He took her arm and gently but firmly stuffed her into the passenger seat. She slid reluctantly into the car. He got a fine, fleeting glimpse of a nicely rounded thigh. As an added bonus, the tear in the violet dress revealed a sliver of lacy black panties. Everything inside him tightened another notch. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already been thoroughly aroused before the confrontation in the lane. The burn was hitting him hard.
She looked up from the seat, brows scrunched together a little. “But why would they go off like that?” Alarm widened her eyes. “Good grief, do you think that Max lured Araminta away because he has designs on her? Maybe he’s out there somewhere right now seducing her.”
It dawned on him that from this vantage point he had an excellent view into the inviting shadows of the front of her dress. He sighed. Wrong time and definitely the wrong place. Just his luck.
“They’re dust bunnies, Celinda, not a pair of star-crossed lovers. They’ll come back when they’re ready.”
“If that bunny of yours takes advantage of Araminta, I am going to hold you personally responsible.”
He said nothing, just looked at her.
She winced. “Sorry. That does sound sort of dumb, doesn’t it? I mean, it’s not like either of us knows how dust bunnies think, let alone what their mating habits are like.”
“Can’t be much worse than mine,” Davis muttered.
“What did you say?”
He pretended he hadn’t heard the question and closed the door very deliberately.
When he got in beside her and rezzed the engine, she turned in the seat, studying him with a concerned expression.
“You look sort of strange,” she said.
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“Are you going to faint or something?”
“Or something,” he said deliberately. “But not for a while yet.”
“Maybe I should drive.”
He gripped the wheel very tightly and pulled away from the curb. “I’m still capable of driving.”
She did not appear entirely reassured, but she turned to look at the alley one more time.
“What about Max and Araminta?”
“They know their way home. The Quarter isn’t all that big. Your apartment is only about a half mile from here. My condo is just as close in the opposite direction.”
She did not respond to that, but she shifted back around in her seat and clipped her seat belt. He had the uneasy feeling that she was doing a lot of thinking. That probably meant trouble ahead.
He made himself concentrate on his driving, working his way back to Celinda’s neighborhood via the maze of narrow streets and lanes that laced the Quarter.
“About this business of you being a sort of hunter,” Celinda asked in a suspiciously unconcerned tone of voice.
It had been too much to hope that she would let his earlier explanation go, he thought.
“It’s not a business for me.” He stopped for a light. “Oakes Security is my business. I’m not a Guild man.”
“But you can de-rez ghosts.”
“Yes. But as I told you, the ability to work silver light isn’t the usual kind of talent. That’s one of the reasons I never joined the Guild.”
“But you are a type of dissonance-energy para-resonator,” she pressed, cautious but determined.
“Yes.”
She cleared her throat again. “Can I assume that you’re now in that phase they call afterburn?”
The conversation was deteriorating rapidly. It was like watching a slow-motion train wreck.
“That’s one term for it,” he said.
“It’s an adrenaline and testosterone thing, right?”
“I’m not a teenager, Celinda. I can handle my hormones.”
“I’ve heard about the postburn syndrome,” she continued in the same polite, too-neutral tone. “A big testosterone rush.”
“Seems like just about everybody has heard about the syndrome.”
“Yes, well, I hate to break this to you, but women talk.”
Right, and he could pretty much guess what women said about hunters who were in the grip of an afterburn. The rumors were true, and they contributed heavily to some of the long-standing negative social attitudes toward the Guild.
There was no getting around the fact that there was nothing like pulling a little ghost light to slam a man into a state of full-blown sexual arousal. The bigger the ghost, the stronger the physical response. Which explained why mothers warned their daughters to stay clear of hunters and why the bars and taverns in the Old Quarter that catered to Guild men were popular with adventurous women, coeds looking for excitement, and bachelorette parties.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to jump on top of you,” he said.
“You can’t blame a lady for wondering.”
Startled, he gave her a quick, searching look. In the amber glow of the dash lights he could see that the corner of her mouth was curved upward, maybe twitching just a bit.
“A word of advice.” The light changed. He snapped the sensitive twin mag shift into gear. “This is not a good time to tease me.”
“Got it.”
“You’re not scared?” he asked.
“Of you? No. You’re in full control.”
He contemplated that briefly. “How do you know I’m in control?”
She raised one shoulder in a tiny shrug. “I just know it.”
“You sound very sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
He wanted to ask her what made her so damned certain that he wasn’t going to pounce, but he decided it would probably be a good idea to stop talking about anything even remotely related to sex.
“I melted amber dealing with that dopp,” he said quietly. “Do you know what that means?”
“That after the rush, you’re going to have to sleep for a few hours?”
“Right. I need to get you home and then get back to my place before I crash.”
“I understand.”
He turned a corner and drove along another cramped street. Only three more blocks. He could do this.
It seemed like an eternity before he eased the Phantom into an empty parking space at the curb in front of Celinda’s apartment. He de-rezzed the engine, unfastened the seat belt, and opened his door.
“Never mind,” Celinda said quickly. “You don’t have to walk me upstairs. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll see you to your door.”
“The clock is ticking on your afterburn. You’ll need the time to drive back to your place.”
He set his back teeth together. “I said I’ll see you to your door.”
She sighed. “Okay, be that way.”
“What way?”
“Stubborn, hardheaded, and difficult.”
“Hey, give me some credit. I’m good at all those things.”
“I guess it’s true what they say. Everyone has a talent.”
She was out of the car by the time he got around to her side of the vehicle. He took her arm.
He realized his mistake immediately. He never should have touched her. The physical contact had an effect similar to sending power through tuned amber, except in this instance it wasn’t just his psi energy alone that was suddenly very, very focused. It felt like every cell in his body was riveted by the woman beside him, clamoring to get closer, to get inside her.
He was drunk on her unique scent, a mix of herbal shampoo and the essence of pure Celinda. He didn’t want to merely touch her; he wanted to stroke every part of her from her toes to her ears. He wanted to drag her
