Stone Guard: Gargoyle Shifter Paranormal Romance (Warriors of Stone Book 2)

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Stone Guard: Gargoyle Shifter Paranormal Romance (Warriors of Stone Book 2) Page 12

by Emma Alisyn


  “I went to the Garden today,” Aeezah said, skipping ahead of them to the open dining room attached to the kitchen. “Veda was there.”

  “Veda? I guess she couldn’t sleep either.”

  Bea entered the kitchen, wrapped her hands in mitts, and drew the casserole dish out of the oven, bringing it back to the table. “Is that healthy? You two act like you don’t need sleep. And all that sunlight can’t be good of you.”

  “We have our mother’s blood,” he said. When she was next to him, he brushed a finger over her cheek. “It protects us a bit from the usual effects. It’s why I’m so very useful to the guard.” He smiled, but his eyes were dark. He turned to Aeezah, who was placing a stack of plates and silverware on the table. “Why did you go to the Garden today?”

  He pulled Bea’s chair out for her, and then Aeezah’s, before taking a seat. She’d purchased a narrow backed chair for him a few days ago, to accommodate his wings, and had been rewarded with a steamy kiss before he pulled away.

  “Mommy doesn’t want me to go to Daddy’s house because he and Melanie don’t like gargoyles.”

  Bea’s mouth dropped open. Niko glanced at her, then turned back to Aeezah and shrugged. “Many humans don’t like gargoyles. They’re just scared.”

  Aeezah's eyes widened. “I don’t think Daddy is scared. He says I should come live with him because Mommy is acting like a deviant wh—”

  “That’s enough, Aeezah,” Bea said, anger roiling in her gut. She’d kill Ben.

  “Are you going to take care of this, Bea?” Niko asked. His voice was mild, nothing on his face would alarm Aeezah. But the chill in his eyes . . .

  “I’ll handle it,” she said.

  He waited until Aeezah was upstairs getting ready for bed. “Do you need help with the human, Bea?”

  She’d just emerged from the kitchen, placing the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. He stood in front of the balcony, arms crossed.

  “No, I don’t. It will be handled in court. He filed for custody.” Bea stumbled, the sudden rage in his face shocking, before he blinked, and it was gone. She stared at him.

  “He’s trying to take her away from you? Malin can help with that. And if you would let me talk to him . . . ”

  No way in hell. The look in his eyes told her the talk would be more like a grave. “I can handle it, Niko.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is it just me that you won’t take help from? Malin? Is it because we’re gargoyles, or males?”

  “That’s the silliest thing I’ve heard. Are you actually implying I’m speciest or sexist?”

  “Just female.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that you need to ask for help.”

  She gestured. “If I don’t ask for help, then what is all of this about? You’re in my house because I had to ask for help. Because you think I’m in danger, even though it hardly seems likely.”

  “Why else would I be here, and have warriors stationed outside your home, if I didn’t think there was real danger?”

  “I don’t know.” She returned his scowl. “It’s not like you do more than kiss me, so it’s not because you’re trying to seduce me.”

  His eyes widened, arms uncrossing. “What?”

  Oh, Lord, had she really said that? She whirled around, embarrassed, and headed back to the kitchen. She’d bang some pans around, run some water until he went away. One thing she knew for certain—Niko didn’t like chores. Stacia had probably cleaned up after him his entire life growing up. He followed her into the kitchen, a hand on her arm pulling her around to face him, and his hard look.

  "I could seduce you, Bea, but it wouldn't be fair. I'm a warrior partially living in your home. That puts any female at a disadvantage." He slid arms around her, drawing her in close so her body was flush against his.

  "You're holding back because of . . . of . . . chivalry?"

  His response was measured. "What I want, Bea, is more than you think. I won't take us down that path until I'm certain it's what you want as well. Which also means you need to deal with Ben. Or I will. I won't tolerate him interfering or complicating our lives."

  She placed her hands on his chest, shoving. He didn't move, of course, just staring down at her with his infuriatingly calm expression. "You talk like it's all your decision. The path you'll take us down. Do I have anything to do with it?"

