Radiant Desire (A Handmaids Seduction, #1)

by Inara Scott

  Ted ran his fingers through his curly hair and sighed with relief. “Thank goodness.”

  “Who’s in there now?” Garrett asked, pointing toward Rachel’s room.

  “Her mom. She’s staying the night with her. Her dad was here before, but they can’t be in the same room, so he left.”

  Garrett had never met his own father, but he knew what it was like to listen to people try to tear each other apart. His mother had had a series of boyfriends that would come and go and there was always fighting, especially when the drugs wore off and there was no food or money. Once he’d moved in with Portia the fighting had stopped. Portia didn’t fight. Fighting was beneath her.

  “So what’s your plan?” he said, shaking off the unwanted memories. “You headed home?”

  Ted leaned his head back. “Are you kidding? I’m just going to get some coffee. She’s resting now. So far she hasn’t had any bad reactions to the anesthesia, which is good, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t going to be in a lot of pain when she wakes up. She’s been through hell.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?” Garrett indicated the plastic sofa. “That thing’s hardly big enough for Lexi.”

  “I don’t know. I just want to be close by. My place is all the way down in Pinecrest.”

  “Why don’t you stay at my condo? It’s only a couple of miles from here.” When Ted looked prepared to argue, Garrett said, “At least you can go take a shower and get in a nap before you come back.”

  Ted sighed. “I suppose a shower would feel good. I hate to impose. I know you’re busy.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I won’t be there. You can have the place to yourself. Stay there all week if you need to.”

  “Where are you going to be? Not the Manor?” Ted managed his first real smile of the night. “You and Portia getting along better than usual these days?”

  Garrett shrugged. “Kaia wanted to stay at Rachel’s shop. I thought I’d stay with her. Keep an eye on things.”

  Ted sat up and raised his eyebrows. “Keep an eye on things—or keep an eye on Kaia? What happened after you left on Friday? I never heard the story. Where’d she go?”

  “She was staying at a shelter,” Garrett said. He didn’t want to talk about Kaia. In retrospect, he wasn’t sure why he’d felt such a strong need to whisk her away from Good Sam. Obviously, he should have given her a hundred dollars and put her up at some lousy hotel instead of taking her to the Manor.

  For the last two days, he’d been bombarded by thoughts of her. They came at random, wholly inappropriate times. He’d been in a meeting that morning, and all he could think about was the way her body fit around his. During that afternoon’s conference call, he’d imagined the way she laughed, and the regal cast to her head when she stared down Portia at dinner.

  It confused him. It all confused him. He was in this for the sex. He was not in this for a relationship. When he’d gotten the call from Ted, all he could think about was how much he wanted to see her and hold her when she heard the news.

  “Seriously? I thought Rachel was exaggerating. That’s rough. So what did you do?”

  “I brought her to the Manor,” he said reluctantly.

  Ted whistled low. “Are you kidding me? You brought Kaia to meet Portia? That’s like holding a mouse up by the tail and feeding it right into the open mouth of the snake, isn’t it?”

  “You’d be surprised. She actually held her own. Perhaps even put Portia in her place a bit.”

  “You don’t say,” Ted marveled. “I’d like to have seen that.”

  “She was spectacular.” Garrett stood abruptly and twisted his house key off his key ring. The fluorescent lights of the waiting area were suddenly blinding, and he couldn’t look at Ted’s exhausted, worry-lined face for another minute. “Here’s the key. I’ll call Marc at the front desk and let him know you’re coming. I better get back.”

  Ted accepted the key and they exchanged a quick, back-pounding hug. With a final wave, Garrett headed back down the hall, almost breaking into a run as soon as he turned the corner.

  §

  A high-pitched buzz startled Kaia from her reverie in her spot on the futon that served as both sofa and bed in the tiny studio apartment above Rachel’s store. Groaning, she stood carefully so as not to disturb her growing list of supplies for the week, sketches of arrangements, and pictures from events Rachel had done in the past. After a long, catlike stretch, she pressed the intercom button by the door and called, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Garrett, Kaia. Let me up.”

