Dreams collided with the present, his face shifting, moving, yet remaining the same.
“You remember. I see it in your eyes. Eyes I’ve waited to see for too many lifetimes to even count. You know me.”
Chapter Two
Bishop de Leiane watched her, noticed her eyes didn’t stray from his but narrowed at the corners. Dimples winked at him as her full lips pressed together—lips he wanted to taste, to nibble, to have wrapped around his cock.
She shook her head of dark, tousled tresses. He yearned to run his hands through her hair, to feel again the silk against his skin, to breathe deep her scent.
This time, her hair was short. It shouldn’t look right on her. Her hair had always been long, not the same length as his own. Yet it…fit her. This new woman whose soul he knew yet did not.
Her tilted green eyes held a wariness, a fear that chilled him. What had happened to her?
“Where have you been?” he whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers again across her soft cheek. She was pale, not blushing as he’d often thought of her. Her face was the same, the slope of her cheek, her tilted eyes, her strong nose, the rise of her forehead broken by a deep widow’s peak.
“I know this face,” he couldn’t help saying.
He’d known she was coming. Some part of him had felt it, a building of energy like a dangerous storm rolling over the mountains to unleash on the plains below. The moment she’d stepped foot in Prague two days ago, he’d known. He’d needed only to close his eyes to know in which part of the city she was staying. He knew the hotel she was in. He’d sent two of his men there to watch for her.
Bishop felt the wariness in her. And the fear. Wariness he understood, even a slight fear, but hers was more. She held perfectly still, staring at him.
“Wh-who are you?” she whispered.
“You know me, Natiya.”
She blinked, shook her head, and pulled away from him. “I don’t know you. I don’t. And my name isn’t Natiya. Why do you call me that? I’m Skyler.”
He started to reach for her again but instead put his hands in his pockets. She watched his hands, watched his every action as if she waited for him to strike.
Sudden understanding roared through him.
Had the dreams, the nightmares he’d had of her in the last few years of her crying been in this time? Not a memory from before? There had been no details, nothing but her profile in darkness and the sound of her quiet weeping.
“Who hurt you?” he bit out.
She jerked and backed away from him. “I-I want you to leave.”
Her knuckles were white where she gripped his coat.
He held his hands palms out. “I mean you no harm.” He waited a moment and then added, “You know that. A part of you knows that. Else why would you be here talking with me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because you followed me?”
He tilted his head in her direction.
“Men,” she muttered.
For a moment, they said nothing. He stepped beside her and looked out at the river beneath him. He hated this bridge. Hated it and would not feel easy until she was safely away from it.
“We met here, before,” he told her, watching her from the corner of his eye.
“There were no statues,” she whispered as if talking to herself.
“Indeed no. The statues were added much later.” He decided not to draw attention to the fact she believed him.
“It calls to me, this bridge. I don’t know why.” She closed her eyes and then looked at him. “Please tell me I’m not insane.”
A chuckle danced out of him before he could stop it. “No more than anyone else.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “My friends say I’m going nuts, yet they don’t seem surprised after…” She trailed off. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The dreams? The images. They seem so real, like a memory more than a dream. So real I can taste a kiss, feel a tear, mourn in sorrow,” she whispered.
He was more concerned with the after, or rather the before. Instead, he would wait and draw her out. She would trust him. She already was, to a degree, by talking to him. “Dreams? Images?”
She looked at him, and he wanted to kiss her, to taste her, to take her back to his apartments and hear the moans he could draw from her. He loved the sound she made as he sucked her nipples deep into his mouth, as he slid into her hot, wet sheath.
His cock pressed against his slacks.
“I started having dreams again of this place. I didn’t for a long time,” she said, shaking her head. “Then I did again.”
“What did you dream?”
For a moment, she didn’t answer. He felt her draw in a deep breath, could hear the steady beat of her heart. Finally, she said, “I dream of you, of me. Dressed in corsets and velvets. I’ve dreamed of making love in a stone room, of laughing with you. Being safe with you.” Her voice grew softer, deeper. “The battlefield… I couldn’t… I couldn’t find you.” She shuddered.
He reached out and ran a hand down her arm. “No, you couldn’t. But I found you.”
Her eyes grew glazed, her breath quickened, and then she blinked. “At the encampment. Later that evening.”
“You were sitting on a rock, your tears falling in silent rivers.” The memory still tore at him even after all the time that passed.
She blinked again. “This can’t be real.”
He tilted his head.
“It can’t be.”
“Are you brave enough to find out if it is?” She had to say yes. If she didn’t, he’d simply wait her out.
A harsh chuckle grated out. There was pain in her, and he would find out what had scarred her and who had dared.
“Brave?” She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, making some of the wavy curls stand up. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t have traveled to a foreign city alone.”
“Perhaps.”
