Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

by Christine Feehan

  She had learned a few things about Ilya from their brief encounters, and he rarely wasted words. He wouldn't warn her again. The perverse part of her wanted to see him out of control and reap the benefits of it, but the intelligent think-of-the-consequences part of her held her in check. She dropped her hand and rubbed her palm on her thigh in a reflex action, hoping to soothe the burning.

  "I'm not ready," she admitted. "You scare me."

  "I'm always going to scare you. That isn't the issue."

  She shook her head. "I have more than one."

  "I know. It won't be so bad, belonging to me. You'll always be safe."

  "Will I?" She doubted it. "It's been my experience that extreme macho men are usually jealous, possessive, tend to hit women and cheat on them."

  "I've discovered I can be jealous, and there's no doubt that what belongs to me stays with me, but men who hit women and cheat have no honor, no code. They aren't men, and you should know the difference."

  The low, caressing note in his voice wrapped around her like a velvet blanket. He would take her apart, and when he put her back together, the most important pieces of who she was wouldn't be hers anymore. Ilya would own her.

  "What about bossy?" He would rule her life. He was dominating, and there would be no denying that; she'd touched his mind. He would want to rule every aspect of her life, and Joley guarded her independence fiercely.

  "You have to trust me with you, Joley. You don't trust anyone, you never have."

  "That's not true. I trust my family."

  He shook his head. "You don't trust them to see inside you and love you anyway. You guard yourself from them because you don't think they would understand your needs or what drives you."

  Horror blossomed, and she pressed her hand to her suddenly churning stomach. He had been in her mind. She hadn't kept him out the way she thought she had, and Ilya was a ruthless man. He would be relentless in his pursuit of her, and now, having been in her mind, discovering her darkest secrets, he would use them against her. He had psychic gifts, and she could never forget, not for one moment, that he could use them against her.

  She nearly groaned aloud. She could see his melody. She could see his aura. Could he see hers? The darkness in her? Not just shadows, but actual darkness?

  "Joley." He said her name in a low caress. "There's no reason to be so afraid of me. I really did come here to help you get some sleep."

  "How?" Because she couldn't imagine closing her eyes when he was in her bus. It was intimate—and it would make her far too vulnerable.

  "There's always hypnotism."

  She knew that utter distaste showed on her face. He laughed, and immediately her complete attention was riveted on him. The sound was husky, sexy, so low and brief it was more of an impression than reality, but all the more captivating because of that. He turned her inside out, and if he kept it up, she would melt into a puddle at his feet.

  "Somehow I was fairly certain you wouldn't like that idea. We'll go back to the very simple way. You're going to lie down and close your eyes and I'm going to guard you, watch over you so you can rest."

  "I'm afraid of you. And I don't trust anyone enough to sleep in front of them."

  "I'm giving you my word nothing will happen, and my word is gold all over the world."

  Joley took a breath. She was tired, but she couldn't imagine really falling asleep with Ilya in the close confines of her bus. "I don't know…"

  He tapped the table beside him. "Just try for me, Joley. I'm not asking you to give yourself to me."

  "In a way you are. You're asking me to trust you."

  "Just to keep you safe. It is my job after all."

  Chapter 5

  ILYA stood up, his gaze dropping to the small end table as he pushed himself up. He picked up the photograph. "Who is this?"

  Joley braced herself against the sway of the bus as she stood up to view the photograph. Lights from oncoming cars flashed through the interior and illuminated Ilya's profile. His face could have been carved in stone. She tried not to fixate on his all too mesmerizing mouth by examining his eyes. He had long lashes. She'd never noticed that before, when she thought she'd noticed everything about him. She took the photo from his hand and studied the young face as if that could give her a clue to the girl's whereabouts.

  "She's missing. She went missing at the New York concert. Not the concert, but the party—Nikitin's party. I saw her there."

  Ilya shifted, drawing her immediate attention. It wasn't a movement so much as the rippling of his muscles, the sudden focus of a predatory animal watching her with cunning intelligence. His expression didn't change, he looked exactly the same, but he was entirely different. Joley had wanted color in his aura, but not like this. Never like this. Blood-red poured into the edges of the black, mixed and swirled, darkening the shadows and turning the color to violent death.

  The musical notes representing him clashed and burned with passion and darkness, feeding on violence and swirling with the need to destroy. She wanted to press her fingertips to her eyes, to keep the images from her mind, but there was no escaping the sound and sight.

  Breath strangled in her throat, and her heart slammed hard in her chest. Knots formed in her churning stomach. She was looking at the grim reaper. She'd had a brush or two with the death collector, but at that moment, watching the way the colors around him changed, she recognized with a sinking heart what she was seeing.

  Ilya could smell her fear. Hell, he could see it on her face. She took two steps away from him, never taking her eyes off of him. Foolish Joley, thinking those meager steps would make her safe. She turned to run toward the front of the bus and what she clearly thought was the safe harbor of her driver's presence. Ilya caught her when the bus lurched, and she almost went down. Drawing her against him, he caged her between his much larger frame and the door of the closet. He could feel tremors running through her body.

