You Are Mine (34 page)

Now, after all this time, she understood. It hurt and he didn't know why. “It was my choice,” he said curtly. “No one forced me to stay with you.”

She stared at him, the force of her silver gaze almost palpable. “Well. Now you're free. You don't have to stay and protect me anymore, Zac. I have to learn how to do that myself.”

Perhaps it was the thing she'd cracked inside him with the earlier devastation on her face. Or perhaps it was the culmination of fear and anger overwhelming all his restraints. Or perhaps he just wanted to touch her and couldn't stop himself from doing so any longer.

But one minute she was setting him free, the next he had his hand on her throat and she was backed up against the wall of the little gallery, his other hand on the wall beside her head.

She'd gone very still, her eyes wide, the rise and fall of her breasts quick and hard with her accelerated breathing. She didn't speak, but he could feel her pulse against his palm, a precious sign of life.

“I will do whatever the
fuck
I like,” he growled. “And if that means protecting you, if that means being there for you, if that means fucking you here up against this wall then I will. Understand? You don't get to tell me what to do anymore.”

Her lashes came down for a moment, veiling her gaze. He could scent her, the familiar vanilla of her skin and the soft musk of something else. Arousal. It slid through him like a drug, setting fire to him and all his good intentions, burning them to ash.

Then her lashes came up, her clear, gray eyes looking into his. “You want to be there for me? Then prove to me I'm not a victim. Prove to me that I'm as strong as you keep saying I am.”

He didn't pretend to misunderstand her. He knew a sensual challenge when he heard one. “I've already done that once.”

She didn't even blink. “Don't you want to do it again?”

This time he couldn't say to himself she didn't know what she was getting into. That she didn't understand what he wanted from her. She knew.

He wanted it more than he wanted life itself.

Weren't you not going to have her again?

Sex. It was only sex. It didn't have to mean anything beyond the physical. He could control that other hunger, that hunger for more. He would never give her anything more. God knew, she already had enough power over him as it was.

He stroked his thumb almost absently across the soft, vulnerable skin of her throat. It felt like silk. There was so much he wanted from her, so much he wanted to do …

“Yes,” he said, reduced to nothing but painful honesty now. “I want to do it again.”

She swallowed, and he could feel her throat press against his palm. “So do it.”

“I swore I wouldn't.”

Frustration sparked in her eyes. “Why not? Was it really so bad the first time?”

“No. Fuck, no.” He paused, still stroking her, unable to help himself. “It was too good. And that's why. You test my control, Eva. I can't have that.”

“Why? Because of your parents? That officer you hurt? That's bullshit, Zac, and you know it.” The sequins of her dress glittered in time with her accelerated breathing, her breasts pressing against the fabric.

“Addiction is hereditary. Violence stains your soul.”

“You spent seven years with me, wanting me, and yet you didn't touch me, not even once. Addicts can't do that. They take eventually and damn the consequences. And as for the violence part…” Her jaw firmed. “That was an accident. You didn't go in there trying to kill him, only to protect the woman he was hurting. Shit, I would have done the same thing myself if I'd been in your shoes.”

Of course she would. Little warrior that she was.

He stilled his thumb over her pulse.

Yet he hadn't given her the whole truth. There was another memory, another truth he hadn't given her. But that was his, a private pain he wouldn't share with anyone.

Her complex, bright heartbeat thumped against the tip of his thumb. The smell of her was intoxicating, the heat of her skin a seduction all by itself.

Relief and anger echoed through him, weakening all his usual restraints.

“I need this, Zac,” she whispered into the silence. “And I think you do, too.”

Such a simple statement. It shattered him completely.

Zac slid his hand higher up her neck, his palm cupping her fragile jaw. He firmed his fingers along the delicate line of it, tilting her head back. Holding her in place.

Then he covered her mouth with his.

She quivered, her lips parting beneath his without hesitation. As if she'd been waiting centuries for him to kiss her. And she tasted exactly as he remembered from two nights ago, so fucking sweet. She was hungry for it too, he could taste it, her desire delicious on his tongue.

