Max's Desire

by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  “What’s happened?”

  Killian sucked in his cheeks. He wiped his mouth and let out a long breath.

  “I’ve been sent on a mission.”

  Max cocked his head. “And?”

  “I can’t tell you more.” Killian grabbed another slice. “But since you were planning to take a vacation anyway.” He glanced at Max’s open bedroom door, his half-made luggage on full display. “Maybe you should go to Earth with me.”

  “What? Are you drunk?”

  Killian shook his head. He swallowed his bite and looked at him, his demeanor serious. “You were going there anyway, weren’t you?”

  Max rolled his empty beer bottle between his hands.

  “I hadn’t decided on my destination,” he mumbled.

  Killian snorted.

  “My ass. You were going to Earth to look for Eva. I’ve known you for some time now, Max, but I especially know what it’s like to find your mate. I’ve been through the despair, the obsessive thoughts, the hopelessness, and my mate wasn’t in another dimension.”

  “Eva’s not my mate.”

  “You hadn’t added two and two yet?” Killian stood and went to the fridge. He pulled out another two bottles and opened them.

  “She was just a woman I tried to help and failed.” Max took the drink and gulped down a mouthful. “Eva can’t be my mate, Killian. I’ve only seen her once in Lust’s realm. It’s impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible.” Killian leaned forward. “I know where she is,” he whispered.

  Max’s eyes widened. Something within him stirred, traveling across every cell, leaving behind a sweet tingling which culminated at his heart, sending it into a frenzied beat.

  “Where?” he gasped.

  “Madrid, Spain.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can’t tell you that.” Killian’s blue gaze pierced into him, and Max saw a dangerous glint in his eyes.

  “Your new mission,” Max said flatly.

  “I can’t stop what is going to happen,” Killian continued. “But if you happen to be in the same place at the same time. Coincidences happen, after all.”

  Max nodded. The ringing in his ears kept him from responding. His friend was risking a leg and a limb to give him this information. Killian could be demoted or worse, kicked out, if they found out he was divulging classified information.

  “Why? Why are you telling me this?”

  Killian clasped his shoulder, his grip strong, steadying.

  “Because I know what it’s like to be you, and I wouldn’t wish that desolation on my worst enemy.”

  Chapter Nine

  Max entered the large space. Wooden floors combined with neoclassic columns, elegant prints, and pastel colors gave the room a distinguished air. The crystal chandeliers added to the sophisticated style, their bright light illuminating the guests like sun beams on a warm evening. Set on a platform, a small orchestra played classical music. Dressed in their finest, the crowd, a variety of people ranging in age from their twenties to around their seventies, mingled.

  And in the shadows, a host of Inferum waited. Max’s skin crawled. He clenched his fists, wishing he carried his sword. The Sin’s minions had reduced their real size, becoming small, repulsive creatures with webbed feet, sharp teeth, and sunken eyes, slinking around until the opportune moment to attack a victim presented itself.

  Max turned his back to them. The sight of those bastards made him want to go on a rampage, but he couldn’t do anything. Guardians weren’t allowed to act in the human plane, least of all with a hundred witnesses. Here they were simply watchers. They observed, reported, and let the Human-Guardians handle it.

  He rubbed his chest, hating the constricting tuxedo he was forced to wear. He would rather be naked than wearing this. If he were shirtless, the Inferum might run when they saw his Guardian tattoo, and he wouldn’t have to stand here like an idiot watching them play games.

  A waiter offered him a drink and Max took the flute. He sipped. His brow furrowed. It was quite dry for champagne, but he chugged it down anyway.

  Still no sign of Eva or Killian.

  His friend hadn’t shared too many details concerning his mission since they’d both agreed the less he knew, the better off they’d be if Aslan got word. Frankly, he’d come to the conclusion his boss was the least of his worries. His number one priority was getting Eva out of there by one a.m., and he had no idea how he was going to do it. He believed his natural charm would suffice—after all, he’d never had any problems picking up women, but Eva was different. If she was a succubus, she could potentially kill him, which meant he’d have to tread carefully. One wrong move and she’d open up his chest and dig out his heart. Max balked, nausea hitting him unexpectedly. Searing pain reverberated through him. The room spun. The walls began to close in, and invisible hands pressed his windpipe.

  Not now, Max. Not now.

  He breathed slowly through his nose but didn’t shut his eyes, afraid if he did, the nightmare would become reality and he’d find himself still at the hands of the monster.

  Eva.

  He had to focus on her. He’d promised to help her. He recalled the feeling of her lips on his forehead. Not only their softness, but also the tenderness she’d put into the kiss, and the underlying sorrow, giving him an apology he didn’t deserve.

  Eva.

  Little by little, he regained his bearings, taking in a shaky breath. Max stopped a waiter and asked for a glass of water. Searching for an empty seat and finding none, he opted to lean against a column. He glanced at his watch. Almost eleven p.m. and still Eva and Killian hadn’t appeared.

  “Disculpe señor, su agua.”

  Max took the glass and thanked the server. He drank, savoring the cool liquid against his burning throat. Everything was all right. There were no demons here and surely, Eva would come soon.

