Chapter 2

From one more dream filled with the warm, nervous smiles of his dead friend, partner, and lover, Aiden awoke with a start. Mind draining of memories packed with sensitive Tim Owens, the latest victim of fucking cancer, his hand clenched the supple roundness of a firm buttock. In response, an indistinct murmur sent hot breath across his chest.

Heart racing, he scoured his dark bedroom. Through the hazy afterimage of the ring’s soft pulses still echoing in his mind, he looked down to find Anna’s disheveled hair sprayed across his torso. Arm tight to him, she lay, straddling one leg, with those magnificent, heated curves pressing his ribs.

“Just as she always does,” he whispered, caressing the sleek warm skin of her perfect rear, then snorted. “Always?”

Rory would be wondering; she’d been spending more nights with Aiden. Not that her husband would complain much; he received enough video and stills.

“Shit,” he said, glancing towards her phone, tossed to the bedside table before her hands had torn apart the fancy hairstyle, sending shiny auburn tresses billowing out behind her as she’d leaped to the mattress. “Forgot again.”

On the other hand, what did she have to share? Since his return from the funeral, they’d done no more than snuggle and sleep together. As if possessing radar, which, of course, thanks to the ring, the gorgeous busty woman sorta did, she’d appeared on his doorstep.

Still shaken with grief, he hadn’t even called for her. Anna had simply arrived wearing only a shiny pink robe and a smile. The latter he’d needed more than anything, but once the robe disappeared and those wondrous curves slipped into the sheets, her warmth had slowed his pulse and gotten him to return the grin.

“Guess that says something,” he murmured into the darkness.

Yes, they’d come a long way, and she remained much more than a simple companion. Still, she played her own game with her husband.

“Gonna have to send her home,” he whispered before lowering his lips to the silky tresses atop her head.

At a soft tinkling from beyond the bedroom doorway, he froze. The sound appeared again, and even as he slipped free of her limbs, the ring’s image flared in his skull.

“What is it?” he murmured in its direction.

Chest tightening, he slowed his slide from the sheets to snatch a pair of shorts. A sudden flash of circular flame in his mind matched an unfamiliar noise, more of a quiet puff, from the main room. Another whoosh met his ears as he shoved his feet into the shorts while moving towards the open door.

No sooner had he stepped into the main room than he froze. A hint of ozone tickled his nostrils. Both faint starlight and the silvery gleam of a fat, low moon blazed through translucent curtains. Backlit by the brightness, a deeper shadow, tall with broad shoulders, filled a high-backed armchair.

“Who...” He squinted into the inkiness. His heart slowed as the aroma intensified. “What are...”

“Hello, Aiden.”

There was an odd timbre to the voice, as if it wasn’t entirely of this world. That thought alone made Aiden’s skin crawl. Before he could react, another shadow came into focus, stepping from behind the chair. Long, wavy hair and impressive curves, along with the quiet clicking of heels on the tile floor, proclaimed the alluring silhouette belonged to a woman.

“What would you like to drink?” The seated figure chuckled, and after a quick gesture, the heel clicks and curvaceous shadow moved towards his well-stocked bar. “Don’t mind sharing, do you? I believe you could use a bit of fortifying.”

“Umm, how did you—”

“Ah, all in good time.” The figure’s head rotated, tracking the woman slip behind the counter and reach for a bottle. “Whiskey, dear. Two.” The seated figure turned to him. “Neat, correct?”

“Uh, yes.” Aiden’s fists shook at his sides. “Who are you?”

“Well, let’s start with the simple stuff, shall we?”

“Simple stuff?”

Although he couldn’t make out its features, the figure appeared to smile as it glanced beyond him.

“First, close the door. Not to worry, your delightful lover won’t awaken, but I’d rather not have you feel we threaten her.”

Even as he tried to parse the words, his fingers drifted backward to grasp the doorknob. A slow tug drew the door closed as the figure’s large hand gestured toward another armchair.

“Please, Aiden, have a seat. We mean you no harm. In fact, quite the opposite.”

“No harm?”

“No.” A quiet chortle left the figure. “Frankly, if I did, such would’ve already occurred. Please, sit.”

At the second request, he moved towards the chair. No sooner had he settled into it than clicking heels approached. When he looked up just as the woman stepped into the vivid moonlight, his heart stumbled.

Beauty incarnate. Magnificent curves were wrapped in a white leather shoulderless dress. Above a similar shiny band of glossy snow around her neck, he found regal facial features and glittering eyes of an unusual color he couldn’t place. The faintest glow surrounded a form that was utter perfection. At the ephemeral flicker of wings sprouting from her back, he blinked, and they were gone.

“My Felicity is quite the lovely creature, isn’t she?”

“Um, yes,” Aiden murmured, taking a tumbler from perfect, dainty fingers tipped with glossy white nails.

Just as the woman turned away, the figure flicked a hand, and she halted. One more swift signal and she eased backward, settling a perfect rear onto the armrest of Aiden’s chair. As the creak of tight leather sounded much louder than it should, and body heat battered his side, a truly magical perfume—no, more like a swirl of divine scents—inundated his nose.

“There. Now, you have a hostage.” The figure laughed, then took a sip.

“Hos—”

“Poor humor. My apologies.” A sigh left the stranger. “Your questions first. Who am I? Well, to paraphrase a movie, ‘Aiden, I am your father.’”

“What!”

His pulse skyrocketed, but just as he tensed, a hand slid onto his shoulder, and he glanced up at the most magical smile. No, it hadn’t removed the shock, but he relaxed ... a little, and his gaze swiveled, finding the seated shadow.

“Yes, well, didn’t expect that’d be easy to accept,” the stranger said before taking another sip and clearing his throat. “Lisel had the most beautiful eyes. She won me over with them, you know. No, of course you wouldn’t.”

“My dad was—”

“The man you knew as your father was a good one. Also, a far better match for her, for all kinds of reasons. Not the least of which will soon become quite obvious.”

“How—”

“This part’s complicated.” He sighed. “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve practiced the right words, but they’ve all done that annoying disappearing thing.”

“I’m so confused.”

“How’s the ring?” The figure glanced past him at the sailboat painting.

“Excuse me?”

“Is it quiet?”

For the first time since spotting the pair, he sought the etched band, and it was indeed silent, sitting heavy and dark and cold. In the wall safe behind the picture, it hunkered within a solid box, waiting, watching, wondering.

“Yes.”

“Ah, good. Listen to it, Aiden. Watch it as I speak.”

“Um, I’m still—”

“Think back. At your mother’s funeral in January. A tall man. Gorgeous woman on his arm.”

Again, he sensed rather than saw the smile directed at the figure continuing to send pulses of heat to him from the armrest. As memories sharpened of the other pain the year had tossed onto the doorstep of his heart, he gasped.