But the man inside, the Knight born of honor, fought for control, warned him to take this slow. His desire for Jessica went beyond the sexual side of his Beast. Deep in his soul, he felt this woman was part of him. How or why, he didn’t know. But if he, like Jag, had a mate, he was beginning to think Jessica was his.
And he had to tell her about the journal, in such a way that she’d accept what he had to say, and be willing to help. But he also needed to confirm this connection was true, that she felt what he did. Because that connection would help him win her trust and her support in finding that list of bloodlines.
“I know we just met,” he whispered near her ear, his hand sliding to her stomach. “But there’s something between us. More than simple attraction.”
“Yes,” she whispered, rotating around to face him, her hands settling on his chest, their thighs touching.
Suddenly they were kissing. Crazy, hot kissing. Hands everywhere, exploring, touching, tasting. Des couldn’t get enough of her, and from the way she worked to free his buttons, the way she shoved his shirt over his shoulders, he knew she felt the same way.
Her soft hands caressed his bare skin, his chest, his arms, his back. His mind burned with images of her naked body pressed to his. Sugar and spice laced his tongue, her kiss drugging him into searing heat. Somehow, though, he still managed to separate his lips from hers long enough to pull her blouse over her head.
But before he could press her close—to hold her, to feel their bodies pressed together—their eyes locked. They stared at one another, the air crackling with electricity, with the charge of their attraction, with the heat of their emotions.
He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek, the pale beauty of her skin beyond comparison. But it was the look in her eyes, so innocent, so trusting, that damn near stole his breath. And he knew he had to tell her the truth. Had to tell her before he forgot himself again, before he made love to her with the poison of lies between them.
“Jessica—”
She touched her fingers to his lips. “Don’t. I can tell you are trying to talk yourself out of this. Don’t. No guilt. I want this. For once in my life, I don’t want to think. I just want to act.”
As if to seal her words, she lifted to her toes and pressed her lips to his. She used the momentary distraction on his part to unhook the front of her bra and shrug out of it. His gaze dropped to her breasts. High and full, they beckoned for his touch, for his mouth, the nipples plump and rosy-red. The Beast in him raged to life as he watched them pucker and tighten into hard peaks.
Logic and restraint faded. He lifted her to the counter, pressing her legs apart, her skirt riding high as he stepped between them. One hand slid into her hair, angling her head, positioning her mouth for the onslaught of his kiss. His tongue slid past her lips, parting them as he found her sweetness. Tasting her as a starving man would food. Hungry beyond any hunger he’d ever felt in his life.
Plain and simple, Des was on fire now, his cock hard, his body pumping out adrenaline, burning through lust like rocket fuel. He had to have Jessica. Had to claim her. His fingers skimmed her shoulders, her back, made a trail upward, over her knees, then her thigh-high hose.
Her tongue slid along his, a soft sound of pleasure filling the air, her hands moving almost frantically through his hair. As if she anticipated his next move as much as he did.
He inched his palms to the top of her legs, stroking the silk covering her mound. He could feel the heat radiating through the material, and he shoved it aside, his finger sliding along the slick proof of her arousal. A low growl formed in his throat, arousal pressing against his restraint. She was so wet. So ready. He filtered his passion into deepening their kiss, devouring her mouth. Fighting his burn to yank her panties off and take her, to bury himself deep inside her body.
Something amazing happened then. Jessica sighed into his mouth, the sound tracing his nerve endings, a fine mist of silky coolness. And with it, he calmed. Passion still burned, but man, not Beast, ruled. He hadn’t even known that was possible anymore.
Jessica drew back ever so slightly, her lips lingering a breath from his, teasing him with their warm caress. He felt her as he could only feel himself. Felt her emotions, her desire…her trust.
Suddenly, taking Jessica became less important than pleasing her. He began a slow seduction, learning what made her moan, what made her cry out. Driven to pleasure her, he yearned to feel her shiver with orgasm. His fingers teased her swollen nub, explored her sensitive core. Des lost himself in Jessica, in the sweetness of her surrender.
Abruptly, a shrill ringing of a nearby telephone filled the air, ending Des’s departure from reality, the fade into fantasy. His head turned to the sound, his actions stilled. A burst of awareness raked through his mind, over his nerves, shaking him with realization. He’d been completely, utterly lost in Jessica. Him. Des. Not the Beast.
For the first time since he’d become a Knight, the man had prevailed, and it scared him. He knew what to do with the Beast. He had barely a clue of how to handle the man.
“Ignore it,” Jessica said of the insistent ringing, pulling his mouth back to hers, fingers pressed to his face.
It was too late to slide back into oblivion. The phone had reminded him why he couldn’t do this. Why he had to talk to Jessica. His hands settled on her thighs as he reached for the control needed to pull away from her altogether. But somehow, he couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t bear the separation.
He inhaled and moved, reaching for the cordless phone where it hung on the wall. “It could be important,” he said.
Confusion flashed in her eyes and she shoved her legs together, tugging at her skirt. “All right then,” she said, accepting the phone and murmuring into the receiver. “Hello.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Des didn’t have to hear the other end of the conversation to know there was trouble. Discreetly, he flipped his headset back on, ignoring the murmured curse of reprimand from Max.
