Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(45)

She wrinkled her nose. “But when I was born, they used Tolliver on my birth certificate. None of this makes sense, unless they deliberately wanted to confuse me.”

“I don’t have answers,” Walker said with a shrug. “Cass can tell us more tomorrow. But look at the Ingersson.”

“Why does that sound familiar?” Were there still holes in her memory?

“Valdis,” he replied curtly. “Her real name is Valerie Ingersson, and her real hair color is blond, just like yours.”

Sam snapped the laptop shut. “That’s it. I can’t take any more. I’m related to a witch, a death goddess, and the owners of half the town. I never had any idea that family could be such a headache.”

Walker dropped the computer on the coffee table and hugged her at the same time.

She knew he only meant to comfort her, but she needed more than that. She needed out of her head and back to basic human touch. Walker smelled of delicious masculine musk and the remnants of aftershave, and he’d opened the top button of his shirt so she could just. . .

Glimpsing a tattoo on the brown skin beneath the V of his shirt, she leaned over and kissed it.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head up so he could meet her eyes. “You are no longer a missing person and no longer my case.”

“I hope that means something significant.” She unbuttoned the next button to see the tattoo. It was a Chinese symbol she couldn’t interpret.

“It means I may regret this in the morning, but at least I won’t feel guilty preying on a victim.” He growled and bent to capture her mouth.

Selfishly deciding to believe that his comment about regret was his problem and not hers, Sam climbed across his thighs. Alcohol had a lovely effect on inhibitions, but she would have done this without the champagne. As if starved, she devoured Walker’s mouth. He had flexible lips that plied hers with expertise, authoritative, demanding, and as hungry as hers. She absorbed his male scent, the rough texture of his jaw, and his strength. She wriggled downward until she could feel his hard thighs and the long ridge lengthening beneath her bottom.

“Your duty is to serve and protect?” she asked teasingly, coming up for air. “I’m not a victim, you know. I’ve been taking care of myself these past six years.”

“You and your trust fund in your ivory tower,” he corrected. But then he ran his hand under her shirt and released her bra and everything was all right.

“Broaden my world,” she murmured some minutes later when he lifted her and carried her toward the bedroom.

“No promises,” he muttered back. “One night, that’s all this is.”

“One night is all I need,” she taunted, tugging his shirt from his pants as he laid her across the largest bed she’d ever seen. “Drive my family out of my head.”

Walker was all gorgeous male. The purple tattoo emphasized his admirable pecs. Another cryptic tattoo circled his muscled biceps and stretched when he leaned over her. He was tougher than her grad student boyfriends, a man who had lived a real life, not the sheltered one of academia.

A man who knew luxury suites supplied condoms and had the sense to grab one.

She needed to absorb some of his toughness and experience if she was to survive this next phase. She needed to know she could withstand that toughness.

But the kisses he used to arouse her were tender, so tender she nearly cried at the need welling up inside her. And the need was more than physical. Alone and adrift, she clung to him as a sturdy mast in the storm. And when they joined, he set her free.



“Fruit is not breakfast,” Walker scolded as his tousled bedmate placed her order with room service the next day. “Fruit is dessert.”

“Fresh fruit is nirvana,” she countered, almost drooling over the picture on the desk menu. “Fresh fruit is nectar of the gods. Manly men can crunch baby chickens and three kinds of grease on an empty stomach. This goddess can’t.”

She looked like a veritable goddess with all that moonlight hair tumbling into her sunlit face and down her robe. Last night, she’d awakened him in ways that must have been magic. He’d been dead inside for too long. He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to return to the living, but her delight was not only irresistible but ego-inflating.

“Goddess, huh?” He lifted her against him. “Mystical, mythical, or comic book?”

“Tarot card.” She wrapped her fine legs around his hips and kissed his neck. “Does that count?”

“Works for me.” And he carried her back to bed to fill in time before room service arrived. A year was a damned long time to go without sex. He had a lot to catch up on, and Sam was no shy virgin. She was a natural earth goddess. He didn’t need to worry she would take their encounter seriously. Maybe sex without considering commitment and babies could keep him going. He blessed the hotel’s box of condoms.

They’d showered and dressed by the time breakfast arrived. Walker had sent yesterday’s clothes to be express laundered. That had earned him extra hugs and kisses. At least Sam knew how to do appreciation. Must have been that small-town upbringing.

Watching her salivate over berries, yogurt, and honey tickled him more than anything in his life lately. He’d have to watch himself once they returned to the real world, but for now, maybe his weary soul needed a fresh perspective.