AND JERICHO BURNED
ExcerptStoker opened the door of Hank's rental pick-up truck for Lucy, then cupped her delectable bottom to boost her into the cab. His palms tingled where he touched her.
Soon, he thought.
Part of him felt like thanking Randy Butler for driving Lucy deeper into his protection. At this rate, they'd be mated much sooner than anyone but Stoker wanted.
He wondered if the irony of sending Restin to New Sinai as a thank you gift would be appreciated by General Butler.
Stoker nearly laughed out loud. He wished Hank were with him, because his cousin would appreciate his humor. Were it any other topic, Lucy might, too. At least, he hoped she would.
"Sit next to me," he said as he buckled his seatbelt.
Lucy clung to the passenger door as if it could save her.
"I won't bite you."
Her eyes widened.
"Yet." He grinned, trying to get her to relax. If she walked into the courthouse looking as if she expected to die at any moment, the bureaucrats might not issue them a license.
He started the engine and waited for her to slide across the bench seat to his side.
"Won't you be distracted if I sit next to you?" she finally asked, as if realizing they weren't leaving until she moved.
"Not as much as if I'm worrying you'll jump out of the truck at the next traffic light."
She inhaled deeply, her chest shuddering with the effort.
That hurt.
He was good enough for her to cling to while Bill Danby and Randy Butler tossed down threats like open wounds shed blood, but not good enough for sitting thigh-to-thigh on their way to purchase a marriage license.
Yup, it hurt.
"I could toss you over my shoulder and run into town," he offered. "Like last night."
She unlatched her seat belt and slid closer to him.
Lucy's problem, he decided, was she had too many choices.
He waited while she dug into the upholstery for the middle seat belt. If he touched her right now, they wouldn't make it to the courthouse.
Finally, she was strapped in. He put the truck in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. Lucy leaned forward and turned on the radio, fiddling with the buttons until she found the local country station.
That was one way to avoid conversation.
Stoker tried not to scowl. Hank had once said he could scare a ghost with his grimace, so its appearance while he was trying to woo his mate didn't bode well.
Ancient Ones, he was never going to get this right.
He thought about some of the movies he'd seen on late night television. He was a sucker for human love stories. Happily ever after was his idea of perfection; what he sought with Lucy. Well, he didn't have time to pick flowers for her right now, chocolate and champagne were poisons, and gestures didn't get much grander than his offer to liberate her sister. There had to be something else he could do, something immediate.
Keeping one hand on the steering wheel as he drove the unfamiliar streets, he reached for Lucy's hand. Holding hands was supposed to be romantic.
She didn't struggle, but neither did she return the gentle squeeze he gave her fingers. At least, he hoped it was gentle. Sometimes a werewolf misjudged his strength.
He glanced at her, forcing his gaze not to linger. Her profile filled him with a warm calm. He'd never seen anything as beautiful as Lucy Callahan.
A faint tremor just below her surface stillness betrayed her calm demeanor. A faintly rank odor lingered beneath the sweet, green aroma he'd come to associate with her.
Trepidation.
A bride-to-be should be excited, not terrified.
Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her palm. She flinched when his tongue touched the sensitive flesh in the center.
"Relax," he said. "You look like you're headed for your own execution. It isn't very flattering to me, you know."
Lucy's eyebrows twisted. Her eyes shimmered as if tears lingered on their surfaces. "Watch the road," she said, her voice husky and strained.
He wasn't a monster, but she was making him feel like one.
"I'm not Bill Danby."
She jerked again. "I know. It's just that I have a lot on my mind."
"Business?" he asked, unable to keep the sarcastic inflection from his tone.
"Yes."
"You should let Restin handle your business and concentrate on . . .."
He broke off. He couldn't very well say "me," although that's what he meant. If she hadn't figured out that part by now, he doubted she ever would.
"On what? Or who? My sister?"
"On being happy."
Oh, that sounded so lame, and he regretted the words even as they left his mouth. He clutched her hand, his thumb massaging her fingers.
Her bare fingers.
A frustrated howl lodged in his throat, but a city street wasn't exactly the place for venting.
"Where's your ring?" he asked between clenched teeth.
Lucy started. "Oh," she said. "I forgot to put it back on."
He pinched her ring finger between his thumb and forefinger. "Why did you take it off?"
She seemed surprised at the venom in his voice. "To make my phone calls," she said, as if that answer made any sense whatsoever, which it didn't, unless she had some fetish about wearing rings while on the telephone. "You're hurting me."
He immediately eased his grip. She was making him crazy, making him do perverted things. "I'm sorry. The last thing in the world I'd ever do is intentionally hurt you." He once again brought her fingers to his lips and gently kissed them.
"I know," she said.
When you won't wear my ring, you hurt me, he wanted to say, but what kind of male - a werewolf at that - got upset about something as ridiculous as a piece of jewelry. The symbolism wasn't even part of his culture, but rather hers. Maybe that's why its absence bothered him. By rejecting her own token, she rejected him.
"What did you do with it?" The question came out more sharply than he'd intended.
"I wrapped it in a towel in the bathroom," she said.
At least she hadn't lost it.
"Housekeeping already came through, so it will be okay. I mean, they won't accidentally toss it." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to wearing a ring." She held out her right hand. Those fingers, too, were bare.
He felt a little better.
"I promise not to leave it off again," she said. "It was a careless mistake on my part."
Okay, he felt a whole lot better.
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