The Redemption Series

Home > Other > The Redemption Series > Page 36
The Redemption Series Page 36

by Melynda Price


  “I don’t need to rest, remember?”

  His eyes ran over her, giving away nothing as to the thoughts running through his head. His emotions were locked down so tight it was like staring at a stranger—a very gorgeous, very powerful stranger.

  She sighed, her exhale heavy with regret. How had they come to this? “I know,” Olivia whispered. “I haven’t forgotten.” The insinuation that she could stung more than she cared to admit. “But you certainly can’t be comfortable, all crunched up in a chair like that.”

  “I’ve experienced worse.” Liam unfolded himself from the stiff-backed poor excuse of a chair and stretched what could only be sore and aching muscles. She didn’t miss the hint of snark in his voice and wondered how long this white elephant would remain in the room with them.

  With each passing minute, dawn continued to break, lightening the room as she sat there—watching—unable to take her eyes off him. She’d forgotten he was so tall, forgotten how chiseled and hard his muscular body was… The short-sleeved button up shirt he wore did nothing to hide his sinuous arms, or the well-defined muscles of his chest and washboard abs. His shirt hung loosely over dark washed-out jeans that sat low on his hips.

  As her eyes slowly ran back up the length of him and came to rest on his face, she didn’t miss the stubborn glint of his strong, square jaw, that aquiline proud nose—those breathtaking eyes… His dark burgundy hair shone almost black in the low light, but she knew the moment he stepped into the sun, the beautiful deep wine color would shine through. He looked exactly the same, yet seemed so completely different.

  His violet eyes locked on hers, catching her staring. Olivia’s breath hitched in her throat. “You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” she whispered, “but there’s something different about you.”

  The sigh he exhaled carried an undeniable note of frustration as he roughly dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m not so different, Olivia. I’m just trying to respect your decision to move on, and give you your space. This is anything but easy for me… And I’m not sure either one of us could survive going down that road again. I have to be fair to Mitch, whether I like it or not.”

  His stoic mask of indifference couldn’t disguise the pain in his voice. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, realizing his distance wasn’t because he was angry with her as she’d suspected yesterday. He was keeping his distance because she was engaged to marry another man. Tears of regret spilled down her cheeks, and just as quickly, her pain flashed in Liam’s eyes, confirming their bond was still strong as ever.

  “Olivia…” Her name left his mouth in a groan of sorrow and he took a hesitant step toward her.

  Overwhelmed, she held up her hand, and he stopped. She knew the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. She also knew full well that her actions had indeed hurt him. “I’ve got to get out of this dress!” Olivia cried, leaping off the bed and grabbing one of her bags as she ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  No longer able to contain her composure, she finally broke down, her breath hitching into sobs. She dropped her bag on the floor and reached behind her back, trying to unfasten the tiny pearl buttons that ran from her waist over her buttocks. Her hands shook, her fingers refusing to cooperate. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she stood there hyperventilating. After minutes of struggling to unfasten the stubborn dress, she dropped to the floor in defeat, swallowed up by yards of satin and sequins.

  “Dammit!” she cried, burying her face in her hands, giving herself over to self-pity. It just wasn’t fair! None of it! How could she have been so stupid as to try to convince herself that she could be with another man—love another man? Her heart would forever belong to the angel outside this door, and he would forever belong to his creator.

  In the last three years, she’d managed to do nothing except delude herself into believing she could learn to live without him. And now she’d pulled an innocent guy into all this mess, a guy whose only mistake was being foolish enough to love her.

  “Olivia?” The soft knock sounding at the door interrupted her “pity party for one.” Concern echoed in Liam’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

  She blew her nose and sniffled to clear her throat of unshed tears. “It’s this damn dress!” she cried. “I can’t get it off!”

  “Let me help you.”

  “No!” She did not want him coming in here and finding her crumpled on the floor, looking like a teary-eyed mess. She should have known he wouldn’t listen.

  “I’m coming in…” he announced a second before the lock disengaged. He took one step inside and stopped, looking down at her with zero judgment and nothing but love and compassion in those beautiful violet eyes. From the floor, he towered over her, making her feel so incredibly small and fragile. She wondered if she looked as pathetic as she felt—probably worse.

  “Stand up,” he said, reaching out to her. Olivia placed her hand in his sure, strong grasp, and he effortlessly pulled her to her feet. “Now turn around. Let me see what the problem is.”

  His hands dropped to her hips and he gently pivoted her around. Her back was completely bare, except for where the dress pulled together into a deep V at her waist.

  “It’s the buttons… They’re so tiny, I can’t get them unfastened,” she said softly.

  “Come out here where the lighting is better,” he said, leading her into the main room. Olivia followed, pulling the pins out of her hair as she walked across the room. Her jet black mane spilled down her back. Sitting at the edge of the bed, she stood in front of him. He looked up at her, not speaking—not moving—just…waiting. It wasn’t very often she had a height advantage over him, and briefly wondered what he’d do if she crawled onto his lap right now and kissed him. Would he taste the same?—or had time and heartache soured the flavor of his kisses? Would his touch still fill her with liquid heat, setting her senses on fire?

