Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,142
if you don’t know him, but he’s loyal, brilliant and you can’t ask for a better brother in arms. Trap has Asperger syndrome and he can’t always read everyone’s expressions.”
“I’ll be fine with your friends, Rubin,” Jonquille assured. “You have to remember, I haven’t been around people at all in years. I worked in the laboratories at night when no one was around. I went to the conferences, but sat up in the balconies where no one was. I’m a loner. I understand the principle.”
“I don’t want you to be a loner forever, Jonquille. You’ll have me, and you’re comfortable with Diego.”
“He’s low energy until he’s really angry.” She sent Rubin a small smile. “Neither one of you put off much energy. You don’t seem to have tempers, but then when you do get angry you go all out, super high octane. It’s crazy.”
“Ezekiel says we store it up.”
“Has he ever really seen you angry?”
He was leading her very carefully to the master bedroom. There was little furniture in the house. The kitchen had a table and chairs and cooking items. The master bedroom had a bed and two chairs and the master bath had towels and washcloths with toothbrushes and little else. He’d brought food, and both of them always carried a pack with their personal items in them. He really thought the most essential thing in the entire house was the bed, and quite frankly, he could do without that if necessary. He had Jonquille alone. That was the most necessary of all.
Rubin stopped just outside the bedroom door and swung around to face her. He was suddenly aware of the difference in their sizes. Jonquille was always so confident in herself. He certainly thought of her as his equal. It never occurred to him she might be nervous because of his temper or his size or any of his abilities.
“Did I upset you with my temper? You need to tell me if I did, Jonquille. It’s important for us to always have truth between us.”
Her eyes widened. One hand went to his chest. “No, I’m not in the least upset because you have a bit of a temper. I’m all about lightning, Rubin. Diego and I were kidding around about what happens if I get upset, but maybe not so much. Under the right circumstances, it isn’t a good idea to be around me. I might just slam a few lightning bolts into your favorite car or the house accidentally.”
He couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. “Woman, you’re going to make my life fun. Especially living in close proximity to Trap. His woman can wrap people up in spiderwebs. Mine can toss around lightning. This is going to be a really fun neighborhood.”
“Nonny might object to our strange ways.”
Jonquille might point that out, but she was laughing with him and that was all that mattered. He loved the sound of her laughter, the way it seemed to wash over and into him. Little sparks of light surrounded her, or maybe that was just the way he saw her.
He had his hand on the master bedroom doorknob, but he didn’t want to blindside her. “This is our bedroom, Jonquille. A bank of windows face the river so when you open your eyes, that will be the first thing you see.”
The laughter faded from her eyes. She shook her head and stepped very close to him, her blue eyes very blue, ringed with that brilliant silver, meeting his.
Jonquille looked up at Rubin, her eyes searching his dark ones for a long time. Her stomach seemed as if every butterfly in the world had taken up residency and then taken flight. To her, Rubin was the epitome of what a man should be. Not just his features, the ones she loved so much. She knew every line in his face by heart. The way his laugh lines around his eyes crinkled before he smiled. It was the actual man, the soul of him, she loved. His gentleness. The way he was inside.
She had avoided others most of her life, and it had become a kind of self-preservation as well as a way to keep others safe. It was a way of life for her—until Rubin. Just looking into his eyes she was lost. There was no thought of saving herself. Looking into that scorching intensity, seeing desire smoldering, burning so blatantly for her, made it impossible to resist him.
Jonquille touched his face almost reverently. “Rubin.” She whispered his name.