Tilting her head back, Abby looked up into the mouth of the wave and felt her lips curve into a smile. Let it come. She was ready.
Body arching, heart pounding, she gathered herself and threw her heart into the tidal wave, knowing that when she washed ashore, she would never be the same.
It didn’t matter, because neither would Rule.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
If demons were allowed into heaven, Abby was the gate through which they would enter.
Rule acknowledged the truth of that an instant before he frowned. That shouldn’t have been plural. Only one demon would ever touch her, and he’d make damned sure only one ever entered her.
The office had fallen silent. Even the fire seemed to burn on without a sound. All Rule could hear was the slowly steadying sound of Abby’s breathing and the too-rapid beating of his own heart.
She had destroyed him.
He had no other words to describe it. She had torn down every barrier he’d ever erected around himself in all the thousand years of his life and had used every last one of them as so much kindling for the flames that had consumed them. For a small, relatively quiet human she packed the destructive wallop of a class-five hurricane.
No one would ever guess by looking at her. He tilted his head and gazed down at her where she lay limp and boneless against his chest. She still had the average features and the baby-soft skin he’d noticed the first time he saw her. She still had the fine ash-brown hair and the soft, plump curves, the utter, forgettable humanness he’d made note of. She still looked as ordinary and unimpressive as he’d judged her from the first moment, and if anything, she had even more power to stop his heart and start his libido than any female of any species he’d ever met.
It defied all reason, that she should leave him so helpless. Someone so small and so plain should not be able to fell him with a single touch of those slender fingers, but Abby could. The evidence was overwhelming.
She stirred in his lap, shifting against him like a sleepy kitten, and his arms tightened reflexively around her. He watched, utterly fascinated, as her forehead wrinkled in a frown, then cleared when she gave in to a jaw-cracking yawn.
He was doomed.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she muttered against his shirt. Her voice was thick and husky with sleepiness and remembered pleasure. “They’re still there, right?”
Unable to resist, Rule slid his hands over the limbs in question and felt her shiver.
“Um. That’s a yes. I guess they fell asleep.” She yawned again.
Rule shifted forward in the chair and helped her straighten her legs. He thought she would slide them to the floor and let both him and her up out of the chair, but instead, she unbent her legs from their cramped position only to wrap them around his waist, ankles locking behind his back.
She pillowed her head against his chest. “Mm. Better.”
Rule felt himself hardening. “Abby . . .”
He didn’t intend to upset her. Powers knew he liked the feel of her against him, the warmth of her body still cradling him inside her, but something unexpected had happened, at least unexpected from his point of view, and he needed to process it.
She stiffened and pulled away to look up at him. “That was a ‘we need to talk’ voice.”
Damn it, they did need to talk. He needed to talk. He just wasn’t sure yet what he needed to say.
Abby sighed, and he felt the liquid softness seep out of her, felt her stiffen and distance herself even while she remained locked in his arms. “I guess I got better at some of the sex thing, but not all of it, huh?”
Rule scowled, an expression that deepened when she braced her hands against his chest and separated their bodies, wincing a little when he slipped free of her tender opening. “What are you talking about?”
She shrugged and tried to push away from him. “I wasn’t very good at this when I was eighteen, either. I guess some people just don’t have the knack, huh?”
“You’re positively dripping with knack,” he assured her, feeling completely at sea. “Did you somehow mistake the signs that I enjoyed myself thoroughly? Did my explosive orgasm not clue you in?”
A blush stained her cheeks but didn’t provide him with any clues as to where on earth her brain had gone to. Whatever train of thought she had boarded, she had clearly left him at the station.
“Fine. You enjoyed it at the time, but you don’t seem to be having a lot of fun now.” She tried once more to push away from him and once more he refused to let her go. “Guys only use that ‘let’s talk about this’ voice when they’re about to tell you that it’s been fun, but this isn’t going anywhere because they don’t think about you that way.”
That at least made her look at him, even if she was frowning. “I am. You know I am.”
“Then would you mind telling me what makes you think you can read my mind?”
“I never claimed I could—”
“Exactly!” he roared, unable to resist the urge to shake her, very gently. “Stop jumping to conclusions before you fall and hurt yourself.”
He watched a blush rise from where her breasts pressed against his chest and climb into her cheeks, staining them a fiery crimson. He made a mental note to find out exactly where that color started next time and follow it from top to bottom.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, looking at his shirt instead of at him. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t good at this.”
“You were wrong. You happen to be very good at ‘the sex thing,’ ” he said, stroking his hands down her back. “You simply need to work on the bits where you start talking.”
She gave a half smile and played with one of his shirt buttons.
“You were correct when you thought I wanted to talk to you,” he said, stroking a hand over her hair, marveling at the fact that it felt almost as silky as her skin. “I do, but not to criticize you or to drive you away from me. I want to make sure you are well, that I did nothing to hurt you.”
Her blush deepened. “Not in a bad way.”
He resisted a primitive urge to beat his chest. “Good. And I want to try to understand why you decided to goad me into taking you.”
