by Tawny Taylor
Any second now.
He inched closer and she held her breath.
Her eyelids shuttered closed, and a comforting blackness cut off her sight, allowing her other senses to amplify. She could hear the soft, steady whoosh of his breathing. And the nerves in her neck and shoulders jangled from the fleeting touch of his knuckles as they scraped across her nape.
“You’re beautiful.” He was so close that his words fell like puffs of sweet-scented air on her mouth. “Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this…?”
“Do what?” she whispered, fully intending the words to be an invitation. Hot and tight, her body reacted to the sensations raining upon it like a spring shower—the erotic hunger she heard in his voice, the scent of his skin, the almost cruelly soft way he held her hair. She licked her lips, tasting the lingering flavor of wine. His mouth gently caressed hers, and she sagged against the loveseat’s arm, drowning in sensual heat.
His fingers splayed, supporting the back of her head. He traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue, not exactly begging entrance but more or less making his intentions clear.
She eagerly opened, welcoming the sweet invasion. His tongue swept into her mouth, gliding over hers, a show of raw male possession. The fingers holding her head gently kneaded her scalp as his tongue and lips worked magic.
A kiss had never been so devastating. Her mind—usually delighted to scream all kinds of shoulds and shouldn’ts—went totally silent.
Wherever this was going, she wasn’t about to fight it.
He broke the kiss for an agonizing second or two. “Damn, you taste good.” He stood, walked around the end of the couch and paced back and forth once, twice, a third time. His head down, he shoved his fingers through his hair. “Dammit.”
“Is something wrong?”
His head jerked up. His eyes found hers. “Yes. No.” He charged toward her, caging her head between his outstretched arms. “You taste so sweet, like honey. I want more.”
A soft moan slipped between her lips, and a little tremor raced up her spine. “Yes, more,” she pleaded, relinquishing to the desire swirling through her. “Kiss me again.” Oh, how beautiful he made her feel as he looked down upon her with flames flickering in his dark eyes. Pretty but also vulnerable and overpowered. It was a thrilling combination.
He climbed overtop of her, wedging one knee between her hip and the back of the loveseat and balancing the other one on the edge of the cushion. Bending his arms, he levered lower, until the heat radiating from his bulk warmed her simmering body and his mouth hovered over hers again. She closed her eyes and let her entire being focus on the place where his mouth met hers, and their tongues mated.
With every stab and stroke, the warmth in her body edged up another degree and the tension coiling deep in her belly knotted tighter. And yet she couldn’t stop, couldn’t stand the thought of tearing her mouth from his, even if it meant she’d burn up from fever or die from heart failure.
Never had she been kissed by a man like this, so incredibly strong and striking.
Dizzy. Hot.
She reached up and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down, anxious to feel his hard body pressed firmly against hers, his hips wedged between her spread thighs.
A pounding ache was gathering there, in her center, and she rocked her hips, desperate to grind it away, hoping he wouldn’t deny her the pleasure his kisses were promising.
Another sensual brush of his mouth across hers and then he straightened up, pulling her with him until she was sitting completely vertically, and his bent legs were straddling her tight and trembling thighs.
She watched, breathless, as he swallowed and smiled down at her.
He shook his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
Oh God, he was apologizing. That was the last thing she wanted. It had been such a long time since a man had looked at her like that—like a desirable, sexy woman. Touched her. Talked to her with a voice gritty with barely contained wanting.
“I’m not sorry,” she stated matter-of-factly. Her heart lurched in her chest when she realized she was going to actually admit she’d been attracted to him all this time. Guys didn’t like to hear stuff like that. Her words just might send him running.
She knew a woman on the hunt tended to do that to men—turn them into skittery cowards. She’d watched her mother chase away enough good guys to have learned that lesson early. They liked things to go the other way. She did too. But for some reason, she sensed Talen needed to know she was okay with this, that she held no expectations other than those promised in his touches and kisses.
“I noticed you the very first day you moved into the building,” she whispered. “I’ve waited, hoping, wanting…” Oh God, she sounded so sappy. “Not that I’m expecting anything. But I wanted you to know I don’t feel taken advantage of here. Okay? I’m not letting this happen because I’m feeling scared or vulnerable right now. I’ve wanted this—whatever this might be—for a while. Because I think you’re the most intriguing man I’ve ever met.”
He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her lip, and she stared up into his eyes, wishing she could read whatever secrets she saw in their shadowed depths. She knew he was struggling with something and wished she could find the right words to put whatever inner battle he was waging to rest.
Talen shifted backward, simultaneously swinging off the loveseat. Shaking his head, he reached down and plucked one of Keri’s delicate little hands up in his. This was so wrong, letting himself succumb to his desire for the angelic woman he’d been charged to protect. If he let things continue, the end would be disastrous.
If only…
“There are so many things about me you don’t know,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
To bed. That was where he needed to take her. He needed to put her in bed and leave, close the door, and walk away. Even if it meant he’d spend the rest of the night pacing the floor from the agony racking his body.