“I’ll be right there,” Jessica promised whomever she was talking with. She ended the call and spoke to Des. “Can you please take me to my father’s house?”
He glanced down to see her fingers trembling where she still held the phone. Before he could ask what was wrong, she started to get down from the counter.
Des eased closer to Jessica, helping her to the floor, acting without thought, instinct pushing him to protect her despite the warnings going off in his head.
The more the man surfaced, the more the danger of the past arose. The more he lost the Beast that allowed him to focus in battle, that allowed him to defeat his enemy, the more he began to feel. And emotions got a man killed.
Knowing this did him no good. Still, Des found himself comforting Jessica. “I’ll take you anywhere you need to go,” he assured her as he took the cordless from her and set it on the counter behind her, his attentive gaze never leaving her face. She was rattled, without a doubt. He softened his tone. “Are you okay?”
She nodded but her expression said she wasn’t okay at all. “Remember I told you about the diaries my mother kept?”
Des felt his gut tighten. “Yes,” he said cautiously. “I remember.”
“My father read something in one of them that’s upset him. He doesn’t get like this normally, though, so whatever it is must be disturbing in some big way.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t mind driving me? I can catch a cab.”
“I don’t mind,” Des said. His hands moved up and down her shoulders. This need to protect and defend that she brought out in him defied all he had done to stay focused on his duty as a Knight. To never let a personal attachment impact his decision-making, as he once had in the past.
A few minutes later, as he stepped outside and glanced to the full moon overhead, he thought of his purpose. The sky above, the sprinkling of stars always reminded him there was something bigger than himself out there. Something bigger than this internal war he fought over Jessica.
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Des ground his teeth. A few weeks from now he’d be back at the ranch and Jessica would be here. If he did his job right, the people on that list would be safe.
She walked toward his rental car, a Porsche 911 meant to enhance Des’s role as a rich donor. This thing with Jessica was a facade he’d somehow become sucked into. And it was dangerous.
Resolve formed as he opened the door for her, avoiding eye contact. He had a job to do. Duty to obey. His gaze shifted to her long, sexy legs, and he turned away, inhaling at the tightness in his groin. Damn it, he had to get a grip on himself.
Once she was settled, Des walked past the trunk of the vehicle to the driver’s side. “Package at your six o’clock,” he murmured into his microphone as he dropped Jessica’s keys and security pass by the curb.
Duty before desire, he reminded himself as he yanked open his door and slid into the Porsche. But as he shut himself inside with Jessica, the sweet scent of woman surrounded him, and both Beast and man united for perhaps the first time ever…desiring the same thing—Jessica.
But if he claimed her—if he allowed Beast and man to become lost in Jessica—would he lose the man? Would the Beast destroy the woman the man simply wished to cherish?
Chapter 7
The ride to her father’s house had been in blessed silence. Des seemed to know she needed time to compose herself, and Jessica appreciated his intuitive understanding. Because truth be told, her emotions were twisted in wild disarray.
Her world had started spinning out of control today and it hadn’t stopped yet. Tonight she’d almost had sex with a man she’d only just met. As out of character as that was for her, if her father had not called, she would have gone through with it. Des got to her in a way that defied reason. Somehow, she felt as if she’d known him forever, not a day.
Which was exactly why, when she pointed out her father’s house, Jessica sensed tension in Des. It was an odd sensation, coldness replacing the warmth she’d felt in him before. She’d never been so sensitive to a man’s moods. Never been so sensitive to a man’s touch.
He glanced out the window at the towering white mansion. Huge brick walls surrounded the exterior, a steel gate entry. “Who exactly is your father?”
Oh, how she hated telling the men in her life this piece of information. Hated seeing the spark of added interest when they found out. “Senator Montgomery,” she said flatly.
But there was no spark of awareness in Des when she made her announcement. In fact, his coolness became an arctic chill. She hit a security button on the gated entry and pointed out a side garage.
Once he had maneuvered the car inside the space she’d indicated, she turned to him. “Des?”
Slowly, his gaze went to hers, the lit parking area giving her a clear view of his guarded features. “Yes?”
“Is there a problem with my father?” she asked, thinking this was really a first for her. Always before, men had salivated to get to know her father. She sensed Des would rather bolt in the other direction. “Conflicting political views maybe?”
“I have no conflict with your father.”
“Something is wrong, Des. I—” She stopped herself, rattled by what had almost come from her mouth. I know you. That was what she’d been about to say. But she didn’t know him. They’d only just met. Besides, forcing him to meet her father so soon was a bad decision on her part. He had every right to be uncomfortable.
“You what?” he prodded.
“If this makes you feel awkward, I can have my father drive me home.”
He softened before her eyes, his fingers trailing along her jaw. “I’m not leaving without you.”
She suppressed a shiver, his touch impacting her in a potent way. Just as his words did. They held a possessive quality that couldn’t be missed. She’d never thought she was one to want a dominant male, but Des had a damn sexy way of playing that role. Not that she’d let him take the lead completely.
