Assassin's Honor

by Monica Burns

  He'd asked her to marry him simply because having a wife capable of reading an antiquity would help him move up the career ladder. It had been all the more painful a revelation because she'd been the one to tell Jonathan about her gift. She'd wanted to be honest with him when it appeared their relationship had taken a serious turn.

  All she'd done was made it easier for him to hurt her. It was unlikely that he would have ever proposed to her if she hadn't given him the perfect reason to do so. The bastard had even tried to tie her father's success to her ability.

  While there had been a modicum of truth in her ex-fiance's words, her father had been a gifted archeologist. Her ability had simply made his work easier to do. She knew her parents had loved her deeply, but Jonathan's words had raised the old feelings of doubt she'd experienced as a kid.

  She sat up and swung her feet off the bed to sit there staring at the oak door. He'd said they'd talk after they'd both cooled off, but there wasn't anything to discuss. She should have stayed in the research library and explored more of the historical riches she knew were there. In the library, there would at least be others around to interrupt them.

  When the Prima Consul had mentioned the blood bond and Ares in the same breath, she'd been alarmed that Atia suspected her relationship with Ares was less than platonic. The idea that her attraction to Ares might be so transparent to the Prima Consul frightened her. One minute the man had her aching for his touch then the next she was ready to kill him.

  Even more disturbing was the realization that she longed for something more from Ares. Something that she couldn't put into words even if she'd dared. But Atia had managed to read her so easily, which meant he might be able to do the same. And she didn't want to give him that much power over her.

  The sound of the rain pulled her to the window and she stared out at the dreary scenery. From here, the mansion only reinforced her impression of a Gothic structure. The massive structure housed more than a hundred Sicari and was a bustling complex. Raindrops rolled down the glass panes in front of her and she sighed. In the past two weeks, there had been, at most, three days of sunshine. The remainder had been gray, damp, and rainy. She missed the sunny heat of Egypt.

  "Are you ready to listen to me now?"

  The sound of his voice scared the hell out of her. With a small scream, she whirled around to face him. She hadn't even heard the bedroom door open. One shoulder pressed into the doorjamb, he studied her with a wariness that surprised her. It seemed odd to see him wearing something other than the black leather pants she was used to seeing him in.

  He'd discarded the standard black quasi-uniform he usually wore for jeans and a navy T-shirt. The sinewy muscles in his arms flexed slightly as he moved, and she watched him shove a hand into his back pocket. The jeans he wore stretched tight over his muscular legs and the memory of undressing him the night of the blood bond sent a wave of heat through her. God, this was insane. The corners of his mouth tilted upward slightly, almost as if he knew the effect he was having on her.

  "I'll listen, but I won't change my mind," she said in response to his question.

  "Emma, what's it going to take for me to get through to you?" He kept his voice just as quiet as hers, but that inflexible determination to get his way was still there. "It's not safe. Why do you have to be so stubborn about this?"

  She studied him for a long moment then turned away and walked over to the bed to sink down onto the mattress. He was the stubborn one. How could she make him understand that she had to go home for more than just her father's note? If he was going to rip her free of her last mooring, the least he could do was give her a chance to say goodbye. She closed her eyes against tears of frustration. She shook her head.

  "I'm not the enemy here, carissima." He crossed the floor to squat in front of her. "All I want to do is protect you."

  "I have to go back," she said softly. "I need to find what my father left for me. And I need to say goodbye."

  "Goodbye?" A frown wrinkled his forehead as he studied her with an assessing gaze.

  "I grew up there. It's my last connection to my parents. I have to say goodbye. You've taken everything else from me--my life, my career, my friends--can't you at least let me say goodbye, even if it's in the dark?"

  His eyes closed as she challenged him. The edge of his jaw was hard with tension as he weighed her words for a long moment. When he looked at her again, indecision darkened his eyes. She knew how much he hated the emotion. It was at that moment that she realized she'd won. It seemed like a hollow victory somehow. He drew in a deep breath and nodded.

  "All right, Emma. You win." He raised his hand as she started to speak. "But you follow my instructions to the letter. No arguments whatsoever. You do as I say, when I say. Understood?"

  "Thank you."

  "I need to have my head examined," he muttered darkly as he stood up and paced the floor. "I knew from the beginning you'd be trouble, and I was right."

  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Indignant, she stood to face him.

  "It means I'm crazy for letting you talk me into agreeing to this." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, his shoulders hunching up then relaxing in a gesture of exasperation.

  "Oh, the head thing I figured out." She placed her hands on her hips as she narrowed her gaze at him. "I'm talking about the trouble part."

  He studied her long and hard for a moment. There was something about the intensity of his gaze that stole her breath from her. Something dark and sensual crossed his face, while a storm brewed in his dark, mysterious blue eyes. He slowly closed the distance between them. With only inches between them, she knew she should run like hell, but she didn't. The man mesmerized her. His fingertips lightly stroked her cheek.

