Night's Honor (24 page)

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Authors: Thea Harrison

BOOK: Night's Honor
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He came in, and in, moving slowly to let her accommodate his intrusion. She was so wet and ready he didn't have to work but could push in to the hilt.

The same hunger she felt etched his features, and his eyes blazed with fierce wonder.

“Tell me it's okay to fall in love with you.” The words tumbled out of her trembling mouth without her conscious volition, and when she heard herself say them, she flinched and felt crushed with humiliation.

She hadn't meant to say it. For God's sake, this was only the first time they had gotten together, and despite their earlier conversation there was no guarantee of another. How many times did people say stupid stuff in the heat of sex?

If she thought his gaze had blazed before, it was nothing compared to the heat and light that came out of him then. He looked wholly alive, wholly engaged, and so touched she didn't have the heart to stammer out a retraction.

Eyelids lowering in a heavy, sensual look, he tilted his head to fasten his lips over hers in a light caress. He murmured softly, “I would be so honored if you did.”

It was okay. He made it better than okay. He made her welcome.

As he began to move, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, and held him with her entire body.

He set up a gentle rhythm, sliding all the way in then pulling back until just the tip of his penis rested at her entrance. Leaning on one elbow, he stroked her face, her hair, and ran his fingers lightly down the side of her neck to cup her breast.

Pinching and rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger, he looked deep into her eyes. “You're beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful. You're so hot and wet. God, I'm on fire.”

She couldn't lie still. She had to move with him. He had always seemed cooler to her, but now she could feel the heat pouring off of him. As his hips rocked against hers, his whole body flexed, and she remembered the first time she saw him, how he moved with complete, seamless grace. Watching him move now, with such sensual abandon, was incredibly sexy.

His thick, dark chestnut hair fell about his face, shadowing his gaze. As she nuzzled him, he picked up his pace, fucking her harder.

She tightened her inner muscles, gripping his cock as strongly as she could as she raked her fingers down his back. Throwing his head back, he hissed as he pistoned into her.

His eyes flashed red and his fangs descended, and she had no business being shocked or surprised, but oh my God, she was. He looked feral, animalistic.

Just as he had when he had stood between her and Malphas, guarding her from a being that was so Powerful, if the confrontation had turned violent, he would have almost certainly been killed.

“Xavier,” she whispered.

She touched his face. Not once did it occur to her to be afraid. This amazing creature had quoted poetry to her. This amazing creature inside of her was Xavier.

He closed those feral-looking eyes and kissed her fingers.

She tightened her embrace, while she tilted her hips to let him thrust deeper. He bowed over her, moving faster, fucking harder, until he gasped out something incomprehensible—she really needed to learn some Spanish—and stiffened.

Deep inside, she felt his cock pulse. He rocked against her gently.

Closing her eyes, she kissed his cheek while she rubbed his back. Oh, she might not understand this strange journey she was on, or how the series of decisions, progression of events, had brought her to this point. She could only be glad she had gotten here.

After a few moments of holding his hips tight against hers, he stirred to caress her lips with his again, gently. When he deepened the kiss, she found that his fangs had retracted. His tongue played with hers, as he stroked her thigh.

“I sense sunrise is near,” he whispered.

She threaded her fingers through his hair. “Since you have that automatic shutter system in your house, can I assume you won't fall instantly into some kind of creepy, deathlike coma?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you can safely assume that.”

“Good, because otherwise I was going to tell you to get off me quick, before you pinned me down for ten hours.” He laughed out loud, and she grinned. “Just kidding, I think I could roll you over onto the floor.”

“Thankfully you won't have to.” As he eased away from her, his softening penis slipped out, and she sighed regretfully. It had felt too good to have him inside of her. She already missed the joining, already wanted him again.

He left the bed, and returned with his shirt, which he wadded and used to clean the inside of her thighs. Lingering at the job, he ran his fingers along her sensitive skin, and she stretched languorously under the caress.

He said, “I want you to sleep with me.”

She paused before answering and thought of Diego, asleep in the other room. It would be so easy for Diego to text or email, or even call anyone back at the estate, and then nothing she and Xavier did would be private any longer.

