by Lora Leigh
ropped out of his stomach at her expression. He moved his gaze downward to avoid the accusation and anger on her beautiful face and found that her body told a different story. Her spine was slightly arched, breasts thrust out a little, as if inviting him to look at them, touch them. Even her lips were parted and moist. She wet them again as she glanced at his mouth.
Bloody hell, what a dichotomy. She wanted him, but she was also frightened. No doubt terrified he’d hurt her again.
Never.
“Bella? Come here.”
To his absolute amazement, she came. She walked straight into his arms. He enveloped her in his embrace, and every bit of tension he’d been holding released in a wave of silent exultation and relief. He’d waited so long for this, had imagined it so often.
It was better—much better—in reality.
For a moment, he held her close and nuzzled the top of her hair, breathing in the scent of her and letting it intoxicate him. He found a bit of bare skin and stroked it slowly, savoring the silkiness of her body and wanting more, so much more. She shuddered against him and he pulled her backward toward the bed.
With a sigh that heated his blood, she allowed it. He pushed her down onto the mattress and rolled her beneath his body, his mind and heart a riot of fantasies fulfilled. Her hair spread out around her head and she looked . . . ambushed. Ambushed and beautiful and willing. Her eyes were a bit wide and her lips parted.
Gods, he was going to have to hold himself back. All he wanted was to devour her, but he had to take this slow. What he wanted most was to give her pleasure right now, to taste her and feel her explode in orgasm against his lips and tongue. He wanted to slide deep within her and feel all her hot silk close around him, ripple and pulse as he drove them both to climax. He wanted to brand her as his and mark himself indelibly in her mind and heart.
“Ronan, I don’t know about this.” She stared at his mouth.
“I do. I want you, want more of you.” He lowered his lips and rubbed them over her mouth slowly, making her shiver beneath him. “Give me more, Bell.”
She melted against him, her fingers curling around the curve of his shoulders. He dropped his hand to the button of her jeans and undid it, then the zipper. They’d never made love before. It was difficult for fae women to conceive, but he’d been too afraid they’d manage to beat the odds and make a baby. Now Ronan wanted a baby with her more than anything, and maybe if his plan succeeded, they could work on that.
He’d work on that every single day if she’d let him.
He eased her jeans off, along with the black silk thong that made his cock hard from only a glimpse. Then she was bare and beautiful under his gaze, to his touch. He lowered his mouth to the smooth skin of her abdomen and heard her breath shudder out of her. He ran his lips down over the silky swell of her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button, and then went lower. She tasted better than the finest wine, and he couldn’t get enough.
Placing his palms flat against her inner thighs, he opened her for his mouth. He skimmed his lips along her skin and sank his teeth lightly into the tender place where her thigh met her hip. Bella shuddered beneath him and made a sweet, low moan that heated his blood and made his cock go hard as steel.
“I can’t wait to taste more of you,” he murmured, blowing lightly over her beautiful sex until she squirmed beneath him. He moved up her body so he could look into her eyes. “You’re gorgeous, Bella, and so aroused. You want me to do this, don’t you?”
“I need you to do this.” She raked her teeth against her bottom lip. “I don’t care if this is a mistake,” she breathed against his mouth. “I need you inside me, Ronan. I don’t care if the world ends right now, that’s all I want.”
Ronan plunged his hands into her hair and forced her mouth to his as she pushed his jeans down past the head of his jutting cock and her fingers closed around the length. He groaned against her lips. All he wanted was to sink into her velvet softness, to lose himself inside her and become one with her.
But a sound that didn’t belong had entered his awareness.
The hair on the back of Ronan’s neck rose and magick in the center of his stomach twinged. He stilled and she followed suit.
“What’s wrong?”
“The world ending?” he whispered. “You just might be prophetic. Get dressed, Bella.”
He moved away, cursing under his breath, pulling his jeans up and reaching for his discarded sweater. Bella quickly reassembled her clothing too—a true pity.
