Nation of the Sun (The Ancient Souls Series Book 1)

by HR Moore

  'Where are we going?'

  'It's a surprise.'

  'Hmm,' said Amari, narrowing her eyes. 'Will I like it?'

  'You'll love it.'

  His eyes lingered on hers. They watched each other, seconds ticking by.

  'What were we arguing about, before you proposed by the fountain? What did I do?'

  Caspar took a long breath. 'Amari, do you really want to talk about this stuff? You'll remember soon enough.'

  'I want to know. Raina's pissed at you for something you've done … but I guess she's done bad things too.'

  'We've both made our share of questionable decisions. And I want to forget them.'

  'Caspar, just tell me. What did I do?'

  Caspar bared his teeth. 'You ran away with an old lover; I don't really know why.'

  Amari felt an intense pang of guilt.

  'I guess I was focusing on work. Raina was fed up with international politics, and wanted me to give it up too. I thought I was close to a breakthrough with the Russian Spirituals and felt compelled to keep going.'

  'So she had an affair.'

  'It was someone from her distant past, although she wouldn't tell me his name. They had a fling before I even met her … she said that's how she'd always thought of it, anyway. Turns out he'd always wanted more. He showed up at a time when our relationship was turbulent.'

  'Have you ever had an affair?'

  'Only once, after I found out Raina had left. It made me sick, and I've never done it again.'

  'Have you been tempted?'

  'No.' He met her eyes. 'You're the only one I want.'

  'Raina's pretty great, huh?'

  She dropped her eyes to his toned, naked chest. It was begging for her to reach out and touch it. Her cheeks flushed.

  'You are Raina,' he said, taking her hand, playing with her fingers.

  He leaned in, invading her space, the heat of his skin radiating towards her, lips so tantalizingly close, but she dipped her head. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but she couldn't.

  'I need to tell Dean it's over,' she said, meeting his gaze. She raised a hand to his cheek, stroking his skin, finally vocalizing the words she'd been hiding from. 'I feel horrible enough as it is.'

  He rested his forehead against hers. 'Will it make any difference?' he asked, closing his eyes, raising his hand to her face, mirroring her touch.

  'I don't know.'

  He had a point. She was going to break Dean's heart either way.

  Chapter 12

  Amari came down early the following day, not wanting to incur the wrath of Helen, who'd laid out fabric, carpet, and paint samples in the sitting room. After making a cup of tea and grabbing an apple from the kitchen, they sat together to make some decisions.

  An hour and a half later, they'd been all over the house, holding up samples to get a sense of how each would look, and how different colors and textures would work together.

  Amari was nothing if not decisive, and by the time they'd finished, she'd made most of the important decisions. She'd chosen textured carpets, muted wall colors—most of which were similar to the rooms' existing colors—and patterned and floral fabrics for the curtains. She'd kept it mostly traditional, but with a twist here or there.

  'I need more tea after all that,' said Amari, turning to see if Helen would like one too, but she'd already disappeared. 'That woman has boundless energy,' Amari said to Caspar, who was loading food into a picnic basket.

  'Be right back,' he said.

  He sneaked the fully laden basket out of the back door and into the car while there was no one around to see.

  'Subtle,' laughed Amari as he returned, giving her a high five.

  'Hey! I'm a criminal mastermind.'

  'I'm sure.'

  'We'd should leave now, or we'll be discovered.'

  'Good plan.'

  'Here,' he said, holding out an insulated metal cup so she could take her tea.

  'Did you pack some of Elliot's flapjack? I'm hungry.'

  'Yes, of course,' he said, ushering her out of the kitchen. 'Come on, let's move.'

  Amari giggled. 'I feel like we're teenagers, sneaking out behind our parents' backs.'

  'Because that's pretty much what we're doing!' laughed Caspar, starting the Range Rover. 'The most difficult bit will be getting past the malt house, but I'm thinking we speed through and stop for nothing.'

  'Don't speed. It'll draw attention. Just drive through at a natural pace, like we're going on an errand for Talli.'

