Whispered Lies

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

When he reached the cabinet in the basement of the administration building, he squeezed through the opening then pulled Gabrielle through.

  Brisk steps heading toward them echoed through the tunnel.

  Carlos gave the huge storage unit one adrenaline-powered shove and the piece flew back against the wall with a thud.

  He snatched her hand and kept her moving before panic turned to shock and she stopped. If he could leave her alone, he’d have hidden her and gone on his own to draw their pursuer away. But she knew the territory and he couldn’t risk letting her out of his sight.

  When they reached the third floor, he towed her into the brightly lit hallway where he could pick up the pace.

  And took a quick look at Gabrielle.

  Her face was smudged with dirt and her hair was askew.

  Eyes bright from excitement, she looked wild and free. When her gaze met his, she grinned.

  Not the careful smile of earlier, but a full-fledged grin.

  Carlos rushed up to the door of their room. The phone inside was ringing. He punched in the code to disengage the lock. Voices and footsteps approached from around the corner at the end of the hall, the sound bouncing against stone walls.

  He whipped the door open, pulled her through, and closed it softly.

  Gabrielle dove for the phone, but the ringer had silenced.

  Carlos rubbed his head. Who had tried to reach them?

  A knock sounded at the door.

  He swung around and pointed at the bedroom, mouthing the word shower and rubbing himself to get the message across quickly.

  A second knock sounded. She nodded and rushed out of the room as he jerked off his dusty jacket and tossed it on the floor.

  Heartened to hear the shower running, Carlos slowed his breathing and opened the door with a hard-faced “What?”

  “Security.” A robust fellow in his midforties stood there. The school name was embroidered on the shirt half of his starched brown uniform. He had a radio hooked to his belt and a stun gun clipped in a holder. “Have you been in Student Building A tonight?”

  “No.”

  “No one from this room was there?” the guard persisted.

  The sound of a cart rolling up to the door was followed by Pierre’s face next to the security personnel. “What’s going on?”

  Carlos caught a too casual note in Pierre’s question. He was acting and not good at it. “Sounds like your security is doing a dorm check.”

  Pierre eyed Carlos curiously, then told the guard, “It’s probably just new students testing limits. Please don’t disturb Mademoiselle Saxe again.”

  The security guard didn’t care for that suggestion, but nodded and left.

  Pierre waved the older man pushing the food cart forward, then turned to Carlos. Once again, Pierre sported a superior look that Carlos would like to rearrange for him. “I called twice to say the food was ready early. Where was Mademoiselle?”

  “Showering. She doesn’t like to be rushed,” Carlos answered as bored as he could sound considering his heartbeat was still clamoring from the run.

  “Where were you?”

  “Right here.”

  “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “First, it’s not my job to take phone messages. Second, I don’t answer her phone at home, so why should I here?” Carlos shoved his gaze over to the cart. “I’ll take that.”

  Pierre frowned. “You don’t want him to serve?”

  “No.” Carlos tugged the cart into the room while he blocked Pierre from moving in behind it. He swung around and stared at the pair. “Anything else?”

  “I’d prefer to confirm that Mademoiselle Saxe finds everything acceptable before I leave.”

  “That’s too bad. I prefer you not see Miss Saxe in a towel, which is her favorite way to eat a meal.” Carlos did all he could to maintain a straight face at Pierre’s shocked expression and the wide-eyed look of his food staff. “We’ll call if we need anything.” He closed the door and let out a sigh of relief as the footsteps receded.

  Too close.

  He retrieved his fake iPod and walked into the bedroom, scanning for bugs. Clean. And…the shower had ended.

  “Gabrielle,” he called out, then stepped toward the bathroom to let her know everything was okay. The door flew open and she rushed out wearing nothing but said towel.

  “They’re gone?” she asked on a hushed breath.

  “Coast is clear.”

  He might have kept his hands off her if she hadn’t burst out laughing and launched herself at him, whispering excitedly, “We did it!”

  Carlos caught her as her arms went around his neck.

  And the towel came loose, falling to a puddle at her feet.

  Oh, man, he wanted to look, to feel, to kiss every spot.

  She’s off-limits.

  Gabrielle kissed him and he let her for about thirty seconds while what little control he had just sifted through his fingers faster than fine sand. Then he took over, kissing soft lips that tore apart every reason his mind dug up to stop.

  A shaft of light from where she’d left the bathroom door ajar speared into the dark room.

  Gabrielle tasted like toothpaste and happiness.

  And every touch of her fingers said she wanted much more from him than a kiss to celebrate their daring race.

  She cupped his face, kissing him back with sweetness that hit him low in the gut. He claimed her mouth over and over. He’d been in a semi-aroused state for so long her intentional rub against the front of his jeans stroked him past the point a cold shower would be of any benefit.

  The growl that rumbled should have warned her.

  His tongue joined hers in an erotic glide.

  The need to have her floored him. She was unlike any other woman, passionate about everything. He wanted to feel that passion unleashed. He scooped her up and she curled toward him. Bashful? Two steps and he dropped her on the bed, ready to play.

  She whipped the covers up and over her body, her face turned toward the mattress.

