The second day, she had tentatively ventured out, exploring the sprawling castle and frequently observing him and the others from a distance. Seth had called ahead and dismissed the staff, so it was just the four of them. She watched them alertly when they spoke to her, but didn’t answer. Though her small form was emaciated, she refused to eat or drink anything they didn’t prepare in front of her or taste first themselves. Usually both. And always she kept her distance.
This was the first time she had voluntarily come so close to him or reached out to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, thinking she looked a bit better, though shadows pooled beneath her expressive eyes. There was more color in her cheeks. She had gained a couple pounds. He suspected she would be a beauty once her body filled out with proper nourishment.
She nodded, indicating she was okay, then cocked her head to one side. Pointing to him, she raised her eyebrows.
“Me?” His own eyebrows rose. “You want to know if I am all right?”
She nodded.
He stared at her as understanding dawned. She had felt his distress and had come to see if he was okay. Which meant she was empathic as well as telepathic.
Who was she?
Her body possessed incredible regenerative properties. Both of the fingers and both of the toes that had been crudely amputated had grown back, something even immortals were incapable of achieving (though, with Seth’s or David’s aid, severed limbs could be reattached). She seemed quite powerful.
Not as powerful as himself, but perhaps as powerful as David, whose bloodline was purer than the other immortals because he was so old. Powerful enough, no doubt, to easily detect Seth’s presence if he were to try to peek into her thoughts.
Yet she was neither immortal nor a gifted one.
It was a puzzle he had not been able to solve. And he wished now that the minds of the many dozens of armed guards he and David had had to wade through in order to save her had provided an answer. The men in white lab coats who had been torturing her no doubt could have told him but had been slain out of sheer fury, their knowledge dying with them.
She made a motion with her head, urging him to respond to her silent question.
“Am I all right?” he repeated. Looking away, he stared, unblinking, at the wall opposite him. The automated I’m fine he usually trotted out in response to the question stuck in his throat. “Not really.”
He didn’t offer her an explanation. He doubted telling her about the man he had failed so miserably—the man who had needed his help as much as she had—would reassure her and gain her trust.
Sighing, he leaned his head back.
How had he missed it? How had Sebastien’s cries gone unheard?
Gathering the loose material of her nightgown around her, the mystery woman lowered herself to the floor beside him … beyond arm’s reach, of course. Seated with her back to the wall, she covered those tiny feet with the white material, then wrapped her arms around bent knees.
Her movements ceased.
Quiet descended around them. Seth’s thoughts continued to swirl as she offered him silent solace.
Sprawled on the steps that led to the whirlpool tub, Roland watched as Sarah blow-dried her hair. The bathroom, which connected to the bedroom they had claimed for their own, was as sumptuous as the one he had painstakingly installed in his own former home.
He and Sarah had just shared a very passionate interlude in the tub behind him. She was so beautiful and sensual and funny. No other woman had ever made him laugh during sex. But, with Sarah, he would be mindless with lust one moment and roaring with laughter the next when she made some wildly inappropriate or jesting remark between gasps of ecstasy.
And he enjoyed making her laugh even more, treasured every chuckle he elicited.
A smile curled his lips.
Yesterday morning, when they had retired, he had tossed her onto the bed on her back, told her to hold on tight to the headboard, then pretended he was so far gone with lust that he couldn’t get her pants off. Removing her boots, he had grasped the hem of each pant leg—knowing her belt wouldn’t let them slide down her hips—and pulled hard. Sarah had squealed as her body had risen off the bed at least a foot.
The black jeans hadn’t budged.
Feigning frustration, Roland had growled and yanked and shook. Her body had swung wildly from side to side and bobbed up and down as though she were on an out-of-control hammock. And all the while she had clung to the headboard, dissolving into giggles that made his heart go soft and warm.
Damn, he loved her.
He loved everything about her.
So much that he couldn’t breathe when he contemplated losing her and returning to his customarily cold, isolated existence.
The scent of ripe strawberries filled the room as she directed hot air through her soft brown tresses. A white towel hugged her slender curves from breasts to midthigh, slipping lower and baring more cleavage as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
There were two sinks in front of her, above which hung two oval-shape framed mirrors. They had found everything they needed among David’s supplies. His toothbrush, comb, men’s deodorant, and straight razor were clustered around the sink on the left. Scattered around the sink on the right were Sarah’s toothbrush, ladies’ deodorant, comb, styling gel, elastic ties, the toothpaste and shaving cream they shared, and, when she wasn’t using them, her brush and the hair dryer.
He liked seeing their things together, mixing and mingling like a married couple’s.
He liked watching her perform such mundane tasks as drying or braiding her hair. It was why he hadn’t bothered to dry his own, merely running a comb through it and dragging on a pair of jeans before settling in to observe her.
It had rapidly become his favorite pastime. He felt so at peace in these moments. Almost as at peace as he did when he held her as she slept.
