Her Dark Knight

by Sharon Cullen

  Her coworkers gathered around her, exclaiming over her accident and gently inquiring about her injuries. She answered as best she could, not telling them the belief she was pushed. But she couldn’t hang out in the outer office forever so she broke away and headed with leaden feet to the inner sanctuary where Giselle waited, arms folded, toe tapping.

  Lainie drew a deep breath. “Good morning, Giselle.”

  Giselle’s frosty glare and a raised eyebrow were her answer. “So glad you were able to join us.” She tilted her head toward Lainie’s desk. “Your work is waiting for you.” She left abruptly, leaving Lainie to stare after her.

  That was it? That was all the tongue lashing she was going to get? She stepped into her office and her heart sank. That and a week’s worth of work no one had touched.

  “Hey you.”

  Lainie lifted her head, the first time she’d looked away from the mountain of paperwork since she arrived six hours ago.

  Erica stood in the doorway with a big smile and an even bigger bag of what smelled like food. Lainie’s stomach rumbled.

  “I figured you’d be too busy to eat lunch so I brought some.”

  Lainie rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck, nearly groaning at how stiff she was. Making love all night with Christien then sitting behind her desk all day made her newly healed body unhappy.

  Erica plopped down in the chair opposite the desk, pulled out a container of soup, a plastic-wrapped spoon and a sandwich. Lainie nearly tackled her for it. Neither spoke until Lainie sat back with a contented sigh, her stomach full.

  “Thank you.”

  Erica waved her hand in the air. “I’m just glad you’re okay. And you’re back.”

  Lainie glared at the pile of paperwork. “I’m beginning to rethink that decision.”

  “Of course Giselle wouldn’t help you with your work. That would require her to be nice and I don’t think nice is in her vocabulary.”

  Lainie laughed. “Definitely not.” I’m doing this for Dad. I’m doing this for Dad. If it weren’t for him, she would have left this job long ago.

  “I never thanked you for calling Christien after the accident,” she said.

  Erica frowned. “I didn’t call Christien.”

  “After the accident? He said he got a call and came right away. I thought…” She’d assumed Erica called him, but by Erica’s expression she guessed not.

  “I didn’t call him. I didn’t even think about it. Should I have?”

  Lainie shook her head. “No. I guess someone else did.” Who though?

  Erica stood. “Well, now that you’re back, we need to do lunch again. Only this time don’t get hit by a car.”

  Lainie smiled absently. “I’ll try not to.”

  She sat at her desk a long while after Erica left. She was positive Christien said he’d come straight to the hospital after getting the call. No one else would have called him. No one but Erica knew they were seeing each other. She picked up her phone and dialed Christien’s number. He answered on the third ring, with a distracted, “Chevalier.”

  “Who told you I was hit by the car?”

  “Madelaine?”

  “I thought Erica called you, but she said it wasn’t her.” Her lunch sat heavily in her stomach right next to the big ball of dread. “The blond guy,” she suddenly said. “He’s one of your men isn’t he?”

  “Madelaine, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this over the phone.”

  He didn’t deny it.

  “I knew I’d seen him somewhere before. Why, Christien? Why did you have me followed?”

  “This isn’t the time—”

  “Never mind.” She hung up and stared blankly at the wall in front of her.

  Giselle appeared in the doorway. “Since you’re staring at the wall, I assume you’ve finished your work.”

  Lainie looked down at the stack of paperwork. Disappointment tugged at her—she’d trusted him and he hadn’t trusted her. The bubble of happiness she’d been living in since yesterday afternoon popped, leaving her feelings shredded.

  “No, not finished yet,” she said. “I was just taking a small break.”

  Giselle rolled her eyes. “Stop slacking. There’s more waiting when you’re finished with that.”

  Lainie swallowed her retort and pulled the stack toward her. It was better this way.

  She managed to get through most of the paperwork, firmly keeping her mind focused on the task at hand and ignoring the depressing thoughts circling. But by midnight her head was spinning and she was so tired she couldn’t see straight.

  Exhausted, she stood and stretched. The other offices were dark, everyone having gone home at least six hours ago. She’d put in a sixteen-hour workday. If that wasn’t good enough for Giselle nothing would be. The woman would have to live with it.

  On her way down to the lobby, Lainie gave a passing thought to Christien’s bodyguard who’d been waiting outside the building for the last sixteen hours. She probably should have told him she was working late.

  She exited the building and looked for Ronald, but instead found Christien leaning against the outside wall.

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Where’s Ronald?”

  “I sent him home two hours ago.”

  She shrugged and headed toward her apartment. Christien fell into step beside her.

  “The blond man you saw was one of my men. Hired to protect you.”

  When she didn’t say anything he sighed.

  “I told you in the hospital I was afraid someone would try to use you to get to me.”

  “You keep saying that but you won’t tell me who is trying to get to you.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it, his gaze sliding away. Lainie wanted to scream in frustration.

  “Trust goes two ways, Chevalier.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me I was being followed?”

  “And what would you have said?”

