by Lora Leigh
He was waiting on her. Slouched on the couch, bare feet propped on the low coffee table as he watched the news on the flat-screened television mounted to the opposite wall.
He turned his head slowly, his body tensing before his eyes ever met hers. Instantly, they darkened, heat flaring in the dark centers as she stood hesitantly at the entrance to the room.
“I’m not going to rape you.” Irritation reflected in his voice when he shifted as though to get up, causing her to back away a step.
It wasn’t that she was frightened; to the contrary, she was too drawn to him. Too aware of him for her own good.
“Good thing,” she responded archly. “Because I’m not in the mood to be raped.”
He arched a brow in sudden humor, planted his feet on the floor and rose from the couch until she was forced to look up at him.
“Come on, little bit, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Little bit?
“What did you do with my sword?” She wasn’t about to make another move without the weapon that had saved her life earlier that night. And she wasn’t about to accept any of his rumbling innuendoes either.
He flashed her a half-drowsy, sex-laden look instead.
“It’s under your bed. You can check it out after we eat.”
He moved to the table and her eyes widened.
“The others are joining us?” She really wasn’t in the mood for more strangers.
Casting her a surprised look he sat down. “Do you see them here? Get over here and eat, woman. I’m half-starved. I need fuel.”
There was a large box of chicken, two potato and gravy sides as well as several other assorted accompaniments. He opened the box, then the large cups and began piling the Styrofoam plate he had before him high. At his elbow, a jug of iced tea waited with two empty cups.
“Sit down and eat. Then we’ll talk.” There was no amusement in his voice now when he looked up at her. His eyes were a dark, stormy gray without the sense of laughter that had filled them before.
“Do you get your way like that often?” she asked, though she took her seat and selected her food in much smaller quantities than he had.
“Like what?” he growled.
“Like your word is law and I better follow it implicitly?” She gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t obey so well, Mr. Steele.”
A shadow seemed to cross his expression and for a moment, bleak memory filled the unusual depths of his eyes.
“Eat,” he said again, the sound of weary male patience grating on her temper. “We’ll discuss your shortcomings later as well. We both need a full stomach and a clear head for that though.”
So that was how it was going to be? Ariel hid her smile and did as she was bade, for the moment. She ate. But only because she was hungry…
Chapter Five
A thousand years. He had waited a thousand years to hold her, to touch her, to feel the rebirth of his soul at the sound of her voice. God knew he had lived for this day, had prayed for it for so long that at times he thought his soul would shatter from the need. And now that she was here…he swallowed tightly…how was he to find the control to woo her rather than to take her?
His cock was harder than he could ever remember it being. It throbbed beneath his jeans, ached at the confinement and the need to press into the tighter, hotter confines of Ariel’s sweet pussy. His eyelids lowered, his chest heaving as he dragged in a deep breath.
She was the same as before, yet different. The sensuality she had kept so carefully hidden in her first life was just below the surface now. Jonar hadn’t had a chance to rape or humiliate her. Jonar hadn’t stolen the innocence that would always be so much a part of her now. That deep core of sensual femininity that would burn him alive once he tapped into the need that glittered in her brilliant, dark amethyst eyes.
Shanar swallowed tightly. Waiting was a bitch. Could he wait? Could he refrain from touching her, tasting her?
Even now, she was like a wildfire to his system. Time had not dimmed the hunger that surged inside him for her. Only her death had eased the physical need, though the soul had ached more harshly than ever.
For years he had known she was out there. Even during her childhood years after she had first called out to him, he hadn’t known this overpowering need. But it had erupted inside him in the middle of that damned storm. The moment his lips touched hers, surrounded by death and danger, he had been unable to stop himself. And now, long minutes after their meal had finished, it only rose.
If only he could have located her then. If only he could have found her when her fears had been strong enough that the winds had first brought her whispers of need to him. He would have found her, brought her to safety, if he could have convinced her to speak to him once again. Yet the connection had never returned.
Midnight had long passed and he knew dawn wasn’t far away. There would be few enough hours to sleep before they attempted to put more distance between them and Jonar’s dark minions. So much to do and yet he knew there weren’t enough hours to do it in.
“So, you were going to tell me just who the hell you are,” she announced with studied interest as she began to place the empty cups within the chicken box and the plates in the bottom of the bag that sat on the floor.
She had eaten well. He was glad to see that she hadn’t adopted this century’s habit of making their women eat only dainty portions. She was tall for a woman, with a light padding of muscle that he could tell was adequately honed. She wasn’t a lazy woman, but her life would now demand more from her than it ever had.
“I told you who I was.” He restrained his smile, knew he was doing little more than firing her irritation higher.
He had always loved pushing her to anger. To see her violet eyes snapping with ire, her face flushed with emotion. It was only then Ariel had loosened a bit of the self-control that she imposed on herself. It was only then that he had been able to loosen the reins on his own control.
