A Heart's Breath

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A Heart's Breath Page 14

by Ellen March

She shook her head and said quietly, “No, I just want him gone.”

  He caught Slade by the collar and dragged him to the door. Throwing him through it, he watched with satisfaction as he stumbled and fell. “If I see you again, take my word I won’t stop.” His words, softly spoken, were more menacing than if he’d yelled them out.

  Slade swiped at his battered face and nodded. Crawling to his feet, he staggered from the entrance.

  Micah returned to the kitchen and looked across at Savannah. She was clutching the bodice of her dress, sniffling, her head bent. He grasped a cloth, dampened it, and went to her. Hunching down in front, he tilted her head up and silently dabbed at her cheek and nose. His face was hard, and his eyes glittered with a cold rage.

  Savannah could feel the raw anger emanating from him. It soldered over her. The Micah she’d seen had scared her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

  “Why won’t you listen to me? I told you to stay in the club.” His voice was harsh with a seething fury.

  “Cato rang, and I couldn’t hear him. I only went into the lobby.” She trembled, and her dark, luminous eyes shimmered with tears. “Then I was hungry and ….” Her voice broke and she sucked in huge, teary sobs.

  “Come here, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  Savannah threw her arms around his neck, desperate for the security he gave her. Sobs racked her as she realized what could have happened. “I thought making love was beautiful, but he made it seem filthy.” She continued to hold onto him.

  “Hush, baby, I’ll make it beautiful for you again.” His hand stroked through her hair.

  “Now, Micah?” She was desperate for him to give her back her treasured memories. She nuzzled his throat, her arms gripped tight around his neck.

  “No.” He rose, taking her with him, his arms banded beneath her. “First I wash the touch of his hands from you.”

  His body was still taut with fury that Slade had dared to defile her. To touch what was his.

  Once in the bathroom, he pulled her ripped dress off and threw it in the bin, along with her underwear. He wanted no reminder of another man’s hands on her.

  Slowly and methodically, he cleansed her body but didn’t touch her. He was obsessed with washing the stain of Slade’s touch from her skin.

  Finally he was satisfied. All the while Savannah had stood silently before him, her great big eyes watching his every move.

  Once they were in his room, he laid her on the bed and rang Charu, telling her he wouldn’t be back down.

  “Is that why you’re almost part-time? Sleeping with the boss? Maybe I should call Rio and put in a complaint,” she bitched, fully aware she couldn’t override Savannah’s instructions.

  “Shut the hell up.” He’d dropped the receiver.

  Savannah was lying in bed, silently watching him. His anger was evident in each jerky stride. And she was worried.

  He’d not had an erection in the shower; instead his touch had been almost clinical.

  Did he blame her? Did it repulse him to see Slade on top of her?

  She was filled with confusion. She knew she loved him, beyond anything. The thought of him turning away from her caused her to swallow down a panic. The fright continued to eat into her.

  All the while, she continued to watch him, his naked body storming through the bedroom.

  “You hungry?” he asked, shrugging on his jeans.

  That was not what she’d expected to hear. She knew what she was hungry for. But nodded.

  “I’ll make us some food.” He turned and called over his head. “And you stay put, you got it?”

  She nodded silently.

  “Anna, answer me.” He remained with his back to her, his hand gripping the handle.

  “Yes,” she muttered, her voice hoarse. She was nervous. This was not like her Micah.

  Ten minutes later he was back, carrying a plate full of sandwiches and packets of crisps.

  She glanced up at him uncertainly. Her nose hurt, her lips felt bruised, and her heart was being ripped to shreds.

  He placed the tray on the bed. “Eat,” he ordered, watching her.

  She noticed he didn’t touch a morsel. Her own stomach rebelled and growled, so she forced down the food. With each nibble she glanced up. He was studying her. His gaze was dark and brooding. Savannah shivered, wondering what was going through his head.

  Sated, she pushed the tray away. She ached all over, but that mattered less than her mental state. She’d eaten in silence beneath his perusal. And she didn’t like it—not one bit. Each swallow had been a struggle.

