Moon Bound (19 page)

A blush began to burn her cheeks but she forced an answer. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

She wasn’t exactly positive what she was thanking him for—the good night’s sleep or the sex.

Diego’s mouth twisted just a little bit into a grimace and she thought he might have winced, as well. But he didn’t look away. “I’m glad.”

He held her gaze for another few seconds then turned to look at the digital clock beside the light. It read 8:08 a.m. “We should probably get up and get going. Marco’s—” He stopped and an expression that looked suspiciously like pain crossed his face.

What? He didn’t want to face his brother after spending the night with her? Why? Was he ashamed he’d succumbed and lowered his standards to sleep with her?

She took an involuntary gulp of air and his gaze arrowed back to her.

“Are you okay?”

She shrugged, trying for nonchalant, and probably only achieved pathetic. “I’m fine.”

Sitting up, she ran shaking hands through her tangled hair. God, she must look like something the cat dragged in. Whereas he looked good enough to eat for breakfast with his hair rumpled and sexy.

“You’re right,” she continued. “We should probably get going. I know you wanted to get on the road as soon as we could, so I’m just going to take a quick shower.” She started to get up but realized she was naked. And he was watching every move she made. She pulled the sheet more tightly around her and looked anywhere but at him. “Then again, maybe you want to get in first? You go right ahead. I’ll just, um, wait ’til you’re finished.”

His sigh filled the dead space left when she stopped talking.

“Amy Jo. Look at me.”

“You know, we really should get a-move-on. You just go on—”

He cupped her chin, turned her toward him and kissed her.

Actually, he kissed the shit out of her. She was too stunned to move. And then she realized she didn’t want to move. Releasing her death grip on the sheet, she threw her arms around his neck. She would have deepened the kiss but he drew back and cupped her face in both hands.

“You have a beautiful body.” He looked straight into her eyes, his voice a husky rasp. “Your breasts are gorgeous and your legs are a work of art. The perfect curve of your lips makes my mouth water. You talk too damn much, you’re too smart for your own good and I want to kill the men who—” He stopped, shook his head and drew in a deep breath. “Drop the sheet then get in the damn shower so I can talk to Marco before we leave. He’s been pacing in the next room for the past half hour.”

She heard something in his voice, something that might have been regret, might have been anger. She couldn’t tell and she didn’t care. His words rang in her head, made her stomach clench in arousal.

Please take me. Please take me. Please…

He groaned low in his throat before he closed his eyes. Shaking his head, he got off the bed and grabbed his jeans. “If you continue to look at me like that, I’m not going to be able to leave this room without having you again and we do need get moving.”

Satisfaction warmed her blood and her mouth curved in a smile. She liked knowing she had the same effect on him. Emboldened by his words, she took her time sliding off the bed then walked to the bathroom, knowing he watched every step she made. When she reached the door, she stopped and turned to look at him.

“Just so you know, I
am
grateful for the full night’s sleep.” She let her smile bloom and watched his expression go taut with desire. “And I expect there to be more in my future. Don’t run scared on me, Diego.”

Then she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, heart racing.

Jesus H. Christmas. What in holy hell had possessed her to say that? Not that she hadn’t meant every word. It was just, she’d never been much of a tease. Hadn’t seen much reason for it, when men either wanted you or they didn’t. Some of them would take you whether you wanted them or not. She’d seen too many girls tease a man to the point that he thought you were giving him the go-ahead when you weren’t.

But there was something about Diego that made her push. Something about his ingrained honor that made her feel safe enough to tease him. And after what had happened, it was a major step forward for her.

Still, if whatever this voodoo woman in New Orleans was going to do to her worked, and he found out exactly what those other men had done to her, would he still want her?

Would he be sickened by it, or God forbid, pity her? She didn’t want anyone’s pity. Hell, she didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew it wasn’t pity.

Moving to the shower, she turned the taps and waited until the water hit lukewarm before she stepped in.

For months, her only reason for living had been to find a cure. Now, knowing that was a lost cause, she had to reevaluate her plan.

