* * * *
At nine sharp Lann opened the interconnecting door between their bedrooms. Kat had dressed in her blue dress. Lann gave her an approving look.
“I love that dress. It reminds me of a time when you wore it without underwear.”
She smiled slyly. “I know. I’m not wearing any now, either.”
His eyes darkened. “I’m torn between checking for myself to see, and feeding you.” His lips curved wickedly. “I’ll feed you first, and
then ...”
He offered her his arm, very much like he had that first evening when they met, but this time she accepted it gladly, letting him lead her downstairs.
Dinner wasn’t served outside, but in the dining room. The table was set with gold brocade, crystal, golden cutlery, and candles. The fragrance of rose oil scented the room.
“This is beautiful,” she said with appreciation.
“I wanted it to be special.”
She took the chair he held for her, glad that he didn’t elaborate on why tonight’s dinner was different. Alfonso served crab pie for starters, and Teriyaki steak with grilled root vegetables for the main course. Dessert was homemade Panna Cotta with raspberry sauce and ice cream.
Kat was content to sip her wine and listen to Lann talk. Despite the fact that he wasn’t usually talkative, he was skilled at making conversation, and she appreciated that he made the effort for her tonight, almost as if he sensed her inability to conjure words.
He didn’t tell her where he was going after Santiago, or what he was going to do there. Instead, he told her about his plans to renovate the church as a second phase of the remodeling. He held her hand while he spoke, stroking his thumb over her knuckles.
“What are your plans for after you’ve completed your thesis?” he finally asked.
She tried to sound cheerful. “Hopefully I’ll get a job somewhere back in the States.”
“And then?”
She shrugged. “Get married, have babies, and never stop flying.”
“I wish you all of those things.” He let go of her hand. “Just fly safe.”
She was going to say something, but Alfonso appeared with their coffee and tea. When Kat had finished her espresso and Lann his tea, he said, “Would you like me to show you what I have in mind for the church?”
“That sounds good.”
He led the way to the neglected church garden. They walked among weeds and untrimmed rose bushes, under the faint yellow light that fell from the porch.
“The landscaper hasn’t gotten round to it yet,” he said, “but when the garden’s done, it will look similar to the square with the statue in the first cloister. Only, instead of a statue, it will have the fountain. Let’s go inside.”
It was as if Lann needed to do this, as if sharing his plans for the church would somehow connect her to his future.
“Are you leaving the bell tower for last?” she said.
“No. I’ll start with the tower.”
Inside the church, he flicked on some spotlights. Their footsteps echoed down the path that divided the aisles.
Lann stopped in front of a statue of Saint Thomas. “I love this one, especially, for his eyes.”
Kat took a closer look. Indeed, his eyes were striking. They seemed haunted, lost and lonely.
“Why does he seem so sad?” she said.
“Because he doubts. He cannot believe until he has seen a miracle with his own eyes.”
Kat wondered if Lann was comparing himself to Thomas.
“Do you know the painting of Caravaggio?” he said.
“The Incredulity of Saint Thomas?”
“Yes. I love that painting. Sometimes I go to Berlin, just to see it in the Sanssouci Palace.”
Kat looked back at the pained face of Saint Thomas. “Do you believe in miracles?”
His voice adopted a sad note. “Not the kind I’d like to believe in.”
When she turned her head back toward Lann, he was looking at her intently with a very similar expression to that of Saint Thomas. Who was the man she had fallen for really? Would she ever know?
They continued their visit. Lann pointed out a few paintings and features, walking her around the cathedral. When they had done a full circle, he draped his arm around her shoulders.
“Now, I believe I have something to verify.”
She glanced at him with incomprehension, but when his hands went to her hips, starting to lift the fabric of her dress, she gasped. “Lann, not here.”
Once again, he had gone from sad to seductive in less than a second. Her dark, moody, sensual Russian lover ... she loved every part of him.
He glanced around. “Why not?”
“It’s a church.”
“And?”
She slapped his hands away. “Have you no morals?”
“No,” he said easily.
Lann wasn’t a man who would let his need be delayed. He pushed her outside, to the dry fountain, and turned her around.
“A better venue?” he said, his lips on her neck. All the soul stuff from before was gone. Lann had entered his predator mode.
“A little.”
She was rewarded for her less than one hundred percent enthusiasm with a gentle bite that had her crying out in both pleasure and surprise.
Lann’s hands were back on her hips. He bunched the fabric of her dress together, swiftly working the material over her hips. When her naked ass was exposed, she heard him utter a sound that sounded very much like a growl.
“You weren’t bluffing,” he said, his voice tight.
“You should know that about me by now.”
His answer was to bend her over with a hand on her lower back.
“You know what’s going to happen now, krasavitsa, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said shakily.
He stroked her dress up higher, over her breasts. “Tell me.”
“You’re going to fuck me.”
“How am I going to fuck you?” His fingers found her folds, already wet for him. He groaned with approval.
“Hard,” she said.
He bent over her and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”
Kat moaned at the promise, her body needing him as much as her soul and her mind.
