Burning Dawn

by Gena Showalter

Yeah. She'd found a candidate. Teasing him, she said, "Okay, one arsenic, coming up."

  A genuine laugh of amusement barked from him.

  Most Beautiful liked death threats with his alcohol. Got it.

  "I'll be coming back for you, female," he said. "I guarantee it."

  Thane banged a hand against the tabletop, and a jagged crack formed in the center. Startled, Elin yelped. Uh-oh. Stupid girl! Had she really just threatened his friend the way she threatened regular customers? Plucky best friend hadn't worked. She'd had to go with homicidal sweetheart.

  "I wasn't really going to feed him arsenic," she rushed out.

  But Thane's gaze wasn't on her. It was on Most Beautiful. "Elin, send Savy in here, then have Adrian escort you to my suite."

  Wait. What? "Uh, well--"

  "No arguments," he snapped, still not glancing in her direction.

  "Who said I was going to argue?" I was. I so was. Why did he want her to go to his suite? To punish her in private? She scanned the six occupants in the small, secluded room at the north corner of the bar, hoping for concrete answers. No longer did anyone pay her any heed. Everyone watched Thane with unabashed interest. "Fine. I'll do it." I thought we were semi-friends, you jerk! "But would it be okay if I gave the order to Bellorie instead?"

  It was probably a million kinds of wrong to suggest a change. Probably? Ha. With Mr. No Debate, it was. More than that, warriors didn't like to be second-guessed. And Thane was more warrior than most!

  But Bellorie was Elin's personal favorite, and the girl wanted in here so bad. And, really, Elin was already in trouble. What harm could a little more do?

  Oh, crap. A little more trouble could equal a lot more pain. Like the time Kendra whipped her--and then threw her into a salt bath.

  At last Thane faced her. Those electric blues practically vibrated with awareness, unnerving her. Making her feel naked rather than partially clothed.

  Making her body crave all over again...

  An unreadable light entered his eyes--something hard and hot. Carnal and dangerous. Rather than order her to bend over his lap and apologize while he spanked her, which she kind of expected, he nodded. "Send Bellorie."

  Most Beautiful gaped at Thane. "Did you just change your orders? For an employee?"

  Not waiting around to hear his reply, Elin rushed out and hunted her best girl. The bubbly Harpy was at the bar, loading a tray with drinks.

  "You're up, Rocket," Elin told her. "Thane wants you serving his table tonight."

  The redhead faced her, mouth agape. "Me? Really? Even though I tried to give Koldo a lap dance last time?"

  Which one was Koldo? Most Beautiful? "Yep. Even though."

  Bellorie jumped up and down with excitement. "This is gonna be the best night ever."

  "Just be careful. Thane is in a snarly mood. Definitely don't threaten his friends."

  "Please." Bellorie pulled a tube of bright red lipstick from her pocket. "I'm not in my early fifties anymore. I would never do anything as childish as threatening a Sent One."

  Blimey. "How old are you?"

  "One hundred and three luscious years." This was said as if the advanced age were perfectly normal. And up here, it totally was.

  Just how old was Thane? Had he already lived a lifetime, like Bellorie? Or several lifetimes?

  Either way, he would live several more. Maybe Elin would age more slowly than the average human. Maybe she wouldn't. She had no outward signs of being Phoenix, no fangs or claws. No ability to produce flames. No birthmarks. So, why would she have any internal signs, like eternal youth?

  This was just another reason to stay away from Thane.

  "So, where will you be while the sexiest males in the skies are falling madly, passionately in lust with me?" Bellorie asked, fluffing her hair and checking her appearance in the mirror over the bar.

  Can't tell her. Just...can't. Pity--or worse, horror--would take over her features, and Elin would never find the courage to wait for Thane and the coming punishment, as ordered. A punishment she wouldn't accept peacefully!

  "I'm taking care of something for Mr. Thane." Truth, without details. Friendship preserved. She gave the girl a little push toward the private room. "You better go before you make his crap list."

  "Wouldn't be the first time, Bonka Donk." Grinning, Bellorie skipped away.

  Elin reluctantly approached Adrian. He didn't look at her, but his posture did straighten the slightest degree. "You're supposed to escort me to Thane's stupid suite to await his stupid majesty's every stupid whim."

