Fields of Thunder Read online

  He took a drink. “The horse is important to you?”

  Her smile held a bit of sadness. “Imperative.”

  Interesting choice of word. He truly wanted to press more but another knock on her door interrupted them. When it opened before she could say anything, he froze, ready to spring into action if it turned out to be trouble.

  A tall, muscular man stepped through. His black hair brushed the shoulders of his white T-shirt. Hazel eyes took in the entire situation in moments before lingering on him.

  “Shit,” Roz muttered under her breath.

  Not that it mattered, Altair would swear the man had heard her, for he snapped his gaze back to her.

  “Roz,” he said in a commanding tone.

  She stabbed her chopsticks into her food with a sigh. “I told you I missed dinner, well, this is one of my brothers. Altair Sagal, meet Tiarnán Malone.”

  Altair stood and immediately found himself defensive. There was something about the way the man looked at him. They stood there, sizing one another up, until a feminine throat clearing snapped them both out of it.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

  Tiarnán stared before taking his hand. Nothing nice went between them.

  “Oh for God’s sake, be nice.” Roz stepped between them, breaking off their connection. “Tiarnán, I’m sorry I missed dinner but something came up.”

  The man’s reply was too low for Altair to hear but he couldn’t miss the flash of embarrassment spreading over Roz’s face. They had a soft exchange but soon the large man stepped away from Roz and moved to him.

  Altair was used to people trying to intimate him. It wasn’t anything new to him. However, this time, there was something untamed and wild about the man before him.

  “She is my sister. You hurt her and I will kill you.” The deadpanned words had no humorous intent in them at all.

  Altair realized the man meant everything he’d just uttered. Before Altair could reply, Tiarnán walked out after casting one final look to Roz.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “He’s a bit protective.”

  More than a bit. “You are his sister—it is his job to be protective.”

  She shrugged. “One would think that I am a grown woman who can do her own thing now. I mean, I actually get to court all on my own and I don’t need help dressing in the mornings.” Her sarcasm drenched the words flowing from her mouth in swift succession.

  “I am sure he means well.”

  She snorted and picked up her food. “Tell me he didn’t threaten you.” At his silence, she gestured at him with one hand. “See? There’s protective and then there’s Tiarnán.”

  Altair sat back in his seat. “Earlier you said siblings. How many brothers do you have?”

  Chapter Three

  “No, Roz. I don’t like him.”

  Roz crossed her arms and tapped the toe of her cowboy boot on the hard-packed dirt of the corral. “Tiarnán, you seem to be under the misconception that I was asking for your permission to go out and see him.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You weren’t?”

  The fact he’d said it so seriously almost had her snorting with amusement. Daft man actually thought she should be.

  “Let me enunciate so we are clear on this. No, I am not asking your permission. I do not need it, being as I am a grown woman.”

  “You need to be out looking for your artifact—not sleeping with a man who is dangerous.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why is he dangerous? Because I am fucking him?” Tiarnán’s expression nearly made her burst out in laughter. “I am, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. Just because I am does not mean I am not searching either. Maybe you should go out and get laid. Perhaps it would put you in a better state of mind. Let’s not forget you rarely leave here, so how are you searching for your artifact?”

  “This is not a discussion about my sex life nor my artifact.”

  “Maybe if you had one, it would be,” she muttered under her breath. It didn’t matter—he heard her. He always heard.

  “Trent was—or is—part of The New Order. What makes you think this guy isn’t?”

  “Not everyone I fuck is The New Order. I’d like to point out I never touched Trent that way.” Her body shuddered with revulsion at the mere mention. The complete opposite of how it was when she thought about Altair. “What makes you think he is?” she countered.

  “There’s something about him. He’s hiding secrets.”

  Her breath left her in a rush as she tossed her hands up in exasperation. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, T,” she said, reverting to what she’d called him as a young girl. “All of us are hiding secrets. It’s not like we go around telling people we’re Guardians who will be called on to save the world at some time in the future. I certainly don’t mention to people that beneath my power business suit, I can call up weapons that in no way would make it beyond the metal detectors—or that the lot of us can communicate with one another telepathically.” She put her hands on her hips. “At least I don’t. And I surely don’t tell them our foster father is damn ancient and has power I can’t even begin to fathom, much less that there is a demon living under the house who is actually very nice to me and makes me weapons. I have secrets. So do you. So why is it okay for you to have them but not this man?”

  “Because he’s sleeping with you.”

  The horse she’d bridled earlier, the buckskin mare, trotted over and put her head on Roz’s shoulder with a soft, comforting whicker.

  “You didn’t act like this with Taylor or Mal. Why am I the lucky one? I enjoy sex. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m careful. Besides, we both know that Cale was a fucking man-whore up until Taylor came into his life. Did he get warnings about all the women he slept with? Somehow I doubt it. So maybe you can stop with the double standard.” Derision covered her tone as if it had been submerged in it.

  “Roz,” he began. “You have such a dirty mouth here.”

