Maya shrugged. “Small talk. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“There’s left-over cassoulet in the kitchen. Are you sure you don’t want to try some? You’ve got to eat.”
“Why do you care if I eat or not?”
“Let’s just say I know what a terrible cook Joss is. What did he feed you? Pizza?”
“His food wasn’t bad.”
At her defensive tone, Maya smiled. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. Joss told me you’re not eating. He’s worried. You need carbs today to counteract the side effect of the drug he gave you. If you prefer, I can cook you some pasta.” She grinned. “I’d really like to get Joss off my ass.”
“I can’t eat right now.” She added sarcastically, “Thank you anyway.”
Maya sighed. “Is there anything else you need?”
“I want to know that my animals are taken care of.”
“I gave you my word, and I never break my promises.” Maya got up. “I’ll leave you to it. Rest if you want.” She looked up at the ceiling as if contemplating the weather. An engine started up. The floor vibrated as the yacht kicked into action.
“You’re free to move around as long as the boat is in motion. If you jump while the engines are running, you’ll be pulled underneath the keel and mauled to mince by the blades. She’s a powerful vessel. At full speed we’ll be traveling at twenty-four knots.
“If the boat’s not moving, you have to stay in the cabin or in the lounge. One of us will be around to make sure you follow the rules. Lucky for you, that’s the only rule.” She got up and walked to the door. “Call me if you need anything, otherwise I’ll come back in an hour.” She shut the door with a soft click.
Clelia strained her ears, but no key turned in the lock. She contemplated her situation. She should explore the deck and look for opportunities of escape. These people scared her. Cain, especially, put her on edge. Standing in front of him, it had felt as if he could see right through her.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Before she could reply, it opened. Joss stood on the threshold. His tall, broad frame made the cabin seem smaller.
“At least knocking is an improvement,” she said. “Next time, try waiting for an answer.”
“Do you get seasick?” he asked, closing the door.
“Honestly, Joss.” She rolled her eyes. “I grew up in a boat.”
“So did I.”
“And you get sick?”
He grimaced. “Every time.”
“You don’t look green.”
“I take pills.”
She nodded, her words dried up.
He sat down next to her. “Erwan will come.”
“Unless he’s a magician, which he isn’t, he has no way of knowing where to look for me.”
“He’ll know. I’ve planted discreet messages with his loyal friends around town.”
Clelia frowned. “What if he doesn’t?”
A look passed in his eyes.
“You can’t keep me indefinitely,” she said. “At some stage, you to have to let me go or…”
His steel-gray eyes darkened a shade. “Is that what you want to believe? That I’d kill you?”
She looked away. His hand fell on her shoulder, startling her.
“Do I still frighten you?” he asked.
The touch was far from frightening. It was a memory etched into her DNA. It was a need that, if she allowed it, would blossom and grow into something huge, something insatiable and incurable.
He gripped her chin and turned her face back to him. “Time isn’t on our side. You have to help me keep you safe.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” she asked, licking her dry lips.
“Help me to find Erwan.”
“Help you to arrest him, you mean. I can’t do that.”
He trailed his fingers along her jaw. “I’m not asking you to betray him. I’m asking you to help me find the truth.”
The gentle caress was disarming, but she kept her face stoic. “I don’t believe you. You’re hiding something.”
“I said I’d get you out of this. Don’t you trust me?”
“How can I? I’m your prisoner. I don’t trust the people you work with. You can’t guarantee they won’t harm Erwan.”
Working his jaw from side to side, he only stared at her.
Yeah, she didn’t think so. “This is bigger than just the fires or finding a criminal.”
“You have no idea.” Wiping a thumb over her bruised lip, he dragged it down her neck. His gaze shifted to the marks he’d left. “Does it hurt?”
Sparks ignited under her skin. “No.” Her throat moved against his thumb as she swallowed.
He locked his hand around her neck and pressed closer, making her lean backward. “I didn’t mean to.” His voice dropped. “You know why it happened.”
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed.
He kept going until his weight pushed her down on the mattress. “I want the truth. You’re hiding something.”
The hardness growing against her thigh was unmistakable, another truth with dire consequences, one that would destroy them if they didn’t stump out the embers before they had time to burn. Still, sparks of lust crackled in her stomach. Her breath caught.
“That little gasp is a truth in itself.” He rotated his hips, pinning her down not only with his body but also with the hand he kept clamped around her neck. “Feel what you do to me?”
“This is a bad idea,” she said through dry lips.
He dragged his hand down the column of her neck and traced the outline of her collarbone. “The truth, Cle.”
“What truth?” she croaked.
Trailing a finger over the upper curve of her breast, he drew a slow line to her nipple. Satisfaction bled into his gaze when he found the tip hard. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Her skin burned where he’d touched it. Desire and longing mixed together, a powerful cocktail of emotional and physical need. They had to stop. She couldn’t fall harder for him than she already had. He was still her enemy. Erwan’s enemy.
She pushed on his shoulders. “Joss, get off.”
