by Josie Litton
The thought of giving another person any sort of ultimate say over what I could or couldn’t do stirred my darkest fears. As deeply as I cared for Adam, I couldn’t hide from them.
“I may not have a very positive view of marriage,” I said. “But even I know that ultimatums have no place in a healthy relationship. Whatever we face in the future, we should work it out together.”
A look flashed behind his eyes--dark, ominous. A few weeks before, it would have made me quake. Now I faced him straight on. The sooner he realized that the woman he had asked to become Mrs. Adam Falzon could give as good as she got, the better for both of us.
He let go and stepped back. As always, the loss of his touch sent a shiver of coldness through me. Flatly, with none of the gentleness he had shown earlier, he said. “I will not allow you to put yourself in danger. That’s a line I will not cross. Anything else we can…discuss.”
I was about to respond when he said, “For now, you’ll have to excuse me. Before we return to New York, there are preparations to make.”
Our gazes met and held. I knew that all the confusion and concern I felt were on display for him to see. But on his part, it was as though a mask had dropped into place, concealing every emotion and leaving nothing in evidence but his implacable will.
Too quickly, he turned away and walked with measured swiftness from the terrace.
Chapter Fifteen
Adam
I spent the rest of the afternoon in my office on the phone and exchanging emails. Most of the conversations involved shifting resources to New York, putting security and investigators into place. I was more concerned about Grace’s grandmother than I’d admitted. The psychiatric evaluation that I’d ordered on the old woman months ago had come with the stipulation that diagnosis of any individual without direct contact with the clinician was always problematic. Nevertheless, what followed had been enough to alarm even me.
I’d never before believed in the idea of the ‘bad seed’ but the matriarch of the Delaney family made me reconsider. Orphaned at fifteen when her parents, siblings and half-a-dozen neighbors all died in a suspicious house fire, she’d added a few years to her age, gotten a job at an exclusive “gentlemen’s club” in New York, and promptly sunk her claws into the dissipated heir to a newspaper fortune. A dozen years later, a still young Jack Delaney was dead of an apparent heart attack, despite having no known heart condition, and his widow was in charge of the family empire.
Since then, the body count among any who opposed the Delaneys had risen steadily. People fell victim to accidents, suicides, and--for the lucky ones--scandal. The influence of the newspapers had tanked in recent years, along with the industry as a whole but by then the Delaneys were thoroughly diversified. Television, satellite radio, cable news stations, they owned them all, along with several of the most effective public relations firms in the world kept busy burnishing the Delaney image. Money flowed through shell corporations, off shore bank accounts, and foreign subsidiaries. Much of it landed in the family’s foundation where it was immune to taxation and free from scrutiny.
I hadn’t known about Patrick but the truth about his death came as no surprise. With hindsight, I should have seen it sooner. It was no wonder that Grace was so consumed with finding justice for him. Her grandmother’s crimes were accelerating, aided and abetted by other members of the family. There was no telling how far they would go.
The best I could hope for was to protect her as much as possible from whatever lay ahead. Long after the last pieces were in place, I lingered at my desk, wondering what else I could do. Or should have done.
If I’d listened to my instincts, I would have locked Grace up somewhere safe--the tower on Malta would have been my first choice--and taken care of the family myself. It would have been discreet, deliberate, and thorough. In the end, there would have been no one left who was a threat to her.
Instead, I’d tried to respect her wishes, only to make a complete mess of it.
No woman deserved such a ham-handed proposal, she least of all. I was so afraid of losing her that I’d seized on what she wanted to do in New York as an excuse for binding her to me in any way I could.
And then I’d made it worse by letting her know that she could expect to be kept on a tight leash.
No wonder she’d been less than thrilled at the thought of becoming my wife. Hell, she’d damn near passed out from shock, and not the dream-come-true kind. Understandably given how she’d grown up, she was wary of the very institution of marriage. Another thing that I should have foreseen.
I, at least, had the example of my parents who had truly loved each other. Turning a paperweight absently in one hand, I reflected that over the years, I hadn’t thought very much about that aspect of their life together, consumed as I was by their murders. But that had changed. Thanks to Grace, I could acknowledge that love had brought me into the world. It was real, it existed, and now, against all odds, I was in the grip of it.
She, on the other hand, had no reason to believe in any such thing. Yet she was still brave and kind and generous enough to take me on.
Unless I’d finally managed to push her away.
Sulking in my office, nursing my self-inflicted wounds, I’d given her the perfect opportunity to leave.
Grace could be gone.
The moment that thought surfaced in my mind, I bolted out of my chair. Dread burned through me. Without thought, I hurled the paperweight at a nearby wall. It hit hard enough to leave a hole.
Ignoring the shower of plaster dust wafting down on the carpet, I strode out of the room, intent on finding Grace. Or going after her, if it came to that. My fists were clenched at my sides, my heart hammering as I cleared a corner of the house near the pool and saw…
The woman who was alternately driving me insane and making me hope for a future I’d never dared to dream of before. She was standing on the far side of the tall Lombardy pines that screened the pool terrace. Behind her, the western sky was streaked pink, amber, and pale green. A crescent moon was darkening from pale ivory to gold. The warm breeze off the Mediterranean made the simple ankle-length dress she wore ripple around her exquisite legs.
