In Destiny’s Shadow

by Ingrid Weaver

  And there wasn’t one sign of habitation in sight. No buildings, no lights, nothing.

  Anthony turned in a slow circle, as if he were surveying the area. “We’re close,” he said.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s there. To the northwest. A mile, maybe two.”

  She squinted in that direction. A mile? There was nothing to the northwest except a shadowed cleft that was probably the edge of another canyon. Besides, how could he see anything through the shadows and that curtain of rain? She glanced at his face.

  His eyes were shut. His jaw was clenched. He appeared to be lost in concentration, just the way he’d looked two hours ago, after he had driven off the road.

  Alarmed, Melina touched his hand.

  The contact with his skin sent a shock through her arm. It zinged to her breasts and down her stomach, releasing a flood of sexual heat between her thighs. She gasped and staggered backward.

  Anthony’s eyes flew open. He grabbed her by the shoulders, yanking her away from the cliff’s edge. “Careful!”

  Tendrils of pleasure spread from where he touched her. Tingles rose along her neck to pulse in her earlobes. She shuddered.

  He released his grip and snatched his hands away. “Dammit, Melina, I can’t keep this up much longer. The storm’s too close. You should have stayed with the Jeep.”

  She stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. What couldn’t he keep up? “I don’t understand.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s why you have to go back.”

  “What’s going on? How can you be looking for Benedict’s stronghold with your eyes closed? How do you know it’s nearby?”

  “I don’t have time to explain.”

  “Did you see something and just not tell me? Is that it? Are you trying to cut me out?”

  “Melina, no.” Lightning flashed. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Don’t start that again. We had a deal. I—”

  Her words were cut off by a clap of thunder. The ground trembled beneath them.

  And somehow, she ended up against Anthony’s chest, her arms wrapped around his waist, her fingers digging into his leather jacket. Her lips were pressed to the base of his throat and her right leg was hooked around his hip.

  She didn’t know how it had happened. She hadn’t remembered moving. But she stayed where she was, incapable of pulling away.

  Somewhere in her logical, rational mind, a part of her was screaming out a warning. This was wrong. It didn’t make sense. But the rest of her had never felt more certain of anything. Yes. This was right. This was where she wanted to be. This was where she belonged, with this man. This was all that mattered.

  “Melina.” His voice was strained, as raw and as elemental as the sound of the wind. “Leave now.”

  “No.” She opened her mouth to breathe in the taste of his skin.

  His body shook. “Melina, don’t.”

  The taste wasn’t enough. She tipped up her face, grabbed his head and pulled his mouth down on hers.

  Chapter 7

  The world dissolved in a sensual blur. On one level Melina was aware of the approaching storm, of the wild, empty landscape around them, the Jeep that they’d left on the floor of the canyon and the criminal they had come here to find. Yet all of that faded, submerged beneath the impact of Anthony’s kiss.

  It was a kiss like none she had experienced before. She absorbed the warmth of his lips, she felt the moisture of his tongue, but there was so much more than the physical sensations. Something flowed between them, a connection, a current. Sex. Desire. As pure and free as the storm.

  It took the strength from her knees.

  He caught her before she could fall, wrapping his arms around her back. Not breaking the kiss, she hooked her other leg around him and locked her ankles behind his waist, clinging to him shamelessly. No, that wasn’t right. There was no room for shame. No room for anything but this driving need.

  More lightning cracked, close enough to raise the hair on her arms. The thunder that followed made her ears ring. A tremor went through Anthony’s frame. She felt it echo in every sensitive place in her body, pushing her close, oh, so close to the edge. She whimpered, rubbing against him, wanting it to stop, never wanting it to end.

  He lifted his head. His hair whipped against her cheek. “Melina, we can’t stay here.”

  She opened her mouth over the side of his neck, pressing her teeth to his skin.

  “We need to take cover.” He grasped her legs to ease them away from his waist. “The storm’s going to break.”

  She clamped her legs around him more tightly, refusing to be dislodged. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn’t care. She had to get closer. After two hours of torment she had no more restraint. She had to join with him now, this instant, or surely she would go mad. She tilted her hips, trying to fit more snugly against him.

  Through the barrier of their clothing, she felt the outline of his erection. He wanted her. That was plain. Her thighs quivered. Her sex throbbed. Yes. Oh, please. Now. Now!

  “Melina…”

  She pounded her fist against his back. “Damn you, Anthony. Don’t leave me like this!”

  “Do you think I want to? I know what—”

  His words were lost in a blinding flash, followed a split second later by an explosion of noise.

  Melina screamed with frustration. Tears coursed down her cheeks. She felt like crawling out of her skin. It was as if each bolt of lightning was making the craving worse. She was helpless to explain it, powerless to end it. How could she expect Anthony to understand when she didn’t?

  Before the vibrations from the thunder ended, Anthony peeled her off his body and set her on her feet, keeping one arm behind her back to steady her. He grasped her chin. His gaze sizzled through hers. “I warned you, Melina.”

  She had trouble drawing breath to speak. It was all she could do to stay upright.

  “Remember that afterward, all right?” He moved his hand to her hair, his touch gentle despite the roughness in his voice. “I didn’t plan for this to happen.”