  Now the calm cracked. If he were a dragon, smoke would be coming from his nostrils. "I just said so, didn't I? Or are you angry because I'm asking you to take care of the issue with Ben, and you don't want him out of your life? He was your husband, is your only child's father."

  Of all the . . . . “You insufferable—I don't have any feelings for Ben. What I have is a respect for his relationship with Aeezah." She paused, licked her lips. "I don’t want to risk that for just something passing with you. If I have to go through all of this with Ben, then I need to know it's for a reason." She pushed at him, but he still didn't let her go "You haven’t given me much of a reason, Niko."

  He didn't move, as still as if he were a gargoyle of old, able to transform to stone to evade predators. But their natural predators, dragons, had been missing for millenia. "I've moved the Prince himself in order to get you protection, and you don't believe my intentions are serious?"

  She folded her lips. She wasn't going to say anything, especially if he were that dense. Besides, nothing she could say would make her look mature. She'd only look like a needy, silly female.

  "I misjudged you," he said, startling Bea. “You're sensible. Malin trusts you, so I made certain assumptions."

  "What the heck does that mean?"

  “I thought you wanted time to make up your mind. I thought protecting you would show you I was a good potential mate.” His arms tightened around her. “You don’t care about any of that. You just want kisses.”

  14

  Bea sputtered. He didn’t have to sound so smug.

  “Gargoyles tend to mate for life. It’s rare a couple breaks up, or a person has more than one long-term partner. So, our courtships are slow. Human women—”

  “If you say human women are fast, or easy, I’ll smack you.”

  He smirked. “It would be like a flea bite. Do you need to check on Aeezah?”

  The sudden change in conversation startled her. “Umm . . . yes. Now, I think.”

  Niko let her go. “Go put the Little Bea to sleep, and then come back down. Don’t keep me waiting long.”

  The words sounded ominous. She didn’t quite rush through her bedtime routine with Aeezah, but she admitted to herself she was distracted. What was Niko planning? The heat in his eyes, the promise. She knew what she yearned for, even though she knew it was still too early for sex. That was what she kept telling herself as she descended the stairs, having made sure Aeezah, if not asleep, at least was doing a really good impression of it.

  About to descend the stairs, she stopped, and returned to her in-suite and showered, lotioning her skin with a simple shea butter and drawing on a sleep bra to keep the girls somewhat modest and an oversized t-shirt. It hit her at the knee, was a boring dark-blue and anything but sexy. But she’d never even worn that around him. She always was fully dressed until she entered her bedroom for the night.

  But with her hair loose and her skin fresh, maybe the hint of even a boring nightshirt would be enough to get this show on the road. How could she tell if there was real attraction between them if he wouldn’t go beyond kisses? Not sex, not yet . . . but she still wanted him to touch her. She wanted to touch him.

  Niko stood outside on her balcony, looking up into the evening sky. As usual it struck her, the difference between his daytime and nighttime forms. During the day, his warm, olive-brown skin and long-lashed, chocolate eyes reminded her of an Egyptian pharaoh—at least when he wasn’t ghostly pale from sun fatigue. At night the brown paled to the smoky hue of storm clouds, his eyes a true black. A hand rested on her balcony, black clawed tips shiny. He was careful when h
e touched her to make sure only the pads of his fingers grazed her skin.

  His wing shifted, lifted up and away to give her space to join him as the balcony door slid open. "Can I get rid of this railing?" he asked, disgruntled.

  “And have Aeezah fall off? Or an assassin throw me over?"

  He glanced at her, grimacing, then paused, taking in her attire and spoke slowly. "You could come stay with me, you know."

  Did the unrelenting stare mean he was attracted, or that he saw through her little attempt to encourage him? “Tell me your condo is as big as my townhouse, and we'll talk."

  "It's not like I picked it out with females in mind." But he lifted his arm so she could burrow at his side. "Should I look for something bigger?"

  Her heart would have skipped a beat if she were younger, and foolish. "It sounds like your place suits you. Why bother?"

  "It suits an unmated male with no garlings."

