As she slipped over the edge of the precipice, he clutched her hands and allowed himself to be pulled over with her. Allowed himself to get lost in a world beyond comprehension as vision blurred and hearing dimmed. With one last moan, he emptied himself into her as the world flashed bright around them and then dimmed into nothingness.
Chapter 14
Mikayla trailed a finger through his hair, which glistened with sweat and rain in the candlelight. She traced patterns in his sweat and felt him smile into her hair. Her weight pinned him to the mattress, but it was pleasing to know he was there, his arms wrapped around her. Protective but loving. She kissed his shoulder, tasting his skin as he had done to her. His groan made her giggle.
Will opened his eyes. He looked up into her face and struggled to resist the grin that was on her face. Her fingers pushed his hair from his face and cupped his cheek. She pulled him into a long, lazy kiss that would have killed him if he hadn’t already been dead. He sighed and nestled her head against his shoulder and held her there, comfortable to hold her. In the distance, the storm thundered far out to sea.
“The storm seems to have moved on.” Mikayla murmured against his chest, her voice drowsy. Her fingers trailed along his chest, slow and gentle.
He smiled at the sensations her hands created as they ran over his skin. “Hmm…” He was incapable of speech; he was incapable of thought. He was lost in her, fearing to think of anything beyond where he was and who he was with.
Mikayla leaned up on one arm and gazed at his face. With a finger she traced the curves and hollows of his aristocratic face. He kissed her finger when it memorized his lips. She smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to his brow. She pulled the coverlet from the foot of the bed over him and left him to his dreams.
Mikayla pulled her bathrobe from the closet and moved down the stairs fastening the robe as she went. She moved around the downstairs, blowing out the candles that had left pools of wax on the fine wooden tables. She carried the lantern Will had left burning near the front door into the kitchen and rummaged through one of the cupboards. She was surprised to find herself humming the song Will had sung to her days before on the mountain-top. She wasn’t one to give into silly romantic notions such as humming. Despite herself, Mikayla smiled and sung softly the words that sang in her heart.
Mikayla lit the gas stove and placed the frying pan on the burner. Into the pan, she dumped eggs, cheese, and ham allowing it to bubble and crackle merrily. Although she wasn’t one for cooking, she did know how to make an omelet, and she knew she was hungry. She sang other songs that popped into her brain as she watched the eggs cook.
Although the thunder had moved out to sea, lightening still flickered in the night, creating ghostly shadows and flashes of light in the dark house. One of the shadows moved with ease through the dark, avoiding the flashes of light. He crept across the hard-wood floor, stealthy as a mouse in the darkened house, towards the door to the cellar.
He could hear her voice singing in the kitchen and faint crackle of eggs frying in the pan. The smell wafted towards him reminding him he needed to hurry. She would be finished cooking soon and probably headed up the stairs. He was in her path to the stairs. He had to move. He lightly adjusted the backpack he had slung over his shoulders and took another step towards the cellar door. Under his weight, the old wood of the floor creaked.
Mikayla’s hand froze over the pan, spatula poised. She held still, barely breathing. She swallowed stiffly. In the darkness, shadows jumped and wavered. In the darkness, things seemed out of place, wrong somehow. Then, she shook her head. She was being ridiculous. “Will?” She called out cheerfully. She scooped up the eggs onto a plate and waited for his sandy blond head to appear around the corner. There was no answer.
She looked around her at the darkened kitchen, realizing a draft scuttled through the room just as the lantern went out. She froze, in the darkness, her breath shallow and her heart racing.
He took another step, sweat beading on his brow as he moved with the shadows, thankful for once for the night breezes off the sea. His foot hit another creak. He knew she was frozen in place; she wasn’t moving, frightened of the night sounds.
He paused and peered through the darkness. He could just see her filmy white robe through the darkness, clinging to her sweat slicked skin. Another man would have longed to peel that robe away and touch her, and although desire raced through him, he didn’t have the time nor the luxury to give in to fantasies. Her back was to him as she waited in the darkness for her heart to stop racing. He carefully turned the knob of the cellar door, lessening the scrape of the handle and hinges as he pulled it open.