While she had no intention of hiding anything, she wasn't sure this was how she wanted things to go. Besides, what had just happened was too powerful to her, and she felt raw and shaken.

She might have promised she wouldn't run away, but that didn't mean she had to avoid making a strategic retreat. So much had happened, she needed time to process.

Kissing him quickly, she told him, “I would love to sleep with you, but maybe not this time. I have no intention of sneaking around, but I would rather Diego and the others found out about us in a different way.”

He frowned, and she could tell he didn't like her refusal, but he didn't disagree. “Very well,” he said. “I will let you go this time. But not next time.”

She smiled. “It's a deal.”

Moving around the room, he collected her clothes. He was completely nude and entirely confident, and she couldn't stop staring at him. His back, arms and legs were corded with lean muscle, and watching him was a pure pleasure. As he neared a large walnut wardrobe, he pulled out a black silk robe and offered it to her.

With a quick smile of thanks, she slipped it on. It was too large for her frame, but not unpleasantly so. The hem brushed the top of her bare feet, and the sleeves fell to the tips of her fingers. At his urging, she held out first one arm then the other. He rolled the sleeves up to her wrists while she watched, then handed the bundle of her clothes and shoes to her.

Awkwardness and doubt tried to worm their way into her mind. She shoved them out again.

Slipping his fingers underneath her chin, he coaxed her face up. As usual, his gaze was all too keen. “I will only feel good about letting you leave, if you tell me you are fine with what just happened.”

She took a deep breath. She would not be typical. They had made love, and she had wanted to, and it had been a rare, wonderful experience.

“I'm not sure that ‘fine' is quite the right word for how I feel,” she told him honestly. “While I'm so . . . glad, I also feel pretty shaken. But that doesn't mean that I'm not dealing with it, or that I'll go against my word and leave.” She gave him a small smile. “Will that do?”

The muscle in his jaw ticked, another small tell. “It goes against my instincts to let you out of here, even if you are only going to another room. But I also agree with you—letting Diego stumble upon us together is not the right way to break the news to the others.” He kissed her swiftly. “You'd better leave before I change my mind.”

She nodded, and before she could change her mind too, she kissed him again and walked rapidly to the door. Funny, now that she was actually leaving—even though she needed to—she had to fight the impulse to turn around and stay.

She walked to the short hallway and looked back. He had left his bedroom door halfway open. As she paused, he said telepathically,
In case you change your mind
.

Warmed, she replied,
I won't, but thank you.

Sweet dreams.

You too.

There were four doors down the short hallway. Two were propped open, one led to the bathroom with an antique claw-foot bathtub and the fourth led to an empty bedroom. Inside that room, her bag sat at the foot of the double bed, and as promised, on the nightstand Diego had left a snack of crackers, fruit and a variety of cheeses wrapped in plastic.

As she readied for bed, exhaustion weighed down her limbs. The day had felt a week long, and she hadn't yet adjusted to a more nocturnal schedule.

Slipping into the bathroom, she brushed her teeth. Much as she wanted to take a full bath or shower, she could barely stand upright, so she washed quickly at the sink. Back in the bedroom, she closed her door and crawled between the covers.

She didn't make it to turning out the bedside light. The world went dark as soon as her head hit the pillow.

An undefined amount of time later, she didn't wake gently or slowly, but all at once in a clench. It took a few moments for her to realize where she was, as she stared around the strange, windowless room.

Memory flooded in. The confrontation with Malphas, and what had come after.

The things she and Xavier had said to each other, the things he had done to her, his mouth moving so knowledgeably as he tongued her until an inescapable fire had flared hot and bright. How he moved on top of her, moved inside of her, the feral changes in his face, and the gentleness of his hands and lips.

It had been at least a year since she had last taken a lover, and she felt the soreness in her muscles as she shifted her legs restlessly. Even with the soreness, an edge of that fiery hunger pulsed. Slipping a hand between her legs to cup herself, she realized she hadn't even taken off the robe. The soft material twisted around her body.

