Claire Delacroix (25 page)

There was one way to be sure.

Baird captured the nipple with purpose again, then spread his fingers and speared them through the nest of blond curls at the apex of her thighs. He slid his arm beneath Aurelia, holding her fast against his side. Aurelia arched back and gasped when his fingers found the wetness awaiting him there.

Baird caressed and cajoled, loving the way the little pearl hidden there tightened beneath his touch. Aurelia twisted harder beneath him, she arched and clutched at his shoulders.

Baird cupped the back of her head, lifting her lips for a deep and searching kiss. Aurelia clung to him, kissing him as though she couldn’t get enough of him. Baird’s tongue plundered her sweetness and Aurelia’s tongue played in counterpoint.

His fingers danced and Aurelia gripped his shoulders suddenly. She arched right off the bed with the force of her orgasm and Baird swallowed her cry with satisfaction.

Aurelia fell back gasping against the mattress. Baird cupped her breast and felt the pounding of her heart beneath his hand. His own pulse matched its pace as he bent and brushed his lips across hers.

Aurelia’s eyes opened sleepily. Baird had never seen them so darkly blue. “I never imagined,” she whispered huskily and Baird grinned.

“I can imagine a lot more,” he teased.

Aurelia’s eyes flashed with mischief, giving almost no warning before she had rolled Baird to his back.

“As can I,” she murmured throatily. She sat astride him, her feet wriggling against his buttocks. She smiled at him, then closed both hands around him. Baird moaned and closed his eyes. He whispered her name, only to find her soft breasts against his chest.

Baird caught his breath in anticipation as Aurelia perched above him, and then with one breathtaking move, impaled herself on his throbbing erection. The slick heat of her swallowed him in one gulp, caressed him and surrounded him with softness and warmth.

“Aurelia!”

Baird gripped her buttocks with both hands just before her lips locked over his. He was beside himself with desire, more enflamed that he had ever been before.

He had been waiting for this woman.

And he had known her from first glance.

Aurelia moved, launching a symphony of pleasure and drawing him deeper into her with every stroke. Baird twisted against the mattress, willing this moment to last, yet unable to imagine surviving her sweet torture for long.

He had to make sure he pleased her again.

They moved together in an ancient rhythm, their breath synchronized, their gazes locked. Baird slid his thumb between the two of them and found Aurelia’s secret pearl once more. She smiled with a delight that warmed him to his toes and rode him even harder.

He felt the shimmer of Aurelia’s hair spill over the pair of them, like a net snaring him in her allure. She was all moonlight and magic, her spell of enchantment snaring him in silver cobwebs.

And Baird didn’t even want to break free. Aurelia’s tiny hands wandered over his skin, caressing and teasing, her lips drove him to distraction. She touched everywhere at once, it seemed, stoking his passion to an intensity he had never known before.

Her feet slid down the length of his legs and Baird’s blood boiled. Baird hung on stubbornly, feeling as though he would burst his own seams if he got any larger. The back of her waist was smooth beneath his hand, her clitoris hardened abruptly beneath his thumb.

Aurelia cried out in ecstasy, stretching for the canopy overhead with both hands. Her breasts bobbed, her hair snared the moonbeams and her delectable toes dug into his thighs.

The vision of her snapped the last cord of Baird’s control.

He locked his hands around Aurelia’s waist as he thrust into her welcoming heat. Baird heard himself bellow her name, felt his fingers grip her softness, and he finally let Vesuvius erupt.

And the magic had only just begun.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Aurelia watched Bard sleep beside her as she toyed indecisively with the knife.

Bard had heard the blade fall, that much Aurelia knew, but in the moment she had managed to distract him from investigating the sound. Would he recall it later? Would he guess what she intended to do?

How she wished that she could read his thoughts as easily as he read hers!

Because now Aurelia was sorely confused. Bard’s features were resolute even in sleep, his firm lips only slightly relaxed. Aurelia liked to see his dark hair so tousled, even more now than when he shoved his fingers through it.

Bard’s strong hand rested on her belly, the curve of his fingers possessive, his skin warm against her own. Aurelia was surrounded by his heat and his scent. After what had been between them, she could not bring herself to plunge the blade into the blackness of Bard’s heart.