  “Had enough?” His voice was sharp, and not waiting for a reply, he took the tray away.

  She peered at him from beneath her fringe of lashes, watched how he placed it on the bedside table before peeling his jeans off. The light remained on, and she waited for him to sneak in beside her. Savannah felt the scramble of nerves jerk across her stomach.

  Was he going to remain cold?

  She was still confused and so very scared that he was turning his back on her. The care he afforded her was almost paternal. And that was not the way she thought of him.

  She lowered her eyes, lay on her back, and prayed.

  The bed rocked as he got in, and she waited for his arm to draw her close. She rolled over and lay with her back to him. The silence spun out, and a cold wall bricked over her heart. She was scarcely breathing, snatching in small gasps. She couldn’t take this torture—lying next to him, knowing he didn’t want her.

  Savannah threw the sheet back.

  Her tears, as usual, could not be contained. They drove down her cheeks in an avalanche of sadness.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Micah hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her back so that she slammed into him.

  “To my own bedroom.” She struggled against him. “You don’t want me. You’re disgusted with what happened.”

  Micah spun her around. Forcing her onto her back, he towered over her. “Don’t ever think that, honey. I want you, all right, don’t ever doubt it.”

  She glanced up at him, her chocolate eyes swamped in a flood of tears. “So why are you ignoring me?”

  Micah dropped a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not, baby. I’m trying to get my head around that twat.” He sucked in a ragged sigh. “When I saw … damn, I want nothing more than to love you, show you what it means.”

  “Then why haven’t you spoken to me?”

  “I’m not ignoring you, honey, or at least don’t mean to. My mind is still on Slade, as is my anger. I want to kill him.” He stroked her hair, and his tongue licked a slow trail over her face and sucked across her skin. “But I don’t blame you, never that.” Slowly he teased over her lips.

  “Then why won’t you love me, Micah?” she asked. Her voice hesitant, she looked up into his face, needing to reassure herself.

  His cerulean eyes crested over her, and his hand touched her face, cupping it. He whispered, “Anytime, baby. I’ll love you whenever you want.” Slowly his lips dropped to hers.

  They grazed over her, and in a sexy, leisurely slide, he tasted, sucked, and took. His arm curled around her body, drawing her close—so close there wasn’t a breath between them—because Micah intended to love her, bring back the beauty she was missing.

  He’d give her everything she wanted, because he’d already given her his heart. Without a doubt he knew he loved her.

  Telling her was just a matter of timing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Savannah roped her arms around his neck and plants kisses along his throat, welcoming him to her. “Micah?” she muttered.

  “I’m going to love you, baby.” His voice hoarse, he peppered her with kisses. “Over and over, I’m going to drive into you until you scream with pleasure.”

  “Really?” she teased, nipping at his bottom lip.

  “Hmmm, of course, and then I’m going to …” he whispered in her ear.


  “Bloody hell, promise? Can you actually do that?” She giggled as the dark cloud moved and a light sprang forward. Micah still wanted her, and he was replacing the bad memories with beautiful ones.

  He looked down at her and gave a wicked wink. “Anna, I’m going to make long, lazy love to you. Slow and easy until you’re screaming for release.”

  “Don’t think I’ve got a problem with that.” He nipped down on her nipple, and she squealed. “Ouch, that hurt.”

  With his cheeky smile, he replied, “It was intended to. Did you like?”

  Savannah held his head against her chest. “Actually, I’m not sure. Can you do it again?”

  “With pleasure, baby,” he promised. Micah dropped his mouth over her raised nipple, sucking hard until it puckered and pebbled.

  Savannah leaned into him. “Oh Christ, Micah, that’s so ….” She winced and arched into his mouth. Her hands gripped his head, holding it down. And her eyes shot open when his hand splayed over her fanny. His fingers trailed over her pussy, entering her slowly. His thumb strummed over her clit.

  Micah’s lips smashed over hers in a wild, open-mouthed, possessive kiss. His tongue delved in deep, twirled and mixed with hers. His hands soldered over her body, touching each piece of skin. His lips sucked every part.

