by KH LeMoyne
She had been so certain if she joined with him, they would both feel the connection. She had. Even after the initial shock and pain of penetration had passed, he had gently cajoled her body to respond in pleasure, had held her in his arms through the night. His actions weren’t those of a callous playboy. She had no way to gauge whether he was the same with all women, but she wanted to be special. To believe she meant as much to him as he did to her.
The act of making love didn’t seal him to her. His actions of care and concern did.
He had serious cracks where his caring and compassion shone through. He’d erected rules and boundaries to fight against some age-old damage. Yet the man had an ability to give and protect ingrained in him as well. Was what they shared enough of a beginning for him to meet her halfway? Could she live with only half of him, even if he couldn’t come to terms with wanting her as she wanted him? Committing to her, as she would always be to him? Forgoing the remainder of her covenant?
And did she really have the energy to make love with him again? That question conjured a slow smile. She felt his hand stroked the skin beneath her breast. Hmmm, definitely. But not here.
She threw back the comforter and grabbed for her robe. He reached for her and missed.
“Hey, my pillow.”
“What, you want to snuggle?” With a laugh, she threw him his jeans. “Come on. I want to share something with you. Hurry.”
She was almost to the top of the lighthouse when he caught her. “No fair, longer legs,” she yelped.
“All the better to snag you with, my pretty.” He pulled her close and she watched while he turned and scrutinized the room.
The three hundred sixty degree glass enclosure converted sixty years before, sported windows reaching from waist height to the ceiling. The room, empty of the lighthouse lamp and lens for many years now, housed only a chart table before the seaward windows.
The panoramic view of the coastline and sea was slowly turning from muted forms of grey to deepened colors painted with hues of rose and silver. Briet turned her head to watch the sun’s first rays peak across the horizon, that moment of dusk to bright, quiet and hallowed.
“Beautiful,” he said.
She squealed as he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto the chart table. Her robe slid apart as she grabbed for the lapels.
“No. No. I want my dawn sacrifice, bare and covered in gold.” He laughed, pushed the robe down her shoulders, and kissed along her skin.
Two could play at this.
She stroked her fingers along his bare chest. His muscles flexed beneath her touch. She ringed her fingertips around his nipples. The sharp intake of his breath vibrated beneath her touch and elicited a surge of satisfaction. A sense of power from creating desire and pleasure, so foreign, yet so compelling, snaked through her body. With a slight turn, she traced her tongue over the same path, tasting his skin and the hint of salt coupled with the light scent of male musk. His nipple hardened beneath her tongue as a slow hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth.
Confident and a little more daring, she slid her hand to the front of his jeans and covered his erection. A low growl vibrated across his chest beneath her lips, but his hands had stilled against her back. With the button popped and the zipper gingerly lowered, she had his warm, hard flesh prized in her hand, a tool for delicious torture. She let her hand slide down to the base of him and back to the tip. In a slow sweep, her thumb pressed across the flared head and slit, slicking the drops of fluid there around in circles as her tongue teased across his chest.
“Jeez—” His hand clasped over hers squeezing harder as she pumped and then quickly released to dig in his pocket. “You are my sacrifice. Not the other way around.”
In two quick moves, he sheathed himself with a condom and lowered her shoulders to the table. His eyes glinted with the brilliance of the sunrise. He blazed a path over her with his gaze, desire written in the flair of his nostrils and the firm stroke of his fingers on her flesh.
“Golden. Nubile. Edible.” He bent his head to suck in her nipple hard and release it with a pop. His fingers delved between her legs and parted her more gently than his harsh look implied. He sank into her to stroke, the friction and movement eliciting a long, low moan from deep inside her.
She watched him from beneath half-closed eyelids. Shame stood no chance against the blatant arousal he spiked within her. His smile was wicked, pleased to produce her response and she now had a taste of that power. He withdrew his fingers and teased her with his erection.
No. Not teased. Promised. Lifting her legs, she gripped his hips and rubbed her thigh against the emerging mark circling his left thigh and hip. Had he even noticed?
She pulled down on his shoulders until he sank into her, full, but not nearly enough. He held back, his forearms framing her body as his eyes searched her face.
His hips shifted and moved against her, stroking tender flesh. With each plunge into her body, his eyes watched her, one palm flush against her neck, his fingers cradling her jaw. She leaned into his hand and pressed up to meet his thrusts.
Then the devious attentive man that he was, reached with his other hand to tease at the mark on her body, his thumb swirling over her flesh. Sparks of fire coiled deep in her belly, full fevered and strung tight. He moved faster. Her nerves sang and her moans grew louder until she peaked, unable to hold back his name from her lips. His climax erupted on the heels of her own, his roar of her name louder but no less intense, then he dropped his forehead to rest against hers.
With a kiss to her nose, he slowly withdrew from her body. “Thank you for the wonderful beginning to the day.”
Pulling the robe back around herself, she smiled, slid from the table, and padded down the stairs to stand in the middle of the bedroom. Now what?