Thinking of their time back in her apartment, she hid a secret smile. The tug-of-war for power with Des could be an exciting game. She hadn’t done “exciting” in far too long, and she realized she needed the escape he offered.
“All right then,” she said, reaching for her door. “Let’s go inside.”
Jessica led Des along a paved sidewalk lined with manicured shrubs to the kitchen, at the back of the house. She stepped inside, silver-and-white decor sparkling around her, Des on her heels. Big open counters with shiny tile had once accommodated her parents’ love of cooking together.
Inside the door, her father waited. His Dockers pants and button-down shirt looked crisp and fresh, but his face was weary and tired. She rushed to him and gave him a hug.
“What’s got you so fired up, Dad?” she asked, leaning back to look at him.
His eyes were filled with concern. “You,” he said. “I’m worried about you.” His gaze lifted over her shoulder and caught on Des.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She stepped to her father’s side. “This is Des Smith. He runs the philanthropy department of his family business. Mexican culture is his special interest.”
Her father’s eyes sharpened with disapproval. “Wonderful.” His hands flew in the air and then smacked his legs. “You’re dating another history chaser. I’ll never get you out of that world at this rate.”
Jessica was just plain stunned by her father’s words. Even more so by the rude way he looked Des up and down. “Daddy! What is wrong with you?” She turned to Des. “I’m so very sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for me, Jessica,” her father said, eyeing Des, speaking to him, not Jessica. “I want your new man to know how I feel.”
Oh my God, she was going to crawl under a rock and die. “He’s not my new man! We just met.”
Her father kept talking to Des as if she had never spoken. “I don’t want her living in the past when she could be living for today. Her mother obsessed over history and now she’s dead.”
“Obviously, I’ve upset you,” Des said. “My coming here was a bad idea.”
“It was a bad idea,” Senator Montgomery said. He looked at Jessica. “We have family business to attend to. I’ll wait for you in the den.” He turned and walked away, not sparing Des another look.
Stunned by her father’s behavior, Jessica stared after him a moment, before turning to Des and taking a step toward him. “Des—”
“I should leave,” he said, hands up as if blocking her progress. “We both know I don’t belong here.”
His statement took her off guard because she had the sense it went beyond her father’s bad behavior, beyond this moment. The darkness in his eyes held a quality that touched her deep inside. A dark past showed itself in his reaction. A past that had somehow impacted how he was responding to her father’s comments.
Cautiously, she took another step in his direction, stopping so close she could reach out and touch him. “I invited you and you do belong. He’s upset and not thinking like himself. This is not how he behaves. Please. Will you wait for me? I really want you to.”
He stared at her, his dark eyes half-veiled, probing. Seconds passed, and then finally he spoke. “I’ll be outside.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. At least he wasn’t leaving altogether. Not that she could blame him, considering her father’s behavior.
Impulsively, she darted forward and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry for how he acted. And I promise I won’t be long.” She eased back and looked into his eyes, feeling her chest tighten with the connection.
Slowly, she inched away from him, not expecting a response. She turned and rushed after her father, intending full well to reprimand him. He might be upset, but treating Des rudely had been uncalled for.
She found him sitting on the brown leather sofa in his den, the empty fireplace the focus of his attention. Jessica sat down next to him, sadly remembering what was lost, thinking of the many times she’d found her parents sitting side by side on this same sofa, reading.
Several seconds pas
sed, silence lingering between father and daughter. “What was that all about?” she asked.
“I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe,” he said.
For an intelligent man, he wasn’t acting rationally. “Des isn’t putting me in danger.
He didn’t respond. “Dad,” Jessica said softly, preparing to reason with him, “Mom died of cancer. Of cancer. Her career did not kill her. Her work did not kill her, and even if it did, my job is much different from hers.” She sighed. “And you loved her excitement over her work, anyway.”
Grudgingly, he admitted, “I did until that journal turned from years of intrigue to downright obsession. In the end, it changed her.”
“Which means you supported her and her work for thirty-seven years. Don’t you think you are simply angry and in pain right now, looking for her work as a place of blame for your loss?”
“Don’t blame my grief,” he snapped.
He never snapped. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
He gave her a direct look. “Not tonight. All day. Did you know that your mother predicted the journal would be a target for theft?”
“No,” Jessica said. “But, as we discussed, it’s logical it would be targeted. It’s an amazing discovery.”
“I understand the importance of the discovery, but that isn’t what I am talking about. Your mother believed she had to find that journal to protect it. That she had some personal obligation to ensure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“She wrote about protecting the journal?” Jessica asked. “In her diaries?”
“Yes,” he concurred, turning to her, his brows dipped, forehead crinkled. “But I’m not sure you are hearing what I am saying to you. She didn’t think some common thief would steal the journal. She wrote about a belief that demons would come for it, that they would want the map inside it.”
Good grief, he was really distressed here. He’d taken the loss of her mother hard, but she’d thought he was doing better. “I doubt she meant demons literally,” Jessica countered. “Humans can be dangerous beasts. Greedy ones, too.”
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