  'That could backfire. If Talli sees us, she'll jump onto the bonnet; I've seen her do it before … but she won't if we're travelling at speed.'

  'You people are crazy.'

  'Yes. I don't think any of us would argue otherwise.'

  'Whatever. But if you kill someone, it's nothing to do with me.'

  Caspar floored it past the malt house, and it turned out he was right to; Talli hurled a projectile at the window as they passed.

  'Jesus Christ!' screamed Amari, thanking all her lucky stars that the window held.

  Caspar laughed loudly. 'I knew she'd be lying in wait.'

  'She threw a brick at the window!'

  'It bounced off. Bullet-proof glass. She just wanted us to know she's pissed.'

  'Message received.'

  'We'll be back after lunch, and she's got an army of people arriving today; they'll be done in no time.'

  They drove down the pretty Somerset lanes, the Range Rover high enough that Amari could see over the hedgerows.

  'It's beautiful around here,' said Amari.

  'Have you spent much time in the countryside?'

  'Not really. I grew up in London, worked in London, and went on holidays abroad mainly. What about you?'

  'Raina and I lived all over the place. You were born in the Middle East. I was born in France, or at least, what's now called France, but since then, we've lived all across the world. We both did a stint in Nepal, finding ourselves.'

  Amari laughed. 'Of course we did.'

  'We lived in a castle in Scotland for a bit. We've had houses in Devon, Cornwall, Pembrokeshire, Hertfordshire, East Anglia. We've travelled to pretty much everywhere in the UK, and we've lived abroad too.'

  'Do people usually reincarnate in the same place they died?'

  'Generally, it's wherever they considered to be home when they died, but it's not straightforward. You could have several homes, or might not feel like you have a home at all.'

  'I guess that's why there are hunters.'

  'Yep.'

  'They have a terrible name, by the way.'

  'Better than the Slayers.'

  'True.'

  Caspar turned the Range Rover onto a side road, ignoring the big sign saying, Private. Keep out. He drove to the end of the tree-lined track, stopping in a wide area next to a big metal gate.

  'Where are we?' asked Amari.

  'At the most perfect picnic spot you'll ever find.'

  Caspar retrieved the basket and a blanket, then led her through the gap at the side of the gate, into the woodland beyond.

  They walked for maybe two minutes—Amari glad she'd worn sensible shoes—then came out into a beautiful clearing next to a lively stream.

  Caspar turned downstream, halting alongside a natural pool. There was a little waterfall where water flowed in, the sound soothing, and a lip at the other side, over which the water flowed out. The pool in the middle looked deep and wide and perfect for a dip.

  'I didn't bring any swimming stuff,' said Amari, disappointed.

  Caspar laughed, laying out the picnic blanket. 'You're not normally concerned with such things.'

  Amari scowled. 'Well, I am now.'

  'I'll turn my back and avert my gaze, I promise. And I've got towels.' He unhooked them from the bottom of the wicker basket, and held them up for her to see.

  Amari sighed. 'Oh, fine. Seeing as you promised.'

  'Quick dip before we eat?' Caspar suggested, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning
his shirt without waiting for a reply.

  Amari watched with interest, but turned quickly away when his hands went to his belt buckle. Caspar laughed.

  'Flipping Pagans.'

  'Wait until tomorrow; you haven't seen anything yet …'

  'I dread to think,' she said, beginning to strip off her clothes.

  Caspar jumped into the water with a splash.

  'Bloody hell!' he gasped. 'It's freezing.'

  Amari giggled. 'Turn around.'

  Caspar reluctantly turned his back, panting and splashing as his body got used to the temperature. Amari pulled off her underwear and walked to the water's edge. She dipped in a toe, then pulled it quickly back.

  'You're right; it's too cold for a swim.'

  Caspar began to turn around.

  'Don't you dare!' she shrieked.

  'You've just got to go for it. Jump in; it's the only way.'

  'It's cold. Unpleasantly cold.'

  'I'm turning around.'

  'No!'

  'Three, two, one.'

