by Anne Hope
She shot another glance at the dying flames overhead, then magically melded with the shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alone. In this house. With Lia. Jace had half a mind to ignore his mother’s advice and sleep out in the woods again. The second he stepped foot inside, Lia’s essence called to him like a goddamn drug. Her scent, her touch, was everywhere. The beast within him instantly leapt to attention. The need to seek her out ignited in his blood, more scalding than the setting sun.
Fighting it, he made his way to the study instead, where the grand piano waited for his fingers to beat it to life. He wasn’t sure where the melodies came from. They simply bled from his fingers, soothing adagios and violent allegros, packed with emotions he couldn’t remember feeling. All he knew was that playing was as natural to him as breathing. Of course, he should’ve anticipated that the moment his fingers struck the keys, Lia would be drawn by the music. Maybe that was what he’d intended all along.
She slid into the study, graceful and silent. Despite the fact that Regan had brought her some of her own clothes, she still wore the old silk nightgown he’d found in the attic. It suited her. The delicate fabric shimmered almost as much as she did. It hugged her curves in a way that made heated images sprout in his mind. He focused his thoughts on the piano and fought to ignore the familiar tingle in his abdomen.
Hesitant to approach him, she pressed her back to the wall and watched him, her heart beating to the tempo of the music. He should’ve stopped playing, should’ve stalked past her and locked himself in his room. But he didn’t. As if of their own volition, his fingers kept striking the keys. The music soared, a mournful cadenza that spoke of everything he couldn’t.
When he finally stopped and turned to gaze at her, her cheeks were damp with tears. “When you play,” she said, “I can actually hear the words in my head.”
“I don’t remember words, just notes. If there were lyrics, the part of me that wrote them is long gone.”
“No, it isn’t.” It lives in me. He heard the thought as clearly as if she’d spoken it.
She advanced cautiously, as though afraid he’d take off at a run if she got too close. Her gaze locked with his, and in the heartbeats that followed the lyrics spun to life inside him until he heard the words, too. A longing so fierce seized him, he nearly groaned.
She stopped an arm’s length away, slowly extended her hand.
“Don’t.” His voice held enough of a threat to make her curl her fingers into a fist, which she let drop to her side.
Disappointment darkened her gaze. “How long are you going to fight it? Fight me?”
“As long as it takes.” He sprang to his feet and took a step away from her.
“Have I ever told you you’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met?” An odd blend of exasperation and affection laced her tone.
“You don’t have to. I can read your mind, remember?”
“And I can read yours.”
“You’re not touching me.”
“I don’t have to. Not anymore.” She swallowed up the distance between them, one small inch at a time. “Something changed when we kissed. I’m more in tune with your thoughts than ever.”
Great. Whatever privacy he’d had was gone. How would he shut her out now?
She raised her arm again, and this time he wasn’t quick enough. Or maybe he just didn’t bother pulling away. Her fingers came to rest on his cheek, a paralyzing caress. “You can’t hide from me,” she whispered. “So don’t bother trying.”
Her palm glided across his skin like cool silk. Being this close to her, feeling her touch him was like coming home. Everything he’d been, everything he’d become, fused together until he could almost make sense of his screwed-up existence. For a thin slice of time, he knew who he was. But more importantly, he knew who he wanted to be. His heart, his blood, even his errant soul, flared with a heat that traveled through him and made his whole body ache.
“You’re playing with fire,” he growled. Every instinct he possessed urged him to claim her, consume her, brand her as his. The fact that he hadn’t already pinned her to the ground and devoured her mouth was a testament to his strength of will.
“What if I want to feel the heat?” Her tone was soft and husky, as smooth as aged scotch. Her lips hovered beneath his, soft and supple, promising to give him everything he craved, everything he lacked.
He wanted to take the sweet fulfillment she so selflessly offered. Jesus, how he wanted to. But something held him back. He would’ve liked to believe it was solely the possibility of hurting her that kept him from making love to her, but he knew better. His reluctance ran deeper. The truth was, he didn’t think he deserved her.
Swallowing a curse, he pried her fingers from his face and trapped them in his grip, where they could no longer assault him.
Understanding slackened her lips. A soft glint came into her eyes. “When I was a girl,” she said, “my mother sometimes took Cassie and me to the beach. She worked a lot and we didn’t get to spend much time with her, so these outings were pretty special.
“But I remember one day above all others. Cassie and I were racing across the beach, arguing over who was going to gather the most seashells like we always did, when I slipped and fell. I searched the ground to see what I’d slipped on and found this rugged, colorful patch of glass embedded in the sand. It was amazing. I’d never seen anything like it.
“When I asked my mother about it, she explained that lightning must have struck the ground. Till then, lightning had always frightened me. It was loud and violent and mysterious. I didn’t really understand it, so I feared it. But that day I saw another side of it.” She wiggled her fingers, turned her palms upward to mate with his. Her heat traveled up his arm, searing his flesh. “I saw beauty.”
“Lightning also maims and kills,” was his gruff response.