  He did not sound happy. She pushed the button to buzz him in, her heart sinking at the thought that Rachel’s condition had worsened. When she opened the apartment door, Garrett was bounding up the stairs, his eyes snapping with irritation.

  “You wait until I knock,” he said, voice clipped. “You look through the peephole. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  She shook her head, confused. “I knew it was you.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” In two long strides he was at the door. He entered the apartment and immediately caught her in a tight embrace.

  “Is Rachel okay?” she asked, in a small voice.

  “She’s fine,” Garrett replied, before lowering his mouth to hers. The kiss was swift and needy, claiming her mouth with an intimacy that left her breathless. Instantly, she molded against him, his body wasting no time to find room between her legs. He kicked the door closed behind him. “I need you now.”

  Without a word, she turned to the futon and began to carefully move aside the books and papers. Garrett knocked them onto the floor.

  “Garrett, those were—”

  “I’ll put them back later.” He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Her legs folded and came to rest on either side of his hips. Fiercely, he cupped her jaw in his palms and placed his mouth on hers, warm lips moving, seeking her softness, pressing her for entry. She pushed against his shoulders, breaking their kiss so she could look at him, study the light in his eyes.

  “She’s okay, right?”

  He leaned forward and his head fell into the hollow at the base of Kaia’s neck. “She looks like hell, but she’s okay.”

  “How’s Ted?”

  “A wreck. I gave him the keys to my condo. I don’t know if he’ll go or not.”

  She tangled her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck and let him breathe for a moment. Slowly, she pushed him backward until he relaxed against the back of the sofa.

  “Let me love you,” she murmured, starting at his top button and pulling his undershirt from his pants when she reached the bottom. He did not protest, but let her undress him with slow, loving hands. She slid the pajamas off of her own body and rubbed her breasts against him, caressing each part of his skin from shoulder to belly and lower, eventually replacing the touch of her nipples with gentle suction of her mouth.

  He groaned when she took him more fully inside her mouth, sucking deeply in waves from base to tip, her bottom splayed out behind her while his hands ran down her back and over her spine. Just as he began to thrust into her mouth she pulled back, straddled him, and in one smooth motion, let him drive deeply into her core.

  “I’m not letting you go,” he said, grasping her hips and pounding into her like he was possessed, full of some ancient need that could not be satisfied with a simple orgasm.

  She paused, holding his face between her palms, her heart aching when she saw the vulnerability etched across his crystalline gaze.

  This was the man whose heart she’d been sent to break.

  The thought sickened her, and she buried it deep in her chest as she met him for every stroke, every thrust. “Nor I you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A little more than a week after the accident, after Kaia had closed the store for the day, she took a bus to visit Rachel’s new home: the Palm Shore Nursing Center. Rachel had moved into the convalescent home because her house had to be remodeled to allow for her wheelchair, which she’d
need for the next few months, at least.

  Palm Shore was a relatively small facility with forty rooms, constructed in a square around an atrium with a garden and indoor/outdoor swimming pool. Rachel’s room was airy, with soft pink walls and big windows that looked out onto a quiet, tree-lined street. Kaia was ushered in by a heavyset nurse about half her height, who spoke in soft, accented English. She had thick black hair wrapped in a bun on top of her head.

  Rachel’s lower body was covered with a sheet, but the soft fabric revealed bulky bandages and the outline of some kind of support on either side of her left leg. She held herself stiffly, and her face looked gaunt and pale. Her eyes were all Rachel—intense, engaged, and sparkling with life.

  “When exactly did you get here?” Kaia asked, trying not to stare at the sheet.

  “Friday. Last week. The hospital was desperate to kick me out, but they waited until I had somewhere to go.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come by yesterday. I was absolutely crazy trying to get the Peterson wedding cleaned up.”

  Rachel leaned forward. “How did it go? Were they happy? More importantly, did they pay you?”