  "You're trouble of the worst kind, carissima. Smart, brave, a good sense of humor, compassionate, beautiful, and incredibly sexy. Life was complicated enough before you came along. I knew getting involved with you would cloud my judgment, but it's too late. I can't stay away from you."

  The husky sound of his voice made her heart skip a beat and then another. Naked desire crossed his face and it sent her senses reeling. It threatened to drown her in a sensually wicked heat. No. She couldn't do this. She couldn't just forget the fact that he'd brought her here under false or near false pretenses.

  "Stop it, okay," she said in a low voice. "Just stop."

  "What do you want me to stop, dolce mia? Stop craving you? Stop dreaming about touching you?" His words were a gentle caress on her senses. "I've tried, carissima. I've tried hard to forget how you feel against my body. I've tried to forget because I know being with you is the worst thing that could happen to both of us. There are things I need to tell you, and yet every time I get near you, I lose my head. You slide into my senses until I can't think straight."

  She drew in a deep breath. Oh God, if she were a piece of ice, she'd be completely melted by now. Definitely time to leave. With as much aplomb as possible, she turned away from him and headed toward the door. The sooner she got out of this cottage, the safer she and her heart would be.

  "Look, let's just say we had some hot sex and let it go at that. Okay? There's no need to repeat it." She casually tossed the words over her shoulder as she headed for the exit. Almost to the door, she flinched as a hard, sinewy arm snapped down in front of her to block her way out of the bedroom.

  "If I want hot sex as you call it, I know women who can give me that and they understand it's just that--sex," he ground out in a fierce tone. " You are not one of those women, carissima."

  There was a primal note of possession in his voice, and it made her heart slam into her chest as she absorbed his words. The tension in him was easy to see by the way his hand gripped the doorjamb. It was a beautiful hand, strong and masculine. She slowly ran her gaze over the length of his muscular arm. An arm that had held her close on a number of occasions. And every one of those times, she'd enjoyed it far more than she should have. She turned her head to look up at him. Th
e hunger she saw on his face sent her pulse racing, but she was reluctant to give in to the need slowly spiraling its way through her.

  "What are you saying?" she asked in a breathless voice.

  "I'm saying you're special, cara. It will never be just sex with you."

  The desire on his face was enough to weaken her legs, but there was something else in his expression that tugged at her heart. The darkness of the emotion said his confession had come at a price to him. She didn't know what that cost was, but she was certain he believed he'd have to pay it. His hand cupped her chin and his thumb rubbed across her bottom lip in a light caress. She trembled at the emotions cresting like a wave inside her. God, what was she getting herself into? He was right--it wasn't just sex between them.

  His mouth slid over hers in a teasing kiss. It undid her completely, her knees barely capable of holding her upright. Damn. Double damn. All the man had to do was touch her and she was ready to follow wherever he led. She clutched at his shirt and kissed him back.

  The taste of him engulfed her senses with a silent roar that sent heat skimming through her body. The man had far too much power over her, but she didn't know how to counteract the effect he had on her senses. Her mouth parted beneath his as he deepened the kiss, and in a slow, teasing swirl, his tongue mated with hers. It was a dance of slow seduction that obliterated everything but him and his touch. When he lifted his head, she fought to clear the cobwebs from her mind as her gaze met his.

  "Do you understand, mio dolce?" he asked quietly. "There's a hell of a lot more between us than just sex."

  The tension in his muscular frame flowed through hers until her body was taut with an emotion she couldn't describe. The cut on her hand tingled, and she remembered Atia's warning about intimacy. The warning had come too late. She was in way over her head with this man. Something about him pulled at her. Kept her off balance. And this blood bond he'd made with her connected them in a way that was as intimate as when he made love to her.

  "I do understand, and that's what terrifies me," she whispered. "We barely know each other and yet it feels right to be with you."

  "Is that such a bad thing, carissima?"

  "It is when I'm the only one who feels that way." Her voice cracked as she realized how much she'd revealed with her retort.

  "But you're not the only one, mio dolce."

  He lowered his head and kissed her again. Wrapped tight in his arms, she gave herself up to him without hesitation. It was irrational, but this was where she belonged. It felt right. Here, this moment, it was where she was supposed to be. Warm and silky, his kiss silently commanded her to give up all control. It was easy to do. The man had been in control of her from the first moment they'd met. But in yielding to him, she recognized his need for her.

  It was in the way he held her, the beat of his heart beneath her palm, and the slight shudder that pulsed through him when she slid her hands underneath his shirt to caress his skin. Eager to touch more of him, she pushed the navy T-shirt up over his chest and he broke their kiss long enough to tug the shirt off him. Desire uncoiled inside her as she clung to him.

  The last time he'd held her like this, she had not understood the depth of her need for him. This time she did. She wanted him. But she wanted his heart as well. Her fingers slid along the waistband of his jeans to the metal button. The moment her fingers slipped between denim and skin, he lifted his head.