Keri was different than the others. He couldn’t say what it was about her, but he felt something when she was near. A sense of…completion. Of peace and calm. In his long and anguish-riddled life, he’d had so few moments of peace, it was foreign to him, almost uncomfortable.
Why Keri? Why now?
The end was near. He felt it move closer with every second that ticked by. Soon, he’d face that moment, when it would be either her life or his, and the darkness would take him, and for a brief instant he’d be free. Until the blaze engulfed him in agony once again, and he was set back upon the earth to do it all over.
Live, die, regenerate. It was a cycle he was powerless to escape. His destiny. His curse. And his blessing.
He was the legendary Black Phoenix, a prince who had been cursed by the gods for having been too blinded by lust to make the right choice when it mattered most. Now, thanks to that curse, he would forever burn with lust. Because he could never experience true love, the profound joy of giving his heart to a woman.
There was no time. His cycle in any one place was so brief, weeks at the most. And even if there was time to get to know a woman, to do so would mean her certain destruction. No woman deserved to watch the man she loved lay down his life. Not if it could be avoided.
He’d tried to slake his baser needs once. But the results…the woman had killed herself after watching him die. The tragedy had taught him a painful lesson. His future would be an eternity of isolation and loneliness. A hell he couldn’t have imagined when he’d first been cursed.
The only comfort he took was in knowing he would save a life every time he regenerated. Just like now. Keri would live…because he would die.
Chapter Two
Keri stood at the door, the knob in her fist, confused and torn. The sensible part of her knew it was pretty damn stupid leaving Talen’s safe apartment to return to her own. If she was in any real danger, that was.
But another part—the one ruled by emotion—couldn’t stand the
thought of staying in this place another minute. Everything here was like a painful reminder of the firm, albeit gentle, rebuff he’d given her.
Rejection sucked.
So what if she didn’t know all his deep, dark secrets? Why should that keep a man from enjoying a little carnal pleasure? She wasn’t a prude. She wasn’t a slut either, but she didn’t have to know a guy’s life story before she had sex with him. Heck, when things were just getting started, a little mystery was good. It made her feel tingly and warm all over. Especially with a man like Talen, who emitted this kind of darkly predatory aura she found so sexy.
She’d be the first to admit, she tended to attract players. That was because of her fascination with men who were a little distant and closed off, strong and unattainable. One of her friends had tried to tell her she was actually playing it safe, going after men like that.
She probably was.
Of course, she didn’t explain to said friend that life had taught her the kind of vulnerability that came with true love was too scary and dangerous. She wasn’t ready to go there yet. Might never be.
Now what? Let her ego get the best of her and leave, facing an uncertain danger? Or stay there and be a houseguest to a man with a body that made her weak in the knees…and a conscience that made her want to beg?
Well, darn it, did she really know for a fact that Mark was out to harm her? Maybe he’d just broken in to get something he’d thought he’d left behind? What that might be, she had no clue. They hadn’t spent any length of time in her apartment during the few dates they’d shared.
Mark? Dangerous? Was her imagination running amok, making her think the worst?
He’d stalked her. There was no denying that. He’d harassed her, begged her to take him back. But he’d never directly threatened to harm her. Nor had he behaved in a brutal or openly aggressive manner. Which was why she hadn’t been able to get a judge to grant a PPO. There’d been no threats. No violence. Just annoyances, which were evidently not against the law.
Leave it to an attorney to know exactly how to tiptoe along that fine line between legal and illegal.
She released the doorknob and slumped back on the bed. She needed to think logically, here. First, she was ninety-nine percent sure the man who had let himself into her place was Mark. He hadn’t damaged or stolen anything. Chances were he wasn’t up to something sinister, just annoying. If he had a criminal record, she had to trust that the police would’ve told her, or the judge would have approved the PPO.
This was silly. She’d let her imagination run wild.
If she was in no real danger, she didn’t need a bodyguard. Especially one who was messing with her head by sending mixed signals.
She threw her overnight bag over her shoulder and headed for the door again, this time certain she was doing the right thing. Mark didn’t deserve to be given so much power over her life, and Talen didn’t need to be put out by an unwanted guest.
Talen jackknifed up, instantly alert, his senses sharp.
The killer was close. Too close.
Keri?
He launched himself from the couch and ran to the bedroom.
Empty. Dammit.
He rubbed at the burning skin at his nape, the friction only inflaming the scorching sensation. It was time, already. He’d had very few hours with her. To think it had to end so soon. He’d come to her the minute he’d learned of her identity.
The gods were cruel. They’d waited until practically the last minute before revealing her identity to him.
He’d never learn what secrets she hid in those shadowed eyes of hers, what made her laugh, or even what her favorite food was…
Unless… He hadn’t tried delaying the inevitable. Testing fate. Defying the gods.
Hurry.
He spun around and bolted across his apartment, focused on the door. Out he went, into the corridor. Silently, he crept down the hallway.
Her door was ajar, and he could hear scuffling noises, struggling, Keri’s muffled voice.