That brought her eyes to his, wide and startled. “What . . . I mean . . . what makes you think I goaded you—”
“Abby . . .”
She bit her lip and looked back down at his shirt. “It wasn’t like I planned it. I was really mad. I’m going stir-crazy, and having Noah tell me there was no end in sight drove me a little crazier, but I didn’t come storming down here with this in mind.” She shook her head. “Trust me, I couldn’t have dreamed this up if I’d tried. I’m not that creative.”
Rule had a sudden vision of helping her discover her creative side that had his arms tightening around her. Before he could make any suggestions, though, he heard a brisk knock at the door and someone counting down from ten on the other side.
“What the—?”
“Ready or not, here I come.” The door swung open and Tess hurried inside. She took one look at the room’s occupants and shut the door behind her. “Looks like you aren’t ready.”
“Tess, what are you—?”
“You can yell at me for interrupting later,” she said, striding forward and tugging her sweatshirt off over her head. Beneath it, she wore a black tank top with a round neck and wide straps. She held the shirt out to Abby. “Here. Put this on.”
“Why?”
Tess raised an eyebrow. “Because while you might have forgotten about the fact that you’re sitting there stark naked, I can assure you that that fact will not escape your brother’s notice when he gets here in approximately,” she glanced at her watch, “thirty more seconds.”
Rule watched the color drain from Abby’s face, then return in a rush as she disappeared and then reemerged from the neck of the sweatshirt. It was oversize, so it covered her all the way past her hips, but her legs were still bare and pale in the lamplight.
Tess ushered her to the sofa.
“Sit. Put this over your legs.” She grabbed a soft knit throw off the back of the sofa and tucked it around Abby’s legs. Nodding decisively, Tess grabbed a book from the coffee table, opened it to a random page, and thrust it into the other woman’s hands. “Here. You’ve suddenly developed an intense fascination for . . .” Again she paused, this time to glance at the cover of the book. “Pennsylvania’s covered stone bridges.”
Leaving Abby dazed but compliant on the sofa, Tess turned her assessing eye on Rule. Then she rolled both of them. “For God’s sake, zip up, pal.”
Rule nearly blushed himself as he adjusted and refastened his jeans.
“And next time, try not to leave torn clothes all over my husband’s office, will you? He works hard in here and doesn’t need you providing fodder for his overactive imagination.” Tess grabbed a handful of fabric scraps and shoved them into a wastebasket before she took a last glance around the room and nodded in apparent satisfaction. “Good.”
She had barely gotten the word out when the office door swung open again and Noah walked in. He made one sweeping survey of the room before he turned directly to Rule.
“There’s someone here to see you,” Noah said, his tone calm and casual. “Big guy, red hair. Won’t talk to me. Graham put him in his office by the main entrance.” He turned to Tess and raised his eyebrows. “I looked for Rule in the billiard room, like you said, but your husband told me he’d last spotted him in here. When the two of you were leaving.”
Tess didn’t even stutter. “Was that when? I knew I’d seen him recently, but I have the worst memory for details.”
“Right.”
Rule looked from the witch to the warrior and was glad neither of them was working against him. At the moment. He cleared his throat. “I’d better go down and see what’s going on. Keep an eye on your sister.”
When he strode out into the hallway, it felt like the closest escape he’d managed in a long, long time. He just hoped Noah wouldn’t notice the unmistakable bruise he’d left at the base of Abby’s throat. Like he’d already decided, he didn’t want Noah working against him.
Tess made her excuses and left the office right behind Rule, leaving Abby alone with her big brother. The big brother who had scared away every male who had ever looked at her for just a few seconds too long while she’d been growing up. He circled around the end of the sofa and settled onto the cushion at her feet.
“New hobby of yours?” He nodded to the book in her hands, his expression utterly bland.
Abby looked down at the forgotten prop and tried to make her shrug casual. “Just something to do. You know how bored I’ve been the last few days.” She closed the book and laid it down in her lap. “How’s the search going?”
“About like it was when you asked me a couple of hours ago,” he said. “You going to snap again when I tell you that?”
“No. I know you’re doing your best.”
Noah nodded. “Glad to hear that.”
A moment of silence stretched between them and Abby tried not to squirm under her brother’s gaze, but that was easier said than done when she could feel how wet and sticky she was from her and Rule’s recent activities. She really wished she’d had time for a shower before she’d had to face Noah again.
“So,” he said, his voice just as bland as his expression, “have you been managing to entertain yourself?”
She drew in a quick breath, then blew it out and slumped against the arm of the sofa. “How did you know?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t hard to figure out, Ab. You and Rule both looked like kids who’d gotten caught sneaking cookies before dinnertime. His hair looked like someone had been running their fingers through it for the last couple of hours, and you have a hickey on your throat the size of a Bradley Fighting Vehicle.” His mouth twisted. “Plus, I’m pretty sure that’s your bra on the floor next to the fireplace.”
