Reawakening (16 page)

And though she’d slept in his bed for the last two nights, always letting her take the lead, they never did anything more than heavy petting. He wanted her with a voracious need—
all
of her—but he would wait until she gave the green light. He’d also debated asking her questions about her past, about what happened when Xavier took her, but he hadn’t wanted to shatter the fragile comradery they’d developed. He’d rather not know and keep her here, than ask and have her run.

They’d each spent the afternoon doing research and making phone calls. Since these women would have been missing before the Internet, they had to do most of this the old fashioned way. Giselle had retrieved her laptop, so they were pulling double duty. They had a surprising amount of information to go on, as the medical staff serving that sick motherfucker had kept very detailed records of each woman taken. Pictures. Blood work. Area of the country from which they were abducted. Even DNA, once that became available in the late 70s and early 80s.

But the critical pieces of information they didn’t have were specifically related to Xavier’s fertilizations, as those records were a lot less accurate. Guess he’d wanted all traces of his inadequacies eradicated. And, they had no names of the missing. Each woman was assigned a number instead, like the sick little science experiments they were. It was disgusting.

So because they had no names and were still missing many records, they had their work cut out for them. This puzzle could take months to solve, if they ever could, but he also didn’t care. As long as it allowed him time to spend with Giselle, he, quite frankly, hoped it took years. Or decades.

Yesterday they’d narrowed down the women that were still captive around the time Sarah was born and with the pictures, could clearly remove those women that, due to nationality differences, couldn’t have possibly been her biological mother.

That left them with four. Three of the four were from the Midwest and the other’s origin was just general East Coast. They’d both agreed to concentrate first on the local three, as it made more sense they would have been taken to the closest holding facility. And two of those three were fairly strong possibilities, both with features that were similar to Sarah’s.

“Okay, I’ve emailed all three pictures to about two dozen major PD’s in the Midwest. Let’s see if we get any hits on those, then we’ll start moving to smaller communities next,” he said, yawning and cracking his sore neck.

They needed names. Their plan after that was to hack into medical records to see if they could get a hit on blood types, or at least exclude any, and if they were really lucky, DNA. It was all a long shot and he wasn’t hopeful they’d have any success.

“You hungry?” he asked, turning toward her. It was after 6:00 p.m. and they’d only had a light lunch. He was starved. For more than just food if he was honest.

She froze, swallowing thickly. When she turned toward him, there was a glow in her bright blues that he’d only seen when she was aroused. Quicker than he could process, she was out of her chair and headed toward the front door, without a word.

“Hey, where the hell are you going?” he yelled, jumping up to follow.

She had the front door half way open by the time he reached her and he slammed it shut with his right hand, while spinning her to face him with his left, her back now flush with the wood.

“What the fuck, Giselle?”

“I … I need to go out for while.”

The vibe she threw off was disturbing. “What for?” he growled through gritted teeth, even though he had a good goddamn idea.

And that would happen over his dead body.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she countered.

“What is this really about, Giselle?” Anger rose by the second, until her eyes strayed to his neck. Fury quickly morphed to white-hot lust and his cock turned hard as a steel rod.

Still holding onto her arm, he drug her to the couch, sat and pulled her astride his lap.

“It will be me or no one,” he gritted out. He couldn’t even believe he was saying this, or—
Jesus
—how
much
he wanted it, but the thought that she would take another man’s blood made him shake with unbridled rage.

“I … I don’t th—”

“Be quiet, Giselle.” He grabbed her face firmly between his hands. “The thought of your mouth anywhere near another man, let alone
on
him, makes me fucking murderous.”

Her breathing sped up. Her eyes shifted between his throbbing pulse and lust-glazed eyes, checking for the truth of his words. Moving her head to his neck, he muttered, “God help me. I want this, baby.”

