hip against the dining table. “My brother, Mason, clearly thinks you’re a demon, and my sister . . .”
Shay shrugged in response, folding muscular arms across her chest. She’d been fighting demons on an almost daily basis recently, and it showed in her strong, honed physique. “Jamie, really?” she said. “I got no clue on this one.”
“My sister’s obviously not sure what to make of you, either.” Jamie lowered his voice to a gentle timbre. “So why don’t you just tell me all about it, sweetheart.”
Ari felt no such gentle tendencies. Not when the imposter looked up at him, those beautiful, thick-lashed blue eyes almost more than he could handle. Gazing back at her, his whole body reacted—his groin, his heart, his mind.
No! he tried telling himself. Even if she is Juliana, she left you. Gave up on your love!
Flexing first one hand, then the other, he hated the buzz saw of electricity that kicked on inside his head. And his skull still hurt like a mother. He recalled his concussion then, that fact resounding in his head like the second boom from a mortar, the one that was much more dangerous than the first.
“Aw, damn it all,” he muttered as the room grew swimmy and dark. “Who hit the lights?”
Ajax was instantly at his side, helping him to his seat. “Come on, big bro, let’s go sit down.”
Shay followed Ajax. The married duo always seemed to move as one, and as Jax helped him into the chair, she handed Ari a damp cloth. “Here, press this to your forehead,” she urged, and he complied, leaning his head back. The cool wetness eased the thundering tempo in his brain slightly.
“Who is this female impersonating?” Ajax asked bluntly.
Ari heard a delicate sniff of feminine indignation from beside him. “Apparently manners do not run in the Petrakos bloodline.”
“I was in love with her,” Ari explained, holding the cool cloth against his eyes. “Here, in Savannah. Over a century ago. She’s been dead ever since.”
And so have I , he thought. So have I.
“I am very much here now, sir,” the female said tartly. “Do not speak of me otherwise.”
He peeled the edge of the cloth away, ready to give her the evil eye, and saw that Emma was walking into the kitchen, River right behind her.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Ari groused, noting that both of them had wet, neatly combed hair.
A cozy shower together; even lovelier. Or maybe a long, sensual bath in each other’s arms?
The heat that had been lodged in his groin all night long hit overdrive as an image of hauling Juliana out of her chair and off to his own posh bathroom danced through his mind—of her bare body gleaming with droplets of water, his dark hands all over her porcelain skin. Maybe pulling her into the glass-walled shower, where he’d lather her up, drop to his knees . . .
“Oh, my God!” Emma cried suddenly, eyes still locked on the Juliana imposter. She pointed, turning toward River in explanation, then jabbed her finger significantly. “That’s her . That’s Aunt Juliana, in the chair. That’s my great- great-aunt.”
“Actually, Mason doesn’t think she is Juliana,” Ajax corrected. “He says she’s a demon. One masquerading as your dead relative.”
“Hey, wait!” Ajax looked at Emma. “Was she Shay’s great-great-aunt, too?”
Emma nodded, frowning as she swept her gaze up and down Juliana’s form. “Yes, Juliana was our greatgrandmother’s sister.” She hesitated, gesturing toward the woman. “I’m sorry; not to dispute my cousin’s word—I mean, Mason’s really good at what he does—but that is Juliana. She has the same spirit I channeled earlier tonight. I sense it.”
Ari’s head only pounded harder as the group talked over one another, debating whether Juliana was the real deal or not. He rubbed his temples, almost daring to hope Emma was right, but his heart clenched at the thought, even as it tried to embrace the possibility.
She had broken him, with both
Shay shrugged in response, folding muscular arms across her chest. She’d been fighting demons on an almost daily basis recently, and it showed in her strong, honed physique. “Jamie, really?” she said. “I got no clue on this one.”
“My sister’s obviously not sure what to make of you, either.” Jamie lowered his voice to a gentle timbre. “So why don’t you just tell me all about it, sweetheart.”
Ari felt no such gentle tendencies. Not when the imposter looked up at him, those beautiful, thick-lashed blue eyes almost more than he could handle. Gazing back at her, his whole body reacted—his groin, his heart, his mind.
No! he tried telling himself. Even if she is Juliana, she left you. Gave up on your love!
Flexing first one hand, then the other, he hated the buzz saw of electricity that kicked on inside his head. And his skull still hurt like a mother. He recalled his concussion then, that fact resounding in his head like the second boom from a mortar, the one that was much more dangerous than the first.
“Aw, damn it all,” he muttered as the room grew swimmy and dark. “Who hit the lights?”
Ajax was instantly at his side, helping him to his seat. “Come on, big bro, let’s go sit down.”
Shay followed Ajax. The married duo always seemed to move as one, and as Jax helped him into the chair, she handed Ari a damp cloth. “Here, press this to your forehead,” she urged, and he complied, leaning his head back. The cool wetness eased the thundering tempo in his brain slightly.
“Who is this female impersonating?” Ajax asked bluntly.
Ari heard a delicate sniff of feminine indignation from beside him. “Apparently manners do not run in the Petrakos bloodline.”
“I was in love with her,” Ari explained, holding the cool cloth against his eyes. “Here, in Savannah. Over a century ago. She’s been dead ever since.”
And so have I , he thought. So have I.
“I am very much here now, sir,” the female said tartly. “Do not speak of me otherwise.”
He peeled the edge of the cloth away, ready to give her the evil eye, and saw that Emma was walking into the kitchen, River right behind her.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Ari groused, noting that both of them had wet, neatly combed hair.
A cozy shower together; even lovelier. Or maybe a long, sensual bath in each other’s arms?
The heat that had been lodged in his groin all night long hit overdrive as an image of hauling Juliana out of her chair and off to his own posh bathroom danced through his mind—of her bare body gleaming with droplets of water, his dark hands all over her porcelain skin. Maybe pulling her into the glass-walled shower, where he’d lather her up, drop to his knees . . .
“Oh, my God!” Emma cried suddenly, eyes still locked on the Juliana imposter. She pointed, turning toward River in explanation, then jabbed her finger significantly. “That’s her . That’s Aunt Juliana, in the chair. That’s my great- great-aunt.”
“Actually, Mason doesn’t think she is Juliana,” Ajax corrected. “He says she’s a demon. One masquerading as your dead relative.”
“Hey, wait!” Ajax looked at Emma. “Was she Shay’s great-great-aunt, too?”
Emma nodded, frowning as she swept her gaze up and down Juliana’s form. “Yes, Juliana was our greatgrandmother’s sister.” She hesitated, gesturing toward the woman. “I’m sorry; not to dispute my cousin’s word—I mean, Mason’s really good at what he does—but that is Juliana. She has the same spirit I channeled earlier tonight. I sense it.”
Ari’s head only pounded harder as the group talked over one another, debating whether Juliana was the real deal or not. He rubbed his temples, almost daring to hope Emma was right, but his heart clenched at the thought, even as it tried to embrace the possibility.
She had broken him, with both
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