He was such an idiot. He should have known what was going on, should have recognized the signs. He was the one who told David about Liam and Sera, how could he not have known?
He closed his eyes and tried to sort through everything. He hadn't recognized it because he’d never thought it could happen to him. He’d never given much thought to the soul mate thing. He knew about it and what it meant, but he never thought it would affect him.
He’d lived a long time and never met anyone he would consider changing for or settling down with forever. After all these years, he hadn't believed it was possible to find anyone. He knew now he was completely and utterly wrong.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to absorb and sort through everything. "Shit," he whispered.
"I'm amazed you didn't recognize it sooner," David said, the amusement in his voice only aggravating Stefan more.
He remembered the way they’d all behaved around him the night she was hurt, and it suddenly made sense. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. She looked so innocent and angelic, but he knew how much looks could be deceiving. She was an irritating, infuriating, hellion, and for better or worse, he was stuck with her. He had to admit no matter how much she aggravated him, he didn't mind the idea of being stuck with her for eternity. It was a rather appealing concept.
"So am I," he muttered. "How long have you guys known?"
"Since the night at the club," Jack answered.
He glanced up at them. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"You left before we had the chance," Mike reminded him. "And once you came back, we assumed you figured it out."
Stefan frowned as he glanced back at Isabelle. David started to laugh as he turned and walked toward the house. "You look like someone just punched you in the gut!" he called over his shoulder.
He felt like someone punched him in the gut. He started walking again, marveling over what he’d learned. He saw the way Liam and Sera were together, their constant need to communicate with each other, their need to touch, and the deep love they shared.
He frowned as he thought about that. He didn't love Isabelle. He liked her, he admired her, he cared for her, but he didn't love her. Did he?
He glanced back down at her as a deep, unknown emotion welled up inside him. It was something he’d never felt before, and he didn't understand it. He wanted to keep her safe. He wanted to see her laugh and be happy. He needed to be with her and near her. Today, in town, he felt like he was crawling out of his skin without her. He knew now it was because he needed to be near her, to touch her, to hold her at all times. Was that what love was?
He slipped into the house behind everyone else and carried her down the basement stairs. He pushed the door open and kicked it closed behind him. Isabelle stirred as he put her on the bed, but she didn't wake. He undressed her slowly, careful not to rouse her as he pulled off his shirt and the baggy pants.
He stood for a moment, admiring her long, sleek body and gentle curves. The silvery glow of the moonlight highlighted her creamy skin. He tore his gaze from her and quickly stripped out of his clothes. He crawled into bed beside her, gritting his teeth against his carnal urges as he drew her into his arms. She murmured but still didn't wake as she rested her head on his shoulder. It took all he had not to wake her and make love to her, but he knew how badly she needed sleep, how exhausted she was.
It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty
"What are you doing?" Isabelle demanded with a laugh as Stefan guided her along.
"You'll see," he whispered huskily in her ear.
Chills shuddered down her spine as she moved closer to him, relishing in the feel of his solid, warm body against hers. She didn't think she would ever get used to the way he made her feel. She cried out suddenly as he bent and swept her up. Her hands instinctively gripped his broad shoulders as he chuckled in her ear.
"I won't drop you," he promised.
She smiled at him as he carried her rapidly along. She knew they were going to the new house, but he insisted on blindfolding her for it. Her heart beat with anticipation as he climbed the porch steps. She was dying to see the house, as they had refused to let her near it the closer it was to being completed, but being this close to Stefan was causing another desire to awaken —one she couldn’t satisfy enough over the past few days. She snuggled closer to him, pressing her breasts provocatively against his chest as her hands rubbed the back of his neck.
"Unless you want me to take you in front of your brothers, you better stop," he growled.
Isabelle smiled at him. "Stop what?" she asked innocently.
"You know what."
A door opened and closed. "Can I see yet?" she asked eagerly.
"Not yet."
She sighed as he climbed the stairs and moved briskly down the hallway. She frowned as she lifted her head from his shoulder. "I think we're missing most of the house." A door banged shut. Isabelle's forehead furrowed then cleared as a delicious shiver swept through her. "Where are my brothers?"
"Packing their stuff," Stefan said as he set her on her feet and turned her to untie the blindfold. "Keep your eyes closed."
She nearly jumped up and down as the blindfold fell away. "Okay," he whispered in her ear. "Open them."
She gasped in amazement and delight when she saw the room. It was painted in the soft cream color she’d selected. The wood trim surrounding the room was stained a light oak and gleamed in the sunlight spilling through the windows. Beaming, her gaze settled on the four-poster, king size bed, with its beautiful green, white, and yellow quilt. She remembered telling her mother she wanted the quilt for her bed, but this bed was not hers. She didn't know where it came from, but she loved it instantly.
An antique nightstand stood beside the bed, her Tiffany lamp, with its multi-colored, stained glass shade sat on it. At the foot of the bed was the old cedar chest she'd owned since she was a little girl. Her bureau sat against the left wall, beneath two large windows facing the woods. On the right-hand side was a large bay window with an emerald green window seat which overlooked the sparkling lake. She knew she would spend many hours there, curled up, daydreaming or reading.
