by Brux, Boone
With her last remnants of reason, she tried to tell herself this was purely physical. She’d never wanted love, but now the words rose in her throat and she had to swallow them down. Then Cade deepened the kiss, and all rational thoughts fled her mind.
…
The taste of her was driving him wild. Cade couldn’t believe it was happening at last. How many times over the past days had he cursed himself for making that promise not to touch her? Now, he felt the tension drain from her body as she went boneless in his arms.
His fangs ached with the need to taste her, but he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t let her see all he had become until she admitted her love for him. He tried not to think of it, concentrated instead on his cock, which had been hard since the moment she’d first touched him. He’d meant to take this slowly, take her to his bed, but he knew he couldn’t wait.
His hands slid to her waist, and he lifted her out of the chair to stand before him. He stroked both hands over the swell of her bottom, down the long line of her legs, until they reached the hemline of her skirt. Gripping the material in his fists, he dragged it upward to expose her stocking-clad legs and naked thighs, then lifted her so she sat perched on the edge of the desk, her skirt bunched up around her waist. He wrapped his fingers in the black lace of her panties, ripped them away, and breathed in the warm scent of her arousal perfuming the air.
The tenuous hold he had on his control snapped. His fingers grazed lightly over the warm wetness between her thighs, parting the drenched folds of her sex, finding the swollen nub. He swiped the pad of his thumb over the sensitive flesh, and a moan of pleasure escaped her throat.
“I want you,” he said. He parted her thighs, opening her to him, and pushed one finger inside. She convulsed around him, and he held her in place with a hand on her hips, as he withdrew, then eased inside her again, loving the feel her slick arousal. Finally, he could hold off no longer. He straightened, flicked open the button at his waist, and lowered the zipper. His cock sprang free.
She fell back so she was resting on her elbows, watching him down the line of her body as he stepped up close to her, opened her with unsteady fingers, then sank his cock in her in one hard thrust.
He was back in heaven.
She gasped, but when he made to pull back, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged him closer. He stood for a minute, savoring the feel of her tight muscles wrapping him.
“In all my life,” he murmured, “I have never felt anything so perfect.”
His hands moved to the curve of her hips, and he held her steady while he started to move. He closed his eyes at the exquisite drag of her tight sheath as he withdrew, then pushed back inside. He pumped into her, slow at first as she accustomed herself to him, then picking up speed, the sensations filling his mind until the whole world narrowed to the feel of his cock.
He felt her shudder beneath the impact of his strokes. She was close now, he remembered the way she rubbed her core frantically against him, the tightening of her inner muscles, the wildness of her eyes. He thrust once more, grinding his hips into her, and she imploded around him, screaming his name. He came with her, his head falling back as the pleasure exploded through his cock, his balls, shooting up his spine. It seemed to go on forever, but finally he slumped down and rested his forehead against her breasts, felt her hand move to stroke the hair at the back of his neck.
Peace had eluded him for so long, and now just for a moment, a sense of calm washed over him, pulled him in, engulfed him in its warm embrace.
He straightened and slipped free of her. She appeared dazed, her eyes half-closed, her body boneless. Picking her up, he held her close as he carried her through the door at the back of his office into his private quarters. He sat on the edge of the bed, propped her between his thighs, holding her steady when she swayed, and stripped off the rest of her clothes. Then he laid her gently on the bed and came down beside her.
This time, with the urgency gone, he made love to her slowly, erotically, trailing his lips down over the soft skin of her breasts, his tongue lapping her nipples, sucking gently on the engorged nubs until she arched beneath him. He crawled up her body, wrapped his arms around her, and slid his cock into the tight sheath. As he rocked languorously, the pleasure built inside him. His hips rotated against her swollen, sensitive flesh until she came again and he lost himself in the wonder of making love to her. Afterward he lay on his side watching her sleep, a small smile curving her lips.
His body felt sated but his mind was in turmoil.
Phoebe still hadn’t said she loved him. He’d seen it in her eyes, but she needed to speak the words for the Covenant to be complete. Fear and panic clawed at his insides. He didn’t think he could survive losing her a second time.
These last few days had been a combination of dream and nightmare. Being close, but not touching her. Knowing if he messed up, he could lose her again, this time forever.
His cell phone rang. He picked it up—it was Torr.
“We need to talk now—we have a problem with Bryce.”
Cade had suspected it would come to this. Bryce had been struggling since his own search had failed. Cade hoped he just needed time away and his soul was not returning to the shadows.
How would he fare if Phoebe were lost to him forever? Would he cope any better than Bryce? He doubted it. He sensed the darkness that slept deep inside him stir, and he pushed it down, locked it off. He would not return to the evil ways; he would get Torr to kill him first. He hoped he was strong enough, but he just didn’t know.
Cade stroked a finger along her cheek. She was deep asleep, and he reluctantly got out of bed. He pulled on some clothes and headed out. Pausing at the door, he looked back. Her eyes were open, watching him.
“I have to go,” he said.
“Should I come?”