“You’re going to piss me off.” She placed the bag of debris in the trash can next to the table before using a clean napkin to wipe the small crumbs from the table. “Now isn’t a good time to do that. Now tell me what the hell is going on and what you and your buddies were doing in the foothills earlier.”
She looked at him directly, and yes, there were the snapping sparks of anger he had so longed to see in her eyes.
Beloved. His mind whispered the word as he watched her. Beloved by his heart, and by his soul.
“We were there to find you,” he finally answered as her gaze narrowed on him. “Alyx contacted us and informed us that you had fired your remaining security force. We came as fast as we could after that.”
Her lips thinned.
“What business was it of yours?” She stood watching him, one hip thrown out aggressively as she watched him with her elfin features.
He realized then that he did not like her shorter hair. It was too short, and rather than framing her face and shoulders as it had after he rescued her from Jonar, it was now a sleek little cap that barely fell below her neck.
“It was much my business,” he grunted, staying in his chair and slouching back in it lazily as he laced his fingers against his abdomen. “Your survival is of vital importance to me, Ariel. As I said before, I’m not into a dead fuck. I need you alive for what I intend.”
Crimson heat washed over her face as her eyes widened ever so slightly.
“A little overconfident aren’t you?” she questioned him softly, mockery lacing her tone.
He shrugged lightly. “I don’t know about that, love. The wind doesn’t just whisper to you and bring to you the scents and sounds you need…” He ignored the sudden shock on her face. “But now, it will aid me as well. And I smell your heat like the lightest brush of spring. So I really don’t believe overconfidence will be an issue.”
She backed away from him slowly.
“You’re crazy.” A strained smile shaped her lips. “I don’t know what you’re t
alking about.”
“I’m not your father, Ariel,” he said gently, remembering Alyx’s report of Markham St. James’ attempts to have his only child committed to an asylum. “I’ve no desire to see you locked away for the gifts you curse. I would see you accept them, embrace them as well as your destiny. There’s nothing or no one for you to fear here.”
Her petite little nose flared as her chin lifted in challenge. Yes, by God, challenge me, woman, he thought in satisfaction. Let your blood run hot enough to burn us both alive.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was mocking, harsh. But he heard the undertones of fear beneath it.
“Yes, you do. You would just prefer not to admit to it.” He finally rose to his feet, watching as she backed away, staring up at him in surprise.
He remembered that about her. How she always seemed surprised by his height when he stood before her.
Shane moved to the single, king-sized bed and jerked the blankets down, preparing it for their rest. She would, of course, refuse at first. His blood thundered with the anticipation of convincing her to sleep against his warmth.
“Do you think you can just kidnap me from my home and make such outrageous statements?” she asked him coolly, quickly dragging a cloak of control around her fragile shoulders. “That I’ll just accept it and agree with you? Sorry, you should have done your homework better or you would know that is not going to happen. As you said, you aren’t my father, and he’s been trying a hell of a lot longer than you have.”
His brows snapped into a frown at the thought of the bastard who had raised her.
“I merely mentioned your father to reassure you that not all of us would have you hide from your birthright,” he growled. “I have a date of retribution with that fine gentleman,” he sneered the title. “When your battles are done here. Until then, we shall concentrate on you.”
She was so small next to him. Of course, most women were, but he knew this woman, knew her strengths and her fears. It made him protective, made him want to go to his knees to assure her that he would never see her harmed again. But it wasn’t his gentleness and his love that she needed at this moment. She would have to be forced into the power she hid from, and it would fall to him to lead her into that which she most feared.
He wouldn’t risk losing her in this life. As much as he abhorred forcing Ariel to do anything, he knew he wouldn’t be able to merely sit back and hope she would reach into herself for the power she needed. This battle against Jonar would not be an easy one; she would need his strength, more than his protection, when all he wanted to do was protect her.
An incredulous laugh broke from her lips. She was staring at him as though he were an abomination rather than the man sworn to her soul. But the breeze whispered around her, he could feel it, hear its soothing murmur as he watched it brush at the strands of her hair. The wind, the very air itself would reassure her as he never could.
“Do you think I’m going to stay here and listen to these outlandish accusations?” She gripped the edges of the robe together with hands that were turning white from the strength she was exerting. “I can get this at my father’s house. I don’t have to stay here for it.”
“Ah, but Jonar can take you easily from your father’s residence, as you’ve learned. But trust me, Ariel; he will never get past me,” he assured her, his voice lowering as he fought to restrain his fury.
He remembered well how he had found her in those dungeons more than a month before, nearly broken, barely clinging to life. He would not allow it to happen again.
“What do you want from me?” she whispered then, and his heart broke at the fear he heard in her tremulous words.
Shane sat down on the bed, knowing that she would find greater comfort in relief from the strength he exuded towering over her. He noticed the slight lessening of the tension in her shoulders as he did so, and something in his soul shattered for her. She should not know such fear, such a deep, encompassing wariness at a male’s strength, his strength.