"Who did all of this?" she cried as she raced across the room and flung open the doors to the large walk-in closet. It was so big she could easily fit a king bed inside.
Isabelle laughed with delight as she ran across the room and thrust the door to the bathroom open. She froze, her breath caught in her throat, before she squealed in delight. The walls were sponge painted a subtle rose and light dove color. A large Jacuzzi tub she never asked for was installed.
She rushed over to hop in it and sprawled out for a minute. All of her fit with room to spare. She hopped back out to take in the rest of the room. There was a shower stall next to the tub with a beaded glass door. The marble green counter she’d ordered was in place, but it enclosed two sinks, instead of one. Her smile grew even bigger as she realized Stefan was the one who made the changes and saw to the room being finished.
Stefan watched in amusement as she ran back in the room and jumped onto the large bed. "You like it?"
She beamed at him as she swung her arms over her head and jumped up to hit the ceiling. "I love it! Did you do all of it?"
He smiled as he moved toward her. She stopped jumping on the bed to watch as he approached with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Your mom painted the bathroom. I don't have the patience for that sponging thing."
"And the bed?"
"I couldn't resist."
He smiled at her as she walked over to him. Her eyes gleamed with happiness, and the smile on her face stole his breath.
"All I could do was imagine the things I will do to you in this bed," he said hoarsely.
Heat suffused her from head to toe as her body grew taut with anticipation. "And who said you were going to share it with me?" she teased.
Although he knew she was teasing, her words caused something pri
mal to flow forth. He seized hold of her waist, lifted her off the bed, and dropped her on it. She cried out as he braced his arms beside her head and leaned over her.
"I do," he grated.
He looked extremely lethal as his eyes burned into hers, and his jaw clenched. She hadn't meant to upset him, but she obviously had, and she didn't understand why. She stroked his cheek and tried to ease the savage look on his face. He softened at her touch, but there was still a predatory gleam in his eyes she knew well.
"Stefan," she breathed.
He brushed the hair off her neck; his eyes latched onto it as they flashed red. A shiver of alarm and yearning tore through her as she struggled to breathe.
"Do you know what we are, Isabelle?" he demanded raggedly.
Her lips parted as she scanned his face anxiously. She knew what they were, and how she felt about him, but she wasn’t sure if he knew yet. She sure didn't know how he felt about her, and she wasn't about to tell him anything if he didn't feel the same way. His eyes were harsh and turbulent when they came back to hers. Her hand began to tremble on his cheek as her heart seemed to swell to the point of bursting.
"Do you?" she asked.
His mouth quirked in a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Yes, I do," he admitted. Her breath froze in her lungs as tears sprang to her eyes. "You may have denied it, in the beginning, you may even be trying to deny it still, but you will accept it. Now."
She would have laughed over his command, except the look in his eyes, and his words left her momentarily speechless. She swallowed as her hand fell away from his face. "Do you realize what you're saying?" she asked.
"Yes, I do," he grated. "Do you understand what I'm telling you? You need to come to terms with this."
Isabelle laughed as emotions so profound and stunning blazed forth. His eyes darkened and flashed dangerously. She realized he didn't understand she wasn't laughing at him but because she was joyously happy.
"I have," she assured him quickly.
Gradually the animosity in his body eased, and a smile curved his sensual mouth. "Good."
The butterfly caress of his kiss caused her heart to race and her body to melt. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back as she savored in the feel of his mouth against hers. When he licked her lips, she parted them to accept his eager, hot invasion.
Isabelle lost herself to the sensation of his mouth and body as he moved over her, tasting her, feeling her. Somewhere along the way, their clothes disappeared. She relished in the feel of his warm skin, and taut muscles as he slid over her. The coarse hair covering his broad chest amazed her as she ran her fingers through it and marveled in the differences between his body and hers. She circled his nipples, nipping, and licking at them until they hardened beneath her ministrations.
Stefan slid his hands leisurely over her satiny skin, memorizing every curve, every hollow. He left a trail of kisses down her neck, over her ribcage, and across her breasts. Isabelle arched further into him as he drew her nipple into his mouth. He nibbled on the bud as if it were the sweetest berry in the world; which to him, it was. Her hands clenched on his back as glorious, erotic moans escaped her.
He slid steadily lower, dropping kisses over her flat stomach before dipping into taste her tiny navel. She squirmed beneath him, her breath coming faster as her hips instinctively lifted to him, seeking his invasion, his possession. Stefan stood swiftly; Isabelle groaned at the loss of contact, but he grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She gasped as he knelt on the floor before her and used his hands to separate the thighs she instinctively tried to close.
"Stefan!"
His smile was sly and sensual as he dropped delicate kisses along her inner thigh, and his tongue left a blazing trail that set her on fire and melted any resistance. Hypnotized, she watched in breathless anticipation as his dark head bent between her legs. Her hands curled into the quilt as he parted her sensitive folds and began to taste her. The wickedness of what he was doing, and the delicious sensations it provoked, drove her nearly mad. She arched against him as he pushed his tongue deeper.