  Bea sighed, and turned to face him, bumping his body with hers so he stepped back, allowing her to lean against the railing. "Niko, what are you doing? You say all these pretty things, but I could have sworn you aren't a man who plays games with women."

  He stared down at her. "I'm not. You don’t trust me. Is it Ben?"

  She didn’t want to talk about Ben. "Ben has nothing to do with this. He's an irritant, and nothing else."

  "Fine. Then tell me you understand that I want you, and for more than sex. Though, understand, that would be nice."

  “You’re male. I understand. What would you do if I were a gargoyle?”

  The moon shone in his eyes, casting them in a sorcerer light. “If you were a gargoyle, and your father was of the warrior caste, he would have challenged me. I would have won, and he would have hand fasted us.”

  The term sounded familiar. “What’s a handfasting?”

  “A marriage for a year. You’re exclusively mine. If we have a garling, the marriage is permanent, or if we develop a mate bond. If neither happens, then we’re required to either give each other up forever, or renew vows for a lifetime term.”

  She took a breath. “But I’m human. And I don’t have a father you can fight.”

  “You have Malin.”

  Her eyes widened. “You would fight Malin?” she asked, voice a squeak. “That’s crazy.”

  His lips curved. “I haven’t met him on the challenge field in many moons. I would enjoy the fight.”

  “I don’t know if that’s what I want. We don’t even know if we're truly compatible.”

  His head lowered. “I know we’re compatible. You need more convincing.” His voice deepend to a gravelly croon. “How do you want me to convince you, Bea?”

  Why was she so uncertain? Was she really letting her bad experience with Ben stand in her way? Here was a man, strong and handsome. Respected in his community, with a stable, if somewhat dangerous, job. Being as clear as he possibly could that his mind was geared towards marriage . . . and he knew she had a child. Had all but said he wanted more. So, why was she hesitating?

  Bea stretched up on her toes, raising her arms to wrap around his neck and pressed herself against him. He flexed, his entire body rock hard, then stilled, hands spanning her waist. A steady, growing pressure against her middle attested to the fact that he truly was physically attracted to her. Her. A small, curvy woman with messy curls and a girl next door face.

  “I’m not ready for sex," she said softly. "But I want you. I want to touch you.”

  His eyes closed for a moment, then opened, twin jewels. "Whatever you want, Bea. I have to do something first."

  What the heck? He pulled away from her, stepping back into her living room. Bea watched, baffled and more than a little irritated that he'd broken the mood. He lifted his wrist, initiating a call.

  "Malin? I'm with Bea. Will you stand in stead of her father?"

  She heard the muffled exclamation, which told Bea Niko hadn't muted Malin’s side of the conversation. She hurried back into the house, angling herself so her employer could see her.

  "This wasn't my idea!" she exclaimed.

  Niko ignored her, lifting his arm so she had to jump. She grabbed his wrist, yanking it down. His arm lowered very slowly, head tilting as he looked at her.

  "Are you certain?" Malin asked. He wasn’t talking to Bea.

  "Do I fuck around?”

  "No." The Prince glanced at Bea, and smiled a little. "Well, Bea? Is this what you want?"

  "I don’t even know him that well!"

  "That’s what the year is for," Malin replied, voice placid. "It allows you to form a bond without damage to your reputations."

  "Because god forbid a woman shack up without being married."

  He blinked at her. "It's not that, not really. It simply prevents bloodshed if someone's heart is broken. Families aren’t allowed to retaliate for issues that arise within the bounds of a handfasting. And if there is a child, of course, the couple should marry."

  She snorted. There was no ‘of course’ about it. Her divorce was proof of that. “Wait a minute . . . Surah never mentioned a fight for her hand.”

  The Prince looked slightly uncomfortable. “We skipped a few steps. Besides, when she was taken, several of the enemy were killed during her rescue.”

  “Ah,” Bea said, tongue in cheek. “I guess that counts.”

  "Bea," Niko said. "I'll just stalk you."

  "That's illegal. And abusive."

  His expression turned crafty. “You'll have a personal trainer. You can eat all the carbs you want, because I'll know how to keep your body conditioned."