  A moment passed. Then another. No response was forthcoming. At first, she didn't think he'd heard her. Then he stalked away from her and entered the private room. He exited a few minutes later, his expression granite hard and rougher than sandpaper. He bypassed Elin--still without a word. Whatever. She followed.

  "So gracious," she tsked. "What did you say to him? Did you ask him if I was a dirty liar?"

  There was a strained pause. Then, "I asked if he was sure that's what he wanted."

  "And?"

  "And, he threatened to stake me."

  Ouch.

  "I'm sorry for what's to come, human," he said, when finally they reached the suite. "I'd sneak you back to land if I thought it would make any difference. But he would follow, and neither of us would like what happened when he found you."

  "That's not very comforting."

  "At this point, there's nothing that will be."

  She stepped past the doors. He returned to the hallway and shut the entrance in her face, sealing her inside, before she could demand details.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THANE STOOD AT the edge of the couch, peering down at a sleeping Elin. He would never tire of looking at her. Dark hair tumbled around her delicate shoulders. Long lashes cast shadows over the sweet definition of her cheekbones. Her freckles beckoned. Her soft lips parted as she released a breathy sigh. Of what did she dream?

  And why did she continue to affect him so strongly--more strongly every day? Today his heart had sped into a wild beat at the first sight of her. Worse, sending her away had been torture.

  He'd wanted so badly to go to her, but he'd left the meeting with the Sent Ones to speak to another group of males he... Trusted wasn't the right word. Utilized upon occasion. Yes. Better.

  The Lords of the Underworld were immortal warriors possessed by the demons once locked inside Pandora's box, and, surprisingly enough, they were currently on the side of the Sent Ones, their would-be assassins. They fought the evil they hosted, rather than encouraging it, which made them worthy allies in the heavenly warriors' eyes.

  Thane had asked about the shadow creatures now connected to Bjorn.

  William had been there, pale and withdrawn, drinking and trying to forget the death of his daughter. "I know them," the male had said. "They were birthed in a realm unlike any other, dark without any hint of light. They are hive-minded. They have a queen, and they obey her without question. She is..." He shuddered. "If they're afraid of your soldier, then he's protected by her--or united with her. Either way, he'd be better off dead. And castrated."

  Thane had fumed all the way home. He'd hoped to find a female in the bar and calm himself the only way he knew how--a plan he'd actually despised. But then he'd remembered his order to Elin and nearly mowed down his entire staff in an effort to reach her.

  And here she was. Safe and sound.

  Ripe enough to be plucked.

  Her soap-and-cherries scent saturated every inch of the room. He'd always resented foreign fragrances on his things, but this...this he liked.

  Elin was in an upright position, her head resting on the back of the couch. Had she fought her body's need for rest, only to succumb where she sat?

  A small glass shard peeked from the top of a white-knuckled grip. Still frightened of him?

  Careful not to wake her or cut her delicate skin, he pried the shard loose. Her skin was ice-cold, he noted, and frowned. With so little clothing, and no blanket,
the air had chilled her.

  He stalked to his bedroom--his, not the one he used for his women--and grabbed the softest blanket in his possession. Laughing male voices filtered through the crack underneath Bjorn's door as he strode back to the sitting room.

  Thank the Most High. His friend had found some levity.

  At the couch, he willed his robe to conform to his body and separate into a shirt and a pair of pants. Then he removed the shirt, wanting fewer barriers between the heat of his skin and Elin. He gathered her in his arms. So light, so soft. As trusting as a child, she snuggled her head in the hollow of his neck, seeking closer contact. He had to bite his tongue to silence a moan of pleasure.

  Pleasure. Over this. What was wrong with him?

  Reeling, he turned and eased onto the couch, settling the girl on his lap. He draped the blanket around her, cinching her in a cocoon of heat. Mistake! Her scent grew stronger. Her breath fanned over his chest, as erotic as a caress, and her hand fluttered over his shaft.

  He hardened in an instant.

  Resist her. Yes, he would resist her. Even as his body trembled with undeniable thrums of arousal. He would warm her up, wake her up, then escort her back to her room. Then he would find an appropriate woman to slake his desires.