Stefan had never tasted anything as sweet as her. She was like molten lava and honey rolled into one. Her hands released the sheets to curl into his hair, pulling him closer against her. A feeling of utter triumph came over him as she yielded everything to him. He began to urge her faster, plummeting deeply in and out as her cries became more frantic, and she began to writhe with unbridled passion on the bed. He kneaded her breasts as he used his thumb to stroke the quivering bud between her thighs begging for his attention.
She bucked against him; a savage cry escaped her as her hands tightened in his hair. He ignored it as he savored the taste of her and absorbed the tremors rocking her.
He pulled away from her, smiling with smug satisfaction as he looked down at her. Sweat slicked her, and passion clouded her eyes when they met his. She managed a tremulous smile as he lifted himself over, took hold of her luscious mouth, and drove into her. Isabelle cried out; her fingers dug into his back as another wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
Isabelle tossed her sweater into a box and hummed happily under her breath as she danced across the room. She hadn't known it was possible to be this happy, this complete. She felt as if her heart would burst with joy. She knew she was acting like a silly fool, one who was in love. A smile curved her mouth as she tossed another sweater into the box. The knowledge didn't frighten her at all anymore.
She was in love with Stefan, without him she would wither away and die, but she no longer cared about that consequence. She wanted him, and only him. She hadn't revealed to him she loved him yet, simply because a part of her was still scared he didn't feel the same way. She kept trying to tell herself he loved her; after all, he knew they were meant to be together, but that didn't necessarily mean he loved her.
Well, maybe it did. She wasn't entirely sure, but she thought if people were destined to be soul mates, then love would have to be a factor, wouldn't it? Her brow furrowed as she tossed another sweater into the box. Her mother and father loved each other dearly, but they’d been in love before her mother learned what her father was and before either of them knew anything about soul mates.
That hadn't happened with her and Stefan, and she wasn't sure if maybe that was the way it was supposed to work. Maybe they were meant to fall in love first then find out about the mate bond later.
She slid onto her old bed, a sweater clutched tightly in her hand, as she stared at the woods through the window. If she were truly honest with herself, she would admit a part of her loved him from the start. She’d been too stubborn to accept it or acknowledge it.
She wished she hadn't fought against him so relentlessly. She should have run to him with open arms and embraced her future instead of hiding from it, but she had an eternity to make up for her mistake.
Isabelle hopped off the bed, determined to start making it up to him as soon as possible. She smiled wickedly before realizing she was no longer alone. She spun quickly to find Jess in the doorway; hatred oozed from every pore of her body.
Water dripped from Jess's hair, and her bathing suit hugged her lithe body. She’d made sure Jess wasn't around when she came in, but apparently, she’d returned from her swim sometime after Isabelle left Kyle's side.
"I'll be out in a minute," Isabelle managed to tell her through the lump suddenly constricting her throat. She didn't want to think about what had once been between Jess and Stefan, but she suddenly couldn't get it out of her mind.
Jess snorted as she moved further into the room. "Take your time; it is your room, after all."
"Not anymore." Isabelle tossed the sweater into the box and turned to grab the remaining shirts from the drawer.
"Then again, what's mine is yours, right, Isabelle?"
Isabelle forced herself to take a deep breath and turn to face her. Jess had every right to hate her, and if it was the other way around she would feel the same way. But she h
ad to try and say something, do something, to ease it. "I am sorry, Jess," she whispered.
"Why is it I don't believe a word you say?"
Jess was determined to have it out with her, and there wasn't much she could do to stop her. "You don't have to believe me, Jess, but it is the truth. I didn't want this to happen. It just did. I'm sorry you were hurt in the process, but there is nothing I can do about it now."
Isabelle tossed the sweaters into the box and closed the lid. She wanted out of this room in the worst possible way. Hoisting the box into her arms, she hurried around the bed. Jess instantly moved to intercept her.
"Jess—"
"You think you're so special? You think you're so great? You're just a little slut, and he'll use you and toss you aside like the whore you are!" she spat.
"I told you, I was sorry; there is nothing else I can say. If you don't accept it, then that's fine. Now get out of my way!"
"I hate you!" Jess screeched.
Isabelle closed her eyes as a tremor rocked her body. The malevolence oozing from Jess was enough to knock her blossoming anger away. "Jess—"
She never saw the slap coming, but the force of it staggered her backward as the sound of it resounded throughout the room. Isabelle gasped as the box fell from her suddenly limp hands. Blood filled her mouth, and her cheek stung from the force of the blow. Her hand flew to her cheek and split lip as she gazed at Jess in disbelief. Jess was shaking; her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she took a step forward.
A loud bellow filled the room as Stefan came forward with his eyes blazing. Jess's mouth dropped when she spun toward him. He grasped her arms and lifted her off the ground as he pulled her forward. Jess cried out as her feet kicked in the air.
Isabelle leapt forward to grasp hold of his arm. "Stefan, no!"
The fury radiating from every inch of him filled the room and shook her to the marrow of her bones.
Jess whimpered as she squirmed in his grasp. "You're hurting me!"
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