  “No,” she said. “You listen to me, T. I’m not in court. I don’t have to be good and proper. I don’t curse around the kids but this is you and me, and I’m pissed at you and this archaic ideal you have of women and what they can do—or at least with me. Deal with it. You have worse language than I do when you want. Besides, I didn’t exaggerate about Cale and you know it. I am not a small, skinny kid anymore, T. I am a trained Guardian. I can hold my own. I know I don’t look like much next to the likes of you, Cale or Billy, but I am stronger than I look. Hell, I am sure even Dracen looks more capable than me. Scratch that. She’s more capable than anyone, possibly even you. But even Aminta can look more dangerous than I can and she’s shorter than my five-four stature—quarter of an inch—but I’ll take what I can get over her. I get it. I have the look of innocence about me. It happens in court too, but here’s the advantage for me… That means they underestimate me.”

  She patted the mare’s head as she gathered the reins in one hand. Sliding her hand along the muscled neck, Roz readjusted so she stood alongside the equine. After fisting the reins and mane in her hands, she vaulted onto the bare back. The mare snorted and pawed the ground, ready for her run.

  Putting her gaze down on the man whom she’d been raised beside she said, “You do as well. I’m not that little girl anymore and you’re going to have to let Aminta and Dracen go as well, T, like it or not.” She fixed her hands and used the reins to move the mare to the gate. “Let us out.”

  Thankfully Tiarnán didn’t argue with her, just walked by and did as she’d requested. Touching her heels to the sides of the horse beneath her, Roz rode off without a look back, needing to get away. This was her sanctuary—riding with the horses. She preferred not to use a saddle or bridle, but she’d had children watching her earlier and had put one on, not wanting to somehow allow them to think not using tack would be okay.

  The mare picked up her gait as they moved along, the walk becoming a trot. Roz settled into the easy and flowing motion of the
horse.

  “Are you okay, Roz?”

  “How did I know you would be popping into my head, Dracen?”

  “Because I can feel your stress.”

  “It’s T’s fault. He wants to judge me on the man I was sleeping with.”

  “Was? It’s over?”

  Lord, she hoped not. “I don’t know. I missed that dinner with you all and he came to my office and found us.”

  “Wait, Tiarnán walked in on you having sex with a guy? Is the man dead?”

  Dracen’s voice, along with the ride, eased her tension. “No, he found us eating and talking. Fully clothed. But I know he knew what we’d been doing in there earlier. He’s got the nose of that damn cat as well as the sneaky intimidation bit.”

  “So he’s being the older brother.”

  “The problem is he didn’t do that with Cale or Billy. Just accepted their mates without question.”

  “Are you saying this man is your mate?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” The horse crow-hopped beneath her and she loosened her pull on the reins. “Sorry, girl.” “I am merely stating that I don’t want to be the exception when it comes to acceptable sexual practices.”

  “You know he’s just protective.”

  “He threatened him, Dracen.”

  “He’s the oldest of all of us and I am sure he feels some sort of responsibility to the five of us. Not to mention, he’s taking on the responsibilities of the world.”

  “He doesn’t have to.”

  “We know that. The problem is, that is who he is. My question for you is, was he good?”

  Her body responded with the mere thought of that man and without missing a beat, Roz guided Timber to the water, needing to cool herself down. “Better than anyone. I was walking stiffly for a few days after it.”

  A rare laugh from Dracen reached her. “Then I would say keep him.”

  “I’m having dinner with him tonight at his place. That’s what started this entire thing with T and me. He told me no.”

  “No—like you asked him for permission?” Her tone was incredulous.

  “Exactly what I said.”

  “Face it, Roz. He is always going to be the overprotective brother. Ignore him and have fun. My next question is, how did your man react to his threat?”

  She stopped Timber in the stream, the water flowing around her ankles and the belly of the mare. With a deep breath, she gazed around her—the forest was unusually quiet. “It was odd, Dracen. He didn’t seem fazed in the slightest bit. No flinching, no outward expression of emotion on either end of the spectrum.” She continued to search the area for what was making her wary.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Forest is quiet.”

  “Need me?”

  “I will be okay.”

  “Let me know. I’m out patrolling the property’s edge. Double checking the wards and planting a few surprises.”

  “Have fun.”

  “I will. Call if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Dracen.”

  “You’re welcome. Oh, and Roz? I want to meet this man.”

  “I’ll talk to him about it.”

  The connection ended, and she looked around once more. Her sign was fine, the horse beneath her calm as well. “Must be my overactive imagination is all.” She rubbed the horse’s shoulder. “Let’s go, girl.” They continued on through the water toward the bottom of the switchback she was going to ride up. She enjoyed just being out on the property, even more so when she was in the company of horses.

  * * * *

  Altair used his thumb to kick the flame of his lighter to life so he could put it to the wicks of the candles on his table. He looked around his place. The past three days since he’d first had the most mind-blowing sex of his life had gone by in a blur. His work had been so demanding he’d not had much time to pursue her.

