Fire Dancer (Spellbound in Sedona #2)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

INGO

In the end, Captain Edwards let me off lightly. He was more focused on the demise of Gregor Hadik than my involvement, for one thing — and even more focused on Pippa’s mother. When I’d headed over to the Chinchilla to deliver my report, I found them deep in…well, not exactly conversation. More like a cross-fire of lusty, heated looks.

The Chinchilla also offered a couple of hotel rooms, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they offered day rates.

I also submitted a request for time off, but after two days of radio silence from Edwards — who might have claimed his own days off — I called in to the head office and made my request a statement of intent. Not, Can I take time off? but I am now taking time off .

And for the first time ever, I did. And I truly turned work off.

Pippa turned everything else on, and we spent the next couple of blissful days in bed or in slow, lazy meanderings around the ranch.

“What a day,” Pippa said, taking in the sky, the space, the peace. Peace we felt inside and out.

We’d hiked to the top of the mesa on the west side of the ranch and sat with our legs dangling over the side of a boulder with views that went on for miles.

“I could spend forever unwinding like this.” I sighed, stroking her arm.

A full minute passed before she quietly asked, “Could you, though? I mean, once you start back at work?”

My heart ached for all I’d put her through. And, yes, I had to go back to work in a few days. But I could already feel the difference that closing the Jananovich case had made. My old enemy was gone, and a raw, personal wound had healed.

I nodded firmly. “Yes. I can’t swear to never working another hour of overtime in my life—”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Pippa interjected. “Not when it comes to putting away dangerous criminals. I get that now. But less risk and more downtime would be nice.”

“All on board with that plan, believe me. Especially with more projects to do in my downtime.”

“Projects?” Her eyes sparkled with hope.

Mine, too. I could feel them heat.

“You know, maybe finding a fixer-upper to turn into a home…”

Pippa chuckled. “Maybe even converting a barn?”

“For starters. Then there are those art projects I wanted to assist with…”

“Art? You? Since when?”

I poked her. “Since the day I got to help at a local glass shop. It was fun, actually. Plus, the woman who works there is pretty cute.”

Pippa laughed. “Oh yeah? You think you have a shot with her?”

I nodded firmly. “I think I might.” Then I took a deep breath. “I plan on proving it to her too. Every day for the rest of my life.”

She leaned into my shoulder and nuzzled my chin. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. “Sounds good, but you never know. She could have a really messed-up family.”

I chuckled. “Nah, they’re all right. Her sisters are pretty awesome, and one happens to live with my best friend.” I glanced at the cabin Erin and Nash shared.

“Handy,” Pippa murmured.

“I actually have a lot in common with her father…” I went on.

“That’s good, but you could be getting a nightmare as a mother-in-law.”

“Well, that could be entertaining.”

Pippa snorted. “How little you know.”

“I know she has an in with my boss. That could be useful.”

Pippa sighed. “She has an in with lots of men.”

I turned, cupping her face. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is how much I love her — the glass artist, not her mother.”

“Better be what you meant,” Pippa growled.

I chuckled, then stroked her cheek. “It was. I love you.” I kissed her gently, then rested my head against hers. “And I know we can figure the rest out. Jobs, mothers-in-law…”

“Ranch debt?”

I wrapped her in my arms. “That too. Somehow. Even if it won’t happen overnight.”

“Well, it had better happen soon,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. Then her eyes narrowed on a plume of dust rising from the road. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Alarmed, we headed back down at a sharp pace, aiming for the dusty pickup parked by the main house.

Claire was on the porch, showing her horses to a girl of about the same age, and inside…

I pulled up short, staring at the guests.

“Hi, Pippa. Hi, Ingo.” Abby nodded. “Meet Lana and Tina from Twin Moon Ranch.”

I extended a hand slowly. “We’ve met.”

They seemed friendly enough, but I couldn’t help wondering if I had pissed off the most powerful wolf pack in the Southwest.

Abby motioned us to join them at the dining room table, which was covered in paperwork.

“Tina does the taxes for Twin Moon and Seymour Ranch, and Lana knows a hell of a lot about…well, a lot,” Abby said.

Lana grinned. “Jack-of-all-trades when it comes to land and resource management, I guess you can say. A little law, a little real estate, a little mediating between interest groups…”

“Nice to meet you,” Pippa said, though her eyes held a question mark.

“Kyle put us in touch,” Tina explained.

“Lana was just saying…” Abby nodded for Lana to pick up where she’d left off.

“This property assessment is full of holes.” Lana waved the document that had caused Pippa and her sisters so much heartache. “I’m confident you can contest it and get a more favorable assessment.”

Pippa’s eyes went wide, and Abby nodded to her gleefully.

