The Arions wanted her for two reasons. So the Knights couldn’t learn from her, and in hopes she would mate with one of their soldiers. But she was his. Nothing they did could change that. He felt the weight of urgency for so many reasons. To protect Marcella. To help his people.
If only he understood the breeding process more. The Arions didn’t either and they went at it like criminals. They simply kidnapped the women they hoped would give them children, holding them in camps awaiting their perfect match.
But right now, Marcella was his concern. The Black Knights hoped Marcella could help them learn to harness the mental capabilities gifted to them. His people needed her.
The Arions wanted her.
She belonged to him.
* * * * *
Marcella.
Her name was like a whisper in her head, barely breaking the depth of her sleep. Yet it was there, sliding into her mind.
Marcella.
Her lids opened instantly. She blinked, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, allowing her to focus.
Marcella.
Sitting up, hands beside her, she searched the room. For him. Knowing it was Diego. She found him sitting in the corner chair. Shadows darkened his features, making his eyes impossible to see. But she felt his stare, burning her with its heat. A shudder raced down her spine, but not from fear. It was anticipation.
He pushed to his feet and stepped forward, out of the shadows. Naked and aroused, he was nothing shy of perfection. For some elusive reason, his lack of clothes didn’t seem strange. It felt right. With each step he took, her stomach fluttered and her body heated. Almost as if a tiny ball of fire was turning faster and faster.
As he moved to the edge of the bed, pressing his knees into the mattress, she watched with mesmerized appreciation. Both her body and mind seemed to call to him. His presence felt as if it was an answer to her need.
His hand slid to the side of her face, sending a rush of sensation through every nerve ending of her body. “You belong to me.” The possessiveness of his words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, offering comfort. His voice, a deep baritone, insinuated into her mind like an added aphrodisiac.
She didn’t question the truth of his words. As pure as snow, she knew they were a creation of his very soul. Her hand covered his where it warmed her cheek. The connection she felt to him was beyond this world. Yet she couldn’t quite grasp why. “You came.”
He was closer now, pulling her into his arms, his body enclosing hers. His hands on her back. Her lips parted in invitation, yearning for the first touch of his mouth. His head lowered his face so near hers, he breathed with her, in and out, as if they were one.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice holding a breathless, husky quality. What she was asking for went beyond the kiss she desired. As if there was a void she couldn’t fill without him.
His answer was the brush of his lips over hers in a feather-light caress. The touch, though soft, came with an explosive impact. It felt as if her blood had turned to fire, moving through her body and creating a sizzle from the inside out. It spread from head to toe like a blanket of desire.
Unable to wait, she pressed her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth and slowly stroking his. A low growl erupted from his throat as his hand slid to the back of her head, and he kissed her with a hunger born of pure passion. Long, sultry and hot, the kiss pulled her under the spell of the moment, drugging her with its perfection. Her nipples ached for his touch, burning with a bittersweet need.
Side by side now, bodies pressed together, his erection settled between her thighs and teased her with its presence. She wanted him inside her. So much so that a slow burn formed between her legs. Touching and tasting, they molded their bodies together, trying to become one. The same need that drove her seemed to be working its magic on him as well. Her bra was tossed aside, and her nipples pressed into the dark hair of his chest. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed into him, chest to chest, kissing him, drinking him in.
He was so gentle, yet there was something almost primal in the way he held her. In the passionate way his mouth moved from her lips to her neck and then finally to her breast. His tongue swirled the stiff peak as her hands settled in his hair, a moan slipping from her lips as her lashes fluttered.
Lost. She was so damn lost in the moment. When he nudged her legs apart and slipped between her knees, she felt her heart kick into double time. Her panties were gone and she didn’t even remember him taking them off. Maybe she had. Ready to have him inside her, she opened for him, inviting him to slip his cock into hot, wet recesses. The ache she felt for him was almost painful in its brilliance.
But that completion she needed, that she knew he did as well, was yet to come. His mouth settled on her stomach, his hands palming her breasts. Lips, teeth, tongue teased her sensitive skin as his hands slid down her ribs to her hips and around her cheeks.
By the time his mouth covered her clit, she was arching towards him, helping him get to her. For a moment his mouth simply lingered on her sensitive nub, making her moan with the urgency of wanting more. Then with a soft suckle he began to please, tasting her with delicate little strokes of his tongue. One of his fingers slid along her wet folds, adding to the flavor of what he did to her. Provoking an even hotter burn.
Gradually he licked her faster, harder, dipping his tongue into the depths of her core and pushing her further towards the edge of satisfaction. She squirmed beneath him, begging for that ultimate satisfaction. Her fingers dug into the blankets, her head twisted from side to side.
She called out to him. “Please, Diego.” She wanted to scream, but in a split second, her voice was gone. A light perspiration formed on her skin as her body screamed for release. As if he knew she could take no more, he suckled her nub as he slid a finger inside her, stroking her inner wall as his mouth did sensual, delicious things.
