Raintree: Santuary

by Beverly Barton

  “I’ll speak to her and explain that, for the present, we need to keep that fact our little secret.”

  “Judah Blackstone, huh?”

  “It’s as good a name as any.” She turned and headed toward the front porch steps. “I’m going up to say good-night to Eve. Are you coming with me?”

  “Yes, I’m coming with you.” He followed her onto the porch and into the house. Once inside the foyer, he asked, “Did you have an old boyfriend named Blackstone? Do I need to be jealous?”

  Taken off guard by his question, she snapped around and scowled at him.

  Judah chuckled. “Don’t Raintree have a sense of humor?”

  “I don’t see anything humorous in our relationship. You and I are enemies who find ourselves temporarily bound together in a common cause-to save our daughter. But once she is no longer in danger…” Mercy walked away from him, heading for the stairs.

  He came up behind her and clutched her elbow. She stopped dead still but didn’t look back at him. Now, as in the past, his touch heated her blood, warming her as if a fire had been lit deep inside her. She tilted her head and glanced over her shoulder. He was too close, his chest brushing against her back.

  He leaned his head low and whispered, “When Eve is no longer in danger, you know that you and I can’t share her. She will become either Ansara or Raintree, the outcome decided by which of us kills the other. That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?”

  “If you would swear to go away and leave us alone, to never contact Eve again, it wouldn’t have to end that way. Eve wouldn’t have to grow up knowing her mother killed her father.”

  “Or that her father killed her mother.”

  Mercy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Judah had no qualms about killing her to obtain custody of his child. If only she were as heartless. If only she could kill him without regrets.

  “My sweet Mercy.” Judah snaked his arm around her waist and jerked her roughly against him, her back to his chest, her buttocks to his erection.

  No, this couldn’t be. Fight your feelings, she told herself. Don’t succumb to the desire eating you alive, screaming inside you to give yourself to him.

  “I find the fact that you are capable of both saving lives and taking them extremely exciting,” Judah told her, his breath hot on her neck. “You, my love, are quite the paradox, a healer and a warrior.” His lips grazed her neck with a series of seductive kisses. “You love me and you hate me. You want me to live and yet you are willing to kill me to save Eve.” His tongue replaced his lips as he painted a damp path from her collarbone to her ear.

  Immobilized by her own need, Mercy closed her eyes, savoring this wicked man’s touch. His hand crept upward from the front of her waist to her breast. She shuddered as pure electrical sensation shot through her body. While he kneaded her breast through the barriers of her blouse and bra, his fingertips worked against her nipple.

  Whimpering, Mercy rested the back of her head against his shoulder.

  Put a stop to this now, the sensible part of her brain demanded. But the needs of her woman’s body overruled common sense.

  While his tongue circled her ear, Judah drove his hand between Mercy’s thighs and stroked her intimately through the soft cotton of her slacks and panties. “You belong to me. I own you, Mercy Raintree. You’re mine.”

  Mercy cried out, fighting his hypnotic hold over her and her own wanton needs.

  Breaking free, she fled, running away from a temptation almost too powerful to deny.

  Midnight. The witching hour. And Mercy was bewitched. Entranced by memories of a chance meeting seven years ago. She had never admitted to another soul how those exhilarating hours haunted her, how often, when she was alone at night, the image of Judah Ansara appeared to her. She had never hated anyone the way she hated him. Or loved anyone so deeply and passionately. In all this time, she hadn’t been able to reconcile her divided feelings. Love and hate. Fear and longing. Even now, she wanted him. Knowing he was an Ansara. Knowing that he didn’t love her, had never loved her. Knowing he planned to fight her-to the death-for Eve.

  If only she hadn’t insisted on that vacation alone. One week, all to herself, without Dante and Gideon, without Raintree friends guarding her, out from under Sidonia’s watchful eye. Had that been too much to ask? Aunt Gillian had thought Mercy’s request quite reasonable. As the aged guardian of the sanctuary, she’d known only too well about the great demands on Mercy’s time and talents that lay ahead for her when she became the keeper of the home place.