She shook her head. “No one is all good and all bad.” Her earnest gaze cut off the air supply to his lungs, and it took every last vestige of his willpower to resist the sweet lure of her mouth. “Most of us fall somewhere between the two extremes. And you’re no exception. You may think this thing that’s happened to you turned you into something evil, but you’re wrong. It just changed you, made you better.”
Those words, riding on the heels of what Regan had said to him, caused every barrier he’d erected between them to collapse in a heap of rubble. He wasn’t sure if she meant what she’d said or if she’d read his thoughts and knew exactly what he needed to hear. And to be honest, he didn’t give a damn. All he cared about was kissing her, tasting her again, feeling that rush of pure heat slash through him.
Bracketing her face with his palms, he drew her to him. With deliberate slowness, even though the slumbering monster inside him screamed for savage possession, he brushed her lips with his. “So soft, so warm,” he whispered against her mouth. “So…vulnerable.” He drank deeper, and the bolt struck again, that current of unadulterated energy that flared between them whenever they touched. “So darn brave.”
She hooked her arms around his neck, pulled him closer as her lips parted to receive him. Feral need saturated his bloodstream and made his temples throb. The black hole in his chest expanded until he couldn’t breathe. He crushed her to him, felt each enticing curve on her body mold to the hard planes of his. Fire raged through him, brushed the undersides of his flesh, and left him hungry and wanting. He couldn’t tell which was stronger, his desire to possess her body or his desire to claim her soul. The air around them hummed with the same mystical force that had permeated the atmosphere the last time they’d kissed. He only wished he knew if it were a sign of approval or a silent warning.
Determined to stay in control, he broke the kiss, peeled his body from hers. “Let’s take things slow,” he rasped. “I need to be able to stop if things get out of hand.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she slipped her thumbs beneath the straps of her nightgown and slid it off her shoulders. The garment pool
ed at her feet in glistening folds. Jace’s next breath snagged in his throat. She wore nothing beneath it. Only shimmering light enfolded her.
The room darkened as dusk swept in, but Lia kept glowing. She lit up the whole room like a beacon. And that beacon drew him to her, away from the darkness, into the sheltering warmth of her light.
Reverently, he reached out and touched her. He stroked the curve of her shoulder, traced the heart-shaped birthmark that was just a shade lighter than her skin. “You have a heart on your shoulder.”
Lia chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made him want to grunt in response. “My mother always said it means I’m destined to find great love someday.”
“How’s that working out for you?” He caressed the gentle arc of her throat, felt her pulse beat beneath his fingertips.
Her gaze grew dark and smoky. “Tell you later.”
He grew bolder, pulled her closer, palmed her breast. His body ignited at the feel of her creamy skin, flared out of control. “You’re so beautiful.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand as he continued stroking her. “I can barely remember the last time a man touched me,” she confessed. “But I know it didn’t feel anything like this. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget how this feels.”
A growl tore from his throat, and he stroked her harder. Her nipple tightened beneath the pad of his thumb. The feel of that tight nub pressing into his flesh nearly undid him. A shudder ran through her, in perfect rhythm with the one that rocked his body. He let his fingers venture lower, brought his hands to rest on the gentle flare of her hips. Her skin was a blend of satin and velvet, soft and smooth and as seductive as sin. “I wish you knew what this is like for me. Caressing you, feeling your heat flow through me.”
“I do,” she sighed. “I can feel everything you do.”
Desire lanced through him. Then their mouths mated in a furious dance that only fueled the hunger. He couldn’t drink long enough, plunge deep enough. Her need sang to his until he didn’t know where one ended and the other began. His body grew hard, hot and painful.
“Jace.” His name was a plea on her lips, a pained whimper. “I need— God, I don’t even know what I need.” Completion. The thought invaded his muddled brain. Wholeness.
Urgency tripping through his veins, he swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs to her bedroom, where he spread her on the white wrought-iron bed and let his gaze roam over her flushed body. A quiet ache unfurled in his chest and made his stomach clamp.
Suddenly the need to feel her naked flesh against his grew so fierce, it crippled him. He ripped the shirt from his body, fumbled with his belt.
Lia moaned and writhed on the bed. When he finally pried his belt loose, she impatiently undid the button fly on his jeans, grabbed him by the wrists and urged him to blanket her body with his. A crazy rush speared through them, further stoking the fire.
“I’m not sure how much of this we can take.” He brought his mouth to her throat, let his lips journey downward until they closed over her breast.
She cried out, arched into him. “I don’t care if I burst into flames. Don’t stop.”
He wasn’t sure he could. The insistent energy that had taken them over was now running the show. And it was determined to see them finish what they’d started.
His mouth continued its descent, traveled down the valley between her breasts, feathered over her navel. When it finally found her feminine center, she gasped and clenched a fistful of his hair. If her grip hurt, he didn’t notice. He was too lost, drowning in her warmth and sweetness. Using only his mouth and his fingers, he brought her over the edge. The violent orgasm that shook her body echoed through him, made him burn for release and something else. Something he couldn’t name but that gnawed a hole in his gut. Something that threatened to unleash the creature he labored to subdue.
Trying to douse the fire in his blood, he rolled off her and stretched out on his back, panting. They’d tested the boundaries enough. The time had come to put an end to the insanity.