  She leaned her cheek into his palm and nipped his thumb.

  “Damn,” he whispered.

  She swirled her tongue over the tip of his thumb and drew it into her mouth.

  He opened her jacket, undid her blouse and slipped his fingers beneath the edge of her bra. He stroked his wet thumb over her bare nipple.

  The pleasure was so intense, she cried out. She was close, so close, oh, yes. Yes! He did understand.

  “Trust me, Melina,” he said, lowering his hand to her waistband. Tingles shot outward from every inch of skin he touched, making her moan. He unfastened the front of her cords and slipped his hand inside. “I’ll make it better.”

  Better? Better? She was going to die. She couldn’t possibly endure one more second. It had gone past the point of pleasure and was building into pain.

  He kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth at the same instant he moved his fingers.

  A bolt of brilliant blue-white burst in her vision. Wave after wave of release pounded through her body. It was swift and brutal and too much, oh, too much….

  Her lungs heaved. Her vision went black. The last sound she heard was her own scream.

  Anthony sat cross-legged on the sandstone outcropping and listened to the water trickle from the overhang above him. The rock sloped gently into the side of the canyon here, forming a shallow cave at the back of the ledge where he had kept watch through the night.

  He was lucky to have found this spot. It was set far enough into the cliff wall to provide shelter from the weather yet still exposed enough so he didn’t feel enclosed. The rain had stopped more than an hour ago. The remnants of the storm had moved off to the east. The glow in the clouds wasn’t from lightning, but from the approaching dawn.

  He looked at Melina. In the dim light from the fading stars, all he could see was the dark outline of her shape as she lay curled against his knee
. Wrapped in his jacket, her arm folded beneath her head for a pillow, she appeared achingly vulnerable. He touched the bend of her elbow. A faint echo of the power that had sparked between them yesterday teased his senses, but like the thunderstorm, most of it was spent now, too.

  Anthony had known the connection with Melina was unusually strong, but he hadn’t anticipated how strong. It had been more intense and more immediate than anything he had experienced before. He had scarcely touched her when the force of her climax had made her pass out. She had still been unconscious when he had carried her here. She had stirred briefly when he had draped his jacket around her but she hadn’t wakened up fully.

  He stroked her arm with his fingertips. Rest was the best thing for her. She would be exhausted. On top of the shock of her sudden release, she had sustained a state of extreme physical arousal for too long and her body needed time to recover. Add to that the fatigue and the stress she had been fighting all week and it was no surprise that she was still asleep.

  He should be feeling guilty over what he’d put her through. She wouldn’t understand it. Considering her pride, she would probably blame herself for her loss of control. Yes, he should feel guilty.

  He didn’t. He felt cheated.

  How long had it been since he’d allowed himself to connect with a woman this way? He couldn’t remember. The only thing he was sure of was that he had never known anyone as responsive as Melina. She had deep passions. In other circumstances, she would have been an extraordinary lover.

  He moved his fingertips to her cheek. After the intimacy they had shared, it would be easy to open the connection again. Why not do it? Why not use her as he’d allowed her to use him? Things were going to change when she woke up. There would be no more need to hide his ability, no going back. Depending on how she reacted, the truth might end their partnership.

  Yet that was the risk he’d been willing to take when he’d chosen to use the storm to track Benedict. This might be the last opportunity for him to take the relief he had denied himself last night.

  He felt tiny crystals of dried tears on her skin. He brushed them off, remembering her desperation as the storm had broken. All she had wanted from him was relief. Like thirst that had to be quenched or an itch that had to be scratched, the sexual craving she had been suffering from had needed to be satisfied.

  Was it crazy to wish it could have been more? To wish that it could have lasted throughout the night, that it could have been genuine?

  He leaned over to place a kiss on her temple, then rubbed his nose against her hair, drawing in her scent. He wanted Melina to look at him with desire that wasn’t the result of some freak side effect of his talent. He wanted her to want him. He wanted the freedom to indulge himself in her warmth, to forget his responsibilities, to escape from his destiny for another few hours….

  Muttering an oath, he straightened up, breaking the contact with Melina. No. He couldn’t let his resolve weaken. He was here for one purpose and one purpose only. Until it was over, he didn’t have the right to want more.

  He rose to his feet and walked to the edge of the overhang. Placing his fist against the stone, he turned his face to the darkness and opened his mind.

  As it had been the last three times he had tried, the space around him was empty, the pulse was gone. He had lost contact with the energy source that he had been following when he had opened the connection with Melina.

  In a moment of weakness, he had chosen her over Benedict.

  He couldn’t let that happen again.

  Melina woke up to the sound of dripping water. She wondered dimly where she was. Was the faucet over the bathroom sink leaking again? Was she in her apartment? In a hotel? She opened her eyes to daylight and tones of sepia and gray. Were the walls in this hotel made of unfinished adobe? Strange place. The ceiling was low enough in the corner to resemble a cave. She yawned, drawing in the smell of damp stone and Anthony’s leather jacket.