No. Dammit! It was too late. He wouldn’t be able to halt the chain of events now.
His heart in his throat, he peered through the gap between the door and frame, catching sight of her assailant, the flash of a large blade, and her little struggling form. Without thinking, he shoved open the door and threw himself at Keri’s captor, who pivoted, calmly, coolly, and placed a hunting knife across Keri’s throat.
“Get. Out,” the attacker growled.
Keri’s tear-filled eyes met Talen’s, and for an agonizing moment, he prayed he’d somehow make it out of this one alive, even if it meant he’d die tomorrow anyway.
Just one more day with her, hearing her voice, looking at her face. One more day to make things right. To try to explain why he’d rejected her last night.
Shit, it was too soon.
He’d been cheated out of the chance to tell her how he felt. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last either. His curse made sure he never had the chance to love another human being again. He’d known that a long while, even come to accept it. But with this woman, his Keri, it was a hundred times more agonizing.
No, goddamnit. He was being selfish. Keri didn’t need to understand him. Or care. She needed to survive and move on.
The attacker’s fingers tightened on the knife’s handle. “I said, get the hell out.”
The guy didn’t want to kill Keri. Talen could see the hesitation in his eyes. Of course, he was destined to. Today. Now. Talen decided to use the attacker’s uncertainty to his advantage.
Talen met the man’s glare. “No.”
Stalemate.
Keri’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her body went rigid then soft. Talen could read the subtle changes in her posture. The attacker could feel them too. He glanced down, and that was all the time Talen needed. He lunged forward at the same instant that Keri’s body slipped from the attacker’s grip.
The knife surged forward, and Talen braced himself for the pain. This was it, the end. There’d be the physical agony. But that was nothing compared to the hell of being yet again yanked away from someone who knew his name, recognized the fact that he existed.
A heartbeat later, the pain still hadn’t come. Shaking himself out of a daze, Talen realized the attacker had knocked Keri unconscious with a fist, the other one, still gripping the knife, was rising to deliver a final, deadly blow.
He saw red.
Talen threw himself at the assailant, his target the knife. He twisted mid-air, diving between the weapon and Keri’s still body. He landed on top of her, his vision locked on the gleaming tip of the blade as it made its descent.
His heart lurched.
He’d be dead in a few seconds, and Keri would never know…
No! Have mercy.
Instead of taking the blade in his chest and ending it like he should, Talen threw himself away, pulling Keri with him, and plowing into the side of the armed man’s leg. A sickening snap filled the tense silence and the attacker stumbled then lurched toward the door. Desperate to capture the would-be killer, Talen jerked around but he toppled over a fallen lamp before he got his feet beneath him. The man staggered out the door and was down the hall before Talen could get vertical.
Now what had he done?
Angered the gods, for one. Who knew what would happen next.
If he’d died, Keri’s attacker would’ve died with him, somehow, whether it was by an injury Talen had caused in the battle or a seeming act-of-fate. That was the way the magic worked. Instead, the attacker was still alive, and plotting his next move.
The danger wasn’t over. Keri’s suffering not even close to being finished.
His fault.
Swamped in guilt, Talen knelt beside Keri and gazed down at her face. She looked like she was sleeping. Eyes closed. Glossy hair fanned around her head like a glittering halo. Expression peaceful.
The peace would end the moment she regained consciousness. And the nightmare would begin.
His fau
lt.
He’d been weak, and look what it would cost them both.
For the first time in over two thousand years, he wept.
It took several minutes for Keri to fully wake up and remember what had happened.
Oh my God, it had been like a scene straight out of a Lifetime movie! She’d just gone to bed when she’d heard a noise. The next thing she knew, a strange man was standing next to her bed, saying things she didn’t understand.
She’d run. Made it as far as the living room. He’d caught her. Talen came bursting into her apartment. Right about then, she’d started seeing stars, thanks to the terror. And her head felt like it had exploded. The rest was hazy. But not forgotten.
A nightmare had woken her up.
Bathed in sweat and gasping, she threw off the covers and lurched forward. “Where am I?”
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I brought you back to my place.” Talen appeared out of the thick darkness and immediately pulled her into his arms. She stiffened for a split second, unable to help herself. But the edge of her terror softened by his steady strength and warmth, she relaxed against him.
She wanted to thank him, but her throat was closed up too tightly and her teeth chattered. All that escaped was an occasional stifled sob. She tried to control the quaking but couldn’t. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, that the air wasn’t getting into her lungs fast enough. Her head started spinning again as the horrifying scene in her apartment played over and over in her mind.
He held her tenderly, smoothing a hand up and down her back. A simple gesture but so appreciated. He said nothing, just held her. Finally, after who knew how long, the spinning slowed. The air moved in and out of her lungs easier. The shuddering eased.
She tipped her head to look at his face.
His lips were pulled into a thin line, his eyes dark.
“It wasn’t who I thought,” she whispered.
“Who?”
She shivered. “The man who attacked me. I didn’t know him. What’s going on?”