So Tempting

by Jean Brashear

  Too blissed out to fight the pleasure anymore, Jace lay back in his arms, legs splayed, his finger buried deep inside, his thumb pressed against her.

  Replete, she smiled.

  Then found the energy and mischief to rock once more against his hand.

  Dante's eyes all but burned her up.

  Lassitude faded fast. Hunger crashed over her in gale-force waves. Jace rose swiftly over him and parted her thighs to straddle his lap. Diving fingers into his long dark mane, Jace leaped from conquest to aggressor in the space of a breath.

  She traced the length of him, smiling as he pulsed against her hand. "Now," she purred, "You surrender to me."

  The moment she laid her mouth on his, the world detonated. Light flared phosphorescent, sparks shot from her body to his. Ribbons of violent color spilled into the night. Jace slanted her head to deepen the kiss, rose to her knees and forced his head back against the chair.

  Pungent and heady, arousal exploded in the air about them. Dante crushed her against his chest. Jace fought to control the tempo, but the predator had awakened, and nothing would stop him now.

  Like two savage gods, they mated, the only barrier between them their battle for control. This sense of total possession was beyond anything Jace had ever experienced, this awareness that she could not hold him at bay, could not surrender merely her body and keep the rest of her intact.

  Yet a look at Dante's eyes told her he was not immune to her, either. An unexpected vulnerability peered out, fed her craving. She tugged at his clothing, wanting to feel him skin to skin, abandoning buttons to jerk his shirt over his head, struggling with the fastenings on his jeans.

  Dante released the kiss and swore impatiently, rose from the chair to carry her to what she hoped was a bed. Jace locked her legs around his waist, his every step rubbing her mound against the hard ridge of flesh. As he strode, she sought out his mouth, sweeping inside to taste the wildness of him on her tongue.

  But soon she realized they were traveling through a tunnel, then climbing a set of stairs.

  The room she found herself in was...amazing. Round walls, a thick, beautiful rug on the floor, a massive bed beneath a clear skylight shimmering icy-blue with moonlight that surrounded her, poured over her skin.

  Falling back on the bed, she watched him strip with haste.

  Finally—at last, oh God, at last—he covered her, skin to heated skin.

  Midnight, deep in the forest. A predator stalking her, demanding everything. Silver eyes searched her own as if there was something he must tell her.

  Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. "What is it?"

  Shadows passed over the silver. "Nothing."

  "But—"

  He pressed the merest inch into her.

  Jace sucked in air. Moaned.

  Dante's strong arms held him above her, still as a statue. "I cannot afford to want you so."

  Jace searched his gaze. "Why?"

  A fine mist of sweat broke out on his forehead. "Too much is at stake. I should make you stay far away, but I cannot."

  She thrust her hips, aching to draw him inside. Her eyes closed at the exquisite feel of him. "You want me open to you, that's what you said."

  "I need more. I must have your trust. Your true surrender."

  "Why?"

  Slowly, he expanded her, the sensation of fullness driving her fingernails into his sides. Inhaling sharply, she tried again. "Why, Dante?"

  Another agonizing, slow slide, yet still he said nothing.

  She closed her eyes, forced herself not to beg, though her body was screaming for relief.

  "Justine." His voice pulsed with an urgency she hadn't heard before. "You will see things...hear things that confuse you, arouse your suspicions. You must not yield to them." The note of absolute truth in his voice opened her eyes. "You feel what I feel. Open to me. Let us soar together. Give me more than your body. I need your help, indeed your very soul."

  When she wouldn't answer, he withdrew, and Jace felt a loss so deep, she wanted to weep.

  Though his body strained with the effort of holding back and his face was carved in lines of need, she had no doubt that he would walk away if she continued to withhold herself from him.

  "You ask too much," she whispered, arching against him.

  "No more than you yearn to give."

  Her walls were crumbling, the last of the barriers she'd thought would protect her. From the very first, he'd had a hold on her like nothing she'd ever felt. Deep within, a voice cried out: Be done with the games.

