Her fingers tingled with the need to touch. Heat seared her cheeks, penetrated her brain. It didn’t matter where they were or what danger she might be in. She still found him bloody irresistible.
But she would resist. She had to. Because she had the feeling being with him would be so damn fabulous she could end up forgetting her own name. Never mind anything else.
He still didn’t answer her. Maybe he just didn’t know the answers. Why couldn’t he simply tell her that?
“I need to go home as soon as possible. You can understand that, can’t you?” She risked glancing up and caught a glint of incredulity in his eyes, as if her remark had caught him completely off-guard. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you did.” She didn’t want him to think she was being ungrateful. But the point was if she was safe from the Guardians here then all he had to do was explain how that worked and then she could ensure she took the same precautions. “But I just—”
Without a word he turned on his heel and stalked from the kitchen. Aurora stared after him, bemused. What was that all about? Was he the kind of guy who didn’t like to be thanked?
Well, even though he did have a bit of an attitude problem he deserved to be thanked for what he’d done, so she followed him. A wide, stone-tiled hallway greeted her and he was halfway along it, making his way toward the simple stone staircase.
“Hey.” She waited a couple of seconds but he didn’t pause, didn’t glance back at her. “Where are you going? I’m in the middle of talking to you.”
He paused then, and she waited for him to turn around. But he didn’t. A flicker of trepidation trickled along her spine at his rigid stance. What was the matter with him? Now she thought about it he didn’t give the impression of someone who was uncomfortable with being thanked. Anyone would think her perfectly reasonable remark had infuriated him.
“It’s kind of you to offer to put me up for a while.” Well, it was. Even if the circumstances surrounding his offer were completely crazy. “But I can’t stay. I have commitments and in any case my m—”
Slowly he turned and for some reason that was enough to dry the rest of her words in her throat.
“Be silent.” His voice was low, even, and yet she flinched as if he had roared the words inside her brain. “Stop questioning my every command.”
His every what?
“Command?” Had she misunderstood? “Your every command?”
“You’ll stay here until I say otherwise. There’s nothing to discuss.”
Was he for real? “What century are you from? You can’t go around giving me orders like that. If I want to leave here I will.”
“No,” he said, his gaze scorching her. “You won’t.”
For a moment words failed her as she stared into his smoldering eyes. The insubstantial desire to agree with him floated through her mind. It would make everything so much easier. And, after all, what else could she do?
She tore her gaze free and glared at his rigid jaw. As if surfacing through a cloudy pool her thoughts swirled back into focus. Sure, she hadn’t a clue where she was and on top of that she didn’t have any money, let alone her passport, on her.
But right now that didn’t matter.
“You can’t keep me here against my will.”
Finally he took a step toward her. She only just stopped herself from taking a step back to compensate.
“I can do,” he said, his voice ominously quiet, “whatever I please.”
It was a blatant threat and all things considered she knew she should have been shivering with terror.
Except, bizarrely, his threat didn’t terrify her. It annoyed her. Who did he think he was, issuing orders and throwing his weight around as if he was some sixteenth-century royal dictator?
She folded her arms and once again risked looking into his eyes. “Don’t count on it.”
His pupils expanded; a heady combination of lust and rage and again she stared, mesmerized, and all but forgot why she was mad with him.
“If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it.” He flicked a scorching glance over her, branding her flesh and heating her blood. “I suggest you don’t hold your breath.”
His insult shouldn’t have bothered her at all. She hardly knew him. But his words rammed home the indisputable fact that while he wouldn’t hesitate to sleep with her he had no interest whatsoever in her as a person.
Fine. She was only interested in him as a sex object because his personality could sure do with some major readjustment. Except it wasn’t fine. And she couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response that wouldn’t let him know how much his caustic remark had hurt.
The resulting silence thundered in her ears. After a moment, when it appeared he’d been waiting to see if she had any comeback to his comment, his stony expression softened. Incredulous disgust curdled her stomach as she realized how easy it was for him to demolish her self-righteous indignation with nothing more than a seductive glance.
“Follow me. I’ll show you to my suite.”
Where, no doubt, he expected to seduce her into eternal compliance. As if that was already a foregone conclusion he took another step toward her. This time there was no inherent menace in his approach. This time he exuded raw, sensual desire.
“You have my permission to enter any room you like, apart from my office.” He sounded as if he was bestowing a great honor. Aurora gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, the arrogant jerk.
Another fraught silence suspended between them. It was clear he expected some kind of response and the slight narrowing of his eyes suggested he couldn’t understand her prolonged muteness.
“Aurora.” His voice was no longer as hard as granite. It purred through her mind, a sensual caress, and she marveled at his sheer, unabashed nerve. “Speak to me.”
Oh, so now he wanted her to speak? When it suited him?
“I have nothing to say to you.” Her voice wasn’t as frosty as she’d like, but it would have to do. “Except for this. If you think I’m going to share your bed you’re mad. Just because you saved my ass doesn’t give you rights over any part of my body. Are we clear on that?”