Then her hot mouth was upon his, her kiss ravenous. They were a flurry of hands and heat and passion. Before he knew it, his shirt was off and his cock was out of its denim confines, being stroked from root to tip for the first time in her strong grip.
Fuck
. If it was like this every time, he’d gladly serve her three square liquid meals a day.

Wet lips trailed eagerly up his neck, sucking hard on his carotid. What he wouldn’t give to have that suction on his aching shaft instead. She struck so quick, all he felt was a fleeting sting before the most intense, euphoric pleasure ever known to mankind flooded his body, setting off an instant and violent orgasm.

“Jesus Christ, Giselle,” he cursed, his hips bucking uncontrollably.

His left hand held her head in place, her lips tightly to his flesh as his right joined hers in milking his cock of every last drop of seed. All too soon he felt the forceful pulls stop and then she erotically ran her tongue across his skin. If men were multiple orgasm creatures that would have set him off again.

Completely spent, his head fell back against the couch and his heavy eyes drifted shut. Giselle’s lips feathered across his jawline up to his mouth and he barely had the energy to kiss her back.

“Are you okay,” she asked tentatively and he laughed.

“Ah, yah. Fucking brilliant.”

Resting her head on his shoulder, they sat in contented silence. He felt the beat of her heart against his chest and the heat of her breath against his skin and was suddenly completely overwhelmed with the love he felt for her. So much so that he couldn’t keep it in if he’d tried. He braced himself for her reaction as he bared his vulnerable soul for only the second time in his life.

“I love you, Giselle,” he whispered.

Chapter 23

Sarah

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Rom’s house was simply incredible. It wasn’t nearly as big as Dev’s, but it felt more like a home. While the house was set high on a hill, trees as far as the eye could see surrounded it entirely as if it’d simply been dropped from the sky directly in the middle of the thick forest. The floor plan was open, with a large kitchen, main room and dining area all sharing the same enormous space. All four walls were made up entirely of windows, which made for an absurd sight.

“The view here is stunning,” she said as she stared into the multi-faceted green gorge.

“It is.” His words feathered against her nape causing goose bumps to spread like wildfire in dry brush. She hadn’t realized he stood so close, craning her neck to look at him. He watched her with blatant desire and she knew the view he was referring to wasn’t Mother Nature.

“Oh.” No smart or flip retort would come fast enough.

“Come. Let’s finish the tour.”

So far they’d been through two levels of the three-story house, which she’d put at about ten-thousand-square feet. The lower level consisted of a typical male’s dream. A giant game room held a pool table, massive big screen TV and a huge bar. The workout room had every piece of equipment ever made, an indoor pool and sauna rounded out that level. The main floor simply held the kitchen, main living and dining spaces, Rom’s office, a bedroom and two bathrooms.

“What, no super-secret underground tunnels to show me?” she asked as he ushered her upstairs. According to Kate, both Dev’s old estate and new one had massive underground tunnels and that’s where he held the majority of his meetings with the lords.

“No, beauty. Unlike Dev, I do not like to conduct business in my personal space. No one is allowed here except my staff and security detail.” As they reached the top of the stairs, his large frame pinned her smaller one solidly against the wall. “And you, my Moira,” he breathed, nuzzling her check.

Heady desire drowned all common sense as she turned her head to capture his mouth.

“Christ, Sarah,” he murmured against her swollen lips when they’d come up for air a couple of minutes later. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Stepping back, he looked unsure of what he wanted to do next. Shred her clothes and take her hard against the wall
(for the record, her vote at this point would be hell yes)
, or … well taking her against the wall was all he really looked like he wanted to do
(still voting yes).

Instead, he grabbed her hand and walked so fast, she practically had to run to keep up.

“Bedroom,” he uttered as he opened the door closest to their right, not even stopping so she could actually
see
it.

“Bedroom,” he clipped as he opened the next door up the hallway. Again not stopping. “Bathroom.” He pointed to a third closed door on their right as they traveled a bit further down.