  As the memories of their passion-filled moments together replayed through her mind, flecks of sapphire began to marble his violet stare. He could feel her desire, was responding to it... Thank God he couldn’t read her thoughts right now.

  He swallowed and the dry click of his throat broke the silence stretching between them. “Turn around,” his husky whisper cracking just a bit.

  She pulled her hair over her shoulder and gave him her back. Her heart pounded as she stood there waiting for him to unfastened her gown. For a moment, she closed her eyes and let herself pretend this was their wedding night and she was standing before her angelic husband, waiting for him to unbutton her dress—

  The fabric tugged at the base of her spine. His fingers brushed against the little divot above her buttocks. Butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach as the first button of her gown let loose. His hands stilled, and she heard the sharp intake of his breath, deep and ragged. Letting out a shuddering exhale, his breath caressed her back. Olivia’s pulse leapt, pounding erratically. Her own breath quickened, trying to keep up with her racing heart as she held her hand against her breasts, pinning the dress in place as one by one, the buttons came loose.

  ***

  Unfastening Olivia’s gown was agonizingly tedious. The tremor in Liam’s fingers grew with each passing minute as time and time again, they brushed against Olivia’s bare flesh. Touching her was like running his fingers over the softest silk. Even her dress couldn’t compare to the warm, satin smoothness of her skin. As the next button let loose, the white lace of Olivia’s panties became visible and he hissed a ragged curse, fighting to control his racing heart. Heat flooded south, coiling the ache of desire tightening in his gut. A tortured groan escaped his lips as he continued to unfasten the buttons, exposing her lace-covered bottom.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her own voice hitched with unmistakable desire.

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. It took every ounce of concentration and self-control he had not to grab this female and pull her beneath him—consequences be damned. And believe him, there would be
many, and they would be severe.

  “Liam…?”

  Her gown rustled, and he glanced up to see Olivia watching him over her shoulder—her verdant eyes dilated in response to her arousal, her thick black mane fisted in her hand as she stood there, unblinking. Her other hand was pressed to her chest, holding that damn dress in place. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight, and the image of her at this moment would be forever burned into his mind. She needed to leave—she needed to leave right now. “I think that’s all of them,” he rasped, sounding like he’d just chewed broken glass. Why wasn’t she leaving?

  “Thank you,” she whispered, still standing there—watching him.

  Dammit, Olivia, leave! Now! Before it’s too late!

  What in the hell was she trying to do, torture him to death? Or perhaps tempt him into shaming himself by tossing his last bit of integrity out the window by taking another man’s woman? Yeah, that’d just about do it, and when he was finished, he could punch his ticket straight into Hell.

  “Liam?”

  Abruptly, he stood. Turning away from her, he snarled, “Olivia, please! Go get dressed!”

  She gasped. “I’m sorry!”

  The unmistakable brokenness in her voice shattered his heart. Running back into the bathroom, she slammed the door, trapping half her train beneath it. She must have given the dress a hard tug, because it quickly disappeared.

  Liam took a deep breath and prayed for strength as he ran his hands through his hair. Clearly, she overestimated him and his ability to restrain himself. Couldn’t she see he was trying to do the right thing here?—and it was killing him.

  Chapter Five

  “Are you sure they headed north?” Rowen asked, casting a sideways glare at Haden from the front passenger seat. Perhaps this tracker wasn’t all he was cracked up to be, after all. They’d been driving all night, and now, the first colors of dawn were beginning to break across the eastern sky. They were tired—cranky—and he needed to take a piss like you wouldn’t believe.

  “I’m sure,” Haden growled. “Just be patient. I’m not a damn psychic. They didn’t have that much of a jump on us. He must have stopped with her somewhere. Their trail’s gone cold.”

  “Great!” Cale complained from the back seat. “So we’re turning back?”

  “Wow, you sure have an astute one here, Rowen.” Haden nodded his head toward Cale. “What do you suggest?” Without warning, Haden slammed on the brakes, sending the car fish-tailing to a screeching halt. The rapid deceleration had them all eating dashboard and headrests. Haden turned to look at Cale, his pale green eyes boring into the demon with soulless contempt. “Would you prefer that we stop here and hope the warrior will come to us? Because I can guarantee you, we’ll be waiting here until Hell freezes over! Unlike you, he isn’t an idiot.”

  Cale didn’t reply, and Rowen was sure that had been the only reason the dumbass’ teeth were still in his head. He didn’t like Haden any more than his legion did—didn’t trust the broody bastard, either, but that didn’t mean Haden wasn’t dangerous as hell. Pushing the tracker’s buttons probably wasn’t the smartest move. You didn’t get to be Gahn’s right hand man by being a fuck-up. Interpretation: tread carefully, but don’t be a pussy. This Nephilim would smell fear a mile away, and just like any true predator, he’d strike to kill.

  “There was an exit about forty miles back. Let’s turn around and grab a bite to eat,” Rowen grumbled. “I’ve had just about all I can take of being crammed in this car with you assholes.” He was the one in charge here. This was his legion, and if Haden continued to undermine his authority, things were going to get serious—quick.