Like it or not, she was going to have to learn how to deal with this new life of hers, as freaky as it may seem. But there were others. Bella had promised to help her. Diego… Well, that would have to wait.

First things first. New Orleans.

And if she lived through that… Maybe she could think about other, more enjoyable things.

Chapter Eleven

Bella woke to the sound of the landing gear lowering as the plane descended toward New Orleans.

She’d slept funny and her neck hurt. When she twisted her head to get rid of the kink, she caught Steven’s gaze. He looked wide awake but there was a hint of wildness in his eyes.

They said nothing as the plane landed and they disembarked. By the time they reached the terminal, she thought her head might explode from the tension.

Since they had no luggage, they headed straight for the lobby, where Cole had told her he’d meet them. Her gaze darted around the space until she caught sight of a familiar head of perfectly cut chestnut-brown hair.

Cole, flanked by his three
centuriones
and his ever-present
praetorian
. Joy skipped through her heart and she felt sixteen again, desperate to see her beloved big brother who’d been away at college for months.

Cole had been a wiry teen but he’d grown into a tall, solid wall of muscle who drew the eye of every woman wherever he went. He was broader than Steven and heavier, though not by much. And his brown and green hazel eyes never failed to calm her.

He looked like an intensely masculine version of their mother, his nose and cheeks razor straight, his mouth a gorgeous bow—that looked ready to crack, it was so stiff. He looked like he was going to curse or break down and sob.

“Cole!”

Her happy cry cracked his lips into a smile as she ran through the crowd and launched herself into his arms from several feet away.

She didn’t care that they were making a scene, that
eteri
were staring at them. She only wanted the comfort of her brother’s arms.

“Hey, brat.” He grabbed her out of the air into a hug that would have crushed another woman’s ribs. “Damn, Bella. You scared the living shit out of me.”

She nodded, her chin bumping his shoulder, as she clung, just for a few seconds. Well, maybe more than a few seconds.

She didn’t know how long he held her, arms tight, her feet dangling off the ground, before he set her down to look at her. “Are you really okay?”

Her smile made an appearance then. “I’m fine, Cole. Really.” She leaned in to give him another hug, whispering in his ear as she did. “I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

“I’ll always worry about you, baby.”

Yeah, he would, though he should know she could take care of herself. He’d taught her how himself.

Of course, since the moment of her birth, their parents had ingrained in him his duty to keep her safe. Before Cal had died, it had been his job to look after Cole and Bella. Now, it was just the two of them.

And Steven.

Cole’s gaze transferred to the man standing several feet behind her.

She turned as well and tried to look at Steven through the eyes of the best friend he hadn’t seen in three years.

He’d lost weight and his hair was longer. But the wild, almost feral look he’d had in his eyes the night Cole sent him away had returned.

That look made Cole grimace in pain.

Steven might have had a tight rein on his emotions but he looked ready to snap at any moment. She wanted so badly to make this easier for them, but she didn’t know how. They had to figure that out for themselves, even if Steven broke and brought the wrath of the heavens down on them.

When Cole glanced at her, she nodded her encouragement and watched with baited breath as Cole stepped around her toward Steven.

Steven’s chin lifted as if gearing up to take a punch. Instead, Cole walked right up to him, wrapped his arms around Steven and hugged him just as hard as he’d hugged her. It took a second for Steven to respond, a second in which she was sure Steven was going to push Cole away. But then Steven hugged him back.

Someone else might have mistaken them for lovers, they held onto each other for so long.

Neither man said a word. Too many people around.

When they parted—reluctantly, she knew—she saw some of Steven’s wildness had calmed. And most of the stiffness had left Cole’s expression

Cole inclined his head in a silent question and Steven nodded once.

A long-suffering sigh came from behind Bella. “As touching as this is, we need to get a move on. Sir.”

Cole’s back stiffened at the implied insult in that last little word and Bella had to work to stifle her grin. If Dorian Pelligrini hadn’t been such a damn good
praetorian
, Cole would’ve found a way to get rid of his personal bodyguard years ago.

