Mission: Irresistible (32 page)

“Your legs.” He nodded.

Cassie peered down at her feet. They’d given her a pair of paper booties to wear at the hospital, but there was dried blood on her skin from her knees on down.

Harrison filled the tub with water and quietly undressed her. She appreciated the care he took, tenderly helping her off with her blouse. When he dropped it to the floor, Solen’s ring rolled out.

“You have the other half of the amulet,” he said.

“Little good it does now.” She felt incredibly close to tears again. “Solen and Kiya will never be together.”

“It’s just a silly legend.”

“Still, you never know.”

“I understand,” he said. “I feel the loss too. I never believed in the legend, and until now I never realized how important reuniting those rings was to me.”

“It’s sad.”

“Shh, let’s not talk about it.” He finished undressing her about the same time the tub had filled. He turned off the water and helped her into the bath.

Sinking gratefully into the warm water, she told him everything that had happened to her in the warehouse. He told her what he’d discovered in the scrolls. How the cryptic message had led him directly to Tom Grayfield.

She spoke of her fear of never seeing him again, her terror at being locked in the sarcophagus, and then she told him about the strange and wonderful peace that had come over her. The forgiveness she’d felt for everyone.

He whispered of his dismay at learning he’d delivered her into Grayfield’s hands. Emotion caught in his throat when he spoke of the horror he’d felt when he realized Grayfield intended to use her as a human sacrifice in his quest for immortality.

Harrison undressed and climbed into the tub with her. They said nothing more, just gazed into each other’s eyes, fully experiencing the moment. Both happy that they were together and alive.

She stroked his cheek with a washcloth.

He soaped her breasts.

She massaged his tense shoulders.

He brushed his fingers through the strands of her hair.

When the water grew cold, they dried each other off. He had Cassie sit on the counter and he knelt on the floor, tenderly cleansing her wounds. After first applying antiseptic ointment, he then put Band-Aids on the cuts and scrapes on her feet and knees.

They were completely naked in front of each other in the stark bathroom light, and neither was embarrassed.

It felt too right.

He kissed her and she kissed him back. He took her hand and guided her into his bedroom, dropping kisses on her face along the way. His dear face was battered and bruised, but Cassie had never seen anything as touching as the expression in his eyes when he gazed at her.

They sat together on the edge of the bed, kissing, stroking, licking, tasting. The tempo increased as their passion escalated. They lay back on the mattress. Cassie broke his kiss and nibbled a trail down his chin to his throat to his chest and beyond.

When her mouth touched his jutting penis, he sucked in his breath. She raised her head and met his gaze. His eyes filled with wonder and fascination and desire as he watched her stroke him. He looked so vibrant, so alive, so unlike the standoffish professor she had first met. She’d misjudged him and his ability to experience passion.

The heat of desire in his eyes was so stark, so hungry, it took her breath away. He wanted her.

She could see it written across his face. She tasted it in his kisses. Smelled it on his skin. He wanted her in a way no other man had ever wanted her.

While she was stroking him with her mouth, he gently reached for her, his fingers skating over her hip bone. She closed her eyes as she felt energy melt up from her feminine core into her breasts and into her throat. She tasted her own desire, hot and rich, mingling with the earthy flavor of him.

A silky moan escaped his lips. He carefully twisted away from her, breaking her gentle suction on his erection.

Her eyes popped open and she saw he had shifted onto his side, propping himself on his elbow. He was peering at her, and she saw the raw, animal intensity of need in eyes the color of Guinness.

He kissed her, his mouth urgent. His energy filled her, shocked her. He was more powerful than a charge of white-hot lightning.

When he lightly grazed her most tender spot, a desperate sweetness suffused her body, full of sumptuous delight. And all the capacity of her desire sprang alive. She reached for him, clutching, devouring.

She had no more restraint. Abandon claimed her, and she thrust herself against his hard body.

But he was tender. So very tender. He acted as if she were going to break into pieces if he so much as breathed on her hard.

“I want to get lost in your eyes as I make love to you, Cassie,” he whispered, and it was exactly what she wanted to hear.

“Condom?”

“Right here.” He dealt with the details, then poised himself over her. Harry looked down into her face. “You’re so incredibly beautiful. So brave.”