“Oh,” she said. Once, twice. She wasn’t sure how many times. Then her body tensed as the very first ripple of orgasm approached, her breath lodging in her throat. Suddenly, she was there, shaking from the intensity of the spasms. From the pleasure that seemed to inch through every nerve ending in her body. And with gentle perfection, he stroked, and kissed, and licked slowing as she did, easing her into relaxation.
And satisfaction.
She let her eyes fall shut, waiting for him to slide up her body, anticipating his hard length sliding inside her slick readiness. A knock sounded on the door. She jumped, a small sound escaping her lips. Rising up on her elbows, she blinked.
Because Diego was gone.
Eyes wide, she searched the room, ignoring the knocking that had started again. Had it been a dream? Her hand slid down her stomach, between her legs, touching the wetness that he had created. The slickness of arousal proved her body’s response. But did it prove his presence?
He’d been there. She was sure of it. She pulled the sheet to her shoulders. God, had she dreamed the whole thing? Had she made up something so vivid in her mind that her body had responded?
“You okay in there?” David called through the door.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, fine. Be there in a minute.”
“You yelled or something. You sure?”
“Uh…yeah…dream,” she responded, her voice hoarse.
Or was it?
Chapter Three
At eleven forty-five that night, Marcella tiptoed to the door, trying not to wake her aunt. It had been a tough few hours as she struggled with not only the vividness of her dream but also the reality of the approaching midnight hour. If she didn’t go to Diego, she was quite certain he would come to her. A sure disaster. Any number of things could happen if he showed up. David being a major concern. He would confront Diego. Or maybe the opposite. Diego would confront David. Either way it was a no win situation. She had to find Diego before he found her.
As she reached for the door, her aunt’s voice stilled her movement. “Marcella, honey, where are you going?”
Sitting straight up, her aunt shook her head. The light came on. “No. You can’t do that. It’s not safe.” She reached for the phone. “Let me get David to go with you.”
“No!” Marcella said, stepping towards her.
“Why?” Catherine asked, confusion in her voice. “That’s his job.”
“I don’t want to wake him. I’m fine. I won’t be long.” She hoped she sounded convincing.
Apparently not. “That’s crazy. You can’t go alone.” She reached for the phone again.
“Wait!” They stared at each other. In a softer voice, Marcella reached for as close to the truth as possible. She hated lying but she didn’t want to cause concern either. “I’m meeting the man from beside the hotel today.”
Catherine stilled. After a moment, she sat the receiver down on the base. “Do you know this man?” No accusation in her voice. Only concern.
One of the things Marcella loved about her aunt was her understanding and supportive nature. “I know him,” she said, feeling deep in her heart she spoke honestly.
“I wondered when I saw you talking today. I assume you have reasons for leaving David out of this.” It wasn’t a question.
Marcella smile. “I do.”
Catherine’s brow’s dipped. “I still don’t like the idea of you leaving this room unprotected.”
“I won’t be. He will be waiting on me.” And she believed her words.
“I still don’t like this.” She searched Marcella’s face. “I know you though. This is important or you wouldn’t be doing it. Who is he to you and why don’t I know him?”
Marcella took a deep breath. “I can’t explain now. I really have to go, but I promise to tell you everything when I get back.”
She hesitated. “How long will you be gone? Decide now because if you are one minute late I am sending David after you.”
Marcella smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Catherine. One hour. I will return in one hour.”
Seconds passed as if she was contemplating. Then Catherine gave a nod. “One hour.”
* * * * *
They’d shared the same dream.
It was a common occurrence once mates had met but not fully joined. Nature wanted them to complete their connection. Even knowing this, the vividness of what they had experienced had astounded him. He could still smell her soft, floral scent. Still taste her on his lips. Just thinking about her made his cock hard. Inwardly, he cursed. His mind needed to be clear to protect her.
Focused on his primal need to take her, he wouldn’t be as sharp. In other words, he didn’t have time to win her affections. She would want him as he did her. He’d be honest about what their mating meant. He wanted no lies between them. But then he would take her. Make her his. Bury himself deep inside her and tear down the urgency his body and soul created.
Standing in the shadows, he used his keen night vision to take her in with intricate detail. She walked through the hotel doors, hair piled on top of her head, baring the glorious ivory skin of her neck. Eyeing her surroundings, Marcella stopped just beyond the entranceway. Fingers twisting together in front of her, she was clearly nervous. He expected as much under the circumstances. She knew she was hunted.
By him and by others.
Reaching for her with his mind, he sent her a message. In the trees to your left.
Her gaze shifted to his location, eyes narrowing. So easily they communicated without words. He’d never experienced such a thing yet he did it with her without thought.
To his surprise, she responded back using her mind. I’m not going into the woods. I’m going into the lobby. I will wait for you there. And then she turned and went back into the hotel.
Diego didn’t know if he should curse or laugh.
Admittedly, he was from the old Hispanic school of life. His mother was a traditional woman who devoted her life to doing what her husband bid. His father, God rest his soul, had been a brilliant doctor who had worked too much. But his mother never complained. Not once. At least, not in public.
