Valley of Fire (Valley of the Moon Book 2)

by Bronwyn Archer

  “Hey, come here, you have got to see this.”

  I walked over to where he stood. His eyes glimmered in the dim light. I was so close I could see the stubble on his chin. Outside, lightning flashed against the cloud cover and wind rattled the window latches. Then the storm clouds slowly parted to reveal a luminous full moon and it was as if the sky itself had split in half. The moonlight illuminated the jagged clouds in a spectacular backlit display.

  It looked like something eternal.

  A feeling deep inside me woke up.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.

  “Yes, it is.” Alexander said in a low voice. He was looking at me. In the moonlight, his face was like carved marble.

  My skin prickled with anticipation. The moonlight disappeared and the wind picked up. A shadow fell across his face and earsplitting thunder cracked the sky, right over the Wentworth Mansion. I whipped my head around and hit the side of my head on the corner of the thick windowsill.

  I yelped and my hand flew to my temple.

  Alexander put his hands on my shoulders.

  “Let me see,” he said. I tilted my head towards his. His fingers lightly grazed my forehead. “It’s a little swollen here,” he said, touching just above my left temple. “How’s that lip doing? Should I check that too?” His voice sounded strange.

  He wanted to check my lip?

  His thumb moved across my upper lip. “Does it hurt when I do this?” His voice was low and ragged. I was totally unable to form words so I shook my head no. “What if I do this?” His thumb pressed into the center of my lower lip and gently pulled my lip down. I shook my head and closed my eyes. Then his thumb scraped against my bottom teeth. His hand on my jawbone pressed into my flesh. I was frozen in time, in space.

  Bright white lightning flashed right outside the window and lit up the room like it was electrocuted. Then, a second later, it was dark again.

  Alexander pulled his hand off me as though my skin burned. “That was close,” I said.

  “Very close,” he said. Neither one of us moved. Without warning, the lights in the room came back on.

  It was suddenly super awkward. I couldn’t just stand there like I was waiting for him to kiss me.

  “Welp, it’s pretty late, and I have a long drive tomorrow,” I said, attempting to sound casual. He didn’t need to know my heart was galloping and my palms were damp. I practically ran to the bathroom, where I held on to the sink and hyperventilated for a few minutes before I could brush my teeth.

  When I came out, the only light in the room was from a single candle. He’d made up a little bed on the couch with a pillow and a throw blanket, and he was sprawled on it looking at his phone.

  I stopped at the side of the huge four-poster bed on the other side of the suite. I took a deep breath and called out, “Goodnight, Alexander.” I turned my back on him, dropped my robe to the floor, and slipped under the downy covers. He blew out the candle and the room went dark.

  The only sound was the slow creaking of the chandelier and the faint stampede of rain on the roof. I pressed my face into the pillow to blot the silent tears rolling down my cheeks. I wanted to wall off my impossible, useless feelings, to kill them and bury them deep in the ground. I had other things to worry about: my dad, Ramona, paying off Victor, packing for college, life as an heiress.

  It was time to move on from this stupid, pointless crush.

  My new life was about to start and it could not, would not include him.

  The ancient ache for my mother crept over me. It was a different kind of pain, but because it was familiar, it gave me a weird sense of comfort. The longing for her was all I had left of her. I hugged the pillow to my chest and cried without making a sound until sleep descended on me like a suffocating cloud.

  #

  I’m running as fast as I can but it’s gaining on me. Up ahead, the cliffs end but I can’t slow down and I don’t even try and then I’m falling like a stone into the churning sea below. I scream and scream as I sink below the waves, but nothing comes out of my mouth. And then my mother’s voice is calling to me from the depths below. “Lana, Lana, my sweet girl, it’s all right. Momma’s here, Momma’s got you.” I haven’t heard her voice in years. It is so vivid and real I cry out for her. I look for her in the water, whirling around to find her, but there’s nothing. I scream her name until my mouth fills with water.

  #

  I bolted upright, gasping for air.

  A voice came out of the darkness inches away from me.

  “Hey.”