Mikayla jerked at the noise and whirled around, lost in the dark, wishing Will would come down with a candle lit in his hand and find her. She swallowed again, knowing there was someone just out of her reach. She could sense the presence, something ominous and evil.
“Will?” Mikayla whispered into the shadows. Her voice shook slightly and sweat slicked her clenched fists. She clutched the spatula in her hand like a weapon and slid her hand along the edge of the counter. She took one step forward, waiting. When she heard nothing, she took another step forward.
Slowly, one foot at a time, she moved towards the cellar door. Lightning flashes illuminated the room, brightening the corners and creating other shadows. Wind whistled through the open window, fluttering the once friendly curtains that now hung like ghosts in the gloom. Her heart beat uncontrollably, pounding in her ears. Again, she whispered Will’s name.
The cellar door was there, before her in the dark. She gathered her courage and reached out a tremulous hand. She felt the door knob cool against her fingers.
Then, a hand closed over her wrist.
Mikayla’s scream pierced the air, and the spatula skittered across the kitchen floor as she struggled against the hands that gripped her in the darkness. She fought the arms that encircled her and cried out, drowning the voice that called her name. Panic filled her as the darkness closed in; then, there was light.
“Mikayla!” Will’s voice cut through her panic. He shook her slightly, his hands holding her wrists to prevent the blows she struggled to throw at him. “Mikayla, it’s me!” His voice echoed in the silent kitchen cutting through her whimpers.
Mikayla looked up into his face that was brilliantly lit in the kitchen now that the power had returned to the island. His hair was tussled with sleep and sex. His eyes peered into her face, concern written in every feature. He held her wrists looser now that she had stopped fighting against him and as her breath blew out in one shaky breath he pulled her close, encircling her in his strong arms, safety and protection.
Mikayla pushed away from him and moved so the island stood between them, separating them. She tugged her bathrobe tight against her skin and rubbed the gooseflesh that covered her arms. She said nothing and refused to look in his eyes. Her shame because of her fright was more than she could handle. She was ashamed of her fright, her need to be held close by him. She was ashamed of her sudden need for him alone. She had never needed anyone, and no one had ever needed her. Alex hadn’t needed her, and she hadn’t needed Alex. That was what had led to the end of their rocky relationship. She didn’t need anyone, and she certainly didn’t want to need Will, not then, not ever.
Will leaned both hands on the counter. He watched her closely but made no attempt to reach for her. She had pushed him away, and despite the need in him to hold her close and soothe her, he wouldn’t grovel. He had come to her because he had needed her in his lowest moment. He wouldn’t lower himself again since she obviously wasn’t going to reach for him when she needed someone to protect her. Anger and resentment stirred inside of him, mixed with another emotion he hadn’t known he could feel for a woman, sadness at her obvious rejection.
“What frightened you, Mikayla?” His voice was soft, his accent soft and melodic, denying the new storm that stirred his blood. This storm was not one of mourning and anger, but one of resentment tha
t she should so easily dismiss their moments of love making and turn from him.
Mikayla pointed to the cellar door that now, in the light, was not menacing. There was no evil air in the room, simply that coldness that followed some intimate experiences. That ill-ease that prevented Mikayla from believing in fairy tales and romance novels. Her voice trembled slightly, but she stood tall, ready for his harsh criticisms or the cold tone that told her she was being ridiculous. “I thought I saw someone by the door. I heard the creaks of the house, as if someone were walking across the floor. The wind blew the lantern out and I was left in darkness.” She laughed half-heartedly at the idea of the dark scaring her. “I was just being silly.”
Will leaned on the counter and mentally traced the royal crest in-laid in the tile before speaking. “It isn’t silly to be frightened of the dark, Mikayla. Lots of people are scared of the dark.” He frowned and looked into her eyes that now reflected his image back at him, a wall keeping her emotions hidden, keeping them apart. “Why didn’t you call for me?”