Just the sight of her sent a rush of relief through me. Hard on it came a rush of a different kind--hot, fiercely carnal need that ran right over any semblance of reason and threatened to drown it out entirely. I could almost feel those lovely legs around me as I thrust into her, driving us both to--
I dragged in air and struggled for some semblance of the control that was so dangerously elusive wherever Grace was concerned.
The pool lights had come on automatically at dusk. They illuminated her features. My gaze focused on the faint tautness around that soft, ravishable mouth and the shadows in the eyes that were so often transparent windows into her soul. She looked pensive and a little weary, as though she had been wrestling with a problem for hours without coming close to any resolution. My gut clenched as I acknowledged my own responsibility for the aura of tension and sadness that clung to her.
Mist rose from the heated water, tendrils of it drifting toward her. She glanced back over her shoulder toward the house, hesitated a moment and then…
My breath caught as she suddenly tugged the dress up over her head and tossed it aside. For a moment she stood in just the skin-toned scrap of panties that were her only remaining garment. At the sight of her almost nude--her high, firm breasts, the slim tuck of her waist, the graceful curve of her hips--my cock strained against the fabric of my jeans.
With a quick, graceful movement, she dove into the water. I stared at the pale, sleek shape of her body--all long, slender legs and gorgeous ass, her muscles flexing with elegant ease--until she surfaced half-way across the pool. She threw her hair back and inhaled deeply. Her eyes were closed, her lashes dark, wet wings emphasizing the hollows beneath her cheeks.
From the very beginning, no matter what she’d had to confront, the passion and courage, the amazing honesty and essential goodness t
hat made her so extraordinary had never wavered. But I feared that they were flickering now, threatened by the burdens I kept placing on her.
A better man, even a merely decent one would have walked away. I never even considered doing so. The rush of blood in my ears kept time with the beating pulse of my cock. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Especially not when she opened her own and looked directly at me. Her brief start of surprise vanished before I could be sure I’d seen it. Her eyes widened and for a moment, I thought she would turn her back on me or worse yet, flee. But her limbs kept moving, treading water, holding her in place. Tiny wavelets broke against the curve of her shoulders and the swell of her breasts.
My gaze locked on hers. Relief gave way to something more--deep, wrenching gratitude. In the darkness of my soul, I knew that I didn’t deserve her. The proof of that lay in the fact that I was so shamelessly willing to claim her as my own. The distance between us--any distance--was unbearable.
Obeying a need as primal as life itself, I toed off my shoes and began unbuttoning my shirt. My hands shook as I watched her, watching me. Her gaze never wavered as I stripped the shirt off and tossed it aside.
In short order, I undid the button of my jeans and eased the zipper down, wincing slightly as I did so. She had me rock hard already. As I sprang free, the tip of her tongue snuck out to moisten her lips. Grace caught herself and blushed but damn if she didn’t keep looking.
A kernel of hope took root in me. Distantly, I realized that we needed to talk, work things out, come to a better understanding or at least try to. But the blunt fact was that no amount of talk could alter my determination to protect her. At most, it might make her feel a little better about what was going to happen in any case.
The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. I thought back to her in the cell--cold, hungry, terrified because of me--and felt sick. But I didn’t stop there. My mind fast forwarded to the tower on Malta, the way she was in the red room. And afterward when I couldn’t stand it anymore and went much too far in order to end it with her family once and for all.
What made the guilt so inescapable was that while I’d achieved my immediate objective, justice for Rolf and his sister, the problem of her family had only grown larger and even more dangerous until it threatened Grace herself.
I couldn’t bear that. I needed for her to understand how precious she truly was to me, how lost I was without her. Just as fiercely, I was desperate to imprint myself on her, to compel her to acknowledge that nothing was stronger than what we had together, not even our mutual, conflicting desire to protect each other.
But all that would have to wait. The avid gaze from those incredible green eyes, that pink tip of her tongue, the flush creeping down over the swell of her breasts, all had me close to bursting. Quickly, I stripped off my jeans and briefs and tossed them aside.
Her gaze raked over me. I held myself still, well aware of how many times I had fucked her with my eyes, enjoying every inch of her. Turnabout was fair play but truth be told, it was also incredibly erotic. I got off on her looking at me. Especially because I couldn’t see even a flicker of fear in her. That was a gift of such breathtaking generosity that it made my eyes sting.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she stood up, the water falling away to the curve of her hips, revealing those gorgeous breasts, full and inviting, her nipples pebble hard above the graceful curve of her abdomen and the indentation of her navel.
Staring at her, I fisted my cock, stroking from root to crest. I was so hard, so ready. It would have taken almost nothing to make me come. But that wasn’t remotely enough. I needed to taste her, lap up the salty sweetness of her juices, hear her moans, feel the tremors racing through her, the moment when she opened to me completely, all the barriers falling away for us both.
Her eyes narrowed, focusing. She stood up a little more, giving me a glimpse of the cleft between her toned thighs, the plump softness of her lips there just begging to be spread apart, stroked and--
I dropped my cock, took the few steps to the edge of the pool, and dove in. The water was warm, rippled by shards of light. Behind it, the world fell away. A sense of liberation swept over me.
