Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [20]
Judith nodded, knowing Blythe was right. Levi Hammond was so in love with Rikki, her autism didn’t seem to be in any way a deterrent. “Does it make you think maybe there’s someone out there for the rest of us? He’s so different, and I can’t imagine either one with anyone else. They were made for each other. Maybe there really is a Mr. Right.”
Her voice lacked conviction and she knew it. There would never be a Mr. Right for her. She couldn’t trust herself, or her talent, to not ever put those she loved in peril again. She was attracted to the wrong kind of man. In the past few years, she hadn’t even dared look at a man with any degree of interest. She didn’t dare go down that path ever again. Worse, she felt as if her own body had died. She hadn’t been the least attracted, physically or emotionally, to any man she’d met in the past five years.
Blythe shook her head. “I’m past the age where some knight in shining armor is going to ride in on a white steed and sweep me off my feet.”
Airiana did a few little dance steps across the thick, creamy carpet. “I think Levi is going to be starved for male company, poor man.”
Judith forced another laugh, but that shadow passing over her house hadn’t kept going, it had slipped inside her and a deep dread blossomed and grew.
3
SHE came toward him, walking with unhurried steps, un-aware of his presence. Stefan stood in the shadows, just inside the alcove by the gallery door, his back to the building, where he could see anything coming at him. Judith Henderson was far more breathtaking in person than in her photographs. She was still a good distance away, so he had plenty of time to absorb her. Tall, long legs, her suit as elegant as they came. A pencil skirt hugged the curve of her hips lovingly. Her short, flared matching jacket was severe black, but the bright red silk shirt beneath it clung like a second skin and looked as sexy as hell.
Women didn’t affect his pulse, or his body, yet deep inside where no one could see, the earth shook so hard something cracked wide open, deep, a fissure he couldn’t repair. Emotions long buried, thought dead, rose with the force of a volcano, shaking him. He felt stripped of his armor, vulnerable, broken open and entirely exposed. His hand slid inside his jacket to the familiar feeling of the butt of his Glock. The moment he touched the weapon, he knew he was in trouble.
Judith Henderson threatened him on an elemental level. The danger was almost tangible, yet he was at a loss as to why. She had that same faraway, lost look on her face that was in the photograph he carried with him, next to his skin in the inside pocket of his shirt where he kept the small tablet that would end his life should he fall into the wrong hands. This woman was the type who brought men to their knees. Even the strongest man bared his soul, handed his heart into keeping and was lost for all time just from a smile from those angel lips. He could hold his breath just waiting for her to smile—at him—for him. Just him.
He willed her to look up. To see him. He braced himself for the impact, knowing it was coming. Judith took two more unhurried steps in her high heels with that splash of tantalizing red streaking through the unrelenting black. His heart would have kicked into high gear if he’d allowed it, just at the anticipation of her gaze meeting his, but he was far too disciplined for that. He didn’t take his eyes from her, absorbing her into his being. God, she was beautiful.
Her eyes flicked to the shadows and away again. Deliberately he shifted his weight. Her gaze jumped back to the alcove—to him. Her eyes widened, met his. His body reacted, blood rushing hotly through every vein, through his heart, spreading like a firestorm to settle in his groin. The shock of it, of that unrelenting, fierce ache, shook him. He was never out of control, his body completely disciplined, yet he was full and hard and throbbing with need, just with her eyes meeting