  My hand clutched my chest. “You scared me!”

  My eyes adjusted. The rain had stopped and squares of moonlight dappled the floor.

  Alexander sat cross-legged on the corner of the bed, watching me. “You were having a nightmare. I came to check on you, sorry.” His hair was tousled, sticking up everywhere, his t-shirt askew on his frame. His eyes were soft and sleepy, but his gaze, as usual, was penetrating.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “What was it about?” His voice was so tender.

  “My mother. I haven’t had it in a long time. Sorry if I woke you.” I bent my head into the crumpled sheet and wept.

  “Oh, Lana. Don’t cry.” He slowly crawled towards me and tilted my head up from my hands. He sat up on his knees and with a corner of the sheet carefully blotted the tears on my cheeks. The moonlight bathing the bed made him look like an alabaster god. “Come here.”

  I let myself cry on his shoulder until my tears soaked his t-shirt. He stroked my hair and then his hand grazed the nape of my neck. My sadness dried up like damp leaves falling on a bonfire and was replaced by intense physical attraction. I was suddenly hyperaware of his muscular chest, his smooth skin. He shifted and the light stubble on his chin scraped my forehead.

  I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation of his body against mine. My arms moved higher until my hands were resting at the base of his neck. All my inhibitions wavered. But it wasn’t just physical anymore—it was him. And I didn’t have the energy to fight my impulses anymore.

  My hands went rogue first. My fingers curled into the soft hair at the back of his damp neck. My lips grazed his neck just above the collar of his shirt.

  His body tensed up. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  “Nothing.”

  I had the unnerving sensation he was reading my thoughts. And then incredibly and to my utter disbelief his fingers combed my hair away from my face.

  “Lana?” His voice was low, almost menacing, as he said my name.

  “Yeah?” His eyes burned into mine. I stared back at him defiantly. I wouldn’t look away this time. His full lips parted and I could feel his warm, sweet breath on me. My head started to spin. His brow was furrowed and he was breathing fast.

  “Tell me what you want,” he demanded. He freed one hand from my hair and stroked my cheek with the back of his good hand. He needs your permission. He wants your permission. He doesn’t want to be like Caleb.

  I decided to show him what I wanted. It was easier than trying to form sentences. I slid my hand to his neck and pulled his face to mine. Our lips touched softly, and then harder, and then harder.

  My brain struggled to cope with the insanely unreal fact that I was making out with Alexander Ambrose. Every nerve in my body wallowed in the feeling of his mouth on mine.

  His kisses were like snowflakes—each time his mouth moved it was to kiss me in a new way. His arms found their way around my waist and he held me in place. Then he eased me back onto the bed and stretched out next to me. Our arms and legs became intertwined, creating their own magnetic field as our bodies pressed together.

  He ripped the bandage off his right hand and pushed his fingers into my hair, holding my face where he wanted it. He stroked the underside of my arm down to my side. Powerful chills ran through me. He took a fistful of silky fabric near my hip and started rubbing little circles with it onto my skin.

  My nightgown slid dangerously t
owards my waist.

  With his other hand, he pushed one of my arms over my head, and then the other. He held them there with one hand while he kissed me. When I tried to pull my hands free, his grip tightened. He kissed along the neckline of my nightie. His other hand with the fistful of silk fabric moved in little circles at my waist, pushing into me. It was the most intense physical experience of my life. His kisses burned away my memories of Caleb Weaver and cauterized all my wounds.

  Then it felt like something enormous was exploding out of my heart, out of my chest, and filling me with an indescribably sweet pain.

  He released my hands so he could move his other hand behind my back. Suddenly we were fully entwined—my arms thrown around him, my hands pressing into the smooth skin on his back where his t-shirt had ridden up, his arms around me, one hand pushing me into him, and the other wrapped in silk kneading little circles into me.

  “Definitely not what I expected,” he said. His voice was soft and deep and made me quiver to my core. What would happen after didn’t matter. Nothing would matter. The warning sirens blasting in my brain faded away to silence as his hands tugged at the delicate straps of my gown. He worked them down to the middle of my upper arms but couldn’t go down any further because he was holding my hands above my head. He released my hands and I took his hand and pulled it to my breast.

