Tonight and Forever Magical Romances Boxed Set

by D'Alessandro, Jacquie

  “But don’t you have that every day, living in Mysteria Falls? It’s so rural compared to D.C.”

  He laughed, and the full, rich timbre sent a shiver to places already eager for every morsel of him. “Rural doesn’t necessarily mean mundane, or ordinary. Do I strike you as being those?” His eyes darkened with desire so hot that she couldn’t think past her short-circuiting erogenous zones.

  “No.” She moistened her lips. He watched her every movement. “The cross you wear. Tell me about it.”

  He slipped the thick chain over his neck and handed it to her. “It’s a remarkable piece of medieval craftsmanship, for it’s a weapon as well. Press the release button on the back.”

  She followed his instruction. The cross separated into a deadly jeweled dagger and its sheath. “Wow. Beautiful and deadly.” She handed it back to him.

  “You keep it,” he said, leaning her way and slipping the chain over her head. It fell heavily between her breasts.

  “Oh, no, really I couldn’t.” She clasped the warm cross to take it off and he set his hand over hers.

  “Please, I like to think of you as being armed at all times. And I get more pleasure seeing it between your breasts than around my neck.” His thumb snaked out to caress along the rise of her beast and across her nipple. She shivered, forgetting everything in her mind but the feel of his touch. “Speaking of romance and possibilities,” he said softly, “why don’t we explore some of those in the ballroom? Would you care to dance, Kris?” He held out his hand as he stood.

  She let the cross fall between her breasts and set her hand in his. Her stomach made a flip and her heart pounded as her every sense opened to the tantalizing temptations of having his body close to hers.

  When they reached the ballroom, he didn’t turn on any lights, but swept her into his arms to dance in and out of the moonbeams streaming though the tall glass windows. It wasn’t a waltz and it wasn’t a slow dance. He moved in ways she’d never moved before, but knew by heart. They were in perfect sync, a flowing harmony of hard against soft, powerful against yielding and she gave herself over to him completely.

  The entire day, seeing the opera house from her dreams, meeting JD, meeting Lord Daniels and seeing Anya’s portrait had been confusingly surreal, but in some strange way, not unexpected. It was as if she was meant to be here, and meant to know this man who attracted her more than any man before.

  At first, he held one of her hands pressed to his chest where she could feel the beat of his heart. His other hand rested at the small of her back, encircling her in his embrace. She stared into his eyes, feeling with every passing moment that this man was no stranger to her.

  The more they danced, the closer they drew, as unspoken need eroded all barriers. Her arms slid around his neck and she sifted her fingers through his silken hair. His arms wrapped around her and his hands left a trail of fire as they caressed her back and urged her tighter to the hard heat of his body. Her breasts pressed to his chest so tightly that every movement teased her sensitive nipples. Slowing the dance, he slid a hard thigh between her legs and cupped her bottom, pressing her tight to the firm rise of his erection.

  The slow, rhythmic brush of his body and arousal drove her crazy. She moaned—wanting, needing more.

  “Kris?” he said, his voice no more than a strangled plea.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, lifting her face to his.

  His sigh of pleasured relief was muffled as he claimed her mouth, a full assault from the moment his lips met hers. His tongue delved deep, searching for her soul and she answered his call, reaching for his. He maneuvered until his back hit the wall and he could lean and lift her whole body flush to his. He kissed her deeper, harder, but it wasn’t enough – it would never be enough. She kissed him and writhed for more, succumbing to the firestorm of passion consuming her.

  Breathing as if he’d just run miles, JD broke from the never-ending kiss to swing her into his arms and marched from the ballroom. She didn’t say a word to disturb the sensual spell, but concentrated on kissing and touching every part of him that she could reach, from his sensual mouth to the chiseled edge of his shadowed jaw and the supple heat of his neck. She explored his chest and shoulders, relishing in the power and strength hidden beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. She drank in the intoxicating smell of his spicy musk, and the drugging taste of his essence.