The whine of the dryer stopped. Sarah met his gaze in the mirror as she unplugged it and set it aside. “You’re smiling,” she said softly, the corners of her own lips turning up.
He nodded, still surprised by how naturally smiles and laughter came to him now.
She ran a brush through her hair, then set it on the counter.
He sat up, knees splayed, as she turned away from the mirror and approached him. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears were pink from the blow dryer, her skin warm and deli-ciously fragrant.
“I like it when you smile,” she confessed tenderly, tunneling her fingers through his damp hair.
Sighing in bliss, he leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his cheek against her stomach just beneath her breasts.
“You make me smile,” he murmured, no longer fighting his feelings for her. He knew it wouldn’t last, that he would lose her in the end, but had not the strength to resist the lure of the happiness—however brief it may be—that she brought him.
Tilting his head back, he rested his chin on her flat stomach and stared up at her. “My life was so barren before we met, Sarah. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Didn’t let myself feel anything.” Reaching up, he stroked her lovely face. “Then you came along with your courage and teasing and passion and woke me up.”
She cupped his face in one hand, brushing her thumb across his cheek.
“Now I feel so much that, at times, it overwhelms me,” he admitted. “I laugh. I want. I need. I live, Sarah. Because of you.”
Her eyes glimmered with moisture. “I love you, Roland.”
He rose and gathered her into a loose embrace. “I love you, too.”
A tear spilled over her lashes as she smiled up at him. “I am so glad I decided to dig my garden that morning.”
He grinned and stole a kiss. “I am, too.”
She bit her lip. “Even though I’m going to grow old?”
A sobering fact he tried not to contemplate. “We can’t know exactly what the future has in store for us. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that, y
oung or old, I will love you every day we have together and will love you every day thereafter. I don’t pretend to understand how this could have happened so swiftly, but it has. I …” He broke off, uncertain.
“What?”
“I have little experience with this.” He hadn’t even tried to court a woman in centuries. “So I don’t know if it is crass to say this or not.”
She gave him a squeeze. “You can tell me anything.”
Drawing a deep breath, he shared with her the revelation that had come to him over the preceding days. “This is the first time in my nine and a half centuries of existence that I’ve truly fallen in love.”
The words definitely took her by surprise. “But, I thought …”
“I never felt anything close to this with Beatrice. She and I were more like friends with benefits. And with Mary I had even less.”
She stared up at him, saying nothing.
Unease crept in as he began to wonder if he had just put his foot in it. “Sarah? You aren’t blinking, love. What are you thinking?”
Her stomach growled. “You are so getting laid again after I refuel.”
Emitting a bark of relieved laughter, he hugged her to him.
The bleating of his cell phone made him swear. “It’s probably Chris or Marcus reporting in.”
Releasing her, he strode through the doorway into the bedroom and retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table. “Yeah.”
“It’s Chris. I have something you need to see. All of you.”
“When and where?”
“An hour. There at David’s place. I just didn’t want to call the meeting without you okaying it first.”
He frowned. “Who are you calling in?”
“Marcus, Lisette, Étienne, and Seth.”
“Étienne is in town?” He was one of Lisette’s brothers.
Chris made a sound of impatience. “He’s lived in Winston-Salem for the past thirty years!”
Roland scowled. Winston-Salem was only fifty or sixty miles away.
Sarah joined him and touched his arm, offering comfort.
“If we meet here, one of you might inadvertently lead Bastien to us and put Sarah in danger.”
“Since I assume you won’t leave her there alone, that could be said about any meeting place you choose. David’s house is the safest bet. It has an excellent security system and several secret escape routes.”
“What secret escape routes?”
Sarah’s eyebrows flew up.
A long-suffering sigh came across the line and Roland could guess what the man was thinking: If he hadn’t shut David out, he would already know.
“I’ll tell you when I get there. I have to make these calls.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, hanging up. “Chris has found something and is calling a meeting.”
“Here?”
“Yes, they’ll be here in an hour.”
She went to the armoire and started pulling out clothing. “Who? Him and Marcus?”
“Yes, plus Seth, Lisette, and Étienne.”
Even though it had been less than an hour since they had made love, his body hardened as she tossed aside the towel and pulled on a pair of white bikini panties.
“Who is Étienne?” Her bountiful breasts swayed as she reached for a pair of black cargo pants, nipples still rosy from his earlier attentions.
“I can’t remember. All the blood in my head just rushed to my groin.”
She glanced at the erection straining against his zipper, then dropped the pants. A sly smile tilted her lips as her eyelids lowered slightly. Eyeing him as though she were imagining him naked and plunging inside her, she slowly began to circle the perimeter of the room.
“You want me?” she asked in a low, sultry voice that made his body burn.
He stared, riveted, as she raised a hand, slipped her index finger between her full lips, and sucked, reminding him how it had felt to have those lovely lips close around his cock, her tongue stroking him until he lost all control. “Yes.” The word emerged as almost a guttural growl.