  Give or don't give, Jace. The time is now.

  Fingernails lightly grazing his chest, she stroked up his neck, the pads of her fingers exploring his lips as if they were a Braille guide to the rest of her life.

  If she yielded, she might be forever changed. She stared into bottomless depths going dark with his unspoken longing, the same yearning that had been locked away within her so long. "Dante, I—" Fear stabbed deep. He could change her. Destroy her. Then who would she be?

  He merely watched...and waited.

  She'd tried not to ever need anyone, not since her father. "I want to trust you, but I don't know you. How can I?"

  "There is no middle ground. We are linked, you and I, in ways beyond your understanding."

  If she gambled and lost...

  "What of your soul, Dante?"

  He stilled, and his eyes blazed with regret. "That was lost long ago."

  The voice within her clamored louder, insistent. Do it. Or you'll always wonder.

  Praying she'd survive this, she took the leap. "All right, damn you. Yes."

  His eyes blazed with welcome, with relief and hunger...with sorrow. Before she could puzzle over the last, he gripped her wrists. "You are mine, Justine. You belonged to me from the moment we met. Never forget that."

  One stunning thrust joined them.

  The vortex sucked her in, and she tensed—

  Until she realized he was inside it with her. The carpet of stars spilled out before them like a trail, and she was no longer afraid. He was beside her, and the beauty of it was both terrible and achingly sweet. Ribbons of color burst from within her, rolling out into the darkness. A song swirled in the air around them.

  "Oh, God," she gasped. "Dante—" The power of their joining shuddered through her as if she'd touched pure lightning. She dug nails into his back. Gasped as he withdrew. Pressed upward as if she could climb inside his skin. "Dante, where...where are we?"

  "Stay with me, stay with me," he chanted, then a melody spilled from his lips in a language she didn't know.

  And the melding began. A shining edge of fire linked them, surrounded them, suffused them. Drew them on through inky sky bursting with stars, wrapped in the haunting, tender melody that soothed even as it called.

  Daylight and reality would come, and with them, a reckoning.

  But in the stolen, sweet hours of darkness, two lonely hearts, for a time...beat as one.

  * * *

  As her body cooled, Dante loosened his grip on her, turned on his side and studied her.

  "Justine," he said carefully. "Please. Tell me what you see when we touch."

  Unease seized her, and she fell back on reactions she understood. "I see a man who certainly knows his way around a woman's body," she purred, trailing one finger down his chest.

  He captured it. "Do not play your games. This is more important than you can imagine."

  "I'm not playing." But she was, and both of them knew it.

  He simply arched one eyebrow. For a moment they were locked in silent combat. The discussion was one she still wasn't ready for. It all sounded so crazy. "I don't..." She shook her head and winced against the ache in her head she'd forgotten in the moments of bliss.

  Disappointment shadowed those beautiful eyes, and he rose from the bed, removing his warmth. "I'll get you something for that headache."

  Jace grabbed for his hand. "Don't go." She drew away before they touched, shaken. She didn't cling.
Ever. "Never mind."

  "There is much you do not understand." He hesitated, his glance a brief flare of anguish. "And you must. Please stop fighting me on this."

  "Do you want me to tell you that you shake me up? Fine—you make my head spin. You make me see stars and colors—any other clichés you'd like to hear about? Does knowing that I completely lose control and it terrifies me, does that make you feel better?" She stood and donned his shirt, trying to remember where her clothes had gone.

  "No," he said quietly. "It does not. Do you hear the music, as well?"

  "Stop pushing me!" she snapped. But she did, of course, a melody unlike anything she'd ever heard before, so compelling she'd wanted to give chase. To weep at its beauty. "What would it matter if I did?" she asked sullenly.

  "I am not what you think, Justine." His eyes held worlds in them. "And you are not what I expected."

  "Don't be obscure, damn it. Say what you mean." Her head was splitting.

  "You are in pain again. I will be right back."

  "No. Explain first."

  "It is a long story."

  "Give me the TV Guide version."