At thirty-eight, Dorian was still considered young to be Cole’s
praetorian
. Her short dark hair, somewhere between black and brown, held no trace of gray and her five-foot-eight body was still as slim and toned as a twenty-year-old’s. She was pretty in a way that belied her training, possibly making her more deadly than a man who looked like he could kill you with one hand tied behind his back.

Dorian had been trained almost from birth for the position, though she’d been meant for Cal, their older brother. When Cole had decided to go to college at nineteen, Dorian’s father, who’d been their father’s most trusted advisor, had assigned Dorian to him as
praetorian
.

Cole had raged and demanded she be un-assigned but their father’s three
centuriones
had insisted, no matter that he was now
legatus
and outranked them. They’d told him they weren’t going to lose another king and he either kept her close or learned to live under lock and key.

He and Steven had kicked almost a case of beer between them that night and never got to bed. In the morning, Cole had agreed and he and Dorian had enrolled at Penn State’s main campus where they shared a two-bedroom apartment. To say they tolerated each other was an overstatement.

They barely spoke, though in terms of his safety, whatever Dorian said was law.

As Dorian herded them toward the exit, Bella and Cole made careful small talk, Steven silent and watchful behind them. A limousine drove up the second they stepped out of the doors.

Cole, Steven, Bella and Dorian got in the back, while one
centuriones
got into the front with the driver and the other two headed for the parking lot for the other car.

“Princess, I hope all is well with you.”

Dorian’s formality had Bella straightening in her seat.

“Very well, thank you.” Bella smiled, hoping for an answering one from Dorian. She’d always looked up to this strong woman. “And you,
Praetorian
? And your family? They’re all well?”

Dorian’s mouth actually curved into something resembling a smile. “Yes. My parents are in Mexico at the moment, lying on a beach. My brothers look after the shop and my sister…” She paused and shook her head, her smile becoming more pronounced, “well, let’s just say Kaley’s still trying to find herself. But she’s fine, thank you.”

Bella hadn’t seen Kaley in years. She remembered a skinny kid with braces and blond hair, a few years younger than herself, with a snorting laugh that could stop traffic. Kaley had laughed a lot.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“And I’m glad to hear you’re unharmed after your recent troubles. But, Princess, we need to revisit the subject of a full-time guard. I know you’ve refused in the past—”

“Dorian, I’m not—”

“—but this last episode proves my point. You need someone to watch your back at all times.”

Bella tried not to sigh but this was an old fight, one she’d known would be reopened following this last incident. She just hadn’t expected it so soon. She turned to her brother. “Cole, I don’t want someone shadowing my every move twenty-four hours a day. I just don’t think it’s necessary. Until this incident, no one has hassled me. You know how I feel about this.”

Cole nodded. “Yeah, I do and I know how Dorian feels about it and I know how I feel about it.” Cole looked at Steven. “What do you think?”

Steven blinked, his shock at Cole’s question plain on his face. It took him a few seconds to formulate an answer.

Then the old Steven reappeared. The Steven who knew Cole better than anyone, even his sister. Who had been his confidante, his best friend. He relaxed further into the leather seat.

“You know what I think. She should’ve had one years ago.”

Curses leapt to the tip of her tongue but she bit them back. “Don’t you think we have more important things to worry about right now than finding me a babysitter?”

The men exchanged a glance then said, “No,” in perfect unison.

Oh, sure, now they decide join forces.

As Bella opened her mouth to respond, Dorian raised her hand. “Once we have this settled, we can move on to the next problem. But let’s take them one at a time. And you’re first on the agenda.”

She took a deep breath as she counted to ten. Time seemed to have reversed itself and she was eighteen again, fighting with Michael, Steven’s dad, about the need for a bodyguard. He’d caved to her pleading—begging, actually—that she not be assigned a jailer. She wasn’t king. She knew how to take care of herself. He had trained her well. And she’d draw more attention to herself if she had an entourage.