Could a man of such evil intent have loved her so thoroughly? Aurelia could not believe it. Theirs had been no foul mating, no forced and painful coupling, but an odyssey of pleasure.

She should have been ashamed to find herself hungry for more, but Aurelia was not. Instead, she questioned all her foregone conclusions about the man who slept beside her.

He had shown her only honorable behavior, in this as all other things.

Was it possible that Bard, son of Erc, was not the villain she believed him to be? Was it possible that he had not been responsible for the death of Thord?

Or was Aurelia merely being skillfully manipulated?

She chewed her lip and watched Bard sleep, her mind riddled with doubts. When he stirred, Aurelia slid the knife beneath the bed, its movement making no sound on the plush carpeting.

She could not strike a blow that might ultimately prove to be an error, however fatal a choice that might prove to be.

Bard’s hand slid slowly over Aurelia’s belly, then closed over her breast. She caught her breath as his thumb did its magic and watched him smile. He opened his eyes and regarded her drowsily, his green gaze unnaturally dark.

“So, you weren’t a dream, princess.” His voice was low with a satisfaction that made Aurelia flush self-consciously.

“I thought you did not dream.”

Bard arched one dark brow. “I never used to.” His hand slid over her belly as he smiled. “Maybe I just didn’t have anything worth dreaming about.”

Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat, but before she could say anything more, Bard disappeared beneath the duvet. She felt him nuzzle her pubic hair and caught her breath.

“Breakfast of champions,” he murmured inexplicably.

Then Aurelia gasped at the heat of his tongue there.

She grasped two fistfuls of his hair, intent on pulling him away, but when he caressed her again, Aurelia forgot all about stopping him.

There was no harm in seeing what he intended, after all.

“I thought you did not like mornings,” she said breathlessly.

“I think I may have underestimated them,” came the growl from beneath the covers.

Aurelia leaned back against the pillows and clutched the linens as his tongue made its mark. “I may have underestimated them myself,” she managed to murmur, certain she had never started a day in such fine style.

Bard did not answer, his tongue resolutely exploring new ground. Aurelia shivered with delight as Bard captured one of her feet in each hand, his thumbs stroking her instep in a seductive caress.

On some level, Aurelia conceded that this deed was not the choice of a selfish man.

Then she forgot everything other than Bard’s tongue.

The heat rose beneath Aurelia’s flesh, just as it had the night before, but so much more quickly. She writhed and twisted, straining toward release but never wanting this moment to end.

Neither Bard nor his tongue granted her any quarter. He placed one of her feet on his enormous erection and the awareness of his arousal cast Aurelia over the precipice.

She cried out and gripped his shoulders, certain she would drown him with her release. Aurelia was stunned by both the force and the haste of her climax.

She looked down with some embarrassment to find that half-smile tugging at Bard’s lips as he regarded her from under the bed linens.

Had there ever been a man with such allure? Aurelia smiled back, well aware of the flush that stained her cheeks.

Bard reached up and flicked a finger across the tip of her nose with an affection that melted her heart. “What do you say we blow this Popsicle stand, princess? We could mosey into town after breakfast...”

“You had your breakfast, champion.”

Bard chuckled. “Well, you’re probably hungry.” Aurelia’s stomach growled in approval of that sentiment. “Then we can have a good look for your father.”

“My father?” Aurelia blinked at this sudden return to practicalities.

“Hekod. You remember him.” Bard cast himself up on the pillows beside her and rolled to his back. “I tried to phone the police station yesterday, but I couldn’t get anything sorted out over the phone. We’ll have to go down there to get anything done.” He flicked her a bright glance. “Any objections, princess?”

How could she protest a day in this man’s presence? Although Aurelia told herself she only agreed so that she could study his true character, a part of her denied the justification.

All the same, she would go.

“No.”

“Then, it’s a date.” Bard rolled Aurelia beneath him before she could say anything else, bracing himself above her on his elbows. Aurelia’s heart began to beat a staccato at the sensual promise in his eyes.

“But first,” he whispered, a wicked glint in his eyes, “maybe we should work up an appetite.”