Sounds of tromping boots and masculine shouts filtered in from the corridor beyond their hotel room door. The Imperial Guard had found them.
“Ronan—” The rest of her sentence arrested in her throat, she looked at him with wide eyes.
He shrugged loosely. “So much for my spell. I told you there are magickal countermeasures for countermeasures.”
It was also possible the witch had turned them in on purpose. The old ones loved a little chaos to ease the boredom of their lives. That’s why they were hard to trust, even when you paid them well, which Ronan had a history of doing. Most of the fae weren’t inherently trustworthy. Anyone who’d read Grimm knew that.
He held out a hand to Bella. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”
The guards pounded mantled fists on the door. Ronan led Bella to the window. He unlocked it and eased it up, letting in cold morning air to freeze their skin. He helped her out onto the fire escape. There was no time even to grab their coats.
He scanned the alley below them, but it was clear that was not the best way to go. “This way.” He pulled her toward the sky.
“Up there? We’ll be trapped on top of the building.” She pulled back.
“I’m asking you to trust me, Bella. Do you?”
She took his hand.
They climbed. Behind them the door splintered open, kicked in from the boots of the guards.
They climbed faster.
The frozen metal of the railing seared his hand like fire and the clang, clang, clang of their shoes on the stairs sounded extra loud in the new snow of early morning. They reached the end and he helped her up onto the rooftop, just as the first shouts of the guards below them began to echo down the alley. They hadn’t yet figured out that their quarry had gone up instead of down, which bought them a bit of time, but not much.
As he pulled her across the top of the narrow roof, they passed a gargoyle hanging on the lip of the building that stared at them with a wise and bemused look on his old, pinched face.
Ronan said the words that would get them back to Priss’s, but no pocket appeared, just more cold, snowy rooftop. So Priss had canceled his quick escape and had been up to no good. The next time he saw her, he’d let her know how unhappy he was. Right now he had other concerns.
The buildings in downtown Piefferburg were old, built mostly in the 1600s and 1700s and restored and renovated over the centuries. That meant they’d been built very close together, since back then there’d been no automobiles. Still, they were far enough apart that they’d have to use magick to jump rooftop to rooftop, until he ran out of juice. Once they were far enough—or he tired too much to safely get them across—they’d descend.
Muttering in Old Maejian, he wove the spell they needed to bridge the buildings and hurried across. He aimed them in the direction they needed to go—toward the Boundary Lands.
He watched her float across the last gap between the roofs. The chill had painted her cheeks rosy, made her dark eyes sparkle. A smile had overtaken her features, bright and beautiful. Despite the cold temperatures and the danger they were in, being away from the confines of the Rose Tower suited her. The pinched, severe expression she normally wore was gone.
If Ronan had his way, it would be gone forever.
He’d made a mistake thirty years ago, one that had affected them both in a negative way. He had every intention now of making it right. Fixing that wrong. He wanted Bella more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. She
was his anchor, his hope, his love.
She was his and there was no one who could take her away from him. Not again. Not ever.
She came to a stop in front of him, her eyes still lighted and her smile still beaming. The light faltered a little as she saw the expression on his face and in his eyes. He knew how he looked. Hungry. Determined. She tried to step back, but he caught her arms and dragged her up against him, his mouth coming down against hers hot and possessively.
She didn’t pull away. Making a little sound in the back of her throat, she pressed into him further. His cock noticed it. Every part of his body did. His heart really noticed it.
“Bell,” he breathed out, breaking the kiss. He pressed her forehead to his chin and let out a long, slow breath. “We’ve wasted so much time on fear.”
“Maybe too much.”
He didn’t like the tone of her voice, or the tremble in it.
In the distance, the commander of the Guard yelled.
“We have to get down. I don’t have much power left.” His magick wasn’t limitless.
They left the last step of a nearby fire escape and their shoes sank into the ever-thickening layer of snow in an alley. Hearing the sounds of the Imperial Guard fanning out to search the area, he pulled her down the narrow alley and around the corner of a building, only to glimpse a force of Imperial Guards coming around the side of the same building, right for them.