  “That I didn’t need a babysitter. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve to know.”

  “I apologize. You’re correct, of course. Sometimes I forget that you can take care of yourself.”

  The chagrined, boyishly forlorn look on his face cooled her anger, leaving her more exhausted than before. “You make it hard to stay mad at you.”

  “I try my best not to make you angry, but it’s a hard thing to do.” He tried to smile but she could see in his eyes how hurt and frightened he’d been. The loneliness had crept back in there too. Something she hadn’t seen in days. Despite his heavy-handed ways, deep down he was a lonely man at heart and that saddened her.

  Despite her exhaustion and residual anger, she smiled. “Tell Ronald I’m sorry I left him out here for so long.”

  “I take it Giselle wasn’t kind when you returned.”

  Lainie shrugged.

  “Why do you continue to work for her if she’s so cruel to you?”

  “Because I need the money.”

  He took her hand and pulled her to a stop. “I don’t like that you’re being abused. Let me help. I can set up a trust for your father—”

  “I pay my own way. But thank you,” she added, softening her tone. She wasn’t a charity case. Her father was her responsibility and she would take care of him like he took care of her for all those years. It was only right.

  “I have plenty of money. You wouldn’t have to work so hard—”

  “No, Christien. I appreciate the thought, really I do, but I won’t take your money.”

  She pulled her hand from his and continued on.

  “You’re going back to your apartment.”

  It wasn’t a question but she nodded anyway.

  Christien stopped walking and as much as she knew she should keep going, she stopped and turned back to him.

  “I thought you were coming back to me.”

  “Christien.” She understood his reasons for having her followed, but it still didn’t make his decision right. If she we
re in danger she had a right to know and to accept or refuse his offer of help. He didn’t give her the choice and that didn’t sit well with her. How many other times would he take her choice away from her? How many times would he autonomously decide what was best without consulting her?

  “I made a mistake,” he said. “I should have told you.”

  The warm breeze ruffled his dark hair. The red neon light from the business they stopped beside shined down on him, highlighting one side of his face, while plunging the other into shadows.

  “I had a right to know.”

  “You did.”

  Damn him for agreeing with her. It made it difficult to argue. “How many other choices have you taken from me?”

  He took both her hands and drew her closer. “None. And I will never make that mistake again. I promise, ma chérie. But you have to promise something as well.”

  The heat from his hands warmed her. She hadn’t realized how cold she’d become since their phone conversation.

  “Promise you won’t run away every time you are angry. If we are to make this relationship work, we need to communicate.”

  Shame washed over her. He was right, of course. She couldn’t run away every time he angered her. “I’m sorry. The next time I’ll make sure to talk before I walk.”

  One half of his face smiled, the other still lost in the shadows. “You’re so sure there will be a next time?”

  “Oh, I think there will be many next times. We’re bound to argue here and there.”

  He drew her closer until their bodies brushed and she pulled in a startled breath. “Think of all the making up we’ll do.” His sensuous lips curled into a knowing grin.

  “Just think.”

  “Do you forgive me, Madelaine?”

  “For wanting to keep me safe? For thinking of my best interest even though you didn’t discuss it with me? Of course. Do you forgive me for wanting to run?”

  He kissed her, a sweet, tender kiss that stole her breath. “As long as you never leave me again. You are my heart, ma chérie. And without my heart, I would die.”

  Oh, my.

  “Come home with me.”

  She nodded, tears clogging her throat and together they walked back to his home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Christien stared blindly at the report in front of him. Acting on a hunch, he had Madelaine’s family investigated more deeply than before, and the report confirmed his hunch was right.

  Now what? What should he do with the information?

  He shifted his gaze to the window. Two days ago, when Madelaine didn’t return home from work and he realized she wasn’t going to, he’d panicked.

  She’d been furious about his deception and rightfully so. He should have told her about the bodyguard, but in truth the thought of telling her never crossed his mind. He had her followed initially to find out more about her and, yes, to determine if she was in league with Lucheux. He’d kept the man on her to ensure her safety.

  ’Twas an error on his part that he wasn’t honest with her. It was why this information was so disturbing. His gut reaction was to keep it from her, to not upset the balance of her world. But Madelaine would consider it as making a decision without consulting her. She would want to know.

  Just as she wants to know who your enemy is? He winced at the damn voice inside his head. Another thing he was keeping from her. He rubbed his eyes with the pads of his thumbs, for the first time in a long while unsure what to do and where to go from here.

  Tell her about Lucheux? Not tell her? Now that she understood reincarnation, she might be willing to accept that Lucheux was also reincarnated. Except he wasn’t. He was immortal like Christien.

  Good God. The lies of omission kept piling up.

  He had to come clean. Tell her everything. Even about himself.

  He grabbed his phone and punched in a number. When the rough voice on the other end answered, Christien gave orders to dig deeper.