“Don’t move.” His hands left her body. She heard his zipper, and the ruffling of clothes. Then his touch was back. One hand gripped her hip, while the other moved between her legs to cup her sex again. She cried out when he pressed two fingers inside, his thumb massaging her clit.
“How much do you like this, bella?”
Her back arched. She pushed closer to him, rotating her hips.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Fuck my fingers. I want to watch.”
Spurred on by his erotic talk, she did what he demanded. He allowed her to move at her own pace until she was panting with her building release. When her inner muscles started to clench around his fingers, he stilled her and withdrew his hand. She felt him moving down behind her until his tongue continued where his fingers took off.
“Lann, please let me come.”
He prolonged the torture, fucking her slowly with his tongue, but denying her the fireworks she craved. When his fingers joined his mouth, she nearly came undone. He rubbed her clit hard, evoking more whimpers and moans. Her stomach tightened. She was so close. Then his mouth was gone, and his cock was at her entrance. With one, hard stroke he pushed inside her. Her scream folded around them, just as he had promised it would. Lann bent over her, pushing with his hands on the edge of the fountain on either side of her body. He moved slowly, his breath hot on her ear.
“I’m going to miss this, bella.”
She gritted her teeth. “Please, Lann, just let me come. I can’t...”
He nipped her earlobe. “I said you’d beg, and I said I’d give you all you beg for.”
His hands moved to her shoulders, stroking up, until they folded around her neck. He didn’t apply pressure. He sim
ply kept them there in a gesture of possession and dominance that she needed more than what she ever imagined.
He almost pulled out of her, and when he pushed in again he picked up his pace, moving faster and harder. Her breathing was loud and erratic. She tried not to be noisy but it was futile. The more he stretched and burned her, the more she whimpered and moaned. The more she cried out, the more relentless he became. Her body started preparing for its release, a long, slow electric shock that worked its way from her clit outward.
“Lann, I’m going to come for you.”
His hands squeezed around her neck. It wasn’t uncomfortable or scary, but it was slightly harder to pull oxygen into her lungs. It was hot. When she came, it whipped her hard. Lann eased the grip of his hands when her orgasm started to shake her, and with the rush of air that hit her lungs and her body, it convulsed harder, longer. A second later he came, pumping his semen into her as he repeated her name.
When he was spent, Lann draped his body over hers. They were both reluctant to break their intimate contact.
“If I could, I’d stay inside you forever,” he said.
She recognized the regret in his words, and locked it away in her heart like a treasure.
“Will you sleep in my bed tonight, krasavitsa?”
Only when she had promised did he pull his softening cock from her. Kat straightened, and when she started to move her dress over her hips, he put his hand over hers to still her. His free hand went to her folds, soaked with his semen.
“I like to mark you like this, my bella.”
She sighed. “I like it too.”
He released her, pulling her dress down before zipping himself up.
“Can you walk?” he said, his eyes moving to the junction of her legs.
She gave him a cocky smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He gripped her hair, jerking her to him. “Maybe I’ll make sure you don’t walk tomorrow.”
Her breath hitched. “Is that a promise?”
He lifted her into his arms. “Yes.” He started walking in the direction of the bedroom.
* * * *
Morning came all too soon. Kat had packed her bags and collected her papers and research. No matter how hard, she wanted to be there to say goodbye when Lann left. Maybe a part of her hoped that he felt something for her, that he would change his mind and ask her for more.
Facing him in the entrance at seven, Kat already knew that wasn’t going to happen. Lann had a disturbed look about him. His eyes were cold, like when he shut himself off from the world, and his smile was automatic, like the first time they had met in his office. She realized that Lann had already said his goodbye in the neglected churchyard garden. She ached at the thought, when their lovemaking had been so passionate, so full of feeling that morning. He had taken her into his arms at 4am and had loved her tenderly, for two hours. His touch was gentle, the words he whispered full of poetry. When he let her go, it was only because he would have otherwise been late for his flight.
He simply stood there now, staring at her, his hands in the pockets of his summer coat, saying nothing. Alfonso had informed him that his luggage had been taken to the car and that his driver was waiting. The moment had arrived, yet, neither of them moved. Kat felt it building, a breakdown that was inevitable, but she wasn’t going to cry now. For that luxury, she would afford herself privacy. She wouldn’t show him how much it hurt. Knowing she couldn’t hold the tears off much longer, she forced her lips into a smile. He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, hugging him tight. Still, he didn’t speak.
From somewhere by the door she heard Alfonso clear his throat. “Excuse me, sir, you’ll be late.”
Lann’s body tensed. She could feel the hesitation in him as he pulled her even tighter against him, before pushing her away.
“Bon voyage, Lann Dréan,” she said, proud of herself for her unfaltering voice.
“You can still use the library anytime,” he finally said. “You don’t have to wait for Thursdays.” His voice lowered. “You’ll always be welcome.”
“Thank you.” If he didn’t go now, she was going to lose it in front of him and everyone.
His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “My security has cleared the paparazzi. It’s safe to go outside, but wait for my driver. He’ll take you home.”
She shook her head. “I want to take the metro. I’d appreciate it if he could just drop my things off at home.”
Lann frowned, but he nodded.