  Her breasts, huge and pliant, were nestled in his palms, whilst his shaft surged hard and throbbing against her body.

  He covered her and pressed her legs up, pushing her shins until she was open to him. Kneeling before her, he slowly began to drive forward. At each disappearing inch, he watched her face, noting the emotions that coasted across it.

  He leaned over her, and his lips crossed hers, licking and tantalizing. Finally he was all the way inside her, snuggled deep. She was sweet and tight and her sex clenched around him with a covetous need.

  “Please, Micah,” she smothered him with kisses, urging him on, “give me my beauty back?”

  His gaze seared over her. Holding her hips, he began to rock against her, tunnelling in. He drove and pushed, his tempo increasing, and looked down into her face, at her closed eyes and parted lips. His hips clenched and he rammed into her. “Hell, baby, I’m going to come now.”

  “Oh God, Micah.” She canted and curved her hips into his driving thrusts, meeting and matching each lunge. “Shit I’m going to … I’m going to ….” She stiffened and screamed. “Christ!” Her arms locked around his neck as orgasm after orgasm rolled over her.

  Micah continued thrusting and then slowly ground to a halt, having finally finished flooding into her. He looked down into Savannah’s flushed face. Her eyes were still closed in what appeared to be pure rapture.

  He was so glad he’d gotten to her in time. Another avalanche of anger stifled him at the thought of her being taken, raped by the disgusting redheaded Slade.

  Yet still, the person who wanted to kill her eluded him.

  ***

  Throughout the night, Micah had made love to Savannah over and over, worshipping every inch of her body. From straight sex, he’d loved her pussy with his mouth, and in turn, she’d taken his shaft between her lips, sucking him until he trembled with the need to come. They’d both been insatiable, especially Micah.

  He was trying to show her what she meant to him without saying the words, not yet. But either way she wasn’t leaving him, ever.

  Dawn spread her fingers tentatively through the windows, filtering her light over their sleeping bodies. Both were wrapped in each other. Micah held Savannah close in his arms, his chin resting on her head.

  A ray of bright light shone into her eyes, and drowsily Savannah struggled to open her lids. She snuggled into his hard body and grinned up at his relaxed face.

  He was still sleeping.

  Thoughtfully, she rested her chin on her palm and studied him.

  She loved him beyond reason and wanted to tell him so, but simply couldn’t. It was the “for now” that counted. He was simply passing through her life. And after he left, she’d have to make do with the memories to keep her going. She knew she’d never meet anyone like him again.

  He was beautiful, both on the outside and where it counted—the heart. A small smile teased her lips as she thought of his devotion to his sister. She could understand that because of Cato. She didn’t doubt he’d do the same for her. To be pregnant and lose the father through a tragedy had to be the worst experience.

  Then she thought of her own period, which was running late. Savannah reasoned it was different for her. She hadn’t set out to get pregnant but knew that if she was, she’d be pleased.

  Because when Micah left, she’d always have a part of him to love and cherish. Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. If he woke up now, he’d wonder what was wrong.

  Instead she rolled back and turned into her pillow as the tears slipped silently down her face. She wondered how much longer she’d have him for, because from the beginning he’d always said that while he was here, he’d make love to her.

  The implication remained clear. There would be no them. He didn’t do relationships.

  She cursed like a wounded animal, but he’d never lied. He’d given her everything, including the truth. She’d made the decision to enjoy this interlude. To blame him would be just mean.

  And yet, heck, it would make her feel so much better to offload her guilt on Micah, pretend he’d led her on. But she couldn’t do that; instead she would strive to enjoy the time they had left together, however short that might be.

  ***

  Micah frowned. He’d woken to find her carefully studying him, and he’d kept his lids partially closed, peeping at her from beneath a fringe of lashes. He wondered at the sadness that swept over her face, the pain expressed in her glaze of tears. He so wanted to take it away, to see her cheeky smile inspired by a healthy dose of happiness. When she turned from him, he heard her deep sniffs into her pillow.

