Dark Kiss Of The Reaper (17 page)

Instead of asking again, she nodded and walked through the door to see what other wonders might exist. The adjoining bath was a study in opulence. Sunk into the marble floor was a pool large enough for three or four bathers. Or one average sized mortal and one large Reaper. Steam rose in lazy swirls from the crystal blue depths, heating the room with a sensuous, inviting warmth. The urge to shed her clothes and indulge was nearly irresistible. She didn’t doubt he’d follow her lead.

“It’s fed from an underground hot spring.”

She jumped, not so much startled by his presence as she was at being caught with her head full of wicked thoughts.

“Oh.” She giggled nervously. She was alone. With him. In his house. In his world.

Every muscle in her body thrummed with the night’s potential.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He leaned against the doorframe, filling the passage.

“I was just lost in how beautiful this all is.” Her fingers trailed the marble ledge holding thick white towels. She ran her hand over them, not surprised by their velvety softness. Everything in his world was the best of its kind.

So what was she doing here?

He tipped his head toward the adjacent wall and the robe that hung from a hook there. “That’s for you, too.”

The snow-white robe bore an elaborate calligraphy S over the breast. She traced a finger over the silver embroidery. “You did do all this for me, didn’t you?”

His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “And if I did?”

Was he worried he would scare her away with so much attention? Moving away from the robe, she stepped closer to splay her hand over his heart. “Then I’m a very lucky woman.”

He covered her hand with his own. The contact made her want more.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” His mouth crooked. “I should probably stop cursing the Fates, though.”

If he kissed her now, they’d end up in that sinful nest of a bed in the other room.

“I love you, Sara. I know you’re not ready to say that back to me...maybe you’ll never say it to me, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.”

The fullness in her heart made her head spin. Being loved like this was an intoxicating thing. She leaned in, letting him support her, and stared at their joined hands. “I think I do love you, but it scares me.”

“I scare you?”

“No, not you. Loving you. I barely know what it means to be in love, let along with a man like you.” She met his shining gaze and understood something new had begun between them in that moment. A course of action set into motion she was powerless to stop.

“What do you want it to mean?”

“Safety. Security. Joy. Passion. A life of happiness and contentment.” She smiled. “I want it all.”

He raised her fingertips and brushed them across his lips. “I can give you that and more.”

She wondered about the truth of that. Not that she thought he lied, just that what he meant and what she wanted might be two different things. What about children? Were they included in his ‘more’? She didn’t want to delve any deeper for fear she’d ruin the time they had together. What she wanted at the moment was something far more temporal.

More physical.

More wicked.

“So...” She held his dark gaze, let her deepest desires rise into her eyes. “Your room is across the hall?”

Chapter Fifteen

The heat in Azrael’s belly had nothing to do with the temperature of the guest bath. Sara’s heady gaze had kindled a fire so fierce, it could burn them both down. He shoved open the doors to his chambers, waited for her to enter, then secured them again.

He tried to see the room through her eyes. His personal space was nothing like the rest of the house. No heavy tapestries or ornate gilded mirrors hung from the walls here. Clean, simple lines dictated the few pieces of furniture, his bed, the leather chaise before the fire, the writing desk and chair. Even the pattern of the rugs was simple. The colors here were born of shadow; soft grays, muted blues, some black.

She drew her hand along the leather chaise, nodding as she drifted toward the balcony. “It’s very you, I have to say.”

Firelight flickered in the panes of the balcony doors, outlining her where she stood peering into the dark. Night had arrived, removing the last of twilight’s soft glow.

“Is that a good thing?” He moved to stand behind her, wanting to touch her, but knowing when he did, he wouldn’t stop.

“Yes,” she answered without turning. “I think it is. What’s beyond these doors? What’s the view? I’m so turned around I don’t know what direction I’m facing anymore.”

He reached past, turned the knob and pushed. “The back of the house overlooks the fields and beyond to the river dividing my land from my brothers.”

She walked out to the carved stone balustrades, leaning forward with her hands planted and her shoulders drawn up. “I didn’t realize you all lived in the same place, but I guess that makes sense, doesn’t it?”

After a few steps, he stopped with enough distance between them to assure they made it to dinner. “There is only one Underworld, but my brothers’ lands are very different from mine.”

“I like your home.” She tipped her head back to the star encrusted sky. At least his world had that much to offer her. “They look close enough to touch,” she murmured. “So much bigger and brighter than at home.”

“You outshine them.”

She laughed softly. “You say the sweetest things.”

He stayed were he was, although he longed to pin her against the balustrades and discover the wonders of mortal flesh. He swallowed hard. “We should go down for dinner.”

She turned, replanted her hands on the rail and stared into him as though she knew he struggled to keep from ravishing her and didn’t care. Maybe she didn’t.

Maybe she struggled too.

“Hmm, yes, dinner.” She glanced down at her clothes. “I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately for dinner in a house like this.”

“You look fine.” Better than fine, and speaking of dinner, good enough to eat. He wanted his hands on her skin, his mouth on her—

Her head snapped up. “Did you just growl?”

“Must have been my stomach.” He motioned back toward the doors. “Shall we?” The sooner they ate, the sooner they could have dessert.

As he’d requested, his staff had set a small round table in the great room. The dining room was too large, the table too big. Being close to Sara was paramount.