  Kaia laughed. “Fine, I think, yes, and yes. I was an absolute beast about it. Demanded a check before I would give the bride her bouquet.”

  Rachel nodded with satisfaction. “Good. You got enough matching roses for the centerpieces?”

  “Yes, and for the head table I made a special arrangement with calla lilies, just like we had planned. It took forever, but I individually wired the stephanotis flowers for the bridal bouquet. It was stunning.”

  “Kaia, I can’t thank you enough for doing all this. You can’t imagine what a relief it’s been to know you’re in the store right now. I just don’t know what I’d do if it were some stranger trying to talk to my clients and keep them happy. I’d lose all my business. I know I would.”

  “They love you, Rachel,” Kaia said. “I’m just a pale substitute.”

  “Whatever.” Rachel brushed aside her modesty. “I just can’t believe I haven’t been to the store for a week.”

  Kaia laughed. “Yeah, I can’t believe it either.”

  “Heck of a way to spend my first vacation in a year, wouldn’t you say?”

  A soft knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in,” Rachel called, pressing a button to raise the height on her bed, shifting her weight awkwardly as she did. “I still haven’t quite figured how to move my butt without putting any weight on my legs,” she muttered, wincing as she pushed down on her palms to straighten her back.

  “Dinner!” a dark-haired nurse announced. She pushed aside a collection of cups filled with ice cubes and apple juice, and set down a tray bearing a plate covered by a plastic dome. “Macaroni and cheese, green beans, and your favorite—Jell-O!”

  Rachel shook her head. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  The nurse chuckled. “Just be glad it’s solid.”

  Rachel grimaced. “I suppose you’ve got me there.”

  “Let’s take a peek at your knee while I’m here.” She bustled over to the bed and pulled back the sheet. Kaia turned away as she caught sight of silver metal and bandages.

  After the nurse left, Rachel began to eat. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said. “I have all these pills to take and I get sick if I do it on an empty stomach.”

  “No, of course, go ahead.” Kaia got up and paced the room.

  Faeries’ bodies did not decay and age the way human bodies did. It was only their exposure to the earth—and any time they spent in human form—that caused the faerie to age. A faerie like Zafira, who rarely left Faeria, could conceivably live for a thousand human years.

  Now that Kaia had taken human form, she could feel her body changing. Her bones were growing heavier, more substantial. She didn’t feel as clumsy as she once did, but she also wondered if she would ever be able to fly again. And she wondered if she, too, could grow sick like the people in this hospital. Or hurt herself, like Rachel had.

  Or die.

  She’d prepared bouquets for dozens of funerals, and even more for hospital bedsides. And this, her first visit to her own injured friend, brought everything she had been learning for the past week—really, ever since she had left Faeria—into painful clarity. Despite all their bravado and their rampant reproductive abilities, humans were incredibly fragile. They got sick, they broke bones, they had accidents, and they died. And in spite of that fact—or because of it? Kaia still wasn’t sure which—they took enormous chances. They fell in love. They had children. They didn’t let the fear or the threat of loss stop them. They loved anyway.

  When Kaia passed into the universe, there would be no funeral. Faeries did not mourn, just like they did not raise their young. Faeries simply were, or were not. That was why Kaia had not understood before what it meant to fall in love. How could she? How could she know what it meant to love when she did not really understand what it meant to risk loss?

  “So… ” Rachel gestured as she swung the tray around to center it over her lap. She picked up a spoon and dug into the macaroni and cheese. “Tell me how things are going. Really.”

  “It’s going okay.”

  “You survived the wedding with your sanity intact? And you did it all yourself? I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly all by myself.” Kaia had to smile. “Garrett actually helped out quite a bit.”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes. “Garrett? Garrett Jameson? Are you kidding me? Garrett helped tie corsages? Garrett made boutonnières?”