  A great empath herself, Gillian had gifted Mercy with the ability not to sense other people’s thoughts and emotions on a deep level while on her vacation. Like many other gifts, that one had a nine-day shelf-life.

  And so Mercy had gone out into the world alone, ready to experience life without the curse of being bombarded by the thoughts and emotions of everyone around her. For those nine days, she wouldn’t be a Raintree princess. She wouldn’t be a talented empath. She could enjoy being young and pretty and unguarded.

  Mercy had no way of knowing that with her abilities muted, she would be unable to recognize danger when it swept her off her feet. Literally. A waiter by the pool at the resort where she was vacationing had lost his footing and plunged into a guest, who in turn set off a chain reaction, sending tables, drinks, chairs and people flying. From out of nowhere, someone had swooped Mercy up into his arms, saving her from becoming one more domino-effect casualty.

  Wearing a bikini for the first time in her life, Mercy had felt naked as her flesh had pressed against the overpoweringly masculine chest belonging to the man who had rescued her. After grabbing him around the neck and clinging to him, she had gazed into his eyes-as cold and gray as a winter sky. He hadn’t set her on her feet immediately, but had held her, smiling broadly, the warmth of his big, hard body heating her inside and out.

  Pressing her fingertips against her temples, Mercy closed her eyes and huffed loudly. “Get out of my head, damn you, Judah Ansara.”

  She had tried to erase him from her memory, had even been tempted to use a spell to eliminate all thoughts of him. But she hadn’t dared go to such extreme lengths. Only she and Sidonia knew that Eve was half Ansara, and Sidonia alone could not have protected Eve.

  Mercy tossed back the sheet and light blanket covering her, then got out of bed, opened the door and crept quietly across the hall. Eve’s door, as always, had been left open. Mercy stepped over the threshold and stood there watching her daughter sleep.

  If I had never met Judah…If we hadn’t been lovers…

  Eve wouldn’t exist.

  She heard Judah’s voice inside her head. Eve was meant to be.

  If she believed nothing else Judah had ever said, she believed that. Their daughter’s life was preordained. But for what reason?

  The fact that Mercy had conceived during their one night of passionate lovemaking was practically a miracle, what with her having used a temporary sexual protection spell and Judah having been gifted with sexual protection by his cousin. With double protection, conception should have been impossible.

  Gifted by his cousin. Gifted!

  My God! Why hadn’t she immediately realized the implication of the word the moment Judah had said “a long-term gift that my cousin Claude and I have been exchanging since we were teenagers”?

  In the Raintree clan, only royals had the power to gift charms. Why would it be any different with the Ansara? The ability was ancient, from the time of their eldest ancestors who had lived thousands of years ago, from a time when the Raintree and Ansara had been one.

  Was Judah a royal Ansara?

  If he was, then she had far more to fear than just a mere Ansara male wanting to claim his child. If Judah was a prince…

  No, he couldn’t be. The Ansara were no longer a great clan with a powerful Dranir and Dranira, with a royal family of children, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins. Perhaps Judah possessed royal blood, and had the Ansara won The Battle two h
undred years ago, he might today be a mighty prince. That would explain him being able to gift charms and exchange them with a cousin.

  But she didn’t intend to leave anything to chance. Tomorrow she would confront him with her doubts. For Eve’s sake, she had to find out the truth.

  TWELVE

  Mercy waited until after breakfast before requesting a private conversation with Judah. To keep Eve occupied and away from the house, she had sent her daughter with Sidonia to take fresh baked goods to the visitors occupying the cabins. Although the kitchens in all the units were well stocked, Sidonia enjoyed sharing her homemade breads, muffins, cakes and pies with their guests. Being a gregarious, curious child, Eve liked nothing better than to meet various members of the Raintree tribe, so this Thursday morning outing with her nanny was a real treat for her.