  A stark hunger etched into his rugged features, he captured her hand and carried it to his mouth to kiss her fingertips. His gaze never leaving her face, he backed away toward the bed and slowly began to undress. Transfixed, she watched with fascination as he removed his clothing. Intense pleasure swept through her, filling her with heat when he stood naked before her. The man was a beautiful male specimen of raw sexuality, powerful muscles, and a commanding presence that sent a thrill racing down her spine.

  Her gaze drifted over the length of him, pausing briefly on his erection before moving on to his long, hard legs then back up to the width and breadth of his shoulders. Desire careened through her. She wanted him. She couldn't remember ever wanting a man this badly before. Quickly removing her shoes and socks, she reached for the bottom of her shirt with her gaze still locked with his. An invisible force gently restrained her, pushing her hands back down to her side.

  "Let me," he rasped.

  The deep growl of his voice sent a white-hot flame streaking through her blood. The sensation coiled its way through her until she ached for a release. Something told her today would hold even more dangerous emotions than she'd experienced the other day. Of its own accord, her top slowly moved its way up over her head and arms until it fluttered to the floor beside her.

  A warm pressure caressed the base of her throat just as if it were his hand. The unseen force moved downward to her lacy-edged bra until the invisible caress cupped her breasts. There was something incredibly arousing about him using his mind to caress her. At that instant, a gentle pressure rubbed over her nipples. It tugged a gasp from her. God, this was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced.

  "Do you like what I'm doing to you, dolce mia?" His voice possessed a dark, dangerous edge to it, leaving her trembling.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  Invisible fingertips lightly, almost reverently, explored the tops of her breasts. First one bra strap slipped off her shoulder and then the other. Her breathing was unsteady and erratic as the warmth of his mental touch slid across her back to undo her bra. As the lingerie fell to the floor, his sharp inhalation made her tremble.

  "Mea Deus," he murmured. The harsh whisper scraped over her skin in a firestorm of sensation. "Do you have any idea how much I want you right now, carissima?"

  Unadulterated need glittered in his dark blue gaze and it made her sway on her feet and release a soft moan. She took a step toward him, but his invisible strength held her in place. Slowly the pressure slid downward to undo her jeans and slide the denim off her hips. When she stepped out of her jeans, he released a low, primitive sound of desire. It set her heart racing as her need for him accelerated. Heat flowed through her, dampening the wispy lace underwear she wore.

  "Ares, please."

  In response to her soft plea, his mental touch slid up her thighs to slowly remove the lace panties. A moment later, his invisible caress explored her intimately. She cried out at the pressure he placed on the sensitive spot between her legs. It sent a wild shudder through her, and in seconds, she'd climaxed beneath his unseen strokes. A soft warm glow washed over her and she opened her eyes to see desire still holding him taut. This time he didn't stop her as she moved toward him.

  The instant she was in his arms, he crushed her in his embrace, his mouth taking hers in a kiss that drove her body into a frenzied pitch of passion. The strength and power of it consumed her like a fire out of control. Deep inside, she recognized another emotion spiraling upward. She resisted it, knowing all too well what it would do to her heart. Instead, she broke their kiss and lowered her head to press her mouth to the pink scar on his chest.

  Beneath her mouth, the rapid beat of his heart crashed against his chest. The tangy taste of him mixed with his spicy male scent and the rasp of his breathing to send her own heart racing with anticipation. She lifted her head and stared into a pair of eyes dark with passion as well as a possessive glint that thrilled her. The unspoken statement said he was claiming her as his. It clutched at her heart. He had said it wasn't just hot sex between them. His expression made her believe it.

  "I want you," she said in a husky voice.

  She didn't know how they landed on the bed together, and she didn't care. The warm, hard weight of his body on top of hers was exhilarating as his mouth began to worship her body in a way his invisible touch couldn't. With each heated kiss against her skin, he explored her every curve. The farther down her body he went, the tighter her muscles contracted with anticipation and need.

  The fevered pitch growing inside her rolled out in a sharp cry as his mo
uth found her sex. She jerked against the intimate caress, her body responding to his touch the way an instrument would to a master musician. Wave after wave of tremors laced through her, and when he pulled away to kiss her inner thigh, she murmured her protest. No man had ever worshiped her so thoroughly or with such skill. Her eyes fluttered open as he slid his body upward along hers to brace himself above her.

  "I want to see your face when you explode over my cock, carissima ," he said in a hoarse voice that echoed with desire and passion. "I want to know you're feeling the same thing I'm feeling."

  With a quick twist of his body, he was on his back taking her with him. Straddled across his hips, she trailed her fingers over the solid length of him, enjoying the look of hunger that swept across his features. Suddenly, pleasing him was paramount.

  He'd taken her to a place she'd never been before, and she wanted to do the same for him. She leaned forward and brushed her mouth across his nipple then gently nipped at it. He rewarded her with a low growl. She liked knowing he found pleasure in her touch. Slowly, she inched her way down his body, just as he had hers.