  Amari jumped. The cold hit her like a wall. She surfaced, struggling for breath, her feet not quite reaching the bottom.

  'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' she whimpered, trying to breathe.

  'It'll be okay in a minute,' he chuckled, taking her in. 'My body's adjusted already.'

  Their eyes met across the pool, and Amari's mind was hijacked by a memory. She and an Italian man with Caspar's eyes were swimming in a natural pool. It was night, and it was colder than she'd expected. She was complaining about the temperature.

  The man laughed loudly, prowling towards her, lit only by the moon. Waterfalls created mist that cooled her further. She moved away from the spray, ducking into the water, keeping a careful eye on Caspar's progress.

  Caspar altered his course, ceaselessly and wordlessly stalking her. Her heart raced as he got within range. She splashed him and dove away, squealing as he caught her foot, preventing her escape.

  Her feet went to the bottom, forcing him to relinquish her, but his hand ran up her leg, across her backside, to her waist. She shivered, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting him pull her naked body flush against him.

  Caspar lifted her, enfolding her in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around him. They kissed, and it was deep and leisurely and healing. She was his and he was hers, and they needed nothing more than that, but they needed it, each other.

  They needed to touch, to feel the fierce heat of their bodies pressed together, to entangle themselves and lie together, holding each other. It energized and restored them, just being near the other. It brought safety, belonging.

  Feeling throbbed in Raina's chest, filling it with pressure, pushing against her ribs, threatening to crack her open. Love … such an inadequate word for an extension of your soul, thought Raina, pulling back far enough to look at him. For someone who'd be yours until you turned to dust.

  Amari snapped out of the memory to find herself in Caspar's arms. She didn't think, wrapping herself around him, holding him to her.

  'Hey … it's okay,' said Caspar, running a hand across her back. 'Another memory?'

  'I told you I didn't want you to see me naked,' sobbed Amari, overtaken by a swell of emotion. 'I never cry. How have you turned me into such a mess?'

  'I thought, on balance, that you'd prefer for me to see your naked body than to drown; you dropped like a stone. Anyway, I can't see much; you're too close for a good view.'

  'I guess,' she said, desperately holding onto him, holding onto the feeling from the memory, trying not to think about their nakedness.

  Silence settled over them.

  'Want to tell me about it?' Caspar asked gently.

  'We were at some outdoor pools,' she said into his neck. 'There were waterfalls. It was night and it was cold. You looked Italian.'

  'Oh. Terme di Saturnia,' said Caspar, quietly, 'hundreds of years ago.'

  She pressed her lips against Caspar's beating pulse, breathing in the smell from the memory.

  He shivered.

  'You've felt that way for hundreds of years?'

  Caspar's lips brushed her ear. 'We have; you and I.'

  Amari could still feel how they'd felt for each other in every inch of her body; a craving like nothing she'd ever known. She wanted to entwine their bodies, to crawl inside him, to join themselves in every possible way.

  Her body burned hot everywhere they touched, desire fierce and demanding, rampaging through her veins. Her brain shut down; she couldn't think, could only act.

  She kissed his pulse again, then lifted her head, pulling back so she could look into his eyes, not caring that her breasts were in full view.

  His breath hitched, eyes going black as she put a hand on his cheek, ran a thumb across his lips. He closed his eyes, took a breath, opened them, ran his gaze over her naked flesh.

  She took his head in both her hands and pulled his lips to hers. They kissed like they had in the memory, like there was nothing else in the world, like all that mattered was this.

  Eventually, the cold forced them from the pool. Caspar jumped out first, grabbing one of the big, fluffy towels, wrapping it around his shoulders.

  He practically tackled Amari as she climbed out, forcing a delighted shriek to escape her lips. He pulled her into his chest, closing his arms around her, the heat shocking after the cold bite of the air.

  Caspar trailed his fingers up and down her skin, sending a searing bolt of desire to her core.

  She kissed him, pressed her body against his, spurred on by his reaction to her touch.

  He groaned into her mouth, pushing her backwards. Amari's hands circled his back, clinging to him, driven by instinct alone.

