“I cannot fathom how. He is delicious.”
Alexia kept her face down, swallowing hard. “How long?”
“We met when I turned sixteen, which would make this six, almost seven years? I found him in the garden the night of my birthday. He said he lost his way, that he wandered onto our property by accident, only he was so enchanting I did not encourage his departure.” She bit her lip, grinning. “I would have wished away my future that very night if he’d allowed it.”
Alexia stopped herself from smacking her near-sister.
One kiss. They had shared one kiss. Arik was free to love whom he loved.
“He came again the night of my engagement party—and we met once again in Charles’s garden. He seemed deeply interested in whether or not I wished to escape the marriage. Such a nice fellow! Had I not been promised, I would have approached Charles about him.”
Alexia only managed to keep from ripping out Sarah’s hair by biting the inside of her cheek.
Her aunt sighed. “We crossed paths again when I had been married two years—at a country inn. He politely inquired about my state. He expressed interest in Elizabeth North then, if I recall correctly.”
Alexia closed her eyes and froze, unable to trust her hands from wreaking havoc.
“And twice more on outings we met, but it has never been anything greater until recently.”
“Greater?” Her heart stopped, eyes jolting open. “What do you mean?”
Sarah twisted to see her niece. “He has visited me thrice in the last month, and he is very discouraging about John.” She grinned wickedly. “You must agree there is nary a man in England so agreeable to look upon.”
Alexia squeezed the comb handle, knuckles white. Somehow she managed to keep a smile on her face. “You like them both?”
Sarah’s grin broadened. “Methinks men fancy a challenge. Make them go out of their way, and you will find they express their intentions a great deal sooner.”
They driveled on about several other unimportant topics before Alexia abandoned her aunt for her own room, but her agitation would not fade. Arik had cared about Sarah enough to come to her, to offer her an alternative to her first marriage—and now that she was free?
Alexia paced, unable to sleep, growing more and more agitated. Finally she donned her dressing gown and sought her nightly remedy: cider.
The parlor doors hung wide as she passed. She peered inside. Starlight draped the couch as it had the previous evening—in her dream. She recalled how the light feathered across his scar and perfect lips, how dearly she had ached to lose herself in his embrace.
A throat cleared.
She twirled, clutching at her heart.
Starlight caressed brilliant azure eyes as they pierced into her. “Trouble sleeping?” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
She tugged her robe closer. “What are you doing here?”
A smile pulled at his cheek. “I thought I made that quite clear last night.”
She blinked. It had happened? She recalled the brush of his fingers across hers as he’d explained about the Soulless, encouraging her hopes—and then he’d spent the entire day with Sarah. She hugged herself conscientiously. “So you will persist, doing whatsoever you deem reasonable, even to societal and emotional impropriety?”
He turned a wary eye on her. “Have I offended you, Alexia?”
She straightened her shoulders, funneling her rage. “Only insofar as you have used my feelings to secure your purposes.”
He approached. She scuffled backward bumping into the wall. He halted right before her, head tilted, voice soft. “What in my manner has suggested insincerity?”
She scoffed. What indeed! “Perhaps the way you look at me—with sorrow in your eyes, or the way you withdraw in agony after a touch, or how you can kiss me in such a vehement manner and then disappear for a month!”
His eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched.
“Or how you can entertain Sarah’s affections when—” His hand thumped into the wall beside her head. She jumped. His overwhelming eyes turned up in full force, a tidal wave of burning desire. She froze in its wake, unwilling to dive for safety.
Through grated teeth he hissed, “I am trying very, very hard to be civil with you.”
“Civil?” She exhaled. “Because you cannot very well act thus and help but loathe me?” His brows crunched down. She crossed her arms. “I watched Mother die and survived the dismantling of my entire world. I do not need sheltering from the truth.”
He nodded, glaring at her through his lowered brows. “Your touch does cause me pain, to gaze upon you is torture, and for your kiss . . .” He tipped her chin toward his. “. . . I will give my very soul.”
She gasped.
“Is that what you want, Alexia?” His eyes closed.
She shook her head and reached out, daring to touch him for the first time. Her fingers brushed over his expressive brow. He inhaled sharply. She trailed down the curve of his temple, the zigzag of his scar, the point of his chin and finally the softness of his parted lips.
His eyes snapped open.
She met them, startled by the raging tides within. “You want me? Just me?”
He leaned in, halting so that his lips hovered above hers. “With every breath.”
She slipped her fingers into the ginger waves behind his ear, closing her eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His arms wrapped around her, drawing her body against his. She inhaled his oak flavor and shivered under the warmth of his breath. His lips skimmed across hers. She pulled him in with both hands. Their mouths collided. She lost all sense of space and time under the pressure of his surf, and then she was floating, floating on his current, dazed and glowing in the sun.
“Oh, Alexia . . .” He groaned and pulled away. She tightened her hold on him, silencing him once more with her eager lips. He returned her ardor as though he too were drowning, so hungry for her that he would not relinquish, even for air.
