In bed in her bedroom, Jamison brushed Naomi’s hair from her face and kissed her. “If Coyote hadn’t taken you away, the skinwalker would have killed you. He was trying to weaken me by killing my mate. And he’d have been right. Without you, I’d have wanted to die.”
“So you let him corner you in your studio?” Naomi said angrily. “Good plan.”
“I knew if I could lure him to the studio, I’d have the means to kill him. They don’t like fire, remember?” Jamison grinned. “Who says art isn’t useful?”
“But you might have died too. You had no way of knowing whether you could get out.” Jamison kissed the corner of her mouth. “If I hadn’t killed him, he’d have come after you. I’d do anything to keep that from happening.”
Naomi rose on her elbows. “Don’t die for me, Jamison. I need you alive.”
“You got along all right the two years I was gone.”
“No, I didn’t.” She pulled back the sheets and slid on top of him, thighs straddling his. “I told you I did, but it was bullshit. A part of me was missing, like there was a hole in my life. I need you, and not because you’re handy repairing my roof or making pretty sculptures.” Jamison’s grin was wicked. “Is it because you need a man between your legs? Please say yes.”
“Only partly.” Her blood warmed, but she wasn’t finished yelling at him yet. “I need to see you every day. I need to hear your beautiful voice. I love how you love Julie and how you made her believe in you. I love you, not just how you make love. Although you’re good in that department too.” She moved her hips, feeling the hard ridge of his erection. He was so solid under her, so male.
“Good,” Jamison said in his dark voice. “Because you’re a beautiful woman, you’re sitting naked on top of me, and your br**sts are tight and right where I can touch them.” He traced a swollen bud with his thumb.
“So now it’s time for seduction?” she asked.
“I hope so.” His hand drifted up her back, protective, supportive. “You’re going to marry me, aren’t you? Even if the Changer bond didn’t work, we can bind in the human way.” Naomi’s heart squeezed both in joy and regret. Two days before, she’d never heard of the Changer bond, but now she wished they’d have been able to complete it. It meant so much to Jamison.
“I’ll marry you,” she said. Now, tomorrow, whenever you want.
Jamison pulled her down to hold her tight. “Thank you. I’ll try to make it a hell of a lot better than your first marriage.”
Naomi laughed. “You won’t have to work hard for that.”
“But I am going to work at it. Because you’ve done so much for me.” He stroked her hair. “I love that you take what life throws at you and face it head-on. I love that you took in a stuck-up Navajo storyteller and made him your love slave.”
“You aren’t stuck up.” She marveled at how he could think that. “You have time for everyone.”
“Because you taught me. I thought I was so smart, coming down here to teach white people what life was all about. You and Julie blew away my prejudices with one cup of coffee.” His grin widened. “I noticed you didn’t argue about the love-slave part.”
“I don’t mind having a love slave. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to cup your br**sts in my hands.” He did so, thumbs stroking her areolas. “Then I’m going to lift you a little bit.” He slid his hand under her thighs, coaxing her to rise. “Then I’m going to enter you. And I don’t feel like being gentle.”
In spite of his words, his touch was tenderness itself as he lowered her onto him.
His next thrust was not so calm. Jamison tightened his grip on her hips and pulled her onto him, stabbing deep into her.
“I love it,” she whispered, her head dropping back. “Jamison, I don’t care that the bonding ceremony didn’t work. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Jamison said, then his rumbling voice drifted into groans, and he made love to her as though he’d never let her go.
Outside, something stirred under the remains of the smoldering copper roof. A blackened hand pushed away a sheet of hot roofing, and a monster crawled out. He was a burned husk, hair gone, eyes blind, but he moved with determination. Kill.
He sensed something sitting in wait for him, a white presence, though he couldn’t see it. He stopped.
Coyote, in his animal form, put one paw onto the remains of the skinwalker and pulled back in distaste.
“Why don’t you just die?” he growled.
“I am a skinwalker,” the thing rasped. “More powerful than any Changer. I will kill you.”
“Bad luck for you,” Coyote said. “I’m not a Changer.”
He blew his breath onto the skinwalker. The half-dead beast screamed once, then shuddered, mewled, and dissolved into dust.
“Done,” Coyote said in a deep voice.
He looked up at the house. Even though the windows were closed, Coyote’s superior hearing picked up the excited sounds of sex. He licked his lips. He could climb up there and watch them. That might be fun.
He laughed, imagining the look on Naomi’s face if he did.
Coyote threw back his head and gave the starlit sky one determined howl. Then he turned and loped through the deserted parking lot of Hansen’s, heading down the road toward the Crossroads Bar.
The depot was deserted and dark when Naomi parked the truck in front of it just before dawn. The celebration was long over, the lights extinguished, the depot locked.
Coyote’s message had told them to meet him there. He’d left the scrawled note on top of the quilt under which Jamison and Naomi had slept. Which meant he’d crept in there while they’d been naked and entwined. The shit.
Naomi and Jamison climbed to the deserted platform behind the depot. It was freezing, and their breath hung heavily in the starlit air.
The night held no terror for Naomi now. The skinwalker was dead, and Jamison was alive, and they would marry after the Christmas celebrations. Coyote helping her save Jamison was the best Christmas gift anyone could have given her.
That didn’t mean it wasn’t damn cold out there. “He’d better show up soon,” Naomi muttered. “And I still don’t understand why he sent you down to those awful people in Mexico.” Jamison slid his arm around her. “I think he did because there was no one closer to teach me. Whatever else the Changer pack did, they taught me how to control my ability and use it well. If I hadn’t learned that, I probably would have gone insane, like Alex Clay. I never could have returned to you.”