The Perfect Kiss (21 page)

And the scent! Oh, that rapturous scent that was him, and him alone. Was she only imagining that sweet essence, that tantalizing fragrance? And did it matter? Whether real or imagined, it called to her, lured her to him.

Without quite knowing how, Anya found herself outside Zach’s door. Her hand curled around the knob, and a blast of electricity shot through her. Just a few more steps. Just a little closer. Just a heartbeat away…and he would be hers.

Anya opened the door and stepped into the darkened
room. Zach had left his balcony doors opened to the night, and a chilly breeze drifted through the room, stirring the scents that already whirled inside Anya’s head. Zach lay in bed, asleep. The gossamer curtains around the bed softened his features until he seemed hardly more than an illusion to Anya. A glorious, tempting mirage.

She took a step closer, her heart hammering inside her chest. The sound of Zach’s heart, as loud as a drumbeat, pulsed through the shadowy room like the most irresistible of summons.
Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.

Anya felt weak, shivery, hot and cold all over. She parted the sheer curtains of the bed and stood looking down at him. He was lying on his back, the cover drawn up only to his waist. His chest and arms and shoulders were bare except for the moonlight spilling over him, highlighting the hard definition of his muscles. A sprinkling of golden brown hair on his chest arrowed its way beneath the cover, making Anya’s heart beat even faster. Even in sleep, he looked strong and powerful and oh, so masculine.

A wave of dizziness swept over her as she gazed down at him. She fought the emotion, fought the pull, but her desire burned like a fever inside her, growing and spreading until it consumed every inch of her.

But something else dawned inside her, too. Fear. Fear that she would lose control. Fear that her worst nightmares would come true.

And as Anya stood looking at Zach, she knew she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t trust herself, couldn’t be sure. Even if she were willing to risk her own soul, she couldn’t ask that of Zach. She wouldn’t risk his life…or his soul. Not even to save hers.

She turned to go, but something caught her wrist, something strong and determined and male. Anya whirled, her
gaze meeting Zach’s in the moonlight. He released her hand, but his eyes captured her, held her in thrall.

Resist,
her mind commanded.

Submit,
her heart pleaded.

A thousand sensations rushed through her. Something in her movements, something in the frantic way she put her fingers to her lips must have spoken to him of her confusion, her need, her desperate desire.

He pushed himself up on his elbow, gazing at her with smoldering passion and a desperate hunger almost as great as her own. Anya’s pulse quickened at his look. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and all she could think was
I want him.

The breeze drifted through the gossamer folds of her midnight blue negligee. She wore nothing underneath, and Anya knew that the moonlight was all revealing. In the soft light, Zach’s eyes made love to her. His gaze worshiped her, adored every line and curve of her body until she stood trembling with need. He wasn’t even touching her, and she could feel the ache inside her pulsing, feel the hunger deep within her swelling.

No! Don’t think about that, she warned herself. Don’t think about the darkness, about him. Think about Zach. Only Zach. Think about the tenderness, the passion, the glorious light that surrounds him.

Think about the humanness still inside you, and the womanly passions that Zach liberates.

His eyes ignited in the moonlight. His hair glistened with gold, inviting her fingers. The subtle fragrance of his cologne and the scent of warm masculinity mingled into a combination unbearably thrilling. Anya’s senses came alive as never before.

“Come to me, Anya,” he commanded softly. His voice was low and masterful, darkly erotic and full of promise.
Anya’s insides quivered at the sound, but still he made no move to touch her. He got up, letting the cover slip from his naked body as he stood before her in the moonlight, gazing down at her with a look so fiercely possessive, so dangerously knowing that Anya melted. Her knees trembled. Her heart pounded.

She couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Shall I tell you what I want?” he asked.

“Yes, tell me,” she whispered. “Zach…” She breathed his name into the darkness. His gaze intensified at the sound. His eyes darkened with promise, and Anya knew, at that moment, that she was lost. She closed her eyes as his voice drifted over her like warm, dark velvet.

