Courting Darkness

by Melynda Price

  There was a moment of hesitation before the blade left Haden’s throat, a harsh curse on Liam’s lips. “You saved her life, and now she saved yours. You come near her again and I swear to the Father I’ll kill you. There’ll be nothing she can say or do to stay my hand again. I regret not killing you when I had the chance in Vegas.”

  “If you had, she’d be dead right now and you know it.” Haden’s menacing growl was full of loathing and hidden meaning.

  A little gratitude would have gone a long way here.

  With the flick of his wrist, Liam nicked the side of Haden’s cheek with the blade as a final “fuck you.” A streak of crimson instantly flowed down his face. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Liam spat, his snarl riding the high tide of contempt. “You can wear this scar as a reminder of the female who saved your miserable life and a warning to stay the fuck away from her.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Olivia sat at the foot of the queen-size bed in the Super 8 quality motel room—legs crossed, toes anxiously tapping on the worn diamond-checkered carpet. She wasn’t exactly sure where they were, not that it mattered. She had more pressing concerns, like the fallout from today’s catastrophe. They’d traveled over two hours before stopping for the night. Liam hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the grotto with her in tow, seeming lost in a swarm of his broody thoughts.

  Oh, she had questions. A lot of them and no doubt he did too. Not the least being why had she felt compelled to save Haden’s life tonight? And to make matters worse that arrogant, sulky prick hadn’t looked the least bit grateful for it, either. Did he have a death wish or something? And what did she care if he did?

  The shower quit and the brisk jerk of the curtain rings dragging against the metal rod snapped her attention back to the here and now. Right here, right now, she had about two-hundred and fifty pounds of pissed-off angel in the other room, and she wasn’t exactly a happy camper herself. She wanted answers…like why in the hell had he not come for her earlier? Had he even come for her at all? But first things first, they could start with why in the hell had he stolen her memories?

  Olivia heard the soft snick of the lock disengage a moment before the door opened. She laughed at his arrogance. Locking the door…really? Give her a break. How desperate did he think she was? “You locked the bathroom door? Seriously? Did you think I was going to sneak in there and attack you or something?”

  He shot her a sideways glance from under the towel he used to dry his hair and grumbled, “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He let the damp cloth fall to the floor as he dragged his overly-long burgundy-black hair out of his face with an impatient swipe of his hand.

  Her cheeks flushed with the sting of embarrassment. Lord, let him be joking, she prayed, unable to tear her eyes off him as he crossed the room. The long-sleeved Henley he wore clung tightly to his damp skin, or maybe that was just his defined muscles stretching the confines of the material. The heather gray shirt hung loosely over his jeans, fitting low on his trim waist, but somehow still managing to hug all the right areas.

  “You left me.” The words flew from her mouth, sharp and accusing, before she could bite them back.

  He froze. Seconds passed and he didn’t move—she doubted he even breathed. Then his dark violet eyes snapped to hers, brows scrunched in a surly scowl. Despite the impulse to look away, she held his gaze defiantly, refusing to cow to the cranky angel. She’d done nothing wrong. If anyone should be explaining themselves, it was him.

  After a moment, he looked away and snatched his duffle bag off the floor, shoving his soiled clothes inside with a lot more force than necessary. “It wasn’t like I had a choice,” his response, short and brittle. “You think I wanted this?”

  “I think if you’d wanted to be here, you would have been here.” Olivia raised her voice to cover the hitch. To hell with rational and reasonable, she wanted answers. “Where were you?” she demanded.

  With a growled curse, he tossed his duffle into the chair across the room. It slammed into the back cushion, toppling it over. Before the chair crashed to the floor, the thing defied gravity and righted itself. No, it didn’t, Olivia suddenly realized, looking back at Liam, whose irate scowl tore away from the furniture to level on her. He’d just moved that chair with his mind. Refusing to be side-tracked, she marched up to him, tipped her head back, and meeting his steely glare, demanded again, “Where were you?”

