by Maya Banks
A fresh stab of pain soared through, taking her breath with it. She closed her eyes against the single truth that prevented her from having the man she loved. He belonged to someone else.
“Bella?”
His voice had changed, softened, and it reflected uncertainty. She pried open her eyes to see him regarding her with concern.
“Are you all right? Did something happen?” he demanded. “Did someone hurt you or threaten you?”
She shook her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. For a moment she could immerse herself in the fantasy that she did belong to him, that he cared about her in a deeper capacity than as a guardian, someone tasked to see to her welfare.
But it was a lie. It was all a lie.
“Then why?” he muttered.
The elevator opened, and with a shake of his head, he strode off and down to her room. Neither of them had a key, but then he didn’t waste time trying to find one. He simply kicked loudly, instead of putting her down to knock. But who would open it? No one was there.
To her eternal surprise, and there had been many tonight, the door opened and a man who had security detail written all over him opened the door to admit Theron.
The surprises didn’t end there. As soon as Theron walked in, a cry sounded from across the room.
“Bella! Are you all right?”
Isabella yanked her head left to see Sadie running across the room. Finally Theron let her down, and Sadie threw her arms around her.
“What are you doing here?” Isabella whispered. “Your party, Sadie. You weren’t supposed to miss your party.”
Sadie flushed guiltily. “The party doesn’t matter. I should have never let you do this for me, Bella.”
“In this we agree,” Theron said stiffly. “It was irresponsible and dangerous. It’s not a place that either of you should ever go into.”
“But you missed your chance,” Isabella said softly, ignoring Theron’s outburst.
Sadie smiled sadly. “There’ll be others. Besides, it wasn’t worth the risk you took. I’m sorry.”
“What happened?” Isabella asked in confusion. “Why are you still here and,” she said, turning to face Theron, “how did he know where to find me?”
“Your security detail phoned me, as they should have,” Theron said darkly.
Isabella turned back to Sadie. “How did they know?”
Sadie looked down and sighed. “When I left your room for the party, one of your guys immediately stopped me. They’d obviously seen you, posing as me, leave earlier and as we planned, never assumed it was you. However, they knew the real me hadn’t entered your room, so they were suspicious. I had to tell them everything,” she said uncomfortably. “They made me remain here while they went to get you.” She glanced angrily at the man who was still standing by the door. “I had to endure a lecture from him the entire time you were gone.”
“It’s good that someone tried to talk sense into you,” Theron bit out. He nodded toward the security man. “See that she gets home safely, and remain on watch to see that she doesn’t go back to that club.”
“But I work there!” Sadie exclaimed.
“Not any longer,” Theron said with a growl. “I won’t have Bella traipsing through some strip club because her friend works there.”
“But—” Sadie sputtered even as she was escorted away by the security detail.
When the door closed behind them, Theron turned to glare at Isabella. He stepped forward, and she stepped back uneasily. His scowl became more ferocious as he reached to detain her.
“Now, Bella, I’ll deal with you,” he said in a soft, dangerous voice.
Theron’s hands curled around her shoulders as he yanked Isabella to him. The coat she’d held so tightly around her fell to the floor, and her breasts thrust obscenely into his chest.
She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. If she did, he’d know. He’d immediately see everything she now wanted to hide. Things he hadn’t been able to see before.
“Go get cleaned up,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’ll wait for you here.”
Only too grateful to flee, she turned and headed for the bathroom. She grimaced when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Tawdry was a word that came to mind. Garish.
Sad.
She washed the heavy makeup from her face and tore the wig from her head. Then she unpinned her own hair and ran her fingers through it to tame it. A long, hot bath was extremely tempting, but not when Theron waited outside, likely growing more impatient by the moment.
She stripped out of the boots and clothes, tossing them aside. Then she realized she hadn’t brought in something to change into. With a shrug, she made a grab for the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and wrapped it securely around her.
Then she padded back out to the sitting room in bare feet, hands thrust into the pockets of the robe. Theron waited, standing by the window that overlooked the avenue below.
When he heard her, he turned, his eyes still flashing with unsettled intensity.
“Why are you here, Theron?” she asked, finally regaining her composure.
He closed the distance between them, once again curling his fingers over her shoulders. “You dare to ask that as if I have no right? As if you didn’t just do something incredibly stupid? Do you have any idea what I thought when I heard where you’d gone? The fear I felt? Or the shock upon seeing you on that stage, half naked for all those men to leer at? Tell me, Bella, what would you have done if someone other than me had rushed that stage? What if he had put his hands on you? Forced you to go with him?”
She blinked at his ferocity and the absolute anger tightening his features. Any number of explanations circled her frazzled mind, but she didn’t think he’d be interested in any of them. So she kept quiet.
Theron ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration before locking gazes with her once more.
“Did Marcus know you were doing this?”
