Hell's Fury

by Davis, Dee

  "I guess maybe we should call it a night?" There was an implied question in David’s voice. One Jessie wasn’t sure she wanted to answer, but it didn’t matter because there was something more important to discuss.

  "I found something else in Braun’s files. Something I think you need to know." She’d debated about waiting to tell him until after the heist, but she knew she owed him more than that. "There are records here that identify Braun as the force behind Jason’s expedition." She pulled a flash drive from the laptop. "I copied them onto this for you."

  "Is there anything about my brother?" He fisted both hands, clearly fighting to contain emotion.

  She blew out a long breath and nodded, wishing there were some way to ease the blow. "There’s a whole dossier. It was buried deep within the directories, but it was there. I put it on the drive as well. It doesn’t definitively prove that he killed your brother, but I think you can probably assume he was pulling the strings. The whole thing appears to have been a setup from the get-go."

  David stared down at the drive in her hand, a muscle working in his jaw. Then slowly he reached out to take it from her.

  "I’ll understand if you want to pull out now. You have the answer you’ve been looking for." She waited for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. "For all we know Braun isn’t even in Milan."

  "Jessie, I..." He looked up, meeting her gaze, and she saw the answer in his eyes. Avenging Jason was his first priority. And next to that nothing else mattered at all.

  "Right," she said, not allowing him to finish. Better to get out of the room before she let him see how much the decision hurt.

  Chapter Seven

  David stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty doorway. He should have stopped her. Should have told her he’d stay. But when she’d told him about Braun, given him the drive, his only thought had been to find the bastard and make him pay. The sooner the better. It had been his overriding goal for so damn long.

  And she’d known that. Which was why, despite the chance that he’d leave her high and dry again, she’d told him. It was a gift, and he’d taken it without any thought to the ramifications.

  "You look like you lost your best friend," Faust said, appearing in the doorway. The man was definitely quiet on his feet. "Or maybe you’re just thinking of your brother." His gaze dropped to the drive David still held in his hand.

  "Jessie told you what she found?"

  "Just now. She also told me she’d released you from your promise to help her get the Protector." Maybe he was transferring his own guilt but it seemed that Faust’s words held a note of censure.

  "She did." He couldn’t seem to come up with more than a few words at a time, his heart twisting as his mind replayed the look on her face as she’d walked out of the room. "I think I may have hurt her."

  "She’s pretty tough," Faust said, walking over to the decanter to pour himself a drink.

  "On the outside maybe. But underneath ..." He trailed off, not sure what else he could say.

  "Underneath she’s as vulnerable as the rest of us?" Faust finished for him. "Maybe more so, actually. Especially when she allows herself to care about someone. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, David. Whatever’s going on between you, it’s important to Jessie."

  "I’m not exactly good at this kind of thing. I haven’t had a lot of practice."

  "Neither has Jessie. Sometimes the right people come together despite themselves." Faust’s smile was almost gentle.

  "Maybe. But even if what you’re saying is true, I’ve still got a lot of baggage."

  "Sometimes," Faust said with a sigh, "it’s easier to hate than to love."

  "You think I’m afraid?" David asked with a frown.

  "I’d be surprised if you weren’t. Love is the most complex of all human emotions. I don’t pretend to understand it, but I do know that when it’s real, you can’t just throw it way. It’s more tenacious than that."

  "I don’t know if it’s love. Truth is, I don’t know what the hell I feel. I only know that I don’t want to hurt her."

  "Which is why you ran away the first time."

  "I was trying to find Jason’s killer."

  "Well, now you’ve found him. Or more to the point, Jessie found him for you. And told you about it even though she believed it meant you’d leave. That’s love, David. It doesn’t matter if she recognizes it or not. The emotion is still the same."

  "So what am I going to do?"

  "I’m afraid I can’t answer that one, but if it were me, I’d go upstairs and find her."

  *****

  It shouldn’t matter that he hadn’t answered. That he hadn’t even tried to stop her when she’d left. At least this time she’d been the one to walk away. After all, she’d come into it with her eyes open. It was too late to change the game now.

  Besides, he’d probably already gone. Which was a good thing. She didn’t want a relationship anyway. This whole thing was a huge mistake. Except that she needed him. There was no way she could break into that vault on her own. Not even with Faust helping. She might be able to shift a fingerprint or visualize an access code, but there was no way she could drill a vault.

  So she’d just have to find someone else. Faust was bound to have contacts. It was worth the effort. She needed to fulfill her father’s quest now more than ever. Because as soon as she handed him the Protector, he’d free her from the hell she was living in. Her father was offering the opportunity to live the rest of her life in a world where her immortality was an accepted part of existence. She’d never want for anything.

  And she wouldn’t have to watch David grow old and die.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to contain a shiver, and walked to the window, looking out at the graveled driveway that led to the main road. Faust’s ancient Mini was parked out front.

  David’s car had been parked around back. So there was no way to know for certain if he’d left, but he’d been pretty damn clear about his priorities. As if taunting her, two yellow lights cut through the darkness—the car moving down the road, past the driveway, heading north.

