“What about Eloise?” Sam asked from her seat on the sofa facing theirs. “I mean, I know all she and Jared did was bonk on one occasion” – Luther stifled a chuckle – “but it wouldn’t be the first time that someone got a little jealous about my relationship with him.”

Sprawled beside her, I ran a hand through her hair. “If I wasn’t the Heir, they wouldn’t give a shit, baby.”

How many times do I have to tell you that you underestimate your own worth?

I didn’t respond. She’d said this to me over and over, and had also told me that I was wrong in thinking that women had always thought I had no more than a high position and a pretty face to offer. It didn’t matter anyway, because the only person I cared about having anything to offer was Sam. If she was under the illusion that I was all those things, that could only be good.

“But it’s obvious that Eloise would like to put me on a drip of bleach,” continued Sam. “And she’s clearly enjoying all of this. Could she be behind it somehow? Surely she could have made it look like an authentic complaint.”

Antonio pursed his lips. “It’s possible. But I have the feeling that there is more to this.” He paused and exhaled a heavy breath. “On another note, Alora has been in touch.”

Sam and I both looked at each other and groaned. We didn’t need more complications.

“She wishes to come here. She heard from Bran what has happened to Evan, and she wants to see him.”

“You can’t let her.” I shook my head. “Evan made us promise not to let her see him the way he is now.”

“I thought as much, but I was not sure.” After a pause, Antonio added, “She was a mess when I spoke to her by teleconference.”

Luther nodded. “Distraught.”

I wasn’t feeling particularly sympathetic toward her right then. “Yeah, well, she had her chance to be with him and she f**ked it up. Maybe if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have insisted on going on the assignment and he wouldn’t be dying.”

Sam gave me a pointed look. “Jared, no one’s to blame for what happened to him. Not Alora, not Evan, not you – no one.”

Antonio sighed. “What occurred between Alora and Evan…As she told me in confidence, I cannot repeat the details. But I will say that she had good reason to hold back from him. I would not have entertained her request to see him if that was not true. I care for Evan, and I do not want people around him who would wish to hurt him emotionally or physically. You know that.”

“She simply wants the chance to help find a way to save him,” Luther said carefully, obviously very much aware I wasn’t in the best mood.

Oh hell, no. “Don’t even suggest bringing her in on this. Evan made us promise.”

“He made you promise not to let her see him.” Antonio held up his index finger. “But he did not make you promise not to let her help you.”

Sam tilted her head slightly. “That’s true.”

I twisted to face her, demanding, “Tell me you’re not considering this.”

“I know if it was the other way around and I was her?”

“You would never have let me down the way she let Evan down.” For a second, Sam looked surprised by my confidence in her. She even looked touched by it. But that didn’t stop her from continuing to put forward her case, just as I’d known it wouldn’t. Sam never gave up on anything. I admired it even as it annoyed the shit out of me.

“People make mistakes.” Her voice was soft, low. “We’ve both made our fair share. We’ve hurt each other. But we’ve always fixed those mistakes. She wants to fix hers; she wants to help.”

I snorted. “Her gift is to communicate with animals – that’s not going to help us fight The Call.”

“No,” agreed Luther. “But you understand the need to feel as though you are helping, even though it is possible that you cannot.”

“Alora can do that without coming here.”

Sam shook her head at me. “You are so bloody stubborn.”

Was she kidding? “Baby, three words: pot, kettle, black.”

“I’m not stubborn, I’m tenacious – it’s a gift and a curse.”

“It’s a pain in my ass, that’swhat it is. Like earlier when I said?”

“Why are you bringing up old shit? You’re always doing it. Like a plunger.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I can’t have this conversation.”

“Thinking has never been your strong point, has it?” She looked at Antonio then. “The pressure gets to him every time.”

You’ll pay for this. I had to battle a smile. She didn’t bother to hide hers.

If you mean you’re going to tie me to the bed again and make me come over and over until I can’t think straight…come and give it to me.

I did. You swallowed it, remember?

Ooh, good one.

Antonio rose from his seat. “I must go now to arrange for a squad to join Quentin Foy’s hunting party. Think on the Alora matter a little more.”

Not interested in having that conversation again, I simply took Sam’s hand in mine and teleported us…to the bottom of the pool – for maybe the third time this week. The subsequent bitch slap wasn’t a surprise.

Chapter Seven

(Sam)

It was the sound of a moan that woke me the next evening. A moan filled with desperation, need, and bliss. I quickly realised that it had come from me. A talented tongue lashed my clit, making another moan slip out. Without opening my eyes, I reached down and threaded my fingers through Jared’s hair, tugging hard. He growled and began what could only be described as a sensual assault – flicking my clit with the tip of his tongue, fluttering that tongue through my folds, swirling it inside me, and stabbing me over and over with it. Then he was licking, nibbling, suckling, and sipping. God, he was good.

Soon enough, I came hard. But he didn’t stop. He continued his assault until he’d pushed me into another orgasm. Still, though, he didn’t stop. I tried to wriggle away. “No, I want you inside me.”

“Give me one more,” he demanded. I hadn’t thought it was possible to come again, but when he zapped my clit with his thumb I was gone. “Good girl.”

While I lay there being racked by aftershocks, he trailed the tip of his tongue up my body, tracing the dips and hollows. Then his mouth latched onto a taut nipple. Nope, he wasn’t done teasing me yet – typical. I wasn’t sure whether I was pleased or annoyed…Maybe a bit of both.




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