“Everything I’ve told you is true.” He stepped closer to her. “I know you, whether your name is Skyler, Natiya, or Susan. Your soul is the same to me. Your being completes mine.” He leaned closer and breathed in her scent. “You always smell of spring meadows in a soft rain.” He whispered into her ear, “I know how it feels to kiss your lips, the feel of them, the taste of them, and you remember what it is like to kiss me.” He ran his tongue around her ear, felt her breath hitch. “You came here to find me, and if you hadn’t, I would have traveled to find you. I had felt your calling, building like an electrical charge. I would have found you if you had not found me. It’s our time now.”
She trembled. He felt it and started to wrap his arms around her but was afraid it would only frighten her, so he held himself still, yet let her feel him behind her.
“I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Let me show you. I’ll remind you.”
Her jaw moved out, then back, again and again. He smiled. He knew that small telltale action. She was debating.
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and he hardened even more. “Tonight. I’ll give you the rest of the night, but at my hotel.”
Bishop stepped to the side of her and gently turned her to face him. “Just one night?”
Her eyes held his. “Men lie. I’ve learned that. So why I’m even giving in to this insane notion, I’ve no idea. For all I know, you could be some suave skin trader, and I’ll never see the light of day again unless it’s to fuck some guy you tell me to.”
Anger at whoever had hurt her snapped in him and spilled over onto her. “If any other so much as touches you,” he bit out, his hands gentle on her shoulders though he wanted to shake her, “I’ll kill him.”
Her eyes grew glazed again. “It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
He remembered the others who had dared to try his temper by encroaching on his wife. Some were only minor slights that had been quickly dealt with. But a few had tried for more. One had tested Bishop’s streng
th by kidnapping her. The man had died slowly.
“Indeed no.” He moved into her and bent down so they were nose to nose. “You know me. And if you trust yourself, you’ll come with me.”
“I’ve a feeling you were always this bossy.” Her head tilted to the side. “Come morning, if I don’t believe you, you go and leave me the hell alone.”
“I’ll convince you tonight.”
He held out his hand to her. She looked at it, then at him before she tentatively placed her hand into the palm of his.
Energy, hot as lightning, rippled through him, and he heard her gasp. He only smiled at her and turned them both toward the mouth of the bridge, where a limo waited.
“One night,” she said again.
“Yes, I heard. One night of passion you won’t ever forget. One night of passion to remind you who you truly are and where you truly belong.” He’d convince her tonight. He had to. He would not lose her again.
***
I have lost my mind.
Skyler could all but hear her mother’s voice in her head: Never, ever, ever talk to strangers! Strangers are dangers!
Granted, it had been years since that bit of advice had been drilled into her head, but really, some life lessons were taught early and applied throughout life.
She glanced at the man beside her, his coat still draped over her shoulders, sheltering her. He wore a silver-gray shirt that hinted at a muscular torso, a torso she knew, just knew was scarred.
“Out of my mind,” she muttered.
“No, you’re not,” he answered in a tone that might as well have said it might rain for all the seriousness he gave it.
At the car, a guard nodded to them both, and she recognized the guard as the bouncer from the club.
She stopped. What did she really know about these guys? Other than that she’d dreamed of one of them years ago, and again when things got really bad before her divorce. Okay, so she’d dreamed of him nightly for the last few months, but really, did that say anything other than that she might be obsessed? Or that she needed to have a permanent prescription for certain narcotics?
Or just needed to get laid, as her friend Jess often told her.
“You need not fear.”
“I have every reason to fear,” she countered, still looking at the guard.
He sighed, and she felt him tighten. She knew how to gauge a man’s reactions. Her life had depended on it once.
“Nat—” He shook his head. “Skyler. This is Andre, my friend and guard.”
She raised a brow. “And why do you need a guard?”
One corner of his mouth quirked. “I always loved that about you.”
She frowned.
“Can we discuss it later?”
“You know,” she said, shaking off his coat, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”
It was his turn to study her. Those eyes of his reminded her of liquid silver. They heated, warmed her in places she had thought were long dead. Her breath quickened and her stomach tightened, and damned if her pussy didn’t spasm in raw need. His eyes flashed, and he breathed deeply through his nose, sniffing the air.
“You lie.”
Now he was pissing her off. “Look, I’ve had it with men telling me what to do and what to think.” She shoved his jacket to him. “Find someone else to tease.”
Those silver eyes narrowed, and she stepped back. “I gave my word, no harm will come to you. There was a time when nothing stopped you from taking what you wanted, from going after what you wanted.” He stepped closer to her, the coat crushed between them. His hands came up and cradled her face. She could feel the tightly leashed anger in him, like an aggravating irritant.
She froze, trying to calm her breathing.
Yet.
Yet…
Yet, some part of her actually believed that rising ire would not be turned on her.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured.
