Prince of Shadows
Page 14
What could Brigit do to save her? Kendra had made her choice when she left the relative safety of New Orleans to return to this dangerous captivity. She’d done so in order to protect the man she’d adored all her adult years, who was not, despite Brigit’s promises, coming to rescue her. Who, even though he admittedly cherished her, felt none of the blazing desire to have her that fired in Cale Terriot’s eyes. Silas was driven by purpose, not passion, and for the moment, his dedication didn’t include making good on their platonic vows. She could wait until she became a priority, if that ever happened, or she could accept and explore her current situation.
Tonight she’d seen a glimmer of that good man Cale claimed he wanted to be. With her at his side.
Give him something.
She could hear her cousin’s advice. Stall, tease, distract. She lacked Brigit’s instinctive way with men, the gift that let her charm and toy with them without ever giving away anything of herself. That wasn’t her way, but an idea took root. If she were doing the giving on her own terms, Cale would be less likely to do the taking on his own. And then, perhaps, they could meet in a satisfying middle.
Cale stood in the shadowed doorway. Before him was everything he’d ever wanted, there for the taking, but for the first time in a long time, he was afraid to make a move.
A blush of moonlight filtered down from the skylight to bathe Kendra’s sleeping form in a tender halo. So beautiful that it hurt him to look upon her while dark, urgent thoughts prowled. His gaze adored the relaxed innocence of her features, the way her fair hair rippled across the pillow like silk. No protective bulk of fleece tonight. Something silky and shimmering detailed the contours of her graceful shape.
His soft exhale of longing was tempered by the fisting of hands that still shook despite all he’d done to flush the herbs from his system.
He’d partied like a rock star at the club, moving with a manic energy to the pounding music with every female in the room while his thoughts were filled with one. He’d made Daryl stop halfway up the mountain to let him out so he could run the rest of the way, but the frantic, growling aggression kept pace.
With a dangerous fervor, he’d stalked through the woods where he’d almost lost his life, this time devouring anything warm-blooded that crossed his path, and still he starved for more. He wailed and howled up at the heavens until his voice was gone, yet the beast inside him screamed above his guilt over the brothers who had died. For Michael. For Derrick.
Finally, he made his way back to the lodge, exhausted, dripping with sweat, strung so tightly that every muscle quivered like a drawn bowstring. He couldn’t keep himself away any longer. His need had intensified into an agony of desire and regret.
Tony was where he was instructed to be, guarding the lodge inside the warm interior of the Escalade. When the bodyguard joined him to advise that he’d tucked Kendra safely inside, Cale saw a protective reluctance in Tony’s eyes as he stepped aside to let his ragged and trip-wired prince pass. Her scent drew him inexorably where he shouldn’t go, where he couldn’t trust himself to be. Close enough to be a threat to her. Because promises had yet to be sealed with a bond.
She stirred in her sleep, murmuring softly, rolling onto her back. That slippery gown whispered across her breasts and hips the way his hands yearned to. He watched her take unhurried breaths, unaware of how harsh and forceful his own had become.
Take her!
It was the way his family did things. Swift, purposeful action, necessarily brutal, to take and hold what was theirs. His queen, beside him. His heirs, inside her.
That dizzying heat returned, scalding his brain, flaming through his body in a shuddering rush. An inferno of raw, violent determination.
She’s yours by her own vow. Claim her!
She shifted within that seductive wrap of silk, and all he could think of was tearing it off her, tearing into her, feeling the warmth of her body, tasting her blood, exulting in the glorious relief of joining with her beautiful spirit.
Staining it. Bruising it. Violating it the way Michael had thought to. Crushing it along with her trust and any love she might ever have felt for him.
“Cale?”
The cool touch of her voice pierced through the pounding rage of his intentions. He faded back into shadow, silently withholding his presence from her until she settled back to sleep. Then he blindly reeled with a soul-drunk anguish into the living room, where he collapsed upon the couch.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Instead of quickly leaving his system the way it always had, the organic rush burned through him, scorching his nerves and muscles instead of augmenting them. His sweat was dry on his skin, every drop of moisture cooked from him as the fever continued to spike. He couldn’t catch his breath. His heart raced until he wondered with a detached vagueness if it meant to explode.
And in his spinning mind, he thought of poison, of poison meant to kill him.
He hadn’t returned.
In the warm pooling sunlight, Kendra glanced about in sinking dismay. Cale hadn’t come back. Nothing had been disturbed since she’d lain back upon the covers to wait for him.
His absence was unexpectedly wounding, but the reason behind it filled her with unease. Would another Terriot prince be moving in today to replace him? If that were the case, she could anticipate no mercy or restraint. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the brutal sight of Bram Terriot growling over her mother’s back. Was that what she had to look forward to in the next few hours?
If she ran, would she have the slightest chance of escape?
If you don’t accept my protection, I can’t help you.
She’d never get off the mountain intact, perhaps not even alive. Struggling with that panicked certainty, Kendra slipped from the bed and moved anxiously into the outer room. She came to an abrupt halt at the sight that greeted her. The prayer of relief whispered from her, soft and shaky.
