Dark Taste of Rapture (17 page)

Deep breath in, hold, hold, finally released. “Yes. I’m ready.”

“Okay, then. Here we go.” With that, Noelle kicked open the doors and escorted her best friend down the aisle.

A gasp swept over the crowd, and like a wave, they stood, one row after the other. McKell paced on the dais, his tux ripped at the collar, his tie sagging, as if he’d pulled them both a few times too many. He possessed hair the most luscious shade of indigo, pale skin and eyes of the purest violet.

He was a beautiful man, strong and muscled, toweringly tall, and he was utterly undone by the sight of his bride. He stilled, his gaze locking on Ava, his anxious expression changing to one of awe and reverence. He
didn’t care that everyone saw his reaction, either. He was too proud of his woman.

The little pang returned to Noelle’s chest. McKell hadn’t wanted a best man, or any groomsmen for that matter—none deserved the honor of standing next to him, he’d said—but all of AIR occupied the first few rows.

Noelle nodded to Mia, who looked gorgeous in blue. Beside Mia was her husband, Kyrin, a delicious Arcadian who reminded Noelle of Corban in appearance only. Same white hair, same lavender eyes, and skin the color of a winter storm. But Kyrin thought his woman was perfect and wouldn’t change anything about her.

A movement at the corner of her eye had her glance shifting. Dallas had just reached up to tug on his earlobe. He realized she was watching him and smiled, but there was no amusement in the baring of those teeth. He’d been doing that a lot lately, like at yesterday’s crime scene. Trying to appear nice and polite, but failing miserably. She had no idea why.

Her gaze slid away—and landed on Hector, who stood beside him.

Hector. He watched her intently, warily, as if she were a bomb about to detonate.

And he hadn’t texted her yesterday, so she figured she’d done more damage to the perp than she’d thought.

Why, why,
why
, hadn’t time and Hector’s shitty attitude lessened his appeal, dissolved her fascination, and stopped the draw?

She really
hadn’t
learned her lesson, had she?

He wore a dark pinstriped suit, and her heart fluttered at the sight of him. His eyes were shadowed, almost
haunted—and they were glued to her face. As always, he was frowning.

So badly she wanted to catch a glimpse of his smile. A flash of those dimples, a peek at those straight, white teeth. Teeth he’d once used to bite her bottom lip. Some nights she imagined she still felt the sharp, luscious sting.

His head tilted to the side, his interest gliding from one of her features to another. Her brow, her eyes, her mouth, her chin. Either he was drinking her in, as she had just done to him, or he was fitting puzzle pieces together.

Could he see the pain behind her happy mask? No, surely not. He didn’t know her well enough. Yeah, he saw deeper than any other man, but. … Only Ava saw the real Noelle, and Ava had no idea about the depths of her pain.

“Who gives this woman away?” a male voice suddenly boomed out.

Ava squeezed Noelle’s hand, and she snapped to attention. Shit! They’d reached the end of the walkway, and she’d been twisted like Dallas’s favorite sexual pretzel position, peering over her shoulder for God knew how long, staring at Hector.

Now there was silence. Such expectant silence.

“Uh … what now?” Her voice echoed from the steepled ceiling.

“Who gives this woman away?” the pastor repeated with the utmost patience, as if this kind of thing happened all the time.

Deep down, she wanted to shout “Not me! Never me! And no one else does, either!” but she didn’t. Bile
chugged up her throat again, threatening to spill over, but she managed to say, “Me. I do. In a minute,” she added. “I haven’t yet given my wedding present to the groom.”

“What—” Ava began.

“Come here, you sexy morsel.” She pulled an unresisting, now laughing Ava in for a passionate kiss. That’s how she and Ava had snared McKell, once a target of AIR but now the agency’s biggest asset, after all. They’d distracted him with a girl-on-girl kiss before stunning him, and he’d loved every moment of it. In fact, he’d been pushing for another GOG PDA session for quite some time.

A few members of the crowd gasped. A few whooped. McKell reacted just as before, going taut with excitement. This was the only time he’d share “his woman,” and only with Noelle. Anyone else tried this, and heads would roll.

When she felt they’d pushed the line of scandal to its limit, Noelle straightened and peered down at her bestie, whose smile was brighter than the sun. “You’re welcome.” Trembling, she placed Ava’s hand in McKell’s.

McKell’s grin was just as bright.

“Shall we begin?” the pastor asked, some of his patience gone.

This is it
, Noelle thought, sad for herself and blissfully happy for Ava all at once.
The beginning of the end
.

S
OMETHING WAS WRONG WITH
Noelle. Big time. Hector had known it the moment he’d spotted her.

He remembered her as she’d been yesterday, so damn hot his mouth had watered for a taste of her. Black leather practically painted on her breasts, her flat stomach the tantalizing color of honey and cream, her legs painted with the same leather. He was certain no woman had ever rocked an outfit better. And yet there’d been a gleam of sadness in her eyes as she’d subdued her captive.

Still his cock had reacted instantly. So had his arms, proving she was as dangerous to his peace of mind now as she’d been before. Even when she’d insulted the shit out of him, calling him a slow old man, and lied through her teeth, he hadn’t cooled down.

I’m not old, damn it. I’m in my prime
.

Today’s red dress—holy hell. A fantasy come to dazzling life, revving him up. But once again he noticed the sadness in her eyes. Only now it was amplified.

He sat in his pew and pretended to care about the ceremony while examining her. She was smiling prettily, but her cheeks were pale. She was smiling contentedly, but a line of tension creased her brow. She was smiling, but she was breaking his goddamn heart.

He didn’t know how—he would have placed good odds on his not having a heart—and he didn’t know why. All he knew was that he preferred her wild and silly and yeah, too smart for her own good.