  She sighed, leaning against the windowsill, letting the smell of gardenias and jasmine surround her, the soft cry of a dove mixing with the plaintive wail of the wind as it blew through the eaves above her. Sometimes she just felt so damn alone.

  "Jessie?" His voice was tentative, as if he were afraid to interrupt her thoughts.

  She spun around, her heart caught in her throat. "You’re still here. I thought... I thought you’d gone. I saw a car and lights, and..."

  "I don’t know what you saw, but it obviously wasn’t me." His smile was crooked and her heart gave another lurch. "I owe you an apology."

  "No, I shouldn’t have—"

  With one stride he closed the distance between them, his finger covering her lips. "Just this once, why don’t you let me do the talking."

  She nodded and moved back, needing a little distance.

  His eyes narrowed, but he held his ground, his gaze still locked on hers. "When we were downstairs—before—you gave me a gift. And I should have acknowledged it. Hell, I should have done a lot more than that."

  "I told you about your brother because you had every right to know. It wasn’t a gift."

  "No. But trusting that I could handle the news. Allowing me to make my own choices about what I did with the knowledge—that was a gift. And had I been a better man, I wouldn’t have let you walk away without acknowledging it. And I also shouldn’t have let you believe even for a minute that I’d leave you on your own to steal the Protector. I made you a promise, and I intend to honor it."

  "I don’t want you to stay because you have to, David. Because you made a promise. I want you to stay because it’s what you choose to do. "

  "I’m here because I want to be here."

  "Even if it’s only for tonight?" She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. And she definitely couldn’t even begin to consider the future, but she damn well didn
’t want him to walk out the door either.

  His smile was slow and a little bittersweet. "I’m here for as long as you want me, Jessie."

  They stood for a minute, the distance between them seemingly unbreachable, and then with a sigh, she launched herself into his arms, ashamed for yielding to her weakness, but unable to stop the driving need to feel the rhythm of his breathing as he held her close to his heart.

  They stood for a moment locked in embrace and then his mouth found hers, his kiss passionate—possessive. The feel of his skin moving against hers was intoxicating—sensual beyond belief. Heat seared through her as they moved together, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth, the sensation sending tremors of need racking through her.

  He stroked the curve of her breast, her flesh responding beneath the shimmering gauze of her shirt. His thumb circled one nipple, his other hand stroking the exposed skin on her back. The rhythm hypnotic—carnal.

  She pushed against him, desire spiraling out of control, and his mouth left hers to trail kisses along the line of her jaw, the shell of her ear, his tongue whipping her passion to a fever pitch. They moved, locked together, their steps choreographed by a connection both physical and spiritual. Each movement bringing them closer. Hearts beating together, clothing becoming an unwelcome barrier.

  They moved backward, until she could feel the edge of the bed at the back of her legs, but before she could pull him down, he stopped, naked desire etched on his face. "You’re sure this is what you want?" he asked, the vulnerability in his eyes making her heart skip a beat.

  "I want you, David. Only you." It was a promise. Perhaps one destined to be broken. But for now, in this moment, he was all that she wanted—repercussions be damned. She reached up to untie her halter top, the gossamer fabric floating down to the floor.

  With a smile, she released the zipper on her skirt, letting it slide slowly down her legs, and then, with a boldness she hadn’t realized she possessed, she pulled off her panties, standing before him naked—ready.

  The cold air surrounded her and for one moment she felt doubt, but then he was there, his heat consuming her, his mouth and hands worshipping. His lips closed on hers, his hands cupping both breasts, massaging, stroking, fanning the flames inside her.

  Fumbling with buttons and zippers, she worked to free him from his clothes, desire exploding with a power she’d never experienced before. It was as if she stood on a precipice, some intrinsic force urging her onward with the promise that she could fly.

  Somewhere in the rational part of her mind, she knew that this couldn’t possibly last, that if nothing else the secrets she kept would destroy it, but she didn’t care. Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight—not now. Finally, skin to skin, they lay down on the bed, the cool cotton of the sheets a sensual backdrop for all that was to come. He ran his hands down the length of her body, caressing her, learning her. She closed her eyes and let sensation carry her away.

  His mouth was warm, and his touch delicious. He started with her shoulders and worked his way slowly down the length of her arms, stopping to kiss the tender skin on the inside of her elbows. From there he moved to her neck, his mouth tracing along the valley between her breasts, his tongue circling each nipple, the action sending her writhing against the sheets. Then he pulled one into his mouth, sucking deeply, the resulting sensation cresting deep between her legs.

  Then his head moved lower. The soft silk of his hair teasing her breasts as he slowly licked and kissed the tender skin of her belly. Anticipation built inch by inch, until she wanted to cry out. But she stayed silent, forcing herself to wait, knowing that it would be worth it.

  Finally, finally, his hands moved between her legs, his mouth following the curve of her inner thigh, his hot breath teasing her with its nearness. She arched her back, wanting more, and just when she thought she couldn’t stand it, his tongue found her.

  She cried out, the pleasure almost more than she could bear. Clasping the headboard behind her, she arched her back, urged him on, her need building with each stroke of his tongue, the fire inside her building higher and higher, until finally she reached for his hands, screaming his name, the world splintering into glittering shards of light.