  Now that wasn't really an offer she could refuse. She chewed her lip. “How does it work? Do we move in together?”

  The flash of triumph in his eyes annoyed her. It wasn’t like asking a reasonable question was a sign she was giving in.

  “Yes. But we can start with a few overdays a week. Get comfortable.”

  Prince Malin coughed. “Well, it seems you two have something to discuss. Bea . . .?”

  She froze, the sudden, rabid rush to scream ‘yes’ rushing headlong into a lifetime of common sense. Marrying Ben had been a measured, well-planned decision. They’d dated for two years. She and Niko hadn’t dated at all, they’d just kind of fallen into an understanding. Well, he’d shoved them into it.

  “Alright. I’ll do it. We’ll do it.” She held up a hand when Niko made a sharp, curtailed movement. “We still have to iron out details. This is similar to an arranged marriage. We need to be sensible.”

  The more she thought about it, the more comfortable she became. It was like an arranged marriage. Which meant they could sit down like responsible adults, hash out a verbal contract. Discuss expectations maturely and make sure they were on the same page. She glanced at Niko, who’d disconnected his call. Niko was looking at her. The way he was looking at her . . . he wasn’t thinking about logistics and civilized discussions.

  “So,” he said with a slow, dark, half smile. “You want to discuss details.”

  Bea took a step away, casual. “I think that would be smart.”

  He followed her, slinking, eyes unblinking. “I have yet to demonstrate one of the most valuable benefits of being my wife.”

  When had her throat dried out? She cleared it, then coughed. “I think I need some water.”

  His wings snapped open, momentarily blocking the soft glow from her recessed lighting. Bea stifled a shriek, startled, stumbling back as he leaped the few feet that separated them. For a moment an atavistic fear grabbed her. Just a moment. But what woman wouldn’t be frightened with a man descended from ancient, feral, inhuman, hunting her?

  "I won't hurt you," he crooned, arms tight as he half lifted her. Bea's knees trembled as her heart rate tripped and slowed back to normal.

  “Don’t do that," she breathed. "You startled me."

  His hand buried in her hair, pulling her head back. "Do you want me? In your life, in your body? I’m not human. I will always frighten you a little."

  As alien as
his eyes looked in gargoyle form, they were still his eyes. "I’m not scared. Not because you’re a gargoyle."

  His lips quirked, and she felt the subtle tension leave him. His head lowered even more, lips brushing hers. "What can I do to you tonight? I crave, Bea."

  Annnnnnnd—now she couldn’t breath. "I don’t know. Will you stop when I say so?"

  He closed his eyes, grimacing. "Pick a word." His voice was rough. "Not ‘stop’, or ‘no’. Females like to say that when they're playing."

  She cleared her throat for the second time that night, hoarse. "Cauliflower casserole."

  His eyes snapped open. "That’s two words."

  "It's a compound word. It counts." She spoke the word that commanded the lights to dim. It wasn’t necessary—she was happy with her body, but dimmed lights seemed more romantic somehow.

  “Are you ready for me?” he asked, and cupped her cheek.

  She nodded. His thumb slid around to caress her bottom lip. “Good.”

  Nikolau stepped back, and his entire demeanor changed. She realized, in that moment, that he’d been hiding from her. She’d always thought it was corny when women said they’d unleashed the beast in their man. Now she understood, and just from looking in his eyes.

  “Go sit on the couch,” he said softly, and stepped back.

  It sounded like an innocent command, but her heart jackknifed. Bea obeyed, sitting with her ankles crossed and her hands in her lap, looking up at him inquiring when he followed her.

  He crossed his arms, and shook his head. “That won’t do, Bea.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  His lips curved. “You came down here in nothing but a t-shirt for a reason. You know what you want to do.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You want to show me your pussy.”

  The sudden, dirty words shocked her. Ben had never . . . she banished any thoughts of him. He was nothing.

  Licking her lips, she slowly spread her thighs, hands sliding to the couch, palms flat as if she needed her balance. And, she did. His eyes were bright. Dragon bright.

  “Now lift the hem of your shirt.”

 

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