by Cara Lake
“Eight!” Irina was shocked. “You were just a child!” she exclaimed, trying not to imagine the “interesting ways” his uncle had taken care of him.
“Believe me, I was glad to go. If I had stayed, either he would have killed me or I might well have killed him.”
Her heart clenched in a vise grip of sympathy for the small black-haired boy, sitting alone in a dark cinema, nowhere to go. She imagined him alone on the streets, defenseless. How had he survived? Why stay on the streets? Why hadn’t his aunt helped? “What did your uncle do to you, Tyr?” she asked softly and then bit her lip as she realized the intrusiveness of her question. Irina felt him bristle, his body going tense.
Tyr cursed and suddenly swerved the car off the road. Jerking on the handbrake he pivoted round to face her, his broad shoulders invading the space. He raked a hand through ebony-black hair fixing the darkness of his eyes onto hers. “You really don’t want to know, Irina, but between him and the street gangs I learned how to defend myself. My fighting skills aren’t just the result of Sal’s training. I did what I needed to do to survive.”
The vise around her chest wound tighter but there were some questions she needed answered.
“What kinds of things did you do?” She had to ask.
Tyr sighed and then took a deep breath, needing to be honest. “Today wasn’t the first time I’ve had to kill someone.”
He felt her body still, the tension between them stretched taut, the threads of their connection straining under the weight of his confession. Tyr knew she abhorred violence and as much as he couldn’t bear to see a look of contempt in her eyes, he needed to be truthful with her even if she hated him for it.
“I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t attack me first.” He turned toward her but she avoided his gaze, her arms wrapped around her chest, creating a barrier between them. “It was always self-defense. I…I know that’s not an excuse.” He kept his eyes on hers, searching her face with forlorn hope as she turned back to look at him. “But it is the truth.”
Her eyes held his steadily, giving nothing away. “How many?” she asked her voice impassive.
“Before today—three.”
“And you would have died if you hadn’t…” She left the words unsaid.
“Without a doubt.”
He held his breath, watching as she closed her eyes. “Then you did what you had to do.”
He finally breathed again, her quiet acceptance warming him as nothing ever had before. Tyr watched in silence, waiting on the edge of a precipice until her eyes finally reopened and the golden liquid poured into him. Penetrating. Healing. Soothing.
“How did you manage to survive?” It was a question laced with incredulity. “We had to steal to eat. The older lads used the younger ones as lookouts and distractions. It was all very Oliver Twist.” He stared past her trying to block unwanted images from his past. Taking a deep breath again he shook his head slowly. “Truthfully Irina,” he said quietly, “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, been places I don’t ever want to go again.”
“Did you…did you ever break into houses?” The question was loaded with tension, her small frame rigid as she awaited his reply.
“Only once,” he confirmed. “It was just before Abrasax took me to Sal. That was…let’s just say it was one of the worst experiences of my life.” He couldn’t control the bitterness in his voice not wanting to dwell on that particular night.
“I swore never to get involved in that kind of thing again. They didn’t just rob the family. They…” He broke off, locking eyes with her, hoping she would see nothing but regret. “I tried to protect one of the children…” He shook his head shrugging away the dark memory. “Let’s just say that Sal was the best thing that ever happened to me and Abrasax is responsible for his death. I’m not going to let that slide.”
He was shocked when she leaned into him. Whatever tension there had been between them dissipated, leaving only that strange static buzz sizzling in the air. Her arms slid around his body and she hugged him tightly. The comfort she gave diffused into a vortex of compulsion, her body a magnet for his. Tyr could not believe he had told her so much and she had remained with him. Why had she not run screaming from the car? No one had ever made him feel the way she did. He loved the way her body reacted to his, how she melted into his touch. She was liquid fire. Just one touch and he was turned to ash. She was sexy as hell and he needed to be inside her. But not here. She deserved more. So much more.