“I want to touch you,” he said. “All over. Your lips, your hair, your eyes. Your throat. I want to feel your pulse beating against my mouth. I want to rip that lovely gown from your body and look at you for as long as I want to in the moonlight. I want to kiss you…here…” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and Anya felt them tighten, aching with an intensity that made her shiver with anticipation. “…and here…and here…and here,” he murmured, his eyes traveling down her body, warming her, making her tingle all over. “…and especially…here…” he whispered.

His voice stroked her, possessed her, made her burn with a passion that was utterly consuming. Blinded by her desire for him, Anya could almost forget…could almost believe….

Could she do it?

Could she experience one passion without the other? Could she give in to her desire and not her hunger?

Could she?

She was still a woman after all. A part of her still ached with very real, very human wants and needs and desires. With Zach she would know only passion, only light. She
could make the darker urges go away, at least for a little while. At least for one night.

But what if she couldn’t? What if…?

Zach’s eyes blazed with green fire as he gazed down at her. He reached for her, pulled her to him. With one hand, he ripped away the delicate fabric of her gown until the shimmering silk puddled at their feet. Nothing stood between them now. The barriers had tumbled, and the moment of truth had come.

His fingers plunged through her hair, drawing her to him for a long, deep, soul-shattering kiss. Anya felt herself balancing on the edge of a very deep, very dark, very dangerous cliff. The anticipation, the thrill of the moment burst through her, shattering her defenses like a stone thrown through glass.

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded. “Anything…”

“Kiss me,” she pleaded. “Kiss me again and again and again….”

And he did. He backed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers until they seemed one. His tongue drove inside her mouth, searching for hers. Anya’s arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him even closer, and Zach groaned against her lips.

Had there ever been passion before? Had there ever been want and need and desire? From his lips Anya tasted life and passion and heat and light, everything that had been lost to her for so many years. Greedily, she drank them all in, savoring them, devouring each and every sensation as though it might be the last.

He lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, molding their bodies together in just the right places, as he moved toward the bed. They tumbled downward. The slippery satin coverlet against her naked skin made Anya feel even
more reckless, more wanton. She reached for him again and he came to her, covering her body with his own, making her feel breathless and hot and faint with desire. She cupped the back of his neck, dragging his mouth back to hers. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and the faint taste of blood filled her senses.

Passion exploded inside her.

Hunger ravaged through her.

Anya gasped, pulling away, throwing her head back, closing her eyes tightly against the brutal betrayal.

“I loved that,” Zach whispered against her ear. “I love it when you lose control….”

His voice! Oh, what the mere sound of his voice could do to her. How could she resist?

Everywhere he touched her, her cool skin heated and throbbed. The pain, the pleasure, the exquisite wonder of it all! Her body writhed against his. She wanted more and more and more. It was glorious and beautiful and everything she had dreamed it would be…but, the darkness…the hunger…

The taste of Zach’s blood clung to her tongue, and Anya could feel that black need, that evil passion rising up inside her again, controlling her, making her do its bidding.
He’s yours,
it screamed.
Take him!

Anya’s head thrashed against the pillow. For a moment, Zach thought she was in pain, but when he stopped, when he would have moved away, she clutched at his back. Her nails raked his skin, searing him with a fiery desperation that drove him near the edge.

She was like a wild thing beneath him. She arched her body, touching him so intimately Zach thought his heart would beat its way out of his chest.

“Hurry,” she pleaded.

Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, and the action
drew his mouth like a magnet. He kissed her long and hard, and then he kissed her again. She tasted like moonlight, like darkness and shadows and whispering secrets, and when he broke away, when he pulled back to gaze down at her, his breath caught in his throat. She seemed so wild, so feral moving beneath him.

Her pale hair spilled over the pillow, and her eyes, silver and savage and beautiful, burned into his. He couldn’t look away. Whatever he had unleashed inside her slowly but surely lured him toward the edge….

No longer able to resist, he plunged inside her, and Anya gasped. Her movements became even more frantic, more desperate. She wrapped herself around him, pulling him closer, tighter, deeper.