That’s it. There were only four doors on this level and they stood before the last set of cream-colored closed French doors to their left, about two thirds of the way down. As Rom opened them, he stood back for her to enter first and the sight before her was nothing she could have possibly imagined.

The master suite clearly took up half of the upstairs space and was so spacious, even the oversized king bed straight ahead looked small from here. The left wall was once again floor to ceiling windows and she didn’t see any blinds, so she wondered how Rom slept because even the moonlight would be very bright.

A sitting area lay just to the right. Also with floor to ceiling windows, it was a cozy nook area that was half walled off from the rest of the room. On the half wall was a large bookcase that was stuffed and clearly in no order, as Dev’s library was. Which surprised her. As organized as she imagined Rom would be, clutter didn’t seem to be his thing. An overstuffed black leather chair and sofa completed the area. That seemed to be a theme with Rom. His house was done almost entirely in black and white.

As they walked further into the showy room, he took her into the first room on the right, which turned out to be a giant walk-in closet, probably the size of the living room in her childhood home. Both sides clearly held Rom’s clothes and she couldn’t help but notice not one pair of jeans in sight.
Damn
.

“Do you own anything but stuffy dress clothes?”

“You don’t like the way I dress?” Surprise laced his voice.

Turning around, she quickly added, “Oh no. I mean, yes. Yes, I love the way you dress, but I just didn’t know if you ever did casual, you know? Jeans, tight, stretchy t-shirts, gym shorts?”

“No. I’m in a position of power, Sarah. I must dress the part.”

She couldn’t help the laughter that escaped.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she giggled. “Okay, that’s not true. Do you really think a pair of denims and a t-shirt will diminish the power and danger and control that rolls off you in terrifying, almost paralyzing, waves?”

Confusion drew his brows together.

“The answer is no.” She winked. Turning, she walked further into the spacious area and was surprised when there was a left turn. What she saw pulled her up short. There were hundreds of shoes lining the lengthy wall from top to bottom. And not just men’s shoes. There were women’s shoes as well. She turned back toward Rom, knowing she looked perplexed.

“They are yours.”

“Mine?” Tears gathered in her eyes at his completely over-the-top gesture.

“Yes. I told you that you’d have everything you need here.”

He grabbed her hand and led her through the second part of the walk-in, reserved just for her. She even had her own entrance. The entire space was filled with more shirts, pants, jeans, dresses, skirts and lingerie than she could ever wear.

“Rom, this is too much. I don’t need all this,” she rasped through the thick lump now residing smack in the middle of her throat.

“It’s non-refundable. You must keep it.” He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

“Thank you.” It didn’t seem like nearly the right thing to say, but she had no words.

“Come. We’re not done with the tour.”

Pulling her out of the closet, he showed her the bathroom, which was also ridiculously big. He could throw a huge party in this bathroom alone. A large black tiled walk-in shower was to her left and a long black marble counter with a double sink was to her right. And at the far end of the room was a large white sunken tub with four black pillars that ran to the ceiling. You had to walk up three steps to get into the monstrosity. She could imagine sitting in that tub with a glass of champagne, leaning naked against Rom in the warm bubbly water after they’d made love in it, gazing out the grand glass lined wall into the black inky, star-lit night.

“Sarah, stop,” he growled, sounding as if he was in pain.

She turned. “Stop what?”

“Stop your lurid thoughts. You’re making this very difficult for me to follow your pacing when you think such things.”

“You can hear what I’m thinking?
Every
thought?” she asked incredulously. He was
shitting
her.

A low rumble sounded in his back of his throat. “Many. From the moment we met.”      

“How?”
This was so bad.

He cupped her cheek. “Because you are my Moira and our bodies and souls are bound tightly.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “What if I don’t want you to hear me?”

“I’d like to say when we bond that you’ll get stronger and may be able to shield your thoughts, but I don’t know if that’s the case. I’m very old and very powerful.”