  Tonight this man would be her lover and she had no doubt that he was the man she’d waited her whole life for.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At the top of the stairs, JD carried Krisana into a candlelit bedroom that had obviously been staged for seduction—chilled champagne, fruit tray, soft music. Darkly masculine in rich navy and burgundy tones, the room was both comfortable and luxurious from the large bed, overstuffed furniture, and the low burning fireplace.

  “You must forgive me for this,” he said softly. “I prepared not in assurance that you’d come to my room tonight, but in humble hopes that you would.”

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “I love candlelight,” she said. “There is something very special about its glow, as if the small flames can paint soft beauty everywhere it touches.”

  “I wanted you naked in the candlelight.” He kissed her again, this time easing down the zipper of her dress. The chiffon fell to her feet like a black cloud, leaving her in black lace bra and panties and heels. He stood back, staring at her, his chest expanding as he sucked in air.

  He didn’t have to tell her that he found her beautiful, for his expression and trembling hands said it all as he reached for her.

  She danced back from him. “You next.”

  Smiling, he shed his shirt in a flash. When he reached for his belt buckle, she pushed his hands away and slipped the leather from its holding notch. Yet before she could tackle his button and zipper, she became thoroughly distracted by his sculpted chest. She ran her shaking hands over the pattern of silky hair across his pecs and down his rippling abs where a thin dark line disappeared beneath the waist of his pants. By then he’d fisted his hands and his nostrils flared with the strength of his need for her.

  She licked his nipple and he lost his restraint. He shed his pants and briefs in a flash, and stood before her breathing hard.

  She trembled at the fullness of his erection, which jutted starkly from a triangle of dark curling hair. He was so different from her, so opposite, yet so perfectly matched.

  “I want all of you, Kris, now.” He unclasped her bra in a snap and immediately cupped her breasts and groaned with pleasure. Molding them, he bent down and sucked an aching peak into his mouth, his flicking tongue like a searing flame. She arched her back as pleasure darted from her nipples to her swelling sex—its intensity left her breathless.

  Dropping to his knee, he grasped her panties and slid them down her legs. The moment she stepped free of them, he caught her hips and brought her sex to his mouth, his tongue searching and finding the hardened center of her pleasure. He kissed her hard and fast, sucking her sex until her knees nearly gave out.

  “JD,” she cried out, clutching his shoulders.

  He wrapped an arm around her legs and held her in place. “One more taste,” he said.

  This time, the thorough, intimate assault of his kiss and thrusting tongue rocketed her to heaven. She shuddered hard. He caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her on the cool satin.

  He slipped off her heels and spread her legs wide as he looked down upon her. He touched the heavy cross resting between her breasts then brushed each aching nipple. “You are so beautiful, so wonderfully erotic everywhere.”

  She felt exposed, but the hot need in his awed gaze made her shiver with a greater pleasure. His pleasure.

  She reached for him and he came to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers, arching her breasts to his chest. Her whole body cried out for more of him and his touch. She wanted to know him completely, and he gave freely.

  His hands caress
ed her everywhere. His lips and tongue followed, licking fire over every inch of her body until she gasped and writhed with a need so great that she knew she would burn alive unless he put an end to the torturous pleasure.

  He ripped a condom packet open with his teeth, his whole body trembling as he slid it on before rolling her beneath him. Then, staring into her eyes, he pressed himself slightly inside of her and paused. His mouth parted as if he wanted to say something, wanted to tell her about the emotion that had turned his blue eyes to midnight. Instead, he kissed her and thrust into her, then froze as the evidence of her virginity gave way.

  The strange, yet pleasurable fullness of having every burning hard inch of him buried deep inside of her, shocked and thrilled her. She cried out and wrapped her arms tighter around him.

  “Hell! I’ve hurt you. I didn’t know, didn’t imagine that you were still a virgin.” His breath exploded in a long shudder. He planted his hand on each side of her head and reared back. “Why didn’t you say something? I would have been gentler, done more to—”

  She shook her head. “There wasn’t a need to say anything. You’ve been perfect, so don’t stop now. I’ve waited a very long time for this to happen.” She thrust her hips against his, burying him deeper into her.

