by A. C. Arthur
“I am not distracted,” Thaddeus lied. “You did not tell me everything, did you?”
“I told you what was necessary for your mission.”
Thaddeus stood, even his large form dwarfed by his father’s massive chest and bulging arms. “He’s after her, isn’t he? Her husband?”
Stroking his beard with one hand while the other clutched his all-powerful weapon, his father frowned. “Mortals are such silly creatures. One would think it would be easy to dispose of a husband or a wife if you no longer wanted them. Yet they resort to such foolishness.”
Thaddeus pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d read her thoughts clearly while they were in the office. Her back had been to him as she touched the music box, memories flooding through her fiercely. The original gift of the music box had been sweet, romantic even. But this time, Thaddeus had a feeling that was not the intent. “She believes it is he. She is afraid.”
“And she should be. He is dangerous, and a thick blackness follows him. We’ve watched it for some time and know that it brings trouble for us all. That is why you were sent to protect her. We knew if anybody could protect her, you could .”
“This is not what I thought it would be,” Thaddeus whispered. He’d moved to the window, leaned his shoulder against the frame and looked in the direction of Tayla’s cottage.
“Some things in life never are, especially when you are dealing with mortals.” With fluid movements his father came up behind him, placing a strong hand, untouched by the thousands of years of his age, on his shoulder. “Just remember that she is a mortal. You are in their world for now and must act accordingly. Mortals do not understand that which is different, and they fear what they do not understand.”
And she would fear him. The moment she realized what he truly was, she would fear him. He did not want to see that look in her eyes, did not want to receive the cruelty he knew would come next.
That was just another reason why this strange connection he felt toward her had to be avoided. There could never be anything more between them.
So he would remember their differences and do the job he was sent to do. Soon, it would all be over—for him at least.
Chapter 4
Tayla tossed and turned in her bed, pulling the sheets out from the mattress as she did.
She was running fast and hard to escape. Jerome was on her heels, yelling that she’d never get away from him, taunting her with his sick laugh. Music played in the background, although she couldn’t quite tell what the tune was.
When she’d first begun running she was in the mansion back in Boston, her pedicured toes peeking from beneath the floor length-white evening gown she’d worn to a dinner party with Jerome. He’d insulted her all evening with his casual put-downs and obvious disapproval of everything she said and did until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She’d politely excused herself from the table and, once outside the huge formal dining room, had run out of the house into the brisk night air.
He’d come behind her as she half expected he would. Jerome did not like to lose his possessions. He was very materialistic, keeping all that was dear to him very close. Tayla had looked back only once, but now she felt his heavy breathing catching up to her.
Then she was in the park…or was it the forest? There were so many trees, stretching upward and upward. Her bare feet cushioned by a bed of fallen leaves, she deftly maneuvered her way through the brush and past a creek. Amazingly, she wasn’t out of breath. She kept running and running.
She hadn’t heard Jerome’s voice for a few moments and she chanced a look behind her. He was no longer there. She slowed her steps but still kept moving, deeper and deeper into the forest—to where, she had no idea.
Then she bumped into something. She spread her palms to keep her face from bashing into the solid hardness. When strong hands came around her waist, she gasped and reared back, craned her neck to look up and see who held her captive. Out of the darkness his face appeared, revealed by the moonlight. Intense eyes in a face with strong bone structure and cream-colored skin bored into hers. Five o’clock shadow had never looked so good. Tayla felt herself melting in his arms.
The stranger in the forest did not speak, only looked at her as if…as if she were the only person on earth. Then his eyes darkened, which seemed impossible since they were already an ominous black. His long flowing locks were now loose and hanging around his shoulders like a curtain. Nervously, Tayla moved her hands over the expanse of his chest in tentative exploration. He was solid, muscled and more man than she’d ever been close to in her life.
A strange light outlined his large form, and heat emanated from his body. But this time she was not burned. This time the heat moved slowly through her fingers, up her limbs and spread throughout her body. She felt different, as if she too were covered in that basking glow with him. Her feet no longer felt the earth beneath her.
And none of this seemed strange because she was in his arms. He made her feel safe, protected, wanted. She clung to that feeling because she’d never experienced it before. She clung to him because who or whatever he was, he made her feel good.
Instinctively she wanted to touch her lips to his, to bring that grim mouth down on her own to see what he was made of.
She lifted her arms, reaching for his neck. As she came up on tiptoe he bent down to meet her. Her fingers lightly touched the soft sandy brown dreads before going around his thick neck. He was but a breath away from her now, his eyes hooded, his lips parted. She puckered, explored his lips with a feather light brush, then snaked her tongue out to memorize their shape, their texture. His hands splayed over her lower back and down to her buttocks, cupping each mound as he rubbed her center against his groin—his thick, hot groin.
He parted his lips more and she eagerly dipped her tongue inside. He met her with great fervor as they dueled first tentatively then with more lust, with passion that was now growing between then. As the kiss deepened, his hands began to roam her body with bodacious longing. She whimpered and felt herself dampening between her legs in response.