  The corners of his mouth turned up as he kissed me.

  “Okay,” he whispered between kisses. He kept his mouth on mine and caressed me through the silk. He slid the top of my nightgown down to my waist. My eyes flew open. He leaned on one elbow, just looking at me. He seemed almost reverent.

  “What is it?” I asked. I didn’t feel shy, even though I was completely exposed to him. He stayed quiet. The moon had risen and moonlight filled the room. My skin looked slightly unreal in the blue light. The bruise on my ribs was barely visible.

  “You. Are. Spectacular.”

  I was levitating. Or was I dreaming?

  His fingers traced a line from the base of my neck to my belly button. “I thought about kissing you the day I met you,” he said. My body trembled with the awesomeness of that fact.

  “Why didn’t you?” I whispered.

  His jaw clenched. “Lots of reasons. None of which I can recall at the moment.”

  He slid the flat of his palm between my breasts to my neck. He bent his head to mine and kissed me again, and then his face moved down to my chest. He cupped my breast in his good hand and rubbed his thumb over my nipple. His teeth grazed my nipple, nipping it, then sucking it, then softly nipping it again until I thought I’d go crazy.

  He started doing the same to my other breast, over and over, and I started losing control. Then it was as though a wave was lifting me. My hands clutched his back as a grenade went off deep inside my body.

  I was momentarily paralyzed by the shockwave that wracked my body. Alexander kissed me hard on the mouth and smoothed my hair back.

  “You okay?” he asked. Okay? I would never be okay again.

  “Yeah,” I lied. “Are you?”

  He laughed at that. “I could use a few hundred cold showers, but I’ll live.” He kissed me again, soft and deep, and I felt like I was drowning in him. “Lana, Lana, Lana. So very responsive. That’s enough fun for one night.” He tugged my nightgown up and helped me get my arms into the straps. I stretched out on the bed in a drugged state of relaxation.

  I had so much I wanted to say to him, but my eyes were not obeying my command to stay open. His body curled up alongside mine and he pulled the sheet over us. His arm found its way around my waist. The last thing I noticed was the room growing dark again as clouds swept across it.

  By the time I closed my eyes, there wasn’t a trace of moonlight left.

  Chapter 13

  Lacus Hiemalis ~ Lake of Winter

  I woke up with a sharp headache in a room bright with morning light. I pulled the covers over my head and went through the usual confused few seconds of retracing my steps.

  Something had happened with Alexander.

  OH MY GOD.

  And I had to sit next to him for the next ten hours. How would I look him in the face? You and your “responsiveness.” My face felt hot just thinking about it.

  The gorgeous suite was as disheveled as I was. The bed was a jumble of sheets and blankets. Clothes, shoes, robes were strewn across over the wood floors. Just act normal. He won’t say anything about it and you can pretend like it never happened. He won’t even bring it up.

  I was about to spring out of bed when the bathroom door opened. Alexander walked out dripping wet, his hair slicked back. He clutched a tiny white towel around his waist. He saw me and gave me a wicked smile.

  I yelped, dived back down, and pulled the covers over my head. My ears burned from embarrassment.

  “Well, well, well!” he said gleefully. I whimpered under the sheets, dying. I peeked out from under the duvet. He was standing right next to the bed in the scandalously small towel.

  “There was only one bath towel left and I wanted you to have it. So feast your eyes.”

  I choked back a laugh and somehow wrenched my gaze away from his body up to his face. He was freshly shaved and beautiful.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  My cheeks were on fire. I tried to find the words to say something, but what were words?

  “Even though you sort of ruined my penance, it was worth it. What do you think?” He pulled the duvet down so he could see my face. His dimples tweaked his cheeks as he gave me a knowing smile.

  I pulled it back over my head and slunk down as far as I could.

  He laughed and straddled me. In his little towel.

  “Hey!” I said, and I tried bucking him off me.