  “You’ve no idea, mon âme soeur,” he whispered, shuddering as he moved slowly inside her. He kissed her tenderly and magic seemed to infuse their every touch, every thrust, every kiss, and every look. Their colliding hearts and passion swept her away in a tide of ecstasy so great and so deep that her life, her heart, and her world were redefined forever. From the look in JD’s eyes, he was with her every step of the way, experiencing the same thing with reverent awe.

  “Again,” he whispered urgently as the last wave a pleasure shuddered through her. “I need you again.” He rolled to his back, bringing her on top of him and started the sensual dance all over again, arching up to pulse deeper inside of her. His heated hands brought her nipples to aching peaks before he soothed them with his tongue, then drove her even higher by suckling the hardened points as he rhythmically stroked her burning clitoris. This time the climax convulsing through her sent her hurtling into a white hot abyss of exploding colors and sounds that stole her consciousness as she collapsed in his arms.

  ~~~

  Jameson couldn’t get enough and would ironically die trying, he thought ruefully as he lay next to Kris. The candles had burned to nubs and the fireplace embers were barely visible across the moonlit room. They’d slept for a time until he’d reached for her again and she’d opened to him without hesitation. Now, not more than an hour later, he was hard and needy. He was so turned on to have her in his arms that his mind and body didn’t want anything but to be inside of her.

  Or was it his desperation to have as much of her as possible before she learned everything? Would she leave then? Would she hate him for luring her to him? Could she possibly forgive him?

  Gently covering her lithe yet lush nakedness, he went in search of a cold shower and the strength to face the approaching dawn. He had a promise to keep, and even if she were only his for this one night, he would pay the price.

  Krisana wasn’t Anya, but Anya’s spirit lived within Krisana. After last night, Jameson’s heart and soul knew it completely and he would do anything for them both. Always.

  From the moment he’d first seen Anya in that concentration camp hell, he’d lost all reason and control. Though it was strictly against the rules for a paranormal to expose his gifts to humans, Jameson had picked Anya up in his arms and flew straight up out of the camp to disappear into the clouds. Hundreds of soldiers and prisoners had seen him. He’d taken her to a London hospital and assured that she got the best doctors money could buy before reappearing with his unit back at Bergen-Belsen. He’d expected to face a lot of questions, but nobody said a word. Jameson later learned that Phineas had wiped the memory from the soldiers who had seen Jameson’s flight. And nobody really listened to any of the prisoners’ stories about the flying soldier. They were all very ill. The Paratribunal had reprimanded Jameson for his infraction, but had suspended any punishment in light of the circumstance among horrific times.

  But there was no escaping facing the Paratribunal this morning. He’d given his pledge and it was time to fulfill that promise.

  ~~~

  Krisana awoke slowly. Sunlight and an unbelievable delicious feeling of being thoroughly loved, warmed her being. The words mon âme soeur whispered over and over in her mind. She stretched against the satin sheets, reaching for the man whom she could still feel and smell, but found the bed empty.

  Frowning, she sat up, wondering if she’d imagined it all. But the cross between her breasts, her nakedness, and the remnants of seductive candles, told her that her lover had been real. Then she found a note propped against his pillow.

  Dear Kris,

  Forgive me but I had unavoidable business to attend. Believe me, I’d much rather spend today as I had last night. Think of me, as I am of you.

  Yours, JD

  The note warmed her from the inside out. Wincing at some unaccustomed soreness, she slipped from the bed and spied her suitcase and purse standing in the doorway of a luxurious bath. JD had moved her things from the room Martha had given her to his. It made it convenient for her this morning, but she wasn’t about to move into his room with him.

