Grave Attraction (19 page)

A
fter a bit of creative rescheduling, Marlena met with the twins two hours earlier than planned and showed them ways to tighten security around their restaurant.

They already had a couple cameras installed, but she recommended they add a few more to give better coverage around the parking lot and along the rear by the dumpster. The bigger problem was from the lack of lighting behind the building, though it wasn't anything three or four well-placed floodlights couldn't solve. Finally, she stressed the importance of having all of the employees leave at the same time after closing to ensure safety in numbers.

When they finished, the twins insisted she stay for dinner, and by the time Marlena stepped into her apartment it was a few minutes shy of seven. She'd called Adam as soon as she locked the front door, and he said he'd be there by eight.

But here it was, fifteen minutes past eight, and still no sign of Adam. Maybe he got stuck in traffic or was working late on a difficult assignment. He was a reaper, after all, and his job was far from ordinary. Or maybe he'd changed his mind and didn't want anything to do with her. The latter option put a knot in her stomach.

She was thinking of calling him again when she heard the rumble of a truck in the parking lot. Crossing to the window, she peered through the blinds and saw Adam's black pickup swing into the spot next to her car. The engine shut off, he stepped out of the cab, and her heart nearly gave out at the sight of him. He wore faded blue denim and a black T-shirt that accentuated his lean, muscular chest. His short brown hair was windblown, leading her to believe the truck's air-conditioning was still on the fritz. And in his hands was a bakery box with the Polish restaurant's logo on the side.

Stepping away from the blinds, Marlena drew a deep breath and ordered herself to get a grip. He was here, which meant he wanted to talk, which meant they still had a chance.

The doorbell rang, and she shook off the last of her nerves before opening the door.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said, sounding sincere. “Traffic on Colonial was a beast.” He handed her the bakery box, the bottom warm from the pastries inside. “Apple strudel, as promised.”

“Thanks. And thank you for coming.” Just looking at him made her knees weak. She opened the door wider so he could enter. When he passed, she smelled the faint remnants of his aftershave and fought the temptation to lean closer. She shut the door and set the box on the counter. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He turned to face her and shook his head. “No, thanks. Maybe later.”

There was a long, awkward stretch of silence where she didn't know what to say to fill the void. Finally, she blurted, “I take it you have questions?”

“Yeah.” He blinked, and his focus moved away from her eyes, slowly taking in her appearance. He had on his cop face, making it impossible to tell what was going on inside his head. Then he coughed as he took a seat on the couch and crossed one ankle over his knee. “How long have you known my soul was bonded with yours?”

That was easy. “Since the first time you came to Cassie's house. I sensed something as soon as I opened the door, but I didn't recognize what it was until I saw you sitting in the living room with Dmitri.”

His gaze sharpened. “I really wish you'd said something earlier.”

“Like what? ‘Hey, you don't know me, but I'm your soul mate'? How well do you think that would have gone over?”

Adam nodded, conceding the point. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it without speaking.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I don't want to ask anything that'll bring up bad memories.”

“Trust me, you can't get any worse than what we covered last night.” Granted, she'd done a lot of things she wasn't proud of, but all of those memories paled in comparison to being burned at the stake. Not wanting to crowd him, she sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Go on, ask away.”

His lips pressed together, and something flickered in his eyes as if he were mentally debating what to ask. He slid closer, and the feel of his hand gripping hers warmed her entire body. “I suppose we can pick up where we left off. Tell me what happened after Christopher died. How did you survive on your own?”

Marlena stared down at their joined hands as her mind traveled back to the past. “It took almost two weeks for the burns to heal. Once they did, I returned to the village at night. At first, I only went for food and supplies, but then I went back for retribution. Reverend Finch had already left, so I took out my vengeance on the people who'd participated in the trials.” If she closed her eyes, she could still see the terror on their faces when she woke them in their beds. Before slitting their throats, she made sure each one knew who she was and why she was there. “One of them told me where the witch finder was heading, so when I finished, I set off in that direction.”

“How many did you kill?”

“Seven, including the judge who sentenced us to death and the man who lit the fire.”