  “In prison. And I assure you, it’s no more pleasant in Heaven than here.”

  She hadn’t expected that answer, though she knew it was true or he wouldn’t have been able to say it. Although her mind clamored with questions over his betrayal, now didn’t quite seem like the best time to bring it up. Jumping tracks on him, she voiced her observation. “You’re mad at me.”

  Sighing, he took hold of her shoulders and leaned closer, meeting her at eye level. “I’m not mad at you, Olivia. I’m concerned. Do you...” He cleared his throat as if his next words were too detestable to voice. “Do you have feelings for Haden?”

  “Of course not!” she derided the denial perhaps a bit too quickly. When he didn’t look convinced, she amended, “Not like you’re thinking, anyway. It’s just...” She sighed, at a loss for words. How could she begin to explain something she didn’t even understand, herself? Turning away, she paced a path from the door to the window, then back to him. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Try me.”

  Interpretation: Tell me, anyway. “I feel sorry for him, Liam. Did you know he was in love? All this…vengeance, all this time, all these years… It’s been over the love of a woman. I think someone killed her. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for him. So, I gotta think that anyone who’s capable of that kind of love can’t be all that bad, right?”

  Liam’s silence neither confirmed nor denied her hope. After a moment, he said, “And just where do you think his fixation will center once he’s dealt his justice?”

  She shrugged, unable to see where Liam was going with this. Honestly, she’d never given it any thought, nor did she particularly care.

  “It’s you, Olivia. You will become his next obsession.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Even as she scoffed at the thought, she couldn’t deny the chill creeping up her spine at the possibility Liam was right.

  Switching subjects off Haden, she commented thoughtfully, “You know you’re nothing like the Liam I read about in my journal. I look at you and I wonder…did I ever even know you at all? And my dreams—”

  “What about your dreams?” he interrupted, his grip on her arms tightening ever-so-slightly. He couldn’t be aware of the strength in which he held her immobile, for she knew in her heart he’d never intentionally harm her. “Olivia, are you remembering me?” His urgent demand made her pulse quicken to a dizzying tempo.

  “I…I don’t know,” she stammered. “For all I know, they’re just dreams—imaginations I’ve contrived in my mind that may never have happened.”

  “Tell me.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks at his urgent command. Put those dreams to voice?—never. She couldn’t possibly repeat such things, and even though her heart no longer ached with gnawing grief, her head still thought of him as a stranger—albeit a stunningly gorgeous stranger.

  Liam moved closer, towering over her. His dark violet stare turned a smoldering sapphire as he leaned in, using his body to pin her against the wall. He planted his palms on each side of her head, as if he no longer trusted himself to touch her.

  Dipping his face close enough that she could feel his breath skate across her neck, he whispered, “Tell me what you dreamed.”

  Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t speak. Closing her eyes against the intensity of his gaze, she shook her head. “I can’t… It’s not proper.”

  A wicked chuckle rumbled in his chest, a primal, masculine sound no angel should ever make. It flittered over her flesh like an aberrant caress, sending goose bumps scattering up her arms.
His voice was a husky droll, made all the more sultry by his heavenly accent.

  “Tell me… Were we in the shower together? Were your hands soaping my naked body, Olivia?—tracing my scars with your fingertips… Did you kiss the marks of my absent wings, taste the flesh stretched taut between my shoulder blades? When your teeth nipped at my flank, I thought I’d lost myself right then and there…”

  Oh Lord, it wasn’t a dream! Hearing Liam describe it to her in intimate detail made a fire spark deep in her core, her body aching to reenact that night all over again. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of need flooding her veins. Had she called him a stranger? He was hardly that… Olivia suspected he knew her body far better than she knew her own.

  “It was the first time I ever let you touch me like that. Your hands were exploring every inch of my—”

  “Two by four,” she blurted anxiously.

