by Austin, RB
Forty-five minutes later he walked down the stairs. The peace that normally encompassed him after mass was missing.
Father Gregory stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him.
“Cade.”
“Hello, Father. How’ve you been?”
“Very well. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
On the wall behind the choghen was a framed painting of the Followers’ image of Mary holding baby Jesus. No one ever accurately captured her beauty or the sheer goodness that encased her body in a soft yellow haze. “Work has kept me busy.”
“I assumed but perhaps you abstained because you were afraid I’d return your substantial donation.”
His gaze swung to the choghen. “That wouldn’t have been possible.”
“I have to try.” Father smiled. “In all the years I’ve known you, you haven’t changed.”
Cade raised an eyebrow and scanned the area with all senses to make sure they were alone. “I’m immortal, Father. I’m not going to change.”
“In appearance, no, but there are other ways of changing.” Father waved his hand. “I’m getting off track. I—”
“I can’t eat with you today.”
The choghen startled. “Are things getting worse?”
“Nothing we can’t handle.”
“Of course, forgive me for prying. I’m here to thank you in person for your gift. We’ll be able to cloth and feed fifty homeless men and women. I also want to tell you the police caught the youngsters who broke into the sacristy.”
Cade’s face remained expressionless. “Great.”
Father cocked his head. “The officer in charge received an anonymous tip of their whereabouts.”
“You don’t say. Were you able to recover any of the money?”
“No, but I’m not surprised. I’m sure it was gone within ten minutes. They’ve been sentenced to community service and will be helping the church on occasion.”
Cade’s eyebrows drew together. “Lock your valuables while they’re here.” He paused and his voice softened. “You can’t save everyone.”
Father studied him for a long moment. “I’ve learned some need to save themselves, while others need to open their hearts for saving.”
Cade frowned. “You’ll watch over them?”
“Of course. They’ll most likely shovel snow for shut-ins or help at the soup kitchen.”
Cade nodded in approval then cleared his throat. “I may not be in for a while. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you’ve a need.”
The choghen extended his hand and after Cade clasped it said, “Of course and nevertheless I’ll keep your section waiting for you at the seven o’clock mass.”
Emma pushed herself into a sitting position. She noticed two things at once. One, she was alone. Two, Cade must have disconnected the IV when she was sleeping.
The rational side of her brain spoke. Don’t just sit there. Find the closest exit door. Kidnapper or not, you don’t need more heartbreak.
Ditto. Her irrational side piped in.
An easy decision. Truly.
Images of the kiss they shared in the pool flashed through her head. Her body flushed. She was still sick and should probably continue her medication. Plus she’d no place to be and nothing but crushing reality when she did go. Maybe staying another two or three days to finish the medication was the best thing. If Cade kept her longer then she’d find a way out. And she wouldn’t allow herself to get closer to him. Just because he was the first person she told about her parents’ death didn’t mean anything. “Safety net,” she snorted. Ridiculous. Just overtired and worked up over their little kiss. It’d been a while. There was no need to romanticize what happened.
So she was staying. Emma’s eyes traveled around the room. Comfy bed, room service, a nice pool. Yes, she was just on vacation. This was an extremely nice hotel. A free hotel, which was good because she was going to be flat broke soon. Time away was necessary. The next few months would be seeped in reality. And after finding a job she was going to that shrink. Living in denial had seemed like a wonderful thing to do when she was fourteen. At twenty-seven, not so much. It was childish. It was time to be an adult. Emma bit her bottom lip, eyes falling on the silver tray of food that Jeeves must have brought up. But she could put off being an adult for a few more days. Her gaze moved to the phone behind the tray.
Despite Cade’s assurance, she wanted to make sure Sean and Jenny were all right.
Emma reached for the receiver on the table by the bed and stopped. A folded piece of paper lay on the table. Her name was written on top in an unfamiliar, elegant scrawl.
Emma, please go into the room on your left when you’ve a moment. I’ve a surprise for you.
Cade.
In the hallway, Emma hesitated in front of the closed door. Perhaps she should have pondered this adventure before simply complying to the well-written, polite request. What would she find behind the door? Her heart jumped in her chest. Emma shook her head. She couldn’t continue to be indecisive about this. Either Cade was a kidnapper and she needed to escape or he was a nice—very good looking—man who nursed her back to health and could kiss the hell out of her.
One or the other. Not both. Her hand reached for the doorknob.
Wait. He couldn’t be both, right? Emma snatched her hand back, holding in a groan. God, this sucked. Jenny would know what to do. Of course she’d tell Emma to get the hell out of there. And that would be the sane response.
But she already made her decision in the other room. The knob felt cool against her palm. The medication had to be finished. If Cade or anyone else in this house made her feel unsafe she’d escape.
She twisted the knob and pushed the door. When it was wide enough she stuck her head inside. “Holy shit.” Emma tore into the room. “My things.”