  *****

  David felt her body shudder and knew she had found release. Sliding up beside her, he pulled her close, cradling her body against him, He’d meant to give her pleasure. To atone somehow for wounding her with his doubt. But he was surprised at the contentment that rocked through him. It was as if he’d come home, found a place of safety he hadn’t even known he’d been seeking.

  His body ached for her, but still he held her. Wanting to prolong the bliss, the peace. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way, and he knew it was a moment to be savored.

  Her breathing was still erratic, her heart pounding against his, but she moved, pushing the hair back from her face, her gaze meeting his, eyes full of lust, the desire there making it impossible to ignore his throbbing penis.

  With a groan, he pulled her into his arms, his kiss demanding, absorbing her with each taste, each touch. She met him halfway, her tongue dueling with his, taking as much as she gave. He shivered as her fingers caressed the hard planes of his chest, whispering butterfly like across his skin, tracing circles of fire.

  She tasted his neck, then slid down to take a nipple into her mouth. Sucking and nipping, she savored him, the warmth connecting directly to his groin, tightening almost to the level of pain. If it was possible, it seemed his penis grew even harder, impatiently pressing against the soft skin of her thigh.

  "I need you." The words came from someplace deep inside him and were almost guttural in pitch and fervor. He’d never felt like this. As if possessing her were the only way he could possibly feel whole.

  She smiled up at him and slid farther down, taking him into her mouth, the moist suction almost his undoing. Circling him with her tongue, she moved her hand as well, the rhythms combining to create pleasure so intense he thought he might explode on the spot.

  Up and down, squeezing, stroking, he fought his body for control. When he came, he wanted to be buried deep inside her.

  Connected.

  Fighting for breath, he moved slightly, the shift enough to separate them. Then, still fighting to hang on to his control, he flipped them over, the friction of their bodies sliding into position almost sending him over the edge. Unable to wait any longer, he braced himself above her, and then with a single thrust, slid home, her wet heat embracing him.

  They stayed that way for a moment, eye to eye, linked together as man and woman, the age-old dance suddenly taking on new meaning because it was Jessie.

  Then she pushed against him, driving him deeper, her hands pulling him closer, urging him onward. Together they began to move, finding their own private rhythm—until there was nothing but the two of them, and the incredible sensation of the dance.

  Their bodies locked together, moving faster and faster, until the pleasure exploded into an inferno of heat and light, David’s body and mind oblivious of everything except the power of his orgasm and the feel of her breath against his skin.

  *****

  The first rays of sunshine slipped through the open window and danced across the tangled sheets on the bed. Jessie lay propped on one elbow, watching David sleep. He seemed more innocent somehow. The harsh realities of his life temporarily subdued. She wished there were some way to preserve the magic of the night. But she knew from experience that it was a hopeless endeavor.

  She’d been selfish last night. Taken what she’d wanted without thought to the repercussions. And now it was time to pay the cost. After the heist, she’d do the one thing she’d promised herself she’d never do. Lie to him. Tell him that there was no future. That what they’d shared was only sex—amazingly toe-curling sex—but nothing more.

  The alternative was unthinkable. Explaining that while he was going to age and eventually die, she was never going to change. Ever. Ironic that most humans would kil
l for the chance at immortality and here she was wishing it away, simply so that she could spend what would then be left of her life with David.

  Almost as if he’d read her thoughts, he reached for her, pulling her close against him even as he slept. She burrowed into his warmth, memorizing the feel of his skin. If everything went as planned, it would all be over tonight.

  The Protector would be safely in her father’s hands. David would be free to pursue Braun and exact vengeance for Jason. Faust could go back to Marcus and their escapades in the name of beauty. And she’d be free from this world—and the memories it held.

  If she was lucky, maybe she would be able to forget him. To erase the memory. But even as she had the thought, she knew it was impossible. Nothing, not even her father’s magic, could make her forget. She had, after all, made a fatal mistake—she’d fallen in love with David Bishop.

  And now, quite literally, there would be hell to pay.

  Chapter Eight

  The music in the VIP lounge at Azure swelled, combining with a cacophony of voices to form a deafening roar. And when one added in the olfactory onslaught of overly perfumed, badly bathed bodies it was almost impossible to tolerate. Usually immune to that sort of thing, David felt as if all of his synapses were firing at once. And he was more than aware of the reason.

  Jessie.

  Last night had been beyond anything he’d ever thought possible. A connection so intense that it scared him. But he was also wise enough to know that what they’d shared last night was something rare and precious. Only he hadn’t been able to convince Jessie of the fact.

  Actually, he hadn’t had the opportunity to tell her much of anything. He’d woken alone in her bed. And when he’d made his way downstairs it was only to find her with Faust, immersed in the details of the heist.

  He’d tried to show her at least how much their lovemaking had meant to him, but she’d rebuffed even the simplest of contact, passing it off as a need to concentrate on the task at hand. He’d have been questioning his memory of the night if it hadn’t been for the look in her eyes—a flicker of desire tamped down with a sadness that threatened to take his breath away. It was as if there were something tangible standing between them. Something he couldn’t see, let alone understand.