“Here.” She held the box she clutched in her hand to him.
A question flashed in his eyes as he took it, and then his frown deepened as he looked down at the velvet box. Even if they both knew what it was, he opened it, anyway. He stared at the bracelet and the ring for a moment before lifting his gaze to hers slowly. “I wanted you to have this.”
“I can’t take it, Lann. It belonged to your mother. And the ring ... I won’t need it any longer.”
“If you can’t keep the bracelet, at least keep the ring.” His tone was deep with meaning. “It’ll make me feel better.”
It wouldn’t make her feel better. She didn’t want anything that would remind her of him. It was easier like that.
“My other gifts, please tell me you’ve kept them.”
She had left the precious book he had slipped into her dresser drawer with Magda in the library, and the hairclip was still in her room. It belonged there, with her heart.
“Take care,” she said.
She waited, but he didn’t say when he’d be back. He didn’t offer her his number in New York. He didn’t ask if he could call her. Nothing.
Alfonso opened the door. “Sir.”
The single word was a silent instruction, strange coming from a butler but not when the butler was Alfonso.
Lann’s yellow eyes travelled over her one last time, and then he turned and left.
He left...
Kat stood in the entrance, hugging herself. Through the open door, she saw Alfonso holding the back door of the Jaguar for Lann. Lann’s body folded double and his tall frame slipped inside. The windows were tinted, and she couldn’t see his face, would probably never see him again. Her breath got stuck in her throat. It ached and throbbed. God, nothing had ever hurt so much. As the wheels started rolling, the car moving through the exit and down the road, Kat felt the loneliness growing around her, stretching. Suddenly, the convent was quiet. There was no one at the reception desk since it was Sunday. It was silent, like the first time the door had closed on the students and Marianne Sullivan, trapping Kat inside. She would never be able to come back here, would never be able to face the interior, the garden, the library again.
Everything she needed, her money, bankcards, identity document, and her mobile phone were in her handbag, slung over her shoulder. She had left the mobile Lann had given her in her room. Her personal belongings would have to come later. She pulled the bag against her body like a pillow. When Alfonso re-entered, he gave her a strange look of concern. It was an expression she couldn’t stand, that she had to get away from. She took the first step forward, the second, and the others followed automatically.
“Miss? Can I get you a cup of coffee? Why don’t you wait for the driver?”
She played out a brave act. “Thank you, Alfonso. I think I’d like to walk.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for everything. Can you please have my things delivered at home?”
“Of course, Miss.” He was still contemplating her with a furrowed brow when she walked through the door, from the cool shadows of the monastery, into the sunlight.
There were no flashing cameras, no people with notepads or pens. A few men in black suits–Lann’s security guards–stood on the opposite side of the road and when she started walking, they followed. Kat didn’t care. She barely paid them attention. She didn’t walk to the metro station. She walked a few blocks to a bus station. Diana had offered to come and fetch her in her Honda, or to let her borrow it as she often did, but Kat h
ad declined. It was as if she needed the bright sun of the hot summer’s day to evaporate the cobwebs in her mind. She felt hollow, unreal.
She stood in the crowd and waited for the bus. When it arrived, she got on, like everyone else, and told herself it was just another normal day. Two of the men got onto the bus with her. At her stop she contemplated her options, feeling lost. Truth was, the flat she shared with Diana would no longer feel like home. She got off, and so did the men. They stayed in the street in front of her building when she went inside.
Her old room felt foreign, as if she didn’t belong there. At least Diana wasn’t home, and Kat was relieved. She couldn’t face her yet. She lay down on her bed and cried like she had never cried before.
She was still crying when Diana came home in the early evening. Kat heard the bang of the front door.
“Kat?”
Kat was spread out on her bed, staring at the ceiling when Diana burst into her room.
“Kat! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home early? I thought you were only coming later.”
“How did you know I was home?” Kat said, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.
“Your bags are downstairs. The concierge said you didn’t want the driver to bring them up.”
“I couldn’t face him. Anyone.”
Diana’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, Kat. Come here.” She sat down and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry. You’ll meet someone new in no time.”
Kat nodded, but she knew that wasn’t true. There would never be anyone else.
* * * *
Lann was covered with the sorcerer’s blood. His hands were scorched from the lighting he had sent the evil man’s way, but it would soon heal. What wouldn’t heal so easily was his heart, the one he had given to a redhead back in Santiago. Keep her, his heart had screamed. Take her, his body had demanded. But a man like him had no future to offer a woman, his mind had said, unless he wanted her dead. Hunted. Like him. She deserved a happy, normal life.
The stench of torched flesh and sulfur filled the air, the odor sickening. His fingers dripped with the child murderer’s life juices, from the heart he had cut out of the man’s chest, just like the hellion had cut out the hearts of innocent children. He was known for his control, for his cool assessment and unemotional way of battle, not for slicing and dicing like a hacksaw madman. Cutting out the heart hadn’t been necessary. The bolt he brought down afterward would have been enough to eliminate the enemy, now a frothing puddle on the floor. But he needed the heart, wanted to send it to the criminal’s team members as a warning.
Aeromancist: The Beginning Page 14
