by Eden Bradley
She thought briefly, longingly, of Asmodeus, of his sensual instruction, his teachings about her body. How to please the body of a man. She thought of his low voice, the way it seemed to caress her skin, even though he never touched her. Looking at Declan, she let her gaze wander to his mouth, then his hands. She wanted to touch his mouth, to press her lips to his. To feel his hands on her. Not only her cheek, her arm, but all over her body. Her breasts, between her thighs… “She taught me nearly all things…”
She wanted Declan so badly she ached with it. But he seemed interested only in talking with her now. Perhaps when she had healed he would want her. When she was strong enough to take a man into her body, as she had waited her entire life to do. She squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache there.
“I’m sorry, Declan. What did you ask?”
“I asked if you’re feeling up to talking about this. The Grandmother. Your life with her.”
“It hurts to think of her. That I will not see her again.” She paused, her fingers twisting in the sheet. “That I have been cast out.”
“That’s what happened to you? You were cast out?”
She shrugged. “Yes. I will never go back there, to the compound. To The Grandmother. Even if I knew my way back. I don’t know what I will do now, what my life will be.”
“I’ll help you figure that out. We just need to find a place for you when you’re released in a few days. I’ll talk to your doctor, figure things out from there. Okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, Declan.”
She reached for him, took his hand. Surprise rippled across his face, then his fingers closed around hers, his skin warm and dry. And an arc of desire flickered over her skin. She could see in his face he felt it, too. He tried to draw his hand back, but she held on as tightly as she could.
“Angel…”
“Don’t let go, Declan. Don’t let me go.”
He stared at her, his lips parted. She wanted more than ever to feel his kiss on her lips, her flesh.
He cleared his throat. “I have to go. I have to talk to the doctor now.”
She sighed. “But you’ll be back?”
“Yes. I promise.”
She released his hand, but her body was still filled with wanting. And she was so tired. She was always tired now, it seemed.
“I think I will sleep while you’re away.”
“I’ll shut off the light on my way out.”
He smiled, stood and left the room. Left her system humming with need.
She lay in the dark, wishing sleep would come so she could call to Asmodeus to satisfy her needs. But sleep eluded her.
Instead, she let her left hand, the one undamaged, wander beneath the cool white sheet, over her body. She touched her breasts, her fingertips feathering over the hardening nipples, imagining Declan’s touch. Her breasts grew full, warm, her nipples like two stones, the flesh rising to meet her fingers. She pulled on them lightly, then harder, as Asmodeus had often instructed her, bringing them to two fine points.
She spread her thighs and dipped her hand between them, desire swarming her as her fingers slipped in the wetness there. She rubbed the lips of her sex, felt them swell beneath her touch.
What would Declan’s hands feel like between her thighs? His mouth?
“Ah…”
Pleasure stabbed deep, simply thinking about his head between her thighs, his tongue hot and wet. Asmodeus had often told her how this could be done. Her hips arched and she slid one fingertip inside her sex, careful not to probe too deeply, not to breach her maidenhead. But how she wanted that sensation of being filled. By Declan.
She pictured his face once more, looking at her body. Would he keep his gaze on hers as he entered her? Or would his eyes clench shut in ecstasy?
She shivered, need shimmering through her in small waves that grew moment by moment. She pressed the heel of her hand against her mound, hard over her tight clitoris.
Declan…
Would he kiss her as he drove into her body? Would he put his hot mouth on her neck? Take her nipples into his mouth?
“Ah…”
Her hips were pumping up to meet her hand, her sex growing wetter and wetter. And in her mind it was Declan’s hands on her, his mouth, drawing her nipples in, his tongue swirling over the tips while he pressed deep into her flesh.
Her climax shimmered like a mirage in the distance, then roared through her, taking her by surprise. Hard and fast, the spasms of pleasure taking her over, blinding her.
Declan…
Asmodeus’s voice resonated in her head.
Come, girl. Come for me.
“No, not for you. For him,” she whispered.
Declan.
Only for him.
She thought she heard Asmodeus’s roar, but her climax was like thunder in her ears, dazzling her, deafening her.
It left her trembling, only that first keen edge satisfied. She wanted him still. She was meant for him, she was certain of it.
Comforted, her body relaxed, and finally she slept.
CHAPTER FOUR
DECLAN PULLED UP IN FRONT of the hospital and stepped out of his truck. It was a classic Mendocino spring day, the air damp and still heavy with fog, even though it was nearly noon. He patted Liam, who was standing in the truck bed, his stumpy tail wagging, his big tongue lolling.
“Hope you aren’t opposed to change, boy,” he told the dog, knowing full well he was the one who was anxious about it.
He was taking Angel home today. To his home. He still couldn’t quite believe it. Still wasn’t certain it was the right thing to do. But what other options were there?
He’d talked to Stephen, to the nurses. She’d need some care for a while, and he could take some time off work, hire a nurse to come in to check on her between doctors’ appointments. That wasn’t a problem. But to have her in his house, where her sweet, earthy body tempted him beyond anything he’d experienced before…
He could handle it. Would handle it. She really had no place else to go.