They ducked back around and pressed up against the brick wall of the building behind them, both panting. The snow was coming down so heavily that it was covering their footprints. That was a stroke of luck.
“There!” Bella pointed at a vehicle some ways down the road. “If we can make it to that truck, we can hide beneath it.”
With his magick almost drained to the dregs, it was their only chance.
They reached the rusty old red truck and got beneath it from the side least likely to reveal marks in the snow. He pulled her beneath him, rolling her under the warm protection of his body. Their breathing was heavy with exertion and showing white against the cold air. He hoped the queen hadn’t become desperate and employed the Unseelie Court’s magickical bloodhounds. If she had, they were doomed.
The boots of the Imperial Guard tromped past them in two lines and Ronan stared down into Bella’s large brown eyes. They were beautiful eyes, flecked with caramel and amber. Her lips were parted and her breathing still came fast, probably more from fear than physical exertion.
As the boots stomped past them, he dropped his head and kissed her. She tasted even better when she was afraid and clinging to him. She was a strong woman and able to take care of herself, yet he liked it when she thought she needed him. He couldn’t help that caveman part of himself.
After all, he needed her.
Finally the sounds of the boots disappeared into the distance and he reluctantly broke the kiss. He didn’t let her go, though. This was a totally inappropriate situation for arousal, yet his body was primed for her, aching for the feel of her.
“Ronan, this isn’t the time.” But Ronan suspected her words lacked the rebuke she’d meant them to hold. Her facial muscles were slack and her lips rosy and swollen from his mouth. She looked warm, but he knew she had to be freezing.
He murmured one of the many spells he had memorized and wrapped magick around her body to keep the chill away. He didn’t have enough power to cloak both of them, but at least she would be comfortable . . . for a while.
They needed to get to their destination and soon. Luckily they weren’t far from the Boundary Lands and the place he’d hidden the object of power that the Phaendir wanted so badly. He rolled off her and helped her from beneath the truck.
Bella brushed the snow from her clothes. “Thanks for the magick, but you know it doesn’t mean anything.” A muscle worked in her jaw. “Neither have the kisses.”
He pretended it wasn’t like a stake through the heart. “That’s okay, Bell. I fully expect you to push me away. Turnabout is fair play.”
“Hey.” Her spine snapped straight and she turned to pierce him with her gaze. “Don’t act like you and me are a foregone conclusion and I’m just playing at making you pay right now.”
He contemplated her for a long moment. “I would never take anything for granted with you. But even you can’t deny the powerful pull between us.” He paused. “Can you?”
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes going dark and her expression unreadable. Bella opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and then turned and walked away.
EIGHT
The Boundary Lands were everything Bella had imagined them to be. Covering their skeletons like hair and flesh, trees and plants wound their way through the bones of old structures built on the remnants of the very first settlement of Piefferburg. Crumbling walls and rotting wood combined with verdant lushness to create a place of more beauty than Bella thought her heart could hold.
Even in the dead of winter here, fae magick kept the plants from dying. Snow glistened on the furled heads of roses and drifted slowly to rest on wide green leaves. Yuletide was celebrated here by the wildling fae, and lights nestled here and there on trees, their limbs intertwined with red and green bulbs and sparkling ornaments.
After losing the guards, they’d walked to the edge of the city, steering clear of every person they encountered, and had found the boundary where all the wildling fae lived. Letting the foliage envelop them, they’d entered, and been unable to avoid a few of the inhabitants, but Bella felt like here it didn’t matter. This part of Piefferburg was different from the rest, set apart like a different world, and worked under its own set of laws. She was confident—for whatever illogical reason—that these fae wouldn’t turn them in to the Summer Queen.
He led her through a copse of birch trees, their shoes crunching over ice-laced fallen leaves. “We’re almost there.”
“You’re not going to pull me through a pocket again, are you?”
He shook his head. “Priss is the only one capable of creating those.”