From the crystal stemware to the solid sterling settings, the table was perfect. Shades might not make great company, but they were excellent house staff. He pulled out her chair to seat her, then seated himself.

Vitus came from the shadows to fill their wine glasses, then the meal service began. Sara gushed over the wine, the food, the place settings...it seemed he had done everything right.

Until dessert.

Her smile faded slightly as Vitus set the pear poached in champagne and drizzled with raspberry sauce before her.

“Something wrong?” Azrael asked.

“No, everything’s wonderful.” She nudged the pear with her spoon.

“You don’t like fruit?”

“I love fruit. It’s very good for you.”

He grinned, suddenly aware of his error. “But it’s not chocolate, is it?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Chocolate is a weakness. But ignore me. This is lovely, really.”

He sat back, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “What would your ideal dessert be? More of that coffee ice cream?”

“You can never go wrong with coffee chocolate chip, but for a meal like this it’s probably a little too ordinary. Maybe something like one of those gooey chocolate volcano cakes, or some sort of triple chocolate mousse.”

He nodded toward her plate. “You mean like that?”

Glancing down at the mound of chocolate decadence now in front of her, she exhaled sharply. “How did you do that?”

“This is my world.” He shrugged, watching with pleasure as she dug in. “My power here is almost limitless.”

“Mmmmm...” She pulled the empty fork from between her lips and sighed. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted.” She took another bite, licking an errant dribble of chocolate sauce from her bottom lip.

Azrael’s groin tightened as if she’d licked him.

“If this is life in the Underworld, I think I’m ready to die.”

He straightened. “Don’t say that, Sara. Mortal life must run its course or—”

“I know, I know.” She waved her fork at him. “The whole Shade thing. I was just kidding. But I do like it here. At first I thought it was a little gloomy, but now I’m thinking it’s just...” She waved her fork again. “Atmospheric.”

Maybe she knew there was no daylight here? He let that thought be, if only to keep from telling her the truth of his sunless world.

She scooped up another bite of dessert and offered it to him. “You really should try this. It’s delicious.”

He leaned forward. “You’re the only sweet I want.”

She fluttered her lids and fanned herself with her hand. “My, my, Mr. Reaper, you do know how to woo a girl, don’t you?” She laughed, the most wonderful sound ever to echo in the halls of his home. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m pretty much a sure thing.”

“A sure thing?” Some mortal expressions eluded him.

She finished another bite of dessert, then shook her head, her cheeks coloring. “Never mind.”

She tipped her head toward the piano. “Is that just for show or do you play?”

“I play.”

“Really?” Her brows lifted in shock.

“And that surprises you because?”

“I don’t know...it just never occurred to me that the Grim Reaper would play the piano. And human guys who look like you are usually into sports and working out and, well, not playing the piano.” She stared at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to play something for me?”

“What? No.” He’d never played for anyone. Certainly, the Shades overheard when he played, but they didn’t count. His music was private. Just for him. And probably not very good.

“No? Why not?” A bemused smirk bent her mouth.

“It’s not something I do for...guests.”

“Well, of course it isn’t. You’ve never had guests. Now you do.” She stood up, walked to piano and drew her finger across the keys in a slow scale. “And I want to hear you play something.”

He sighed and crossed his arms, forcing back a grin. “Maybe this is
why
I don’t have guests.”

Narrowing her eyes did nothing to diminish the mischievous light in them. “Yes, I think you’re right. Your lack of hospitality must have something to do with it.” She plopped down on the bench and plunked out a halted rendition of
Chopsticks
.

“As you wish,” he called over the racket as he stood.

She stopped playing and scooted to one end of the bench, patting the empty spot. “It’s all yours, maestro.”

“Chocolate makes you wicked.”

“You should see what champagne does to me.”

He focused his attention and instantly an ice bucket on a stand appeared beside the piano, complete with a frosted bottle of bubbly. Two glasses rested on the piano top.

“Very impressive.” She plunked a key. “Play now, drink later.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “If you’re really good, maybe we’ll drink that bottle in the tub.” She laughed and blushed, covering her mouth with her hand.

He focused a second time, mentally adding a plate of fine chocolates to every room in the house, including both of their nightstands. When the night was over, she’d be too tired to blush. He flexed his fingers. Channeling everything he felt for Sara, he began to play.

The music poured out of him, lush and aching. Full of longing and desire. It suffused the room. The house. His world.

His woman.

Sara’s eyes were closed, her head tipped back and to the side. The flush had slipped from her cheeks and down to the glimpse of skin visible above the neckline of her ivory top. Dessert indeed.

Her hand lifted to her throat, her fingers touching the pendant he’d given her.

He played on, weaving his power into the notes until he could feel them sweep across her skin as if his hands glided over her. He became the music and she became his instrument. Softer and slower, then more insistent, he played her until she quivered beside him.

The heat of her frenzied body radiated into him as he finished. Not until the last notes died away did she open her eyes.

“What...what was that?”

Foreplay, he thought. “Didn’t you like it?”

“Like it? I think I almost...” She trailed off, fanning herself. “Never mind.” She exhaled hard. “I’ve never heard music that sounded like that. I could feel it in every cell of my body.”

He commanded new music to fill the air, something slow and deliberate. At the first notes, he stood and held out his hand to her.