  Alone in the study with Judah, Mercy braced herself for the inevitable magnetic pull that drew her to him. If she denied their sexual connection, she would be lying to herself. What she could and would do was fight that attraction. During the years since she had seen him, she had convinced herself that what she’d felt for him during their brief time together hadn’t been as passionately exciting as she remembered. But those moments on the stairs last night had proven otherwise. The extraordinary chemistry between them could still make her weak and vulnerable, two things a Raintree never wanted to be around an Ansara.

  “Go ahead. Get it over with.” Judah’s eyes twinkled with mischievous delight, his expression similar to Eve’s when she was up to no good.

  Mercy squared her shoulders. “Just what do you think I’m going to say or do?”

  “I assume you’re going to rip into me about what happened between us last night. So go ahead and tell me that you won’t allow it to happen again. Lay down the law. Show me who’s boss.”

  She would like nothing better than to wipe that cocky grin off his face and was tempted to give him a psychic slap. But that would only prove how easily he could rile her. She certainly had no intention of giving him the satisfaction.

  Ignoring his deliberate attempt to get a reaction, she asked, “How is it possible that you and your cousin are able to gift charms?”

  “What?”

  Well, that had wiped the smile off his face, hadn’t it? She had surprised him with her question.

  “Are you talking about the sexual protection that Claude and I…?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that only royals have the power to gift charms. Are you a royal? If so, that means there’s an Ansara royal family, right?”

  He didn’t respond immediately, which bothered her. He was giving serious thought to his reply. Thinking up a plausible lie? she wondered.

  “You must know that there’s always been a royal Ansara family. One of the old Dranir’s daughters, Princess Melisande, survived The Battle, married, and had children and grandchildren and so forth. To answer your other questions, yes, Claude and I have royal blood, or so our parents told us.”

  “Are you a prince?”

  “No.”

  Was he lying to her? Did she dare believe him?

  “Where is your home?” she asked.

  “Why the sudden interest in my personal life? If you’re asking for Eve’s sake, then I can tell you I’m strong, healthy, mentally sound and possess all the powers of a royal.”

  “Why are you reluctant to tell me where you live?”

  “I live all over the world. I’m an international businessman, an offshore banker, with interests in numerous countries.”

  “And the other Ansara-how many are there? Where do the Dranir and Dranira reside? Are your people scattered throughout the world as we Raintree are?”

  “What few of us there are keep a low profile,” Judah told her. “We are not prepared to confront the Raintree and do nothing to call attention to ourselves.”

  “But you did, didn’t you? Seven years ago, you deliberately seduced a Raintree princess. I’d say that’s calling attention to yourself.”

  “But at the time, you didn’t know I was Ansara. And if you had not conceived my child, you never would have known.”

  What he said was true enough and yet a sense of foreboding clenched her stomach muscles, creating a sick feeling in her gut. Was it possible that in only two hundred years, the Ansara had rebuilt their clan enough to actually pose a threat to the Raintree? Surely not. If the Ansara were once again a mighty people, the Raintree would know. One of the Raintrees’ many psychics would have sensed the Ansaras’ escalating power. Unless…Unless they had deliberately shielded themselves from detection with a mass protection spell…But was that even possible?

  “What about your Dranir and Dranira?” Mercy asked.

  “So many questions.” Judah came toward her.

  She held her ground, refusing to cower in front of him.

  “The Ansara Dranir is single,” Judah said. “Some consider him a playboy. He has a villa in the Caribbean and one in Italy, as well as homes and apartments in various places. He owns a yacht and a jet, and women swoon at his feet.”

  “Sounds like a charming guy,” Mercy said sarcastically. “And you’re related to him. From what you’ve said about him, I sense a strong similarity between you two.”

  “Like two peas in a pod.” Judah smirked. “I also manage his money for him.”