  Kris quickly showered and dressed. It was Valentine’s Day and her birthday. Two important days that would now be marked by two important events. She had papers to sign to officially give her half of the opera house and she had an opera to sing for a dear old man. She never performed without practicing first, not even for small audiences. A lot to do in a short amount of time.

  Leaving his room with her bags in tow, she headed for her bedroom to look at the opera score Lord Daniels had given her. Reaching her room, she started to get to work, but couldn’t focus on the music. She had to know what JD meant by mon âme soeur. She Googled it on her phone. Soul mate. It was French for soul mate.

  She shivered, secretly thrilled. Yet a part of her mind wondered how he could feel that way in a day?

  What about you? Don’t you feel the same? Within a day, you gave him everything you’d saved for the man you would one day love.

  Did she love him? She shook her head. Not in the traditional sense of the word. That would take time and knowing. She didn’t even know him. But…she did know him on a level that went deeper than facts. She shoved the musings aside and focused on her performance tonight. She hoped JD would return soon. It would help to go to the opera house and do this on stage with him accompanying her on the organ. For now, she went to the ballroom where she’d seen the grand piano.

  She lost herself in Anya’s work. The story told in Come Back to Me grabbed Krisana by the throat and the heart, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew deep inside her that Anya had loved James with a passion that would accept no bounds on Earth, Heaven, or Hell. It was a love so powerful and consuming that it made Krisana’s spirit soar and her heart ache. It made her think of JD making love to her, gazing into her eyes, loving her with deep purpose and passion.

  There was more between them within a day than what any human would consider possible.

  When she returned to her room after hours of practice, she found a hundred roses along with an old fashioned, gossamer and silk dress the color of soft candlelight—a dress not unlike the one Anya wore in her portrait presiding over the ballroom. The accompanying note said:

  This is for tonight. Let’s plan on starting at 9:00 pm. Thank you for humoring an old man and his dreams. JD will go with you to sign the opera house papers late this afternoon.

  Fondly yours, Lord Daniels.

  For a brief instant, Krisana had the urge to run, to go back to her life and pretend. But pretend what? That I’d never come here? That last night never happened?

  “No.” Her lone voice rang in the empty room. No matter what, JD had made last night more than she imagined possible and
she wouldn’t regret it. She’d embrace his toast from last night. To her, and to him, and to interesting possibilities.

  She’d just settled down to read Anya’s diaries when a soft knock at the door revealed Martha with two women pushing carts in tow. They were from Resurrection Spa. Upon seeing Krisana, one of the women oddly exclaimed, “We can make the dead glow. She is already beautiful. By the time we finish, she will be like an angel.” The diaries would have to wait for another day. For the next few hours, Kris was massaged, mudded, steamed, and buffed until she did literally glow. The women even managed to lure her into a restful hour’s sleep. With treatments like that before a performance, a woman would be invincible on the stage.

  There’d been a light tray of cheese and fruit fixed, but Krisana couldn’t eat. The closer the time came for the performance, the more JD was on her mind. Why had he been absent the entire day?

  When Martha told her he was waiting in a limousine downstairs, Krisana practically panicked. Her mouth dried, her palms dampened, her blood rushed, and her heart raced. For a moment, she thought she’d faint.

  Martha reached out and caught her arm. “Are you all right? You should have eaten something.”

  Krisana sucked in air. “I’m fine. I’m always nervous before a performance.” She put on coat.

  Martha smiled. “Well, you look stunning in that dress. I see he gave you his cross.”

  Krisana blushed. “Yes.”

  “That means you’re more special than you can ever know.”

  Krisana grasped the cross. “Where did he get it?”

  “You’ll have to ask him that.” Martha shook her head and muttered something about foolish love as she led the way downstairs. Krisana followed, her insides fluttering with a host of wild butterflies.

  ~~~

  Jameson sat in the back of the limo, emotion and nerves strangling the life out of him. It was done. At dawn he had faced the Paratribunal and had gone through the excruciatingly painful ceremony that stripped away his immortality—the price he paid to have Anya’s spirit reborn.