He kissed her harder, deeper, keeping his hand on her jaw. Demanding everything. Taking everything.

But before it consumed them both, he lifted his head. Stared down into her darkening eyes. Keeping his hand exactly where it was on her throat, he reached with the other into his pocket to get his phone. Dialed a number.

“Temple?” he murmured when it was answered, not taking his gaze from Eva's. “Make sure the car is outside. Miss King and I will be leaving in five minutes.”

He put his phone away and slowly, very slowly, let Eva go.

She stayed where she was, the wall at her back. A flush had crept over her pale skin, her mouth full and pink from his kiss.

“Fitzgerald can wait tonight,” he said roughly. “Right now we're going home.”

“What about Gabe and Alex?”

“They can wait too. We'll call a Circles meeting in the morning.” One more night. That's all he wanted and that's what he was going to have.

Zac stepped back to give her some space. “Angel. You're going to walk out of here with your chin up, your head held high like you're the queen of the fucking universe. And you'll do it alone. Show him you won't be beaten. That you're not insignificant.”

She blinked, but there was determination in her expression, her usual courage coming to the fore. “What about you?”

“I'll follow you.” He allowed the dragon to flicker through his eyes. “So I can watch your delectable arse.”

She flushed, but didn't say a word. Instead she lifted her chin and swept past him as if she was, indeed, a queen.

He followed her back through the corridors to the crowded gallery where the party was still going on. Watching the graceful way she walked, the sway of hips and arse.

She kept her head high and her chin lifted, not looking either right or left, keeping her gaze squarely in front of her. Moving without hesitation.

People stood by to let her go past, some of them staring, some of the whispering, but she didn't stop or falter as she headed toward the exit. The flush had faded from her skin and she was pale, but apart from that she betrayed no sign of fear.

Not even as she passed the cluster of people surrounding Fitzgerald.

The man continued talking but his gaze followed Eva all the way to the door.

Prick.

As Eva vanished through it, Zac paused. Sure enough, the other man's attention soon focused on him. Zac smiled politely. Then showed his teeth.

Fitzgerald didn't know it yet, but he was already dead.

*   *   *

The car journey back to Zac's house was silent, but Eva didn't feel the need to speak. She felt silenced by the memory of Zac's mouth on hers and his hand on her throat.

There had been possession in the way he'd touched her. Like he was claiming her back from the man who'd made her feel so small, so ashamed. Humiliated.

She wanted him to keep going, no matter that they were in a public place. Wanted to bask in the feeling of his possession like a cat in the sun, absorbing the heat of it. The strength of it. Because she'd never felt insignificant with Zac. Never felt like she didn't matter. Not when he'd made her feel like she was the center of the universe.

But then this wasn't entirely about herself any longer. There was him now.

She'd told him she'd needed this, to test her strength against him, to feel like she mattered, that she wasn't as insignificant as Fitzgerald had told her she was. Yet she'd known when she'd looked up into his face and seen the conflict in his eyes, that he needed it too.

He had demons he hadn't told her about. Demons he was afraid of. And if they could make a man like Zac Rutherford afraid, then they were formidable indeed.

She wished he'd let her help him fight them.

Eva stared at him in the deep, heavy silence of the car. He was sitting opposite her as he usually did, his hands folded with their normal elegant simplicity in his lap. Every aspect of him was neat. His suit tailored to perfection, his bowtie centered, his white shirt crisp. His black hair had gotten a little long, the ends curling over the collar of his shirt, but that was the only aspect of him that hadn't been ruthlessly contained.

He was
so
controlled. Polite and correct.

And yet it was a façade, hiding the heart of a man who was anything but.

A memory flashed in her head, of the sound of his voice and the heat of his body as she'd been tied to that chair and blindfolded. He'd been rough and raw then, she'd bet her life on it. Yet it still felt like he'd been holding back.