  He pinned my arms under his weight. I was trapped.

  “Feeling shy, Lana? You weren’t too shy last night.”

  I squirmed under him. “Get off me!”

  My furious attraction to him was now magnified a thousand times after our epic make-out session.

  “First you have to answer one question,” he said.

  “Fine!”

  “Are all innocent little eighteen-year-olds as hot as you in bed? Because if the answer is yes, I’ve been barking up the wrong tree for a long time and I’m pissed.”

  He scooted off the bed, clutching his towel around his hips. The air vibrated with possibility.

  “Close your eyes now, Lana dear.”

  I pulled the covers over my head and squeezed my eyes shut. He likes you. You are not just some random hookup. Stop being so insecure.

  A minute later he said, “Okay, open.” When I peeked again, he was fully dressed in a fresh t-shirt and shorts. “There’s coffee and donuts on the table.” He put his hands on his hips and smirked. “You gonna get up? Or do I have to go in there and get you?”

  I yawned and stretched. “I can’t believe today is our last day of driving.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “I sort of wish we could stay in this room all day.” Sliding out of the bed as gracefully as I could, I stood up and tugged the hem of my nightgown down. I smiled at him shyly.

  A shadow flitted across his face. He pressed his lips together and knelt down to zip his bag.

  “Get dressed, Lana.” Flirtatious Alexander was gone. I scowled at him behind his back and waited for him to laugh, joke with me, but he just picked up his bag and walked past me to the front door without even looking at me. What did you think he’d do? Propose marriage?

  I refused to let his strange mood drain my euphoria. I gathered my things and hurried into the bathroom.

  No matter what else happened between us, I was going to savor my triumph.

  #

  It’s an eleven-hour drive from Charleston to New York and we had gotten on the road late. Wendell had managed to find us a few gallons of gas, luckily. We didn’t talk much once I steered the Vanquish onto the highway. Our relationship had changed. Everything had changed. The Earth was orbiting the sun in a new direct
ion. Nothing would ever be the same.

  I died inside every time I looked at him. He casually let me know he was taking a nap, leaned back, and closed his eyes. I struggled to focus on driving while my brain replayed every glorious moment of the night before. How could I watch the road when my lips were still swollen from kissing and my skin felt blistered where his hands had touched me? Where his mouth had touched me?

  My euphoria started to burn away under the glare of morning-after reflection. In a few days, I’d go home, see my dad, go to college, and probably never see him again. He’d go back to work, settle down with some woman twice my age. Our time together had run out. We would never be alone again the way we were on the road. Was that my first and last chance to kiss Alexander Ambrose?

  He was fast asleep with his sunglasses on and his lips slightly parted. He had a slight bruise on his neck. Had I done that? I took a deep breath and fixed my eyes back on the road. There was only one choice left for me: wait for him to break my heart, or break it myself. If he brought it up, I’d tell him it was a huge mistake.

  It was late afternoon when his phone buzzed. It was for him—Gretchen again. His stepsister, I reminded myself. Not his sister.

  He lifted his head. He muted the call and set the phone back down. He pulled off his sunglasses, yawned, and looked at me.

  “That was quite a nap,” I said.

  “Didn’t get much sleep last night.” He winked at me and my cheeks burned. I squirmed in my seat and the leather squeaked. Listen, Alexander, we need to talk. Last night was a mistake. But before I could utter my carefully composed lines, Alexander said, “Maybe we should talk.” He rubbed his hands through his hair, then crossed his arms.

  “Okay.”

  I could see him watching me from the corner of my eye. He reached over and grazed the back of my neck with his fingers, sending chills down my arms.

  “You’re a beautiful girl, Lana.” He withdrew his hand. He turned and looked out his window. The silence in the car got deafening. My heart thudded against my chest. “And you’re a good girl. You’re probably thinking last night was a mistake. And you’d be right. I’m sorry.” I kept my hands on the wheel and focused on not driving off the road. I refused to look at him. Every muscle in my body tensed to spring. “Yeah,” I said, a little too forcefully. “It’s okay.”