Without visual cues from looking outside, it was impossible to know the time without a clock or device of some sort, and she was still very tired. What had woken her? She hadn't dreamed of Malphas, thank God. Perhaps she had noticed the strangeness of the bed.

Faintly, the sound of male voices came through the closed door. Even though she could just barely hear them, not what was actually being said, they sounded tense, even angry.

Oh Lord, what now?

Throwing back the covers, she adjusted the robe and slipped out of the room.

The door to the bedroom where Diego had stayed was propped open, the room empty. The voices came from the living room.

As she froze in indecision, Diego said, “It's been three years, and I'm not going anywhere. I clean the pool, maintain the cars and polish the guns, and that's my entire life. When Melisande and Justine came to visit? That was the most interesting thing to happen to me in a long damn time. Even coming here last night was a massive change, and all I fucking did was go to bed.”

Sinking both hands into her hair, she held her head.

What is it about me? What?

I don't ask to overhear this stuff.

“While I understand what you're saying, it doesn't change my mind.”

She had a visceral reaction, just listening to the sound of Xavier's voice. Sensation ran along her skin, and she shivered, wrapping the robe more tightly around her torso.

His mouth on her. His mouth on her.

Dear God.

Calm and courteous, Xavier continued. “I retired you from the field for many good reasons, and I'm not going to put you back in active duty. The last time you went on assignment, your cover was so badly blown, you would be a dead man if I sent you back out again. You're done, Diego. You've been done for a long time, and there's no coming back from this retirement. I'm sorry, but that's my final decision.”

Xavier retired Diego from a field?

A mental picture of Diego mowing an overgrown pasture bloomed in her mind. It was so patently ridiculous, the last of the sleep cobwebs in her mind blew away and she really woke up.

He retired Diego from active duty.

Like a spool of thread, everything she had witnessed from the past six weeks unrolled in her mind.

How she had felt more than once that something was slightly off at the estate. How everyone else had stopped talking whenever she entered the room.

How all five of the young men disappeared from one day to the next, and nobody brought it up in conversation. How important it had been to keep their identities hidden when unfriendly strangers had arrived.

How overwhelmingly knowledgeable Raoul was at killing. Once, she had even thought he would make an excellent assassin.

Was this . . . a little like James Bond?

With Vampyres?

She wasn't sure if she should feel so amazed, or if she should just feel like a fool for not putting two and two together before now.

Before she could castigate herself too much, Diego spoke again. The tone in his voice was flat and final. “You're right, Xavier. I'm done. I quit.”

SEVENTEEN

S
ilence fell.

Then Xavier said, “I take it you would not have brought this up if you weren't sure. Do you know what you will do now?”

“Not yet. I think it might be best if I didn't return to the estate with you and Tess. Is there any way I could get you to take me into the city, after sunset? That is, if you're done with your business here.”

“I can give you a ride. Where would you like to go?”

“I thought I would stay at a nice hotel, maybe the Four Seasons, and consider my options. All I've done is save money over the last three years—I might as well enjoy a little of it for a few days. I can always send for my things later.” Someone paced, probably Diego. “This isn't personal, Xavier. I want you to know that. None of it is.”

“I understand.”

Not staying to hear any more, she slipped down the hallway to her bedroom again to ease her door closed. Her mind and emotions in upheaval, she paced around the confines of the bedroom. She wasn't like Xavier, and her body couldn't contain her restlessness without launching into motion.

Even though the bedroom was as tastefully decorated as the rest of the apartment, the lack of windows was beginning to get to her. She wanted fresh air and a walk by the ocean. Quiet though the apartment was, there was no peace in this place.

What she'd heard didn't necessarily change anything, except that it did. She thought back over what she had said to Xavier earlier and laughed under her breath. It felt bitter and humorless.

A quiet rap sounded on her door. She said, “I'm busy.”

The door opened, and Xavier walked in.

He wore all black again, classic, simple slacks and a tailored shirt that emphasized the strong, elegant bone structure of his hands and face. He had tied his hair back neatly, and there was no trace anywhere of the wild, sensual creature who had made such emotional love to her. He looked as he so often did, composed and self-contained.