Bard bent his head to capture her lips and Aurelia twined her arms around his neck. She was lost in the circle of this man’s embrace and, for the moment, did not want to be found.

* * *

Baird was whistling under his breath as he poured his coffee. The world was filled with promise. In fact, he didn’t know when he’d felt better in the morning.

He hoped Aurelia would hurry.

The sound of a footstep made his head snap up, but it was only Julian. The lawyer’s eyes widened at the sight of the
Wall Street Journal
and he pounced greedily on it.

“Ah, the lure of civilization!” he crowed and cradled the bundle of newsprint like a long-lost lover.

The comment reminded Baird of his dream the night before and he toyed with the idea of asking Julian’s thoughts. ”It’s a week old,” he acknowledged absently.

Julian checked the date but didn’t look overly disappointed. “But a mere week ago, this paper was in the civilized world.” He poured coffee with a flourish. “Not its cradle, mind you, we’d need the
LA Times
for that, but still closer to the pulse than you or I have been in recent memory.”

“You don’t have to stake turf,” Baird said amiably. “It’s all yours.”

Julian fired him a knowing glance. “Are you all right?”

“Never better.” Baird grinned and Julian frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so cheerful before ten.” Julian waggled his eyebrows. “If that.”

“Maybe I just had a good night’s sleep.”

Julian remained unconvinced, but the lure of the
Journal
was too much for him. “Uh-huh.” He unfolded the paper and buried his nose in it with undisguised delight. “God! A sale at Bloomies and I missed it. The things I do for this company...”

Baird cleared his throat. If he didn’t ask now, he never would. “Julian, do you know anything about reincarnation?”

Julian lowered the paper so that he could glare pointedly over its top. “Baird, I’m from California. Affectionately known as LaLa land. What do you think?” He lifted the paper again and snapped it pertly.

“Well,” Baird had a hard time even voicing the question. “Do you think there’s anything to it?”

Julian dropped the paper and stared at him. “You might look like Baird Beauforte,” he whispered, “but you sure don’t sound like him.” The lawyer’s eyes narrowed and he scanned the hall with mock suspicion. “Where’s your pod, Alien? And what have you done with my friend?”

“Come on, Julian, I’m serious.”

Julian was not persuaded. “What’s in your coffee this morning?”

“Nothing. Really, I’m serious about this. What do you think of that stuff?”

Julian eyed Baird for a long moment, then shrugged. He coughed politely. “I don’t see any reason why it couldn’t be true. It’s not like we have legal affidavits of what happens after we die.”

Baird traced a pattern on the table top, fighting against the insistence of an intuition he didn’t like to acknowledge. “So, places and people could be familiar because we knew them before.”

“Yeah, well, why not?”

Why not.

Baird realized his finger was tracing the pattern of whorls that was tattooed on Aurelia’s own palm and stopped instantly. “Well, have you ever had the feeling that you knew someone before?”

Julian’s eyes appeared above the paper again and his tone was sardonic. “You mean like, my eyes met hers, my heart went thump, and I knew right then right there that we were destined to be together for all time, despite the odds?”

Baird felt the back of his neck heat. He should never have even brought up the subject. “You’re right. It’s dumb. Just forget I said anything.” He stirred his coffee, wishing he could just drop through the floor.

Or that Julian would stop gaping at him.

Finally, Julian cast aside his paper with a noisy rustle, his manner surprisingly aggressive. “Okay, okay, you want to talk about this? I had one time - one time! - that I thought I had met someone before. It was weird as hell, but I’ve never forgotten it, so, you could say that I do think there’s something to this stuff.” He scrambled for the paper again and glared at Baird. “Happy?”

“Who was it?” Baird’s question was soft. His skin was tingling with a strange certainty of what Julian would say.

For the first time in living memory, Julian looked uncomfortable with the prospect of speaking his mind. “Remember that first day at university?”

Baird nodded and didn’t dare to breathe.

Julian licked his lips and frowned, his voice dropping low with his confession. “I sat beside you because I felt like I knew you already, like we were already good friends, even though I had never met you before in my life. It was nuts, but in that moment, I was sure of it.” He frowned at his coffee cup, then flicked a glance to Baird. “And I’ve never forgotten that.”