Her Fallen Protector

by Nichole Severn

  With swift strokes, he used the pad of his thumb to circle her. He plunged his tongue back into her without restraint, pulling another erotic gasp from her lips. He looked up at her for the briefest of moments. “Come for me, Vdarra. Show me who you really are.”

  “Yes! Yes!” She convulsed around him, clutching the sheets violently. Her orgasm rocked him to the bone. Her inner walls contracted and released around his tongue, but he couldn’t give her up so easily. Not yet.

  He stood. Couldn’t resist another second. He ripped the foil package she’d set on the bed and forced the condom over himself in a rush. He thrust into her heat, keeping the rhythm he’d set with his mouth. He exhaled in relief, the hole in his chest slowly healing with every plunge.

  As if sensing his need and accepting the challenge it held, she pulled him down on top of her. Her legs wrapped around his back to meet him thrust for thrust.

  The intimacy gave him strength and he accelerated his pace.

  Her warmth surrounded him, ran through his veins, unraveling years of self-hatred. Within seconds of having what he craved, the tingling sensation he’d felt at their first touch charged throughout his entire body. Every piece of her was connected to him, and him to her. Body, spirit, and mind, each under control of the other, yet separate.

  Her legs clamped harder around him. She moaned in pleasure, pleasure he’d given her, and sent him over the edge. “Oh, yes!”

  His release surged from his body and took with it any energy she’d given him. Every muscle in his body surrendered to her, weakened him limb by limb. Collapsing on top of the woman he’d sworn to protect with his life, he tried to regain his breath.

  At any moment, her memories would return and steal their pleasure. He’d enjoy this euphoria while it lasted. Allowing it to fill his chest, he pushed himself onto his elbows.

  He smiled as he stared down at the flushed woman beneath him. “Are you all right?”

  The contentment on her lips wouldn’t last, but he’d remember this moment for eternity. Eagerness to see the goddess he’d fallen in love with overcame him, despite the repercussions of bringing her back.

  “Yeah,” she said breathlessly. “That was…”

  Her features shifted, her eyebrows creasing in the middle, and his heart sank. He imagined every second of her previous life flashing before her, including the last precious few moments.

  Panic flared. She’d never permit him to touch her again. Not when she discovered what he’d done.

  “Yes?” He tightened his hold on her, reluctant to let her go. She had to remember, had to explain why she’d left him behind.

  Her expression relaxed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  The air froze in his lungs. His heart plummeted into his stomach. He’d failed. Distancing himself, he shot to his feet, anxiety filling his body. He’d risked her life for nothing, risked everything. “You—you don’t remember me.”

  “I thought we already covered that part.” With one hand, she grabbed the sheet to cover her naked body then pushed herself from the bed. She wrapped long, elegant fingers around his forearm to prevent him from stepping back further, fingers he’d been convinced belonged to the woman he loved. Now he realized nothing could bring her back. Not even him. “Remember? You said you’d help me.”

  Searing heat raced up his shoulders at her touch. How could he have been so wrong? Her outbursts of emotional power over the last week had led him straight to her. With every glance, every touch, he’d begun to be convinced she hadn’t really died that day. Maybe he’d wanted her so much that his mind had manipulated him into believing the impossible. “I have to go.”

  “Not until I get the answers you promised.” The panic in her voice shifted into desperation. “I feel a connection with you I’ve never felt with anyone else, like my entire body has missed you somehow. It recognizes you, but I can’t remember anything up until ten years ago. Please, just tell me who I am.”

  He fumbled with the condom and tossed it in the trash can as the hole in the center of his chest ripped wide open. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. What the hell had he done? He dressed quickly, yanking his pants on, then his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

  He had to get ahead of her father, had to distance himself from Vdarra as quickly as possible. To save her. The realization nearly brought him to his knees. A mixture of relief and dread filled his heart. He could stay ahead of the monsters hunting her down, but he had to leave. Now.

  She’d never remember him because the woman to whom he’d sworn his heart didn’t exist. Not anymore. His bonding hadn’t resurrected her memories, and despite his desperation to save the eternal love they’d shared, he’d never find out why she’d torn them apart.

  He could only live with it.

  “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they don’t find you, but for your own safety, you’ll never see me again.” He had to go.

  Her eyes widened, those soft lips drawing his attention as they parted. Hitching the sheet higher around her chest, she backed herself toward the bed until her knees hit the mattress. Moonlight reflected off the thin veil of tears welling in her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Don’t trust anyone.” He trailed his fingers across her jawline as he had a thousand times before, a sliver of the passion they’d shared racing down his back. As long as he lived, he’d remember this night. She’d freed him from a life of wondering, and he’d never forget it. Never forget her. Without another word, Jacob turned his back on the only woman he’d ever given himself to and walked out the door.

  Chapter Three

  The sensation of being watched made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’d locked all the windows and closed the blinds, dead-bolted the front door, and pulled the .38 Smith and Wesson from the cookie jar. Even with the small revolver beside the tub, the idea a stranger could spy on her from places unknown made unwinding from her trip hard to accomplish.