She pushed him back, gasping. He panted with her, arms tender but unyielding. He pressed his brow to hers, teasing his nose across hers, tempting her mouth back toward his.
“Why?” she whispered.
“Why what?” He dipped down, kissing her briefly.
“Why, if you feel this way, have you kept a distance?”
He leaned back, so they could see one another’s eyes. “It is worth it.” He drew a hand through her loose curls, ringing them around his fingers and pulling her nearer. “Whatever the cost, you are worth it!”
She blinked up at him, all the more confused.
“I will explain, but do not ask it of me.” He smiled, drawing near her waiting lips once more. “Not tonight.”
She nodded and surrendered to the pounding of their hearts.
48
Stolen Moments
Kiren was certain he’d stolen something that didn’t belong to him. Any instant the world would explode in a fiery ball and the elements would melt with fervent heat. That, or an army of eternal wraiths would attack and destroy the one thing he cared about most on Earth. For this instant, however, he clung to Alexia, savoring the softness of her lips and the sweetest wine of her kiss. Here was his heaven. If he never had greater, it would suffice.
But he ached for more.
Oh how he ached for more—an entire lifetime of these stolen moments! Would fate ever grant him the one desire of his heart? And how many times would he have to lose her before consigning his hopeful heart to the truth?
49
The Decision
The first gray light of morning roused Alexia with breathless apprehension. She touched her lips and relived the way he held her, the fervor of his kiss, the sound of her name on his desperate tongue. She had no idea how long she’d lost herself in his passion, but at last he had escorted her to her room and insisted she sleep, promising they would talk in the morning.
Her stomacher wouldn’t button quickly enough, the catches slipped as she hastened to
fasten her bodice, her skirts took entirely too long to settle, and her hair seemed hopeless!
She found him tucked away in the parlor, sitting near a gloomy window reading a palm-sized red book. She wondered if he’d slept at all after such a late night, or if he’d spent the entire evening—like the one before—watching. Did he ever sleep?
Upon her entry he folded his read, tucked it deep within his coat and rose. He stepped right up to her. Her body reacted without consent, tilting forward.
He chuckled. His hand closed over hers, sending a thrill of pleasure up her arm. “You must not be so eager.”
She reddened, embarrassed and angry, and lifted their clasped fingers. “Then you must not be so quick to engage.”
He sighed and brushed her jaw. “Quick? I suppose you do not know how long I have been aching to do this.” He pulled her in and placed a lingering kiss on her lips, arms slipping around her center.
She stared into his eyes. “What stopped you?”
“Business first.” He drew her deeper into the study, pulling the doors closed behind them. Her heart sped as his cloudy eyes turned on her. “Sarah must not know about us, about any of this.”
“Us?”
His smile warmed her like the sun through the rain. He sighed, and it faltered. “I have not been entirely clear as to what is expected of you—and for that I should be sorry.” His fingers trailed down her jaw. “But I am not.”
She blinked up at him. “What is expected of me?”
“You have a choice to make.” He brushed a dark curl back from her cheek, sending a tremor through her. “Either you must remain with your father and Sarah,” his brows lowered, “or you must leave this life behind for ours.”
That could not possibly mean what she wanted it to: ours, a life with him. She shivered. “And if I choose to stay with my family?”
He straightened up, wiping the emotion from his face and releasing her. “Then you shall have a life free of our kind.”
“Free of you?” There was already too much distance between them.
He hesitated, and nodded.
She swallowed. “And if the Soulless come for me?”
His eyes lowered. “They will be dealt with.”
She hugged herself. “And if I choose to go with you, what then?”
“You will have to abide by our rules and guard our secrets.” He offered his hands. She took them. Their fingers entwined and loosened in the early morning light, turning over in one another’s grasp. He watched them like he needed every fine detail, memorizing them, starving for their touch. “Dearest Alexia, if I may call you dearest?”
“Please.” She melted into his embrace. Her head rested against his chest—solid and endued by that delicious scent. This was heaven.
“Caring for me requires abandoning everything and everyone you now love.” He held her away. She looked up into the depths of his pooling blue, recalling the German caller’s story of disappearing girls. Arik’s pigment darkened. “If you choose this path, there will be no return.”
She nodded, sincerely torn.
“Alexia?” Sarah’s voice echoed from the hall beyond the door.
He kissed her briefly. She followed his retreating mouth, but he pushed her back, whispering, “I leave that decision in your hands.”
***
Alexia did not comprehend how he could be so calm and level headed in front of Sarah—who continued to tease and flirt, although he didn’t rise to her bait but continued courteously. Arik never gave a hint to what had occurred in the parlor while her heart raced. Every glance, every word, every unexpected whiff of his oaky musk threatened to undermine her control. She stayed far away until Sarah left them to check on the noon meal.
His lips grazed her ear. “Have you thought upon what I told you?”
Her knees trembled as she took in his magnificent face. “I have been trying, but you are an awful distraction.”
“Awful?” He kissed her cheek. She shivered, aching for his lips to be pressed to hers. His mouth came down as though responding to her silent plea.