  Mercy wondered why Judah was so forthcoming with information about his Dranir and his people. Either they were, as he had told her, no threat to the Raintree, or he was telling her just enough of the truth to appear open and honest. But why should a Raintree trust an Ansara?

  Whenever Judah was this close, their bodies almost touching, Mercy found it difficult to concentrate, and he damn well knew it. Ignore the fact that your heartbeat has accelerated and your nipples have hardened, Mercy told herself. He doesn’t know that you’re moist with desire, that your body yearns for his.

  “Wouldn’t our brief time together be better spent not talking?” Judah leaned over just far enough so that they were nose to nose, mouth to mouth. “As I recall, neither of us needs words to express what we want.”

  Shivering internally, she barely managed to keep her body from shaking. Her breathing quickened. Her nostrils flared. Her feminine core clenched and unclenched.

  “Why does your brother hate you enough to kill you?”

  Her question acted as the deterrent she had hoped it would. Judah lifted his head and withdrew from her, at least far enough so that she could take a free breath.

  “I told you that Cael’s mother killed my mother. There’s been bad blood between us all our lives.”

  “If his mother killed yours, then you should be the one who hates him, the one who wants to kill him. Why is it the other way around?”

  “I’m my father’s legitimate son. Cael is not. It’s as simple as that. An insane mind needs little excuse to act irrationally.”

  Mercy told herself that she was questioning Judah to acquire needed information about the Ansara, but that was only part of her reason. Curiosity? Perhaps. All she knew was that she felt a great need to know this man, her child’s father.

  “How old were you when your mother died?” she asked.

  Judah’s jaw tensed. “My mother was murdered.” He tapered his gaze until his eyes slanted almost closed.

  Of its own volition, her hand reached over and spread out across the center of his chest, covering his heart. For one millisecond, while emotion made him vulnerable, Mercy absorbed his innermost thoughts. He had been an infant when his mother died, too young to remember her face or the sound of her voice. A small boy’s sadness lingered deep inside Judah, both a hunger for a mother’s love and a denial that he needed love from anyone.

  “I’m very sorry about your mother,” Mercy told him. “No child should grow up without a mother to love him unconditionally.”

  With his mouth twisted in a snarl, his eyes mere slits and tension etched on his features, Judah grabbed her hand and flung it off his chest. “I neither want nor need y
our sympathy.”

  Bombarded with his anger and resentment, Mercy gasped for air. The rage boiling inside him spilled over onto her, engulfing her, drowning her in its intensity. This was her fault, not his, she realized. She should have known better than offer him kindness and caring when he understood neither.

  And she shouldn’t have touched him.

  Mercy fought to free herself from the dangerous havoc Judah’s fury was creating within her. She had somehow connected to him empathically, and try as she might, she couldn’t manage to sever the link. A heaviness bore down on her chest, a weight that robbed her of breath. She gasped for air, struggling for speech to demand that he release her.

  Judah grabbed her shoulders. “What’s wrong with you?”

  She managed to expel a gasping moan.

  “Mercy!” He shook her.

  She felt herself growing weaker by the minute, her oxygen supply cut off as if she were being smothered. Help me. Please, Judah, help me.

  Tell me what to do.

  Barely conscious, Mercy swayed toward him. Don’t be angry with me. Don’t hate me.

  I did this to you?

  He caught her as her knees gave way, swooping her up in his arms. “Sweet Mercy.”

  Closing her eyes, she sank to a level just below consciousness. Judah lowered his head and pressed his cheek against hers as he held her securely. As swiftly as his negative energy had invaded her mind and body, it dissipated, draining from her as it drained from him. She felt a flash of concern and genuine regret before he swiftly placed a protective barrier between them.

  Weak from the experience and recovering slowly, Mercy opened her eyes and met Judah’s concerned gaze.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he told her.

  “It was my fault,” she said. “I let my guard down.”

  “That’s a dangerous thing to do, especially around me.”

  She nodded. “Would you please put me down now? I’ll be all right.”

  “Are you sure? I could-”