She looked up, fully expecting to find him horrified by what she'd done. But instead, she saw understanding on his face, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Did you ever find the reverend?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I searched for almost ten years without any luck. There were rumors that he died of the pox, but I also heard he was subjected to his own tests and executed as a witch. I never found out which one was true.” Personally, she hoped it was the latter. The bastard deserved to suffer the same misery he'd inflicted on countless others.

“What did you do after that?” Adam asked, urging her to continue.

“For a while, I traveled with a group of Gypsies.”

His jaw went slack. Clearly, that wasn't the answer he'd expected. “Gypsies?”

She held back a laugh. “You got a problem with Gypsies?”

“No, not at all. I'm just having a hard time picturing you dressed as one.”

“That's because you're thinking in stereotypes. In reality, they dressed just like everyone else.” During that time the Romani people, also known as Gypsies, were widely persecuted across Europe. Some countries subjected them to ethnic cleansing, while others deported them to the new world. The band she traveled with eventually headed east to Russia, where they were treated more fairly as long as they paid their taxes.

Putting down roots was her cue to leave, and she spent the next century wandering through Europe, never staying in any one place for long until she found herself in Ireland. Once there, she fell in love with the city of Dublin, but the Great Famine drove her to a ship destined for the United States. And there she remained, moving every decade or two before the locals realized she didn't age like everyone else.

She lifted her gaze, meeting his, and the mate bond strengthened from a faint pulse to a strong, steady rhythm. Sensual awareness flashed through every nerve in her body, quickening her heart rate and making her hot for his touch. Edgy and restless, she licked her lips, and his eyes tracked the movement.

“You sure you don't want anything to drink?” she asked, her mouth suddenly feeling parched. If she didn't put some distance between them soon, she'd end up doing something foolish. “I was going to get one for myself.”

“If you don't mind, I could use a beer.”

She got up from the couch, crossed to the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Adam followed closely behind, leaning against the counter by the sink. She pulled out two bottles and nudged the door closed with her hip.

“What's this?” Adam asked, and she glanced in his direction. In his hand was the vial of potion Cassie created to restore Christopher's memories.

Marlena's heart leaped into her throat.

“It's nothing.” Struggling to stay calm, she set down the bottles and reached for the potion. “Here, let me—”

His hand closed around the vial. “My name's on it. Tell me what it is.”

Shit. She should have thrown the damn potion away, but with everything going on, she'd forgotten she left it on the counter. And since he wasn't about to let the matter drop, she'd have to put on her big-girl panties and tell him the truth.

Steeling her nerves, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “After I told Cassie about your past lives, she created a potion to restore your memories. Well, Christopher's, actually. She thought you might want to remember the way things used to be between us. When you were ... you know . . .” She made a vague gesture with her hands.

Something shifted in his expression, tightening the angles of his face and darkening the depths of his eyes. “Is it supposed to give me Christopher's memories, or turn me into him?”

“Cassie wasn't sure. It's why I didn't—”

“You want him back that badly?”

“Of course not! Well, I did at first, but not anymore.”

“Oh really? If you didn't want him back, why did you keep it?” The accusation in his voice made it perfectly clear he didn't believe a single word she said. “What were you waiting for, the perfect time to slip it in my drink so I wouldn't know what you were doing?”

“Adam, please. Listen to me.” She gripped his forearm and his muscles bunched at the contact. “I didn't want to use it, but—”

“You know what? I don't want to hear it.” He twisted the lid off and tossed it aside.

“No!” She lunged for the vial, but he held it beyond her reach. Twisting around, he stalked back into the living room, and before she could grab for it again, he tipped the bottle back and swallowed its contents.

On the heels of a gasp, his face puckered up and his eyes pinched tight. “Shit, that's bitter.”

Panic raced through her veins. She couldn't think of anything else to do, so she punched him in the stomach. Hard. The air whooshed from his lungs as his eyes flew open and he doubled over. She hit him again, harder this time, and he let out a guttural groan. Maybe if she forced him to throw up the potion, it wouldn't have a chance to reach its full effect.

When she went in low for another blow, he caught her wrist and yanked her off balance. Before she regained her equilibrium, he whirled her around, shoved her facedown on the couch, and used his weight to pin her. She thrashed, trying to throw him off, but lacked the leverage to be successful.

“You're just going to wear yourself out,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. He grabbed her one free flailing arm and braced it against her side.

“Let me up!”