  Haden shot Cale one last I’m-gonna-rip-your-head-off glare before turning the car around to head back the way they’d just come. Note to self: The next time you accept an assignment from the Dark Court, take the time to learn everything you can about your crew.

  ***

  “When are we leaving?” Olivia asked, stepping out of the bathroom as she towel-dried her hair.

  Liam stood with his back to her, staring out the window. “As soon as you’re ready to go,” he replied, not bothering to turn around. The unmistakable hauntedness in his whiskey smooth voice made her heart ache. God help her, she loved him, and didn’t that just make her feel like the worst person ever, because her fiancé was probably sitting at home right now worried sick about her.

  She sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. “Well, I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I just have to finish my hair,” she said, standing in front of the mirror, combing out her tangled black mane. “Have you decided where we’re going?” She watched him from his reflection in the mirror.

  Finally, he turned toward her. “Vegas.”

  Olivia froze, the comb paused halfway through her hair. “Vegas?”

  “Yeah.” He walked up behind her and their eyes locked in the mirror. “It’s far enough from here and easier to hide you there.” Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace he’d given her for her eighteenth birthday, letting the heavenly stone fall from his hand as the chain dangled on his finger.

  “My necklace! Oh Liam, when did you grab it?” She lifted her hair up, a silent request for him to put it on her.

  He bent down, placing the exquisite heart-shaped jewel around her neck. She watched their reflection in the mirror as he bent, hovering close to her neck to fasten the clasp. “I took it from your jewelry box right before we left.” His breath whispered against her neck, skating into the V of her cleavage. “It’s not wise to leave such a precious stone unattended.” A pained expression crossed his face a moment before he turned away, putting that infuriating distance between them again. “I’m going to check us out while you finish getting ready.”

  Olivia nodded her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat as she watched him walk out the door.

  ***

  Liam entered the office and scanned the display of roadmaps on the wall, taking his time and needing some space after being cooped up in that tiny room with Olivia all night. Spending the next twenty-eight hours in a car, traveling across the United States with that woman, was going to be nothing short of pure torture. God knows, he loved her—now more than ever. Seeing her again in this dimension brought back all those memories—all those stolen moments. That forbidden rush of desire hit him with such force he could hardly breathe around her. At least when he was heavenly, he had a buffer. He couldn’t speak to her, smell her, be with her…

  “Lookin’ for one in particular?” the man at the desk asked, yanking Liam from his thoughts.

  “No. Just stretching my legs.”

  “Where you headed?”

  “Why do you ask?” Liam countered the man’s question with one of his own. He couldn’t lie, but sure as hell wasn’t about to tell the guy where he was taking Olivia.

  “No reason. It’s just not very often a beautiful woman in a wedding dress comes through here. I figured you must be on the way to your honeymoon or something. But then I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring, and then you wouldn’t give me any ID. So, I have to ask myself,” the old man paused before continuing, his arm moving behind the counter almost imperceptibly. “Is that little lady here with you willingly?” he asked point blank.

  Liam had to stop himself from laughing. That old coot was sharper than he’d given him credit for, and by the look in that guy’s cataract-grayed eyes, he didn’t intend to let Liam leave with Olivia until he was satisfied she hadn’t been abducted.

  Liam smiled. “Calm down now, old man,” he said smoothly. “Let’s not do anything here you’re going to regret. The lady is with me willingly. I’m just helping her out of a tough spot.”

  The guy eyed Liam warily, clearly not yet convinced.

  “You’re more than welcome to talk to her, if you’d like.”

  He gave a gruff nod of his head. “Let’s go talk to your lady friend.” Walking around the corner of the desk, the man made no ef
fort to hide the gun tucked in the back of his jeans.

  Liam led the way to their room, and the old man followed behind him. Knocking softly on the door, he called, “Olivia, it’s me. Open up.”

  The door opened and her eyes immediately fell on his sidekick. “This is the motel manager. He saw me carry you in last night and was afraid I’d brought you here against your will.”

  “What?” She looked from Liam to the manager. “Oh, well…thank you for your concern,” she said, “but I’m not with him against my will. In fact, I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be right now.” Olivia’s eyes locked on Liam’s. Unspoken words passed between them that he heard loud and clear.

  “All right then,” the old man grumbled as he turned to walk away. “Just makin’ sure everything’s on the up and up.”

  Liam stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Sorry about that. I just figured it’d be easier to appease him than deal with the police.”

  “Oh, I understand. I think it’s kinda sweet the old guy cares.”

  “Yeah, he cares enough to pack a .38 Special,” he grumbled. “If he isn’t more careful about winging that thing around, the old fool’s gonna get himself killed. Are you ready for some breakfast? There’s a diner a few miles from here on the way to the freeway.”

  “Sure, I’m starved.”

  He turned to leave. His hand was on the door when she called his name.

  Stopping, he glanced back at her and saw her bottom lip caught nervously between her teeth. He knew she wanted to say something by the flicker of her apprehension fluttering in his chest.

  “I meant what I said.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?” he asked.

  Her small hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, sending a jolt of heat racing up his arm. His gaze locked on hers, measuring her reaction. Did she feel it, too?

 

‹ Prev