No Law Against Love 2

by Zoë Archer

  Who was this man to walk so boldly into the king’s presence without announcement? Angelique shivered as his masculine vibrations encapsulated her. He sauntered to the dais and leaned over to whisper something only the king was privy to. The king grinned, showing his age-stained teeth.

  The dark figure swiveled and narrowed his yellow-gold eyes on her. His blatant perusal heated her skin and confused her senses. The passion in the depths of his smoldering eyes startled her. Her pulse quickened in response to his continuous stare, and her legs threatened to collapse.

  A strange buzzing sounded in her head as words sped through her mind too fast to capture. It was as if some unknown presence tried to infiltrate her head. Her body swayed and her eyes shut as visions of the man before her penetrated her mind.

  Fangs. Blood. Death.

  Her eyes opened in horror as she contemplated the man who now cradled her within his embrace. Damnation! How had he gotten here?

  His animal-like eyes studied her with interest…and something else she didn’t quite comprehend. His nearness overwhelmed her. Aware of the strength and warmth of his body, her instinctive response was powerful and unfamiliar. His sensual firm lips lingered mere inches from her own as his hot breath fanned across her face.

  “Damien, vat ails her? And someone get dat blasted cat before all hell breaks loose,” bellowed the king.

  “I believe she fainted, Your Grace.”

  “For your information, sir, I do not swoon.” Angelique pushed herself up onto her elbows and searched for Lancelot. Before panic could set in, the black fur ball jumped onto her lap, puffed up, and hissed at the man the king had called Damien.

  He stood and glared at her cowering pet. His large frame towered over them, and Lancelot ducked his head under her arm.

  What is the matter with you? Angelique inquired.

  I sense danger.

  The king clapped his hands together. “Take de voman avay vile I decide vat to do.”

