Read Online Cold Iron by D. L. McDermott - Free Book Online Page B

of course, hadn’t worked out well, but she’d been too naive to know that it could be better.
    Everyone loved Frank. Collectors craved his opinion. Colleagues cultivated him. Men wanted to be his friend. Women fell at his feet. The problem must be hers, she’d always assumed. When she’d lost her faith in Frank, she’d reassessed all of her assumptions—and realized that the problem hadn’t been her. She’d tried dating after the divorce, but after a few meetings, whenever the relationship began to turn physical, she always cried off.
    Eventually, she’d given up, decided that something in her had broken while she was with Frank and that she was unlikely to find a man to fix it.
    But Conn wasn’t a man.
    “Promise to stay out of my head.” She swallowed. “I do want you to touch me. I do want to know what it’s like, but I can’t give up control like that. I can’t.”
    He stepped closer again. “You can keep hold of the key the whole time.”
    “And you’re sure you can make me . . . ,” She trailed off. She didn’t think she’d ever used the word out loud in that context.
    “Come,” he supplied. “Yes. I’ll even make a bargain with you. Let me touch you. Let me pleasure you. If you’re unmoved, I’ll take the Summoner and never approach you again.”
    “You told me Fae bargains are never fair.”
    “They aren’t. You’re certain to lose. And when you do, you’re mine.”
    H e had her now. He wished there was time to savor the moment, but he knew better than to let a bargain go unsealed. She reached for him tentatively, but the time for hesitation was over. He bent and swept her into his arms.
    She squeaked, a little noise of surprise, the kind a kitten might make. But she didn’t struggle or try to break his hold. And he knew she was no kitten. More like a caged lioness.
    “Where are we going?” she asked. Her hands were trapped against his chest. He felt her move them, explore him. She was looking up at him wide-eyed, and he realized she was completely unconscious of what she was doing. Touching him because she could not resist doing so. It was powerfully arousing, her awakening sensuality.
    “You’ve only known pleasure alone in the dark,” he said. “Let me take you into the light.”
    “Um, it’s dark out, and it will be for hours. And if you turn lights on, security will come.”
    “Real light. Not your false day.”
    He carried her to the center of the Roman gallery, where there was an altar, finely carved, beneath a domed oculus, bathed in moonlight. He mounted the platform on which it stood and sat on the stone with Beth in his lap.
    She squirmed. “You can’t sit on this. It’s two thousand years old.”
    He ignored her protest. “I’m older still. And it’s stone, Beth. It has weathered worse.” Then he stood back up abruptly. “Unless you scream loud enough to shatter the stone.”
    She rolled her eyes and struck his shoulder. “That isn’t going to happen.”
    “You threw me into a wall in Clonmel,” he teased, still holding her above the stone.
    “You’re mistaken,” she said, her whole body suddenly tense in his arms. “Put me down.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “You’re misremembering what happened in Clonmel.” There was a note of raw panic in her voice.
    “Am I?” He had not considered that she might be aware of something different inside her, something that set her apart from other humans. And that she might be frightened of it.
    “Let me go.” She twisted like an eel in his arms, and he feared she would fall and hurt herself on the stone floor.
    “Easy, Beth.” He lowered her to the ground.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this, Conn.”
    “Beth.” He reached for her. Had not realized until now that the pleasure of having her in his arms was more than anticipation, more than desire. He couldn’t put a name to it, could only name its absence: desolation.
    She backed away, shook her head.