Archangel of Mercy (7 page)

Her hair was tangled, her clothes in shreds and her naked breasts tempted him more than they had any right to.

He had no intention of keeping her forever. The minute he was sure it was safe for her to return to Ireland was the last minute she would spend on his island.

But no mortal told him what he could or couldn’t do.

“Watch me.”

Her ragged breath caressed his jaw; her fingers tangled in his hair and dug into his shoulder. Damn her for arousing him with every move she made.

“What is this place?” She hitched in another breath, her nipples grazing his chest in an erotic kiss. “Are you some kind of crazy scientist conducting illegal experiments?”

He dragged his mesmerized gaze from where their bodies meshed and glowered at her. His frantic libido urged him to ignore her ludicrous statement. It would take no effort to strip her shorts away, to free his cock and thrust into her tight embrace. She was wet, she was ready and no matter what crazy shit she insisted on talking about he knew, without doubt, she wanted him.

“What?” The word jerked from him without his permission. “Do I
look
like a crazy scientist?”

Her hands slid downward until they were flattened against his naked chest. He’d not felt anything so damned seductive in millennia.

“You’ve mastered teleportation.” The tips of her fingernails grazed his flesh, as if she couldn’t decide whether to caress him or gouge him. “And exactly what kind of security system have you set up here? Because I’ve never come across anything like it before in my life.”

Through the layers of frustration and incredulity one coherent thought clarified. He was on the edge of sexual combustion and all she could talk about was his fucking
security
system
.

“I already told you.”
Had
he told her about the force field that enclosed the island? “It keeps the Guardians out.” And had the added benefit of concealing the island from human prying without the need for constant glamours.

“And keeps me
in
.” Her voice was accusing but her fingers caressed his chest, a featherlight touch that drove him mad with elusive promise.

“Of course it doesn’t.” It was a damn effort to process her random comments, to articulate intelligent responses. “You can travel through it as easily as I can.”

“No I—” She cut herself off and her eyes widened. “You mean I can
physically
just walk out of here?”

Fury scalded his senses even as utter disbelief hammered through his brain. She was talking about leaving
again
? When he was as hard as a rock and they were seconds from screwing?

His hands fisted into the cushions of the sofa. She looked up at him, the picture of sultry innocence, as if she had not the slightest clue of the lust that raged between them. Couldn’t she feel the extent of his erection between her thighs? Was she was completely unaware of how her arousal scented the air?

“We’re on an island in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.” His voice was harsh. “I’d like to see you try and walk out of that.” When she opened her mouth to argue that point as well, he bared his teeth in a savage snarl. “And believe me, Aurora, nobody will ever be able to find you unless I allow them to.”

Chapter Ten

I
N
the back of her desire-drenched mind, Aurora knew that she should shove Gabe onto the floor and regain a modicum of self-respect. But despite his breathtaking arrogance and Neanderthal tendencies
and
the humiliating fact she could detect feminine perfume clinging to his clothes, her fingers refused to cooperate.

Her hands remained plastered against his chest as if they were welded to his iron-hard pecs. And no matter how hard she tried to break eye contact, his intense glare mesmerized her.

“How do you know that?” If only she sounded more in control. If only every breath she took wasn’t filled with the scent of his raw masculinity. “Make a habit of abducting potential subjects and hiding them on your island?”

He gave her a feral grin and looked as if he’d like nothing more than to sink his teeth into her carotid artery. The image was shockingly arousing, and without conscious thought she rubbed her palms against the seductive dusting of hair across his sculpted chest.

“That’s right.” He rammed his erection against her sensitized flesh and the air punched from her lungs.

“You . . .” She had no idea what she’d been about to say and it didn’t matter because he slammed down onto her, crushing her hands between their near-naked bodies.

It would be so easy to push her questions and concerns aside. So easy to lift her mouth to his, to wrap her legs around his thighs, to let the desire overpower her myriad worries.

He expected her to. She writhed in frustrated need as his hand skimmed her waist, wrenched the button from her shorts and slid inside. His breath hissed against her open mouth as his finger circled her swollen clit, the pressure just enough to send shockwaves splintering through her womb, to have her panting mindlessly for more.

“Better.” He smiled in blatant triumph, as if her imminent surrender was exactly what he expected, and as his finger slid inside her wet channel a moan of pure need rasped her throat.

She wanted him with a desperation that shocked her, but even as the need pounded, even as he slid a second finger inside her, a silvery thread of sanity glinted.