“Not too shabby yourself, Professor.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and with a reverential groan he sank into her. She felt so incredibly safe with him. She was able to let go of control and allow him to sweep her along with his masculine rhythm. She gave herself away, fully, completely, without hesitation. Unleashed her heart and surrendered. Forfeited everything to him.

“Harder,” she cried and bucked her hips upward.

He rode her hard just as she wanted. Pushing into her, giving her glorious, inescapable pleasure.

Give it to me, give it to me. I want to feel you come.

Then it broke. Her thunderstorm. Her lightning. Her hurricane.

It was large inside her. So large. Spreading and growing. The air was a choir. Singing, vibrating his praises.
“Harrison, Harrison, Harrison.”

The sensation rushed through her, sweet, deep, hot, intense, flaming, burning like a slant of brilliant light far up inside her, diffusing through her and fanning the telltale rash of passion spreading up and over her breasts.

She shuddered against him as he shuddered into her.

“Oh, Harrison,” she breathed.

“It’s Harry,” he whispered into the curve of her throat. “Call me Harry.”

Cassie woke before Harry. She rolled over onto her side, stacked her hands under her cheek, and watched him sleeping.

She studied the way the sunlight fell across his bruised face. She held her hand poised above his hip, feeling the power of his body heat radiating up through her palm. She paid attention to the texture of his skin, so smooth and thick and tanned. She noticed how the very quality of the air in the room seemed different because they were breathing in tandem.

Tears filled her eyes and a strange tightness swelled her chest. She was overcome with a melancholy so intense she feared she might die from it.

Her natural instinct was to laugh, to move, to sing. Anything to buoy her mood and block out the sadness. But she did not do that. Instead, she lay beside Harrison, letting the melancholy fill her up.

Their time together was at an end. It was over.

As she fully experienced the sorrow of loss, a very strange thing happened.

All these years what she thought passed for happiness, activity, fun, parties, dates was so different from this unflappable sense of certainty. Her understanding of real and lasting happiness had changed. She had changed.

Something clicked deep inside her as she reconnected with the self she’d misplaced so long ago. Her habitual goals, scripts, and agendas dropped away in the realization of this better self, and suddenly she could see and hear and feel, both internally and externally, with greater clarity.

In that shimmering moment, she knew what she had to do. She had to stop hiding her pain. Had to fully live it, experience it, and then let it go. What she had been running from had already happened, and she’d survived. She was still here, still living her life.

She had so much to be grateful for. She didn’t need that job at the Smithsonian to be happy. Didn’t need parties or fast cars or constant stimulation. Everything she’d ever truly wanted or needed was within her reach. It was all right here.

All she had to do was make room.

He woke at 2 p.m. to find his bed empty. Cassie was gone. She’d crept away while he slept.

His sheets still smelled of her, vibrant as a summer garden. He squeezed her pillow to his chest and inhaled the scent of her.

Where had she gone? Why had she left?

The bedside phone rang. He snatched it up, his pulse bumping. Was it her?

“Hello?”

“It’s Clyde. I’m at the hospital.”

Simultaneously, Harrison sat up and dropped the pillow. “Adam—is he . . .”

“Awake, and he’s regained his memory.”

“Thank God.”

“He wants to see you. He won’t tell us what happened to him. Not until you get here.”

“Us?” Was Cassie at the hospital already? Was that where she’d gone? But why would she go without him?

“I called your mother,” Clyde said. “She’s here.”

Ten minutes later, Harrison walked into Adam’s hospital room. On the drive over, one specific memory from the night before had stuck in his brain.

Ahmose, flinging Kiya’s amulet into the Trinity, and saying, “Ask your mother.” He hadn’t known what Ahmose meant, but he did know his mother had been keeping too many secrets for too many years. It was long past time for a showdown.

But first things first. He had to speak to his brother.

Adam was sitting up in bed. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his cheeks were sunken. He had an IV in his arm and he wore a hospital gown.

“You look as bad as I feel,” Adam said.

“Dude.” Harrison grinned and touched his blackened eye. “If you feel as bad as I look, you are so screwed.”

Adam blinked. “That doesn’t sound like you. You never say ‘dude.’ Or tease me.”