“Why, so you can hit me again? I don't think so.” He adjusted his weight, making it impossible for her to do anything but stare at the cushions along the back of the couch.

“But you can't—I don't want you to—”

“You don't want me to what?” Slowly, his breathing returned to normal. “It's already done, kitten. Now we'll just have to wait and see how your little potion works.”

Desperation gave way to anger, and Marlena tried to break free a few more times before exhaustion forced her to give up. How dare he hold her down like a petulant child! God help him when he finally let her go. She'd shove her foot so far up his ass his nose would bleed. And to think, she hadn't wanted him to risk losing what made him unique.

The thought vanished from her head at the sound of Adam's gasp. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just—” He gasped again, and then all of his muscles locked up.

“Adam, what's going on?” She wriggled and bucked, trying in vain to get out from under him. In the position she was in, she couldn't see a damn thing but the stupid couch cushions, and her fear and frustration built with each passing second.

A groan tore from deep in his throat, so low it bordered on a growl. His grip on her arms strengthened as he began to tremble. How long it went on, she couldn't say for sure, but when it stopped his body felt hotter than a furnace.

“Adam?” Try as she might, she still couldn't move. “Adam, please talk to me. What's going on?”

It seemed like forever before he answered. A shuddering exhale blew past her ear, then another and another. His heart was racing; she felt it pounding against her back. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strange to her ears.

“Magdala.” He rubbed his face against her hair. “Mmm. Oh, Magdala, how I've missed ye.”

A
nd just like that, Marlena's demeanor went from alarmed to supremely pissed off. “You son of a bitch.”

This time Adam allowed her to break his hold, and she squirmed out from underneath him. He pushed himself to sitting, just in time for her to belt him so hard his head whipped to the side.

“Asshole!”

“What gave it away?” He rubbed the side of his face. Damn, that hurt. Beauty, brains, and a mean right hook. If she liked pit bulls, he'd marry her on the spot. “Did I go too far with the accent?”

The look she shot him was lethal.

“Christopher wasn't from Scotland, you moron. He didn't sound like Groundskeeper Willie. It's not funny. I was scared to death of what his memories might do to you.” Her voice cracked and she slapped a hand over her mouth, and at that moment he felt so ashamed of what he'd done it tore a hole in his heart. She wrapped her other arm around her torso, her eyes staring straight down at the floor as the tears began to fall.

Christ, he'd only meant to give her a little grief about the fucking potion. It had pissed him off to think she wanted to replace him with a previous model. To hear otherwise was a relief, but a part of him still wanted to make sure she cared about him because of who he was instead of who he'd been.

To his surprise, the potion had actually worked. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside his brain and released a flood of hidden memories. Not just Christopher's, but the memories of every other person he'd been in the past four hundred years. Countless images crowded his mind, so fast he couldn't keep track of them all. It was enough to drive him crazy, if he allowed it.

Forcing it all to the back of his thoughts, Adam stood and closed the distance between them.

“Get away from me,” she muttered but didn't resist when he gathered her into his arms. He rocked her gently, stroking her hair while she cried.

“I'm sorry.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. The soft, sweet scent of her invaded his senses and settled his frazzled nerves. “I got so mad because I thought you wanted me to be him.”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. Her arms were limp at her sides, refusing to touch him, but at least she wasn't trying to beat him to a pulp, and the fact gave him a glimmer of hope. “I brought it with me to the Polish restaurant, but I couldn't bring myself to put it in your wine.”

Her breath hitched on a sob. He held her tighter, his cheek against her hair, at a loss for what to do next.

“Cassie's potion worked,” he finally said, and her body went completely rigid. “I might not have regained every single memory, but there's a ton of stuff swirling around in my head.”

No response, and the silence was driving him crazy. Closing his eyes, he focused inward until he saw a clear moment from the past that warmed his soul. “I remember you sitting in a small room beside a fireplace. The outfit you're wearing covers you from neck to toes, and your hair's tucked into some kind of bonnet thing that's a little poofy along the back.”

The sound she made was somewhere between a laugh and a huff. “It was called a biggins. Back then, respectable women covered their hair and dressed modestly when going out into public.”

“Hmm. Thank God we've moved beyond that archaic attitude. You're too damn beautiful to cover up.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair, enjoying the silky feel against his skin. “I remember taking the biggins off your head and undoing the braid in your hair.” Heat flushed his body and shot straight to his groin as the rest of the scene played through his mind. “Do you remember what happened after that?”