She couldn’t let him deflect her questions with sex. If Gabe believed she was completely in his sexual thrall, he would never tell her anything.

“Wait.” She pushed against his chest. He growled against the curve of her neck and continued to torture her, his fingers inside her and his thumb tracing with exquisite expertise against her vulnerable clit.

“No. Stop talking.” His voice was raw with lust but it was a command nevertheless. She squirmed, clutched his chest. Why was she trying to resist him? He was irresistible. She wanted him and that was . . . enough.

“
Gabe
.”

He reared up, just enough so he could look at her, and even in the gloom she could see the flash of disbelief in his eyes. As if her continued resistance to his undoubted charms staggered him.

Thank god he had no idea just how hard she found it to . . . resist his charms.

“I need to know . . .” What did she need to know? All she knew was how much she wanted him. “How I can contact—”

He bared his teeth and practically snarled. “You don’t
need
to know anything. Is that clear?”

It was clear he was on the edge. The thought hammered through her brain, igniting what remained of her good sense. But still she couldn’t let it go. If she had to remain here for a while that was one thing. But she couldn’t disappear without a word. She had to let her mother know that everything was okay.

She dug her nails into his rock-hard muscle. He aroused and infuriated her in equal measure, and the combination was potent and primal. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to punch his face or screw him senseless.

Of course she knew.
She wanted to do both. Simultaneously.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot.” If he didn’t answer her soon she was going to forget why her questions were so important.
And they were important.
“Just tell me how I can get through your security shields.”
And for god’s sake, hurry up.
She couldn’t hold him off much longer. Didn’t
want
to. Shit, maybe they could just have this conversation afterward, when her mind was clear?

With a violent curse in that strange language he’d used before, he pushed himself off her. Staggered by his sudden departure she stared up at him as he stood by the side of the sofa, his bare chest heaving with exertion, the breath hissing between his clenched teeth.

He looked magnificent, like an untamed barbarian from the dawn of time. The image burned into her brain, inflaming her blood and incinerating the last lingering remnants of good sense she retained.

Her limbs were heavy, uncoordinated, but she struggled to sit up and slide her legs off the sofa. She needed his arms around her, needed to feel his body against hers.
Needed
this ravening desire to be sated before she tumbled into madness.

“Three ground rules.” His voice was pure controlled fury. “Don’t give me orders. Stay out of my way. And”—he paused for a heartbeat and his condemning glance seared her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet—“for gods’ sakes, clean yourself up.”

—

GABE LEANED BACK
in his chair and stared at the ceiling of his office. After sifting through the intel on the disc Jaylar had given him he’d sent a telepathic message to the man informing him he would take the case. The holographic images of the dark-haired little girl imprinted on his brain and churned up long-buried memories of another small girl; a child who had once cradled his heart in her tiny hands.

He squeezed his eyes shut, forced the ancient memory back into the shadowy corners of his shredded soul.
His precious Helena
. He would never forget and he would never forgive. But vengeance had corroded him long ago and now there was nothing left but an echo of guilt and loss and an elusive whisper of the love that had once embraced his life.

Slowly he flexed his fingers, forced his eyes open. The interminability of his existence stretched out before him, a bleak desert of meaningless interactions. If he hadn’t had his missions to occupy his mind over millennia he would have sunk into oblivion long ago.

The silence wrapped around him, a soothing cocoon. Brooding, he stared through the window as the moonlight turned the forest into a silvery mirage. He had spent nights without number doing just this. But tonight, instead of the solitude numbing his fractured psyche it only served to reinforce the knowledge that he was
not
alone.

How much longer was Aurora going to take? After he’d directed her to his bathroom—since it was the only damn bathroom in the villa—she’d flounced through his bedroom as if she were an Alpha goddess. Never mind that her clothes were in tatters and her hair was a tangled mess, or that she’d left him so fucking hard he could barely walk upright.

Stay out of his way? That was a joke. How did he think that was going to work when he had no intention of allowing her to leave his island until he was sure she’d be safe? When there was only one bedroom? When, in reality, he had no inclination whatsoever of having Aurora under his roof without also having her in his bed?

As if his thoughts had summoned her, he heard his bedroom door open and with a flicker of disgust acknowledged the anticipation that fired his blood. He continued to stare through the window and deliberately didn’t turn when he saw her reflected presence hovering at the open door of his office.

Let her wait.

And within a couple of seconds he was the one who could no longer wait. He turned, and swallowed the groan that threatened to disgrace him.