  Elin rubbed her cheek against his pectoral and purred, her mouth perilously close to his nipple.

  Lick me. Taste me.

  His arms tightened around her. He didn't want an appropriate woman. He wanted this one. But...

  He imagined her chained and struggling.

  He shuddered, more horrified than ever.

  He imagined her crying and begging as he injured her, perhaps scarring her as Kendra had.

  A shudder of revulsion shook him.

  He imagined Elin standing behind him, using one of his plethora of tools to inflict pain on him, with delight in her eyes.

  Cold sweat beaded over his skin.

  He'd experienced this type of reaction before. With her. Only her. But it was beginning to spill over into other areas. Like every time he thought about the women he'd bedded, and how he'd never really known them. The kind of lives they'd led. Carefree...or as tormented as his own.

  Had he heaped hurt on already hurting women? Crowded them with so many weeds they couldn't breathe?

  The guilt...

  He couldn't do the same to Elin. Couldn't add to her anguish. Wouldn't.

  But he had to have her.

  Take her, then. Gently. Maybe you'll like it. Maybe you won't. Either way...

  Either way, she would be his.

  And he could ensure she enjoyed it, whether or not he did. He could please her as much--or more--than her husband.

  A dangerous thought, for she might want more from him.

  A tempting thought, for that very reason.

  If he found himself reverting to habit, as he feared he might, he would stop and walk away. He would leave her satisfied, but he would leave her.

  Now, all he had to do was convince Elin.

  *

  ELIN WOKE UP GRADUALLY, several facts slowly pushing into her awareness. She was cozied up to a warm male body, and that warm male body didn't belong to the twenty-year-old Bay, who'd been lean, like a long-distance runner. It was too wide. Too hard. Too...everything. The male body did belong to Thane. She would recognize his dangerous champagne scent anywhere.

  Confusion struck. How had she ended up in his arms? She remembered being shut up in his suite--thanks, Adrian. Owe you one. She remembered pacing, wondering what Thane planned to do to her, and yawning a few thousand times, despite her agitation. She remembered cursing the fact that she was missing a Multiple Scorgasms practice. The team might never forgive her. She remembered settling on the couch to conserve her energy. Then...nothing.

  Now...Thane's strong hand stroked along the ridges of her spine, up and down, up and down, stopping every so often to play with strands of her hair. Delicious. Desire too long denied rolled through her, an unstoppable tidal wave. Consuming her. Drowning her. But, oh, what a way to go.

  Here was everything she'd craved for the past year. Comfort. Contact. Connection. The three C's of enticement.

  Thane wasn't a candidate for her bang and bail...but he was the only male she wanted.

  Being with him will come at a terrible price.

  Oh, yeah. Swallowing a moan that would have embarrassed her, she jolted upright. His arms, already banded around her, tightened before she could stand, locking her in place. Ignore the rapturous feel of him. Desperate, she cast her gaze over the room. The lights had been dimmed and now cast only the softest, most romantic glow. He hadn't moved her from the couch, but had slid in underneath her. Oh, criminy, why?

  "Look at me, Elin," he demanded, the strain in his voice catching her by surprise.

  Reluctantly she faced him--and then wished she hadn't. This close, she could see tension branching from eyes crackling with electricity, and a mouth set in a hard line. He looked wild, savage, capable of any dark deed...and yet she yearned to sink closer to him, to put her hands all over him, and feel his hands all over her.

  "Are you going to punish me?" she asked. Nothing would toss her out of her amorous mood faster.

  "Punish you?" His expression shuttered, then closed off entirely. "No. Why would you think that?"

  "I threatened your friend with arsenic."

  "That's right. You did. Thank you for the reminder."

  She slapped the heel of her palm against her forehead. "How dumb can I be? Golden rule number one is never remind a boss of your mistakes. If he can't remember, you shouldn't, either."

  "I liked that you threatened him. He deserved it." His gaze dropped to her lips. His eyelids seemed to grow heavier by the second, lack of emotion no longer a problem. He sizzled. "But that isn't what I wish to discuss."

  Oh. "Then what?" she asked, relieved...confused.

  He gave her a look so intense, so hot, it would be forever branded in her mind. "I thought I could stop it, but I can't."