  At his scent, a tickle of reaction chased through her body, kicking her pulse. Images flitted across her brain. Strange scenes, crazy feelings. Lightning on a cliff top. Anthony’s gaze hot on her face, his hands on her body, her throat aching from her scream—

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, God. Please let it be a dream. It had to be a dream. Either that or she was going insane.

  She moved her hand tentatively. Anthony’s jacket was wrapped around her from her chin to below her hips. Her knuckles brushed the edge of her own jacket and her cords. She was still fully dressed. She shifted her legs, then stifled a groan. She ached. Everywhere. As if she had run a marathon. Or attacked her partner in a sex-crazed frenzy.

  She curled her knees to her chest. A pebble rolled under the side of her foot. She was lying on a rock, she realized. She wished it would swallow her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  For a cowardly moment she wanted to pretend she was still asleep. How could she face him?

  “I know you’re awake, Melina. I can hear the change in your breathing.”

  Anthony’s voice came from behind her back. Okay, she could delay having to look at him for a while longer. She moistened her lips. She tasted salt, dust and a hint of musky spice that she immediately recognized as a trace of Anthony’s kiss. A jab of memory made her breath catch.

  His kiss. It had gone through her entire body. She hadn’t known feelings like that were possible. Sure, she was attracted to him. Strongly attracted to him. She had been for a week and it showed no signs of going away. She was drawn to his magnificent body. His brooding strength intrigued her, his intelligence and his passion challenged her, yet that didn’t justify what she had done…or what she had practically begged him to do.

  There was a soft, scraping noise, then the sound of footsteps. When Anthony spoke again, it was from directly in front of her. “Melina?”

  She clenched her jaw and opened her eyes.

  He sat cross-legged on the rock. His hair was loose. It was the first thing she noticed. Except for the strands that had occasionally escaped his ponytail, it had always been tightly controlled. Now it brushed his shoulders in thick, untamed waves, dark and sensual, making her fingers tingle with the urge to plunge into its softness.

  She curled her legs to the side and pushed herself up to sit. His jacket fell from her shoulders to the ground. She picked it up and held it out, focusing on a spot past his ear. “Where are we?”

  He took his jacket from her hand and laid it across his lap. “We’re on the other side of the plateau we climbed yesterday.”

  She latched on to the excuse to delay meeting his gaze for a while longer. She turned to look around.

  The view was breathtaking. They were high on a wide ledge of reddish-brown rock. Drops of water fell from the rim of an overhang above them to splash onto a tilting ramp that appeared to come from the top of the plateau. It was a gentle slope compared to the steep canyon wall they had ascended the day before. A series of narrower ledges fanned downward from this one like a natural staircase, tapering out on the floor of a wide, rocky valley a hundred feet below. Another cliff rose out of a forest of pine on the far side of the valley, gleaming more gold than red in the morning sunlight. The sky was a crisp, endless blue.

  She glanced at the clump of bushes on the next ledge down. This delay wasn’t an excuse, she thought as she worked her way down to them to make use of the privacy they provided. When she returned, Anthony was sitting where she had left him, his forearm propped on his raised knee.

  He flicked a pebble toward the valley. He watched it arc through the sunlight until it was out of sight. “Melina, we need to talk.”

  She chose a spot that was as far away from him as possible before she sat.

  They did need to talk. He was right about that much. She had to say something if she wanted to salvage their working relationship, but she didn’t know where to start.

  How could she possibly apologize for her conduct? She was the one who had made it clear she wanted to keep their partnership st
rictly business. She decided to give herself time to settle her nerves by beginning with a neutral topic. “It looks as if the storm cleared up.”

  “The rain started right after you fainted,” he said. “It turned the rock slippery. I didn’t want to risk carrying you back down the boulders to the Jeep so I brought you here, instead. I hope you’re not too sore from spending the night outside.”

  Melina pressed her nails into her palms. Sore? Yes, but it wasn’t only because of where she had spent the night. The rain started right after you fainted. Before yesterday, she had never fainted in her life. She had never climbed a cliff or spent the night on a rock ledge. She had never crawled up a man’s body and rubbed herself against his groin, either.

  And she had never, ever, had an orgasm powerful enough to knock her out.

  Oh, God! Heat flooded her cheeks. She hugged her knees to her chest. “Thank you. For bringing me here. I’m sorry that I…”

  Her apology refused to form. How could any woman be truly sorry for an experience like that, regardless of how it had happened? If she regretted anything, it was the fact that it had been over so fast.

  She cleared her throat. “Anthony, I really don’t know what to say about my behavior.”

  “It’s all right. I understand.”

  “No, even I don’t understand, so you couldn’t know what happened.”

  “I’m the one person who does know.” His jeans gritted against the rock as he moved closer. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I respect you too much to see you beat yourself up over this, Melina. You deserve to know the truth.”

  A tremor went through her at his touch. It wasn’t anywhere near as strong as the last time, yet it was enough to stir an echo of response. She shrugged off his hand and slid backward. “Respect? Anthony, I acted inexcusably. I threw myself at you.”

  “I’m not complaining. I enjoyed…catching you.”

  “Anthony—”

  “Don’t blame yourself. It was the storm. The energy in the lightning. That’s what you felt. It was out of your control.”