She inhaled sharply, her hands moving up to rest on his hips. “If it was like every other night, you helped me out of my bodice and skirts and laid me by the fire in nothing but my shift.”

Oh, yeah. Funny, he couldn't say what he ate for breakfast yesterday morning, but he recalled an event from a past lifetime with piercing clarity. The sounds she made when he sucked her nipples through the thin fabric of her shift. The feel of her body trembling beneath him. The way her back arched when she found release. And with each new memory came a growing desire to claim what was already his.

“I want you, Marlena.” That was an understatement. Already, he was so painfully erect he could barely think in complete sentences. But it was more than just physical arousal. No, it ran far deeper and felt much more intense. Was it the mate bond? Honestly, he had no idea, and at the moment he really didn't care. He skimmed one hand down her back and cupped the curve of her soft, sweet ass. “Do you want me or Christopher?”

If the answer was Christopher, he'd have to take the longest cold shower in the history of man. He wanted her—God, how he wanted her—but not if she was thinking of somebody else. His ego simply wouldn't allow it.

She pulled back far enough to look up at him, her amber eyes filled with raw emotion. “I'd be lying if I said I didn't love Christopher. A part of me always will. He was my mate and my first real love.”

Cold shower it was. Or maybe he'd just dunk his balls in a bucket of ice water.

“Wait, I'm not finished,” she snapped when he started to pull away. Her fingers dug into his hips, holding him in place. “Christopher will always mean the world to me, but he's not the man for me now. I don't think he could handle the woman I've become, just as I couldn't live with a man with ideals still stuck in the seventeenth century.” Her mouth curved up into a crooked smile that was both sexy and endearing at the same time. “It's you I want, you big idiot. Nobody but you.”

Yes, that was the right answer.

Shoving his fingers into her hair, he dipped his head and kissed her fiercely. When she gasped, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, relishing the warmth and sweetness inside. The feel of her lips and the sound of her moan were enough to drive him crazy with desire. He had to have her, right here, right now, and if he didn't he'd probably explode.

His hands slid down the length of her back and gripped the hem of her shirt. He broke the kiss long enough to whip the material up and over her head. With one quick flick, he opened the front clasp of her bra and slipped the garment off. She flushed a little, as if embarrassed by her nudity, but then her eyes met his and all traces of inhibition disappeared. Her back arched when he palmed her breasts, the look of ecstasy on her face nearly making him groan out loud.

“I need you inside me,” she said, her breathing rough and uneven.

“Not yet. You're not anywhere close to ready.”

He kissed her lips, her chin, her jaw, his tongue tracing the line of her collarbone before dropping even lower. He kissed the curves of her breasts, burying his face in the valley between them before licking his way to one of her nipples. Slowly, he sucked the tightened bud into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it again and again until she let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Her hips jerked and her hand palmed the back of his head, urging him to take more.

Like there was any doubt about that. Before the night was over, he planned on taking her every which way he could imagine.

Reluctantly, he moved his mouth away from her gorgeous breasts and kissed a path down the center of her belly. Dropping to his knees, he licked a ring around her navel while his fingers popped the fly of her jeans and opened the zipper. With a tug, the material slid down her toned legs, leaving her in only a pair of lace panties. Pink. G-string. Good Lord, he was one lucky son of a bitch.

He nudged her thighs apart, sliding his palms up her smooth, soft skin before dragging the panties to her ankles. He looked up, and heat pounded in his blood at the sight of Marlena in all her glory. Something exploded inside him, carnal and raw, and at that moment he knew he'd never feel this way about any other woman.

“You're so damn beautiful,” he told her, and she blushed. It shocked him, how a woman who'd been around for so long could become embarrassed over a simple compliment. He made a silent vow to make sure she got used to hearing it at least ten times a day.

He skimmed his hands up her inner thighs, not stopping until his thumbs brushed her sex. She sucked in a breath and he grinned. The rich, musky scent of her arousal permeated the air, filling him with the need to taste her.

“Lean back against the wall,” he said, his voice coming out as a growl.

Marlena shook her head. “Not until you take off your clothes.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I'm naked and you're not.”