Irina’s heart ached for the man in her arms. He had been so young, so defenseless. She believed him when he said it was kill or be killed on the streets, and she knew that what he had done recently, he had done for her protection. But he had only answered part of her question. She needed to know the whole, even if the truth of it hurt.
The vise twisted again and her heart almost burst with the agony of knowing. She should hate him. The family he mentioned, she knew deep down it was hers. She was finding it hard to reconcile the swirl of emotions that spiraled inside her head as she remembered them. The devastation. The loss. The anger. And him. Tyr. Her thoughts centered on her memories of that night. He had been there, as she’d long suspected. Tyr the boy had kept her hidden, his actions protecting her from detection. Tyr the man had cradled her from harm at the police station, had fought against their captors at the mansion…for her. Everything he had done had been a battle for survival. If he hadn’t fought the way he had all his life, then she probably would not be here now. Instead, she would be buried in a grave beside her parents and her sister.
The vise loosened its grip, allowing her heart to burst forth, a hammering rhythm drumming her ribs into submission. She raised her face to his and discovered his eyes intent, hungrily scanning her face. Thoughts of resistance fled as she imagined the desolate isolation of the feral child he’d once been. The threads of their connection tying knots around her heart and soul, her mouth fell against his as the magnet of attraction yanked them into collision. The resulting kiss drove Irina nearly senseless with desire, their lips melding in a heated fusion of molten passion. Her brain ceased to function as sensation overwhelmed, engulfing every atom in her now hypersensitive flesh. His hands were in her hair, sliding up her waist, grasping her hips and stroking her neck. She felt the graze of his lips against her skin leave tingling warmth with each new caress.
“Irina,” he murmured, fevered lips against her hair, breath ragged with need. “Let’s get to the motel. We need to go now or I’m going to have to strip you naked right here, right now and I won’t be able to stop myself. Your body is doing crazy things to mine.” He brought her hand to rest on the fly of his jeans. “Feel what you do to me, Irina. I’m rock-hard for you, little dove.” She heard him whisper a curse, felt his reluctant withdrawal and immediately lamented the loss of his heat when he pulled back.
Speechless, Irina froze, shocked not just by the hard evidence of his erection in her hand but also by his words and the reaction of her body to his. Her brain was in surrender mode, unwilling to fight. She was a walking bowl of jelly where he was concerned. She knew she ought to resist, but she so didn’t want to. Go with the flow. Resistance is futile. A dozen clichés rattled through her head. Finally she managed a nod, her cheeks heated with the rush of blood, and withdrawing her hand, reluctantly slid back into her seat. Tyr maneuvered the car back onto the road at breakneck speed. Irina didn’t care, the promise of the motel a lighted beacon in the distance.
Chapter Sixteen
A short time later, Tyr pulled into the motel parking lot and drew to a stop. Irina had dozed off a little, exhausted by the intensity of recent events, not least of all those passionate moments in the car. Tyr checked in and then returned to carry her small body gently from the car to their room. She stirred in his arms, nuzzling into his neck, the passion flower scent of her hair invading his senses again and he found himself imagining what it would be like to have a woman like her always by his side.
There were so many
question marks hanging over them at the moment but he had surprised himself by trusting her enough to share memories of his childhood. He’d had little cause to put his faith in others since his uncle’s betrayal, and his experience of the backstabbing street gangs had only reinforced his wariness of others. Abrasax’s persona was a façade and even Sal had lied about what he really was. He wanted to trust that Irina was as she appeared to be, a beautiful haven of tranquility, a soothing balm to the storms that battled inside him. His attraction toward Irina was also still tempered with the barrier of his dealings with Abrasax. Sal’s daughters’ lives were hanging in the balance and until he had answers, he needed to keep a clear head where Irina was concerned. He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure whose side she was on. At this moment he didn’t care. He wanted her.
Waking as he laid her on the bed, Irina sat up looking dazed and adorably disheveled. “Where are we?” she asked, an expression of confusion crossing her face. “In the motel,” said Tyr. “You nodded off.”