He took her hand and guided her through a space between two monstrously tall birch trees. Beyond them lay a clearing with a large, aging brick structure.
Heavy lavender blooms dripped from the crumbling overhang of the building, tangled with long vines of red trumpeted flowers. She stared at the strange beauty of it—the juxtaposition of the vibrantly alive things and the dying building. By all rights the flowers shouldn’t be growing, not at Yuletide, but who knew how much magick the fae caring for them possessed?
Much of the magick of the Seelie Court nobles had been bred out, choked from eons of breeding within a small population to keep the Tuatha Dé bloodlines true. But the magick of some of the other fae, most especially the wildling fae in the Boundary Lands, raged savage and strong.
Snow began to fall, making her gasp. She turned her face up to it, letting the flakes drift onto her face, melt, and slip down her neck. For the first time in so long, sweet Danu, she felt alive. Out here, she felt freed from the confines of the court, the queen, and her bloodline.
A warm hand pulled her up against a solid chest. Ronan’s lips found hers and pressed. She opened her eyes and dissolved against him. For the first time since that fateful Yuletide ball, she just . . . allowed. Cool melted snowflakes mixed with his hot tongue as it brushed hers. He pushed her against the crumbling stone wall. Fragrant blossoms that had no business growing in the dead of winter crushed beneath their weight, releasing sweet scent to the chilly air.
“I love you, Bella,” he whispered roughly against her lips in between kisses. “I never stopped.”
Ronan slanted his mouth more firmly across her lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth as if to consume her. Something Bella had been holding clenched tightly in the center of her chest unraveled and released. Her muscles went loose as she threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Sweet pleasure suffused her, driving the chill from her bones and filling them with slow, warm honey.
He pulled her lower lip between his teeth, rasping it gently with his teeth, and her sex pulsed. Her fingers found the material of his coat and fisted. If he pushed her into this building right now and began to draw off her clothes, she would let him. She would . . .
“Hello.”
She jerked in surprise at the feminine voice and pulled away from Ronan enough to look in the direction from which it came. Not far away a woman dressed in long, white, gauzy gown stood half-hidden behind the trunk of a tree.
Bella blinked. “Hello.”
Ronan took a step backward. “Bella, please meet Aurora. She’s a lady of the birch.”
Bella had heard of them. The ladies of the birch had their roots in Czechoslovakia. They were primarily light nature-based fae, females who helped guide human females toward their dreams. There weren’t many of them left. They’d largely been wiped out by the sickness. The wildings had been particularly susceptible for some reason, and owing to fae infertility they hadn’t regained much strength in numbers. Only the goblins had done that.
The woman stepped toward them, a smile on her full lips. Her long reddish blond hair curled riotously past her thin shoulders, twisted through with small twigs, the leaves still attached. Oddly, it suited her. Her wide midnight blue eyes shone from a heart-shaped face, clear of any trace of makeup. She wore little to clothe her slim body, but she didn’t seem cold. Her feet were bare and dirt smudged her dewy, luminous tanned skin here and there like she’d been gardening.
She was lovely. Prettier than the Summer Queen. More beautiful than any Seelie woman Bella had ever seen. And from the way she was smiling at Ronan, she knew him well.
Bella’s limbs had been like warmed butter a moment ago, but now they’d gone wooden. This little twinge of jealousy was a stupid thing to feel. He’d been free to do as he wished, as she’d been free too. They’d both had lovers since their parting so many years ago. She had no claim on his romantic entanglements of the previous years.
The woman smiled and all Bella’s ill feelings washed away in a moment. This person was like a part of nature herself, a wild and beautiful thing—like a refreshing rainstorm on a hot summer day or a gentle deer stepping out of the woods unexpectedly right before you. It was impossible to feel anything but joy in her presence. “I’ve never been with Ronan in the way you’re thinking,” she said warmly. “We’re only friends.”
Bella sucked in a breath. “Are you telepathic?”
“No. The question was in your expression.”