Then he lifted her from the ground. She instantly wrapped her legs around his waist, clasping her ankles together. His hands slipped under her dress, found her bare body beneath and touched…
Streams of sunlight and early outdoor sounds came bursting through her bedroom window and Tayla groaned.
Dawn had picked a perfectly inopportune time to cheerfully arrive!
* * *
Tayla was cranky. Her nightmare/dream had robbed her of much-needed slumber. But now that she was up and about, she refused to let either man—the ones who had occupied her dreams last night—take over her every thought. One was just as bad as the other in her mind, and she was through with that—through with being a slave to useless emotions.
She’d had a shower and a cup of coffee and was now sitting in her tiny kitchen looking out the window. The sun was shining brightly, as if that horrendous storm hadn’t blown through just last night. The rain and thunder had stopped completely soon after Thaddeus left, but, for hours afterwards, she’d felt the remnants of the chill caused by her soaked clothes.
The tune from the music box played in her head and she sighed. It had to be Jerome. Nobody else knew the significance of the music box in her life. It was a symbol. A sign that he was doing what he’d always promised her he’d do.
“There’s no place you can go that I won’t find you, Tayla. So don’t even try to run,” he’d threatened her one night after they’d argued.
She remembered believing him, knowing that what he said was nothing but the absolute truth. And now it appeared he’d done just that. So what was she supposed to do now? She was tired of running. Boston was where she had been born and raised. It was her home. And she’d let fear of Jerome and his family chase her away.
In the last two years she’d made a new home here at Grayson Moore. She liked it here. She’d had freedom here, emotional and physical. She’d had peace.
She was al
l the way across the country from him and his family, and yet they’d come for her. He was once again trying to dominate her life. She decided then and there that she was not going to pick up and leave again. She was through running away from Jerome Ranier. If he’d found her, then she’d face him. She would not spend the duration of her life being his prisoner, nor would she give him enough importance in her life to continue hiding. This time she’d have to face him down.
And one of them would lose.
A knock at the door startled her, and she cursed. She was jumpy and preoccupied, and she didn’t like it one bit. Her careful composure had been shifted, and she wanted it back. Taking a deep breath, she rose from the table and moved toward the door.
She knew who it was, could feel the swirling in the pit of her stomach begin. Through the night she still hadn’t figured out what it was about Thaddeus that affected her this way. It was as if he belonged to her, as if all she needed to do was think of him and he’d be there. That had to be the weirdest thought she’d ever had in her life. She chalked it up to severe stress.
“Good morning,” he smiled when she opened the door.
She wanted to hug him, to wrap her arms around his neck and hold onto him, because she felt so safe when he was near, but she refrained. That safeness was in her dream. The here and now brought more questions. Without answers, she needed to keep her distance from Thaddeus Delos as well. “Good morning,” she said dryly.
He wore jeans that were so stiff they looked as if he’d just ripped the tags off them, and a navy blue shirt. Her eyes involuntarily fell to his chest, and she remembered how it had felt beneath her touch. His hair was pulled back again and she wondered how he would react if she pulled it free. This physical attraction between them was almost annoying in its intensity. Tayla could not remember ever before feeling this aroused by a man.
Then again, never did she remember meeting a man like Thaddeus.
“Are you ready to go to your office?” Thaddeus asked when the silence had gone on for too long. She looked really pretty this morning, her khaki shorts and crisp white shirt giving her the look of a student. Until he acknowledged the curves. She had thick thighs and heavy breasts that no amount of clothing was going to hide. On impulse he reached out and slid his forefinger across her jaw.
He simply had to touch her. Touching her made him feel alive, more alive than he had felt in centuries. And a part of him wanted to touch her until his days were over.
The moment he touched her, Tayla lost her train of thought. “What did you say?”
Thaddeus grinned. He didn’t need to look into her thoughts to tell what she was thinking. Each time he touched her he knew she felt the same longings that he did. It was shared, this feeling of need and desire, and that frightened him. He and Tayla were different in more ways than she could ever imagine. That was why this thing between them could not go beyond the professional level. If only he could convince his body of that. If only he could stop longing for something more permanent, more substantial in his life. “I asked if you were ready to go to the office.”
Tayla blinked, shook her head a little to regain her senses. So much for not being a slave to useless emotions, but then lust wasn’t entirely useless. “Oh, yeah, the office. Yes, come on in. I have to get my shoes.” She turned away from him, moving toward her bedroom.
Thaddeus was a mixture of godly powers and ancient myths, but at this moment he was all man. He watched the sway of her hips, the delectable curve of her bottom, and felt himself swelling. His father and uncles trusted him with this task. They expected him to do what was necessary, what was right. But how could he when his body was telling him something totally different?