Isabella bobbed her head backward in surprise. “Marcus? Why would he need to know anything I was doing?”
“I would hope he was more protective of what was his—or what he had staked claim on anyway,” Theron growled.
She blinked in confusion. “You’re not making any sense. Marcus has nothing to do with anything. He’s a friend. I don’t feel the need to apprise him of my comings and goings.”
Theron snorted. “A friend? Is that what they’re calling them these days?” he asked, throwing her mocking words about kissing back at her.
“What are you insinuating, Theron?” she asked as she folded her arms over her chest.
“I was here, Bella. Last night. I came up...to see about you,” he added uncomfortably.
“So?”
“And Marcus answered your door in only a bathrobe,” he snapped.
Isabella’s mouth fell open. “And from this, you assume I’m sleeping with him?”
“Are you saying you did not?” Theron challenged.
“I’m saying it’s none of your damn business,” she huffed.
A long silence fell between them as they stared at one another. Oh, she would have loved to have told him yes, that she’d slept with Marcus, but really, what was the point? He was engaged to Alannis, and she had no desire to make herself look promiscuous. He did still have control over her inheritance until she married someone else.
“I didn’t sleep with him,” she said tightly. “We were caught in the rain and he came up so that dry clothing could be brought to him. He changed into a robe, and I stayed in the tub until he was dressed. We ate room service and then he left.”
There was a flicker of relief in Theron’s eyes. Why? What could it possibly matter to him? And then he shook his head.
“Why do you insist on driving me utterl
y crazy?” he murmured. “Is it not enough that I spend my time thinking of you? Remembering the feel of your mouth beneath mine?”
He moved in closer, his breath hot against her face. Unconsciously, she licked her lips nervously as he moved and tilted his head in a dance around her mouth.
“You shouldn’t...kiss me,” she whispered.
“You’ve never had an objection before,” he muttered just before his mouth closed hot over hers.
Chapter 14
Isabella’s knees wobbled, and she clutched frantically at Theron’s shoulders to keep from sliding down his body. He caught her tightly against him as his lips plundered hers.
This kiss...was different. She moaned softly, a sound of surrender? Honestly, she didn’t care. Maybe it was a sound of need. Or want.
He took her. There was no other word for it. He took possession of her mouth as if he owned it, as if he had exclusive rights to her mouth and refused to share it. Ever.
Her body melted against his, and she loved the hardness of his chest, his thighs, shivered as his hands roamed up her body to her neck. He cupped her nape, holding her so that she couldn’t escape him. As if she wanted to.
She was a willing captive. This...this was what she’d dreamed about. Fantasized. Wanted so much. So desperately.
“I want to make love to you, Bella,” he said with breathless urgency, his lips barely separating from hers. “I’ve fought it. Theos, but I’ve fought, but if I don’t have you, I’m going to go mad.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want you so much, Theron.”
His hands fumbled with the tie at her robe, his lips never leaving her mouth. It was as though he couldn’t bear to stop kissing her. He devoured her even as he yanked her robe open.
And then his hands pressed against her naked skin, and she moaned and trembled, going completely weak against him.
“Soft, so soft and beautiful. Like silk,” he murmured as his palms caressed her sides, moving up until he cupped her breasts.
Finally, he moved from her mouth, his lips brushing over her jaw and to her ear and then lower, down her neck. He nipped then sucked at the tender skin, eliciting shiver after shiver.
His mouth continued downward, and she caught her breath as he sank to his knees in front of her. He snaked his arms inside her robe and wrapped them around her waist, pulling her downward so that her knees bent.
His mouth was precariously close to her breasts, so much so that his breath beaded and puckered her nipples into tight knots. And then he slid his mouth over one, rolling his tongue gently over the peak.
Her robe fell to the floor at her feet, and she was naked in his arms. He sucked at her breast, his dark head flush against her body. How erotic it looked, this proud, strong man, on his knees, his arms wrapped tight around her—as though he’d never let go.
Before she allowed herself to become too entrenched in that fantasy, he released her nipple, and she groaned her protest.
He glanced up, his eyes glowing in the lamplight. “You’re beautiful, Bella,” he said in a low, husky voice that was passion-laced.
His grip loosened just enough that he could rise to his feet, his shirt scraping along her bare skin. She reached out with her fingers to snag at his buttons, wanting them gone and to feel his bare skin against hers.
But he collected her hands in his and held them tightly together. “Oh, no, Bella mou. This is my seduction. And I intend to seduce you thoroughly.”
He swung her into his arms and walked slowly to the bedroom, his gaze locked with hers. She was afraid to speak. Afraid that he would hastily back away if the spell was broken.
He laid her on the bed then straightened to his full height over her. She felt strangely vulnerable beneath his intense gaze. Shy and a little uncertain.
Her hands crept upward in an attempt to shield herself.
“Do not hide such beauty from me,” he whispered.