“You want to be inside me?”
When she drew that finger down over her chest to stroke her breast, his knees threatened to buckle.
“Hell, yes.”
“Then you’re going to have to catch me.”
By the time the words registered, she was out the door.
Eyes widening, another smile dawning, Roland gave chase. He deliberately refrained from using his preternatural speed, curious to see where she would lead him.
Sarah sprinted down the hall to the training room and darted inside.
Slowing, he entered behind her and paused by the door. Though he wouldn’t have thought he could get any harder, he did when he realized where she was heading.
Bypassing the assorted equipment, she crossed a large empty sparring area with a padded floor and turned to face him.
“Here,” she said, continuing backward with slow sensual steps as she watched him avidly. “I want you to take me here.”
Behind her stretched a wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
Sarah jumped when Roland crossed the distance between them in a single leap. Her heart raced as he prowled toward her with all the grace of a jaguar, eyes glowing, fangs peeking out from between parted lips.
His jeans rode low on his hips, the long, hard ridge of his erection impossible to miss. Barefoot, making no sound on the padded floor, he matched her step for step. The heavy muscles in his chest and rippling abs flexed as he stalked her.
She stopped a few feet from the wall. Roland halted as well, his body so close she could feel his heat, smell his wonderful scent, unclouded by cologne. His head dipped, his warm breath falling upon her neck.
She was already wet and trembling for him.
He inhaled deeply and rubbed his face against her like an affectionate cat as he slipped one arm around her waist. “Turn around,” he whispered.
Her pulse leapt.
Swiveling in his arms, she stared at their reflection in the mirror. This is what she had wanted to see. The two of them locked together. So different, but so good together.
She leaned back into him, raising one hand to cup his head as he nuzzled the base of her neck. The arm around her waist, so strong and tan compared to her pale flesh, tightened, drawing her hips into the cradle of his so she could feel his heavy arousal. Heat seared her as his other hand slid around to cup one breast, kneading, teasing, trapping her hardened nipple between thumb and forefinger, then rolling, pinching.
She moaned, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.
“You like that?” he murmured.
She nodded helplessly, sharp darts of pleasure piercing her.
When he pulled back slightly, she moaned a protest and wavered where she stood.
His arms left her. In the mirror she saw him step back and shuck his jeans, tossing them aside.
He wore nothing beneath them.
Then he hooked his thumbs in the narrow waistband of her panties and tugged them down to her ankles, holding her steady while she stepped out of them.
Moving up behind her once more, he clasped her shoulders, trailed his hands down to her fingers, and drew her arms out away from her sides.
“Look at you.” His heated gaze, glowing that bright, otherworldly amber, swept her form. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
“Touch me,” she pleaded, every cell on fire.
A wicked grin tilted his lips. “On your knees first.”
Heart slamming against her ribs, she sank to her knees.
Kneeling behind her, he leaned forward to take her earlobe between his teeth, ever careful not to prick her with his fangs. “Spread your legs for me.”
She did so, watching his hand slide around from behind to recapture her breast.
“Wider.”
Breath shortening, she shifted until her knees were widely splayed.
Roland pressed his hard, muscled, very aroused body agains
t her back.
Brushing her hair aside, he pressed heated kisses to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Only you, Sarah.” He slid his other hand around her waist and down, burying it in the dark thatch of curls at the juncture of her thighs.
Sarah gasped, breath shortening as she watched his long, tapered fingers part the tender folds of her body, warm and slick with welcome, and delve deep inside her. First one finger, then two while his thumb circled and stroked her clit.
“Only you make me burn like this.”
She couldn’t respond. Couldn’t speak as the pleasure spi-raled through her, building as she rocked her hips helplessly against him.
Roland groaned. She was so wet for him. So wild for him. Her body clenching around his fingers as he stroked her and inflamed her need, his own building until he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to be inside her.
She moaned a protest when he withdrew his fingers, then cried out when he guided his cock to her entrance and plunged into her hard from behind.
The pleasure on her face was almost his undoing.
His whole body trembled as he withdrew, then plunged again. She called his name, raised her arms, and reached back to grip his hair in her fists, drawing his head down.
He slid his hand back into that tempting triangle of curls, stroking her in time to his thrusts. The scent of her was maddening, heightened by her arousal, making him crave more and more of her.
Eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted on gasping breaths, Sarah stared at their reflection in the mirror, watched his hands touch and tease and stroke her.
Pumping his hips, he thrust deeper and faster, the tension rising. She was close. They both were, the pleasure building until it was almost unbearable.
“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered hoarsely, his glowing gaze meeting hers in the mirror.
Her body convulsed around him with the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced. Crying out, she clung to him desperately. On and on the pleasure went as Roland continued to thrust.
Just when she thought it would stop, Roland’s body stiffened with his own climax, his fingers danced upon her swollen flesh, and a second orgasm claimed her.
Darkness Dawns (immortal guardians) Page 24