She was wearing the shirt he’d left out for her. Only now did he realize, with self-derision, that the shirt was blue. To match her eyes. And far from hiding her tempting curves she’d folded her arms and caused the soft cotton to hug her breasts and skim her thighs. Her hair was still damp and curled into enticing tendrils over her shoulders, and she was glaring at him as if she’d like nothing better than to gouge out his eyes.

“Well?” Her voice was sharp, disagreeable, and he couldn’t remember the last time a mortal had ever used such a tone with him. “I don’t know about you but I’ve had a really long day and I’m starving.”

Shit
. It hadn’t occurred to him that Aurora wouldn’t simply help herself to whatever was in the kitchen. It was well stocked with nonperishables. And although he didn’t like the way she was looking at him or the way she addressed him he had to agree. It had been a hell of a long day for her.

The realization did nothing to improve his mood.

“Everything you need is downstairs. There was no need to starve yourself to try and prove a point.”

“Oh, I don’t think
I’m
the one trying to prove a point here, do you?”

For a second he stared at her, speechless at her nerve. It had been a long time since he’d put himself out to aid a mortal, especially a human indigenous to Earth, and this was the reason why.

Because they were ungrateful, selfish and egocentric.

By rights Aurora should be worshipping at his feet. But instead she behaved as if he was the one in the wrong. The overwhelming urge to show her exactly who and what he was flooded his senses, to watch the shock ricochet through her as she struggled to comprehend, and yet he had the resigned conviction that the moment had passed.

He was condemned to share his sanctuary for the next who knew how many nights with a woman determined to make him continually regret his uncharacteristic gesture of benevolence.

“I have nothing to prove to you.” He stood up and didn’t miss the way her eyes darkened at his approach. She wanted him. But still she denied him. He didn’t understand it and, despite his best intentions to ignore everything about Aurora Robinson, her stubbornness was seriously pissing him off.

He’d never had to beg a woman for sex and he certainly wasn’t starting now. Usually the problem was avoiding females who wanted him but did nothing for his libido.

This was a first.
Almost a first
. The ancient memory drifted in his mind and he shoved it brutally back into the shadows where it belonged.

“Really?” Her voice was scathing as she hastily backed away from the door. He took grim satisfaction from the knowledge his closeness unnerved her. “Because I’m starting to think that whole Guardians stuff is a load of old rubbish you made up to justify your actions.”

She stood barely an arm’s length from him, glaring at him as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to knee him in the balls or tackle him to the floor for another reason entirely. And right now it didn’t matter. How
dare
she suggest he had orchestrated the Guardians’ arrival for his own purposes?

He rolled his shoulders and craved to feel, just one last time, the exquisite euphoria of unfurling his wings. Of rendering Aurora inarticulate with awe.

“If there’s one thing you should know about me.” He waited until she stopped fidgeting and once again, with obvious reluctance, looked him in the eyes. “It’s this. I have no need to ever justify my actions to anyone. Least of all to you.”

—

AURORA SPLAYED HER
fingers against the curved edges of the sink in the kitchen and took another deep breath. Five minutes ago, after telling her exactly how little he thought of her, Gabe had stalked down the stairs and by the time she’d recovered her wits enough to follow him, he’d vanished.

Once again leaving her alone in his villa.

Her stomach growled but the thought of eating caused nausea to rise. God, what was she going to do?

Slowly she turned around and leaned back against the workbench. Despite her cheap shot, she didn’t believe for a second Gabe had anything to do with that violet lightning that had appeared in her parents’ living room. She didn’t believe he was a serial kidnapper, either.

He’d abducted her not because he was a mad scientist who collected victims in order to experiment on them, but because he genuinely thought she was in danger from the Guardians. And he was keeping her because he thought she was still in danger.

Logically, she understood that. Accepted that. The trouble was he managed to stir up a sizzling whirlpool of emotions whenever he looked at her, never mind touched her, that caused cold logic to fail every time. But what really burned her pride was how he’d virtually told her she stank seconds after trying to seduce her.

Fine. If he was incapable of conducting a civilized conversation then she’d find the answers she needed by herself. Damn his orders. She’d search his office. There was sure to be some way of contacting the outside world. And with luck she’d discover the secret of his mysterious security shields. Because if there was a way to replicate them, then surely there should be some way of adapting the technology so that
she
could use it to repel the Guardians?

And then she could go home to Ireland. To her family.