He shook his head. “There’s no need. This is personal, not business. I shouldn’t be too long—go back to sleep.”
“Cade—”
Something in her voice alerted him. Tension seized his limbs, locking him in place. “Yes?” He held his breath as he waited for her to speak.
She came up on one elbow and pushed her hair from her face. “I—” She broke off and bit her lip.
“What is it?” He could hear the urgency in his own voice.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
Disappointment stabbed him in the gut. He pushed it down and opened the door. “We’ll talk when I get back.”
…
Phoebe stared at the closed door.
She’d been on the point of saying, I love you. The words had hovered on her lips but at the last moment, she’d swallowed them. She didn’t know what held her back. She couldn’t deny—to herself, at least—that she was falling in love with him. And even that wasn’t the truth. In some strange way, she felt as though she had always loved him.
She’d resolved early on in her life that she would never love. She’d freely acknowledged that her decision had been based on fear. The dream had haunted her childhood, until as a teenager she had eventually become ill from lack of sleep. Her father had taken her to a therapist, and with a combination of techniques, the dreams had been banished deep into her subconscious and had remained there until recently. She’d thought they had been forgotten, but now she realized how much they had shaped her life. She’d never been scared of love, but of loving and losing.
The last few days had turned her world upside down. She was still scared, but her feelings for Cade were too intense to ignore. They drowned out the fear. All the same, it was unsurprising that she would balk at this last hurdle—saying the words out loud.
Now she thought about walking away from Cade, and a sharp pain pierced her heart. It was already too late.
When he got back, she would tell him she loved him. And see where they went from there. She would learn to cope with the fear.
She couldn’t sleep, though. Instead, she climbed out of bed. Cade’s blue silk shirt lay across the
chair. Phoebe picked it up, held it to her nose. For a minute, she breathed in the scent of him then she shrugged into it, smoothing the silk against her sensitized skin.
This must be Cade’s apartment; she hadn’t even realized it existed. Now she explored the rooms. It was beautifully—if sparsely—furnished, the décor masculine with little in the way of superfluous decoration. He liked neutral shades, with bold splashes of color.
Phoebe wandered through the open-plan living area, found the kitchen, and walked through a door into a small windowless room. There was no furniture other than a single straight-backed chair, positioned facing the wall. And on the wall hung a huge painting. It was the first painting she had seen in the apartment, and she moved closer to look.
The picture showed a woman in a simple red tunic dress, her long blond hair in a braid down her back. Her face was lifted to the sky, and she was smiling, her dark brown eyes filled with love.
Across the top of the painting was written the name: Eleni.
Phoebe reached up to touch her own face as she took in the features of the woman in the painting. Identical to her own.
A cold solid lump congealed in her stomach, and bile rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down. There would be an explanation. She sank into the chair and stared for long minutes searching the woman’s face. There was no doubt; it was like looking into a mirror.
She was a perfect image of Cade’s dead wife.
It all made sense now. That first day in Afghanistan, he’d stared straight into her eyes as though he recognized her, but it hadn’t been Phoebe he’d seen. That was why he had reacted to her, probably why he had saved her. He had arranged this whole charade because she reminded him of his wife.
Did he have any feelings for her at all?
No.
It wasn’t Phoebe he wanted, but this Eleni. He had even said her name when he kissed her that first time.
Phoebe was nothing but a substitute for his dead wife.
Why was she so surprised? She had suspected something wasn’t right. His feelings had been too quick, too intense. Deep down she’d known there was something else going on.
Swiping away the tears, she allowed the anger to build inside her. Anger was better than the pain tearing at her heart. Suddenly, she was fiercely pleased that she hadn’t told him she loved him.
…
“I have to do this,” Bryce said. “I’ve tried, but I can’t stay here.”
“We can help you.” Cade wasn’t sure he spoke the truth. He’d known this was coming. The darkness had awoken when they had been torn from the women they loved and thrown into the Abyss. Lilith had shown them how to focus the power, how to use it for destruction and chaos.
And for many years, they had reveled in that madness, rampaging across the earth in their need for revenge. Only the revelation that perhaps there was a chance they could win back the women they loved had returned them to sanity.
Now the darkness slumbered in all of them, and they did what they could to gain some hope of redemption and the chance to be whole again.
But Bryce had failed his own testing, and his wife had been lost to him forever. Now he fought the darkness constantly. How could you fight the demons when they were inside you?
“I’m beyond your help and I won’t bring you down with me.” Bryce turned to Torr. “No mortal man can harm me. No mortal weapon can end my life. But you can.”
Sadness pulled at Cade—Bryce wanted to die. How bad the pain must have become. He glanced at Torr, saw the same sadness in his friend’s eyes, followed swiftly by resolve. Suddenly the humanity was gone and Torr stood before them in his real guise, a demon of the Abyss—The Destroyer. Black wings curved at his shoulders, his yellow eyes glowed feral. A huge sword hung at his back, and he drew it in one fluid move. He took a single step toward Bryce and pressed the tip of the sword to his throat. “You really want it all to end?”