  She couldn’t shake the persistent paranoia. Someone had been watching her and, like a coward, she’d locked herself in the bathroom after dropping off her father’s journal and the gold ring he’d given her into her safety deposit box. No windows, only one door. Like she could shut out the world. Shut out the last twelve hours and the flight home. Alone.

  The hope she’d discover something in Rio to jog her memory had blossomed upon first reading her father’s daily entries after the funeral less than a week ago. He’d explained how he’d found her in the middle of the ocean, naked, dazed, cold. Nothing about Jacob. Nothing about her life before he’d pulled her onto his boat deck. Dead ends. Every single one of them.

  The soreness between her legs and the memories of her last night in Rio echoed throughout her body. She’d been positive the only way to get back the life she’d lost had been to sleep with Jacob. He was her husband, so surely she should have remembered him, remembered being with him. Now she had nothing but the hole he’d left behind, gaping with emptiness.

  They’d been in love. Married.

  That much she’d surmised from the broken expression on his face as he closed the door behind him. How it had ended or why, she had no idea, but finding out added one more reason to investigate her past. Even if he wouldn’t help her, she’d set things right. Something told her he deserved the peace.

  You’ll never see me again.

  What else had he said? That he’d keep them from finding her. Someone from her past. It seemed like a long shot, but what did she know? She couldn’t even remember a man who’d obviously been a massive part of her life. Her husband.

  Tears pricked her eyes, and she struggled not to let them fall. She’d wanted exactly what happened that night and she’d make herself deal with the consequences, which, thanks to safe sex, would just be emotional.

  She had no one else.

  Sinking down lower, she submerged herself under the scalding bath water then watched
the wick of a vanilla candle at the edge of the tub. Her eyelids grew heavy, the water calming every inch of her tense body, but not the dull ache in her chest.

  She’d run out of leads. Again.

  As she leaned her head against the back of the tub, she gazed, unfocused, at the chaotic designs etched into her ceiling, each moving with the flicker of candlelight. Had her desperation really been so great it had given her delusions? Was that the type of person she’d become? Vdarra shook her head. She hadn’t imagined the familiarity between them. It’d been real. He’d been real. Every touch. Every look. Every word. The memory of his body on top of hers sent her pulse into overdrive, and a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. Her mind couldn’t have conjured those images. She didn’t imagine the emotions engraved into her memories.

  But her mind had failed her before.

  She sobered immediately. Twenty years of her life had gone missing in an instant, assuming her father had been honest about her age.

  For a man who’d claimed to be her father, to know every detail of her life, Edward Jansen had always given her a reason to doubt him. No photos. No willingness to talk about her mother, long dead, according to him. No evidence at all to justify his claim over her. Nothing. Yet he’d taken her into his home upon finding her in in the Atlantic, given her food, and treated her as his own. If that wasn’t a father, she didn’t know what qualified.

  Out of habit, she reached for the thin, gold band on the middle finger of her right hand. She’d already forgotten she’d taken it to the bank, felt naked without it. Plain, except for the stamp of the inscription on the inside, the ring held more value to her than any possession. Her father had given it to her one year after her recovery in hopes it would jog her memory. His plan had failed, miserably, yet she loved the ring all the same.

  The candlelight flickered in quick, short bursts, and then stood stock-still. Her hand sank to the bottom of the tub, muscles giving into the surrounding heat.

  Black wings filled her vision, stretching higher and wider than any other, as a wall of flames danced behind him. Seated on his throne of the damned, a younger version of her father smiled down at her, his irises darkening black. Thousands of monsters bowed before him, herself included, as he gave his next set of orders: kill them all.

  A knock at the front door pulled her back to reality, and she jolted. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub. Trying to catch her breath, she rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. Streaks of lightning bolted behind her eyelids. She’d fallen asleep, but the nightmare had seemed so…real. An ache formed just below her breastbone. She rubbed at it, making a mental note to take a couple Tylenol before bed.

  The knocking continued.

  “I guess the world doesn’t stop just because I want it to.” She pushed her body from the water. Dressing fast to seal in the warmth, she pulled on the day’s jeans and T-shirt discarded at the side of the tub. And she couldn’t forget the gun, stuffing it down the back of her jeans. She trekked toward the front door, stopped to run her fingertips over a photo of her father. Wrinkled, weakened, flawed. Nothing like the nightmare.

  A quiver of electricity slid down her neck as she neared the door.

  The sword plunged through her heart, every nerve in her body on fire as the tip exited her back. Green eyes, beautiful, watched her from above as she bled onto the foliage.

  She dropped to the floor. Agony erupted in the center of her chest. Her breath caught in her throat. Her pulse quickened, her hands clammy as beads of sweat built on her forehead. Exhaustion slithered into every crevice of her body, the pain directly over her sternum growing. Dizziness took hold, the room shifting violently. “Oh, God.”

  She leaned back against the couch. Breathe. She had to breathe. Pressing the palms of her hands to her head, she rubbed slowly, trying to even out her pulse.

  Those eyes. She’d seen them before.

  Jacob’s eyes.

