Oxford Shadows (22 page)

“I’m glad we tried, though. Anyway, I’ll get someone to look closer at that Aurélie.” He waved her off when she started protesting. “We have people working on our security details. It won’t take long for them to find out who that woman is. If there’s some dirt to dig up on her, they’ll find it. We’ll use the leverage to convince her she should stay out of your way.”

She nodded. The fact that the Vances seemed to have half of Britain working for them still baffled her. It cost her to rely on their money and influence, but she loved Rupert and the whole high-net-worth thing was part of the package.

“And in the meantime my father’s in Japan. That gives us a few days to come up with the next plan.”

He slid two of his fingers between her skin and the waistband of her jeans and dragged her toward him. She fitted between his parted legs. His hands moved away from her belt and started caressing the sides of her ribcage. Goosebumps broke out on the path of his caress. When he reached the thin cotton of her bra, her nipples hardened, betraying their need to be cupped. Rupert’s thumbs teased and plucked them.

“Mmmm,” was her only reaction.

She felt his thrusting against her lower stomach through the material of his jeans and the apron. He untied the apron and threw it on the ground. His hands took hold of her bottom, lifting her so her legs circled his waist. Their mouths crashed against each other, and she gave a small bite at his lower lip.

He groaned. “We need to get to my room, otherwise I’ll take you right here on the garden table.”

“Why not?” she mumbled against his lips.

He tore himself from their kiss. “Seriously?” Surprise was etched all over his face. Surprise and excitement.

“Your room,” Madison giggled, “
now
.”

She hugged him tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck. Despite her added weight, he climbed the stairs two at a time. He slowed down when they reached his bed and lowered her onto the mattress. Madison could have sworn her heart would soon spring out of her chest in sheer anticipation. Rupert stared down at her. He stood on the side of the bed and her skin ignited under his hunger. She supported herself on her elbows, thrusting her swollen breasts upward, challenging him to touch her.

“Get undressed,” she ordered.

Rupert stripped off his shirt one button at a time. His lean torso, and the defined lines of his pecs and abs begged her fingers to touch them. She didn’t have time because he was already all over her, pinning her against the soft material of the duvet. The duvet with his clean lavender smell all over it. The salty taste of his lips gave an edge to the familiar scent.

In a few swift movements, Rupert undressed her down to her underwear. His kisses trailed down the narrow space between her breasts to her belly button, and stopped where her panties started. She buried her fingers in his hair, trying to pull him back. Until now she had never let him go down there, at least not without the soft barrier of her panties.

“Make love to me, Rupert.”

“I am.” His eyes implored her to let go. “Please, trust me.”

She did with a nod and Rupert’s lips brushed against the skin at the top of her thighs. The tingle stole a tiny moan from her. He slid two fingers beneath the cotton of her panties. They teased her lips, entered her. The jolt of pleasure had her hands clutching the duvet. When his thumb found her soft spot, she cried out his name. The twin touch—inside her and on the most sensitive parcel of skin—shot pleasure through her. She begged him to continue, to take her further up.

He stopped. She was about to come … and he freaking stopped.

Rupert didn’t let her crash, though. He kept her flying by blowing hot breath on her inner thighs. The respite was temporary, as the invisible pressure triggered a new smoldering heat inside her belly. Slowly, he pulled her lingerie down her legs and threw it away, then buried his face in her. His tongue licked her flesh.

A begging “God …” escaped from her mouth. She sucked in a mouthful of air.

Rupert straightened up, squatting between her parted legs. Without warning, he flipped her body so she lay on her belly and undid her bra. She heard the rustling noise of him getting undressed, then a drawer opening and the tearing of foil as he got a condom. He nestled his naked body against hers, his hard-on throbbing against her buttocks.

“I need you to go on the pill, baby. This thing between us …” He lifted her chest so his hands could cup each of her breasts. “It drives me crazy. I want to feel you completely.”

She might have mumbled a promise. She didn’t know because at that moment he entered her from behind and pleasure detonated throughout her. The come and go of his hips made her arch against him. His magic finger slid again underneath her and found the same spot as before, rubbing it. More harshly this time.

The ache exploded and she came. She shouted his name. He didn’t pause or let her recover but grabbed her shoulders and made her squat against him. With a few shoves from his knees, he managed to shift her against the headboard of his bed. He directed her hands so they lay at the level of her shoulders, flat against the wall.

And Rupert showed her that once was never enough.

My son is driving our car through the pitch dark of the night. His anger permeates his entire demeanor: his hands clenching the steering wheel, the vein pulsing on the side of his forehead, the biting of his lower lip. I know him so well. Almost eighteen years have passed since I gave birth to him.

My happiness did not survive long afterwards. His father revealed himself to still be the cheater he had been so long ago, in a different century. I did not always remember that past life. Lately memories wake me at night. Nightmares. Frigid water engulfing me. Drowning.

I have to shake myself. Right now I should concentrate on my child, on his well-being. He is the reason I did not give up on life this time around. He is almost a man now. Maybe, maybe, I can turn the page on Henry and our ill-fated love. I will be the one walking away. For the love of my son. For him to be proud of me.

Fat raindrops splash against the windshield. Concern makes my hand grab the edge of the passenger seat. “Please slow down. I don’t like you driving so fast in the rain.”

“How can you let him treat you like that?” The palm of his hand hits the steering wheel. “Again and again, he humiliates you.”

“
Don’t believe all the gossip you hear.” But they are not rumors; they are the truth. I try and spare my son. I do not want him to give up on real love. On trust. On marriage. His father is setting the most disastrous example.