Tina picked up from there. “In fact, you have grounds to file for a refund on what you’ve overpaid over the past few years.” She tapped the tax forms lying before her. “You could be declaring a lot more deductions than you currently have. The storm damage, for example…”

Abby and Pippa exchanged loaded looks. The storm was their encounter with Harlon Greene. I’d arrived late on the scene with a squad from the agency, and while the details were hazy, it was clear an epic fight had taken place. The sisters had won with a little help from Nash and a big boost from the vortex they remained tight-lipped about.

I’d never asked, and I intended to keep it that way. The less I knew, the more I avoided a conflict of interest with my job. And, heck. Edwards had said it himself. It’s not possible to investigate all supernatural activity in an area. Just the ones causing concern or harm.

“Then there are the animals you rescue,” Lana chimed in.

That was mostly Abby, but all three sisters shared the costs.

Lana went into details on favorable tax scenarios, but I slowly tuned out when it became clear Pippa and her sisters could stop worrying about the ranch.

“I can’t wait to tell Erin!” Abby grinned from ear to ear.

“Speak of the devil…” Pippa turned as another car came down the drive. Erin and Nash were just returning from their super-early morning shift. Pippa waved them over to the main house, made introductions, and shared the good news.

“I can’t believe it. That’s great!” Erin said, hugging Nash, her sisters, Nash, me, and — you guessed it — Nash. Again.

Lana and Tina kindly offered to help with the paperwork, and Erin set a date to sit down and do just that. Apparently, the ranch accounts were her department. A good thing too, because Pippa… Well, each of the sisters had her own particular talents, and paperwork was not Pippa’s.

The guests departed, and I had the distinct impression of a great friendship being born — not just between Claire and Lana’s daughter, but between the women too.

“Oh, I nearly forgot. I picked up the mail.” Erin pulled several letters from her bag. “Business, business, junk mail…” She tossed each in a separate pile. “One for me, more junk, one for you…”

She handed a letter to Pippa, who studied it, then hissed.

“Jananovich?”

Everyone froze.

Pippa locked eyes with me, then studied the envelope. “Postmarked Friday morning — before everything went down.”

No one spoke as Pippa tore the flap of the envelope and removed the letter. A second slip of paper fluttered to the rug. Erin bent to retrieve it while Pippa read aloud.

“ Dear Ms. Martin. It was a pleasure to have met you and have the chance to admire your glasswork. It meets our needs perfectly… ” She snorted and murmured, “Bet your ass, it did.” Then she went on reading. “ Although the committee has not yet met to judge all submissions, I wish to reserve the rights to your work with this small token of my appreciation… ” Pippa flipped the paper over to check the back. “What token?”

Erin straightened slowly, staring at the paper she’d retrieved. A check.

“This.” She turned it around.

Abby stared. “Five thousand dollars?”

“Five thousand?” Pippa shrieked.

“Poetic justice.” Erin grinned.

“If she can cash it,” Abby pointed out.

Pippa rushed through the rest of the letter.

“ This sum is separate from the contest prize purse. Should the committee deem your work the winner, you will receive the entire purse in addition to this payment. I hold your work in high esteem and look forward to seeing more soon. Sincerely, Victor Jananovich. ”

She turned the check over twice, dumb struck. “Wow. But even if I can cash it, wouldn’t it be taking blood money?”

“No, it would be compensation for the glass you lost in the fire,” Abby growled.

I wasn’t too hopeful, but when Pippa went to the bank the next day, the check cashed.

I agreed with Erin and Abby in accepting the money as compensation for everything Pippa had been through. However, she’d decided to give it to Delaney — but Delaney declined, telling Pippa to put it to good use.

And she did, using it to install a decent kitchen and bathroom in the barn. I’d never had such fun shopping, and we found a great deal on secondhand cabinets and appliances. We threw everything we had into the project during my week off work and in the weeks that followed — the perfect antidote, I discovered, to falling into the overtime trap. When my work hours ended, I was happy to hurry back to the ranch and squeeze in another few hours on a home that felt more and more…well, homey …each day.

Every night, Pippa and I fell into bed tired but satisfied. Every morning, we woke up snuggled close. Breakfasts turned into together time rather than just shoveling down food on the run. We drove to town for work together, too, and met up again for the drive back.

A perfect rhythm. A perfect life. Which only left one stone unturned.

The mating bite. A time-old rite of passage that turned a wolf and his mate into partners for life.

I kept reminding my wolf to be patient while Pippa came to grips with everything that had transpired. But one evening when we were putting the final touches on the kitchen cabinets and counter…

“Looking good,” Pippa declared.

“It does,” I agreed, admiring the space.

She patted my rear with a grin. “I wasn’t talking about the cabinets.”

I laughed, then dusted off the counter, checking our work.

Pippa tapped the counter. “We need to test this sucker.”