She could hear him clean up in the bathroom and felt his presence behind her.
With a quick sweep, he swept her in his arms and bounced on the bed, protecting her fall. Suddenly covered by his body, she had no desire to move. He swept away the robe and grabbed the comforter. Diving beneath, he snuggled against her stomach. “Now, back to my warm pillow.”
Her fingers furrowed in his hair and clasped her to him as she closed her eyes to the golden hue of the morning between the curtains. She smiled to herself. Yes, blatant, decadent, and addictive. But for how long?
CHAPTER 16
Briet folded into her apartment’s kitchen. Travel through space in seconds was much easier than dealing with Jason’s car, which was why she’d encouraged him to leave before she did, before he felt too caged by the pleasure of their weekend. She caught her breath and leaned her forehead against the refrigerator door. The cool stainless steel did nothing to dispel the heat from her memories of the past two days. Did he harbor these same thoughts?
Only time would tell if she would be any different in Jason’s mind from the women of his past, but she would carry a part of him with her forever.
“Distractions mean the difference between life and death.”
She spun around, surprised by Ansgar’s presence and the unusually harsh tone in his voice. He stood no more than a foot away, the scowl on his face buried deep in the furrow between his brows.
“I’m hardly at risk in my own home.”
His expression grew darker. “You think not?” he said, almost yelling at her as he stepped back and waved a hand, gesturing to the open view of her living room.
Her breath stuck in her throat at the destruction littered across the small space.
Books were strewn across the floor. Opened and broken, glass frames lay smashed. Artwork hung at odd angles on walls. Legs of the small end tables reached for the ceiling instead of gracing the floor, their drawers pulled, and contents dumped. Lamps were tossed, their shades torn. Even her stuffed chair and couch had been ripped, stuffing strewn across the carpet, pillows spread in bits and tatters.
“Why would anyone do this?” She jammed shaky fingers into her pants pocket to k
eep a small measure of control.
“Human thieves? Seeking money or valuables?” Ansgar braced his arms over his chest and glared at her. “I’m torn between wondering where the hell you’ve been and thanking heaven that you weren’t here.”
Briet blinked, all euphoria from the weekend sucked away by a growing chill and the sick sense of violation. “I went to the lighthouse.”
“When did you leave?”
“Friday night, sometime after eight.”
Ansgar grunted. “Gather what you need. I want you to come back to the Sanctum tonight while I take care of this and get a new door, new locks.”
She shook her head in denial and glanced to the front door. Splinters of wood stuck out at odd angles from the inside of the frame where force had caused the deadbolt to give way. A saw had attempted to cut it free of the doorframe. No casual break-in. “I’m going to the hospital tonight. I have to check in on my patients. I’ll be safe there.”
He looked prepared to argue the point.
“There’s a cot in the doctor’s lounge, plenty of people around. I’ll stay there until you’re done. I’ve done it before. Really, I’ll be okay.”
His one curt nod was better than an argument. “I’ll fold with you to the hospital. You will meet with me tomorrow so we can talk about this in more detail.”
Suddenly, her older commanding brother was again in full protection mode, brooking no argument.
“Lunch?” Her voice fell off into silence as she took in the room again. She wanted to balk at Ansgar’s security measures, but he was right. The room spoke for itself. She would be wise to heed his advice and lay low. At least until this phase of the trial completed next week. “We can meet over lunch.”
The destruction was senseless, no benefit from the tossed furniture and broken items. What had this person been after? She never brought her work home, and the apartment lacked all but the barest of personal items, but the culprits wouldn’t have known in advance. Even if she had kept the blood samples here, no human could detect the DNA changes. Welson might not be happy with her persistence, but there was no reason they or anyone at the hospital would feel threatened by anything she’d done.
Had she been home, she could have fought, but so much destruction seemed unlikely for a single invader. Two at least. With that thought, the shiver previously in her hands delved deep into her bones, gripping and uncontrollable.
Ansgar’s arms closed around her, pulling her to him. She leaned into the safe haven of her brother’s chest. Her shaking lessened in his hold. The tension eased slightly from his arms, but neither of them was okay.
He must have been frantic, finding the apartment this way.
Definitely not the time to tell him about Jason.
***
The Short Stack was crowded with the lunch hour rush. Jason grabbed his coffee and sandwich, planning to head back to the office when he saw a familiar head of silky blond layers seated by the window.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed her companion. Already in motion, he was halfway to the table before his brain kicked in. Rational thought hadn’t stood a chance against the swift, unfamiliar twist of jealously spiraling in his gut.
In the three steps it took to approach her, he’d made a quick assessment of the man opposite Briet. The man’s head was only six inches from her face. The two were having an animated discussion, which seemed to require her to touch his hands. Large hands and equally large shoulders were less of a deterrent than they should have been. Jason stood before the table and waited for her to notice.
It took ten seconds. Ten seconds less would barely have satisfied him.
“Jason.”
