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The studio lay in a charred, smoking ruin. The firemen didn’t mention finding a corpse inside, and Naomi wondered what had happened to the skinwalker.
In bed in her bedroom, Jamison brushed Naomi’s hair from her face and kissed her. “If Coyote hadn’t taken you away, the skinwalker would have killed you. He was trying to weaken me by killing my mate. And he’d have been right. Without you, I’d have wanted to die.”
“So you let him corner you in your studio?” Naomi said angrily. “Good plan.”
“I knew if I could lure him to the studio, I’d have the means to kill him. They don’t like fire, remember?” Jamison grinned. “Who says art isn’t useful?”
“But you might have died too. You had no way of knowing whether you could get out.”
Jamison kissed the corner of her mouth. “If I hadn’t killed him, he’d have come after you. I’d do anything to keep that from happening.”
Naomi rose on her elbows. “Don’t die for me, Jamison. I need you alive.”
“You got along all right the two years I was gone.”
“No, I didn’t.” She pulled back the sheets and slid on top of him, thighs straddling his. “I told you I did, but it was bullshit. A part of me was missing, like there was a hole in my life. I need you, and not because you’re handy repairing my roof or making pretty sculptures.”
Jamison’s grin was wicked. “Is it because you need a man between your legs? Please say yes.”
“Only partly.” Her blood warmed, but she wasn’t finished yelling at him yet. “I need to see you every day. I need to hear your beautiful voice. I love how you love Julie and how you made her believe in you. I love you, not just how you make love. Although you’re good in that department too.” She moved her hips, feeling the hard ridge of his erection. He was so solid under her, so male.
“Good,” Jamison said in his dark voice. “Because you’re a beautiful woman, you’re sitting naked on top of me, and your breasts are tight and right where I can touch them.” He traced a swollen bud with his thumb.
“So now it’s time for seduction?” she asked.
“I hope so.” His hand drifted up her back, protective, supportive. “You’re going to marry me, aren’t you? Even if the Changer bond didn’t work, we can bind in th
e human way.”
Naomi’s heart squeezed both in joy and regret. Two days before, she’d never heard of the Changer bond, but now she wished they’d have been able to complete it. It meant so much to Jamison.
“I’ll marry you,” she said. Now, tomorrow, whenever you want.
Jamison pulled her down to hold her tight. “Thank you. I’ll try to make it a hell of a lot better than your first marriage.”
Naomi laughed. “You won’t have to work hard for that.”
“But I am going to work at it. Because you’ve done so much for me.” He stroked her hair. “I love that you take what life throws at you and face it head-on. I love that you took in a stuck-up Navajo storyteller and made him your love slave.”
“You aren’t stuck up.” She marveled at how he could think that. “You have time for everyone.”
“Because you taught me. I thought I was so smart, coming down here to teach white people what life was all about. You and Julie blew away my prejudices with one cup of coffee.” His grin widened. “I noticed you didn’t argue about the love-slave part.”
“I don’t mind having a love slave. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to cup your breasts in my hands.” He did so, thumbs stroking her areolas. “Then I’m going to lift you a little bit.” He slid his hand under her thighs, coaxing her to rise. “Then I’m going to enter you. And I don’t feel like being gentle.”
In spite of his words, his touch was tenderness itself as he lowered her onto him.
His next thrust was not so calm. Jamison tightened his grip on her hips and pulled her onto him, stabbing deep into her.
“I love it,” she whispered, her head dropping back. “Jamison, I don’t care that the bonding ceremony didn’t work. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Jamison said, then his rumbling voice drifted into groans, and he made love to her as though he’d never let her go.
utside, something stirred under the remains of the smoldering copper roof. A blackened hand pushed away a sheet of hot roofing, and a monster crawled out. He was a burned husk, hair gone, eyes blind, but he moved with determination. Kill.
He sensed something sitting in wait for him, a white presence, though he couldn’t see it. He stopped.