“
His mistress is the mother of one of my closest friends!” His gaze tears away from the road to shoot its pain at me.

“
That’s not a conversation I want us to have. You know that.”

“
As long as that bastard still rolls you in the mud, I won’t let it go away. I swear I’m going to kill him.”

“
Don’t talk about your father like—”

An abrupt jerk of the car makes my body crash against the door. Pain radiates through my hip. My eyes reconnect with the road ahead, but lose sight of it right away. We are gliding and flying toward the unknown.

The last thing I hear is my scream.

The last thing I feel is the burning of the broken glass tearing at my face.

The last thing I see is my son, unconscious and bleeding next to me.

Rupert.

“Rupert!” Madison opened her eyes in the darkness of her room, the room she now shared with him. With Rupert.

“Baby, what’s going on?” he asked in a sleepy moan.

They had both fallen into sleep after making love.

“Nothing. Get back to sleep.”

She didn’t want to tell him what she’d seen, not until she had figured out what it actually meant. Voodoo ritual or not, that last vision had been acutely clear. She had lived through it as if it were happening to her, Madison,
live
. And that made the latest discovery even more hope shattering.

Liliana had not only lived in sixteenth-century Italy. She had lived in another country and another century altogether. And she had still been alive not so long ago, no more than four years ago. Could it be true? Or was she reading too much into a vision? Maybe it had only been a dream, a figment of her imagination.

Liliana and Laura Vance were one and the same.

30

RUPERT PRETENDED he was paying attention to Ollie’s nerdy rambling on about Henry the Eighth’s artistic achievements. Ollie walked ahead of them, up St. Helen’s Passage, the cobbled path leading out of the Turf into New College Lane. They had celebrated Madison’s move into his house earlier that day and Ollie had indulged too much in the champagne Rupert had paid for.

The downside of Ollie recovering from his heartbreak was twofold. Firstly, he had returned to his geeky self. Secondly, he had started enjoying alcohol again. And the guy couldn’t take his booze.

“Henry the Eighth really could’ve been anything he wanted to be, in addition to ruling a kingdom.” Ollie was marching backward while talking. His back hit the wall of the alleyway. “Whoo-hoo.”

Rupert rushed toward him and helped straighten him up. “Try to watch where you’re going.”

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I enjoyed the sparkling wine a bit too much.” Ollie sucked in some air and blew it out, his cheeks rattling.

“That was a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, Ollie, not some
sparkling wine
,” Rupert mumbled.

He noticed Madison biting her lower lip, while her gaze was wracked with concern about Ollie’s silhouette. Since they had woken up from their nap she had seemed worried, as if her mind wasn’t really there.

“Come here,” Rupert whispered, pulling her against him. “He’s going to be fine.” He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head and rubbed her arm. “We’ll drop him at Christ Church, then let’s get back home. I’m exhausted.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Have I asked too much from you today?”

“Maybe …” but he couldn’t prevent his lips from curling. “I’m always ready to push the limits. And anyway, if I remember correctly you were the one who wanted to stop because you felt sore.”

She gave him a faint slap on the forearm.

They entered New College Lane. A black four-wheel drive with darkened windows was parked illegally at the corner of the narrow road. That in itself would have peaked Rupert’s interest, but Madison stopped suddenly, standing still by his side, her eyes glued on the car. He stepped forward protectively.

“What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to panic, but with all that had happened he expected the worst from any situation now.

Madison shook her head. He saw her eyes widen at the same moment the car door slammed. Rupert reinforced his stance, squared his shoulders. Whoever was in the goddamned car, Rupert meant business.

The elegant black woman facing him wasn’t what he expected. She was tall, almost six foot, regal, her head wrapped in bright material, her body covered in a dark woolen coat that almost reached the ground. She headed toward him, her hands buried in the pockets of the coat. Not once did her gaze waiver from his. She let it be known she wasn’t there to bullshit.

“I’m here to talk to Madison.” French accent, thick and low. Aurélie. The woman who had lured Madison into her obscure cult.

Rupert’s fingers flexed and he felt a twitch in his cheek, a sure sign he was getting pissed. He was blocking the woman’s view of Madison, so Aurélie leaned her head forward, staring up at him, silently making a point: Rupert had to step aside.

“Whatever you want to say, Rupert can listen.” Maddie had overtaken him. She entwined her fingers with his. Their slight trembling contradicted the steel in her voice.

“He’s not one of us,” Aurélie said.

“Madison isn’t either,” Rupert snapped.

Ollie chimed in, “What’s going on, guys?”

Next to Rupert, Madison sucked in a short breath through her teeth. Her stare swung between Ollie and Aurélie. Rupert could see she clearly didn’t want the boy involved. He had to intervene.

“Ollie, why don’t you wait for us in front of Hertford College? We’ll catch up in a minute.”

Madison thanked Rupert with a tight smile.

Aurélie waited for Ollie to be at a safe distance before returning her attention to Madison. “You ignored my calls all day. I was waiting for an answer. We need you tomorrow ni—”

Rupert cut her off. “We’re busy tomorrow night. Actually, we’re taken for the rest of the term.” He had kept his tone mundane, but when he stepped closer to Aurélie, his full size outmatching hers, he had ice in his voice. “From now on, you will leave Madison alone. She has no interest in attending your sick parties anymore.”

Aurélie sized him up, letting her eyes wander up and down the length of his body. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and licked her lower lip. Blatant desire blurred her gaze. Rupert recoiled, her hungry eyes making him feel cheap, but he waited for her to finish her sexual assessment.