Cale was sprawled on the floor with one booted foot on the sofa cushions, showing every indication of a hard, hellacious night. His closed eyes were sunken and deeply shadowed, his hair stiff with dried sweat. More bloodstains covered his skin and torn clothing; perhaps he’d found more debts that needed settling. She was guiltily pleased to note that no female scent was attached to him. He didn’t stir as she crossed the room.
Carefully, she moved his foot and settled on the couch. Since he was lying along the bottom of it, she reclined on the cushions, resting her head on her arm as she studied him.
Cale Terriot. Treasured friend from childhood or terrorizing intimidator from the not so distant past? The lines between the two confusingly blurred. There were moments when he’d smile and the surfacing sweetness would stir in her all sorts of buried emotions, leaving her dangerously vulnerable. Then that expressionless mask would drop into place, the one he wore when about his father’s business, and from behind it he could deal out a stunning degree of viciousness, as if morality never registered. Both sides fed upon her loneliness, upon the restlessness of late-blooming sexuality.
Was she seriously considering staying with him? About bonding as his life’s mate?
That would mean remaining here, locked away from a world she’d hoped to enjoy, a pampered prisoner, but prisoner nonetheless. Sharing every little intimate detail of her days and nights with this quixotic man she didn’t understand. Trusting him to care for her, to protect and cherish her.
Then there was the sex. And that, she guessed, would be frequent and vigorous whenever and wherever he was in the mood. Just thinking about it quickened the curious stir in her center. Before she could stop herself, she put her fingertips to his cheek. And gasped as he caught her wrist roughly.
His eyes flashed open, seeming more incredibly pale and beautiful against the shaded bruising surrounding them. Once he recognized her, his words were rough. “Probably not a good idea to startle me when I’m sleeping.”
“I’ll make a note.” Kendra withdrew her hand when he released it, rubbing at he
r abraded wrist while he rolled his head away and laid his forearm across his eyes. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have reason to wake you.”
That flat tone deflated fragile hopes. Kendra swallowed hard. A forlorn prickle of pride refused to let her beg him. “It should only take a few minutes to pack up my things.”
“What?” His gaze flew up to meet hers, eyes wide and round and filled with a tumble of complex emotion. “You’re leaving?”
“Isn’t that what you want?”
“No.” He drew a quick, jerky breath. “Do you want me to?”
The last thing she’d expected was for him to place that kind of power in her hands, but he delivered it without any hesitation. Kendra sat up and carefully weighed her next words. “I can’t stay if I’m afraid of you.” She gave that time to settle in. His stare, so intense and still, was riveted to hers. “There have to be rules.”
A quick blink. “You’re giving me rules?”
She heard his arrogant claim in her head. I’m a Terriot prince. I do whatever the hell I want. But she didn’t back down. “Someone has to, Cale.”
“So,” he ventured carefully, “what are they?”
She hadn’t expected him to listen or be receptive, if only tentatively. Shocked, she wasn’t sure how to proceed except to plunge right in. “No more taking whatever it is you took last night. It makes you into something that scares me.”
“All right.”
She stumbled at his acquiescence. “I know it helps your sight and gives you the advantage you think you need—”
“It doesn’t matter. What else?”
“I don’t want to be your prisoner. I need some freedom.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “To do what?”
“To have friends, someone to talk to. If I’m going to fit in here and be of any help to you, I need to make friends, allies, among the other females.”
“I already have a lot of friends and allies among the other females,” he drawled. When she simply stared and said nothing, he capitulated with a gruff “Fine. Make your friends. I don’t want you to be unhappy or lonely. I just want you to be safe.”
“I won’t be safe with the other women here?”
A smirk. “You don’t know them as well as I do.” A sigh. “All right. What else?”
“I want to contact my family.” She knew that would be a sticking point.
His expression grew coolly suspicious. “No.”
“Cale, they’re all I have.” She had to get this concession from him. Without the link to her past, her sense of self would be gone. She put all of that into a single word. “Please.”
He didn’t react for a long tense moment, then said, “After we’re bonded.”
“I thought you trusted me.”
“Trusting and stupid aren’t the same thing. After.” When she stared down at her hands, he said, “Kendra, look at me.” When her gaze lifted, he repeated, “After.”
She nodded. “All right.”
He studied her again through those intensely distant eyes, forcing her to continue.
“I made you promises. I led you to believe certain things that I couldn’t follow through on even though . . . I wanted to. I don’t think I’ve ever respected anyone as much as I do you right now for not forcing things.”
For a long moment, he didn’t breathe. Then a quick snort. “Yeah. I’m a prince.” He rolled his head away, eyes closing. “Don’t give me credit I don’t deserve.”
“You deserve everything I’ve promised you. And I will make good on that if you’ll give me one thing. A little more time.”
A crooked smile moved his lips. “To what? Learn to love me? What are we talking here? Months? Years? A lifetime?”
“Time for us to get to know each other. Let me get close. I want to feel safe with you so I can be the mate you deserve.”