“Hold me,” she whispered. “Don’t let me go.”

Somehow, without knowing how, Zach knew what she wanted. He grasped her wrists with his hands and raised her arms high over her head. He held her, even when she would have broken free, he held her while they both moved closer, ever closer to that dark and dangerous abyss.

Zach knew the exact moment when Anya tumbled over. Her body trembled violently against his. Her eyes widened in wonder, in amazement, those crystal depths beckoning him, promising him heaven.

He kissed her cool lips one last time as he gave in and followed her over the edge.

* * *

There was something in the wind.

Anya sat up in bed. Zach stirred beside her, but slept on. She gazed down at his face and marveled at how easily he rested. Did he not feel it? Did he not feel the evil? It drifted in through the open window as artfully as a whisper.

You are mine, Anya. You will always be mine.

Was it Gershom’s voice or her imagination? Anya
couldn’t be sure. So many emotions, so many voices swirled inside her head. She gazed at Zach. He looked so peaceful in repose. Wasn’t he tormented by guilt? Wasn’t he plagued by visions of darkness and hunger and eternal loneliness? Wasn’t he terrified by what he had done?

Anya alone suffered the regrets. Why should Zach be disturbed? What had he done but care for her? What had he done but trust her? What had he done but make love to an illusion he thought was the perfect woman?

He couldn’t know the consequences, the dangerous repercussions of their actions. He couldn’t know the forces they had unleashed with their passion. He couldn’t know that somewhere out there in the darkness, an unspeakable evil stalked them.

Anya had defied Gershom. She had risen above his deadly lure. She had proven to him that the humanness inside her was just as strong—perhaps stronger—than the darkness. She had shown him that there were passions and needs inside her every bit as great as the hunger.

But at what cost? At what cost had she betrayed him?

She had released a rage inside him that would see both her and Zach dead before he would allow her her freedom now.

Zach rolled over in his sleep. His lips brushed against her bare shoulder, and Anya could have wept at the tenderness, the intimacy of so light a kiss. But she couldn’t weep. Her tears, like so many other things, had been taken from her.

Oh, Zach, Zach, what have I done to you?

She had bound him to her now. Had made him want her more than ever. And Gershom would know that Zach alone had the power to touch the humanness remaining inside her.

Anya’s legs trembled when she stood. She drew on the tattered gown she’d worn earlier and stepped out onto the
balcony. It was so dark out tonight, she thought. Not a drop of light anywhere. Black clouds covered the moon, obliterating even the shadows. The night seemed endless….

I’m coming for you, Anya. Soon. Very soon we shall be together.

Without warning, the beguiling voice drifted through her mind.

“No,” she whispered to the darkness. “Please let me go. Please tell me how to break the bond.”

Her only answer was the sound of his laughter in the wind. Laughter…and another emotion. A deeper, darker, more deadly emotion. Fury, she thought. The jealous fury of a lover betrayed.

Shaking with fear, Anya hurried back inside and bolted the door against the night.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“T
his place is fantastic!”

“Then you approve?” Zach asked as he and Julian Sindel stood near the sagging porch of the old Allison mansion. It had been midafternoon by the time Julian and his crew had arrived, and even later by the time Zach had gotten them all settled into the one tiny inn in Towering Oaks.

Then, just as he and Julian had been about to leave, Roland Sutton and Evan Hawthorne had pulled in, the former as arrogant and condescending as ever, the latter apologetic and remorseful.

Seething with anger at the betrayal, Zach had taken Hawthorne aside. “I thought we’d agreed to keep this to ourselves. The last thing we need is Sutton here, stirring up trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Hawthorne said. “But he heard me making all the arrangements. He asked me point-blank where you were and I couldn’t very well lie to him. Not when—”

“Not when he could be your new boss, is that it?” Zach asked bitterly.

Hawthorne flushed, but defiance edged his voice. “Your father has made no secret of his plans, Mr. Christopher. He’s putting together a new campaign. And Mr. Sutton’s backing him all the way.”