All of her.
His lips parted, his gaze distant as he muttered, “Get moving. Out or under the water… I don’t care which. Just cover up.”
Cass rolled her shoulders and waded deeper, heading towards the end of the stone pool nearest the zen garden, giving her back to him to flash the fact her black lace panties didn’t cover the curves of her backside.
A sharp thrill chased through her as his gaze fell there, scalding her, and she swore he growled under his breath.
Water splashed behind her, adding to that thrill, quickening her breath and heating her blood. Part of her had expected him to leave. To run as far as he could from her. Was she making progress with him?
Cass reached the far end of the stone bath and shyly turned to face him, sinking under the water at the same time so he barely caught a glimpse of her front.
She stretched her arms out along the edge of the pool, tipped her head back and loosed a long sigh as heat suffused every inch of her and her breasts crested the surface.
“This is bliss,” she moaned.
“Knock it off,” Daimon grunted. “I’m meant to be relaxing.”
She lowered her eyes to him. Almost chuckled. He had his head tipped back and a small damp towel draped over his eyes.
She snuck closer, slipping silently through the water, her pulse accelerating as anticipation rolled through her and she waited for him to catch her.
“How come you don’t freeze the water?” A little light conversation would keep him distracted from her closing the distance between them.
He muttered, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I do.”
“Do you always get what you want?” he bit out and dragged the towel from his face as he lowered his head. His white eyebrows knitted hard as he noticed her and the fact she was closer now.
“Most of the time.” All the time.
Well, at least until Daimon had walked into her life.
Perhaps not all the time even then. The coven was another exception. What they wanted, they got, whether she liked it or not. She pushed that out of her mind, refusing to let it sour her mood when she had Daimon in the water with her, deliciously close to naked and not looking as if he was going to bolt.
He huffed and tipped his head back again. Progress. He wasn’t pushing her away or forcing her back to the other end of the bath.
His bare chest heaved on a sigh, muscles stretching and flexing in a way that lured her gaze down to it and mesmerised her. “The water is cooler around me, but the constant heat from the thermal spring below the house that supplies it is enough to stop it from turning to ice.”
“Is it cooler around you?” She moved before he could protest, using a swiftness spell to have her pressed against him in the blink of an eye.
He jerked away.
Scowled at her.
“I only wanted to see if you were telling the truth.” She pouted.
He stared at her, looking as if he wanted to lash out at her.
But then he grabbed her nape and dragged her to him, their bodies colliding and mouths dangerously close as he gazed down into her eyes.
He husked, “Does this satisfy your curiosity?”
A shiver tripped along her spine as he palmed the back of her head, his hand cool against it, addling her mind.
She retained enough sense to give the spell she had used to prevent his ice from hurting her another top-up.
Her breath trembled, the strangest feeling running through her as she stared into his eyes, able to pick out all the flecks of blue and white, and silver this close to him.
Nerves.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had been nervous about anything, and definitely couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her feel this way, as if she was coming and going at the same time, spinning in circles and being turned inside out.
Afraid of what might happen, but desperate for it at the same time.
His cool breath fanned across her lips, his chest shifting against hers as his breaths quickened.
Did he feel the same sense of anticipation?
She mustered her courage and settled her palm on his left pectoral, stroked her fingers downwards to graze his nipple and the start of his stomach. His breath hitched, his body tensing beneath her questing fingers, and his gaze turned distant and hazy again.
“Does this satisfy yours?” she whispered, her mouth drying out as she dared herself to inch her lips towards him.
He ruined the chance by turning his profile to her, his gaze falling to her hand as he murmured, “How do you do that?”
Cass smiled softly. “It’s magic.”
He turned his head towards her again, their lips almost touching, and an ache bloomed inside her, a powerful need consuming her.
She needed him to kiss her.
She wanted to know what it would feel like.
He leaned closer and she swore her heart stopped.
Water slammed over her, her senses reeled, and she gasped. It poured into her throat, triggering dark images, memories she wanted to forget. They flashed across her mind in rapid succession as she desperately clawed her way to the surface, as she coughed and struggled to get air into her lungs and purge the water.
When she could breathe again and the fear that had gripped her subsided, she narrowed her eyes on Daimon where he lounged at the other end of the pool. Looking for all the world as if he had done nothing wrong, as if he had felt nothing as he’d watched her struggling to surface and fighting for air. Her hoarse breaths raked in her ears as fury poured through her veins to obliterate the softer things she had been feeling.
“That’s twice you’ve tried to drown me,” she snapped and stood, and the water around her trembled as her magic rose within her, filling her with a need to give as good as she had gotten and show him what it was like to be drowned.
Not a flicker of regret crossed his handsome features as he stood and stepped from the water, as he scowled at her as if she were to blame for everything.
She didn’t bother holding back this time. “You were the one who tried to kiss me!”
He flashed short fangs and stormed away from her.