Abby buried her flaming face in her hands. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
Noah snorted. “Why? I’m not Mom and Dad. It’s not like I expected you to stay a virgin until your wedding night. Not,” he held up a hand, “that I want to hear any details, but I’m not your keeper.”
“That’s not how you felt when I was growing up.”
“Christ, Abby, you were eight years younger than me, and the guys in my platoon were horny dogs. You’re damned right I told them I’d kill ’em if they touched you.”
“Just as long as you’ve changed your mind.”
“Well, I’ll kill anyone who hurts you,” Noah qualified, “so I have to say that on a practical level, I kind of wish you’d gone for someone a little easier to take down, like a professional wrestler or something. But like I said, I’m not your keeper. And I’m not your conscience.”
Abby grimaced. He’d had to bring up the c word. She plucked at the throw blanket’s braided trim. “Yeah, well, I don’t think anyone’s being my conscience at the moment. Not even me.”
“What are you talking about?”
She pulled a face at him. “I just had sex with someone I’ve known for less than a week, No. My conscience is clearly on the fritz, along with my common sense and any sense of self-preservation I may once have had.”
Noah shook his head. “Abby, from what I can tell, you just slept with an honorable, responsible, capable guy who happens to go all twisted with lust every time you step into the room.” He looked at her expression and snorted. “Yeah, I noticed that. I think the staff in the kitchens downstairs noticed that. You’re both healthy, consenting adults. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with that?” she repeated and waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello! Anybody home? Aside from the whole known-him-less-than-a-week thing that I already mentioned, there’s the fact that the meeting happened when he kidnapped me.”
“He didn’t stuff you into a van and call Mom and Dad for a ransom, Ab.”
“So what? He’s responsible for me being confined someplace against my will. There’s a term for stupid idiot girls who fall in love with their kidnappers. It’s called Stockholm syndrome. I’m thinking of changing my name to Inga.”
“You do not have Stockholm.”
Abby crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her brother. “Oh? Then what would you call it?”
He thought about it for a second. “The hots?”
“Noah—”
He heaved a put-upon sigh. “Abby, what is this really about? What has you so bent out of shape about this? Rule seems to be a great guy. Why are you so freaked out by the idea of having some kind of a relationship with him?”
Darn it, why did her brother have to understand her so well? She squirmed in her seat. “You mean aside from the kidnapping thing and the fact that he’s not human?”
“Demon or not, he’s an improvement over a couple of the guys you’ve dated. Like that jerk you were all over in college.”
“Improvement in whose eyes?”
“Anyone with half a brain.” He ticked off points on his fingers. “Rule is responsible, intelligent, and capable of kicking the butts that need it. He’s also a hell of an interesting guy and according to the whispers of the waitresses in this place, ‘sexier than he has a right to be.’ So what really has you knotted up like a macramé project gone wrong?”
With a drawn-out groan, Abby let her head fall back against the arm of the sofa and stared up at the plaster-worked ceiling. “You just said it all yourself.”
Noah was silent for a moment, then another one. “Okay, you’ve lost me. I said what?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, No, you’ve seen the guy yourself, haven’t you?” She lifted her head so she could glare at him. “He’s like a walking female fantasy. He’s big and built and gorgeous. I know the female staff around here must be talking about him, because I’ve seen them drooling over him.”
“And you have a problem with that?”
Abby tried to laugh, but she wasn’t really amused, and the sound reflected that. She spread
her arms. “Look at me, Noah. He’s like a cover model, and I’m like the girl next door’s less remarkable younger sister.”
He wrinkled his brow and stared at her in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? You sound like a blithering idiot. You’re—”
“He’s out of my league, Noah!”
Her bombshell shut his mouth with a clack. He sat looking at her for so long, she wondered if they’d been caught in some sort of time warp. If she listened hard, she figured she’d hear the crickets chirping.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said slowly, “but what did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard something, but it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. Care to explain?”
She glowered at him. “You’re not stupid, Noah, and you’re not blind. Well, neither am I. I have a mirror and eyes and I can see that women who look like me don’t attract men who look like Rule.”
“You’re sure you’re speaking English?”
“Don’t be an—”
“No, hold on,” Noah interrupted. “You need to stop talking like an idiot. There is nothing wrong with the way you look. You’re making yourself sound like some sort of deformed hag.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I know I’m not ugly. I don’t have a wart on the end of my nose, or a hump on my back, or snakes for hair.”
“Glad to hear you realize that.”
“But I’m average,” she continued, talking over him. “I have average features, average hair, an average body. I blend into the woodwork. Men who look like Rule don’t find me attractive.”
Noah pointed off toward her bra lying on the floor near the desk. “I’d like to draw your attention to some evidence to the contrary.”
“Maybe he has Stockholm syndrome, too,” Abby muttered. “He was cooped up here with me, and he needed to get laid. I was convenient.”
He shook his head. “Seriously. You need therapy here, Abby. You’re a beautiful girl. Not every woman needs to be blond and stacked. And not every guy even likes the ones who are. Some of us like girls who look capable of rubbing a couple of brain cells together.”
The Demon You Know Page 17