“Alone?”
“Yes, alone. I don’t share my bed with anyone.”
“Why?”
“Look, Cara, I really don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I don’t want anything except sex. Now that the need has been taken care of, I’d like to—”
“So you got what you wanted, and now you’re done with me?” Desperately, Cara tried to keep the anger out of her voice.
“You’re sounding more like a mortal woman by the minute. Cara, I gave you a good first time, and I made damn sure you got what you wanted, something you can remember, hopefully with pleasure. But do I want to make it permanent or have sex with you again? The answer is no.”
This time, she couldn’t keep the hurt off her face. “Was I that bad?”
Cara was sure that people heard his sigh in town. “No, you weren’t bad, just inexperienced. I prefer to have more experienced women.” His voice took on a hard tone. “As soon as there is a room free at the hotel, I’ll take you into town.” He then turned to leave the room.
Cara was so angry she wanted to yell at him and storm out of the cabin, but she knew it was unrealistic. It was dark and late. She had never been stupid and didn’t see any reason to start now, and that meant letting Jericho know she was no pushover.
“Just give me a ride into town in the morning. I’ll find a place to stay. I don’t need your help.”
“Now you’re just being plain silly. You’re letting your hurt pride get the better of you.”
“Don’t speak to me as if I’m a child. I’ll have you know that I am quite a bit older than you.”
“How much older?” Exactly how old was she? Was she as old as fifty or hundred? Was she older than dirt?
Cara had boxed herself in with that one, but she had every intention of being honest … kind of.
“That would be hard to describe as time passes differently for immortals.”
“Cut the bullshit.”
Cara tried one more time to hold on to her temper, but his coldness was making it hard. He had stopped, given her the choice, and had made not one promise. The whole time they’d had sex, Jericho had never lost control. Even when he had climaxed, his facial expression had never changed. It was her who had wanted and expected more from him. It was not Jericho’s fault, but she was still pissed, and her body was still achy as if she had missed something.
“Run away, Jericho. I haven’t asked one thing from you other than maybe a repeat performance, and even that was too much for you.” She stood, glaring at his arrogant face.
A cruel laugh left his lips. “Like all women, if you don’t want to answer a question, you strike out. You think my not wanting you again means you frighten me when, in fact, you don’t scare me at all, baby, whatever your real age. You simply don’t interest me. I was horny, and you were better than a hand job.”
“You’re crude.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m tired, and I am finished with this conversation. If you mean what you say, then you need to get to bed. I prefer you leave early in the morning.” Jericho left without another word.
Cara swallowed around the lump lodged in her throat. She didn’t want him to hear her crying. Instead, she went to her room and took off her clothes then cried in the shower where the running water prevented him from hearing her.
She was angry she had pushed him, but she had been unable to stop herself. She had wanted him again, and rather than tempting him, she had pushed him away. She had seen his past through Grimm’s eyes and knew she must pull back; however, she had never been one to run from a challenge.
How many arguments had she and Grimm had over souls? Each of those times they had both been called, she had fought for the soul to have a second chance while Grimm disagreed. The soul would look at them in fear, knowing who they wanted to win, but more often than not, Grimm had. That did not keep her from trying, though. If she could stand up to Grimm, she certainly could stand up to Jericho. However, for some reason, something inside Cara told her Jericho was the more dangerous adversary.
After Cara showered, she stood in her room, not tired. Seeing a television in the corner, she walked over to it and played with it until it turned on. Finding a control similar to the one Jericho had used, she lay on the bed and fiddled with it until she successfully changed the channels. She was looking for another comedy, needing a good laugh, when she flipped another channel, and a scene appeared on the screen.
Cara’s mouth dropped open. Jericho had not shown her a movie like this earlier, thank goodness. Her face turned a bright red. The man and woman twisted around the bed. The woman was groaning in excitement, holding the man close, gripping his hips between impossibly long legs. It wasn’t the woman who had Cara’s attention, though; it was the man.
He wasn’t as good-looking as Jericho, and his body definitely didn’t compare, but what drew her attention were his movements. This man’s face was tense with a sheen of sweat covering his body, and he trembled as much as the ecstatic woman. This man exhibited no control, only complete enjoyment in the woman he was thrusting into.
Jericho had never, at any time, looked like this while they’d had sex. Just the opposite, he had never lost control once. Even when he had come inside her, she would never have known by his facial expression if she hadn’t felt him stiffening beneath her. She meant no more to him than any other woman he’d had sex with.
Disheartened, Cara was about to turn the television off when the woman took control and really gave Cara an education in how to turn a man into a trembling mess. Cara grinned and made herself more comfortable on the bed. After all, a little education never hurt anyone.
* * *