Immortal Trust (24 page)

One bite of the butter-fried fish, and Chloe knew she’d discovered another side of heaven.

*   *   *

Over the rim of his wineglass, Lucan watched Chloe lift the last bite of her meal to her mouth. Despite the smudge of dirt on her cheek and the loose tendrils of hair that tumbled around her face, he found her more adorable than ever. One glass of wine, which she finished before she had eaten even half her meal, served to relax her. And in the following hour he had come to glimpse a different side of the stubborn archaeologist.

With a wistful sigh, she set her fork on her plate and leaned back in her chair. “Oh, Lucan, that was wonderful. Thank you.”

Her smile pleased him more than it should. He found he could not deny she possessed a unique beauty. A classic elegance he had seldom witnessed in the modern women he had occasion to encounter. Looking at her now, as the warm light of candles glowed upon her skin, something down deep in his soul slowly turned in on itself. His blood warmed beneath the glimmer of her eyes. His chest felt tight, as if a large boulder rested squarely atop his sternum. And against his thigh, his cock stirred with awareness of the woman who sat across from him.

“Aye,” he agreed quietly. “Shall we order dessert?”

“Oh, heavens no. I can’t stuff another bite in—I’m too full.” She lifted her glass and took a long drink.

What did he do now? Too many years had passed since he had cause to entertain a woman, and the lessons learned long ago were naught but a distant, vague memory. Yet with their meal completed, he risked the possibility she would take her leave.

He sifted through the occasions his father had entertained and those where he had conquered enemy holdings. Large banquets where men and women feasted until they could not lift themselves from the table and drank from tankards that never ran dry. What came after was debauchery Chloe would certainly not appreciate.

Distantly another memory rose. A time when their beloved king had paid visit to his father. With him came musicians. And the king’s daughter demanded they dance. Lucan had not bothered to learn the steps, but the women fair squealed with joy at the opportunity to move their feet. What he recalled did not seem so very difficult.

He inclined his head toward the television where the music played. “Would you care to dance, Chloe?”

Her gaze held his, laughter brimming in her eyes. “I can’t dance. I’m as bad as a mule trying to do ballet.”

Lucan could not help himself—he laughed. Sitting forward, he set his wineglass on the table, rose to his feet, and extended his hand. “Mayhap then, we shall endeavor to learn together.”

She hesitated for the briefest of heartbeats. But then her smile brightened, and she set her glass aside. Sliding her hand into his, she stood. “Don’t be angry if I step on your toes.”

“Nay,” he answered as he drew her into his arms.

Standing in the small space between the portable dining table and the bed, they swayed together in time to the slow rhythmic melody of a saxophone. He turned her in a circle, his steps mere shuffles to prevent maligning her toes.

Silence settled between them, a comfortable lack of words that conveyed far more than any conversation. Her body melded closer, each slight lift of her foot bringing her deeper into the circle of his arms, until at last she sated the erratic beat of his heart by laying her cheek against his chest. More profoundly content than he could ever remember being, Lucan tucked the top of her head beneath his chin and stroked the length of her back. She fit so perfectly against his body. Each gentle curve a matching counterpart to his harsher build. This moment he would carry with him a lifetime.

“You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever known,” he whispered into her hair.

Her hand came up to settle over his heart. A light laugh accompanied the press of her fingers. “Careful or you’ll have me believing that.”

Lucan slid his hand into her auburn hair. It tumbled around his fingers like spun silk. “I want you to believe it.” He curled his fingers against her scalp and massaged the nape of her neck. “I have never uttered anything more true.” With a gentle pull, he tipped her head back to meet his gaze, hoping beyond all measure she would read the sincerity in his meaningful stare.

Her eyes searched his. Rich and bright, subtle chips of gold drew him into their questioning depths. The air that flowed between them warmed to uncomfortable limits, and Lucan ran his hands down her back to her bottom, where he gathered her flesh into his hands, seeking to fulfill the sudden need to be somehow closer. To feel her silken skin against his palms.

The innocent brush of her hips against his as she moved in time to the music sent a rush of pleasant heat scalding through his veins. His cock filled with want of her, and he closed his eyes to stifle a low groan. Instinctively, he dipped his head to capture her mouth.