  The guards led Angelique back to the tiny anteroom to await her fate.

  ~~~

  “Damien, a vord.” The king motioned him forward.

  “Yes, Your Majesty?” Damien executed his best rendition of a courtly bow with great sarcastic embellishment.

  “I should clap you in irons, you insolent devil.” King George chuckled. “You are lucky to find yourself in such favor.”

  “Yes, lucky. You have need of me?” What was his wily king up to now? A mischievous gleam brightened the king’s usually dull, protruding eyes. Damien had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the king’s answer.

  “I could not help but notice some attraction between you and de chit. You find de young woman attractive, ja?”

  Damien groaned. He hoped this wasn’t another of the king’s attempts to match him with a mate. “I suppose she is fair enough. Is that what you wanted? For me to confirm the girl is attractive?” In truth, Damien found her stunning. She’d stirred a passion in him he hadn’t felt in many centuries. As he held her in his arms, he’d desired to lick the flesh just above the curve of her slender white neck. Ripples of some lost emotion had tumbled through his very core. What did it mean?

  “She is de first voman I have seen you pay de least attention to.”

  “I have no interest in—”

  The king held up his hand to halt Damien’s words.

  “Do not lie. I am quite avare of lust ven I see it.” He glanced at his mistresses and winked. They giggled in unison. “De girl—or more accurately, her cat—has broken de law, and I am at a loss of vat to do. Any suggestions?”

  Damien recognized the glint in the man’s eyes. The king already had a suggestion. He felt it in his bones. “No, I do not.” His muscles tensed as he waited to discover what he would be required to endure.

  “I cannot bear to send de poor girl to jail for vat her evil cat did, so I vood like to place her in de custody of someone I trust until her debt is paid. Do you know anyone who might fill dis duty?”

  Damien was no fool. He knew what the king had in mind. “Perhaps Mohomet or Mustapha?”

  “Bah! Stop de games. You know it is you I speak of. You are in charge of de girl called Angelique until I deem her crime paid in full. She vill reside vith you.”

  Damien’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. Damn this German king! “I cannot be expected to play nursemaid to some chit. How will I protect you if I am otherwise engaged?” He had no intention of getting involved with any female, especially one that brought his every sense to life. He couldn’t. It would mean an instant death sentence for the unfortunate soul. Responsible for far too many deaths through the centuries already, he refused to be the cause of another.

  “I have guards aplenty and vill be quite safe vithout you for a while. Besides, a female companion vill do you good. You must admit she is lovely.” His two mistresses snorted and contorted their faces into ugly scowls.

  “I must regrettably refuse this task for the girl’s safety. Her reputation would be irreparably damaged, and I have no knowledge of caring for females.”

  “It is not an option you have, my friend. Now, do not anger me further vith your excuses. She vill be released into your custody where you vill take her to your residence. Find a suitable chaperone if you are dat worried about her reputation.”

  Chaperone? I can’t afford to have another human living within my household. Clenching his fists tightly, he knew he was beat. Damn. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” Damien ground out between clamped teeth.

  Fury boiled inside him as he stomped out of the room. He’d now have to expend his energy protecting the girl. Once her presence was known, she would be fair game for Rafaele.

  His enemy.

  Rafaele had waited centuries for him to find his life-mate, so he could destroy the one love of his life just as he thought Damien had destroyed his. And after all these centuries of being careful to never show interest in any woman, knowing Rafaele would smell the attraction in the air and come slithering out of the bowels of hell to wreak his vengeance. All for naught! Damien was furious with himself. By allowing his senses to control his body, he’d made a deadly mistake with the woman—Angelique. Rafaele would soon catch whiff of his lust, so he must be at the ready. He refused to add another sin to the long list he held close to his demon heart.

  He’d sworn himself to protect England, the land where he’d unleashed his most horrific crimes. Through the centuries, he’d served each monarch faithfully—protecting, guiding. Trying to amend for atrocities committed before gaining control of the beast within.

  Unbearable loneliness pained him, but it was just punishment. Yet seeing the beautiful Angelique had set his blood afire. What was so different about her? Certainly she was beautiful, but he’d come in contact with many beautiful women through the ages. No, there was something else.

  Her vanilla-laced scent, warmed from his embrace, had made him dizzy with desire. No female had affected him in such a manner. He’d heard her heart pound loud in his ears, and he’d memorized the rhythmic beauty of each beat. Her pulse throbbed in the succulent vein at her throat. It was all he could do to resist the urge to sink his teeth deep into her flesh and suck the nectar from her body. When her violet eyes looked into his, he’d been lost. Why had he been able to resist the court beauties that threw themselves daily at his feet, only to turn to mush from just a glance from an innocent—one with a damnable cat?

  Damien hung his head in disgust. How could he live in the same vicinity as her and maintain his distance when his every sense screamed to be stroked? Stroked by a purple-eyed angel who’d somehow managed to burrow her way through his ice-covered heart. He’d kept his urges in check for centuries, only to be undone within a matter of seconds.

  Entering the anteroom, he strode directly in front of her and glowered, hoping to send her screaming to—where? Damned if he knew. Away from him. Away from Rafaele.

  “You are to return to the king. He will once again grant you an audience—and seal your fate.�
�� That said, he walked away without a backward glance.

  Damn the king and his meddling.

  ~~~

  The king’s ruling on her punishment shocked Angelique. He’d given her two choices—jaol or confinement with an appointed guardian. Having heard of the horrors of jaol, she quickly chose the guardian. She wondered who it would be. Probably some poor family owing the king a favor. Deep in thought, she stroked Lancelot’s fur and awaited her keeper.

  Now see what you’ve done? Had you stifled your urges, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.

  Lancelot stretched and flicked his tail. ‘Twas but a few moments of blissful pleasure. How was I to know the king’s mistress would cause such a fuss?

  The door crashed open, and Damien filled the threshold with his muscled form. The intensity in his eyes frightened Angelique. Lancelot growled low in his throat.

