Free Move Me by Emma Holly Page A

felt every draft
in the old kitchen. He was convinced his performance merited better
thanks than she’d given him.
    You were great, John , he mouthed to
himself. I’ll see you tomorrow .
    She was supposed to invite him to stay over,
to melt with gratitude and ask what else she might do for him. Anything you want , she was supposed to say. Everyone knew
that’s how it worked between faeries and humans. They were the
lovers no woman could forget.
    Unless ...
    He shook his head at the unlikely thought.
His sexual prowess couldn’t have been hampered by using it in this
realm. He’d felt his own pleasure more than ever. He could have
sworn she did too. Damn it, the earth had moved for her!
    He buttoned his flannel shirt with a muffled
curse. According to the cracked oven clock, the hour was three in
the afternoon. He had nothing to do and nowhere to go except wander
in the woods. He didn’t dare sneak back to her uncle’s shack before
dark. He didn’t want her to know he was sleeping there.
    You could stroll into town , he
thought. Charm some other woman to take you in . He had to
play by the rules with Belle. The rest of Kingaken’s females were
fair game.
    He rubbed his sternum, resenting the way it
ached. He wanted Belle. He liked her. Hell, he’d magicked a
pair of condoms so she could sleep with him safely. If he hadn’t
liked her, he wouldn’t have wasted his power that way. He thought
back to her stroking his wings, which were only partly manifested
in this dimension. Her touch had been caring as well as erotic.
    The memory calmed him as he listened to her
walking around upstairs, creaking the old floorboards. Unless his
instincts had completely abandoned him, she was hiding from him up
there. She liked him back. Her heart was just skittish.
    He thought back to the “talk” shows his
cousins in Resurrection had made him watch, claiming they were good
research into life outside magic lands. Belle had what human
experts called intimacy issues - and no wonder, given her history.
If he was patient, she’d come around. Soon enough, he’d have
everything he needed.
    And then what ? an annoying voice
inside him asked.
    As Dubhghall stalked out her front door, he
decided he was not obliged to answer.
     
     

Chapter Five
    BELLE got next to nothing accomplished
during the rest of the afternoon. She was too busy fuming and
trying to blame her weaknesses on the handyman. John Feeney was too
handsome and too damn good in bed. If he’d had a shred of decency,
he wouldn’t flaunt his unfairly alluring charms in front of females
who couldn’t defend against them.
    That train of thought made her laugh. What
man ever felt guilty for being too attractive? She wasn’t even sure
she could call what he did flaunting. For all she knew, he rolled
out of bed looking like a god.
    Tired of the war in her brain and between her
legs - because, really, who wouldn’t crave a repeat of their
kitchen tryst? - she called Susi from her cell phone. The general
store must have been open later than she remembered. Her call went
straight to voicemail.
    Crap , she thought at the loss of that
distraction.
    She tried doing laundry down in the dank
cellar, only to discover the washer’s tub wouldn’t fill with water.
To her layman’s eye, the hoses and spigots were attached and turned
correctly. Unfortunately, because the basement wasn’t finished
beyond stone walls and a cement floor, the process of checking the
connections covered her in cobwebs and grime.
    “Crap,” she repeated, looking down at
herself. These were the last pair of jeans she’d packed. Now she
truly needed the machine to work. She’d have to call John Feeney
whether she wanted to or not.
    “You could call a real plumber,” she
muttered, certain she’d seen an ancient yellow pages in the
kitchen.
    A cold draft whooshed through the cellar,
strong enough to stir Belle’s ponytail. The air sounded as if it
were whispering.
    Belle , she thought it said. Listen .
    The