  His brow arched in wry amusement, a seductive grin pulling at his top lip to reveal a gorgeous set of perfect white teeth. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it that, but—”

  She exhaled a shaky sigh, uncertain if it was nerves or something else, but it was hard as hell to think straight with six and a half feet of muscle pressing in on her. “No, not that. I told you I was going to hit you with a two by four. Why would I do that?”

  His dark, seductive chuckle stirred intimate places deep inside her, awakening unfamiliar desires. However, without her memories—all of them—it felt like she was living in someone else’s mind, in some else’s body.

  “You were teasing me because I was able to touch you without fear of hurting you. I was healing from an injury, so my energy was contained.” His husky voice turned to a low hungry growl as he reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you remember me, Olivia? Do you dream of my touch? Shall I tell you of all the ways you became mine that night?—over and over again… Or perhaps you want me to show you?”

  A shiver of anticipation raced up her spine. An overwhelming part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms. He hovered so close, his breath burned hot against her neck—with a scant turn of her head, she’d find his lips. Was he waiting for her? Waiting for her to make the first move of full contact?

  It was tempting, to be sure. He was physical perfection, from his hard-lined jaw to those smoldering sapphire eyes that held a keen awareness that seemed almost predatory. As his scent enveloped her in a cocoon of dark muted spices, her tension seemed to dissipate, almost as if he’d cast a spell over her.

  Her instincts were taking over where her mind failed her, but could she trust them? Better question, could she trust him? Her heart said yes, her body said hell yes!—but her head, that was another question entirely. He’d already betrayed her once. Even if he thought his actions were justifiable, betrayal was still betrayal. Who was to say he wouldn’t do it again? And should she put herself in that position?

  “They’re just dreams…” she denied. “I don’t remember you, Liam. After what you did to me, I’d be a fool to let myself fall in love with you again.”

  His head shot up, eyes locking on hers with an intensity that would have sent her shrinking back if she’d had anywhere to go. The amethyst hue cresting his sapphire gaze told her all she needed to know.

  “After what I did to you? I saved your life, Olivia. And you’re still in love with me. You just don’t realize it yet.”

  He reached for her in a blur of movement, his hand slipping abound the back of her neck. She didn’t have time to avoid his grasp, even if she’d wanted to, which she wasn’t entirely sure she did.

  Without hesitation, his mouth came crashing down on hers—hot, possessive, and as unyielding as his hold on her. Olivia gasped in surprise as his tongue boldly sought hers. The way his lips moved against her mouth was so intimate—so sensual… She’d never been kissed like this—ever. Well, not that she could remember, she added sullenly. Never had anything tasted this good—this right.

  Liquid fire flooded her veins, fueling the ache deep in her core. It felt scandalous to be in the arms of someone she didn’t know, didn’t remember. But at the same time, it felt so incredibly right. On a ragged inhale, she drew his breath deep into her lungs and exhaled on a moan of ecstasy. His answering groan was one of pure male torment.

  The longer he kissed her, the more she could feel her memories trying to resurface. His hands circled her waist, sliding up the back of her shirt as he pulled her closer, enveloping her in his powerful embrace. Never had she felt more cherished, more loved…but those remembrances battering her mind failed to breach her veil of amnesia.

  Her pulse quickened at his touch, her body responding to every stroke of his tongue and glide of his hands. Had they had sex before? It burned like acid in her throat that she couldn’t remember. Perhaps she should have let him get into greater detail about their night together. The night that kept haunting her dreams in unsynchronized snapshots of ecstasy.

  His touch wasn’t hurting her now. Why not? Was he hurt? Had Haden injured him at the grotto? So many questions flooded her mind, yet she couldn’t pull herself from the bliss of his kiss long enough to put voice to any of them.