  “Come with me.” The man sounded angry, but she couldn’t fathom what she had done to cause such anger.

  She glanced to the king, who barely nodded his assent. She then stood and followed Damien’s erect form. “Where are we going?”

  “To my dwelling. The king has graciously placed you in my keeping for the duration of your incarceration—thanks to you and that damn cat.” He glared at Lancelot.

  Him? This stranger who made her feel things she didn’t understand would be her guardian? She’d heard voices when he’d held her. She’d sensed… No! It couldn’t be! “What are you saying?”

  He stopped and glared at her. “It means, my dear lady, you will be living with me.”

  Angelique gasped. Live with him? This man who frightened her, yet made her body melt from just a touch? He seemed too knowing, and far too dangerous. He would figure out her secret and condemn her like all the others.

  “I cannot allow this to happen.”

  “It matters not what you will allow. I have as much choice as you. Think not that I want this, for I do not.” His yellow-gold eyes darkened to deep amber, and fire danced along the rims of the irises. “I would like to know exactly what you are charged with. The king would not tell me, and his mistress became hysterical when I questioned him.”

  “Um…well…you see—”

  “Out with it!”

  “Lancelot was taken with this fluffy white cat while we were in the palace gardens. He jumped out of my arms, and before I could stop him he…well…er…”

  “He what?”

  “He had…intimate relations with the fluffy white cat.”

  Damien impaled her with his steady gaze.

  “You are telling me I am stuck with you because your cat fornicated with the king’s pet?”

  She could only nod. Her head throbbed as the humming increased in intensity and he continued to frown. She rubbed her temples, willing the pain to subside. What manner of human was he? As if on cue, Lancelot growled, baring pointy teeth.

  Before leaving the palace, Damien donned gloves and a cape. He pulled the hood over his face, hiding his features in shadows. Angelique looked at him in puzzlement. It was unseasonably warm, so why did he have need of gloves and a cape?

  They walked to the edge of the water where a barge awaited. It was covered in a thick dark material. Damien stepped onto the vessel, lifted the material, and motioned her inside. She entered the darkness and sat. He followed her in and settled in the seat opposite hers. His long legs invaded her space and rested against her leg, causing shocks of sensation to race along her thigh and up her spine.

  They traveled the short distance in silence, and she knew he watched her. She felt his gaze upon her skin like a heated caress. She squirmed and jostled Lancelot on her lap. Her skin tingled as she imagined the path his gaze followed. She shivered and tried to focus on anything other than his blatant male presence.

  When they reached their destination, Angelique sighed with relief to be in the daylight once again. Lancelot hissed as Damien helped her from the barge. His strong hands circled her waist and lifted her down. Despite the pull he must have felt as well, he broke the contact as soon as her feet hit the ground, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness.

  He is just being polite. Be nice. He holds our fate in his hands.

  I do not trust him. Lancelot hissed anew, and the fur along the center of his back stood on end.

  Damien hurried into the house, leaving Angelique to chase after him. Why was he in such a rush? They entered the townhouse, which was as dark and gloomy as the barge. She looked around and noticed all the windows had been carefully covered in black velvet. She found the phenomenon strange and disturbing.

  “Why do you keep things so dark?” she asked.

  “I have an aversion to sunlight.” His curt, short answer made her all the more curious.

  “What manner of aversion?”

  “Suffice it to say, sunlight upon my skin is rather…unpleasant.” The look upon his face clearly indicated he had no desire to discuss the topic further.

  “Oh.” Glancing at the floor, she bit her lower lip and worried the fabric of her gown.

  “Why did you come to court?”

  She snapped her attention back to Damien. “I…I wanted to see court life with my own eyes.” It sounded like a lie even to her own ears.

  He narrowed his eyes. “I do not think so. What do you hide?”

  “Um…where will I be staying?” She had to escape his penetrating stare before she blurted the truth. She couldn’t reveal to him that the king was in danger. She knew nothing about this man. He was indeed dangerous to her well-being.