Fair enough. Quickly, he stood and stripped off his clothes in record time. “Happy?”

“Hell, yeah.” Her amber gaze roamed over his body with brazen appreciation. When she licked her lips, he couldn't help but imagine the feel of them wrapped around his dick.

“Good, now lean your ass against the wall.”

She let out a low throaty chuckle as she followed his command.

Adam's gaze never left hers as he knelt. With his mouth, he worshipped her, leisurely kissing a path up the insides of her thighs until he reached the juncture between her legs. He guided her right leg over his shoulder, and for a few moments, he couldn't do anything but stare.

When his brain finally kicked back into gear, he skimmed the palms of his hands upward, slipping his thumbs between the folds of her swollen sex and spreading the wetness over her until her legs began to tremble. Then he replaced his hands with his mouth, tasting, teasing, loving the little sounds she made whenever he found a good spot. He groaned at the decadent taste of her, so much better than he'd expected.

Her hips rolled forward, urging him on, her fingers digging into his hair. She was close; he could feel the tremors building inside her and growing stronger with each passing second. The sound of her moans spurred him on as he ravished every inch of her. With his mouth on her clit, he licked and sucked until the climax ripped through her body.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned as her head fell back against the wall. “Oh, God.”

Masculine satisfaction filled him. Relentless, he sucked even harder while she rode out the pleasure, his fingers digging into her hips, holding her body in place. At last, the tremors subsided and the tension in her muscles relaxed.

Slowly, he kissed his way back up her body, savoring the salty taste of her skin. His dick ached with the need to be inside her, but he wasn't quite through with her yet. And before they went any further, he wanted to make sure she was still right there with him and not thinking about a ghost from the past. In one fluid movement, he scooped her into his arms and started toward the bedroom.

“I can walk,” she said, her voice husky and her eyes heavy-lidded.

“Not when I'm finished with you.” He glanced down, enjoying the way her breasts jiggled with every step. When he reached the bedroom, he tossed her on the bed. Laughing, she bounced on her side and rolled onto her belly. A wicked grin lit her face as she looked at him over her shoulder. He dove onto the mattress, and she let out a squeal when he gripped her ankle and tugged her to his side of the bed.

Bending over her back, he nipped the soft skin between her shoulder blades. She shivered, and he slipped one arm beneath her, palming her breast as he drew her up to her hands and knees.

“Who do you want?” he asked.

“Isn't it obvious?”

“No, not good enough.” He wanted her more than air, but not if she was thinking about another man from another century. In all his life, he'd never been the possessive type, but something about her turned him into a fucking Neanderthal. He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, and it pebbled beneath his touch. “I want to hear you say my name. Now, who do you want?”

“Adam,” she breathed.

“Louder.”

Her muscles tensed with a spark of temper. “Adam!”

He smiled against her skin. The scent of her arousal surrounded him, enticing him as much as the feel of her breast in his hand. “That's better. Now tell me what you want, Marlena.”

“Oh, God.” The ragged sound of her voice shot straight to his groin.

“Close, but not quite. Try again.”

She was panting now, her chest rising and falling with each short, labored breath. Unable to resist, he kissed a path up her spine and nibbled the tender flesh at the hollow of her shoulder. His dick rubbed along the seam of her ass, and when she let out a whimper, it took every ounce of his self-control not to give in and fuck her blind. “I'm waiting, kitten.”

“I want—” Her body quivered when he sucked her earlobe. “I want you, Adam. I need you inside me.
Now.
”

Masculine triumph hammered in his veins. Reaching down, he positioned himself so his aching shaft rubbed against her core. The feel of her sex, so hot, so wet, had him cursing under his breath. “Tell me if I hurt you or if you need me to stop.”

“You won't hurt me.”

“You don't know that for sure. Promise to tell me if I do.” Even though it would damn near kill him to stop, he'd do it in a heartbeat if she asked.

“Yes. Fine. Whatever you want.
Please.
”

Jaw clenched, he pushed inside her, one blissful inch at a time. Tight, slick, her pussy flexed around him, her inner muscles milking his dick. When he finally buried himself all the way, he paused to allow her to get used to his size. A long time had passed since she'd last had sex, and his goal was to make sure she experienced so much pleasure she'd want it again and again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, straining to maintain control.