”

  Ryan pulled onto the road. “I told you, the cops won’t do shit to Tommy, not as long as his uncle’s a big wig on the force.”

  “Surely they’d have to call in another agency under the circumstances.”

  He swallowed back the taste of bile from his throat. “They’re all crooked.”

  Her throat twitched with a swallow. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

  He pulled onto the road and patted her hand. “It’ll be fin
e. Trust me.” If he found that black SUV on Tommy’s property, he’d rip the bastard apart with his bare hands.

  As they drove away from Raleigh, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Emily’s stomach. She’d had the same feeling back at Arnie’s store when the three of them were in the office but she couldn’t pinpoint the source. The landscape looked familiar and she realized they were close to Becky’s house.

  Ryan turned at a mailbox with the name Thomas Leeds, Junior hand written on the side. He negotiated the long, narrow driveway to a modest log home. Several cars were parked near an unattached three-car garage next to the house, but no black SUV.

  Ryan stopped his truck and drew a heavy sigh. “Just because we don’t see the vehicle doesn’t mean he’s not the asshole who rammed us last night. He could have parked it behind his house, out of sight.”

  Emily jerked back against the headrest as Ryan punched the gas and headed around the side of the garage. But there were no cars in back.

  He slammed his fist into the steering wheel then spun the truck around and started around front. “Damn it. I was sure it was him,” he muttered under his breath.

  Before she could respond, a dark-haired man in his mid to late twenties came outside. “What can I do for you, Ryan?” he asked.

  Ryan stormed out of the cab and rolled his shoulders. “Where were you last night.”

  The other man set his hands on his waist. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

  “Someone hit my truck. Twice.”

  The testosterone was so thick she could practically small it from the cab.

  “Twice? How the hell did that happen?” Tommy asked.

  “Good question.”

  A sarcastic grin nudged up the corners of Tommy’s mouth. “Oh, I get it. You gonna accuse me of something else, huh? Not bad enough you’re spreading lies that I’m some sort of murderer. Now I’m after you, too. Sounds like you have a little paranoia problem, my friend.”