And that hurt. She pressed her hand against her stomach as utter humiliation filled her. She’d kissed him back. “How you must have laughed.” And that was the worst. While she’d been weaving fantasies about him, even going so far as to consider sleeping with him, he’d been doing his job. Getting close to her, whatever it took.
“Never,” the vehemence in that single word startled her.
He plucked her out of her chair, dragging her over the table and onto his lap so she was facing him, her knees on either side. For a big man, he was fast and so very strong. He framed her face in those large hands, the calloused edges rough against her skin. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
His face remained expressionless, but his eyes reflected a lifetime of pain. Her injured soul recognized his. He was telling the truth.
“Kissing you was wrong.” He was breathing heavily, his body rigid. “A dereliction of duty. A stain on my honor.”
It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. “All that?” Like him, she was stiff, unable to relax. It would be so easy to see him as a hero, as someone she could trust, but they each had an agenda.
His hands slid down from her face and circled her neck. “Yes.”
“Are you going to choke me unconscious again?” It was a testament to his control that he’d done so without really hurting her.
He gave a low growl and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “Tell me to stop.”
Getting more deeply involved with him was stupid, but fate couldn’t be denied. Their paths had crossed, all the actions of their lives bringing them to this moment.
“I can’t.”
His groan was that of a man in mortal pain. She expected a hard, desperate kiss. Was prepared for it.
What she got was the gentlest of caresses, as though he was afraid to believe her. His fingers slid away from her neck and down her arms until he reached her hands. He raised them to his chest, placing them there. His heart was a heavy thud against her palm. The muscles hard and inflexible beneath her palms.
“Nothing we do will make a difference. It can’t.” She swallowed against the pain his words brought. But he was right. They were on opposite sides of this.
“I know.” She should make a lunge for her knife. Or at the very least, push out of his arms.
He’s as much a prisoner of circumstance as I am.
And that made them kindred spirits of a sort.
“You’re duty bound to your king and I’m bound by love to my sisters.” While she respected and admired his dedication, to blindly follow a code of honor without question wasn’t something she could do. Love trumped all else.
“I am the king’s blade.”
That didn’t sound like a position anyone would covet. Not to her. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“I answer only to the king.”
“You’re the king’s personal executioner.” How horrible. “Who does that to a man?” It put so much on Ky’s shoulders. He bore the weight of it alone. “He sits at home on his throne and gives the orders while you carry them out. I don’t think I like him.” Probably not smart to criticize the man.
“My family has always served.” Matter of fact with no room for questioning.
Tradition, honor, and family—all things she’d coveted but knew little about. And now she never would. She’d put a Gravasian in harm’s way, and payment was being demanded for her action.
“Damn Balthazar.” He had more lives than an ancient Terran cat, which was rumored to have nine, avoiding death while those he involved in his schemes perished.
Ky ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Yet if he had not involved you, we would never have met. I cannot regret that.”
Gods, this entire situation was totally fucked up. “I’m glad we met, but I don’t want to die. Let me take the girls and run. You’ll never see us again.”
He shook his head. “I cannot do that.”
It had been too much to hope for. After all, they barely knew each other. Sure, there was a sizzling attraction between them, but there hadn’t been time to discover more. And now there never would be.
“Can you… Can you save the girls?” Desperation clawed at her. “I’ll do anything you want. Help you trap Balthazar.”
“You’d betray your brother?”
A snarl of fury erupted from her. “He’s related by the blood of Helldrick, but he’s no brother, as Helldrick has never been a father. But the girls, they’re innocent and sweet. I was a second mother to them.”
“Yet, you left them.”
The verbal jab hit hard. She dropped her hands and would have climbed off his lap if he hadn’t caught her around the waist, anchoring her there.
“I had no choice. I had to get free and find a safe place so I could send for them. I’m not their mother, but she’s gone now. That makes them mine.” Her breath was coming too fast. She forced herself to take several deep ones. “I’m all they have.”
What was he thinking? He seemed so remote and alone. But he’d had to be, hadn’t he? This man had killed. Not like the men in her family, for money and profit. No, Ky had killed for honor and country, because he was fighting for something bigger than himself.
“I don’t want to die.” The reality of the situation sank into her bones. Her body began to tremble, her teeth chattered. All the heat had drained from her.
On a groan of pain, he dragged her close and buried his face in her neck. “I don’t want to have to kill you.” His big body shuddered. They clung to each other, two lost souls battered by an uncaring universe.
Some would say their meeting was fated, that their paths were set and could not be altered.
Fuck that.
She pulled back and cupped his face, the light stubble of his jaw prickling against her skin. “Then don’t. We’re both intelligent. There has to be a way your honor and that of your king can be served so I can live and save the girls, get them away from this life.”
His dark eyes were shuttered. Did he think she was playing him?
