Grayson's Vow

by Mia Sheridan

  "Hi," she said, eyeing me suspiciously.

  I walked into her room without being invited. "I took the liberty of ordering dinner for us. I know you like Charlotte's beef stroganoff. I'm sure the chef here isn't nearly as good as Charlotte, but . . ." I shrugged. Kira looked slightly unsure, but then let out a breath, obviously acquiescing.

  "That sounds good. Thank you. Although I might not be the best company."

  She turned and walked back toward the balcony where she stood looking out over the city. I joined her, leaning my forearms on the metal rail and looking over at her. She looked away, tilting her chin down as if attempting to hide her face from me.

  "Hey," I said gently, standing up straight and turning toward her. I used my fingers to nudge her chin toward me. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She sucked in a sharp breath, a tiny sob coming up her throat. A bolt of protectiveness speared through me and I pulled her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. "Shh," I said, "it's okay." My throat felt tight as her body tensed in my arms, like she didn't know how to be held. God, growing up with no mother and a father like that, she probably didn't. I had only slightly more to draw upon, but enough to take the lead.

  "Kira," I whispered, "relax. Let me hold you, sweetheart." She struggled weakly for a brief moment, but when I tightened my arms around her, she sagged into me and gave way to her tears.

  Kira sobbed in my arms, her face buried in my chest for a long while. My gut tensed with pain as I bore witness to her misery. Finally, her sobs began to abate, and she raised her face to me. The tenderness that pulsed in my chest was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It vaguely concerned me, but I pushed my feelings aside and brushed my thumb across Kira's soft cheek, wiping away the wetness of her tears. She blinked, looking slightly confused, but relieved as well. I smoothed her hair back from her face. "It's okay," I said, "I'm here."

  "Said The Dragon to the witch," she said softly, a small twinkle in her still-teary eyes. I laughed.

  "There's my girl." She smiled softly and pulled away. My arms suddenly felt very empty. Kira sagged down onto one of the plastic balcony chairs and I sat down in the other one, a small plastic table between us.

  "Will you tell me about it?" She leaned back in her chair, sighing, seeming to know I was asking what had sent her running off to Africa.

  After taking a deep breath, she said, "I met Cooper at a charity event hosted by my father. I was home for the summer from my first year at college. My father had taken Cooper under his wing and was grooming him to win his first judgeship." She bit her lip and looked away for a moment. "Although my father's not in politics anymore, he's very involved in the San Francisco court system." Her eyes darted to me for a quick second and I wondered if she was thinking about my involvement with the San Francisco court system. Thankfully, though, I'd never come in contact with Frank Dallaire. She was quiet for a few moments. "Anyway, Cooper and I started dating and my father was so damned happy about it." She looked out at the horizon, seeming to be lost in memory. "It was the first time in my life I felt like I was pleasing him. It felt . . . well, I felt wanted. It was a heady feeling. Almost addictive," she mused, shaking her head dejectedly.

  "So you never really loved Cooper?" I hated the tiny stab of jealousy at the mention of Kira with another man—even one who was mostly in her past. I shook it off.

  "Oh, I thought I did, I suppose. He was all polish and country-club manners. My father thought we were a brilliant match and we'd perfectly balance each other. Cooper would finally tame me, and I would offer the Dallaire name to his campaign and his future career as a judge."

  "What happened?" I asked, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach.

  "We were engaged around Christmas and I, well, I gave him my virginity." She frowned and looked away for what seemed like a long time. My muscles were tensed and I consciously focused on relaxing. "I only tell you that because it relates to the rest of the story."

  "Okay," I said.

  Kira cleared her throat. "I planned to come home that summer and start wedding planning. Cooper was heavily involved in his first campaign and his team was working out of the St. Regis Hotel." Kira picked at her fingernail for a few seconds before continuing. "I got out of finals early and instead of going straight to the apartment my father kept for me here, I decided to surprise Cooper there." Her frown deepened. "Cooper had always seemed . . . displeased with me in bed. He never said it exactly, but he communicated the message clearly enough. I thought maybe if I surprised him, wore something . . . you get the idea." A blush rose in her cheeks. "Anyway, I went to his room and a member of his campaign opened the door, obviously expecting room service. He tried to stop me from going back to the bedroom, but I wouldn't let him and I walked in on Cooper with . . . women."