Diego had always dated Hispanic women, mostly because it was what he felt was expected. Now, he was faced with a mate who was not only white but loaded with defiance. A small laugh escaped his lips as he started to walk. Life with his white woman was going to be interesting.
After no more than two steps, he froze. His senses picked up the nearness of at least one Arion. Which meant they knew he was near as well. They could track one another above ground. Only the coverage of underground caverns allowed the Knights to hide from the enemy. And once they had Marcella’s presence memorized, they would be able to track her as well. Moving again, this time with urgency, he needed to get to Marcella.
No. It was too late. The Arions were close. He needed to lure them away from her. His presence had been identified. Hers, he was certain, was still doubted or they would have already made a move to take her.
Turning back towards the blackness of the woods, utilizing his exceptional night vision, he sent out a mental call to the enemy. Walking until he was out of sight of the hotel, he stopped, closed his eyes and focused on calling the Arions to him. There was no guarantee they would answer, but his gut said they would.
His hand slid to his waist where he held a gun armed with tranquilizer darts. It was damn hard to kill an Arion with a gun. You had to shoot them in the head just right. But thanks to Holly, they had a new method for battle. Arions who were shot with tranquilizers experienced a temporary loss of powers.
The wind picked up, gushing around him, and he knew the enemy answered his call with a show of their power. Arions, like GTECHS, could travel with the wind. Two Arions appeared, standing side by side. As quickly as it had stirred, the air stilled. Diego took quick stock of the enemy, preparing to battle. Arions loved to fight. It was their first instinct. Kill now. Talk later. And when they came in pairs, they planned for battle.
The bigger of the two had long black hair and a huge scar down his chiseled face. The other, his opposite, sported equally long blond hair. He was short but stout with a rounder face and a red tone to his skin.
The one with black hair spoke. “This isn’t Knight territory. Why are you here?”
That he was questioned at all said a lot. They had a purpose they couldn’t afford to set aside for battle. And that purpose was finding Marcella.
“I’m here to see family,” Diego explained. “I’m alone, not looking for trouble.”
The Arion responded fast. “What family?”
“My grandmother.”
“You came alone to Mexico to visit your grandmother.” It was a flat statement. Disbelief laced his words.
Diego laughed. “I am Mexican, in case you didn’t notice.” His words were meant as a taunt.
Anger flared in the dark ones eyes. “Answer the question.”
He needed to get to Marcella. It was all he could think about. “She’s ill and I’m a doctor.”
The other Arion spoke. “We know who you are. You used to be the Arion doctor.”
“Things change,” Diego responded.
The short one stepped forward. “You’re a damn traitor.” His tone held the bite of pent-up violence.
The dark one lifted a staying hand, giving him a sideways glance. “Let it be. We have bigger things to attend.” Then he focused on Diego. “Your grandmother is here at this hotel?”
Careful to weave a tale that wouldn’t backfire, he thought through his options before answering. “No, but she is meeting me nearby in the morning.”
The dark Arion seemed to consider his options. “I’m going to come looking for you tomorrow. You better be gone.”
Oh, he would be, and so would Marcella. “Done.”
He and the dark Arion locked gazes, a hint of challenge in their exchange. Diego made damn sure his message was clear. He was more than willing to fight. Though he was by nature a healer, he didn’t shy away from a batt
le. He’d long ago learned surviving the Arions meant combat.
The two Arions backed away, the wind kicking dirt into the air at their command.
And then they were gone.
* * * * *
Marcella paced the small, deserted lobby. Okay, so Diego clearly didn’t take orders well. Not that she thought he would. She’d reacted out of discomfort. Being outside had felt dangerous. More so than usual. Instinct had kicked in. And it wasn’t Diego who had made her feel so concerned. It had been a feeling of darkness.
As if someone or something other than her stranger lurked nearby.
Too much time had passed with no sign of Diego. Maybe he was expecting her to go back outside. She didn’t know what to do.
The lone desk clerk, an elderly Hispanic man, eyed her with concern. “Anything you need, señorita?”
“No,” Marcella said, forcing a light tone. “Just waiting on a friend.”
As if on cue, Diego walked through the door, looking big, bold and far too sexy for Marcella’s resistance to hold. She wanted this man like some sort of hunger that demanded to be fed. He stood in the entranceway looking like sin itself, but there was also some sort of Spanish warrior feel about the way he held himself. There was an edge to him. It charged through the air and wrapped around her like some sort of warning.
And then he was walking towards her. With long strides, he closed the distance between them. He moved so fast, she blinked and he was in front of her. He stopped so near she could have leaned forward and touched him. And she wanted to, but he did it for her. His hand closed around hers, warm and secure.
She looked up at him, feeling the impact in her stomach. A flutter of awareness. A flash of the moments in her dream, naked, bodies pressed together. His eyes heated in return, and she felt the fire of the shared experience as if it was happening again. He had the same memory. There was no time to anticipate her response. She leaned into him, feeling an uncontrollable urge to be close to him. She replayed his words from her dream.
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