  He bowed. “Pardon my manners. I will show you to your room.”

  Motioning her to climb the stairs, he pressed a possessive hand to the small of her back, urging her forward. Her flesh tingled and warmed where his hand rested. Sensations she didn’t understand flowed through her, causing confusion and pleasure at the same time.

  Once she was safely alone in the room he said would be hers, Angelique fell onto the bed. She couldn’t believe her luck that he’d not forced her to answer his question. What if he were one of the people the king needed to be warned about? Not used to such excitement, the events of the day had frazzled her nerves. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and forget about everything that had happened this day. Trusting her senses that she was safe for the time being, she curled up into a ball, her eyes closing of their own will. Lancelot snuggled beside her and purred, lulling her into a light sleep.

  ~~~

  Damien kept three servants—a cook, a housekeeper, and a gardener—none of whom resided within the house. He couldn’t risk them finding out what manner of creature employed them. Since the staff had left for the day, it was up to him to prepare supper. He couldn’t avoid the woman forever. She had to eat, and he wasn’t insensitive to her needs. He grabbed what he wanted, placed it on a tray, and too soon found himself at Angelique’s door.

  He had business to discuss with the beautiful Angelique, and he planned on finding out what secrets she guarded so intently. But before he had a chance to knock, the door swung open, startling him. The tray teetered in his hands as he struggled to balance it, nearly spilling its contents onto the floor.

  Her hands went to her mouth, covering her full ruby lips. “I am so sorry. I did not know you were here.”

  “No harm.”

  She looked at the tray and moved aside, allowing him entrance. “Thank you. I am famished.”

  He was hungry, too, but not for food. He watched the pulse in her neck beat to the rhythm of her heart. A rhythm he’d come to know well.

  He placed the tray on the table and straightened. Her hand shook as she reached for a hunk of cheese, and her eyes remained lowered. She was nervous with good reason, although she had no knowledge of the impending danger.

  Rafaele would come tonight. But the truth be told, Damien presented the greater danger, for he wanted her with an unbridled passion that would surely consume them both. Losing control was not an option. He must remain aloof and focused on his duty, which wo
uld be near impossible. The innocence she exuded squeezed his heart. And the soft curves of her lush form demanded his attention. Against his will, his gaze roamed her body, settling on the swell of her breasts, then slowly rose to meet her nervous gaze.

  She quickly lowered her eyes once more, pretending to pick at an invisible thread. A blush stained her delicate features, and her vanilla scent, rendered more potent from the rising heat of her body, made him drunk with lust. The increasing tempo of her beating heart pounded in his head, igniting the fire that burned deep in his soul. Arousing feelings he’d kept buried for centuries and had long thought dead.

  His teeth itched to spring forth and suckle the vein that pulsed with maddening fury along her vulnerable throat. Her wide violet eyes spoke of untapped passion and fear. His body shuddered with a need so deep he feared bursting into flames, incinerating the man he struggled to become, just to turn back into the horror he’d once embodied. The pit of his passion throbbed to life, leaving the evidence of his arousal obvious to even the most innocent of eyes.

  He could bend her to his will with a mere glance, but he would not. He wanted more than a frenzied coupling. He yearned for the acceptance only love could consummate. And that love would cost her life. A life he was unwilling to sacrifice. He must make his leave before it was too late.

  “I will leave you to your privacy.” He bowed and turned. Before he took a step, a dainty hand reached out and encircled his forearm. His brows knitted together. “Yes?”

  “Will you not join me?”

  “Oh, I wish to join you. But ‘tis not food I need.”

  Her pink tongue darted out and licked her lips. Between her sweet plea and her innocently erotic tongue, he could no longer deny his raging desire. Dragging her into his possessive embrace, he fed upon her lips as if they were a life source of their own. He pulled her body tighter against his, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to meld with her, become one with her.