  Stop it. The attraction.

  The need.

  She knew that was what he meant, and heat pooled low in her belly.

  Oh, no. No, no, no. One of them had to stay sane.

  "You are wasted on a man's memory, kulta," Thane continued silkily, "and I'm not going to stand for it anymore."

  Killing me... "You don't have to. I decided to be with someone," she whispered.

  One corner of his mouth tilted up. "Me." It wasn't a question.

  She hesitated, then admitted, "Actually, no." Maybe the truth would stop the madness.

  He stiffened, and flames began to crackle in his eyes. Flames so wild, they were actually scary. "Who?"

  The word was like a punch.

  Should have kept my mouth shut. There was no way to make this better. But that was what you wanted, right? "Uh, well, uh, see. I was still deciding between some guy--you've probably never met him. I mean, yes, he's obviously been here, you hired him, but--"

  "Hired. Adrian--no, I've seen you with him, and there was nothing sexual there. McCadden--no. He's in love with another." He paused, other names probably rolling through his mind. Then he narrowed his eyes, the fire raging brighter, and dug his fingers deeper into her flesh. "Merrick."

  Her eyes widened. How had...? No way he could... Argh!

  "That's not going to happen, Elin. You'll be with me." He lifted her by the waist and forced her to straddle him. "No other."

  She struggled for a moment--and realized she was merely grinding her aching core against his erection. Her body settled, enthralled by the new position...while her heart careened into an uncontrollable beat. A mating rhythm.

  He sucked in a breath. "It's better than I imagined."

  "What is?" she breathed. But she already knew, because she thought so, too.

  "Holding you like this."

  "You imagined this?" He didn't just want her, she realized. He wanted her desperately. It was a heady thought.

  "Many times."

&
nbsp; "Me, too," she admitted softly, the words leaving her of their own accord.

  His hands gripped her harder. "Say yes. Here. Now."

  Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Touch me. Please. But self-preservation proved stronger than primal instinct. "Yes to what, exactly?"

  "To me. To us. I want to be with you, Elin. I want to do things to you. Things you would have never dreamed possible."

  A low moan broke from her throat. I want you to do those things to me, too. "I..." Shivered with anticipation. "I can't," she forced herself to say. Even though I'm willing to beg for it. "I'm sorry."

  His eyes hooded in challenge. "Don't be sorry." He kissed her neck, at the same time pressing his long, hard length more firmly against her core. Despite her claim, she tilted her hips toward him, deepening the contact, making it last longer. "Answer a question for me."

  "Yes." The agreement felt good on her lips.

  "You'll give yourself to another, but not to me?" His palms grazed the tips of her breasts. "Why? To punish me for the Harpy?"

  Goose bumps broke out. "No." Maybe. "I..." Take a time-out. Weigh the pros and cons. "Want to give myself to you. I do." Forget the pros and cons. They had no time to form. Desire burned them away. Burned her.

  He stilled. "What changed your mind?"

  "It's what I've always wanted," she admitted, toying with the ends of his hair. "I'm just not going to fight it anymore."

  Triumph flared in his eyes. He nibbled on her earlobe, and reached down, cupping her between her legs. She gasped as a hot lance of pleasure speared her.

  "You want me, and no one else?"

  "No one else," she croaked. But once again self-preservation raised its head, forcing her to add, "I will go to first base with you so hard. But that's it."

  And then I'll feel so guilty, I won't have to sleep with anyone. Ever.

  Finally. Win/win.

  Thane might have cracked a smile. He might not have. Either way, he was done with chitchat.

  He grabbed her by the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, forcing her lips to meet his. Hard and unyielding, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Tasting, demanding.

  He dominated.

  He mastered.

  He owned.

  When she mewled in rapture--so good--he gentled his hold and softened his thrusts, allowing her to learn him and savor. She melted against him, meeting his tongue with a plunge of her own.

  "Yes," he rasped. "Like that." He sounded amazed.

  She felt amazed. She met his tongue a second time, and it was like throwing gasoline-soaked logs on an already raging fire, the kiss instantly spinning out of control. Urgency overshadowed the desire to savor. They began to bite and lick at each other, his taste intoxicating her--dizzy with need--addicting her to his brand of tender aggression.