The curtains were pulled back from a large window and the sun shone on her easel like a spot light. It was hers. She recognized the familiar paint splatters covering the wood. Next to it, sitting on a table were her art supplies. The ones she always left out in her front room. And her paints, drawing pads, pencils, and canvases.
A duffle bag she also recognized was on the floor near one of the large, wide sofa chairs. Clothes. Her clothes. Pants. Shirts. Socks. Shoes. Bathing suit. Panties.
Creepy. Rational side said. He went through your drawers.
Emma paused.
Irrational side peered into the bag. Fresh panties you didn’t have to wash in a sink. Clothes that actually fit you. Niiice.
“I’m siding with Irrational on this one,” Emma mumbled.
She set the bag down, her eyes falling on the easel. One picture then she’d change her clothes. Setting a canvas on the stained wood, she opened her paint jars.
Cade walked down the hall, heart drumming. He hadn’t planned on packing her art supplies. But he’d seen her bedroom wall and was unable to resist. At first it resembled wallpaper until closer inspection revealed the truth. They weren’t just trees on a wall. He’d wanted to step into the lush forest. Walk barefoot across the grass. Find out what was on the other side of the trees. Search for the light peeking between the trunks. Cade could almost feel the leaves’ coolness, the trees’ shelter from the weather, and the canopy of protection the branches offered. This is where she hid when life overwhelmed. He’d never felt so much just looking at a picture.
Stress left his body as Cade neared her door. What caused this reaction? Her rain-coated scent? The beat of her heart? Dark, honey-colored eyes on him, scrutinizing, aware? He was at home near her. A place he hadn’t known existed since the change. Soft, quick scratching sounds filled his ear. Cade smiled and turned the handle.
Emma sat in one of the large cushioned chairs, her legs curled under, a pad of paper on her lap and a pencil in han
d. Her hand darted across the page. So engrossed she hadn’t realized he entered.
Chapter 9
“Why haven’t you eaten?”
Emma jolted. Her pencil fell out of her hand and rolled across her drawing pad and onto the floor. “Cade!”
He stood near her easel. She jumped up and threw her arms around him. “Thank you so much for my things.” After a pause his arms encircled her.
Warmth flooded her cheeks. Waaay too exuberant, Emma. But there was no way to contain the utter joy coursing through her. Emma hadn’t realized how much she missed and relied on her art until that first step away from the easel. Gazing at her work, she was finally at peace with the current situation. It was better than talking to a shrink. Emma stepped out of his arms, turning to set her pad on the chair and pick up her pencil.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.
She smiled. “It was quite a surpr—”
“Why didn’t you eat the food Martha brought you?”
Emma blinked. Cade wasn’t exactly yelling, but his tone wasn’t just asking about the weather either. His question when he entered the door filtered back to her. “I did.” She looked over to the tray by her easel.
He gave that tray a quick glance. “Breakfast food, was it not?” His outstretched finger pointed to the untouched tray.
“Oh.” Her brows furrowed. “I don’t remember Martha bringing that.” Emma shrugged. “Happens a lot when I . . .” she trailed off, staring at him. What was going on here?
“You’re supposed to be resting and taking care of yourself. If you can’t do that I’ll have to take your things.”
Hands flew to her hips. “Excuse the hell out of me. Who do you think you are? You can’t threaten to take my toys if I don’t do what you say. I’m not a child, Cade.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t act like one. An adult shouldn’t have to be reminded to eat.”
She tilted her head in order to meet his gaze. They were standing inches apart now. Emma poked at his chest with her finger.
“Don’t compare me to a child you overbearing asshole! I haven’t been a child since I left middle school and I don’t need you or anyone else looking after me.” She punctuated every word with a jab of her finger. “I let you carry on this charade of keeping me here while I got better, but you know what? Not anymore. You’ll take me home. Today.” Emma stormed to her supplies. With jerky movements she grabbed bottles and, using all of her restraint, set them gently in the box. What a jerk. Who did he think he was?
She’d finished packing her supplies from the table and moved to the chair to gather her pad and pencil. Cade stepped in front of her. Emma scowled and moved to go around. He stepped to the left, blocking her. Her mouth opened, but he spoke quickly.
“I’m sorry,” he said solemnly. “You’re right. I wasn’t treating you fairly. I saw the still full tray of food, the shadows under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, and grew concerned you were going to fall ill again. Please forgive me.”
Emma blew out a breath. Her angered melt into understanding then compassion. “You watched your wife and children die of sickness.” She should’ve realized where his anger was coming from.
Cade blinked.
“Time disappears when I’m painting or drawing. I often end up skipping meals. I’ll try to be more aware. I know I’m still recovering.” She walked over to the full tray and broke off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouth
He stilled for a moment, eyes on her mouth. Cade cleared his throat. “Truce?”
Emma smiled. “Yes.”
Heavens, she was a vision standing in the light of the lamp. Cade’s gaze traveled from her mouth down her body and geared to a stop at the oversized shirt and sweatpants she still wore. “Did I not pick the right clothes?”
Emma laughed and his shaft twitched.