His jaw visibly tensed and there was no mistaking the look of shock that flashed across his features. As if she had just accused him of something not only despicable but also, until this moment, something he hadn’t even contemplated.
With a sense of surreal disbelief she realized he was offended by her remark. After everything he’d just said to her he had the nerve to take offense when she retaliated?
She waited for his cutting reply. It didn’t come. Uneasily she realized that she’d completely misinterpreted his offer. After all, the chemistry had sizzled between them from the second they had met. It had nothing to do with him rescuing her and expecting sex as payment.
Not that she’d meant that. He must know that wasn’t what she’d meant? Even if her words had inferred exactly that?
She glared at him. How had he managed to make her feel guilty? He needed to know she wouldn’t put up with his medieval attitude. But she hadn’t meant to accuse him of something that, in her heart, she knew he would never demand.
But how did she know that? How could she be so sure?
Before she could sort out her tangled thoughts he turned his back on her, climbed the stairs and disappeared around the corner.
Chapter Eight
GABE stormed into his suite, slammed the doors with such force the timber frame splintered and went out onto the expansive balcony. He stood at the very edge and glared at the subtropical forest that surrounded his villa, but saw only the disdainful expression on Aurora’s face as she had accused him of expecting her to become his—what, his sex slave?
Was that what she really thought?
He’d sunk to the depths of depravity in his time. Had cohabited with the dredges of the universe and indulged in a multitude of drug-induced crimes across countless galaxies. But never had he come close to extorting sex
for services rendered.
Deep in the ruined tangle of muscle and sinew that gouged his back, he could feel the ancient tug. He rolled his shoulders, flexed his pectorals, tried not to let the black anguish overtake him.
But the ache permeated his being, a constant physical reminder of all he had lost. Once, he hadn’t cared. Had welcomed his deformity, flaunted his scars, taken a twisted sense of satisfaction in the fact he no longer possessed that which defined his species.
It hadn’t lasted long. A few insane decades at most. And then reality had crashed through his haze of guilt and grief. The reality that he would never again experience the exhilarating freedom of soaring through the skies.
Eventually he’d learned to live with it.
His hands fisted, jaw tensed. Adrenaline pumped through his arteries, feeding the rage, stoking the lust that refused to subside. Every cell in his body screamed for release, to know once again the power and ecstasy of spreading his wings and owning the heavens.
Air hissed between his clenched teeth and he wheeled around, glared at his coolly elegant bedroom. Only two things could take the edge off this frenzied fire in his blood. Fighting or fucking. Right now, he didn’t care which it was so long as it left him incapable, for a few blessed hours, of coherent thought.
Aurora. Her face materialized in his mind. How dare she level such base accusations at him? But even as the thought hammered through his brain, the vision of taking her while fury sizzled between them caused his cock to harden with shocking force.
She could protest all she liked. The lust between them had nothing to do with him having saved her from the Guardians. Her body wanted his and within moments he could have her writhing in mindless pleasure.
And afterward she would be sated and pliant and would finally know her place.
His blood thundered at the enticing image of Aurora on her knees, looking up at him with adoration and the respect that had so far been entirely lacking.
He marched into his dressing room and grabbed a black shirt from the timber closets built into the walls.
It was galling to know that even now he still wanted her. But he’d be damned if he was going to pursue her like a lust-struck mortal. Sooner or later she’d succumb to the desire in her blood and she would come to him.
In the meantime he intended to find a couple of willing females and fuck their primitive brains out.
—
AURORA HOVERED AT the bottom of the stairs, but as the minutes slid by he still didn’t reappear. What was he doing?
Waiting for an apology?
She could swallow her pride enough to say she was sorry for accusing him of expecting sex as payment for having rescued her. It was a stupid notion in any case. He knew full well she’d wanted him from the minute he’d landed on top of her.
But she’d also make it clear that she wanted some answers. Make that a lot of answers. Because by god, she had a lot of questions.
She made her way up the stairs. The stone was worn, as if they had endured the steps of thousands over the centuries. She glanced over her shoulder and paused for a second to admire the sheer simplicity of the hallway and the endless windows with their breathtaking views. He apparently lived in paradise.
Upstairs were five timber doors—one to her left, an enormous double one directly ahead and two on the right.
“Hello?”
Silence greeted her. Heart hammering, she gingerly pushed open the first door on her right.
The room was completely empty. She tried the second door, with the same result.
The doors ahead beckoned. So she tried the one on her left.
It was obviously his office. The one he had forbidden her to enter. She nearly walked straight in, just to prove she could, but decided it wouldn’t help her attempt at apologizing if he suddenly emerged onto the landing and caught her.
She eyed the last doors. They must have been about ten-feet high and six feet across and if she didn’t know better she’d think he was trying to compensate for something.
“I know you’re in there.” She tried to make her voice sound commanding but wasn’t at all sure she’d succeeded. “Can you come out so we can talk?” Because she really didn’t want to have a discussion in his bedroom. It would be too distracting.