  And he couldn’t remain impassive.

  Rolling over, he wrapped an arm around her. He had to have contact with her. Wherever they were, he needed to touch her. His lips dropped to her throat.

  “You okay, baby?”

  He felt her nod against his chest.

  “Will you take me to visit Cato today?” she mumbled.

  Micah paused. Something was wrong, was hurting her. But then she’d almost drowned, someone was out to kill her, and she’d nearly been raped, so why was he surprised she was crying? “No problem … well, there is just the one.”

  At that she gave a chuckle, and wiped at the dribble of tears, drying her cheeks. “I know. No petrol.”

  ***

  Charu looked up at them as they strolled into the kitchen. Jealousy burned in her at the way Micah shadowed Savannah, his possession of her clear in every move. She wished he’d look at her like that. It was hot, raw, pure primal lust.

  “We’re visiting my brother today,” said Savannah. Turning to Micah, she said, “Toast?”

  “No, I’m not hungry,” he lied.

  She hesitated. “But you didn’t eat last night.”

  He raised a quizzical brow and gave her his bad-assed grin. “I thought I ate my fill?”

  Savannah opened her mouth and closed it, a deep stain colouring her face. Quickly she hid her embarrassment behind the toaster.

  “You’re both off again?” bitched Charu at his remarks, and shifted on her stool. She’d give anything to have his mouth on her lips, either set.

  Savannah spun round. “Er, excuse me, let’s just get this right. I’m the boss and you’re the hired help.” Charu’s lips were pursed in a sulky pout. “In which case you’re employed as a manageress, so manage or finish. The choice is yours.” She folded her arms, waiting. “And …?”

  Charu, almost choking on her hatred, rose in a huff. “I’ll be in my office.” She dropped her mug down with a resounding bang and stalked from the room, her movements rigid as the temper bounced off her. Yet she still managed to sneak a peek at Micah before slamming the door behind her.
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  “About time you put her in her place,” Micah said approvingly. He’d been afraid she was too soft for the job. He knew she had a temper and was stubborn and impulsive, but she was also too naïve and a pushover. Charu, he realized, would take advantage of that. It appeared she’d had her own way for too long.

  His stomach grumbled. Savannah, glanced up, hearing it. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

  ***

  Half an hour later they were on their way to Cato’s. Micah was still trying to keep down the mess she’d served up. The obligatory toast blackened even more than usual, the bacon charred beyond recognition, the fried egg glazed with an unhealthy sheen of fat. He’d glanced up at her, hoping she wasn’t serious, that he couldn’t be expected to eat that. Until she produced dangerously undercooked sausages …. Hell, he thought, they had just as well be raw—the skin blackened, the inside a pale pink.

  She’d sat opposite him, her gaze emphatic, and had nibbled on her toast then indicated the lethal breakfast. “Well, come on, eat, you need to keep your strength up.” Savannah smiled, her white teeth splattered with a film of black specks.

  Micah swallowed and thought she could go out on Halloween with them looking like that. In shocked silence he tucked in, remembering her words: she didn’t like fussy eaters. No way was he upsetting her, but this was a case of self-preservation. Slowly he’d tried to pick what looked like he could eat it without a case of food poisoning or a visit to the dentist.

  When she’d announced she was going to get her purse from upstairs, his spirits rose. He’d darted to the bin and scooped it in, covering it with a crumpled roll of newspaper, just in case she checked. When she came back down, she scanned his empty plate, then gave him a suspicious glance before checking the bin.

  Micah guessed it was one of Cato’s ploys as well.

  ***

  “What’s the reason for this trip?” he asked conversationally, steering with one hand through the lanes.

  “To assure him I’m alive after my near miss.” She rested a hand on his thigh, feeling the heat through the denim. Then she sucked in a ragged sigh. “Who do you think it was, and why?”

  “Don’t know, but it’s obviously to do with the club and the missing ledgers.” He frowned. “And then there’s the fact your godmother died under suspicious circumstances.”

 

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