“You want to know the truth. Your king wants that. I can help you get it.” It was a long shot, but it was better than giving up. “We won’t know until we try.” She rubbed her lips together. Inspiration hit. “If we fail, take me back to Gravas with the girls. Find a safe home for them and hand me over to your king. That way, you’re not responsible for what happens to me.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t know.” She brushed his thick black hair away from his face. “I should be terrified of you or repelled by who and what you are.” The flinch was subtle but there. “But I’m drawn to you. You’re a survivor just as I am. Life hasn’t been kind to either of us.”
“You’re telling the truth.” There was wonder in his voice. Certainty, too.
“You can tell?”
“Yes.” That was it. He offered no more. He was so used to keeping himself closed off from others. She got it. She was the same with everyone but her sisters. Inviting people into your life and heart made you vulnerable, gave you a weakness that could be exploited.
“I won’t run.” There was no point. “Promise you won’t kill me. Let someone else do it.”
“I’m an assassin and you’re one of my targets. You should run screaming.”
She gave him a lopsided, forced grin. “Maybe I’m not all that smart.” Scratch that, she was out of her ever-loving mind. Anyone else, she’d think them insane for what she was about to do.
“Life is short.” And hers was going to be snipped off soon unless a miracle occurred. She didn’t want to die a virgin, wanted to taste life before it was ripped away.
“What are you saying?”
He was going to make her say it. “I want you. In spite of everything, I want you.”
Chapter Seven
Kyler surged to his feet with Etta in his arms and strode down the hallway to her bedroom, half afraid he’d misheard or she’d change her mind. He’d been here be
fore, but this time was different. This time he’d been invited.
He kicked the door shut behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. “There’s no one else in this room with us.” Their loyalties were divided, but that wasn’t enough to quell the desire that flowed between them.
“Only us,” she agreed.
Was this a ruse, some trick to get him to lower his guard? Mistrust was built into his DNA. He suspected everybody of ulterior motives. And Etta was no different. She wanted to live. But more, she wanted to save her sisters.
Maggs’s tearstained face appeared in his head but he shoved it away. “What about the girls?” The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted. He walked to the bed and set her down beside it. There was a chair in the corner. He took it and jammed it under the door handle. No one would take him unawares.
The damaged window had been replaced. He went to it and pulled the blinds, not about to give anyone a visual for a possible shot.
“Um, the girls usually sleep well once I’m here.”
He removed the cloak and draped it over the chair, making sure the weapons secreted into the inner pockets weren’t visible. It was either put it there or on the floor. Etta was shifting her weight from one leg to another, her gaze darting around the room and finally down at her feet, her uncertainty palpable.
“I can leave.” As much as he craved her closeness, wanted to strip her naked and lose himself in her sweet warmth, he would never push her into anything she didn’t want. There was no way he could leave her alone outside this room. She might panic and run. Or more likely, Balthazar or her father might come after her.
It would be a definitely pleasure to rid the world of those two.
“Stay.” With that single word, their path was set. A light pink crept up her face. “I guess I should get undressed.”
“Let me.” The top and pants she wore were shades of brown and crafted from sturdy fabrics designed to last. They were too rough for her skin. She should always be draped in soft, luxurious clothing or, better yet, his body.
He undid every fastener one at a time, the backs of his hands brushing against her breasts. Her breath hitched as he exposed one creamy inch at a time. As an assassin, he knew many ways to kill, was aware of every pressure point in the body and just how far it could be pushed.
The upside of that? For every way there was to bring pain, there were ways to bring pleasure. Seduction was a skill like any other. He’d learned it but employed it rarely. He was too forthright for those kinds of games.
Now, he was glad for those skills. He wanted to know what made her sigh, what pleased her. Every muscle in his body was tense with anticipation. And he was only getting started.
“Ky.” His name was a breathless whisper.
“Kyler. My name is Kyler el Darkos.” He never told anyone his birth name. It was information that could be used against him. But he needed to hear her say it. He was a ghost, sliding through the various worlds he visited, unseen and unacknowledged, living in the darkness alone. Only she could make him real, more than a shadowy killer.
“Kyler el Darkos.”
Everything inside him stilled before roaring to life. The world snapped into focus, no longer shadows and gray, but light and filled with color. It was as though he’d spent his entire life searching for this particular moment.
“It suits you,” she continued, blithely unaware of the raw emotions slamming him. “It’s substantial and serious.” Her soft smile had his heart racing and his cock hard and hurting.
Pushing his hands beneath her open shirt, he slid it from her shoulders. His hands shook with anticipation—an unheard-of occurrence. He opened and closed them several times as he studied her. The bra she wore was sturdy and mostly plain but for a small embroidered flower on the edge of both cups. He ran his thumbs over the delicate pink petals. “Pretty.”
“I did them myself. I wanted something nice but this was cheaper.”
It hurt him in ways he’d never thought anything could to imagine her wanting pretty things she couldn’t afford. Her room and wardrobe were utilitarian. Any money she’d made was likely saved. It certainly wasn’t spent on anything for herself from what he’d seen.