Emboldened by the obvious approval in his eyes, she let her hands fall away. Lust flared over his face as his hands went to the buttons of his shirt. Halfway down, he lost patience and ripped the remaining buttons. He shrugged out of the sleeves and then tore impatiently at his pants.
She sucked in her breath and held it when his boxers, with his pants, slipped down and his turgid manhood came into view. Then it stuttered out, a silent staccato in the quiet as he moved closer.
He spread her knees and fit his body to hers, settling between her thighs as he came down onto the bed. Hot, silken and yet rough in a heady, masculine way, his skin clung to hers, burning her, making her move restlessly underneath him.
They kissed again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, prolonging the mating of their tongues. Soft and wet, clinging and dueling, a precursor to the dance their bodies would yet perform.
“I’ve never felt so out of control,” he admitted. “So restless and out of my skin. You make me crazy, Bella. I have to have you.”
“Yes.”
The softly whispered surrender slid from swollen lips. His mouth skated downward to her neck and then over the slope of her shoulder.
He moved, lowering his body so that his lips found her breasts. She stared up at the ceiling, the intricate painting blurring as pleasure overtook her. For several long seconds, he lazily tongued the rigid peaks, and then he blazed a wet trail with his tongue down her midline to her belly.
He toyed with her belly ring for the briefest of seconds before traveling even lower.
She tensed when his mouth found her soft femininity, the very essence and core of her womanhood. Helplessly she arched into him, seeking more of his bold tongue. He chuckled and gave her another soft nuzzle.
“Please, Theron,” she begged. “Take me.”
“I want you to be ready for me, Bella mou,” he said as he trailed one finger over her damp flesh.
“Take me,” she said again as she looked down and met his gaze. “I’m yours.”
Her words seemed to push him beyond his control. He slid up her body, spreading her legs and fitting himself to her in one deft movement. One moment he was probing, the next he slid inside her, breaking through the slight resistance as though it were nothing.
For a moment she went rigid with shock, only a twinge of pain, but more than that a sense of such fullness that it overwhelmed her. Her eyes flew open, and her hands went reflexively to his shoulders to push him away.
Theron stared at her in confusion even as his hips moved, and he thrust forward again. She relaxed beneath him, letting her hands glide over his shoulders and to his neck. Pleasure, sweet and yearning, bloomed, spreading like fire in the wind.
His lips found hers again in a gesture of reassurance, molding sweetly to hers, suddenly gentle and tender.
“Move with me, agape mou,” he urged. “Wrap your legs around me. Yes, that’s it.”
Her skin came alive, crawling and edgy with need. Theron planted his elbows on either side of her head and held his body off her enough that she didn’t bear the full brunt of his weight as he moved between her legs.
Breathing became hard. She panted against his lips as their mouths met again.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
Helpless to do anything but follow the winding pleasure building so earnestly, she cried out as he stiffened above her. He gathered her softly against him, crushing her to his hardness. Murmured words fell against her ears, some she understood, some slipping away.
And then he collapsed, pressing his warm body to hers. For several long seconds, their ragged breathing was the only sound that filled the room.
Then he raised his head to stare down at her. He kissed her lightly then shifted, easing his body from hers. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched lazily from the bed while he strode nude to the bathroom and returned a moment la
ter with a washcloth.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.
She sat up and reached for the cloth, but he held it out of her reach and then brushed it gently over her skin to clean her.
“No, you didn’t hurt me,” she returned quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There was no recrimination, no accusation in his voice.
“I wasn’t entirely certain you’d believe me.”
“And so you let me ravage you when you should have been handled gently? Made love to and cherished?”
There was genuine regret on his face. Not that he’d made love to her, if she had to guess, but for what he considered his rough treatment of her.
She reached out and touched his face, enjoying the feel of the slight stubble on his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me, Theron. It was perfect.”
He dropped the cloth on the floor and then framed her face in his hands. “No, it wasn’t perfect, but I can make it that way.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with a tenderness that made her chest ache. Desire fluttered deep within, awakening and unfolding, reaching out.
He took his time, lavishing kisses and caresses over every inch of her body. He murmured endearments and praise, each one landing in a distant region of her heart that she’d reserved only for him.
She soaked up each touch, each word like parched earth starved for water.
And when he cupped her to him, sliding carefully into her wanting body, she knew she’d never loved him more than she did at this moment. For so long she’d waited to have him like this. Focused on her, seeing her, touching her and loving her as she loved him.
This time he urged her to completion before taking his own, and only when she quivered with the last vestiges of her orgasm did he sink deeply within her and hold himself so tightly that she could feel the tension rippling through his body.
He dropped his forehead to hers, their lips just an inch apart as he dragged in deep breaths. She tilted her chin upward so that her nose brushed against his, and then their lips met in a sweet kiss that she felt to her soul.