There was no one else to take responsibility for her. The county didn’t want to deal with her, do anything for her. And both Stephen and his dad seemed to think this was the best option for her.
He made his way down a long hallway to the elevator, pressed the button.
The local psychotherapist they’d assigned her to was Ruth Hehewuti, who had evaluated her and had agreed Angel should go to Declan’s house until she was able to care for herself. Ruth was also his father’s girlfriend, which he didn’t like much.
Still, Ruth was one of a handful of qualified therapists in the small coastal town, and Stephen had highly recommended her, so that was something. He’d met her a few times when he’d run into Oran and Ruth at one of the local diners, the grocery store, the farmers’ market. He’d never done more than offer a gruff greeting to the woman. He’d certainly never made an effort to get to know her. He knew he was being a jerk about it. The way he felt about his dad and his dad’s relationship with her wasn’t Ruth’s fault. But he hadn’t been able to help it. Seeing them together always made his blood boil.
He’d had one meeting with her the other day to discuss Angel’s case, and he’d had to put his issues aside for Angel’s sake. She seemed like a nice enough woman, he had to admit grudgingly. She was a lot nicer to him than he probably deserved. A Hopi healer and shaman, Stephen had told him, in addition to being a practicing therapist. He wasn’t sure how he felt about all that spiritual stuff, but Angel was going to need some help adjusting to a world that was strange and new to her. Some help dealing with the trauma of her past, although she didn’t seem to be particularly traumatized by it. She accepted it all pretty calmly, other than being sad about leaving behind that crazy old woman—the woman who had held her captive for what the police and her doctors figured was a good sixteen years, since she was around five years old.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, pressed the button for the fourth floor.
He
’d been able to piece together some bits of information during some of her more coherent moments. The picture painted from the things she said, the injuries, the marks on her body, was pretty damn ugly. Unbelievable, still, no matter how many times he went over it in his head.
The nursing staff was really coddling her. Not that he didn’t think she deserved to be coddled, but nurses were usually made of stern stuff, and they all clucked over her like a bunch of mother hens. Anyone in the hospital who knew anything of Angel’s story was horrified. Even the police he’d spoken with seemed shocked. Hell, so was he. Shocked by what she’d been through. By what that grandmother woman had done to her, for years. But Angel was attached to her.
Stockholm Syndrome, Ruth had told him it was called, the weird, psychological phenomenon where victims came to love their kidnappers. He found it hard to relate to, but he’d done some reading and had at least a basic understanding of it. He was trying, anyway, for Angel’s sake. She would definitely need some help with that. It seemed like some pretty twisted shit to him.
The doors opened and he moved down the hall, grateful it was the last time he’d have to see this place for a while. Too many memories here of his mother’s last days. Too many memories of Abby’s body in the hospital morgue in Bahrain. He fucking hated hospitals.
The nurses nodded to him as he passed their station. He’d been coming here for two weeks, and knew most of them by name.
He paused at the door to her room, took a deep breath. His life was about to change. He hadn’t wanted this kind of responsibility for another human being. It scared the shit out of him frankly. But he wouldn’t turn his back on her.
The fact was, he couldn’t.
When he stepped into the room she was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, her casted leg resting on a chair that was pulled close. The pale sunlight came through the open blinds, gilding her long hair so that it looked more silver than gold. She was dressed in a long-sleeved dress that was the same summer-blue as her eyes. He’d never seen her in real clothing before. She looked different to him. More real. But her smile was the same as ever: brilliant, trusting, innocent and sensual all at the same time.
Lust kicked him hard in the gut. He had to suck in a breath, command himself to calm down.
“Declan! I go home with you today.”
“Yes.”
“I am so happy.”
“Me, too.”
He smiled back at her. He couldn’t help it. She was so beautiful, this girl. So vulnerable. He would do anything for her. He stepped closer.
It wasn’t the first time that thought had passed through his mind. Better not to think about it now, to analyze it. Just get her to the house, get her settled in. He could think about all that other shit when he was alone later in his room. In his bed…
Don’t even go there.
“How are you doing today? Feel okay?”
“I’m just excited.” She paused, her smile fading. “Sheriff Bullock came again today with that policeman.”
She never said the investigating officer’s name—she didn’t like him.
His stomach tightened. He didn’t like to hear when the guy was questioning her without him being there. But at least Tim had been. “Want to tell me about it?”
She glanced away, her fingers smoothing the edge of the sheet on the bed. “He always asks the same questions. He doesn’t like that I only have the same answers.”
“No, I guess he doesn’t. Don’t worry about him right now, okay?”
She sighed. “Okay.”
“Are you all ready, Angel? Do you have your stuff together?”
She’d accepted the name. So had her nursing staff, the doctors. The courts, when one of the social workers sent by the hospital had helped to file the paperwork last week that would give her an identity. It fit her.