Mikayla swallowed. She had called for him, and he hadn’t answered. He hadn’t been there when she was the most scared. She had been alone. She had been alone just as she was always alone. Distrust tasted like bile in her throat, and she wondered where he had come from. Why hadn’t she heard his approach? She said nothing only hugged herself and continued to stare at him, her eyes wide with wariness and distrust.
Will picked up the frying pan from the stove, and holding it high, he moved to the cellar door. He slowly opened the door and flicked the light switch just inside the door. He peered down the stairs before moving down, disappearing into the depths.
Mikayla gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white. Her breath was lodged in her throat as worry creased her forehead. She believed there had been someone standing there, in the dark, watching her, but she hadn’t expected Will to take her seriously. She hadn’t expected him to go in search of the specter that had startled her beyond reason. Her breathing regulated itself as he appeared at the tops of the stairs and shook his head. He flicked off the light-switch, closed the cellar door, and flipped the lock. He set the pan back on the stove and moved toward her around the island. As he grew closer, Mikayla backed away, tugging nervously on the sash to her robe.
Will followed her slowly around the island as she backed away. There wasn’t fear in her, he could see that, but there was something else, something that was pulling her away from him even after they had been so close. “Mikayla, why do you keep moving away from me?” He smiled, but it was feral. His white teeth and gray eyes shone too brightly in the light.
Mikayla wrapped her arms around herself and kept backing up until she bumped into the table in the dining area. “I…um…I” her voice faltered as he cupped her cheek tenderly, rubbing her face with his thumb. Her eyes were drawn upward to his face. The light was behind his head, his face in shadows. Only his eyes glowed, like a predator hunting its prey. Mikayla felt fear suddenly, real fear, fear of the unknown and fear of the man before her who only an hour before she had laid in his arms. Where had he been when she had been so frightened of the dark? Why hadn’t he seemed surprised that she had believed there was someone near the cellar? Who was this man? Distrust suddenly filled her. That feeling on unease seeped in from where she had shoved it originally. He was hiding something; she had thought it before, and now, in the remnants of a storm-tossed night, the thoughts returned full-force.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and purposefully straightened her spine. Her mind scrambled for an answer as he lowered his head to nibble along her jaw-line. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong. She didn’t want it to be wrong; yet she knew Will wasn’t all that he seemed. Something had driven him to her that night, and now, as her own passion diminished, she wondered about the intentions of this man she had allowed inside her body, heart, and soul.
Mikayla flattened her hands against his chest and pushed him away. It was wrong. Just because she had made the mistake before didn’t mean she had to make it again. It had been a temporary lapse of judgment. That was all. People did it all the time; she was human, but it couldn’t happen again. She wasn’t a woman who flirted. She wasn’t a woman that men desired. She wasn’t a woman who was given to mindless affairs. She wasn’t a woman who found sex a desirable experience. It had always left her unfulfilled, empty and wishing for more, except for…no, she wouldn’t think of how she had come alive beneath Will’s hands and how she had ached for him or how wonderful it had been to be with him. He had come to her because he had wanted something. He had volunteered to help her with the research because he wanted something, and now, he stood before her because he had wanted something. Something she had given him without even a second thought. He hadn’t wanted her, he had wanted to forget, to get lost. He had used her to do that.
Will watched her curiously. She knotted her fingers together and moved slowly, lost in her thoughts. He wished he knew what those thoughts were. He watched her wander into the front room, the gauzy robe moving with her walk, a hint of the naked body beneath. He would have loved to peal that robe away and love her again, this time for her, not himself but he sensed there was something that was preventing it. “Mikayla?” He followed her into the front room. “What are you thinking?”
Mikayla turned on him and stood there, frank in the living room with light behind her, turning her auburn curls into a halo of red and gold. “Why did you come here tonight, Will?” Her frankness startled him, but he knew he had to answer her, plainly, even if he didn’t tell her the truth.
