She glanced down at the prone witch. “He was supposed to pick me up, get us to shelter, and then show me the three remaining mines on the island. The orange one right there is obviously defunct.” A fox yipped in the distance, and she slid her hands into the pockets. Then she frowned. “By the way, a hang glider?”
He eyed the oncoming storm. “I own this abandoned mine as well as the functioning coal mine up beyond the bluff. My employees hang glide for fun, and when I saw you through binoculars, it was definitely the fastest way of getting down here.”
She eyed the far peaks. “How did you get up there?”
“Plane, helicopter, and parachute,” he said easily. From the island, snowmobiling was the only way to get to the coal mine, and that was fine with him. “About twenty years ago, I had a hangar built on the western end of the island. We need to get there and to the helicopter to get off this damn island.” A gust of wind blew in, and she stumbled toward him. Lightning zigged across the sky. He crossed to the downed witch and searched his pockets, getting the snowmobile key. Fire crackled along his arms. “I’ll wake this guy up and ask who offered him money to betray you.”
She coughed. “No need. I already know.”
Daire glanced over his shoulder. “Who?”
Her lips pressed tightly together. Her very blue lips.
He sighed and moved toward the vehicle. “We need shelter until the storm passes.” At which point, she’d finally tell him everything. “Give me the name, Cee Cee. I’m not going to ask why right now, but I want the name.” Getting information from the woman was as difficult as getting money from his cousin, Simone. Women.
She glanced down at the barely breathing witch on the ground. Her shoulders moved forward just an inch. “Ivan Bychkov.”
Daire jerked his head. Bychkov, the damn demon, owned half of the mines in Russia, including a couple that had formerly mined planekite. So he also owned the other two mines on Fryser. Interesting. Daire had traced the ownership through several dummy corporations that hadn’t led back to Bychkov. “The plot thickens,” Daire muttered. For now, he had to get the woman out of the storm. He sat on the snowmobile, his butt instantly freezing, and held out a hand. “We’ve been here before.” It wasn’t a motorcycle, but close enough.
She faltered and then accepted his hand. The wind whipped her hair around, and her beautiful eyes teared.
He stopped her before she could straddle the machine. One more question needed to be answered before he could move on and make a plan. “Was any of it real?” he asked.
“Any of what?”
The looks, the kiss, the fucking need. “Us.”
She blinked snow from her eyes, her gaze down. “No.”
He studied her, noting the vibrations in the air. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She gasped, her gaze meeting his. “I most certainly am not.”
Was she protesting his claim that she was a liar or a terrible liar? “Aye, you are.” He leaned in, not missing her quick intake of breath. “Admit it was real, or I’ll prove it.” Damn, he really wanted to prove her wrong.
Even bruised, her chin was stubborn. She leaned toward him, bringing the scent of female and hyacinth. “There’s nothing to prove. I worked you, Enforcer. Deal with it.”
He moved then, clamping his hands on her waist, and plunking her down, facing him. The handlebars bracketed her, as did his arms.
She sucked in air and tried to lean back and away. The move scooted her core closer to his, and he shoved against her, his dick jumping at the vee in her legs. Her eyes widened. Desire all but rolled off her. Both hands pressed against his chest with impressive strength.
“Admit it, Cee Cee.”
“No.” She didn’t hide her gaze, but her fingers curled into his chest. Anger and denial danced in her eyes, but beneath them, there was something more. Curiosity? She held her breath, not moving.