“No. I didn’t have time to change. It’ll be nice to wear my own clothes.” She went over to the bag and began to rummage through it. Emma paused, lifting her head. “I wanted to take a shower.”
She asked for permission. How he wished things could be different, but it didn’t change reality.
“You take a shower and I’ll prepare us some dinner,” he said.
Her eyes crinkled in the corners with her smile. Breathtaking. Cade found himself walking forward, his gaze on her mouth.
“I want to kiss you again, Emma.”
She came to her feet slowly with flushed cheeks, but not from a fever. Her heart thrummed in her chest like a bird’s wings. Emma swallowed thickly. He moved his gaze to her eyes, big and round.
“Will you let me?”
Her face lifted in consent.
Cade cupped her warm cheeks and brushed her lips. Once. Twice. Then licked her bottom lip seeking entrance. His sweet, strong Emma obliged. He deepened the kiss, letting his tongue glide along hers in soft, smooth strokes.
Emma moaned and her arms circled his neck drawing him closer as she stood on tiptoe. There was no space in between their bodies and his shaft, hard after the initial taste of her lips, was nestled in between her legs. Her breasts pushed against his chest. Cade could feel her hardened nipples underneath her thin T-shirt. He groaned.
Moving his mouth to her neck, he followed the addictive thump of blood pulsing through veins. His fangs ached to let down, to sink deep into her tender, rain-drenched scented flesh. It took all of his strength to hold them back and he’d stilled from the force of the fight not to drink from her. This wasn’t like last time.
“Cade?” Her voice was tentative, questioning.
Emma peered up at him, searching his face.
“I’m sorry.” Cade stepped back, out of her arms.
He watched hurt flash across her face before she dropped her gaze and reached for her bag on the floor.
“No problem.” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to take that shower now.”
He opened his mouth then closed it. How could he make her understand he wasn’t rejecting her? Only trying to keep her alive.
“Emma.”
She turned, face devoid of any emotion.
“I want to be with you. I do. But I can’t. And I wish I could explain why.”
She processed this for a moment than her eyes narrowed. “Are you married?” Her voice was high, appalled.
“No. I told you my wife died.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No one is in my life.” Except you.
Her gaze begged him to explain. When he remained silent, resignation flashed. “No matter. It’s not a big deal.”
Cade growled and in one sweep she was in his arms.
“What are you doing?”
Opening the door, he walked the two paces to her bedroom. Inside he closed that door and turned the lock.
“Cade. Put me down.”
“Not until I prove my desire for you.” He threw her on the bed. She bounced once before trying to sit. Cade pushed her down, falling on top of her, using his arms to hold his weight.
“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.
Her words told him to stop but the re-quickening of her heart and the sudden intense fragrance of rain showers screamed for him to continue. “I want to pleasure you.”
“Not like this,” she pleaded. Emma put her hands on his chest, pushed halfheartedly. Her fingers moved over his pectorals finding his hardened nipples through his shirt.
Cade closed his eyes and bit back a groan.
She stilled. He opened his eyes to find her gaze on him. The golden brown irises were darkened with arousal. Her cheeks were filled with color. Breath moved in time with her fast heartbeat.
Cade brushed his lips along her hairline. “I want to give you pleasure.” He kissed her cheeks. “My sweet chemda.” Caressed
her mouth with his lips. The gentlest of touches. Licked the crease her mouth created.
She opened for him. Hands fisted into his shirt as she met his tongue stroke for stroke.
He ran his tongue over her top lip, dipped inside for a sweep. Emma moaned.
His hands trailed down. The soft warm skin of her cheeks. Swiftly bypassing her delicate neck that with every pump of her vein reminded him she was a fragile Follower. He would remain in control. Her breasts. Cade paused, finding her harden nipples and running his thumb across the pebbled nub over and over until Emma’s moans evolved into frantic pleas. Pulling at her shirt, he ran his hands underneath. Stroked the bare skin of her breasts with his fingertips. Skimmed his palm over her nipples.
Emma shivered, eyes closed.
Cade pushed her shirt up underneath her chin and stilled. “You absolutely take my breath away.”
Her lips curved into a smile. Heavens, she resembled one of the Creator’s angels.
He sank onto her mouth. Reverently worshipped her lips with the knowledge he’d been given a gift straight from the heavens. No moment would be taken for granted. She weaved her fingers through the strands of his hair, roamed her hands over his face.
Emotions he couldn’t name shifted inside of him with her touch. Cade closed his eyes, forcing himself to keep it together when all inside of him wanted to shatter into tiny pieces. Crack the hardness he’d developed. Crush the determination to right wrongs. Destroy the fanatic need to keep his distance.
He exhaled shakily. Emma cradled his face with her hands. Her thumb ran over the ridges near his eye. She kissed him as though he was her most precious gift. Her heated center pressed against his shaft. Her arms circled his waist and she pushed herself as close as possible.
“Too many clothes,” Emma murmured in between kisses. She lifted his shirt running her hands over his chest, stomach. His bare torso pressed against hers and she shivered.