  He scanned the room again. His jaw dropped. At the top of the staircase stood a couple, and at a respectful distance, whispering into a headpiece, was Killian. Max observed them. He didn’t know the stocky forty-something man, but the woman in the red mermaid dress was strangely familiar. They descended into the party, ambling past him without a glance. The hairs on the back of his neck stood.

  Magic.

  The woman exuded it like a meteorite’s stardust. A group of people standing near the musicians welcomed the man, who introduced his companion. Who were they? Why was Killian guarding them?

  “Pedro.”

  Startled, Max spun around at the over enthusiastic greeting. Curious, he lifted his gaze to see the newcomer. His breath hitched. The wound on his chest throbbed, sending his heart into a rapid flutter.

  Eva.

  She handed her coat to the coat-check attendant, then tucked her arm into the crook of the man called Pedro. Max gaped. The helpless woman he’d met at Lust no longer existed. A seductress had taken her place. She moved slowly, every step designed to show off her figure. Her dress, made from some gauzy material, floated around her, parting at the leg and revealing glimpses of her creamy flesh. His cock twitched and he forced his gaze upward. A gold chain dangled between her breasts, drawing attention to her plunging neckline. His mouth watered. He took in her face. Her dark hair hung loose, framing her cheekbones, bright red lips, and feline eyes. He couldn’t remember ever having seen a vision so lovely or so arousing.

  She glided past him. Her fragrance, something akin to tuberose or jasmine, wafted up his nose. Ravenous desire tore through him and he growled low. As if she’d heard him, her head whipped around. Their gazes locked, her lips parted, and a flicker of recognition sparked in her eyes, vanishing seconds later when her escort tugged on her arm.

  “You should close your mouth, or are you trying to catch flies?” Killian materialized at his side. “Don’t move,” he warned him.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Max whispered.

  His friend chuckled.

  “My charge took longer than expected to get ready.” />
  “The woman? She looks familiar, not to mention she stinks of magic. A spell caster? Here?”

  “It’s none of your business, Max. Concern yourself with getting out of here before one. Shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Killian.”

  “Don’t mention it. You’d do the same for me.” He paused. “Be careful, Max. You’re not at your best.” Killian regarded him, before setting off again to join his protégée. Max watched them. The woman’s face lit up at the sight of Killian, but she hurried to disguise it. Killian, on the other hand, skimmed his fingertips across her lower back and bent his head to tell her something. She leaned into him, the affection between them almost palpable. Suddenly, the woman stiffened and shrugged away. Max didn’t know who she was, but one thing was for sure, those two were more than employer and employee. However, Killian was right. Whatever was happening between them, and here tonight, wasn’t his problem.

  Taking a deep breath, he scanned the room. It was time for him to find Eva and leave.

  Chapter Ten

  Eva tried not to fidget. She nodded politely at the woman in front of her, pretending to pay attention to whatever she was saying, but her mind, along with her raging hormones, had been left at the bottom of the staircase when she’d seen Mr. Sexy in a Tux.

  She took a sip of her champagne flute. She didn’t know who he was, but when their gazes had crossed something within her had changed. A current had traveled down her spine, sparking every cell in her body alive. She’d heard a click, as if the lock of a deeply buried chest had opened, setting thousands of butterflies into flight and releasing a feeling she’d never given wings to but now craved to let loose.

  She hungered to return to him and demand more information. Who was he? Where had he come from? Would she drown in the blue of his eyes, or would he save her? She shook her head, trying to rid herself of her fanciful imaginings.

  In her line of work, she couldn’t allow herself the luxury to get caught up in fantasy. If she did, she’d lose herself and it was a risk she could never take.

  Feet on the ground, Eva.

  She focused on the people around her. Fancy gowns, insincere smiles, fake laughter, and the constant need to show off and one-up the person next to you. A bitter tang filled her mouth, and she set her glass down.

  This is your world, Eva.

  Her gaze landed on the stranger on the other side of the room. He didn’t belong here. He stood out like a flower in a desert: too big, broad, and serious. He was alone, no drink in his hand. She bit her lip. She couldn’t be sure, but with his height and body, he was either James Bond or a model. Her heart somersaulted. Alone at a party? He could be a possible client. If it were the case, she could approach him openly, without danger of letting loose another set of brightly colored insects in her belly. It was simply another business transaction. Now, all she needed to do was get rid of Pedro and his crowd for a few minutes. She touched her date’s arm.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” she whispered.

  Pedro patted her knee.

  “Of course,” he said. “No tardes.”

  “I won’t take long,” she promised. Excusing herself, she headed to the restrooms. Luckily, they were empty, so after quickly using one of the toilet stalls, she washed her hands and redid her makeup. Fluffing her hair, she smiled at her reflection. No man could ever resist her, and Mr. Sexy in a Tux wouldn’t be the first. She returned to the party and caught sight of him. He hadn’t budged. Throwing her shoulders back, she sauntered in his direction. A waiter offered him a drink, the last one on the tray, and he took it. It was just the opening she needed.

  “Te llevaste el ultimo,” she said.