  He left the office and hurried through the crowded club, keeping a keen eye on the wait staff as they expertly maneuvered around the dance floor, balancing drinks and taking orders. Sabine waved to him and he lifted his chin in greeting, making a mental note to give her a raise. Since Madelaine’s accident, he’d spent more and more time with her, leaving Sabine to run the club. It had been his intention all along to step back and let Sabine handle everything. Maybe now would be a good time to put his plan into action.

  Stepping on the elevator, he glanced at his watch. Madelaine would have arrived home from work a quarter of an hour ago and would be changing out of her work clothes right now. He briefly thought of joining her in the bedroom and helping her out of those clothes, but he was well aware of how tired she was each night. Giselle was pushing Madelaine far too hard, and his tongue was half-bloody from all the words he’d bit back. He wanted her to quit her job and let him take care of her.

  If only she would let him, Christien would make Madelaine’s life much easier. It would be fairly simple to set up a trust for her father and she would have the comfort of knowing he was well taken care of and would never have to leave the home he was comfortable in. But every time he mentioned it, she closed herself off. He admired her pride but sometimes pride got in the way of good sense.

  When he stepped off the elevator she was coming down the hallway, her hair piled on top of her head, dressed in baggy sweatpants and an old T-shirt that said Peanut Butter Jelly Time. He smiled at the T-shirt, but wanted to frown at the dark circles under her eyes.

  She went up on her toes and kissed him. A sweet, tender kiss of hello he’d looked forward to since she moved in with him several days ago. For centuries he’d lived alone, but surprisingly didn’t find it hard to adjust to living with Madelaine. Each morning was a hardship to get out of bed and each evening he was impatient to get back upstairs.

  He put a hand on her waist while the other cupped the back of her head and drew her closer. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He walked her backward until she was against the wall and his hips pushed into her pelvis, searching for the sweet release only her body could provide.

  Her hands stroked up his back, pulling his shirt out. She wrapped a leg around his hip. His erection slipped easily into the V of her legs. The heat of her surrounded him.

  Her fingers skimmed his back, came around to the front, teasing his chest and his nipples.

  “You better watch it,” he said between kisses. “We may not get dinner if you keep that up.”

  “Who says I’m hungry for dinner?”

  He groaned and pulled her T-shirt over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples puckered into sharp points, begging him to take them into his mouth. He obliged, bending to suckle. Madelaine put a hand on either side of his head and arched her back. Her moans drove him on as his hips pumped.

  Quickly she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled him out. He gasped when her hand went around him, sliding up his length, then down to cup his bollocks. He surged forward, his eyes drifting closed, every nerve ending on fire.

  She slid down the wall and took him in her mouth. Her moist heat surrounded him. Her tongue swirled around his tip and he cried out. Bracing his hands against the wall, he hung his head to watch her lips surround his shaft. The scene below him was so erotic he knew he didn’t have much time left. He was racing toward climax, his bollocks tightening as the pressure built.

  He began to pump into her, grunting with each thrust.

  “I’m close, ma chérie,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You should stop.”

  She made a humming noise and cupped him in her other hand, squeezing lightly. He lost control and surged into her mouth one last time. His semen shot from him so forcefully it nearly buckled his knees and he yelled out, beyond thought, operating on nothing but instinct. His climax went on and on. They’d had sex almost every night. He should be drained, but Madelaine managed to squeeze more out of him until his muscles quivered and he sa
w black spots before his eyes.

  His arms gave out. Breathing hard he leaned against the wall. Beneath him Madelaine looked up and grinned that mischievous grin he loved so much. With a growl he scooped her up from the floor and carried her to his bed where he laid her down on the soft velvet comforter and spread her legs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving as good as I got.” He pulled her sweatpants down and discovered much to his delight she wore no underwear. He looked up at her. “Minx.”

  She laughed and tried to pull him on top of her but he shook his head. “This one is all for you, my love.”

  He parted her curls and sucked in his breath at the wetness dripping from her and the bright pink bud nestled within.

  “Christien?”

  “Relax, mon amour. And enjoy.” He positioned his lips over her and sucked her in. She gasped, her body rigid, her legs tensing and he sensed this had never been done to her before. He took his time, lapping at her, putting pressure on the one place that had her squirming and calling out his name.

  He lifted her legs and placed them over his shoulders to open her wider. She moaned, grabbing handfuls of the comforter, her head moving from side to side.

  Her hips pumped against his jaw, faster, then faster still. He worked her, his tongue gliding against the small bud until she began to gasp. She was near her climax. Her soft moans grew louder and his cock, rock hard again, pressed against the bed. He couldn’t believe he was this ready after his last climax, but he was and if he didn’t stop, he was going to come all over the comforter. His hips pumped in rhythm to hers. She let loose the comforter and grabbed his hair.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God,” she whimpered.

  Her legs tensed and her hips came off the bed so violently she smashed his nose into her pelvic bone. He put a finger inside her channel and she shattered around him, screaming. It was too much. He came with her, his own climax nearly as intense as the last one.

  When she went boneless beneath him, Christien withdrew his finger and laid his head on her stomach, listening to the rise and fall of her breaths as she ran her fingers through his hair.