  "Very well. I am a mage, a Light Walker. I am the protector of a powerful amulet, and it is lost to me. You are the key to finding it. And time is running out."

  Jace stared. Blinked. There are many facets of the ancient world that interest me...I've studied them all over the world. She seized on the one part of his answer she could wrap her mind around. "How could I be a key when I've never heard of any of this?"

  "I do not know. You are...a surprise."

  Okay, she'd danced way out over the edge here, falling into bed with a man who was not only mysterious but possibly a real wacko. With gobs of money. "You have any idea how crazy this sounds?"

  "I do."

  "And that I don't believe in woo-woo crap?"

  "In some ways you are very predictable, Detective." He sighed audibly. "So we are back to this, your refusal to open your mind to any world beyond your limited view."

  "Screw you." Despite her aching head, she whirled and gave him her back. "I'm out of here."

  "Not yet."

  She glanced around her for a handy weapon. Hers was...he'd taken it. She snapped on the armor of control. "Am I a prisoner, then?" she asked with all the contempt she could muster.

  "No. Of course not. I had only hoped..." His shoulders sagged. "I'll get you that remedy for your headache while I call Manolo to pick you up."

  "I'd rather have Earl do so."

  The mask was firmly back in place. "Fine. I will have Manolo call him again, and I will bring your clothes." He donned his own, covering that magnificent body, and she couldn't help a stab of regret that she wouldn't be seeing it again.

  "I'll come with you."

  "Please stay..." He exhaled wearily. "Fine."

  She followed him down one flight of stairs to the tunnel she remembered, noting a second flight that led downward. A hidey hole? A getaway? She would remember it, just in case.

  But he strode ahead of her as though they were on a summer stroll, his body language betraying no ill intent. Still, she would breathe easier once she was out of this tunnel, once she was in Earl's car.

  But as they walked, faint stirrings of grief chided her for ever believing she was bulletproof. She wasn't, and it was deeply unnerving that, despite the woo-woo garbage, when they'd made love, he'd turned her inside out, gone past every safeguard she'd ever possessed. It was little consolation that she'd touched something in him, too.

  And that terrifying sense of being flung outward into the vastness of a sky she'd never seen... She shivered. How did that relate to whatever the hell he was talking about?

  A mage? A powerful amulet? Get real. How could she be any sort of key? Her mother's tales of a grandmother's gifts and Myra's insistence that she possessed otherworldly abilities echoing in her head, she was frantic to get away from all of this.

  She was not that person. Even if she could, she refused to be.

  Where was there room in the Jace she knew for what kept happening to her as Justine?

  Once inside the cabin, she darted for the clothes that were scattered on the floor, trying her hardest to ignore the sofa where she'd lain, mesmerized by his tender touch...the chair where he'd stripped her down to her essence.

  A woman is never more beautiful than when she is transported by hunger...when she loses herself in desire.

  She'd damn sure done that, hadn't she?

  He came to her, the same glass in his hand, the fragrant peppermint leaves floating in water she was parched for.

  She swallowed greedily, savoring as the liquid sluiced down a throat gone dry, a body wrung out from the fury of their mating. "Thank you. Where is the aspirin?"

  "Willow bark contains the same ingredients. I mixed it in."

  She tensed. Exotic poisons... "With what else?"

  "Ah, yes...there's my detective." A rueful smile curved his lips. "Nothing to harm you. You will awaken in the morning and be perfectly healthy and sound, never fear." The dark rings around his soft gray irises could not hold all his shadows at bay. "This will ease you and give you comfort." One finger stroked her face, bringing a sigh to her lips as he traced a pattern over their fullness. "You will sleep deeply."

  Unnerved by the tenderness and sorrow she saw, she resisted the humming of her body, the craving that roared back to life. "You want me to trust you, but you don't do the same."

  "How would you have me demonstrate it?"

  "I want answers, real ones. None of this mystical stuff. Admit that you've seen me before, that you..." She grasped at thoughts slipping away like silvery fishes.