  "Women? Plural?"

  Kira nodded, her expression pained. "There was one under him and one behind him using some sort of . . ." She shook her head and closed her eyes, obviously trying to shake the image from her mind. "God . . ." She put her face in her hands for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

  "I don't need a full description. I get the gist," I said, my voice sounding tight.

  She nodded, looking relieved. "There were lines of what looked like cocaine on the coffee table, half-empty liquor bottles."

  "Jesus," I said, moving my hand through my hair, picturing Cooper, the golden boy in his tennis whites this afternoon.

  "Cooper . . . disengaged when he finally noticed me, but he was drunk or drugged or both. I don't know. He started off apologizing, but it disintegrated into him screaming at me about how he didn’t want a whore for a wife. He had actual whores for that." I tried to leave, but he pulled me and I fought him. We tumbled to the ground and he hit me, but I got away. Only as I turned to leave, he caught my ankle and I fell on the glass coffee table, breaking two of my ribs, banging up my face even more, and slicing up my arm. It had happened so fast, but I was a mess. There was blood everywhere. Members of Cooper's campaign team who had been in the other room came running. They got me out of there and called a doctor when we arrived at my father's home."

  "Kira," I said, my voice raw, my gut churning. I now fully understood why she'd been so insecure about sex. It wasn't just about her father and his dismissal of Rosa Maria. It was even more personal—she’d basically been told her passion in bed was somehow inappropriate and disgusting. And she'd believed it. And who could blame her? It'd been her first experience. She'd only ever been with one man.

  Kira looked off into the distance again. "When my father got home and learned what happened," her face screwed up as if she was going to cry again, but she regrouped with a deep breath, "he told me I'd ruined everything. And then he went into recovery mode: contacting the hotel staff, putting out the story that I'd gotten into trouble with drugs and went wild in case anyone else had seen me leaving the room, or in case other staff talked about the cleanup. Of course, he wouldn't hear of me calling the engagement off, but I was very final about that."

  "He threw you under the bus."

  She nodded. "Yes. Cooper's campaign and status was more important than his own daughter. He suggested a trip to Europe to make it look as if I was in a recovery program and then upon my return, we could turn the story in our favor—making me look like a success. Can you see the headlines now? 'Heiress turns to drugs, ruins life, but thanks to the love and devotion of selfless fiancé, turns life around.' What a perfect love story. Of course, Cooper would look even more like a hero. His current campaign, and all future campaigns, would be even more successful with a story like that attached to him. And me, I'd be the fall girl, but all for a good cause."

  "Jesus." I stared in disbelief.

  She sighed. "Well, as you can imagine, I wasn't going to go along with my father's plan to send me to Europe on a shopping expedition, but I did need to go away. Even returning to college here in California seemed too close. I wanted an ocean between us—very literally. I was devastated and needed to heal both phys
ically and emotionally. I needed time to come up with a life plan. I remembered Khotso's invitation to help with his hospital—an invitation I hadn't been able to accept originally—and cut myself off from my father and Cooper. I took an extra day to have a full STD checkup, and then flew to Africa using the very last of the money I had in my bank account." She blushed slightly after the remark about a checkup, and then her expression turned thoughtful. "When I got there, I felt so empty, so grief-stricken. But see," her eyes suddenly brightened, and I sucked in a breath to see her shining light again, "I worked with these women who had lost so much—they were rejected by their villages and their families because of the stigma of something they had no control over. Many of them had lost their babies. They were sick and traumatized. They had lost so much more than me. And I thought to myself, if I'm going to encourage them to be strong, to find power beyond their own circumstances, then I have to be able to do the same for myself. People suffer all over the world, every day. But people triumph all over the world every day, too. And I thought if these women are going to trust me to help them heal and triumph, I have to be able to rise above, as well. And I did."