He brushed a palm over her breast to her stomach, an unhurried path of exploration. “I told you what you wanted to know.” His jaw set into a determined line. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Tell you what?” she asked, already breathless.
“What I do to you. If it’s the same.”
“I’m not telling you anything.” She pushed harder, but he didn’t budge. “You can’t do this.” He couldn’t force her to confess her feelings. Her body was already betraying her, but he wanted her to say it, to admit she still wanted him. Her pride wouldn’t let her. It was all she had left.
“Can’t I?” he asked with a challenging smile.
Fire coursed through her veins when he dipped his hand lower, and when he cupped her sex her body combusted. She bit her lip to prevent herself from moaning.
“I can shove my hand into your panties and find out for myself or you can just tell me.” He curled his fingers. It was the gentlest squeeze, but it made her gasp. “I know this body, even if I can’t remember. I can’t wait to get reacquainted with every inch of your skin.”
She moaned as he aligned his hard-on with her clit through their clothes and rotated his hips. It was impossible to think.
“Those sweet sounds make me think you want me,” he taunted.
“Joss—”
He caught the protest before she could utter it, swallowing her denial with a kiss. Her lips parted for his tongue as her legs parted for the hips he thrust between her thighs. Like a flower opens up to the sun, she let him inside her heart, not Joss the boy, but Joss the man. If it hadn’t been for their clothes, she would’ve let him inside her body too.
Taking the lead, he shaped her lips with his kiss and set the pace of their hips. It was easy to follow. Wrapping her legs around him, she showed him what he’d demanded to know.
At her surrender, a growl escaped from deep in his chest. Pulling her thigh higher over his ass, he gripped her hair and held her to him as if he were afraid she’d escape.
Moans filled the air. The erotic sounds drowned out the noise of the engine until nothing existed but Joss. The rocking of their bodies drove a tide in her, a wave that was about to fold in on itself and crush in a chaos of mauling water and foam.
She gripped his shoulders, regretting the fabric that prevented her from feeling his skin. She wanted nothing between them. When she arched her back, he cursed. He kissed a path to the hollow of her throat. She offered her neck. If he asked, she’d give him her blood. Tightening his grip in her hair, he brushed a thumb over the seam of her shorts. He didn’t break the kiss as he traced her folds through the fabric.
The pressure built, pleasure tightening her body. When he pressed the pad of his thumb on her clit, she nearly came apart. With deft fingers, he massaged in circles, finally pushing her over the edge.
Spots dotted her vision. Heat singed her skin as an orgasm contracted her muscles. He’d conquered and wrecked her body with nothing but the pad of his thumb. Aftershocks prolonged the pleasure. Arching her back, she rubbed against him to relieve the ache, to make it stop.
“Yes,” he said, his voice warm with praise as he finally let up and folded his arms around her.
How could she feel like this without shedding a piece of clothing?
“Fuck, Cle.” He raked his teeth down her neck and bit down softly on the hickey he’d left.
She was panting, deliciously satisfied and dissatisfied simultaneously, feeling sated but empty.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t even take off your clothes. Imagine what I’d do to you when you’re naked.”
A shiver ran over her as she imagined exactly that.
Lifting up on his arms, he cupped her face. The silver of his eyes swirled with emotions—guilt, need, and conflict. Regret.
“Don’t you dare,” she said, the heat vanishing from her body and leaving her skin cold.
He rolled away from her and sat up with his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlaced behind his head. “I shouldn’t have taken it that far.”
She blinked at his back. He was right. Then why did the rejection feel like a shard of glass in her heart?
He dragged his hands over his head. “I need to catch this pyromancist.” Glancing sideways at her, he asked, “Do you understand?”
They were enemies. They could never be anything else.
“There’s no future for us,” she said, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees.
His expression became pained. It was the same tormented look he wore so well when he was younger. “It’ll be so easy to break you.”
Was that what he thought, how he saw her? Weak? She pushed off the bed. “Go to hell.” Pointing at the door, she said, “Get out.”
He got to his feet. “I’m already in hell.”
She watched his back as he moved to the door, her whole body shaking. She wanted to both call him back and kick him out. Her heart wanted to beg him to stay while her mind said it was better this way. When he opened the door, she almost faltered.
“Maybe Cain was right,” he said, pausing in the frame with his back to her. “You best call Maya if you need anything.” He left and shut the door with a bang.
“I do need something,” Clelia whispered to the closed door, “but I can’t have it.” Neither her freedom, nor his love.
Chapter 15
For all of ten seconds, Clelia stood frozen on the spot, staring at the door through which Joss had vanished. When a knock fell, she couldn’t help the pang of joy or the irrational hope that surfaced through logical reason and wrongs.
Yanking the door open, she said, “Joss, I—” and then swallowed the rest of her words.
Maya stood on the threshold. “I saw Joss leave in a bit of a rage. Is everything all right?”
Her grip tightened on the door handle. “What do you care?”
“Listen, I’m trying.”
“Trying what?”