Bryce nodded. The movement pressed the sword against his skin and a bead of crimson welled from the small wound. The sweet scent of blood tinged the air.
Cade held his breath.
Torr lowered the sword. “I won’t end your life now. But if you come back to me one year from today and you still wish me to do this…so be it.”
Torr stepped back and the demon was gone. He moved to the other man, clasped him close, then released him. “Go.”
As Bryce turned to leave, the door was flung open and Phoebe stood in the entrance. She was wearing his shirt, but had pulled on her skirt and boots, her blond hair hung loose about her shoulders, her legs were astride, her eyes flashing. Something had obviously happened since he had left her curled up sleepily in bed, and his mind searched for what it could be. Nothing could have harmed her in this building.
He was aware that the whole room was watching them, and he shifted uncomfortably. He’d have preferred this conversation alone, but could hardly ask Torr to leave his own office, and Phoebe didn’t look particularly amenable right now. “Phoebe, what is it? What’s happened?”
She seemed to become aware that they weren’t alone and she looked around the room, her eyes widening as they took in his brothers. Then she gritted her teeth, and he could see the resolve hardening in her expression.
“I saw the painting.”
For a moment, his mind didn’t make the connection. “Painting?”
“Of your wife. Of Eleni.”
Shock hit him in the gut. Why hadn’t he thought of that? The answer came almost immediately—because his mind had been on other things. There were no locked doors in this building. If you weren’t supposed to be there, you would never get in. He hadn’t even thought to hide the painting.
He stared at her, trying to see what was in her eyes. Behind the anger, he could detect a pain she was obviously trying her best to hide. He wanted to drag her into his arms, comfort her. He couldn’t say the words, but he could show her that he loved her. He turned to look at the others. Torr nodded, and they all filed out of the office. Torr rested his hand on his arm as he passed, and Cade felt the strength flowing through him from the contact.
“It’s not what you think,” he said as the door clicked shut behind them.
“How do you know what I think?” she snapped.
“It’s obvious you’re angry, but you’re also hurt, and there’s no need.”
“No need? You come on to me strong, and I’m thinking there’s something odd here. Now, I know what. I’ve just discovered that I’m the exact image of your dead wife. Is that a coincidence, Cade?”
“It’s not a coincidence.”
“Then tell me what it is, because I can’t come up with any other reason than you’re fixated on a dead woman.”
He gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides while his mind worked furiously. He couldn’t tell her the truth because it would break the Covenant. And not only would he lose her forever, but all of his brothers would be banished back to the Abyss and Lilith.
She watched him, and he saw the sadness fill her eyes. “There is no other reason, is there?”
“It’s not like that. I can’t explain right now, but just stay with me, just for one more day, and I’ll show you what you mean to me.” He took a step toward her, and she backed away from him until she came up against the closed door. She held up her hand, and he forced himself to come to a halt a foot away from her, when everything inside him wanted to take hold of her and refuse to let her go. “Just one day, Phoebe.”
She bit her lower lip and stared over his shoulder. Finally, her gaze returned to his face. “Tell me one thing.”
Cade took a deep breath and nodded. But inside he knew the question she was about to ask and the answer he had to give and fear knotted in his gut.
“Do you still love her?”
The question pierced him. He couldn’t lie, not about this. “Yes.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say.”
He stepped toward her, reached out a hand on her arm. “Please, Phoebe,
one day, then if you still want to go, I won’t stop you.”
She shook off his hand. “I can’t. I can’t risk it. What happens when you realize that I’m not her? Because you will. Then where will I be?” She licked her lips. “I’ve spoken to my editor. I’ve told him you’re clean, that there’s no story here. I’m flying back to Afghanistan tomorrow. I need to get some things sorted, so…” She shrugged. “Good-bye, Cade.”
Chapter Seven
Day Five
Phoebe bolted upright in the hard plastic chair. She searched frantically around her. She was in the departure lounge at Heathrow airport. Everything appeared normal—no one had screamed her name. It was just a dream.
She must have dozed off—it would be the first time she had slept since she’d left Cade. She rubbed her gritty eyes and glanced at her watch. Not long now, and she would be boarding. At the thought, the grief she had been holding at bay rose up inside her, engulfing her, squeezing her heart in a vise-like grip.
She closed her eyes and she was back in her dream. This time when she opened her mouth, it was Cade’s name she cried out. It was Cade who was torn from her arms, and her soul ripped from her body because he was gone.
She blinked, and she was back in the airport, but it had seemed so real, and in that moment, she knew there was no point in running. It was already too late.
Go back.
The words whispered through her tortured mind.
The feeling was so familiar; the same pain had haunted her all her life. Except this was different. In her dream, she’d had no choice—she’d been bound to a stake, and unable to go to the one she loved. Now there was nothing binding her except her own fear. But what was the point in running away if she carried the pain within her? What was the point in denying her love? It didn’t diminish that love in any way.
And she did love him.
Maybe he had only come after her because she looked like his wife. That didn’t mean that was all he saw. She would make him see her. Make him love her. And if she failed, she could hardly feel worse than she did now.