  The abrupt change in her knocked his senses back into working order again. Why was she hiding herself?

  The moment shifted so quickly from let’s-get-naked to don’t-look-at-me his brain had a chance to catch up with his body. He couldn’t do this, and even if he did, not with the light on where she could see the Anguis tattoo on his chest. Carlos took a reflexive step back.

  The movement drew her attention to him. “Please. Don’t.”

  Anguish needled through her voice and tore at his heart. What was going on? He slowly moved back to the bed and knelt on the edge.

  When she sat up, disillusionment filled her eyes.

  Carlos didn’t want to be the reason for the wounded look but knew he had to be, and that was killing him.

  He pressed his palm along her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  Gabrielle curled a hand around his wrist, but didn’t say a thing at first, just nibbled on her lip, worried about something. She glanced away, then back at him. “I thought maybe, I mean I know I’m not…not like the women you probably have all the time, not a perfect shape, or sexy, but I just…”

  She thought he wasn’t interested. That he was rejecting her?

  His heart ripped at the possibility he’d caused this remarkable woman to doubt herself or her attraction.

  If she reached down to cup him, she’d know the truth, but if she touched him now, backing away from her would be a test he doubted he could pass.

  She held his gaze silently, waiting to see what he’d do.

  Watching the dejection in her face peeled his resolve one layer at a time. Most women played games, never willing to expose what they honestly thought.

  Gabrielle had just laid her soul bare for him.

  “I know you don’t-,” she mumbled, her gaze shifting away, embarrassed.

  He turned her face to him with one finger. “I don’t know where you got the idea you aren’t exceptional, because you are.”

  “Sure.” She di
smissed his words with a dainty snort. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying.” He brushed the hair off her face.

  “You don’t think I’m exceptional. You made it clear back at the cabin you weren’t interested in doing…this…with me.”

  He shook his head. “I was trying to let you know I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”

  “You yelled at me to go in the bathroom when I jumped off the bed that morning in the cabin.” Hurt coursed through her voice and face.

  Carlos played with her hair, then smoothed his hand over her cheek, hoping he was wrong but needing to know just how much damage he’d done. “And you thought I didn’t like the way you looked half naked, didn’t find you attractive?”

  “Yes.”

  The tiny answer poured salt on the rip in his heart. He trailed a finger along her chin and down her neck then fanned his fingers over the delicate skin along her collarbone. He stopped just short of her breasts.

  She shivered.

  He met her gaze and couldn’t deny her the truth. “I ran you into the bathroom so I could get my pants on without injuring myself. I was so turned on you were killing me.”

  She stared openmouthed at him. “Really?”

  “How can you be so intelligent and dense at the same time?” he asked, smiling, then he lowered his mouth to her.

  But she pulled away. “You don’t have to-”

  He stopped her with his hands on each side of her face. “You’re right. I don’t have to, but I want to kiss you.” What would be the problem in telling her the real truth since no one knew what was going on in this room?

  “In fact, I want you. Period.” He covered her lips, kissing her tenderly, giving her his apology. Slipping a hand around her neck, he cradled her like the fragile treasure she was and slowly slid the silky covering away from her body.

  She stared at him with a trust he didn’t deserve, but intended to honor.

  He eased her down onto her back, where he could savor each kiss he placed along her face, her soft throat…her shoulders.

  If he took his time-and he planned to do just that-the room would be dark before he took off his shirt so he could avoid a discussion about the damn tattoo. He kissed her, slowly, gently, as he explored her skin. His fingers molded around her elegant shoulders, gliding along skin so smooth she could be a living crème puff.

  Gabrielle gasped when he brushed lightly along her abdomen, then lower, where his fingers grazed the curls between her legs. She quivered and his body clenched at the passion simmering beneath him.

  He knew without a doubt she would surprise him since nothing about this woman had been predictable from their first meeting.

  And he wanted that passion, to feel this amazing woman in his arms, screaming her release.

  She was half on and half off the bed. He inched his hands under her sexy bottom and scooped her into his arms, rolling over to the center of the bed.

  When he stopped, she was on top of him.

  Gabrielle lifted her head, staring at him with a question in her eyes.

  Was she having second thoughts about this? About him?

  She was from the bloodline of kings.

  He was from the bloodline of killers.

  “Are you sure you want to do this…with me?” he asked, hating the sick feeling that struck him at the thought she might now change her mind. But he wouldn’t fault her if she backed away.

  “I’m…not sure-,” she mumbled.

  “That you want to do this?” he finished.

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head once. “I know I want to make love with you…if you’re sure?”

  The tight band across his chest relaxed with that nervous admission.

  She still didn’t believe he wanted her?

  Carlos grasped her hand and guided her fingers down to his arousal. He hissed at the contact. An ache surged in his heavy groin.

  “Still wonder?” he teased, his voice husky with wanting her.

  Her beautiful violet-blue eyes widened, then twinkled with happiness. How could something as simple as seeing her happy make his heart jump in joy?

  She massaged her fingers along the front of his jeans, stroking his cock, experimenting with gentle pressure until he clenched his teeth against the sweet torment.