“Yes. Liz gave me dresses and sweaters and shoes. Some of the other nurses gave me nightdresses and a brush for my hair and lotion for my skin. It smells so pretty, like my old garden. Here, smell.”
She held her hand to his face and he inhaled automatically.
God, it was her beneath the faint scent of lavender and lemons. He couldn’t imagine her smelling like anything else.
Except the raw scent of desire…
Stop it.
An orderly came in with a wheelchair, and the nurses all said their goodbyes, many of them hugging Angel. Then they were riding the elevator down, his arms piled with plastic bags holding her scant belongings. He couldn’t imagine what that was like, to go into life with nothing. Nothing to hold on to, no certainty.
Except for him.
If he thought about it too long the sense of responsibility was overwhelming. He’d chosen not to think about it much.
They reached the ground floor and the orderly wheeled Angel out to his truck. Liam was there, tail-stub wagging like crazy, but he knew not to try and jump out.
“Oh!”
“Angel, are you afraid of dogs? I didn’t think to ask. Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no. The Grandmother has dogs. I liked them. It’s just that…I know him. I saw him. I thought he was Cerberus. I thought…but he’s not. He’s yours.”
Cerberus? The three-headed dog who guarded the gates of hell? She was confused, that was for sure. But he guessed that was normal. Ruth and Stephen had both told him that having to leave the hospital today was going to be another shock for her.
“Liam can ride in the back of the truck. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.”
“Can he sit with me? Is there room?”
“You want him to sit with you? He slobbers like crazy.”
“Yes. Please, Declan. He is my protector, just as you are.”
She was smiling, holding her hand out, trying to reach for Liam as the orderly helped her to stand up. The dog came to the edge of the truck bed, laid his face in her palm, nuzzling her, his brown gaze on her, adoring.
What the hell had gotten into the dog? He was always friendly, but this… He’d never seen him act this way with anyone.
“If you’re sure.” She sent him a dazzling smile. He really could not refuse her anything. “Okay, let’s get you into the truck, then we’ll get Liam.”
He helped her into the cab, laying her crutches in the truck bed, then whistled to Liam. The dog jumped in, settled himself politely next to Angel, his big muzzle resting against her cheek. She was murmuring to the big animal, smiling. Declan shook his head as he went around and got into the driver’s seat.
He thanked the orderly, started the truck and pulled onto the Shoreline Highway.
Some of the fog had cleared; trees and ocean whizzed past on either side as they headed south. He pointed out landmarks to Angel: a local inn, the junior college, but she wasn’t really paying attention.
“This has to be pretty overwhelming for you,” he told her after a while.
“I almost remember riding in a car. I know I have…”
“I keep forgetting how limited your life has been. And I’m sure I don’t know the half of it. Ruth told me everything would be new to you, but it’s hard to comprehend until I see it happening.”
“Yes, for me, too. She told me to trust you. That you would guide me. Liam will guide me, too.”
She rubbed her hand over the dog’s massive, black head.
“Looks like you two are going to be friends.”
“Yes.” She smiled again, and he had to force himself to watch the road rather than her.
Her face was healing, the cuts and bruises mostly faded, leaving her pure beauty shining through. Her hair was pulled back in some sort of clip, away from her face, revealing her high, rounded cheekbones, her fine jawline. Her mouth was even more lush, more pink, now that her health was returning. But it was her eyes that always got him: big and blue, so pure and innocent, but with a thousand lifetimes in there in some weird way.
Concentrate on the road, buddy.
“Angel, do you want me to put on some music?” He knew the nurses
had played music for her during her weeks in the hospital. Liz had brought in her own iPod and speaker dock for Angel to use.
“I love music.”
“What do you like? Anything other than Liz’s country music?”
“Everything.”
Everything. It was all so simple with her. He pushed in the CD he’d been listening to on the way to the hospital, an old Kenny Loggins album. He glanced at Angel, found a small smile on her lips as she smoothed her hand over Liam’s neck rhythmically.
“This is happy music. I like it,” she said.
“I’m glad. What else do you like? Besides music, I mean. I guess I’ve never asked.”
She shrugged. “I love the garden, growing things. I love the scent of the earth. I like to work it, to feel it in my hands, to encourage things to grow.”
“I can make a place for you to garden at the house, once your leg is better, if you want.”
“I would like that very much.”
“What else? What kind of things are you interested in?”
“I love the birds. And we sometimes had rabbits in the garden, although The Grandmother would often catch them to eat for supper. I didn’t like that, but I understand the circle of life. We must find sustenance where we can.”
He wanted to ask more about the old woman, but figured it was Ruth’s job now. And thinking about the crazy old bitch who had kept Angel prisoner sickened him.
“Anything else? What did you do at night?”
“I cooked meals, cleaned The Grandmother’s house. I knitted blankets and socks. I liked to draw, when I could. I love to read books. I wasn’t given many, never enough. Do you have books, Declan? And may I look at them?”
“I have tons of books. And of course you can read them. Read whatever you want. If there’s something you want to read and I don’t have it, I can get it for you.”