Irina gazed up at Tyr. He walked towards the bed, his intentions clear, desire and lust shining in his eyes. Blushing, the memory of those passionate kisses in the car suddenly fresh in her mind, she took a deep breath, hugging her knees close. She had never wanted anyone this much, but the need to tell him of their deeper connection was an imperative.
“Tyr, I need to tell you something.” She hesitated, not sure how to proceed. “You know before,” she began slowly, “you said you saw me at the fight.” Tyr nodded, smiling at the memory.
“Believe me, you were hard to miss.”
His smile cut straight through her heart as she remembered the aching intensity of that moment. But she had to continue. “I think…I think we met before that.” His dark brows creased in confusion. “I would have remembered if we had,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no way I would ever have forgotten meeting you.”
“It was years ago,” Irina continued, “the night my…my family died. I was a child. Ten years old.” Tyr’s eyes flared, blackness spreading, and she thought there was a flicker of comprehension, a spark of realization of the truth of their connection. Coils of electrical energy sprung into place amplifying the magnetic compulsion. He went utterly still.
“How did they die?” he finally asked.
“There was a break-in by a gang and they were murdered.”
“Where were you?” As he spoke, Tyr’s dark eyes locked on to hers.
“I was upstairs… I hid.”
A face scanning the room for hiding places.
“Bellor!” A shout. A name.
“Look for the girl!”
The boy’s response. “She’s not in here!”
His face intent on the box. Intent on her as if he could see through the wooden barrier.
Into her soul.
Black eyes, dark as night.
Fingers to his lips.
Ssshh!
A silent plea.
A light switched off.
Irina scanned his face watching him struggle to make sense of her words. Tyr muttered a curse under his breath and seemed to think twice before he spoke. “It was you! Fuck! You were the one hiding in the toy box.” He cursed again running a trembling hand through black hair, eyes filled with dark confusion.
Tyr stood frozen as Irina closed her eyes, sagging forward, her head falling to her knees. Eventually she looked up at him again, her eyes full, not just with tears but with abject horror. His chest clenched with pain as he registered an understanding of the connection between them. A connection he had nothing but regret for. That he had been there when her family were butchered! He remembered his own revulsion at the sight of the bloodstained room, the young mother lying protectively over the body of a young girl, the father a beaten bloody mess, barely recognizable as human! Had Irina seen that?
His heart, the cold numb stone in his chest that had just begun to thaw, shattered into a thousand pieces, each broken shard slicing into his flesh as he imagined those images through the eyes of a young child…Irina…his Irina…but not his. No. She would hate him forever! How could she even look at him knowing that he had been there when her family died?
“Irina…I…” He barely got the words out. “I’m so sorry. I was there…but…I came after…after it was over. They made us search the entire house.” His voice faltered, dark eyes full of sorrow locking on to the wet droplets glistening as they gathered, filling the golden amber pools beneath her lids. “They wanted the sister… They were looking for the other child. They wanted you.”
Tyr could hardly bear to watch her tears fall, so he turned away, clenching his fists as despair so enormous engulfed him, battering their tenuous thread with an undeniable truth. Realization crushed his hopes to pieces, as he finally understood the hopelessness of the link that bound them together, a link that would now be broken by the consequences of his past actions. He could never be with Irina. Not now. Not ever.
“You must hate me,” he said, his voice a broken, hoarse whisper. He felt her rise from the bed and stand behind him. Small hands pulled him around to face her and he braced himself for a blow that never came. Instead he felt the soft warmth of her palm flutter against his cheek. Tyr opened his eyes to the heat of fire in hers and a determined expression on her face.
“Tyr!” she breathed, her voice like a balm to his shattered soul. “How could I hate you? You saved me.” Her voice shook with unspoken emotion. He stood immobile, his jaw dropping as hope surged within and he realized the utter miracle of this woman. She was grateful. She forgave him!