Her familiar scent wafted toward him. Jasmine and lavender. It surrounded him, enticed and beckoned him. A string of colorful curses zipped through his brain. He was willing to bet Lia heard each and every one.
She raised herself on her elbows, directed a shocked, dubious glance his way. “You can’t be serious.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Right about now he couldn’t trust himself to look at her. “We proved your theory. I can’t kill you by kissing you. I even made you come. I figure that should keep you happy for a while.” If he acted like a total ass, she might back off. Fortunately, he had years of experience being a jerk.
The sheets rustled as Lia turned on her side. “You’re not fooling me, you know. What are you afraid of?”
A strained laugh rumbled in his throat. “Can’t you read my mind?”
“Yes, I can. But I still want you to tell me.”
He forced his lids open to find her brilliant gaze riveted on his face. Her head was perched on her upturned palm, ripples of wild blond hair falling in soft layers to drape her folded arm as she waited for him to answer.
Lying to someone who could hear your thoughts was pointless, so he settled on the truth. “Us. This energy between us. It’s all one big question mark. What’ll happen if we take it all the way? What if we put something in motion we can’t stop? Or worse—” What if I end up losing you?
Compassion made her face crumple. She brought her other hand to rest upon his ribcage, right over his heart. “You won’t. I’m not going anywhere. I couldn’t walk away from you even if I wanted to. This connection we share, it’s beyond my control.”
The way she kept reading his thoughts was starting to seriously piss him off. A man needed his space, that small corner in his psyche where he could stash all those thoughts and feelings he refused to voice.
“This is confusing and frustrating and scary for me, too,” she confessed. “I’m used to being in control. My life has always gone according to plan. Until now.”
Her fingers stroked the springy whorls of hair on his chest. Each innocent flick sent white sparks shooting through his veins. Desire lumped in his throat and stole the moisture from his mouth. Animal instinct impelled him to pounce, seize and dominate. Only the tenuous threads of his restraint kept him from succumbing to it. “Why can’t you stop touching me?”
“Because when I touch you, I don’t feel alone anymore.”
That did it. Snapped the thread. Crushed every last ounce of his willpower. With a guttural groan, he lunged and pinned her beneath him. Every part of his skin vibrated and sizzled. His mouth ravaged hers, drawing power from it, filling the emptiness. His hands roamed, wild and free, clutching and kneading, exploring and reveling. Her fingers slid beneath the waistband of his pants, and with a brisk yank, she pushed everything he wore down to his thighs. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist in a silent invitation he was powerless to resist.
Their joining was hot and feral, tender and desperate. The insatiable thirst inside him spiraled out of control as he drove into her, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. Her halo pulsed, then expanded to surround him, an electric bubble of pure heat.
He felt it then. Wholeness. Completion. Two beings in perfect tune with each other. The seamless fusion of both body and soul. He stiffened and shuddered as rapture rippled through him. Swept away by the current of his pleasure, Lia rode the wave alongside him. Jace became engulfed in a sea of sensation, unable to distinguish her bliss from his own. All he knew was that it was intoxicating, addictive.
But most perplexing of all was the shocking peace that rolled over him once the flames retreated and the tide finally settled. The kind of peace that came over a guy when he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Abbie’s Diner came alive at dawn. From across the street, Kyros watched as a small slip of a woman unlocked the door, then flipped the sign to Open.
He and his team
had already paid a visit to the car rental place and to the Devil’s Lake Inn, but the results had been disappointing. Nobody at the last two destinations had a clue where Cutler and Benson had gone, and Kyros knew they spoke the truth because he’d invaded their thoughts and searched their minds for answers.
If he didn’t get some kind of lead here, the trail would grow cold, and he couldn’t accept that. “Stay here,” he ordered his crew. “The less conspicuous we are, the better.”
Without waiting for their consent, knowing they would follow his command unquestioningly, he crossed the street to the diner and pushed the door open. A bell chimed, announcing his presence.
The woman jumped and spun around to face him. A gasp escaped her lips upon seeing him. “Sorry.” She gave him a feeble smile. “I wasn’t expecting anyone so soon. People usually don’t start coming in till six-thirty.”
Kyros grinned. He was good at faking amusement, even compassion when necessary. “I apologize for frightening you, but I’m just dying for a cup of coffee.”
The waitress laughed. It was deep and throaty and a touch flirtatious. “Know what you mean. I’ll get a pot brewing right away.”
He followed her to the kitchen, where the air reeked of stale coffee mixed with some kind of industrial pine cleaner.
She stopped midstep, skewering him with a nervous glance. “You’re not supposed to be back here.” All levity vanished from her face. “Grab a table and I’ll be right with you.”
Kyros didn’t retreat. With long, steady steps he invaded her personal space. Fear rippled from her skin, a flickering current of pure energy. Her soul called to him. It would have been so easy to swoop down and swallow it. He craved the feel of that energy coursing through his veins, empowering him. But he didn’t succumb to temptation. Self-discipline was the only thing that separated the Kleptopsychs from the Rogues, and Kyros possessed more than most.