“You don’t need adornment.”
Her smile bloomed, her entire face radiant, pulling him further from the dark. He traced his fingers over the edges of the garment, savoring the anticipation. The clasp was an easy front closure. He twisted it open. The cups peeled back, exposing her to him for the first time.
Mouth watering, he nuzzled one plump mound and then the other.
“Kyler.” Her fingers gripped his hair and dragged him closer.
A growl of possessiveness rose up from a primal place within him. Mine!
Her nipples had darkened, tightening into hard buds. He sipped one between his lips and sucked.
“Yes. So good.” She trembled.
He caught her up in his arms and laid her on the bed, coming down beside her. Propping one hand under his head, he used the other to explore, fondling one full breast and then the other, teasing and tasting.
She shoved at his shirt. “Take it off. I want to touch you.”
He wanted that more than his next breath but knew the mood would be broken. Nothing I can do about it. Kyler rolled off the bed and removed his weapon’s holster, setting it on the bedside table so his laser was within easy reach. Some would consider it foolhardy. But he was no one’s fool. He flicked his thumb over the sensor, locking it down.
He might want her, might want to trust her, but past history had taught him painful and valuable lessons. Now was not the time to shrug them off.
Etta sat up and curled her arms around her legs. He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the chair.
“What are you wearing?” She leaned forward and stroked his arm. The muscles in his forearm contracted.
“Battlesuit.”
Her mouth dropped. “By the gods, I’ve heard of them but never seen one. They cost a fortune. More than some spaceships.”
It was standard equipment for him and all Gravasian soldiers. They saw it as a practicality, a necessity. The cost was irrelevant as it was provided for every warrior.
In Gravasian society, no one went hungry or without essential tools. Why would they when it was readily available and everyone was willing to contribute to the greater good? Money wasn’t prized there as it was on many worlds. A man strove to provide a comfortable life for his family and protect them, have good friends, and uphold his honor. That was how he counted his worth. The women added their skills along with warmth and love to turn their houses into homes and for the betterment of society. And children were cherished by all.
He opened the fastening and pushed the battlesuit down to his waist.
As much as he wanted to be totally naked with her, that wasn’t going to happen. Not here where there wasn’t a way to properly secure things. If something happened, he didn’t want to be caught totally naked.
As it was, he was taking a huge risk. If something went wrong, they could both die. He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed himself for wanting her so much. “This isn’t safe.”
“Helldrick won’t be back tonight, and I haven’t seen Balthazar in days.” Light pressure on his abs had his eyes flying open. She was kneeling on the bed in front of him with her lips against his stomach.
“You can’t be sure they won’t show.” His voice was as hoarse as if he’d been on a five-day bender in some backward planet bar inhaling secondhand smoke from illegal cigarettes. Not that he’d ever done such a thing. His discipline was too well engrained. But he’d heard others who lacked such control.
“No, I can’t.” She came up on her knees, her breasts pressing against him, her nipples dragging over his skin. “I’m willing to take the risk. Are you?”
He plunged his fingers into her hair. It was soft as silk and shimmered like the finest gold. Many women would kill for hair like hers. Not to mention her eyes, which were as blue as a su
mmer’s day on Gravas. Yet, she didn’t consider herself beautiful.
“I shouldn’t.” He wasn’t the kind of man most people—male or female—were comfortable around. And he didn’t know how to act in the company of others—too much time on his own, by necessity and design.
He was tired of existing, of going from one mission to the next. Yes, it was for the greater good, but a man needed more. He needed more.
He needed Etta.
“I’m going to burn in the depths of Gravas for this.” He lowered his head. Her lips were slightly parted, the bottom one plumper from where she’d been nibbling on it.
“Etta.” He kissed her, allowing her to taste his frustration, his need, the conflict eating at his soul. Her arms banded around him. People kept him at arm’s length. They didn’t pull him close. Not even the handful of lovers he’d had sex with.
Those times had been about mutual pleasure. Quick couplings over as fast as he could manage while making sure his partners found release.
This wasn’t anything like that.
He could spend days exploring every inch of her creamy skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. All they’d done was kiss and she’d already ruined him for any other woman. An assassin trained since he was a child, his instincts were honed to the sharpest edge. The veneer of civilization he wore was thin. Around her, it was practically nonexistent.
A beast roared to life inside him. Claim her. Keep her.
Win or lose, life or death, Etta was the only woman for him.
Kneeling on the bed, he eased her down until she was sprawled on the bed once again. He didn’t break the kiss, continuing to stroke his tongue against hers. She smelled like cinnamon and tasted of mint. They would forever be the scents of home.
****
The man could kiss.
Breathless, she was swept away by the force of his passion. His grip on the back of her head was gentle but unbreakable, as if he feared she’d try to get away and wanted to stop her.
As if. She wasn’t going anywhere. Safety was an illusion. A part of her had known that even when she’d run away.
Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) Page 7