She turned her face away.
“It’s all right, Bella,” Aurora said. “I understand the history you have with Ronan. I’ve known him for many years now, and the only woman he’s ever wanted was you.”
Bella looked at Ronan for confirmation of her words. He said nothing, only stared at her, his expression serious and his eyes wide and dark and very, very warm. His gaze did interesting things to her body and made her chest fill with something light. Hope?
“I still have what you gave me to keep,” Aurora said, drawing them both from the way they’d fallen into each other’s gaze.
He shifted to look at the birch lady. “Good. I never thought I’d come back for it.”
“And yet here you are. Don’t worry, it’s safe.”
“I thought we’d stay for a little while before heading back to the Summer Court.”
“Stay as long as you’d like. You’re safe here.” She ducked into the structure. “Your object is this way.”
Bella tried not to gawk as they followed her in. The front of the structure was crumbling brick, but that was only a fa çade. So much in the world of the fae was not as it seemed. The ceiling was made of glass, showing the towering birch trees above that dripped with leaves, flowering vines, snow, and ice. A fire burned in a corner fireplace and comfortable overstuffed furniture abounded in the room, all draped with cozy-looking throws. A four-poster bed dominated one corner, and a tiny kitchen occupied the opposite corner. It was a small house, but it was clearly a home, very comfortable. Bella had the impression she could live here forever and be content.
“Stay here a moment,” said Aurora. She exited the back of the cottage and returned with an item wrapped in cheesecloth. She gave it to Ronan.
“Thank you for keeping it.”
Aurora inclined her head and smiled. “Stay here in this cottage for as long as you’d like. We’ll be watching out for you, so don’t fear the guard.” She looked at Bella meaningfully. “Relax, if only for a little while. You’ve had a long journey and it’s far from over. You both have many more miles to go before you find peace.” Then she left.
Why did she think that Aurora wasn’t talking about physical distance, but emotional? There was a dark edge to her words that Bella didn’t like. They almost felt prophetic.
“Can we trust her?”
“I would trust Aurora with my life.” He paused. “I would trust her with your life, Bella, and that’s the most precious thing in the world to me.”
Ronan held her gaze, and the moment between them stretched. The look in his eyes could have kept her warm forever. Breaking the magic of it, she cleared her throat and stepped forward, toward the object. “What is it?”
He set it down on the table near the bed. “Never mind that. There’s only one important thing right now.” He closed the distance between them and pulled her against him, letting his hot mouth close over hers. His lips slid across her lips like silk, tasting her gently until it seemed he had to have more. Then he parted her lips and slid his tongue within.
Shivers of pleasure enveloped her. Three decades’ worth of wanting welled up, and this time she didn’t suppress it. Relax. She let it wash over her, sweeter than anything she could imagine. Surrendering to her desires, she twined her arms around his shoulders, feeling the strong bunch and flex of his muscles as he made minute movements, and made her want to run her hands—her tongue—over his warm bare skin.
He walked her back until her calves hit the edge of the bed, then dropped his hands to the button and zipper of her jeans. He worked them over her hips and down her legs, taking off her boots and socks with them and leaving her in only her thong.
NINE
She pulled his sweater up, revealing his sculpted washboard abs. She dusted her lips across them, tasting his skin with the tip of her tongue and feeling his muscles tremble as she pushed his sweater up and over his head. The touch of her hands on him made him shiver, made him groan. It felt powerful to have that kind of an impact on a strong man like him.
She ran her palms over his chest, hardly able to believe she was here—in a place she’d never thought she’d be—with a man she’d long ago stopped hoping for. This moment had played out in her fantasies, but she’d always assumed that’s what they’d stay—fantasies.
He pulled her shirt over her head and looked down at her wearing two silky bits of almost nothing, then he made a hungry sound deep in his throat and pushed her back onto the bed. For a moment he stood over her, making her shiver as his gaze swept her. He looked like he intended to devour her from head to toe.
Kicking his boots off,