His smile narrowed slightly. “How would this work?”
“We’d talk, learn about each other.”
“Things like do I like piña coladas and walks in the rain?”
She smiled. “You’d ask me something, anything you want, and I’d answer truthfully.”
“Nothing off-limits?”
“Nothing. And I’d do the same.”
“Just talking?”
“And touching,” she added with an awkward blush. “We need to get to know each other that way, too.”
A slow heat kindled in his stare. “I like to talk, and I like to touch you. Any other rules?”
“One question a night, one body area at a time. And you can’t jump right into my pants first thing.”
He flashed a grin that made her all shivery inside. “I’m sure I can find other things of interest. Anything else?”
“We agree to stop if one of us is uncomfortable.”
He was still smiling. “Think you’re going to ask me something that will make me blush? Or that there’s any place I don’t want to feel your hands on me?”
“I’m asking you to go slow because everything you’ll be doing is a first time for me, and I want to enjoy it, not be afraid of it.”
His throat moved with a jerky swallow. “I can do that.” He drew a tight breath and let it out noisily. “Once we chart these new territories, can we revisit them whenever we like?” His question was innocent enough, though a glint in his eyes should have warned her.
“I suppose so.”
He caught her arm and pulled her off the couch to land on top of him. Before she could react to the surprise, he’d lifted up to kiss her. And she was lost.
fourteen
Kendra closed her eyes, thinking of that dark shed with its scent of peat and her first taste of pleasure. Of those innocent stirrings of love and tender curiosity and Cale’s willingness to let her explore, both then and now.
It was then that Kendra realized she was kissing him and not just responding to him. She held Cale’s face between her palms, fingertips sketching over his cheekbones, over the scar their past had left upon him, while his hands gripped the edge of the couch and coffee table. His eyes were open, regarding her with a mixture of caution and surprise.
The sound of the front door lock clicking open and the rattling of their breakfast tray intruded on the moment.
“Am I interrupting something?” Wesley called, tapping belatedly on the doorframe as he followed their meal inside.
Kendra imagined how they looked, on the floor, wedged between the couch and the table, with her silk-covered fanny in the air and Cale’s hands flailing in search of something other than her to grab on to. He finally managed to lift up, her weight riding his chest, so he could glower at his brother. “I don’t recall saying ‘come in.’ ”
Wes grinned. “I apologize if that was what you were hoping to hear. Good morning, Princess. Cale, we need to talk.”
Kendra backed off her supine prince, embarrassingly aware of her clinging sleepwear. They scrambled up, Cale standing well inside her comfort zone, his palm at the small of her back, his eyes, as deep and gray as a stormy morning, fixed on hers. “I’ll be only a minute, baby,” he murmured hopefully, bending to press a kiss on her bare shoulder.
She stepped back. “Take your time.”
Cale watched her leave the room, his gaze following the way the fabric moved over her truly spectacular ass. His mood darkened when he caught his brother taking similar note. “What do you want, Wes?” he grumbled. “I assume it’s more than just the chance to eyeball my female.”
“I don’t see your mark on her yet.”
“That would be a lot easier to accomplish if I didn’t have so damned much family around all the time.” He dropped down at the table, pointedly not inviting his brother to join him, and went for the coffee. He pulled back when he saw how shaky his hand was. Everything about him was jittery and on edge now that he was upright, and it continued to alarm him. In fact, he’d been grateful to wake up at all. He settled for protein instead of caffeine, choosing the least coo
ked strips of bacon to eat with his fingers.
“You left yesterday before anyone could talk to you,” Wes noted.
The somber tone had Cale glancing up. “What did I miss?”
“It would have been Derrick’s funeral, but the old man wanted to wait for you.”
Cale pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily. “He didn’t have to do that. He shouldn’t have waited.”
“He figured it was necessary. Considering how it might look if you weren’t there.”
“How would it look? Like I was guilty of something? I didn’t have any problem showing up to memorialize the other brother I admittedly killed.”
“He wants to meet with all of us after the ceremony.”
“To demand another pound of flesh? I don’t have that much left to give. I had nothing to do with that boy dying. Hell, I’d be dead, too, if Row hadn’t stepped up.”
“It’s more than that. What about that business last night? What was that? The old man isn’t going to put up with that shit. You’re a prince, not a Vegas headliner. What were you thinking?”
“That Michael and his friends put their hands on my future queen, and now everyone knows that’s a pretty fucking bad idea.”
Wesley dropped into the opposite chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re going to force his hand, Cale. Are you ready for that to happen?”
“When it does, where do you stand, brother?”
Wes met his stare. “On the side I think will win.”
If he’d answered any differently, Cale wouldn’t have believed him.
While the brothers were talking, Kendra dashed through her bathroom routine and dressed hurriedly. By the time she reentered the main room, Cale was seated alone at the table, staring without any focus into his untouched coffee. She sat down and helped herself to the hardy country scramble and biscuits. His plate hadn’t been used. She scooped a good-sized portion onto it and pushed it toward him, commanding, “Eat.”