“Everything,” he told her firmly. “I want everything, Ariel. And I will have it. Perhaps not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow night, but it will be mine. As will you be.”
The color drained from her face. Watching that telling reaction had the muscles of his stomach clenching in pain that he had caused the response. She backed up once again as though placing herself closer to the door and freedom. Shane merely watched her, allowing her to see by his expression that he knew what she was doing and that he was prepared to stop her.
“I won’t accept this.” She swallowed tightly and he hated the resignation he saw in her gaze. “I won’t accept you.”
“I will grow on you.” He smiled back at her, hoping to ease some of the tension from her face. “You will see Ariel; it will be very, very hard to resist me.”
Something in her gaze heated, flared, but all he could smell on the light shift of air flowing from her to him, was anger and suspicion. She trusted no one, and he didn’t blame her. She had been betrayed since childhood, left alone in the dark and taught that monsters truly do exist—they exist in the form of those who should love, protect and care for you, in the form of friends and the monsters that hungered for her blood in the darkness of the night.
“I’ve resisted better men,” she sneered and his interest flared.
Ah yes, now the fight was on. She would challenge him every step of the way, although she would never be able to hold herself aloof from him. She wouldn’t run now. She would wait and see what protection he could offer her against Jonar and think to use his strength while maintaining the ice that encased her heart. He would show her differently.
This time, when he rose to his feet, he did nothing to hide the sheer power that he knew resonated from him. He was strength. Power. In its most ultimate form. His flesh was like living steel, his bones unbreakable. He was indestructible and he did nothing to camouflage it from her too perceptive senses.
Her nostrils flared as though drawing in a new, intriguing scent, and he was certain that she was unaware that her head tipped just slightly to the left to allow the whisper of air across her sensitive ears.
What did she hear? he wondered. What secret was her element whispering to her?
He walked to her slowly, watching her tense, prepare herself for attack. But it wasn’t a full-frontal assault that he had planned. Nay, he had waited too long, hungered too hard for this time, he wouldn’t frighten her now that she was here.
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he came slowly beside her before finally releasing her eyes to cross behind her. There, he stopped, just close enough to feel the tension humming from her body, to allow her to feel his heat.
“There is no better man than I, Mistress of the Wind,” he whispered at her ear, as soft as the air around them, but less subtle in his message. “Not for you in any case. And I will have you, soon, begging beneath me, your sharp little nails gripping my flesh, your thighs opening for me as I come to you. And you will be slick and hot, your juices like warm honey, your sweet nectar calling to me. Yes, love, you will be mine. Just as you always were…”
Chapter Six
Satisfaction threaded through Ariel when she jabbed her elbow furiously into the hard-packed, muscled abdomen behind her and felt the soft whoosh of breath at her ear. A tight smile crossed her lips as she moved away from him, putting distance between them as she fought to maintain her composure. Did he have any idea how hot it made her to hear him whispering those words so silkily in her ear? His voice was rough, a rumble of sexuality that had the fine hairs along her arms lifting in awareness.
When she turned back to him, he was watching her with a grin, his large palm rubbing at his stomach slowly.
“Excellent reflexes,” he complimented, appearing more proud of her than put out.
She snorted at that.
“Imbecile,” she muttered as she plopped down on the couch. “Shouldn’t you be going to sleep or something rather than harassing me?”<
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He lifted his brow archly as he glanced into the bedroom portion of the suite.
“When you go.” He lifted his shoulder negligently as he leaned against the doorway. “It is pretty late, you know. I think we should turn in.”
She narrowed her eyes on him.
“I don’t think so!” she snapped. “If you think I’m sleeping with you, then you’re…”
“Right.” Something about the change in his voice had her pausing, watching him carefully.
She could see the ready tension enveloping him now, his determination that she would sleep with him.
“No.” She kept her voice mild, but firm, a patient sound as though speaking to a recalcitrant child.
“I won’t argue with you,” he assured her. “You will sleep in this bed, beside me. Period.”
“No.” She repeated the word as though he hadn’t heard her.
She watched his eyes lighten then darken. The gray patterns of color began to shift and move within the pupil as she watched in fascination. Amazing. She had never seen eyes react to emotion in such a way.
“Ariel, do not try my patience in this matter,” he warned her then, his voice gravelly, guttural. “It’s not up for discussion.”
“Then it better get up for discussion.” She shrugged in unconcern. “Because I’m not sleeping in that bed with you.”
Beloved… She ignored the whisper at her ear.
Keeper of the wind… Mistress of my heart… Only years of control kept her from flinching as the words caressed her senses as surely as the soft shift of air about her ear caressed her flesh. Because as much as she hated it, as much as she wanted to deny it, the voice sounded too much of the man now facing her so determinedly.
“Do you enjoy being difficult?” he finally asked her curiously as she leaned back against the couch.
“Actually, I do.” She crossed her legs and smoothed the robe over her knees automatically. “Do you enjoy being an arrogant ass?”