Only one explanation made sense. He was protecting himself because he was afraid of something. Was it simply the idea of being out of control? Yes, there were passions in him, intense desires, yet he didn't act on them without thought or disregard the consequences.

He wasn't his parents. He wasn't an addict, surely he knew that? Or was it something more? Something he hadn't shared with her?

The car was slowing, coming to a halt outside his house. A moment later, Temple had opened the door, letting the cold of the late winter air into the warm interior of the car.

Eva got out, waiting until Zac had followed her before they both went up the stairs to his front door. He unlocked it, pushed it open, and gestured for her to go inside.

It was warm in his house and she couldn't stop herself from shivering in reaction, the door shutting heavily behind them.

“Angel,” he said, and she heard the hard edge of the Dom in his voice.

She turned.

He was standing by the front door, tall and dark in his tux, golden eyes glinting in the dim light of the hall. “Stay there. Don't move.” Then he began to stalk toward her.

Her heart kicked against her ribs, but she did what she was told, watching him approach. “I'm … I'm not afraid,” she said shakily, wanting him to know. “You don't have to hold back like you did before.”

He circled around her like a wolf circling its prey, coming to a stop behind her. “Oh, I don't intend to. Believe me.” His fingertips brushed her bare back, finding the tab of the zipper on her gown. “You remember your safeword?”

Another shiver whispered over her skin. “V-Void.”

“Good girl.” Slowly he began to draw the zipper down, the material loosening around her.

Eva swallowed as the fabric fell from her. She hadn't worn a bra because the gown was strapless, which meant that now she was standing in his hallway in only the silver lace panties he'd bought for her days before and the little silver slippers Honor had ordered for her so she didn't have to negotiate a party in unfamiliar heels.

Fear made a reflexive appearance, but along with it, running through it like a vein of gold through a seam of coal, was desire. Pure and glittering, molten with heat.

Desire for him.

She waited, shaking a little with anticipation, staring at the wall in front of her while every sense she had was focused behind her on where he stood. Her skin felt strangely tight and she was half scared of what would happen if he touched her, half desperate for it anyway.

Yet he did nothing.

“Zac?”

“Keep still,” he murmured, his voice taking on that deep, dark, sensual quality she remembered from days ago. “I don't want to hear a sound from you unless it's your safeword.”

Why? What the hell was he doing?

She took a breath.

“You can obey me, can't you, angel?” His voice was near her ear, freezing her in place. “You can do it? For me?”

Her chest constricted painfully, her throat tight with emotion.

Such simple questions and yet she could hear the need in each word, a rough, frayed edge running beneath the smooth sensuality of his tone.

She'd never wanted to give anything of herself to him or to anyone else. She'd been too afraid. But she wasn't afraid any longer. And he deserved everything she had.

So she let go the questions and didn't speak, only nodded. And when she felt his lips brush the sensitive skin beneath her ear, she knew he'd understood. But then he stepped back and she had to bite down on her instant protest, determined to prove herself to him.

His hands moved to her hips, fingers sliding underneath the waistband of her panties. “You like my gift I see.” He began to tug them down. “I'll have to get you some more.”

She didn't move as she felt him slide them down her legs till they were around her ankles. Then he helped her step out of her slippers, taking her panties off as she did so, leaving her completely naked.

Staring at the wall, goose bumps rising all over her skin, Eva felt his hands close around her ankles then slide upward, caressing. “Or maybe not,” he said softly, stroking her thighs. “Maybe I'll just keep you naked twenty-four hours a day. Accessible whenever I want.”

She took a ragged, shaken breath as his fingers grazed her upper thighs, a subtle, insistent ache beginning to grip her tight. The light touch was only making her hungrier, more desperate in a way she'd never experienced before. How strange to actually be hungry for more touch. To ache for it.

His hands fell away and she felt the absence like a loss. But not for long. The rustle of fabric came from behind her as he rose to his feet. And when his fingers came to rest lightly on the bare skin of her hips, she almost gasped aloud at the shock.