  "You make it sound easy." My voice held a scratchy note. How was she so strong?

  She shook her head. "It's not easy. It takes work, and faith, and a whole heart full of hope. It takes letting the pain in, too. Because the problem is, you can't shut off one emotion without shutting off all your emotions. You have to feel the pain if you're going to feel the joy. It's just the way it works. So no, it's not easy, but it's possible. And now, all I want is for my father to leave me in peace, to allow me to figure out on my own what I'm going to do with the rest of my life."

  I understood now. I understood why she'd been willing to go to drastic measures to gain some freedom. I understood why she'd been willing to marry a stranger rather than ask her father for a single dime of his money—money that surely had any number of soul-stripping strings attached. She had chosen to split the money fifty-fifty, as if it was the only bargaining tool she felt she was worth. She had chosen me, and I suddenly felt gratitude that far outweighed the financial gain.

  "And what have you come up with so far?" I asked. What are your dreams, sweet Kira?

  "I might go back to college. I might become a pirate and sail the seven seas. The point is I have choices. Because of my gram, and because of you, I can do anything." Our gazes locked and I had the very brief, but sharp urge to fall to my knees and swear my everlasting servitude to her. Relax, Gray.

  "You'd make a really hot pirate," I finally said.

  She laughed right as a loud knock sounded at the front door and we both startled slightly. "Room service," I said, smiling.

  There was no table in the suite, so I set up the food on the coffee table in the spacious living room, and we both sat down to eat. The mood seemed to have lightened despite the very heavy topics we'd discussed, and despite the fact that Kira had just shared her very personal, painful story. Maybe that's what she'd needed, though. I imagined she hadn't spoken of it much, if at all, given she’d left immediately after it happened, and had only returned recently.

  "You know," I said through a bite of stroganoff that wasn't nearly as good as Charlotte's, "I owe you an apology. I misjudged you from the moment I met you. I had you completely wrong."

  Kira shrugged. "I'm used to it. And I did my own share of misjudging, dragon." She winked and I grinned.

  "Kira," I said after a minute, "I know we agreed on two months, but you can stay longer if you'd like. I mean if it will help give you time to figure out what your next step is."

  She looked at me sideways. "You may come to regret that offer."

  I suppressed a smile at her sarcasm. "Probably. You relentlessly try my patience. But, even so, I mean it."

  She turned toward me and grinned, that witchy little dimple appearing, and the lust that shot through my body was sharp and sudden.

  "I appreciate it. But I think it will be good for me to set up a place of my own."

  I didn't want to acknowledge the feeling of disappointment I felt at her words. "Will you stay in Napa?" Please. Please stay.

  She looked pensive. "I don't know. If we're trying to elevate your social standing in Napa, I'm not sure moving to my own place there makes sense. But I'll stay in California for a little while at least. Until we file for divorce."

  I nodded and an awkward silence ensued. She was thinking of my circumstances in all this? Why did she care at all? I wasn't sure what I felt in that moment and was even less sure I wanted to analyze it.

  We finished dinner and I placed the dishes outside the door for pickup. When I came back into the suite, I found Kira back in her room standing at the sliding glass door of the balcony, looking out. I watched her for a few seconds, taking in her relaxed posture, the long waves of her hair falling down her back. Tenderness filled my chest. She was so strong and so beautiful. I walked to stand behind her, moved her hair over one shoulder, and leaned in and kissed the back of her neck. She shivered, but didn't pull away.

  "Kira," I murmured, inhaling her sweet fragrance. I was unsure whether I should be touching her, whether I should be attempting to move our relationship in this direction. Maybe I needed to be protecting her from myself. But for the life of me, I couldn't make myself stop. And when I kissed her neck again and she let out a soft moan, I came undone completely.

  I turned her in my arms and brought my hands up to hold her face, being careful not to put pressure on the bruise on her cheek where her father had hit her. I leaned in to kiss her sweet mouth, a deep moan coming up my throat as I threaded my fingers into the silky waves of her hair, tilting her head so I could plunge my tongue deeper. I wanted to devour her, become part of her fire, her life force.