The sight of him made her a little crazy, when everything inside of her was in chaos.

She snapped, “I said I was busy.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I heard you perfectly well. I also heard you pacing just now, and I heard you earlier, when you walked down the hall and paused outside the living room.” He eyed her narrowly. “You overheard Diego and I talking, and now, for some reason, you are upset. Why?”

“Just because we had sex—once—doesn't mean it's okay for you to ignore my boundaries,” she told him furiously.

“My apologies. Of course, you are correct.” He said it so smoothly, too easily, his face a refined mask, as he leaned back against the closed door.

For the first time she hated his blasted composure, and she glared at him. “You're trapping me in here on purpose. Don't try to say you aren't, so you can stop being so damned polite.”

He adjusted the cuff of one of his sleeves. “Politeness is the backbone of civilization. Besides, what else would you have me do? Until I know what you're thinking, I have no way to respond.” Glancing up from the small task, he speared her with a sharp gaze. “Let me guess: you've figured out what I do, from what Diego and I were saying. Haven't you?”

She threw out one hand in an uncontrolled gesture. After everything that had happened, she felt like she had come full circle, back to the same place she had been the night of the Vampyre's Ball. Nothing he did seemed out of place or unconsidered, and everything she did felt overdone, out of balance.

“It was rather hard to miss,” she said. “Unlike all the many clues I've seen over the last six weeks.”

“And this upsets you.” He cocked his head, studying her as if she were an alien.

Where was his warmth, the passion and emotional openness from earlier this morning? Had it all been an act?

She turned away from him, wrapped her arms around her middle and hunched her shoulders. “Yes. No. I don't know.”

His hands came down on her shoulders, and she jumped. He said in her ear, “Well, that is definitely a comprehensive range of reaction, I must admit.”

Her body reacted again to the sound of his voice, so close. She felt as if he had just passed a hand down her naked back, and she shivered.

His hands tightened. He said even more softly, “Will you not tell me what is going through your mind right now? I truly don't have any clue.”

He sounded so patient and gentle, this centuries-old Vampyre who was once a priest.

Who played the piano, loved to waltz, read philosophy and quoted love poetry.

And ran a spy ring.

She closed her eyes. I'm nobody, she thought. I'm not even out of my twenties. I've never been anywhere interesting or done anything useful. I'm just a foster brat who got too greedy and cocky, and barely managed to make it out of a tricky situation alive.

“I'm trying to run away,” she whispered. “Inside my head.”

“You promised you wouldn't. And I told you what would happen if you did.” He ran his lips lightly over the delicate shell of her ear, and she shivered. “I would come after you.”

What if she kept her eyes closed and let herself fall back, and trusted that he would catch her?

Tentatively, she leaned back into him.

His arms came around her, and he pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly. “Don't stop talking,” he said, very low. “Show me where you are so I can find you.”

“I feel stupid,” she confessed. “I saw the clues, but I didn't put any of them together.”

“Why would you? Why would any normal person put all of that together?” He kissed her temple. “Does it matter that much to you what I do?”

“Honestly, no, it doesn't,” she told him.

He laughed a little, a quiet exhalation of breath. “Now I am completely in the dark again.”

She shook her head. “I didn't say that right. Of course it matters what you do. In fact, I'm fascinated. But when I heard you talking and put it all together, the thing that shook me was—we made love. I made love to you.”

“I remember it all too well.” He laid his head on her shoulder as he cradled her. “I haven't been able to get it out of my mind.”

She gripped his forearm. “In the moment, I truly felt like I knew what I was doing, and I wasn't just being impetuous, but you know what? I
was
being impetuous, and I
don't
really know you. That's what I realized when I listened to you and Diego. And you were right, when you brought this up earlier—I've barely gotten over the fact that you're a Vampyre. We've been acquainted for six weeks, and we've spent one night together, and . . .” The growing lump in her throat forced her into silence.

“Tess,” he whispered. He rubbed his face in her tousled hair. “I know it's early days, and we have so much more to learn about each other. But it's still okay to fall in love with me. I would be so honored if you did, and I would keep all of your emotions safe. I will never betray your trust. I swear it.”