His lips set in a grim line. They probably set me up. He wouldn’t put it past them. The gods of Olympus were terribly competitive; everything was a game, a bet to them, and more often than not innocent bystanders were caught in the middle. In this case, he was the innocent bystander. He’d kept to himself most of his life, enjoying the simpler things, not really falling into the power plays and mythical battles recorded in books of mythology. His life was complex enough without them. His genetic makeup was always cause for worry, and he spent much time contemplating the inevitable.
And now that he’d met Tayla, he thought about it even more. She appealed to him in ways he thought did not exist. Her strength and her compassion had touched him the first time he’d met her. She’d been through something horrific, he could sense that. And yet she was standing strong, running this school, caring for these children. Last night she’d been afraid. He’d smelled the fear and was angered by her husband’s hold on her. But Tayla had not let that fear rule her. She’d looked after the children first, resigning herself to deal with her own issues later.
He admired her.
Admiration and longing mingled inside him, creating a pool of unsteady emotions within an already tumultuous soul. The conflict was huge and threatened to overtake him. If he did not get hold of it he could not do his job. And Tayla would die.
“I’m all set,” she said in a cheerful voice as she came back into the living room. Then she saw that Thaddeus was standing near her couch gripping the back of the chair as if he were about to tear it apart. His features were tense, his body rigid. “Are you okay?” Before considering how wise the decision was, she went to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
That was a mistake.
“Don’t!” Thaddeus yelled and pulled away just as she yelped and looked down at her hand. “Dammit,” he growled and moved to her quickly.
Tayla had been stunned by his heat. The palm of her hand radiated with it as she took small steps away from him. But she didn’t take her eyes off him, didn’t look away this time as she had in the forest. There was something not right about him, something that confused her. “Who are you?” she heard herself whisper.
“Tayla.” He reached for her but she moved away. He stopped, forced himself to calm down, to gain some semblance of control. He needed her to trust him. That was the only way he could keep her safe. If she were afraid of him—or even repulsed by him—she’d pull away, and then her husband could get to her. “I am sorry. I was just thinking of something and you startled me,” he tried to explain.
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Do you scorch everybody that startles you? Or am I special?” She’d begun rubbing her palm down her thigh, trying to cool the sting.
Thaddeus moved again. She didn’t retreat this time but looked up at him in challenge. The feisty spark in her eyes appealed to him and he took another step, reached for her hand. “Let me see.”
“No!” she snapped quickly. She should throw him out. She should fire him and send his strange, overheated behind packing. He kept his eyes trained on hers as he reached for her again. Surely she wasn’t falling for that bedroom eyes trick, but there she was extending her hand to him, like a love-struck girl. He took it between both his palms and held still, never taking his eyes from hers. That dark gaze consumed her and she gasped. For a brief moment she felt as if she were a part of him, as if they were one.
“You are special, Tayla. That is why I am here.” He’d considered their situation all night. If he just told her that he was here to protect her, maybe it would make this entire situation easier. She’d know that he wasn’t here to stay and she’d stop looking at him as if they were long-lost lovers, stop thinking of them sleeping together. And if she stopped doing those things, he’d reluctantly follow suit.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered. His hands were moving over hers now as he grabbed the other one, his thumbs rubbing against the pulse at her wrist. She took a step closer to him, until the tips of her breasts almost brushed against him.
“I was sent to protect you.”
She flinched a little when he said that and instantly thought of Jerome. “Who sent you?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
“Why not?” Because it was Jerome. He hadn’t been sent here to protect her; he’d been se
nt to keep her here until Jerome arrived.
Thaddeus saw the flicker of panic in her eyes seconds before she attempted to pull away from him. He held her firm, sensing that she felt threatened. “I would never hurt you, Tayla.” She must think he had something to do with the break-in because the fear he sensed was aimed at him now. Exactly what he didn’t want.
His words were soft, his grip on her strong but not painful. “I never thought you would,” she said slowly, and suddenly realized she meant it. Although she didn’t know who the hell he was or why he was really here, he made her feel safe instead of afraid. “But once upon a time somebody else told me the same thing,” she said as a second thought.
Thaddeus felt the sting of her words and wanted nothing more than to take that hurt away from her. “You are being hunted and I am here to see that he does not succeed.” Because he needed to increase their contact he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her waist and waited to see if she would do the same. She did, slowly, tentatively.
Tayla gave a nervous chuckle. “You’re kidding, right?” She settled into his embrace, having no clue why she did but welcoming the comforting feel of his arms around her. This had to be the weirdest situation she’d ever found herself in. Here was this stranger—well, she’d known him for weeks now now—who’d come from an employment agency to work for her school. From the first day he’d taken liberties to touch her that she’d shunned outwardly but still welcomed secretly. One minute he was gentle, compassionate, even pleasant to be around, and the next he was angry, nearly violent and…smoldering.
She rubbed her palms up and down his back, wondering if she’d feel that intense heat again. Instead, she encountered a delicate warmth that almost made her purr. “Who would be hunting me, and who are you to offer your protection?” And how did he know that she needed protection?