“Never mind. Cain wants to see you.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Let’s go.” Maya turned and made her way to the stairs.
Knowing it was futile to resist, Clelia followed Maya to the upper deck. Bono leaned on the rail, staring at the islands they passed. As they rounded the starboard, Clelia’s foot hooked in a coil of rope. She stumbled.
Just as Bono jumped forward, grabbing her arms to steady her, Joss manifested as if from thin air, all but growling as he took in the scene.
Bono smiled, the gesture warm and genuine. “Careful. The deck is slippery.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Joss took a wide stance. “Get your hands off her.”
His voice laced with surprise, Bono said, “What’s that, Joss?”
“I said, get your fucking hands off her.”
Clelia gaped at Joss. He acted as if Bono was going to attack her.
Bono lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was only helping.”
“She doesn’t need your help.”
Maya grinned. “I’d love to watch you two puppies fight over a bone, but Cain is waiting.”
Joss grudgingly stepped aside. “Watch it, Bono. Keep your hands to yourself.”
When the women walked past, Bono asked Maya under his breath, “What the hell?”
Maya chuckled. “Joss is territorial.”
Bono dragged a hand over his head. “You don’t say.”
Clelia peered over her shoulder at Joss, but he didn’t look at her as Maya escorted her into the lounge. Joss was complex, but his behavior was ludicrous. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend.
Cain stood up from the sofa when they entered. He offered Clelia a chair, but when she declined, he remained standing.
He waited until Maya had gone before he asked, “Has Joss been treating you well?”
“Yes.”
Cain’s gaze slipped to her neck. “You have no complaints about being his prisoner?”
She fought the urge to cover the marks with a hand. “I’m your prisoner, not his.”
“Ah,” he said with a pensive air. “I suppose it depends on how you look at it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think you’ve been Joss’s prisoner for a very long time. Am I right?”
The blood dropped to her feet under his watchful eyes.
“I see I am,” he said. “You must’ve sensed this return. Did it come to you in the form of a dream? A vision? A sensation maybe?”
Shocked that he could know, she didn’t answer.
“You have reason to mistrust me. The question is, do you trust Joss?”
“Do I trust him to do what?”
“What’s right.”
“What is that?”
“There’s only one right and one wrong in the world. I don’t deal in shades of gray.”
“You’re talking in circles.”
“Joss took an oath when he was appointed as leader of this task force. He promised to protect the force and the good it stands for. Joss is a tormented soul. You mean more to him than what he gives on, but if you are going to turn dark, it will force Joss to make an impossible choice.”
She rubbed her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Remember my words when the time comes. When there’s no way out, set Joss free. If you love him, you won’t make him choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Between you and what he protects.”
“Between me and good?”
“If you prefer to put it like that.”
“That makes me bad?”
“I don’t know. The change has only just started. At this point in time, not even you can know how you will turn.”
“You think I’m capable of evil?” The insult burned in her chest even as doubt flourished right next to it.
“No one kno
ws what they’re capable of until they’re subjected to certain circumstances.” Without giving her a chance to reply, he picked up a document from the table and handed it to her.
She took it reluctantly. “What’s this?”
“The psychological evaluation we did on Joss when I decided to make him a part of my team.”
She frowned. “Why are you showing me this?”
“Read it.”
She skimmed over the text.
In conclusion, the test results point to a highly sensitive man who is by the same token perceptive, intuitive, and particularly emotional. He successfully manages to keep his volatile emotions under control to the point of appearing calm and reserved. Nevertheless, he is characterized by a certain dualism, between sociability, and altruism.
She looked up. “I already know all of this.”
“Read on,” he urged.
He is eccentric … a curious mix of independence and dependence … rejects accepted truths. Inclined to be introverted, he is shy and vulnerable, we are guessing due to childhood trauma.
“What point are you trying to make?” she asked.
“That passion could lead someone with Joss’s disposition, without prior warning, onto a road of fanaticism.” He waited for the meaning of his words to sink in. “I want you to know who you’re dealing with.” His voice softened. “Who you’re falling in love with. If you start loving him, you can’t stop. You can’t reverse your decision once you get to know him, and I mean really know him. It’ll destroy him.”
“Are you telling me to love him or leave him?”
“I’m asking you to love him enough to eliminate yourself, or to let us do it, if you turn dark.”
Clelia opened her mouth, but Joss entered the lounge, his hair flying in the wind that blew through the door. For a minute, the earth stopped moving as she locked eyes with him.
“Clelia, may I please have a moment with Joss?” Cain asked.
It was phrased as a question, but it was an order.
She walked to the door. As she passed Joss, he lifted his fingers and let them brush over her hand. It was a whisper of a touch, an almost undetectable movement of his hand unnoticeable to the unwatchful eye, but in Clelia’s world, it was powerful enough to change the direction of currents. Electricity flowed between them, setting fireworks off in her stomach. A fluttering echo of her earlier orgasm tightened her lower body.
Pyromancist SECOND EDITION: Art of Fire (7 Forbidden Arts Book 1) Page 15