Will shrugged his shoulders. He would have put his hands into his pockets, had he had any pockets, but instead he ran a hand through his tussled hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “I needed you, Mikayla.” He held out his hands in a helpless gesture. It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the complete truth. He couldn’t tell her the entire truth; she would never understand his grief and the need to hide from it for just a moment in something that was so alive. She would never understand to run from what and who he was.
Mikayla’s laugh was cold and harsh. Ill humor lighted her eyes and she pointed to herself. “Me? You needed me? For what, to satisfy your own hungers?” When he reached for her to calm her, she warded him off with one cold movement of her hand. “You didn’t need me, Will. I know what you needed but it certainly didn’t have to be with me.” She stepped back again, putting more distance between them. “Tell me truthfully, Will. Why did you come here? Why did you volunteer to help me in the first place? It certainly wasn’t because you needed me.” She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked at her bare feet with her cheerfully painted toe-nails.
“Go, get dressed.” She looked up at his face, confused briefly by the pain that was evident in the lines, but it didn’t deter her, though perhaps her words lacked the venom she might have wished had been there. “Leave, Will, and please, don’t come to work anymore. I didn’t ask for your help and I can finish this project without you.”
Will narrowed his eyes as her words registered in his brain. Did she really believe that he didn’t need her? He needed her so much it hurt. He needed to feel her wrapped around him, her laugh in his ear, low and sexy, full of life. He needed her mind, organized and full of creativity. He needed everything that existed between them. How could she believe that he would go anywhere now, now that they had shared so much. He knew he would have to leave eventually, but there was no way he was leaving, not tonight.
Will strode across the room to her and wrapped her hair around his hand. He pulled her to her toes into a hard, frustrated kiss that rocked both of their souls and left her lips bruised. Her hands pushed half-heartedly at his chest and then fisted against the smooth flesh that was cold from the night air that filled the room. He wrenched her head back, his eyes dark, filled with the emotions that swirled within him. Anger, resentment, sadness, need all mixed into a heady storm, startling Mikayla into a gasp.
“Do you think I am here becaus
e I had a scratch I needed to satisfy and now that I have I’m going to just walk out?” When she didn’t answer, he tugged harder on her hair causing her to cry out.
“Do you?” He didn’t shout but the edge in his voice cut straight through to her marrow leaving her cold. She couldn’t answer. Words failed her as she stared into those eyes that were both cold and kind, loving and hateful, beautiful and dangerous.
“Did it ever occur to you, Mikayla, that whatever ideas you have in your head aren’t any more truthful than those fairytales you despise? Did it ever occur to you that I might desire you more than I can comprehend?” His voice softened and he released her hair only to stroke his hand down her back feeling her shivers and the silk that separated them. “Did it ever occur to you that I might not like aching for you but there is nothing I can to do prevent it. You are inside of me, here,” he rubbed his heart with his free hand. Then, surprising them both, he took one of her hands that rested against his chest in a fist, and pried open her fingers, kissing her palm. “You are inside of me, and I haven’t a clue what to do about it.”
Mikayla stared up at him, her defenses crumbling as his voice and words washed over her aching soul like a healing balm. Was it possible that this handsome stranger who had appeared unbidden in her life wanted her just as she wanted him? It seemed impossible, yet here he was, kissing her softly, melting the wall that surrounded her. She pulled her hand away from his and ran her fingers over the back of his neck as he deepened the kiss, drawing her out of her shell and into his arms.
He could feel her melt in his arms and give herself into the moment, but there was still something that was between them that he knew he had to fix. He had to tell her the truth. He had to tell her everything and soon. She would hate him. He knew that, but he also knew he owed it to her. He would tell her everything about the darkness of Amor, soon, but for that moment, he wanted only her and a world of heat, a world he could be lost within.
The Eye of the Wolf Page 16