I nodded, too stuck in construction mode to pick up what she really meant.

I caught on fast, though. Especially when Pippa perched on the edge of the counter and drew me into the space between her legs.

“I think we need to check the joints,” she murmured, working her lips against mine.

I pulled her to the very edge of the counter until all of her was pressed against all of me. Especially the good parts.

My wolf howled at the sensation of all my hard against all her soft .

“Definitely need to check the joints.” My voice went all hoarse.

Good thing I wasn’t a singer. Besides, it was Pippa’s voice I wanted to hear, preferably loud and throaty as she called my name. That way, we could check the acoustics too.

To hell with acoustics, my wolf growled. Let’s get this show on the road.

My hands were already roaming, working out a plan. Her shirt off first or mine?

“Yours,” she breathed, reading my mind. “Definitely yours.”

The second it fluttered to the floor, she zeroed in on a nipple and circled it with her tongue, then nipped.

I hissed, all the while making mental notes. Pippa was giving me a blueprint for what she wanted when our roles were reversed.

She was wearing an old flannel work shirt of mine over a tank top and bra, and it was a lot more fun to take the flannel off her than myself. Her top and the bra followed soon after.

Pippa threw her head back with a moan when I swirled my tongue around the tight beads of her nipples, then hissed in need when I nipped.

“More…” she whispered. “More…”

I slid a hand lower, and she spread her legs wider, breathing hard.

When I paused and looked over my shoulder, she growled.

“You are not stopping now.”

“Just checking for open flames.”

We’d learned the hard way that her fire-wielding powers peaked when she was worked up. But power didn’t always come with control, so I had a good look around for safety’s sake. No candles, no fire in the hearth. Not even a pilot light in the stove. It would be a shame to burn the barn down now.

The pause put us at a good juncture to strip her out of her jeans and me out of mine. The moment I kicked them aside, we hurried back to checking the structural integrity of the counter.

“Yes…” She pushed forward as my fingers parted her folds, then slid in.

She danced against my hand, making my wolf howl.

“Ingo…” she moaned, clutching my hips.

Seconds later, I filled her, inch by hot, straining inch.

Pippa made a sound that was half sigh, half growl.

The counter wasn’t wide enough for her to lie back, so she slung her arms around my shoulders and pushed her hips forward, meeting every thrust.

Red-hot embers sparked in her glazed-over eyes. My vision blurred as a primal beat drummed in my veins.

There, my wolf rumbled greedily, eyeing her neck. Right there…

I licked my lips, watching her pulse tap against her skin.

“Here,” she murmured, brushing a hand over that exact place.

Apparently, she’d had the same thought at the same time.

A mating bite.

For a wolf shifter, the urge was instinctive. Pippa knew all about it, having grown up around wolf shifters and other supernaturals. We’d even talked about it — fantasized, really — years back, but we’d known the time wasn’t right.

But now, the inner mechanism that had once slammed on the brakes was revving the other way. Our time had finally come.

You’re sure? I asked — quietly and only in her mind, afraid to utter the question aloud.

“Never been more sure,” she panted.

My heart soared, but I had to check. Really sure? That you want me — forever?

Never wanted anyone else. And I can’t wait for our forever to finally begin, she added.

Like I needed any extra impetus.

Extending your teeth and plunging them into your true love’s throat might not sound all that appealing, especially after a vampire encounter. But a mating bite was totally different. No sucking, for one thing. No taking, no stealing, no endangering. Just connecting — a permanent connection forged at the height of sex that pushed the experience beyond the physical realm.

My mind exploded with raw, intense sensations. Lust. Pleasure. Unfettered desire.

Pippa clamped a hand over the back of my neck, urging me on. I pushed — with my jaws and my hips — and soon, we were rocking to a primal rhythm.

“Ingo…” She chanted my name, almost like a synonym for forever . In my mind, I did the same, echoing her name.

When I plunged deeper, Pippa dug her heels into my ass and held my head close.

Yes… she breathed into my mind. Oh yes.

My blood surged, and my ears filled with the crackle of a blazing fire. It burned higher and higher, shooting off fiery, swirling tornadoes. Entire nerve chains detonated, and lightning zipped through my veins. I clung to Pippa as we catapulted off the face of the earth and careened through space.

I braced myself, ready to shield her from a hard landing. But we fluttered down, featherlight, instead. Gradually, my sense of orientation returned. My knee bumped the door of a wood cabinet, and the new kitchen counter was in front of me, along with Pippa.

My canines retracted, and I pressed my tongue over Pippa’s skin before easing away. The wound healed as I did, and I exhaled, slumping over her shoulder. Only my arms retained the slightest tension as I held her tightly.

Never letting go, my wolf rumbled.

“Never ever,” Pippa echoed, stroking my back gently.