  He stood for a moment in silence, absorbing the satin heat of her skin, the silk of her hair and the soft feminine curves molded against him. He inhaled her, the scent feminine and clean, yet holding a hint of spice and more than enough sultriness for ten women. She kept her head down, holding herself still, like a cornered mouse, though he knew she was a tigress when riled.

  "Why are you suddenly so afraid of me, Joley?" His hand cupped the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding in the thick wealth of her hair. "What do you see in me that frightens you?" His other hand held her wrist loosely, keeping the palm of her left hand—the one he had marked—pressed against his hip.

  For a moment he thought she wouldn't answer, but Joley wasn't timid. Even afraid, she would face him. He felt her steel herself, that tremor that ran through her body, and she straightened, her back stiff, shoulders rigid. Respect and admiration rose in him. He tightened his fingers around her wrist and pressed her palm hard against his thigh. He felt his mark on her like a burning brand, right through the denim of his jeans.

  "Your aura." Joley choked getting the words out. "Your face gives nothing away, but I see what's inside of you." A volcano, on the verge of erupting into a violent maelstrom that would blast anything and everyone out of his path. He would mow them down as if they were straw in the wind. The truth of what and who he was terrified her, because if there was one man totally capable of death and destruction, she was standing in front of him, with his mark on her—all over her.

  "She's a child. What? Thirteen? Fourteen? Do you think I shouldn't be affected by her disappearance simply because she's a stranger?" His voice was gentle, low and caressing, reassuring. "She's a teenager at most, and she was in a place she shouldn't have been. I was there to keep an eye on things, to prevent anything like this from happening. Instead, my eyes—and my attention—were on you, and this child slipped past me."

  It was the melody in him that soothed her now. Once again his song had changed, and the notes were comforting and calm, as if that violent rendition had never been. The steady beat of his heart was strong a
nd precise, the beat that set the rhythm for his life. Calm. Exact. Absolute. The symphony rising around him sang to her, touched her where words might not have gotten through.

  "That wasn't concern I saw in you just then." Her mouth was still dry, although her heart had calmed and the adrenaline rush was fading.

  "You grew up very differently from me, Joley. In the world where I live, when young girls disappear, very unpleasant things happen to them."

  Joley let her breath out and nodded. "Unfortunately, this time I have to agree with you. I'm afraid for her, Ilya. I have a bad feeling about this. She called her mother to tell her where she was even when she wasn't supposed to, and that speaks of someone who wasn't running away from home."

  "I'll find her." Ilya spoke with that same absolute confidence his heart beat with. Rock-steady and deliberate.

  She stared up at his face, mesmerized by the determination there. His expression was one of the same utter calm, but his eyes glowed like a fierce warrior of old. Whatever Ilya was or was not—he cared about that young missing girl. Joley didn't doubt for a moment that he was going to find her one way or another. He would never stop, never give up, until he had knowledge of what had happened to that child. He hadn't given up on Hannah when the odds of saving her had been impossible, and he wouldn't give up on the missing girl.

  Joley yawned and hastily tried to cover it. She took a step toward a chair as exhaustion settled back into her body. She stumbled and Ilya caught her waist.

  "You're so tired you don't even know what you're doing." He tugged on her wrist and walked her to the back of the bus, where her bed was. "Lie down while we talk so I know you're at least resting."

  "I've never done this." The confession felt silly. She had never closed her eyes with a man in her room. She didn't have that kind of trust. The simple act of lying on the bed made her feel vulnerable. "I don't sleep with others in the room."

  "It's not going to hurt."

  Joley sighed and complied, crawling to the far side of the bed and lying down, feeling small and vulnerable. She was too tired to argue, and it wouldn't take all that long for him to realize she really couldn't sleep.

  Ilya bent down to remove her shoes. He tossed them aside and ran his hands over her feet in a rough caress that felt like he was taking her over. His hands made one pass only, but she trembled, the blood heating instantly in her veins.

  He sank down onto the mattress, sitting with his back to the headboard, his legs stretched out. The heat from his body warmed her as she lay stiff and wary beside him. "Relax for me, Joley. We're just going to talk."

  "I feel like I'm lying down with the big bad wolf."

  He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her temple. "What big eyes you have, devochka moya. Close them now." He dimmed the light.

  Joley moistened her lips, so aware of him there in the darkness. Every sway of the bus sent her body sliding against his. "How often have you gone to sleep with someone else in the room with you?"

  "Never. But I'm in a line of work guaranteed to make enemies."

  "That's a nice way of saying you have trust issues."

  He tugged at her hair, so that she felt a small bite of pain before his fingers soothed with long, caressing strokes. "We fit."

  She wasn't certain she wanted to hear that. She still feared he could see her aura the way she could see his, but she wasn't certain she could face him knowing, so she didn't ask. "We fight all the time."

  "That's just you running. Why do you think I'm here, Joley? You haven't slept in days and you're not at the top of your game. I want you back at your fighting weight when we do this thing, so later you can't say I took unfair advantage."

  She found herself smiling. "Liar. You don't want me at my best; I'd kick your ass and you know it."

  "We'll see." He leaned down and brushed a kiss across each eyelid. "About this girl who's missing. Are you absolutely certain you saw her at the party? Maybe she just looks familiar to you."