Surfacing beside Grace, I snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Her pebbled nipples grazed my chest. Her hands grasped my upper arms, our legs tangling in the weightlessness of the water.
Skin-to-skin, I savored the balm of her touch. It gave me the courage to say what had to be said before we went any further.
“I’m sorry.”
Her gaze softened. “For what?”
“That would take forever but most immediately, for walking away when I should have stayed and talked things out with you.”
She nodded and pressed a hand to my chest, right above my heart. Quietly, she asked, “Why did you go?”
“I really did have things to take care of but mostly it was because…” I took a breath, let the last of my innate caution go and said, “I’m used to hiding behind the walls that I’ve built around myself--power, reputation, danger. I have been for as long as I can remember. But they crumble where you’re concerned. The thought of you being hurt…” Despite the warmth of the pool, an icy finger of fear moved through me.
“I get more than a little irrational about that,” I admitted.
The corners of her mouth tugged up in a rueful smile. “You’re not alone. I managed to convince myself that I didn’t want you with me in New York despite the fact that I do.” The tip of her finger caressed the line of my jaw. Ripples of pleasure raced down my spine.
“There and everywhere else,” she said. “Always.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, struggling for whatever vestiges of control I still had left and coming up empty. I needed her…savagely, completely, no barriers, nothing held back.
Her lips was soft and tender under my own. I took full advantage of her small gasp and tasted her deeply. Her arms twined around my neck, her breasts crushed against my chest. I cupped her hips between my hands and lifted her, catching a ripe nipple and drawing it into my greedy mouth.
A low, urgent moan broke from her. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just to the edge of arousing pain.
“Oh, God…Adam!”
Still suckling her, I reached down and gripped the thin edge of her panties. The fabric ripped, floating away in the water, leaving her completely bare to me.
My thigh thrust between hers, opening her further. She moved against me, the heat of her arousal caressing my cock. A harsh groan erupted from deep inside me. With it went the last of my restraint.
Water sluiced off her body as I lifted her, strode a few yards, and set her on the side of the pool, perfectly positioned to put her gorgeous pussy at eye level for me.
Her startled gasp made me grin as I wrapped my hands around the curve of her ass and drew her to my mouth. Her head fell back, her palms flattening against the tiles surrounding the pool, arms bracing to keep her upright.
The first taste of her was intoxicating but I needed so much more. My tongue slid between her folds, swirling around but not quite touching her clit. She squirmed, trying to press closer. I held her in place, keeping the pace slow, as her back arched.
“Please…” she cried out.
I couldn’t have asked for a sweeter sound but I refused to be rushed. Slowly, tormenting us both, I licked all around her opening before working my way back up to her swollen clit. When I closed my mouth on her, she bucked, her arms giving way. As she slid down flat beside the pool. I levered myself out of the water. Grapping a cushion off the recliner, I moved her onto it before slipping my arms under her knees, folding her legs and spreading her wide.
The setting sun gilded her pale skin and the damp strands of her silken hair spreading out around her. Night blooming white jasmine was just beginning to open, its perfume mingling with the intoxicating scent of her sex. The heat from the pool and the warm southern breeze enveloped us, sealing us away from
the world.
She lay supine, waiting, gazing at me with eyes that burned with open, honest passion and need.
The ravenous lust I felt for her intensified beyond anything I had ever known, driven by primal longings that went far beyond carnal need. I wanted to possess her in every way possible, hands, tongue, mouth, cock, all of it. I couldn’t leave an inch of her unclaimed.
Holding her thighs spread wide, I took her clit again, flicking my tongue over and around it as she writhed under me. Slipping my thumb into her, I rubbed lightly, feeling felt the rippling spasms of her approaching orgasm. She was close but I wanted more.
I drew back a little and moved my thumb, coated with the cream of her arousal, between the cheeks of her ass. She stiffened for a moment but didn’t resist.
Taking my cock in hand, I rubbed the crest over her clit at the same time I stroked my thumb around the little puckered opening before easing just the first knuckle into her slowly. She jerked in surprise, the sensation foreign to her. Her hands came up to clutch my shoulders. To my great relief, instead of pushing me away, she drew me closer.
“Adam…” she whispered. On her lips, my name was a caress that sent a wave of longing through me.
“I have to have you,” I gasped. “All of you, when you’re ready. No barriers between us, Grace. Not ever again.”
I was demanding more than I had any right to. But at the same time, I was promising more than I had ever imagined offering to anyone. No barriers. The very thought of that shook my world. Only one thing stood out with rock solid certainty: I would do everything in my power to keep that promise to Grace. Nothing would ever come before it. Except keeping her safe.
Her hand reached down, replacing mine around the shaft of my cock. Holding my gaze, she arched her hips, guiding me to her.
“No barriers,” she murmured as the slick, hot lips of her sex closed around the tip of my crest.
Sweat beaded on my forehead. I fought the urge to thrust into her. With aching slowness, I moved just a little deeper…a little more…reveling in the sensation of her sweet, lush cunt clutching around me.