After interacting with her yesterday, he’d craved more. Just a glance, something, anything, so he had finally broken down and watched her interrogation tape from camp. Not the one that had so enthralled Dallas, but the last one. The one Phoenix had overseen.

Hector had flinched every time Phoenix had slammed her fist into Noelle’s midsection. But Noelle hadn’t. Noelle had taken it and thrown out taunts.

Phoenix, who should have known better, had reacted, all emotion and no thought, allowing Noelle to lead her around on a leash. Hector had already realized Noelle was smart and tough, but that even he hadn’t foreseen.

A clip played through his mind.

Phoenix:
You really think you’re AIR material, huh? You think that pretty smile of yours is going to solve cases for you?

Noelle:
Of course. Proof: when I walked into this room my smile solved the case of the mysteriously missing blond agent who only has half a brain
.

Punch.

Phoenix:
Do you like
your
brain slamming against your skull?

Noelle:
More than anything
.

Punch.

Phoenix:
Think your smile will be as beautiful if I pop your front teeth?

Noelle:
Oh, Agent … Blond Girl … Person. The fact that you’d find me so pretty even without my teeth is sweet, but you’re not my type. I like my men with thinner mustaches
.

Brutal punch.

Phoenix:
How’s my mustache looking now?

Noelle:
Who cares? Caress me again. I liked it
.

Really brutal punch.

Hector had been so turned on by Noelle’s attitude, his arms had glowed and he’d had to take care of himself. Twice.

Damn it, pushing Noelle away had been the stupidest, most intelligent thing he’d ever done.

After their second near miss that night at camp, he’d told Mia to take him off instructor duty or he’d quit AIR for good. Usually Mia didn’t take ultimatums well, but in this, she’d caved. Maybe because she’d sensed his desperation.

Once he’d arrived home, he’d gotten himself under control. On his own. And he’d remained mellowed out, except for the few times he’d run into Noelle at HQ.

Other agents had flirted with her, and she had flirted back. But if she was dating anyone—seriously or otherwise, not counting the imaginary Don Carlos—he didn’t know it. And he didn’t like that he didn’t know.
He didn’t like the thought of her with someone else, in any capacity, either. Especially not the imaginary Don Carlos! And he knew the bastard was imaginary. Noelle’s eyes took on a pearlescent sheen every time she lied, and they’d looked plucked straight from the sea when she had mentioned him.

Dallas used to flirt with her, but that had stopped a few weeks ago, after they’d all run into each other at a bar after hours. As if the pair had seen each other naked, but had argued and parted ways.

The thought alone enraged Hector. He flattened his hands on his thighs before he did something stupid. Like ask in the form of punching. The answer didn’t matter.
Couldn’t
matter.

Even as a teenager, with more hormones than brains, he’d known he was better off keeping females at a distance, and he’d succeeded. Until Kira. From the worst of the streets herself, she’d wanted, needed, a protector. Someone to keep her safe, to scare away anyone who thought to rape her. Someone to make sure she had a place to stay. So she’d charmed him and he’d fallen.

He’d tried to be careful with her. For a while, they’d kept things nice and easy. A kiss good night, a kiss hello. Then they’d graduated to a little heavy petting. His arms hadn’t acted up too badly, and she’d hinted that she wanted to take things further, so he’d decided to go for it.

One night, as they made out, he’d stripped her, then stripped himself. His first skin-to-skin contact, and oh, had he been excited. The heat had intensified, but he hadn’t realized how much. Until he’d reached up and
cupped her breast. His arm had already atomized, so he’d gone through her and hit the mattress springs. She had died instantly, her heart rendered useless.

Seeing her like that … he’d never been the same. What little hope he’d carried for making a relationship work had gone up in flames with her. And to be honest, no one had ever tempted him to try again. Until Noelle. But …

His fear was simply too great, too deeply rooted. The fact that he craved her far more intently than he’d ever craved Kira only freaked him out more.

If he hurt her, burned her, he would never be able to forgive himself. Would never recover. That’s why he’d done everything in his power to make Noelle hate him. Avoiding her at the office, making snide comments when they ran into each other.

Well, mission accomplished, he thought now.

Yesterday, they’d been all about the awkward polite. As if they’d never kissed. Never pressed their bodies together, straining, rubbing, both of them ready to explode.

“Be honest,” Dallas whispered. “Are you imagining that red dress on your bedroom floor?”

He would not reply. Would not voice the words that would undermine his good intentions.

“Because I am,” his friend admitted miserably.

He fucking would not reply. Not his agreement, and not a warning. What good would warning another man away do him? None, that’s what. Hell, if anything, a warning would only make things worse for himself.

Dallas would expect him to act on his attraction.
And if he didn’t, well, he’d open the door for Dallas to act on his.

“Don’t be mad, but I can’t seem to help myself. I want her.”

Okay, so the door was already open. “Why would I be mad?” The words escaped loud, gravelly, and pissed as hell, drawing stares and a few hushes. Better question: how would he stop himself from ripping his friend’s face off?

Noelle had called dibs on Dallas, which meant she was attracted to him. Wanted him in return. Would probably like being stripped by him, touched by him. Tasted by him.

If she hadn’t been already.

He whispered fiercely, “Have you two … ?”

“No,” Dallas answered, and he relaxed.

Dallas
is
your friend
. Maybe Hector’s only friend. Dallas knew about his arms. Hector had finally broken down and revealed all. While working a case together, Dallas had used a few unexplainable abilities of his own, moving faster than the eye could track, controlling people with his voice, shit like that.

Apparently Dallas was part otherworlder.

I wish there were an explanation for me
. Though he’d kept searching, he’d found nothing. But he’d wanted Dallas to know there were others out there, that he wasn’t alone with his differences, and Hector had never regretted sharing. They’d bonded over it, almost like brothers.