She should have been angry, bitter, repulsed. But no. Gorgeous, beautiful Irina, whose spirit was a soothing embrace to the conflicts that warred inside him, stood gazing into his eyes as if he were some kind of savior. He was so not worthy!
“You could have told them where I was. You knew I was in the box. I could see you, but you pretended I wasn’t there and you told me to stay quiet.” Irina continued, her voice soft and gentle as she recalled watching the fingers he had pressed to his lips, that one motion, soothing a young child’s fears. “There is a connection between us, Tyr. I felt it even then and even though I’ve been trying to fight against it…I can’t anymore.”
Her hands trembled as she pressed them flat against his chest. “I want you, Tyr,” she breathed.
Amber eyes flickered upward and Tyr was falling, drowning in the liquid gaze. A confusion of emotions spiraled in his chest. Desire. Relief. Shock. Hesitantly he placed his hands over hers. “Irina!” His voice broke, rough in his throat, choking as he struggled to find words. She still wanted him.
“Sssh!” She placed a finger against his lips, a wave of calm washing over him as she repeated, “I want you, Tyr…but I…I’ve…never…” Irina was blushing now as she searched for the words to explain. She didn’t need to. He understood.
“You’ve never?” he questioned gently, just to be sure. When she shook her head, his heart somersaulted three hundred and sixty degrees in his chest as the reality of her confession sank in. Tyr could hardly speak. “Are you…sure…you want to?”
She nodded.
Tyr couldn’t believe the gift she was giving him. He felt a surge of energy through the threads that connected them, binding him to her in ways he could never explain. The trust she was placing in his hands made him worship her even more. “We’ll take it slow,” he said gently, his arms wrapping around her, drawing her close. “We don’t need to do anything you don’t want.” He refused to take advantage of her innocence. God! He didn’t deserve anything as sweet and as pure as Irina. “Just let me hold you.”
Sliding his hands behind her back to pull her closer he let himself fall again into the twin pools of amber fire. The fire burned into his soul, branding him as hers, melting his stone heart. She raised her lips, drawn to his by the inexorable magnetic force that was a constant tug between them. A caress as their lips meshed together with a heat that surged through his veins, igniting his blood, exploding with a force close t
o nuclear. The kiss went on. And on.
Searing.
Blinding.
Eternal.
Feeling the soft urgent push of her breasts against his chest, the curve of her hips merging into his erection, Tyr gave in to the sweetness of her touch. Lifting her up, his hands clasping her backside, he guided her backward, pressing her warmth hard against the door, breaking the kiss as Irina’s legs clamped around his waist, a perfect fit. He could feel her hands fisting in his hair as he continued a trail of kisses from jaw to throat. She groaned in appreciation.
Somehow the buttons of her shirt came apart as they twisted away from the wall and over to the bed. Tyr’s hands were shaking as he drew aside the soft cotton fabric to reveal the beauty that lay beneath. Irina’s body jerked in trembling submission as he pushed aside her lacy bra and was dazzled by the magnificent glory of two creamy mounds and rosy peaks that quivered against his rough fingers. Tyr cupped one perfect breast in his hand. It felt so right, so inevitable. Her nipples hard against his palm, he squeezed, reveling in the velvety softness of her skin.
“Irina…” He almost choked again. “You are so, so beautiful…so soft…so utterly perfect.” He bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth, tonguing the succulent bead and sucking hard.
She gasped, arching her back to give him better access, hands clasped to the back of his head and legs gripping around his waist. He let his tongue dance over the pearled bud, the sweet taste sending ripples of sensation causing an aching throb, blood racing to his groin. Tyr fell back onto the bed with Irina straddling him, her core rubbing against the erection in his jeans with delicious friction. Too many barriers!
As Irina leaned forward planting kisses against his neck, Tyr used his strength to flip her body so that he lay above, her soft breasts pressing into his hard pecs. Her small hands tugged insistently pulling off his sweater and Tyr caught her shy smile of satisfaction as she skimmed her hands across his chest. “Finally!” she breathed. “I’ve been waiting to do this forever.”