Harrison shrugged and felt his cheeks heat. “Guess I’ve been hanging out with Cassie Cooper too long, searching for your sorry butt.”

“I like the changes. She’s good for you.”

“Where’s Mom?” He plunked down in one of the chairs for visitors at the side of Adam’s bed.

“Right here.”

Harrison looked up to see Diana and Clyde walking through the door carrying a Burger King bag. Adam held out his hand. “Thanks, Mom, you saved my life. The hospital food is bad enough to kill a guy.”

Diana handed Adam the sack, then turned to Harrison. “Hello, son.”

“Hello, Mother.”

This is how it had always been between them. Distant, tentative, wary. He wished it did not have to be this way. He used to long for the sort of mother you could throw your arms around and wrap in a bear hug. But Diana was who she was.

Diana took the chair next to Harrison. Clyde went to stand at the back of the room, his arms folded on his chest, his eyes on Diana. Adam focused on wolfing down his food.

“So tell us everything that happened,” Diana said. “Start from the beginning.”

“Well,” Adam said, “I was born in a—”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Diana interrupted. “You’d think after everything you’ve been through, it would have taken some of the starch out of your sails.”

“Or some of the spunk out of the punk,” Harrison muttered.

His mother grinned at him. Hey, for once they were on the same wavelength. Adam didn’t seem to mind that they were ganging up on him. He waved a hand. “You guys are just jealous because I have an amazing ability to bounce back.”

“So talk.”

“All right.” Adam wiped a smear of mustard off his cheek. “Here’s where it started. Dad put me up to searching for Solen. I wasn’t really interested. Had a hot girl I was dating and she was trying to get me to move to France with her, but Dad kept telling me how I had to beat Harrison. He said he would finance the dig, no strings attached. He’d never done that before. I thought it might be a chance to mend fences between us.” He polished off the last of his hamburger, and with a free-throw toss landed it in the trash can. “He shoots; he scores!”

“Don’t get distracted,” Diana said.

Adam sighed. Harrison could tell this was painful for him, vocalizing the truth about his father.

“Dad had a lot of detailed information about Solen’s tomb and where it was located. He refused to tell me where he got the info, and for the longest time I thought the data must be totally bogus and I wouldn’t use it. I kept reminding him that he’d told me no strings were attached to the money.”

“Harrison,” Diana interrupted, giving him the once-over. “You’re not wearing your glasses.”

“Broke them in a bar fight. Long story.”

Diana looked taken aback. “A bar brawl? You?”

“Dude.” Adam gave him a thumbs-up. “Way to go, bro.”

“Sorry, go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Diana shook her head but looked at Harrison differently, as if she suddenly respected him more.

“Anyway, I finally followed Dad’s instructions because I didn’t know where else to look, and hey, I found Solen right where he said I would.”

“And among Solen’s artifacts, you found the scroll,” Harrison supplied.

“Yeah, written in Minoan hieroglyphics. And I translated it,” Adam boasted. “Took me several weeks of trying, but I did it. Dad pressured me.” His face sobered. “Once I knew what it said, I wished I hadn’t.”

Diana fisted Adam’s covers in her hands. “And what did you learn?”

Harrison caught the recriminating look his brother sent his mother. “You’ve known all along about Dad,” Adam accused.

“Not known. Suspected. But I never knew for sure.”

Harrison was startled to see tears misting his mother’s eyes. He could never remember seeing her cry.

A nurse came in to take Adam’s vital signs, and they had to wait until she was finished before he could continue his story. The tension in the room was palpable.

“Everything was in Solen’s scroll,” Adam said. “The legend of the star-crossed lovers. The curse he’d placed on Vizier Nebamun’s family. And the reason my father wanted Solen resurrected. The formula for immortality.”

The room fell silent for a long moment as Adam’s words echoed off the walls.

“There were sayings in that text.” Adam took a swallow of water. “Things my father often said. And the symbols that match the signet ring he wears. Since the hieroglyphics had never been translated, only someone versed in the oral tradition of the Minoan Order could have possessed such knowledge. That’s why he had funded my dig. That’s where he’d gotten his information. I had no idea what he was going to do with the formula, but I knew I couldn’t turn it over to him. Not if he was in the Minoan Order.”