More silence. He obviously wanted her to grovel. He was going to be disappointed.
“I didn’t mean what I said just now.” Was he listening? “I’m just—look, do you think you could come out because I feel like an idiot talking to your door.”
The silence became oppressive and unease knotted her stomach. Before she could stop to think of the possible consequences she pushed open the doors.
His bedroom suite was magnificent in its simplicity. The bed dominated, a massive timber four-poster, so huge it could easily accommodate six people. And it probably did. She scowled, dragged her gaze away and then stared in reluctant awe at the fabulous view through the open double doors.
Slowly she made her way toward the balcony and then stopped at the doorway, senses reeling. The balcony extended the length of the villa and was just as wide. But there was no safety barrier. Even from where she stood it was enough to give her a whisper of vertigo.
She swung around and stepped back into his bedroom. A carved archway led to another room. His bathroom? She decided she didn’t care. Because it was glaringly obvious he wasn’t here.
Her good intentions to apologize and have a rational conversation with him evaporated. The bastard had teleported, leaving her up the creek.
She swung on her heel and marched back down the stairs. She might not possess the technology he did in order to teleport but she wasn’t as stranded as he imagined.
She would escape. And he would be . . . astounded.
—
GABE RETURNED TO the club in Manhattan. It was a long shot, but Mephisto might still be there. But after scanning the darkened interior and asking the bartender it became clear he wasn’t. And hadn’t been since earlier that morning, around the time when Gabe had unceremoniously landed on top of Aurora.
He shoved her from his mind. He’d come here to forget about her. It wouldn’t be hard. He glanced around, his interest no longer in discovering Mephisto’s whereabouts, and a pair of identical redheads caught his eye. When they realized his glance didn’t immediately pass over them, they clutched each other and dissolved into giggles.
They’d do. He took a step toward them.
“My Lord Gabriel.”
The voice directly behind him brought him up short. He swung around and glared at the tall male who eyed him fearlessly. “I’m busy.” Gabe turned away. The male didn’t back away, didn’t apologize. What the fuck was wrong with mortals today?
“A moment of your time, my lord. That’s all I ask.”
“Not now.”
The male gripped his upper arm. “I’ve been searching for you for the last three Medan moon cycles.”
Gabe looked him in the eyes, then deliberately dropped his gaze to his upper arm. The male didn’t let go. It was a measure of his desperation, but Gabe didn’t give a shit about his desperation. The man had about three seconds before he lost that hand for good.
Finally the male appeared to realize his near-fatal error and slowly freed him. “Forgive me.” He bowed his head in respect, this time keeping his eyes trained on the floor. “Lord Gabriel, you’re the only one who can help me. I beg you to consider my request.”
There was a protocol to be followed for anyone who wanted to approach him with regard to requesting his services. Being accosted in a club, in full view of dozens of pairs of curious eyes, wasn’t an intelligent move for someone hoping to win his favor.
There were other appropriate channels. Generally he preferred to conduct business on a suitably remote and inhospitable planet. But it had been weeks since he’d finished his last assignment. Maybe this man could offer him something of interest. Something he could focus on other than the annoying presence of Aurora on his island.
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He swerved into a darkened alcove where a couple was entwined. For some crazy reason they reminded him of Aurora’s accusation and his banked rage flared once again. “Move it.”
After a startled glance in his direction, the couple leaped to their feet and sidled past him in clear relief he hadn’t accompanied his demand with a couple of thunderbolts.
He sprawled on the seat and propped one booted foot on the table. Without waiting to be invited the male sat opposite.
“My name is Jaylar. I come from the planet Medana, in a solar system in the Beta Spiral of Andromeda,” he said without preamble. “My daughter, Evalyne, is missing. We believe she’s been taken off the planet.”
“Maybe she just took off by herself.” He had no time for overprotective fathers. Or possessive lovers. Not to mention ex-lovers. They all tried it on with him, thinking he’d make an exception.
He never did.
“You misunderstand, Lord Gabriel.” Jaylar swallowed, clearly struggling with emotion. Gabe flicked his glance around the club to give him a moment to compose himself. “Although the blood of the gods flows in my veins, my lineage is diluted and Evalyne’s mother is a pureblood mortal. Evalyne didn’t inherit my ability to teleport. She’s never left Medana in her life.”
Gabe rapped his fingers on his thigh. “So she found herself a lover who could give her something she lacked.” He shoved his foot from the table and prepared to leave. This was a waste of time. “I don’t track runaway lovers.”
Jaylar leaned across the table. His eyes glowed with a hint of madness. “She’s four years old, Lord Gabriel.”
Four years old. An ancient ache reawakened deep in his chest and he smothered the urge to sigh in defeat. Of course he would take on the mission. A four-year-old child. A female at that. How could he not?
He kept his expression impassive. To allow the slightest inclination of his personal feelings to show would be suicidal. He’d be inundated by frantic parents searching for missing offspring, whereas at the moment only those on the verge of insanity dared approach him with such requests.
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