  Didn’t stop him from smirking with arrogance when he’d seen the stiff way she’d moved. It did something to that ego of his to know he was the one who’d done that to her. However, yesterday, despite his hectic schedule and hers, he’d found himself standing outside the office he’d spent hours fucking her in. Then he’d asked her on a date. She’d agreed and now he was just waiting for her to arrive.

  He’d even started a fire to help combat the chill that still arrived with each night. Winter might be over but in the Pacific Northwest spring nights could still make a person want more warmth.

  He checked his watch and looked to the door. One minute prior to her time of arrival and he had butterflies in his gut. He’d not been this uncertain since he’d first joined the military. Shaking away those memories, he put his lighter back in his pocket and stared at the flickers of light on the walls. Low music played in the background. He watched the second hand tick toward the twelve. The moment it hit, someone knocked on his door.

  Punctual.

  He cast a final look about, making sure it wasn’t a mess, then strode to answer the knock. Drawing the door open, he smiled slightly at the woman who stood on the other side. Roz Hill. Beyond the porch, he could see the steady fall of a spring rain.

  “Right on time,” he said by way of greeting.

  “I’m glad. I was hung up at the office and I was worried I would be late.”

  “Come on in.” He stepped to the side so she could walk by him.

  She brushed by him, making no attempt to avoid touching him. In fact, she pressed into him and he knew that it was a deliberate act. His cock, which had begun swelling from him just thinking of her in his place, went rock hard.

  No, tonight is about getting to know her. The steel rod in his pants didn’t agree.

  Her natural curls brushed her shoulders as she shrugged out of her coat and draped it over one arm. Today her suit was rose, complemented by black shoes.

  He closed his eyes and prayed he would have the strength to do this without ripping another one of her suits. Closing the door behind him, he reached out a hand. “May I take your coat?”

  She handed it to him, a soft, playful smile on her lips. “I like your place. Open. And your furniture is beautiful. Did you make them?” She gestured around at the pieces.

  He hung her rain-pelted black coat up on the rack by the door. “I did.” He allowed the pride in his work to show in his tone.

  She walked to the couch and bent for a closer look. The curve of her ass in that skirt mesmerized him. He tore his gaze away and followed how her fingers caressed the wood, touching each intricate carving he’d done. His body shuddered with anticipation at the thought of her tracing him in such a way.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  She looked at him with a grin. “Haven’t I proved that you don’t need to get me drunk to sleep with you?” She stood tall and waved a hand as if to brush aside her comment. “I would love one.”

  “What do you drink? I have wine, beer, or something stronger, if you would prefer it.”

  “Wine, please.”

  He walked to the kitchen and reached up for two wine glasses. Then he poured them each a drink. She whistled low and he turned to find she’d accompanied him.

  “Did you make this island as well?”

  “I did.” He handed her the glass.

  She sipped and he groaned as her eyes closed in pleasure. “Perfect. That hits the spot.”

  “Glad you like it. Would you like the tour? Or are you ready to eat now?”

  “Eat then tour.” She sipped again and he followed the movement of her throat. “One question.”

  “What would that be?”

  “No kiss?”

  Patience. He put himself right before her, wrapped a hand in her soft hair and tipped her head back before claiming her mouth. She whimpered and sank into him. Possessive need clawed at him but he ignored it for the moment and drew back.

  “Right this way.” His voice was gruff. He led her to the candlelit table and held her seat for her.

  Their meal was full of light and easy chatter, after
which he did as promised and took her on a tour.

  “You have an amazing setup,” she said, resting her shoulders against the wall of his shop as she sat on the bench, a glass of wine beside her. “Why do you not sell custom pieces? Or do you and I’m just ignorant about it?”

  He flipped a burnisher in his hand a few times before tapping the handle against the card scrapers he had laid out on the bench. “No, I do not yet. I am building a few more so I have some stock. Right now, I am working construction, but at some point I will go completely into woodworking and custom building.”

  The smooth brown skin of her leg was a continual distraction to him. He set the burnisher down and touched her thigh, just below the hem of her skirt. No tights, but then, she didn’t need them.

  “Are you staying the night?” he asked, tracing idyllic patterns on her skin.

  “If you want me to, yes.” Her voice fell like the soft, warm breeze on a summer’s night.

  Up and down he moved his fingers, dipping them closer each time to the juncture of her thighs. “I want.”

  “Come on then,” she said. “Take me back inside, give me some of that dessert you promised then give me another much more personal tour of the inside.”

  He lifted her off the bench, allowing her body to slide intimately down his. “You’re going to be my dessert.”

  She cupped him through his slacks. “Likewise. But I have a feeling I am going to need the energy.”

  “Damn straight you will.” He jerked his head to the door. “Come on.”

  She waited in the living room while he put the cake on plates. Carrying one in each hand, he walked to the couch and put them on the coffee table. She stood before the mantle, looking at the few items he had there.

  “What is this?” she asked, pointing at a medal display case.

  “My past,” he said, moving to her side.

  “This isn’t American military. Where did you serve and what does this mean?”

  “No, it’s not American. I served in the Middle East.”

  “Cryptic answer.” She put all her attention on him. “What did you do?”