  "I tried, but you did not want to hear them. You dance around what is between us when lives depend upon it."

  "Lives?" she echoed, but her voice sounded far away.

  Then he shifted and in the moonlight, she saw his expression change.

  "What's happening to me?" A tiny tendril of fear arose.

  "I am sorry, Justine. You are a danger as long as you cling to your willful ignorance." His voice turned fierce. "I wish I could find another way, but time is running out."

  She wrinkled her forehead, a low buzz obscuring her ability to think. "I don't understand." Her skin felt hot, her body restless. Stirring, she sought out his touch.

  Dante pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. When he withdrew, she saw eyes filled with pain.

  "You are the key, the Prism, but until you embrace your fate... I should never have touched you. My need for you will make me careless. Vulnerable when I must be strong. Other lives are at stake."

  "Why?" A part of her mind jogged her to move, to escape, but her muscles had become putty. Somehow she couldn’t seem to care. "What—what's wrong?"

  "Easy..." he soothed.

  "Let me—I have to...go." She sought the doorway, but she couldn't make her legs move.

  He lifted her in his arms, and the spinning began again, only this time she couldn't focus, couldn't resist, couldn't...

  "It will be all right. I promise you are safe." She could barely make out a bittersweet smile. "I've simply given you a potion to clear away this night. There are things you must not recollect, that you should not have seen, not as long as you refuse to believe me. When you awaken, all this will be lost to you. If you recall anything, it will be sketchy, like the remnants of a dream."

  "You...the stars...when we touch...how can it be real?" Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears.

  "As long as you cling only to logic and the world you can see, what I've told you is a danger to you and you are a danger to others. The stakes are higher than you can imagine, and forces of evil are gathering. I cannot wait for you to open your eyes to the truth." He drew her against him, and she clung, the only stability in a world that made no sense.

  "Let go, Justine...relax. You will drift...it will be pleasurable, but you will forget." His eyes darkened. "A rich irony, since I will remember forever." Voice mesmerizing and
low, he leaned closer. "When you fall asleep, you'll awaken refreshed."

  He pressed a kiss to her temple, murmuring to her all the while. "Slow, deep breaths...that's right...let go. Let the night slip away."

  Surely he was wrong...she'd remember this, her senses so alive and responsive to his scent, his touch, his voice?

  "Make love to me again, Dante." Was that her voice, so husky, the low purr of desire?

  He shook his head, his face stark with anguish. "No. You do not know what you are saying." His own voice lowered even more, a rumble of male calling to his mate. "I am many things you cannot understand—refuse to understand—but I am not a man who would do that to you. No matter how much I want it." Forcibly he drew his gaze from hers. "I must take you home." He began to walk.

  "Was it you, Dante? At The Club? I thought I'd lost my mind...how did you do it? I've never been like that before."

  "The smoke comes from incense ground from datura, and the strength increases where the smoke is thickest."

  Her head whirled. "So everyone hallucinates...and the aphrodisiac..." Her voice drifted off with her scattered thoughts. It was so hard to concentrate.

  Then memory rose up again. She opened her eyes, staring at him. "You marked me as yours. And we went spinning into that blackness..."

  His eyes turned molten steel. "Don't, Justine."

  "How can you leave me, Dante? How can you turn away?"

  "No more questions." His lips hovered, a breath above hers.

  "No—don't take me home. Don't steal my memory. I trusted you." I'll remember. I swear I will. And I'll ask him again.

  He covered her mouth with his, the kiss a bittersweet benediction, turning hungry, pleading. Both tormented and cherished, Jace drifted off, a low buzz filling her ears.

  "Don't...I want to remember...I need to ask..."

  Just before the soft, swirling clouds claimed her, she heard him speak once more, his voice low and haunted. "I can only pray you will open your mind in time, but for now...I am sorry, Justine. This is the only way I can protect you."

  Chapter Twelve

  Nothing. She remembered not one second of last night. Jace sat at her desk, staring into space, groping for anything at all, while a sick, greasy fear rolled in her belly.