She was already shaking her head, even as he lowered his. His hands held her immobile, yet his hands were gentle, though she knew she would not get away. She dropped her gaze to his lips, the bottom slightly plumper than the top, both firm.
His kiss would taste of power, of promise, of passion.
Wariness, even fear warred with desire, with arousal.
His lips were cool as they touched hers, still as gentle as a breeze. Cool enough she kissed him back in hopes of giving him some warmth.
His shirt was smooth beneath her fingers. One arm wrapped around her back and pulled her closer. She opened her mouth and tentatively touched her tongue to the seam of his mouth. He groaned and pulled her even tighter against him. His mouth sealed over hers, robbing her of every last shred of thought she might have had. He tasted of coffee, of spices, and something else. Power tingled along her nerves, promising more to come.
Images flashed one after another through her mind. No longer hazy or glazed with fog. No, these images were sharper than any she’d ever had, either awake or asleep.
She saw them as clearly as if she’d opened her eyes. Their laughter danced in her mind. She knew the depth of his moan she could rip from the back of his throat as she took him in her mouth. Knew the length of the diagonal scar that cut across his chest. She ran her hand along it and felt the raised skin beneath her fingertips.
He deepened the kiss, tasting more of her, taking more of her, demanding more of her.
Her world tilted. What she knew, what she thought she knew, fell away.
All she felt was him.
All she knew was him.
All she could sense was him.
He was her anchor.
She ran her hands up his shoulders and gave herself over to the kiss, fusing her mouth just as demandingly to his. Her fingers danced up the back of his neck to tangle in his hair.
He hissed a breath into her mouth.
She saw them again in the firelight, naked and entwined as he took her from behind, her cries echoing off the stones as passion hotter than she’d ever known flooded through her.
The image flashed to them in an orchard, beneath a tree, him holding her, her back against his chest as they sat in the shade and blossoms fluttered to the ground around them. They were both laughing.
Laughter.
Happiness.
Passion.
Trust.
Love.
What she felt in that moment was love.
She ripped her mouth from his, and he stood looking down at her. Her fingers still played with his hair. Her lips tingled from his kisses, and every nerve in her body wanted him stretched over her, beside her, above her, inside her.
“Are you playing with my mind?” she asked, not knowing where the words came from as she hadn’t even thought of them before then.
He only shook his head, his fingers spasming on the base of her spine, sending more shivers through her. “I respect you too much to do that.”
I would never do that to you, Natiya.” His deep chuckle caressed over her. “You would likely stake me while I slept, my love. And then where would either of us be?” He brushed a long strand of hair away from her naked shoulder and leaned in to kiss her neck. She shivered…
Skyler shivered, blinked and blinked again, realizing they stood here and now, not wherever they were or had been in her mind.
“Do not let fear dictate our fate. I won’t stand for that. Not when I don’t even know how to fight that battle for you.” His thumb brushed back and forth over her cheekbone. “One night.”
She looked at him. So strong, so…so…virile.
Fate? No it wasn’t fear that was dictating fate. It was her ex, and she was letting him.
“Whoever put that look on your face, I would gladly kill,” he whispered.
Fear. Fate. She would not throw away happiness because of that bastard.
No more. No more would her ex have a say in her life.
Never again.
She would not allow him to ruin another thing for her. She sure as hell wouldn�
��t allow him to take this chance of happiness from her. With a nod, she pulled out of his arms and bent to slide into the limo.
She straightened. “I don’t even know your name.”
He smiled. “Bishop. My name is Bishop.”
Taking a deep breath, she ran her gaze over him again. “All right, Bishop.” Then she slid into the back of the limo. She might have lost her mind, but if this was a screwed-up reality, she liked it a hell of a lot better than her real life. So it couldn’t be that bad, could it?
And if she wasn’t meant to be here, then why had she traveled all the way across two continents to freaking get here?
“Thank you, Andre,” he said as he climbed in beside her.
The doors shut, and soon the slick car floated down the highway.
In a few minutes, they stopped outside her hotel. She realized she’d never given him the name. “How did you know where I was staying?”
He raised a brow. “How did you know to come here to Prague? To go into Dimensions tonight?”
“The club?”
He grinned. “My club.”
“Oh.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Maybe he had followed her. Or maybe she had somehow followed him? Had she read about him and he fit her dream man so well, she essentially stalked him? Or…
Or…
Or was it as he said, as he implied? Were they really meant to be together?
Only one way to find out.
Chapter Three
She held his stare.
“We can go to my place if you’d feel more comfortable.”
She laughed. “No. No. I think something familiar, even as lame as my hotel room, will help.”
He reached over and grabbed a bottle of champagne.
She licked her lips. “Um… I know this sounds weird, but could we leave that here? I’ve already had a beer, and I’d rather not…”
“It’s to celebrate.”
So were all the times her ex drank. To celebrate, to take the edge off, to help him sleep. But she’d paid the price.
Taming the Alpha Page 128