But in the brief moment before he had turned away, she had caught the pain in his eyes.
Fathomless. Dreadful.
Cass sank back into the water, all her fight draining from her.
He had said his heart belonged to another, but that wasn’t the truth. Someone had broken it and for some reason he was holding on to the tattered remains rather than trying to heal it.
She stared in the direction he had gone.
Whispered.
“Who hurt you?”
Chapter 10
Daimon sat on the edge of the king-size bed in his home in Hong Kong, staring at the pendant resting on the palm of his hand.
It had been wrong of him to want Cass like that.
Unfaithful.
He closed his fingers over the pendant and shut his eyes.
Penelope appeared before him, a smile budding on her lips as she worked in the small garden of her home, tending foxgloves and gladioli. A dirty white pinafore covered part of her dull blue-grey dress, but the scooped neckline was low enough to reveal the pendant. It swayed and twinkled in the summer sunshine as she leaned over, her knees pressing into the grass.
Beyond her, the old cottage had seen better days, needed repairing again.
Would forever need repairing.
She sat back and brushed her hand across her forehead, clearing damp strands of sun-kissed auburn hair from it.
He held the pendant more tightly, watching her as she worked, tending to the garden she had loved so much.
Waiting for him.
The pendant could show him any moment when she had been wearing it, allowing him to see how happy she had been when he had given it to her, among other things.
Rather than soothing him as it usually did, today the sight of her only made him question his feelings about her.
/> He waited, hoping, needing to feel that calm he did whenever he watched her like this, that sense that remaining loyal to her was what he wanted more than anything, that his love for her was eternal.
It didn’t come.
She wasn’t the woman he wanted to see.
She wasn’t the one he needed to see.
He opened his fingers and stared at the pendant, cursed himself as another memory played out before him.
One of Cass going under the water, of her breaching the surface and fighting for air, of her looking at him with hurt in her eyes, and a hell of a lot of anger.
Anger he deserved.
Hiding here in his home in Hong Kong wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He wouldn’t feel better until he had apologised to her.
It had been a knee-jerk reaction, one he should have been strong enough to contain. She was right. He had been the one who had tried to kiss her, and he had blamed her for it, and for how guilty he felt because he had wanted to taste her lips, and so much more.
He sighed and stood, slipped the pendant back onto the clasp on his phone and shoved the device into the pocket of his black jeans. He grabbed the navy turtleneck sweater he had discarded on top of the white dresser and tugged it on before he stepped.
Darkness whirled around him and then he was standing in the front garden of the Tokyo mansion. He strode to the house and unlaced his boots.
Froze when Cass’s voice rang in the late afternoon air.
“I need to take care of Milos. I’ve left him alone too long already.” Cass sighed, a light sound that teased his ears but did nothing to calm his mood as it took a sharp nosedive.
Who the hell was Milos?
Acid burned through his veins, settled in his stomach and scoured it.
Cass had been giving him the cold shoulder since Hong Kong and the moment in the bath, had avoided him for two days straight. It had been what he wanted, so why had he hated every moment of it?
Why had he hated the fact she had been keeping her distance?
Was this why she had avoided him? She felt bad that she had wanted him in that moment, when she had another man. Whoever the bastard was, he was Greek. For some reason, that only made him angrier.
“Are you strong enough to do this?” Marinda sounded concerned.
“All charged up again. I have enough strength to transport myself to Karavostasis, take care of Milos’s needs for a day or two, and then I’ll be able to transport myself back here.”
Take care of Milos’s needs?
Daimon wanted to growl at that.
“Give him my love and a hug from me.” Marinda’s warm words only increased Daimon’s urge to growl.
Cass’s signature disappeared and Daimon kicked off his boots, dumped them on the rack and opened the front door, trying to ignore the black urge to follow her. He made a beeline for his room in the north wing, striding past Marinda, needing a moment to rein in his needs before they got out of control and got him into trouble.
The darkness seething in his veins refused to abate, had him shoving the white panel door of his room open and pacing in a circle on the golden straw mats. Who was Milos? Her lover? Husband?
He tunnelled his fingers through his hair and clutched it, clawed it back until his scalp stung.
What did it matter to him?
A growl pealed from his lips.
A lot.
It mattered a lot.
He pivoted and stepped before he could consider what he was doing, and the cold dark of the teleport gave way to warmth as sunshine bathed him. The dry air smelled of earth, and to his right waves gently rolled over a stony shore, tugging at the pebbles and shifting them around.
Daimon blew out his breath and opened his eyes, stared at the white blocky two-storey buildings that hugged the curving bay of Karavostasis and the brown hills spotted with pale boulders that rose above them.
The small ramshackle village was quiet in the morning sunshine, only a few older mortals coming and going along the seafront beneath the trees that followed the sweeping line of the beach, clutching bread and exchanging greetings as they passed each other.
This was where Cass lived?