  It felt so wonderful to be free of that gnawing ache in her heart. The heavy weight of loss that plagued her spirit had finally lifted. She may not know him, but her heart most certainly did. As if her arms had a will of their own, they circled his neck, fingers threading into his overgrown locks. Mercy, his hair felt like silk… She should stop this—before things got out of hand—before it was too late. They needed to talk. She had so many questions, deserved so many more answers, but damn this felt good. He felt so right in her arms, all she wanted to do was hang on and never let go. Was she mad at him?—hell yeah, she was still pissed. But every emotion raging inside her suddenly took a back seat to the overpowering love flooding every fiber of her being—desire consumed her, burning her veins to ash.

  In that moment, she willingly gave herself over to her heart, knowing full well that the trust she was placing in him at this moment would forever make or break their relationship. If he ever hurt her again, ever betrayed the fragile thread of trust growing between them right now, there would be no going back.

  Olivia returned his kiss with mounting abandon, and when his lips left hers to descend on her neck, her breaths came in short, gasping pants. “Wait, Liam?” She hated asking, but she had to know. “Have we done this before?”

  He stilled, slowly lifting his head to meet her eyes. The golden-amber regret slowly bleeding into his sapphire gaze made her heart ache. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he was going to answer. But then, he spoke, his voice as aridly broken as she felt.

  “That depends. What do you want to happen here, Olivia?”

  How could she answer that? Was he giving her a choice? Was he offering himself to her? Dare she hope?—and was she prepared to give her body to him? “Have we? Have we…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. It felt so wrong she should even have to ask.

  His brow arched expectantly—waiting for her to finish. Heat rushed to her cheeks. The rapid pounding of her heart echoed in her ears. His top lip tugged into a coy grin. “Have we what?” he whispered.

  She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, her voice failing as she squeaked, “Are you really going to make me say it?”

  Growing serious, he reached up and took her face in his hands, gently tipping it up to meet his marbled gaze. “I’m not going to make you do anything, Olivia. If you’re asking me if we’ve ever made love, then that depends on your definition of the word. I’ve given you all of myself that I was able to because I love you and will want no other as long as I draw breath. If you’re asking me if you’re still a virgin, then the answer is also yes. When I was your guardian, we were bonded, so my energy was transferrable to you. Mating was a physical impossibility.”

  “And now?” She needed to hear him say it.

  He exhaled a sigh of frustration and roughly dragged his hand through his hair.
“Fuck, Olivia, I’ve made so many mistakes with you—”

  “And now?” she repeated, knowing he couldn’t lie to her, even if he wanted to.

  “I’m all yours…if you still want me.”

  Did he think, for even a second, there was a part of her that wouldn’t? “Of course I want you, Liam. All of you…”

  Reaching behind his head, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it at his feet. Holy hell, he was gorgeous—definably muscled and chiseled to perfection. Before he could step closer, her hands rose to his chest. As if they had a mind and a will of their own, she reached out and starting at his collarbones, slowly slid her hands down his chest, tracing the sculpted muscles of his pecks and the roped ridges of his abdomen. His answering growl of approval was a low seductive timbre she felt all the way to her bones. Her pulse clamored in her chest, adrenaline flooding her veins. Heat flushed her cheeks, spreading to her core that slowly began to ache with mounting desire as she glanced down, taking in the whole of him. A large scar marred his left side. Instinctively, she knew the mark was significant, but couldn’t remember why. Reaching out, she brushed her thumb across the old wound, his muscles tensing in response to her feather-light touch.

  Looking up into his dark sapphire gaze, she confessed, “I wish I could remember you.”

  “So do I, Olivia. God knows, if I could I’d give you those memories back. But I can’t—not anymore—and it kills me to stand here, wanting you like I do, knowing you don’t have a fucking clue who in the hell I am. I did this to spare you the pain of letting me go—to keep you safe from Haden. I never thought I’d lose you for it. And since I have…I can’t feel you any more, Olivia—”

  The ache in her heart returned with a swift punch as the pain in his voice shattered her soul.

  “God help me, I can’t feel you anymore…” His confession broke on a ragged gasp of regret.