  They reached the blanket and Caspar hooked his leg around Amari's ankles, tripping her, catching her weight as she crumpled backwards, lowering her to the ground.

  He kissed her neck, cupped her breast. Amari gasped as he pinched her nipple, bucking her hips against him.

  His mouth replaced his hand, teasing her nipple as his fingers traced the contours of her body, exploring her skin with small, tantalizing movements. He slid across her hip bone, into the hollow beside it, along the crease at the base of her belly. She raised her hips, urging his fingers lower. Instead, he walked them up, across her stomach, stepping from one rib to the next.

  His lips kissed upwards, to her collarbone, then sucked and kissed and licked the skin just below it.

  Amari gasped in surprise as her muscles clenched. He chuckled and she grabbed his hair. He growled into her neck, taking a breast in his hand, massaging, flicking, rolling.

  He nipped at her neck, and she tipped her head back, giving him more room.

  He slid his hand down across her skin, laying his palm flat on her stomach, the weight of it sparking a delicious sensation between her thighs.

  His hand slid lower, ever closer. Her hips bucked when he reached her core, and she moaned, arching into him, writhing against him. His lips met hers, tongue probing into her mouth, and sensation filled every inch of her, driving her crazy.

  Her hands went to his back, pulling at him until he finally rolled on top of her, the weight of him pressing her down. She hummed with pleasure, feeling him hard between her thighs. She raised her hips, tried to make him give her what she wanted.

  He breathed a laugh into her ear. 'What's the rush?' he murmured, making small, infuriating movements.

  She grasped a handful of his hair, forcing him to meet her eyes. 'I want you.'

  He held her gaze for a beat then lowered his lips to her mouth, their kisses long and deep as he nudged at her core.

  He pushed inside, and they both gasped. Amari wrapped her legs around him, wanting more. His movements were slow, deliberate, reverent.

  His lips went to her ear, huffs of breath caressing her skin. He slipped his hands under her backside, lifting her, pushing deeper, increasing the pace.

  He groaned into her neck and the sound ripped through her, setting her alight. He sensed it
, his movements becoming faster, fiercer, winding her tighter, ever closer to the brink, until a hard, deep thrust finally gave her release. He followed her over, and together, they rode wave after wave of pleasure.

  Amari and Caspar travelled back to Maltings in silence, each lost in thought, their hands linked together.

  They'd finally pulled apart, wrapped themselves in the towels, and dug into the picnic. They'd touched at all times, Amari leaning against Caspar as he lounged on the blanket.

  Caspar had packed every delicious thing he could find: Scotch eggs, Comté and Manchego cheeses with crackers and homemade chutney, raspberries from the canes that had been uncovered in the overgrown garden, quiche, flapjack, and a bottle of crisp white wine.

  After they'd eaten, they'd laid together, cuddling, taking turns to instigate long, luxurious kisses, trickling water and chirping birds the soundtrack to their bliss.

  Amari couldn't find words to match her feelings. She could barely remember what Dean looked like, and the thought sickened her. How could that be possible, in such a short amount of time? But what she'd felt in the flashback … there was nothing that could compare, not if she lived ten thousand lifetimes.

  She loved Caspar. My God, she did. She loved him. How could that be? It wasn't like the feeling from the dream … not yet. But she wanted it, that feeling, needed it, like an addict, craving more after her first taste of a potent drug.

  They got back to Maltings, driving straight past the crowd of demons now sitting round a central bonfire, talking, singing, dancing, and eating. Talli was dancing around the maypole, seeming not to notice the Range Rover as it sailed by.

  Caspar parked by the back door and helped Amari out, not bothering to retrieve the picnic basket. He threaded his fingers through hers and headed straight for the stairs.

  Amari followed in a trance, not caring if the whole world saw them, caring only that she was with him. He led them to Amari's bedroom, closed the door, and pulled her around to face him.

  'Are you sure?' he asked. 'Now we're back here … you still want this? Still want me?'

  She reached up and pressed her lips against his, a feeling of rightness settling over her, of relief.