Did she live here with Milos, playing the doting wife?
He tried to shut out the image of her with another man as he picked his way down the bluff, the ochre soil already warm beneath his bare feet.
He should have at least put some shoes on. What did it matter though? He didn’t intend for anyone to see him. When he reached the bottom of the small rocky promontory, he eased down onto his backside and waited. He had no idea where Cass lived, but if she had been gone a while, there was a chance she might need to visit the small store.
Unless her lover had already stocked the cupboards for her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to picture her in one of the small villas, doing mundane things like cooking lunch or baking bread. Homely things.
It wasn’t a problem.
He found it impossible to imagine Cass in that role. She didn’t dress like a woman who did such things, and she hadn’t once shown any inclination to cook. She struck him as the sort of woman who preferred to have someone wait on them.
He opened his eyes and scanned the area.
None of the houses were big or grand enough to warrant hiring staff.
He growled when his mind supplied that Milos probably took care of the domestic things.
Worshipping Cass in every way possible.
That growl cut short as the blue door of the store opened and Cass walked out.
Wearing the same slinky and sexy black dress she always did.
No one batted an eye as she greeted them. In fact, they all bowed their heads and one of the older women even stopped her for a brief conversation. When the woman walked away, it was with a smile.
And a look of relief on her face.
It struck him that no one viewed Cass as out of place because they knew she was a witch, and that she helped them.
Which seemed impossible.
Cass didn’t have a kind bone in her body.
He instantly took that back. She did. He had seen it more than once, especially when she was around Marinda, and she had done all she could to heal his brothers whenever they had been injured.
He just didn’t want to soften towards her, and admitting she had good traits as well as bad ones, was a path that would lead to him doing just that.
He wanted to be angry with her.
His eyes slowly widened.
Because he was jealous.
He tried to discount that, to laugh at the impossible notion that he was envious of the bastard Cass had come to see, who lived on this beautiful island with her.
But he couldn’t.
He eased onto his feet and tailed Cass, keeping his distance from her, nodding as he passed the old woman who Cass had comforted. He was tempted to ask what Cass had said to her and about the things she did for the community, but the thought of losing sight of Cass kept him moving forwards.
She followed the road as she reached the other side of the bay and he kept the distance between them steady. Stones that had fallen into the road from the hill that gently sloped up to his right bit into the soles of his feet, but he ignored the pain as he followed Cass. She turned left, following a trail downwards, towards the shore.
Daimon hurried after her and stopped at the start of the path.
Below him, crystal clear blue water lapped at the rocky coast and a small stony beach.
Set just back from that on a stretch of flat pale rock was a single-storey flat-roofed white villa, surrounded by a white painted stone wall that needed repairing. It had fallen down in some places, the stones tumbling into the small patch of dry dirt that had been turned into what appeared to be a herb garden.
Or it had been.
The plants were all dead now, shrivelled and brown.
From the front of the villa, a terrace with a low wall extended outwards towards the sea and looked as
if someone had painted it white more recently than the rest of the house. Stripped tree trunks as thick as his arms supported a dark wooden flat roof over the terrace, giving it some shade.
He ducked down as one set of blue wooden shutters opened, revealing a dark interior.
“Come now, Milos… don’t be moody with me.” Cass’s voice held a playful note.
Daimon growled low, the darkness surging through him with renewed ferocity. He stood and shoved the rickety gate open, and stormed down the path, determined to see who this Milos was.
What did this bastard have that Daimon didn’t?
There had to be some reason she had given her heart to this male. He had to be the reason she had declared she wasn’t interested in Daimon’s heart.
Because she already loved another.
A vicious hiss greeted him as he neared the terrace, a low growl following it.
Daimon stopped dead and looked down at the mangey white and ginger cat on the terracotta tiles. Ragged scar tissue ran over its nose and part of its left ear was missing, and it looked as if it either needed a good brush or a heavy dose of flea killer.
From inside the house, Cass made a kissy noise.
Daimon took a hard step forwards, determined to stop whatever was going on in the house.
The cat growled louder.
The kissing noise grew louder too.
Daimon froze as Cass stepped out onto the terrace, her blue eyes on the cat.
And then him.
She huffed. “I had wondered why Mister Milos was grumpy. I can’t blame him. I’m not exactly pleased to see you either.”
Daimon’s mouth flapped open.
Milos was the cat?
He looked down at the ancient thing that was still blocking his route. The cat hissed, baring three yellowing fangs. The bottom left one was missing.
Gods, he was an idiot.
All the fight that had been building inside him suddenly bled out of him.
“I could mention how you’re stalking me. I shan’t… but I could.” Cass smiled when he frowned at her and her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “I just wanted that out there.”
Fine, so she wasn’t the only one with a bad habit of stalking, but how was he to have known Milos was a damned cat?
Daimon: Guardians of Hades Series Book 6 Page 10