  When he eased her hand away, she smiled shyly. She kissed him with tentative lips, testing, nipping, then moved to his neck. Her timid exploration drove him crazy with every second that passed waiting to feel her.

  He didn’t get involved with women, kept things light.

  He’d probably be damned for all eternity, but he wasn’t backing away.

  Dainty fingers inched along his collarbone to his chest and carefully released one button from his shirt. His breath seized. He should stop her right there, but curiosity held him captive. She had an innocence he hadn’t found in another adult female, an intoxicating freshness in her inexperienced moves.

  But he sensed she wanted, or needed, the control, to feel the power over him. He moved his hands from her waist, letting his arms fall by his side.

  Would he see the bold Gabrielle who had raced through tunnels tonight or the demure woman of sophistication who could be so reserved and proper?

  Her butterfly-like touches moved down his shirt, leaving the other buttons, but pulling the shirt free before she smoothed her hands up his sides and across his chest.

  He sucked in a breath and should have been ready, but when her fingers raced over his jeans to cup him again, a shock of electricity bolted through his core. He clasped her round bottom and rubbed his cock against her inquisitive fingers.

  Hallelujah, the bold Gabrielle had shown up.

  She unzipped his fly, delving her fingers inside, curving around him. Carlos clenched against her hungry hands and fought to remain still for as long as he could, then flipped her over.

  He kissed her, his mouth urging her to not back down now.

  She gripped his hair, drawing them close, her tongue meeting his, daring him to show her more.

  Heat singed the air, stoking the scent of hot bodies in a primal dance. The smell of fresh bath and feminine musk clouded his senses until all he could hear, see, feel, was Gabrielle.

  The room was dark as night now, except for a strip of light slicing past the almost closed bathroom door. He was past worrying about her seeing the Anguis tattoo. Doubted she even knew about it.

  He could just focus on her pleasure.

  His hands roamed over her, seeing every curve and soft shape as a blind sculptor. He eased his fingers between her thighs and gently played until she clenched and shuddered.

  Oh, yes, she would be like no other.

  He fingered the fragile folds, so sweet and delicate.

  Her breathing hitched and she lifted up. Not yet.

  Gabrielle tried to catch her breath. She wanted to pinch herself to be sure this was real. This gorgeous, sexy man wanted her. She held Carlos close, reveling in the feel of his embrace. He kissed her as if she were the only woman on Earth.

  That he did so challenged her to take what he offered. She’d grown up believing she would marry her Prince Charming, but exchanged rings with a snake. Her dreams had been stolen along with her hope for a normal life.

  She’d lived by everyone else’s directives for as long as she could recall. Even her slimy ex-husband forced her to live in hiding. Didn’t she deserve the chance to be intimate with a man who really wanted her? Maybe even cared about her?

  Carlos had convinced her he burned for her.

  He’d called her exceptional. Attractive.

  Her. Naked.

  Gabrielle pushed her hands down, shoving herself up to him. She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the cloth off his arms.

  He lifted up on his elbows, then shed the shirt before he circled his arms around her back and pulled her to him lovingly. She swallowed the lump that jumped into her throat. He framed her face with his hands, paused, then kissed her tenderly on her cheeks, her eyel
ids, barely touching her lips.

  He was treating her as if he cherished her.

  She’d melt all over him if he did that again.

  Easing back up onto her knees, she reached down, working the jeans past his hips and freeing him. She tossed them aside.

  A masculine sound raw with need escaped.

  She’d never felt so wanted, so confident.

  In one of his liquid moves, he was up on his knees, facing her. He pulled her forward, always keeping her close. She grasped him; the feel of velvet skin over his hard erection was pure sensual decadence. Gripping him lightly, she moved her fingers up until her thumb brushed over the damp tip.

  The blitz of Spanish he muttered would have singed the ears of her language instructor. She blushed to her roots from the erotic meaning.

  Gabrielle tried to smother her laugh of pleasure, but couldn’t hide her joy at his earthy flattery.

  “Dios mío, you are a she-devil come to kill me.” Carlos drew a deep breath and lowered her across the bed, covering her with his wide body.

  She ran her hands across the cut muscles and toned shapes.

  Her fingertips brushed over a scar on his chest, just over his heart. She replaced her fingers with her lips.

  He stilled.

  Was the scar ugly? Why did her touching it make him uncomfortable? A scar didn’t matter to her.

  She moved her lips along his neck and cheek, finding his mouth and losing herself in the scorching kiss.

  Black night surrounded them, heightening her senses and lowering the walls of her restraint with a man. But she’d had so little experience-if the unremarkable sex with Roberto even counted-she felt unsure of how to move forward.

  So when Carlos asked her in a husky voice, “What do you want me to do?” she panicked for an answer and said, “Surprise me.”

  He chuckled. A low, riveting masculine sound that held a warning. “I’m not sure you want to give that suggestion to a man like me, princess.”

  EIGHTEEN

  PRINCESS?

  Gabrielle had never cared for being treated like royalty growing up, but from Carlos’s lips princess sounded so intimate.

  An endearment.

  She caught his warning about “a man like me.” A man she couldn’t get starry-eyed over, but she was beyond caring.