  The sexy hunk stared at her. Eva tilted her head and pouted. The signature move always made men topple over, but he didn’t react. His gaze drifted over her face as if he were seeing a ghost. Eva straightened. Weird. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. She pointed to his glass.

  “Lo compartes?”

  Nothing. Most men immediately accepted to share whatever she asked for, but Mr. Sexy didn’t say anything. Her smile faltered. Heat crept up her neck.

  “Do you speak Spanish?” she asked in English, glad she had learned the language as a child.

  Abruptly, he laughed. It vibrated through her like the thrum of a base guitar, sending a rush of desire across her.

  “No, I’m sorry. I have no idea what you were saying.”

  Eva inhaled sharply. If his laughter aroused her, his voice almost gave her an orgasm. She’d never heard anything so sensual. It caressed her intimately, bringing goosebumps to her flesh, but there was also a soothing quality to it, reminding her of something, though she couldn’t pinpoint what. “Have we met?” she asked.

  “I don’t think we have,” he said. “I would surely remember.”

  The heat of his gaze traveled up her body and she smiled. Now, they were speaking the same language. She moved closer, invading his personal space.

  “I’m Eva,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  “Max.”

  “Max,” she repeated. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against one of his cheeks. He took a step back, his indrawn breath audible.

  Eva giggled.

  “I’m so sorry. I always forget foreigners aren’t used to our ways. We give two kisses as a manner of greeting here. Forgive me for being brash.”

  To her delight, he recovered quickly and pressed closer.

  “Then you owe me another,” he said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Max’s heart fluttered with excitement. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and the tips of his fingers itched to bring the woman before him into his arms.

  Grasping his forearm for balance, Eva leaned into him. He took the opportunity to hold her at the waist. She didn’t complain, instead, pressing her lips to his other cheek and imprinting the velvety shape of them against his skin. His fingers tightened, the sensual kiss sending a dart of longing straight to his groin. He gazed into her eyes. Time slowed to a crawl. Emotion clogged his throat. It was her. Killian had been right. Every bit of him yearned for Eva, clawed at his heart to open up and invite her inside.

  “It’s a pleasure,” she said, the husky tone tinged with an accent.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Eva,” he managed.

  She didn’t move and he had no intention of releasing her. A crease formed at her brow and she blinked.

  “You know, you look so familiar,” she murmured.

  Max stiffened. He didn’t want her to remember the nightmare, didn’t want to drag her into the blackness where they had first met.

  “So, what where you trying to say to me in Spanish?” he asked, hoping to distract her.

  She smiled. Her eyes took on a predatory gleam, reminding him of a feline out on the prowl, the shadowy brushes of her makeup magnifying the effect. Lust hit him in the gut. He would play the willing mouse—for a bit.

  “I was informing you that you’d taken the last drink,” she said.

  “You mean this one?” He tilted the glass he still held in his hand. It was a miracle he hadn’t dropped it.

  “Exactly.” Eva wrapped her hand around the stem of the flute, over his fingers. “And then I asked if you’d share.” Deftly, she plucked it from his grasp.

  Max chuckled. Brazen little thing.

  “I took it for you, kitten,” he declared.

  “Really?”

  Without breaking visual contact, she sipped at the amber liquid. Max’s cock stiffened.

  “Minx,” he growled, bringing her closer and taking back the beverage. He drank deeply, finishing it off.

  “Are you sure you weren’t just taking it because you needed some liquid courage?”

  Her sultry laughter fueled his passion and he pressed into her, forcing her to tip her head back to look at him. She licked her lips, her hunger open and all consuming.

  “I’ve had my eyes on you from the moment you walked in. I don’t need courage, ki
tten.”

  “Then what were you waiting for?”

  “The right moment. You didn’t come alone,” he stated.

  “No,” she admitted.

  “But you’re not wearing a wedding ring.” Max clenched his teeth, the unpleasant thought worming its way into him. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  Eva grasped the lapels of his jacket, skimming the material. She tilted her pelvis, coming into contact with his raging hard-on. Max’s gasp was drowned out by hers.

  “No,” she rasped. “He’s a client.”

  “A client? What do you do?”

  “Ahem.”

  Max whipped around to the uncomfortable throat clearing. A waiter, cheeks blazing crimson, stood modestly to the side.

  “Su copa, señor?”

  Max stared blankly at him.

  Eva grasped the empty flute and handed it to the embarrassed man.

  “Gracias,” she said.

  “Gracias,” Max repeated. As soon as he was gone, he turned back to Eva, crowding her against the column once more. She smiled warmly but didn’t angle her body in the same way. He frowned. Damn waiter.

  “Where were we?” he asked.

  “We were speaking about my client.”

  “Ah yes. So if he’s a client, he won’t mind if I steal you away.”

  “Actually, I’m supposed to spend the night with him.”

  “Supposed to is not the same as have to.”

  “I know.”

  “Ditch him and come with me.”

  “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

  The disappointment in her eyes tugged at his heartstrings. He would be in Madrid as long as he needed to be to court her, but tonight she had to come with him. Max cupped her chin. “Tonight.” He bowed his head, brushing his mouth over hers. A shiver ran down his spine. His lips tingled, aching to delve deeper. “Will you make me company tonight, Eva?” he whispered.