CHAPTER ELEVEN

NATALIE

This is the most insane conversation of my life and I’m doing my best not to hyperventilate. Ambrose is a freaking warlock. Visions of wizards and witches are running through my mind and yeah, I’m kinda feeling in over my head here.

One question keeps charging to the front of my brain, though.

“If you’re a warlock, what do you want with me?”

His entire body stiffens, his silver eyes flaring wide, and I cringe. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” I remind him.

It’s as if all the energy abruptly drains out of him, leaving him looking tired and far older than the twenty-five I believed him to be. I suppose if he wasn’t joking about being a warlock he wasn’t kidding about being over four hundred years old, either.

“You are my soul mate, Natalie. I’ve been waiting for you my entire life. I love you.”

His words are like a rock hurled into a calm pond. Even after the surface ripples subside, the waters below still churn with the force of the rock’s impact.

This man has waited his entire life for me. Not just any man, but a powerful and fairly old warlock.

“So that’s how you knew my name,” I say, trying to make sense of everything. “And your eyes, those aren’t contacts, are they?”

“No, this is the natural color of my eyes. And yes, when I first touched you, I immediately knew your name and everything about you.”

“Then what was the point of the date? And if you already knew everything about me then why did you ask me questions about myself, my job, and my family? Why bother doing any of that?”

“Because it was important to you,” he says quietly, his somber gaze upon me.

It hits me. How much he’d wanted to make things “normal” for me, taking me out on a date, wooing me the way a regular man would, all when he was a powerful warlock who wasn’t used to doing any of that.

And he loves me.

I wanted to find a man and get into a relationship. Talk about starting out with a bang.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to walk over to Ambrose. “What exactly do you want and expect out of this?”

He appears puzzled as his gaze moves over me. “What I want is you.”

Suddenly I’m in his arms, though I didn’t take a single step. The smell of cloves and nutmeg swirl around me as my eyes lock with his silver ones. “I want to make love to you again,” he whispers in a low and hungry voice. “To bury myself deep within you so you don’t know where you end, and I begin. To claim you as mine for all of time.”

Oh my. Wow, that sounds hot.

And permanent. Especially the claiming part.

“And after?”

He smiles. “After? We enjoy our lives together. We can stay here or travel.” His smile dims slightly. “I suppose I should help my sisters with the shop a bit before we go anywhere, though.”

“Ambrose, I have a job I love and a house I just bought,” I remind him.

He waves his hand airily. “You don’t need either of them. I can provide everything you need and more.”

Huffing, I push at his arms, gaining myself a few inches of space, and glare at him. “Yes, I do need them. And more importantly, I want them. I worked too damn hard to give them up.”

His arms fall away from me as he staggers back a few steps, his shoulders slumping as his head bows. Agony, so pure and full of pain, fills his face, and it’s as if a burning hot lance has been thrust through my middle. I feel his pain as clearly as if it were my own, making me wonder if this is part of the soul mate connection.

Ambrose snaps upright. A mask descends upon his features, taking the anguish away as if it had never been there.

The burning in my middle leaves and I let out a breath of relief.

That relief is short-lived as his silver eyes blaze. “You’re mine.”

Anger fills me at his tone. “The hell I am! I’m my own person, not something you can own or control. You can’t keep me here.”

Suddenly, I’m unable to move my legs or arms.

Oh, right. Warlock. Guess he can keep me here.

Unable to move anything but my head, I glare at him. “Is this what you want?” I ask. “To have my body, but not the rest of me? I’ll hate you forever if you do this, Ambrose.”

Like a puppet whose strings have been cut, his body sags in on itself. Wetness coats his eyes, and I’m released as abruptly as I was frozen.

His hand shakes as he reaches for me, his fingers gentle as they skim over my cheek. “I love you,” he whispers.

The words pierce my heart and I long to say them back to him. Something in me rebels. I’m not a warlock or a witch. I’m just a regular woman with not a bit of magic in me. As much as I feel something for him, I’m not ready to embrace the whole idea of soul mates and everything it entails.

I cover his hand with my own. “I sorry,” I say slowly. “But I don’t love you.”

Without a word, he sinks to his knees, his head bowing in defeat.

Kneeling down, I gently place my hand on his shoulder. “But maybe someday I will.”

Hopeful silver eyes meet mine.

“Let’s get to know each other and see what happens, okay?”

Beautifully long and strong fingers tenderly grasp my face. When his lips cover mine, I kiss him back, pouring all my budding feelings into the kiss.