  Remnants of the daydream, or whatever it had been, lingered throughout her body. Phantom pain. It’d been so real, as if she’d been stabbed. She’d never had vivid hallucinations before, although she couldn’t discount the possibility. Since her father had died, she’d practically gone insane. Again, the sensation of being watched crawled across her skin. A chill raced down her back as she imagined the possibility she really was losing her mind.

  “Vdarra Jansen? Everything okay in there?” Feminine voice. Another knock.

  She took a deep breath, trying to reign in her paranoia. The damn super should’ve had the brains to install peepholes in the tenants’ doors. The pain disappeared. She’d live. Just a night terror. Struggling to her feet, she tried keeping her balance and her breathing even as she pulled the door open.

  Dressed in NYPD blue, a female police officer stood in the hallway. Long stringy white-blonde hair framed an elfish face beneath the uniform hat. Her eyebrows, more brown than the blonde of her hair, razored down over prominent eye sockets, almost like they’d been drawn on. Slim build, strong. Not at all what she’d expected from NYPD.

  “Can I help you?”

  The officer glanced up from the notebook in her hand. Gray eyes, grayer than she’d ever seen before, narrowed at her question. Like Jacob’s impossible green, they seemed to be glowing. “Vdarra Jansen?”

  She crossed her arms over her midsection. Her clothing stuck to her skin, a consequence of not drying off before she got dressed. “Yeah. What’s this about?”

  “May I come in?” It was more of a demand than a question.

  “Okay.” Pushing back against the door, she motioned the officer inside. As she stepped into the living room, Vdarra put her age around twenty-five, thirty maybe. She held the authority common to NYPD officers, but something about this woman bothered her, like a scab itching to be taken off. The sick feeling remained clenched in her gut as she closed the door behind her and stroked the hem of her shirtsleeve. The nightmare and subsequent hallucination had unnerved her more than she’d originally thought. She waited for the blonde to talk, but the officer only studied her surroundings. Sizing her up?

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  The cop faced her with a look of surprise, as if she hadn’t expected the question. Her lips creased into a tight line, and the wrinkles around her mouth became more pronounced. “Smith.”

  Very generic. Glancing at the nametag on her uniform, Vdarra confirmed the information, but her stomach had yet to unclench. Warning bells sounded loud in her head, although she didn’t know why. “What can I do for you, Officer Smith?”

  “How did you know Jacob Strauss?”

  Jaw-clenching tension flittered through her muscles. “What’s this about?”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Officer Smith said calmly.

  Vdarra fought the natural urge to step in close, again taken back by the uneasiness crawling throughout her entire body. She halted. Heat crawled up her neck and into her face. “We happened to meet up on a trip I recently took to Rio de Janeiro.”

  The officer looked down at the notepad. “And you haven’t come into contact with him since that day?”

  “No.” Not since he’d walked out on her. “How do you find out we knew each other anyway? We met in Brazil.”

  “Did anything about him seem off? Was he jumpy, paranoid?”

  “You’re really not going to answer my questions?”

  Officer Smith stared at her, waiting.

  “Fine. Not that I saw, but I wouldn’t know. Like I said, we’d just met. Can you tell me what this is about?” Her voice shifted from calm and collected to frantic and high-pitched. “Did something happen to him?”

  “He’s missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?”

  “Early this morning, we found evidence of a struggle in his home. Broken furniture, some of his personal effects thrown about as though someone had been searching for something.” Officer Smith’s clear gray eyes concentrated on the notepad in her hand. “Have you had any contact with him s
ince his return to the States? Did he tell you anything about what the intruders may have been looking for?”

  “No. Oh my God.” They’d found him. Whoever he’d tried protecting her from had taken him. She needed to sit, and headed toward the couch before she collapsed. Wild thoughts raced through her mind as she imagined every second her husband had been missing and she hadn’t realized.

  Officer Smith blocked her way.

  Another bang on the door made her whirl.

  “Expecting company?” Officer Smith’s gaze narrowed on the door, and, for a moment, Vdarra swore those gray irises had shifted red. Another hallucination?

  She glanced at the clock on the microwave. Seven in the morning. Nobody in his right mind would be awake this early except her. “No.”

  Maybe Jacob had played some sick joke on her. Maybe he’d be standing on the other side of the door, listening in while trying to keep his laughter under control. In that case, her one-night stand would need to run as fast as he could before she chased him down with the .38 still weighing down the right side of her jeans. She reached for the handle a second time, flinging the door open.

  A familiar face stared back at her with a smile. Dark hair, chiseled jawline. Blue eyes, so intense, widened ever so slightly. His smile disappeared, and he scratched a hand over the thick five o’clock stubble.

  “Sorren?” The abrupt sting of tears pushed her into her neighbor’s arms. She let him wrap his big, gym-made arms around her, and sank against his chest. She hadn’t told her closest friend about Jacob or the night he’d left her in Rio, but friends didn’t have to share personal details to comfort one another. How had he known she’d needed a shoulder to cry on? “What are you doing here?”

  “I was just bringing over your mail. Everything okay?” His hand stroked down her back, then stopped.

  She pulled back at the abrupt change and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

  Sorren stared over her head. At her guest.

  “Oh,”—she motioned to the blonde—“this is Officer Smith from the NYPD. She’s here asking questions about someone…who’s gone missing.”