She let her head fall against his shoulder, turned her face toward him and he bent her back and kissed her, and the thing of it was, she believed him.

She really believed him.

She said against his mouth, “It's hard to let go and stay in one place.”

“I've never once seen you run when you're afraid, and I've seen you very afraid.” His lips pulled into a smile. He kissed the tip of her nose. “You have such courage. It's one of the things I admire most about you.”

Twisting around to face him fully, she slipped an arm around his neck and returned his kiss. Heat built between them, fast and urgent. She clenched her fists in the back of his shirt, so hungry again for him she shook all over.

Somehow, despite everything he'd been through and everything he did, he carried a light inside of himself that made her ravenous. When she wasn't with him, the world felt darker and colder. It was impossible to imagine she could ever get enough of him, and that scared her more than anything.

He slanted his mouth over hers, his lips hardened and demanding. Shuddering, she kissed him back with everything she had. He slid one long-fingered hand into her hair, at the back of her head, holding her in place while he cupped and massaged her breast through the soft, thin material of the robe.

After several moments, he pulled back with obvious reluctance. “Much as I would love to take you back to bed and pick up where we left off, I promised to drive Diego into the city.”

With an immense effort, she tried to chain the crazy woman inside of her that urged her to ignore all common sense and tear off all his clothes. She pulled back enough to search his gaze. “Are you upset over him leaving?”

“I'm disappointed, but I'm not surprised.” He shook his head. “Life at the estate is a very small, specific world.”

“I love it there,” she said quietly.

His face lit with a smile. “I do too, but I also recognize that the lifestyle isn't for everyone. As much as Melisande moans about the rat race in Los Angeles, she could never leave it.” His smile faded. “And I simply don't have anything else to offer him. I offered to talk to Julian about finding Diego a position at Evenfall, but he's determined to make a complete change.”

Straightening her spine, she made herself let go of his shirt. “Do you want me to stay here while you take him?”

“Hell, no,” he said forcefully. He rubbed his face and continued with more moderation. “I'm not leaving you alone in Evenfall, especially not when Justine is around.”

Her expression turned dry. “Well, I would have kept the apartment locked.”

“I don't care. Locks aren't good enough. You're not staying.” He looked over his hand at her. “Come with me while I take Diego into town. We can stay at my town house for a day or two, and you can meet the rest of my attendants.”

Hesitating, she thought it over. As much as she did love the estate, she had spent all of her time there in fear of Malphas finding her. The thought of spending some time in the city did have appeal.

San Francisco might have its dangers, especially for someone who was penniless and on the run, but this time around, a visit should be quite different. Maybe she could even shop for some new clothes that would fit her properly.

Also, she might not know exactly where she and Xavier were headed, but if it turned out they were together for any length of time, it would be good to get acquainted with his people in the city.

“I'd like that,” she told him.

His expression lightened. “I'm glad. We have a couple of hours until sundown.” He added softly, “All I can think of is what I would like to do to you while we wait, but I'm afraid I have other things I need to attend to before we can leave.”

Her gaze fell to the opening of his shirt, and she gave him a slow smile. “Can't they wait?”

While it wasn't making love, his intake of breath was immensely satisfying. He growled, “I would love nothing more than to put them off, but I have to see if Gavin can edit the recording of Julian and Melisande on my phone.” He paused, and when he continued, he sounded very serious. “And I found out a few hours ago one of my operatives has gone missing.”

Her playfulness vanished. “Oh God, I'm sorry. You must be worried.”

“I am.”

She wasn't sure she should ask—she didn't know what any of the boundaries were, in this new, unknown place they had come to—but she went ahead anyway. “Is it . . . anybody I know?”

His expression darkened. “I'm afraid so. It's Marc.”

Shock rippled through her. She hadn't expected him to answer her so readily, or that she would actually know the person involved. “But he just left.”

“I know.” He moved suddenly, a sharp, quick movement he stilled almost at once, but it was another telling slip and indicated the strength of his worry.

A powerful urge gripped her. She wanted to help him so badly, she ached with it, but there was nothing she could do.

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