Evading his kiss, Chloe turned her head and whispered against his cheek, “I don’t understand.”

His lips found the elegant line of her jaw, and he dusted kisses to the sensitive hollow at the base of her ear. “What is there to not understand? This want of you plagues my waking hours.”

“But last night you said you didn’t—”

“Nay.” He drew back to look once more into those burnished amber depths. “I said I could not be your escape.” Lifting her bottom, he brought her against the hard evidence of his desire. A shudder rolled down his spine, and his body undulated against hers. “I am more than willing to be your reality.”

A delightful gasp tumbled from her parted lips as her hips returned the slow intimate caress. Lucan’s body coiled like a whip against a shock of agonizing pleasure. Yet he did not move. He allowed the full meaning of his words to hang between them, waiting for her to answer. To give him the freedom to unleash the desire that roared through his blood and indulge in the magnificent gift of Chloe, his seraph, the one woman he would spend eternity serving.

She gave him liberty as she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, and with a light tug sought the kiss she had thwarted. Every fiber of Lucan’s body arced with live current. The desperate need to possess everything she offered at once brought his mouth crashing into hers.

Their kiss was feral and untamed. She buried her hands in his hair, her nails scraped against his scalp. And then it was too much, the stillness of their bodies unbearable, the hunger for warm bare skin overwhelming. He gathered her shirt in his hands at the same time her fingers sought the buttons on his. Hands and elbows tangled, becoming more hindrance than remedy. Frustrated beyond all measure, Lucan caught her wrists in one hand, trapped them behind her, and with a low groan pinned her against the sturdy bedpost.

Her back hit the wood with such force she let out a muffled squeak. Distantly aware he had hurt her, Lucan eased the assault of his mouth. On a relieved sigh, he sank his body into hers, grateful for a moment that she could not move. He dragged in a long, haggard breath and broke their kiss to nuzzle his cheek against hers. “Ah, Chloe, I ache for you.”

He trailed his lips down the side of her throat, reveling in the way she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Releasing her wrists, he held her in place with his chest long enough to slide his hands beneath her shirt and caress the smooth skin covering her ribs. When the fabric pulled tight, forbidding him the softness of her breasts, he leaned away to lift her shirt over her head.

No single ounce of shyness flickered in the brightness of her eyes. She held his gaze, made no attempt to move, seemingly aware he needed a moment to simply look at her. To admire the high swell of her breasts beneath a thin gauze of lace. To imagine the way her belly would flatten even more as she arched her back and took him deep inside her. To trail his finger along the waist of her jeans and release the row of buttons there.

“Lucan, I want to touch you,” she whispered.

Aye.

The answer thundered in his head, but the tightness of his throat refused to let it escape. He stepped closer, his breath hard, his hands tight fists at his thighs. Time stood still as she freed the buttons on his shirt and slipped her slender fingers beneath. She pushed the fabric off his shoulders, dragged it down his arms, dropped it on the floor. And then her mouth touched his overheated skin, the scald of her lips both excruciating and gratifying. His heart clanged into his ribs. His shaft filled to painful limits.

Mimicking the way he had touched her, she glided her fingertips over his torso. The softness in her expression captivated him. In all the hundreds of years he had walked upon this earth, he had never witnessed such wonder touch a woman’s eyes. That he could have such an effect rooted him in place with a tremor that ebbed down his spine.

He stood stock still, scarcely able to breathe as she released him from the confines of his trousers and took his swollen cock into her hand. Knowing he should not, but unable to help himself, he glanced down to witness her fingers wrapped around him. He pushed his hips forward, gliding through her gentle hold and staggered beneath an engulfing rush of ecstasy.

What remained of his control snapped. He caught her to him in a crushing embrace. No longer able to tolerate the barrier of their clothing, he shimmied her jeans off her hips. She followed the same unspoken command and undressed him.

