and she smelled like pure bliss.

Dane knew he had to be careful around her. Viv was right. The girl had crafty written all over her.

Along with luscious. They understood each other well enough. Things were looking up.

“Is one of those for me?” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and leaned there, looking him over.

Dane didn’t have to breathe to know she was interested. He could see it in the widening of her eyes and the tilt of her hips. She was fearless, unmoved by his appearance, and it was refreshing.

“Sure. Got something for me in return?” Dane grinned, letting his gaze wander over her body.

“See anything you like?” Kristan shifted to pose with one hand on her hip, tossing back her long curls.

“Oh, everything.” Dane opened a beer and took a drink. “What can I have?” He already knew the

answer to that—he’d had most of it already—but it was fun to ask. She smelled so good that it was hard to

stay leaning against the fridge looking at her.

44

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Tatterdemalion

“Oh, everything.” She laughed at him. “But you bring the beer.” With that, she headed back up the

stairs.

Dane followed, purring at the sight of her bare legs and the pale curves of her ass. He could already

tell he didn’t need to worry about this one—no concerns, no consequences. He loved it when things were

simple. He needed simple right now, just for a few hours.

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45

Chapter Four

When Lindsay woke, he was alone and it was morning. He wanted to be sad because Dane wasn’t

there, but his head was hurting so little that he could hardly complain. He was warm, covered in heaps of

blankets, and the fire was still burning in the hearth. When Lindsay pressed his cheek to his pillow, he

could smell Dane there, and a long, glossy black hair scrolled across the white cotton like a signature

scrawled on fine paper.

No, Lindsay had nothing to complain about except, perhaps, that he had failed yesterday. He tried to

put it out of his head, with some success. Dane had taken such tender care of him last night, it made

Lindsay feel as though his failure wasn’t the end of the world. Lindsay sat up slowly and his head throbbed.

No one took care of him like that.

There was a silver tray by his bed, with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on it. Lindsay imagined

that, among people who were generally kind and did things like that, throwing someone out for being

broken wasn’t going to be an option. He hoped. He dressed to go downstairs, ready to do something with

his day. Surely he could still do small things. He’d try, at least. If he couldn’t be useful, he would try to be social instead.

The living room in Cyrus’s house was far more comfortable than the one in Lindsay’s parents’ home.

Like the rest of the house, it was actually used for living in, rather than for display. Someone had lit a fire earlier in the morning, so the room was warm and the chair closest to the fireplace was even warmer. It was Dane’s chair, the one he’d been sitting in before they’d gone out together so Lindsay could learn to use his magic. Before Lindsay had failed at learning.

The New York Times was on the coffee table. It had been so long since Lindsay had read it. He picked it up and, after a moment’s hesitation, climbed into Dane’s big chair, feeling like Goldilocks. Dane’s chair was definitely too big, but that made it just right. It even smelled like Dane, warm and musky and safe.

Lindsay subway-folded the paper, curled up and started to read.

He was halfway through the first section when a woman he’d never seen before came down the stairs

and into the room, her heels clattering on the hardwood before the carpet silenced them. She was a

beautiful redhead, if one were drawn to voluptuous women, dressed in a lilac robe that was barely done up

over her heavy breasts. Her wild red curls were in luxurious disarray, tumbling everywhere, and there were

bruises visible on the pale curve of her neck and on the inner swell of one breast.

Tatterdemalion

She stopped when she saw him, one hand on her hip, looking like something out of an old painting,

back when women’s curves had still been considered art.

“You must be Lindsay.” Her voice seemed sweet, but there was something in her that put Lindsay on

edge.

“Yes,” Lindsay said warily. He thought he’d heard her voice before, drifting through the house on the

curious air.

Her expression shifted to something that would have been maternal if she hadn’t been standing there

nearly naked, dressed to seduce. “I’m Kristan. I heard you had a bad day yesterday. I’m glad to see you

feeling better.” She headed toward the kitchen, tugging her robe closed over her breasts almost absently.

“Did anyone make coffee?”

Lindsay wasn’t sure how he felt about other people knowing he’d failed yesterday. He caught her

question belatedly and shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t get that far.” He returned his attention to the paper so he wouldn’t have to deal with the twisting in his chest while she was in the room. He couldn’t help glancing over at the top of it to make sure she was really leaving.

Kristan stopped in the doorway and tossed back her hair. The move made her robe slide aside to

reveal most of one curvy leg. “You’re not waiting for Dane, are you?” Her face was a study in concern.

“I’d hate to think he was being rude enough to leave you sitting here on my account. He can be such a

beast.” Her voice was light, softening her words.

Lindsay stared at her. Dane was sleeping with Kristan? He shifted in the chair, suddenly

uncomfortable. “No,” he said quietly. “I’m not waiting for him.”

After the way Dane had curled up in bed with him, warm and solid and safe, Lindsay’s mind had

offered up dozens of fantasies. Fantasies that had Dane rolling Lindsay onto his back and stripping him

down, opening him up and pushing into him. Fantasies that had Lindsay slipping down the bed to lick and

suck at Dane’s cock. He knew from the musky way Dane smelled that Dane would taste good—so

deliciously, perfectly good—sliding over his tongue.

In the face of Kristan’s conquest, Lindsay pushed his fantasies aside, shoved them into the back of his

mind. It wasn’t as though he’d really expected to act on any of them after all. Right?

“Good.” She gave him a warm smile. The way she leaned against the doorframe could have been

taken out of an old movie. “I’d feel terrible if I got in the way. It’s sweet how he looks after you. He

grumbles about it, but you know how he is. Did you want some coffee while I’m getting mine?”

“No, thank you.” It was instinct to be polite, even now, when he was feeling crushed and uncertain.

“I’m not thirsty.”

“All right. I’m sure Dane will be down soon. Men.” Kristan rolled her eyes at Lindsay as she pushed

away from the doorframe. “You look like a nice boy. I bet you wouldn’t keep falling asleep on a girl. Time

and again.” She made a discontented noise as she disappeared into the kitchen.

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47

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

Time and again. More than just this morning, maybe. Lindsay had thought Dane…he…well,

obviously he’d been wrong. What did he know? He ducked his head, hair falling around his face as he

forced himself to focus on the newspaper. Dane could kick him out of the damn chair if he didn’t want

Lindsay to be there.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Cyrus turned away from the window as Dane shambled in. His