Before his ominous tide swept her entirely away, before she lost all sense, she pulled free. “You are too good.”
One brow peaked. “At kissing you?”
Heat radiated off her neck and cheeks. “At guessing what I want.”
He frowned. “So good some people might accuse me of knowing.” His arms crossed. “And they would be right.”
“You what?”
He smiled. “When I look in your eyes, I see your thoughts, plain as the text in any book.”
Her jaw dropped. “You are teasing me?”
“No.”
She blanched. How many terrible things had she considered about him in his presence? Her mouth worked a moment before she managed, “Because you are Passionate?”
His head bobbed to one side. “Yes, but I have yet to meet another who can decipher thoughts the way I do. There is another way—one that can be employed by all our kind, one more powerful and completely initiated by touch.” He held up a hand, palm forward.
She stared.
“You advance the ideas or impressions you wish to disclose while connected, but you must be careful. Some of our kind can invade your consciousness and take whatever they like, even without your knowledge.”
“Without your knowledge?”
His brows lowered. “You can feel them delving if you are aware of the sensation, though very few know how. I will have to teach you.”
“Right.”
“It is not terribly complicated, and you would rather know when someone is flitting through your memories, as opposed to divulging your most treasured secrets.”
Like he was now.
He frowned. “I am overwhelming you.”
She agreed readily. The notion would not settle. Had he truly been privy to everything she’d ever thought around him? A series of less than virtuous considerations flitted through her memory. She wanted to die for humiliation.
“See, that is how I knew . . .”
She was not sure she wanted what came next.
“. . . how you felt about me.” He smiled apologetically. “You are frightened. I wish I had an easier way to tell you all this, but . . .” He sighed. “It is never going to be easier. You deserve the truth.”
She nodded again, attempting to mentally categorize him and this strange concept amidst the tales of vampires, werewolves and changelings.
“I am not a creature.” His head shook incredulously. “We are people as much as any other race or species. We feel, need, desire—just a little stronger than most.”
She swallowed. “You are telling me others do not,” she scanned his magnificent form, “want like we do?”
“Alexia!” He leaned back.
“No invading!”
“Do you often envision me . . . ?”
She reddened.
He chuckled.
Her fingers flattened, muscles twitching to slap his cheek.
He stepped away, smile fading. “I beg your patience, it is rather second nature.” He extended a hand. “I should like to make it up to you, please.”
She nodded. As their palms matched up, an image flooded into her mind.
He dismounted his gray and aimed up the stairs, gaze turning forward. The baron had no idea what was coming if he didn’t give the girl up!
His jaw fell.
A desirable young thing harbored the entry ahead, dark hair pinned back with loose curls spilling over her alluringly bare neck. The perfect shapeliness of her dainty form awoke a ravenous beast within his breast.
She turned. Long lashes batted over vibrant green eyes, pointed little face warmed by a blush that only served to heighten the contrast of her subtle nose and rich rose lips.
Alexia. He hurried up the steps, catching himself barely in time . . .
The parlor came back into focus as she struggled to comprehend. “You really felt like that? The very first time—?”
“And it
grows stronger.” He stroked a thumb across her fingers. “What I felt for you then is but a spark when compared.”
“But I had yet to change. How could you see me that way?”
He grinned. “I have only ever seen you one way, Alexia.”
The door opened.
Arik brushed past her as though they had never even touched.
“Our meal awaits,” Sarah announced.
He gave her aunt a superior look. Alexia wondered if he was reading Sarah now.
50
Troubled
Kiren slipped from his room, glancing cautiously either direction. He focused on Sarah’s door, straining his senses. Her soft snore drifted to his ears. He shifted his attention to Alexia’s room. Her mattress sighed against the bed ties as she tossed, her usual state of slumber before waking. He didn’t have long.
He padded down the stairs and around to the kitchen, pausing in the doorframe, out of sight. The cook removed her bread from the oven, yawned, and aimed for the back of the house, back to bed for an hour if her usual pattern held true.
He passed through the kitchen and out the door to the yard.
The dark silhouette rocked in the cold, a puff of white air billowing around him.
Kiren grinned and locked grips with the messenger. “Lester, what news have you for me?”
“Fire and brimstone, that’s what.” The runner shook his scraggly head. “That she-demon, she’s gone. Up and poof!”
His throat tightened. If Bellezza was free, the Soulless were merely a drop in the well of his new worries.
Lester pulled his hand free. “And were it not enough, there’s been a movement.”
Kiren straightened.
The runner rubbed his palms. “Them vultures been amassin’, all comin’ together in one place. Ain’t never seen so many.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “This could be what we been waitin’ fer.”
Kiren rested his hand on the hidden amulet below his coat. The Soulless had never unified, except on moonless nights. If they were crawling out from their hiding places before the lunar cycle, could he forego this opportunity?
He glanced back at the house. But it would mean leaving Alexia. That, or tearing her away from her world and placing her in even greater danger. Could he do that to her?
Moonless Page 17