Hands and mouth searching, Lucan guided her away from the bedpost. When the backs of her knees touched the mattress, he laid her on the bed. Lost to all that was Chloe, he surrendered to the one thing he wanted more than salvation and nudged her knees apart to nestle his straining erection against the thin fabric of her panties. One press of his hips teased aside the loose material, and he groaned against the warm, moist heat that touched his swollen head.

Yet through the bleary haze of all-consuming desire, he recognized a change in Chloe. The ardor left her kiss. Her hands explored more slowly, her touch light and hesitant. Where she had been eager and willing the night before, she lay beneath him barely moving.

Lucan raised his head and lifted to his elbows. “What troubles you, my sweet?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Though she shook her head and offered him a smile, her voice lacked the same assurance.

He quirked an eyebrow.

“Really,” she murmured as she slipped her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers. “I’m good. It’s just been awhile.”

Though he was not quite convinced, he gave her what she desired.

CHAPTER 22

Chloe pleaded with her mind to shut up and participate in the tremendous ecstasy that rippled through her body. It had been so long. So unbelievably long. Lucan was the best candidate she could dream of to ease her draught. He was tender, handsome, and so delightfully thorough. She couldn’t ask for a better lover. He didn’t hurry her along for his own gratification. Took his time with gentle caresses. Used his mouth to make love to her before he allowed his body to dominate.

She’d like him to dominate her. Like him to do whatever it took to stop the nagging worry that if she allowed this to continue she’d never come back. Somewhere in the heights he took her to, she’d lose her safety net and plummet to a disastrous end.

She looped her arms around his neck and grasped at the flicker of desire that fringed her awareness. This was ridiculous. She had a hot, hard body and a mouth that knew how to give pleasure. No one else would hesitate.

Besides, as late as it was, the idea of going to Julian’s room and facing his inevitable interrogation turned her stomach. She didn’t want to have to explain. Didn’t want to hear his admonishment that she’d regret getting involved with Lucan.

Returning his kiss with renewed vigor, she arched her body closer to his.

But what if she couldn’t return? What if making love to Lucan exposed her to the same devastating pain Blake inflicted?

“Chloe,” Lucan whispered against her lips. He lifted to his elbows once more and studied her with a slight frown. “Where are you?”

She blinked. “Right here. What do you mean?” She knew damn well what he meant. But the fact he could sense her distance made her want to squirm. Again she confronted the unsettling awareness of how closely he paid attention.

“I mean…” He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Last night I enjoyed your full participation. You are far from here. From me. What troubles you?”

Heat infused her cheeks, and she said a silent prayer of thanks that the darkness shadowed her face. What was she supposed to say? That she’d scared herself out of a night of pleasure? That she was so afraid to sleep alone she’d do just about anything? No matter her response, he’d see her as a tease. He’d become angry. Kick her out on her rear, and she wouldn’t blame him one bit.

“Really,” she said with a soft laugh. “I’m a bit apprehensive. It’s been … years.”

For a heartbeat, the light in his eyes intensified. Good heavens, he liked that. Enjoyed the idea he would be the first in a long while. An unexplainable thrill raced down to her toes. But in the next heartbeat, his eyebrows furrowed, and the lines around his mouth tightened.

“Nay.” He shook his head. “’Tis something else. ’Tis in your eyes.”

She nearly groaned aloud. No man on earth should be so observant. Nor should this one be able to read her so well. A heavy sigh slipped free. “I can’t do this. I thought I could. I don’t want to go to my room, Lucan, and I didn’t want to invite myself to stay. I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s okay…”

He reared back on his heels like she’d slapped him. “God’s blood!”

She cringed beneath the oath that slipped through his teeth. Aware she’d just dug her own grave she wriggled off the bed and picked up her shirt.

Lucan snatched it out of her hands. With more force than necessary he hurled it across the room where it landed in front of the door. “Nay. You will stay if you wish.”

Astounded, she could do no more than stare.

He rose to his feet, jerked open a dresser drawer, and yanked out a pair of long cotton pants. His expression tight, he pulled them on and eased them over his jutting erection. When he looked at her again, his eyes glinted in the soft candlelight. “When we lay together as man and woman—and we will, for there is too much passion between us—’twill not be because you have had to
convince
yourself ’tis what you wish.”