  “Let’s just say Garrett has a way with a carnation you wouldn’t expect.”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “Well, that is really amazing. I am shocked. Absolutely shocked. Ted told me he was helping keep an eye on the shop, but I thought it was more in the way of financial oversight. You must have some kind of magic, girl, to get Garrett Jameson working in my store.”

  Kaia ducked, her cheeks flaming. “No magic,” she mumbled. “It’s just because he’s been staying at the shop with me.”

  “Um, excuse me? Garrett is living with you?” Rachel narrowed her gaze. “I better hear some details, and I better hear them fast.”

  Kaia plucked at the hem of her shorts. “It’s not a big deal. He didn’t want me living there by myself. He works late, you know, and I leave early. We’re barely in the same place together except when we’re sleeping.” Her blush intensified when Rachel giggled. “I didn’t mean that. We also have dinner together every night, and he gets me coffee in the morning before he leaves and… ” Rachel laughed harder and Kaia spread her hands helplessly. “Oh darn it, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “He gets you coffee?”

  “Café cubano,” Kaia admitted.

  “You go out to dinner?”

  “Sometimes he brings home takeout,” Kaia whispered. She didn’t mention all the times they went out to listen to jazz, or the way they rolled around on the futon every night, laughing at the way the wooden frame creaked under their combined weight.

  Rachel leaned forward, wincing when the movement put pressure on her injured legs. “Kaia, that sounds serious. I don’t know that he’s ever dated the same woman more than one night in a row, let alone lived with her for a week.”

  “I don’t know.” Kaia studied her fingers. “We aren’t really living together. I mean, we are, but this is a unique sort of event. I’m just taking it one night at a time, really.”

  “That’s probably not a bad idea,” Rachel said, her smile fading. “I know I tried to set you up and all, but Garrett’s a pretty tough cookie. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  “A tough cookie.” Kaia turned the expression over in her mind. “Yes, I think that about covers it. He’d do just about anything to avoid talking about his family or his feelings about his job. He even changes the subject when I bring up Lexi, and I know he adores her.”

  “And you?” Rachel asked. “How are you feeling?”

  “I can
’t go there.” Kaia spread her hands helplessly at the rush of emotion Rachel’s innocent question evoked. “It’s just too soon. After Charlie, you know.”

  “Of course,” Rachel agreed, her voice like a soft blanket around Kaia’s tormented heart.

  Kaia walked over to the window and looked outside at the concrete roof of the structure next door to the hospital. “What do you think it means to be in love, Rachel?”

  The question had been nagging at her all week. She knew Garrett felt something for her. He didn’t have to stay at the apartment, and she didn’t believe he could fake the tenderness in his arms or the way he guided her to total physical surrender every time they made love.

  But she needed more. As sick as it made her, if she wanted to keep her wings and her soul, she had to make him fall in love, and she had to break his heart.

  What did that really mean? How would she know if he was truly in love?

  Rachel stopped mid-bite. “Well, that’s a pretty huge question. What does it mean to be in love in general, or what does it mean to me?”

  Kaia shrugged. “I don’t know. Either one.”

  “I suppose it means you can’t live without someone,” Rachel said slowly. “It means you put their needs before your own. You go through life knowing that a piece of your heart and your soul will always be filled by them.”

  “Does that make you empty if they aren’t there?”

  “No. It just makes you more full when they are.”

  “Do you feel that way about Ted?” Kaia asked Rachel, hoping to take her mind off her own confusing tangle of feelings.

  She assumed it would be an easy question. Rachel had told her any number of times that she loved Ted but that she wasn’t sure about the marriage side of the equation. Rachel looked down and plucked the sheet in front of her.

  “You know, when I opened my eyes after my surgery, the first person I saw was Ted. He was sitting next to my bed, holding my hand, and he was looking at me with those big puppy-dog eyes of his. And it was wonderful. I don’t know how to describe it. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, like I knew I would be okay because he was there. And I started to babble something about the store, and you, and I don’t think any of it made sense. Because all I really wanted to say was, ‘I love you, Ted. And I never want to wake up without you ever again.’”