“Briet.” Jason turned to the man openly scowling at him and held out his hand. “Jason Ballard. Don’t mean to interrupt. I was just coming to set up a time to talk to Briet later and figured better now than miss her.”
When the man didn’t immediately reach for Jason’s hand, Briet squeezed the hand she’d held and moved back from their intimate position. “This is my brother, Ansgar.”
Brother. The blood pulsing in Jason’s ears started to fade. Yes, he saw some similarity.
“Jason and I work together.”
He snapped a quick look of surprise at her and stomped down a surge of annoyance before he turned to greet the man who had unfurled from the seat.
Swallowing his reaction, he forced a detached appraisal. Now wasn’t the time to buckle under to one of the tribe—the term Briet kept using for her makeshift family. Tribe described this one well. In her discussions of her brother, Jason had pictured him as gentle and long-suffering. A man she deemed worthy of finding someone special to settle down with forever.
Better be one tough woman with a big bullwhip.
The brother had several inches over his six-foot-four inch height, taller but leaner, except for those shoulders and forearms. Then there was attitude in the dark, threatening gaze.
Ironic. The genetics were similar. Both brother and sister shared the expressive brown eyes and multi-hued blond hair, but all parallels stopped there.
Briet held warmth in her eyes and a bit of defiance in her short locks. Ansgar’s gaze was purely hostile and the long blond braid down his back hinted at a harsher level of rebellion. The look, the attempt to physically interpose himself in front of Briet, was clearly a sign of hostility, a direct contradiction to the hand he offered Jason. The posturing implied a threat. Jason didn’t move.
He held his ground, painfully aware his behavior was confrontational and defensive. He didn’t care. Some primitive part of him declared the stand was necessary.
Seeing Briet touch another man was not a circumstance he’d considered. Especially after the weekend they’d spent together. His reaction was volatile and intense, even by his own assessment. It had been more years than he could count since he’d had to rein in emotions. It felt uncomfortably like a tidal wave let loose.
Backing down now wasn’t an option. First impressions were critical and there would be no coming back from losing ground here, even as he realized his response implied a much stronger commitment with Briet than he had intended to show.
“You’re one of the doctors at the hospital?” Ansgar pressed his hand a little tighter before letting go.
“Jason runs the project for the Welson laboratories.”
Ansgar cocked a brow with a smirk. “A pencil pusher?”
Jason held back a laugh. Better to be underestimated. There would be more room to manipulate with lame assumptions. “Something like that.”
Ansgar glanced at his sister and shrugged at her frown. He seemed truly perplexed as to why she might be annoyed with him. At least he wasn’t the only one to get that look.
“I’m heading out for an exhibition game later this afternoon and wondered if you’d like to come? You’d said you’d never seen a rugby game.” He posed his question to Briet and ignored her brother’s openly hostile stance.
Ansgar hadn’t moved, legs apart, hands in pockets as if counting the minutes until Jason left.
“I thought you weren’t playing these days.” She tilted her head at him and narrowed her eyes toward her brother in a sideways warning.
She’d remembered. “It’s a charity event. They ran short of players and at the last minute asked me to fill in. I can handle one game.”
“I would enjoy it.” She seemed to be making a point not to look at her brother.
“You’re welcome to come, too.” Jason purposefully ran his gaze over Ansgar’s physique until the brother’s eyebrows became one thick, mean line. “If you’re familiar with the game, they could use another player.”
“How hard can it be?”
With a wicked sense of satisfaction, Jason nodded. He might have to spend the night soaking in a tub of Ben Gay, but if Ansgar had never played rugby, the man was in for one tough workout. More than worth any amount of pain.
“Great. I can meet you both at the back entrance of the hospital at five. The facility has sho
wers and the team provides jerseys.”
“We’ll meet you there.”
Briet gave him a bright smile. If her brother hadn’t audibly growled, Jason would have at least brushed her hand or found some way to touch her. However, the room was crowded and he didn’t want a brawl. Instead, he gave her a nod and Ansgar a glance before he left.
Briet rolled her lips and risked a look at her brother. “Are you going to sit back down or just stand there drawing attention to yourself?”
With an exaggerated exhale, he sank back in to the chair. “You can do better.”
“Thanks. I so need your input. For your information Jason is just as annoying about watching out for me as you are.”
Crap. She held back a sigh as Ansgar’s eyebrow shot up. She really needed to learn when to stop speaking.
“What need would he have to watch out for you?”
She took a deep breath and prepared to recount the less significant details of Sheri’s accident.
***
Jason pulled alongside the parked vehicles on the street outside the hospital’s rear exit. Ansgar stood waiting, a small duffle slung over his shoulder. To look more bored would have been difficult. Jason stifled a comment as Ansgar swung open the door and curled his body into the passenger seat of the sports car.
“Briet’s still with a patient. She said to send her the address and she’ll come later if she can.”
He certainly hoped so. Quality time with her brother wasn’t what Jason had in mind. He drove down the street, heading for the interstate exit for north of the city. “So, you’re in town visiting?”