  "Steve doesn't think it's her," Joley answered honestly, "but in my heart, I'm absolutely certain. She was there with a group of other young girls. I wasn't looking when they first got there, so I don't know which car brought them, but they had to come through the gate. Whoever was on guard duty should remember them. Maybe five girls. All very young. One of them, this one," Joley opened her eyes and tapped the photograph he was once again holding, "made a cell phone call. Another girl shouted at her that she wasn't supposed to tell anyone that she was there. That confirmed it for me that they shouldn't have been there."

  "Joley." Ilya took her wrist again and brought her hand to his chest. "Did you notice anyone around? Anyone who would have observed you there at the time?"

  "Sure. Dean, one of my crew, and another man who I didn't get a good look at seemed to know the girls. They all took off running together when I shouted at them." Joley closed her eyes, replaying the scene in her head as she lay in the dark. "Brian came out and went to find them. Denny and some blonde were a distance away, and RJ and his bodyguards had driven up. I know they saw the girls and heard me talking to Brian. There were other people milling around as well. And Steve saw the girl, too. We both thought all the girls with her were too young to be there. Steve and I discussed it, but they were a distance away and we didn't get the best look at them."

  He stroked his fingers through her hair. "You take too many chances."

  Joley frowned. "What does that mean?"

  "It means you should never have gone to that party and gotten out of that car without your bodyguard right beside you. And earlier, the moment trouble broke out in the arena, you should have backed away, not gone to the edge of the stage where someone could reach you. I don't understand your security people. They know you've been threatened…"

  "How do you know that?"

  "It's common knowledge in your family, Joley. That man was with the Reverend's demented flock, and he had a can of spray paint in his hand to mark you as the devil's harlot. Your voice really affected him, which is why he was too slow to do any damage. I was lucky I got to him before he got to you."

  She didn't think it was luck. Ilya didn't rely on luck. "Well, thank you for keeping me from being spray painted. It wouldn't have been pleasant."

  "It could easily have been a knife."

  "I know. I'm well aware, after Hannah, what can happen with knives and how easily they're concealed."

  He brushed back her hair again, his touch this time comforting. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, laskovaya moya. Don't think about the attack on Hannah. Instead, tell me what you and Brian were arguing about. Your music was playing and I only caught a few sentences."

  She sighed. "I shouldn't have yelled at him. I was really angry with myself for not inquiring about that missing girl and I took it out on him. Ever since that night, I've been wishing I'd done something. Maybe if I hadn't left it to Brian to run them down, that girl would be safe at home with her mother."

  "When did you find out she was missing?"

  "After the Chicago concert, a week ago. And yes, she's still missing; I called the police department to check. After a show I often sign a few autographs for the fans who follow all my shows. The girl's mother was there and she grabbed me." Without thinking she rubbed her arm.

  Ilya pulled her sleeve back to examine the scratches in the dim light. The pads of his fingers soothed over the fading marks. "She did this to you? Where the hell was your bodyguard? And where was Jerry? He's supposed to be watching out for you." He brought her arm to his mouth, brushing his lips over the scratches.

  Her stomach did a little somersault at the feel of his lips, soft and firm, pressing against her bare arm. She forced her mind to think when everything in her seemed to be turning to mush. "Don't worry, everyone acted crazy and pulled her off of me. I tried to tell them I wanted to talk to her, but no one listened to me. Steve drove off and wouldn't stop even when I told him he had to. The last I saw of her, they were dragging her away."

  "Good. They at
least did their jobs—after the fact. She should never have gotten close enough to do that kind of damage."

  Joley opened her eyes again and glared at him. "I don't think you're a restful person—at all. The woman was scared and worried about her daughter. She wasn't trying to attack me."

  Ilya stared down at her with a long, accusatory stare. For some reason his expression made her squirm. She rolled her eyes.

  "Okay, she tried to pull me out of the van, but that was because she was so upset."

  "One of these days, someone is going to get hurt, laskovaya moya, and life as you know it is going to be over."

  She shoved at his immovable body. "That's exactly why we don't get along. I just go about living my life as normally as I can, and you throw out stupid statements like that. What does that mean? Is that some veiled threat?"

  "I don't know how veiled it was." His tone was mild. "I think the threat was clear enough. Once we're permanently together, you're going to have a bodyguard who actually protects you."

  She sniffed, showing disdain for his confidence, but her wayward body reacted. "I don't do permanent." She glared at him. "And neither do you."

  "All that's about to change."

  She was disgusted that she could be so physically attracted to a man who handed out orders as if born for it. A part of her felt she couldn't come to life unless this man was dominant, and yet she had to fight him until there was no hope of any relationship. She needed emergency therapy, but she was afraid it was already too late. Everything about Ilya both drew and repelled her. She needed him to take charge as much as she needed to fight him for trying to dictate to her.

  He brushed back her hair. "Don't look so upset. You're going to be fine. You just need a little sleep and you'll be back in fighting form."

  "I don't want to be attracted to you."

  He didn't even wince. He simply nodded his head. "I know. But we fit. We belong. I'm not willing to walk away because you're afraid."