  I walked backward, pulling her with me gently until the backs of my legs hit the bed. Then I turned her so she fell backward and I followed her down. I felt almost frantic with lust and forced myself to slow down, taking a long shuddering breath.

  Kira stared up at me with half-lidded eyes. God, she was beautiful. "I want you," I said, my voice sounding raw to my own ears.

  She blinked, her expression filling with uncertainty. She wanted me, too, but she wasn't ready. I swore to myself, a sudden flash of how she'd looked earlier in my arms, her eyes reddened by tears, her lip trembling. I could convince her to sleep with me tonight, I was sure, but that didn't feel right anymore. Not now that I knew her story. When she came to my bed, she had to come willingly. But I could still do something for her. I leaned in and kissed her again. "Let me give you pleasure, Kira. Let me show you how beautiful you are when I make you come." She still looked uncertain, but she didn't tell me to stop, so I took that as a yes and leaned in to kiss her neck. She tipped her head back and let out a small sigh as I licked and nipped at the soft, tender skin of her throat. The taste of her was new and familiar all at once, and I felt my heart beating rapidly in my chest. "You are bewitching. Perfect," I whispered in her ear, rising above her to remove her shirt. She lifted her arms over her head, the look in her eyes less wary than it had been, heat burning away her previous reservation.

  I unsnapped her bra and took a moment to gaze down at her naked breasts. My cock pulsed against the restrictive zipper of my jeans, and I moved my hand to her rose-colored nipple. I scraped it gently with the nail of my thumb and she jerked her hips off the bed, moaning. "Gray," she rasped. At the sound of my name on her lips, frantic lust spiked through my body again and I gritted my teeth. I licked my thumb and wet her nipple, stimulating the hard peak until she was letting out sweet little pants. Then I leaned down and sucked the other one into my mouth, swirling my tongue around, biting gently and then laving again. Her hips pressed upward into my swollen erection, and we both moaned.

  Kira's fingers threaded into my hair as I kissed down her stomach. I stood to remove her jeans and our eyes tangled, hers bright and luminescent with passion, fluttering closed after a moment. "Beautiful," I murmured. "So beautiful." My fiery
little witch was squirming and moaning and so beautifully vibrant with passion. How would any man alive not find this stunningly erotic? How would any man alive not want to experience this response from the woman he was making love to? From the woman who belonged to him? Looking at her this way felt like inhaling a bright ray of sunlight.

  Throwing her jeans and underwear aside, I went down on my knees on the floor in front of her and gently dragged her closer to me so my face was directly between her legs. She was bare, so shiny and slick with arousal. I almost growled at the scent of her, a fierce feeling of primal need roaring through my veins. I was practically shaking with desire for the beautiful little witch. "Gray," her voice broke on my name.

  She turned her head to the side, muffling a moan into the thick pillow next to her head.

  "No, Kira, let me hear you," I begged.

  She looked at me, hazy confusion in her eyes, but she pushed the pillow away.

  Leaning in, I licked her, swirling my tongue around her swollen clitoris, the taste of her bursting across my tongue and impossibly, making me even harder. I was going to orgasm just from pleasuring her. I had never felt this desperate. She keened softly, pressing herself into my face. I sucked and licked and tasted her slick flesh for long moments, as she moaned and panted, her sounds of pleasure making me feel wild. Finally I pressed two fingers into her wet entrance and she let out a small scream, her thighs quivering, as her body shook and contracted around my fingers. After she'd stilled, I raised my face and kissed back up her stomach. Kira let out a contented sigh, taking my face in her hands as I pressed my lips to hers so she could taste her own passion on my mouth and tongue. We kissed slowly for long moments, my erection still throbbing painfully with unspent lust for the beautiful woman in my arms. Giving her one final kiss, I rolled to the side and pulled her naked body into my arms, bringing the blankets up over her, and smoothing my hand down her hair. "You are beautiful," I repeated, feeling something in my chest that felt startlingly like fear. Why did my feelings for her scare me?