Born of the Night (18 page)

I want no more rumors about any women. The only thing a woman could possibly want

with you is my money and I won't have any bastard, half-bred offspring of yours

enjoying what I've spent my life building!"

Nykyrian opened his mouth to speak and received a vicious backhand.

"Remember my words."

"What are you doing!"

Kiara jumped at Nykyrian's snarl. Heat stung her cheeks at being caught in her snooping.

Rushing forward, Nykyrian cut the power to the viewer. His sharp glare pierced her.

She averted her eyes in guilt. "I just wanted to see what you were like," she whispered.

He ran his hand over his biceps, his gaze still locked on her. Kiara could swear his hand

trembled.

"I don't ever want you to watch any of my personal files again." he said in a ragged whisper. In anger, he stormed from the room.

Despondency, guilt and pain claimed her as she sat holding the control in her hand. She

hadn't meant to hurt him, she had only wanted to see what his childhood was like. Now

she understood only too well why he kept it hidden. Drawing a ragged sigh, she went to

find him and apologize for everything.

Kiara hesitated in the hallway just before entering the main room. Nykyrian sat at the

desk, holding his head in his hands, looking more miserable than anything she had ever

seen. Kiara looked about for Rachol, but he must have left. She moved forward, knelt

beside his chair and placed her hand on his thigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Nykyrian looked at her apologetic face. He couldn't believe she had found his files.

Bitter, agonizing memories tore through him. All the times in his life he had needed

someone to talk to, to hold him, flashed before his mind and he felt like crying. But what

was the use?

He glanced at the pain on Kiara's face as she watched him. There he saw the sincere

caring he had always craved. A desire burned inside him to take her in his arms and find

the solace he needed. He was sure she would give him the peace his soul cried out for.

How easy it would be to trust just this one person. Kiara seemed so loving the way she

looked up at him as if she wanted to soothe his agony. He needed her warmth, her touch,

her love. His mind screamed out a brutal denial. He couldn't trust her, he couldn't trust

anyone.

For once, he didn't listen to the voice inside him and all the warnings it shouted. He

reached out his hand, shaking with the force of his emotions, to her.

Eight

Nykyrian's hand stopped inches from her face. Smiling at the gesture, Kiara clasped his

hand in both of hers and kissed his icy fingertips. His hand trembled as she held onto it.

Indecision darkened his light green eyes.

Kiara waited, stroking the strong tendons of his hand, praying he would hold her.

He buried his other hand under her hair, his fingers lightly stroking her scalp, causing

chills to form all the way down her body. Desire erupted inside her, and she knew tonight

she wouldn't, couldn't, let him go. Tomorrow would probably separate them, but she

would have tonight no matter what.

His arms tightened and he pulled her up to him. His lips claimed hers with a passion born

of desperate need. Kiara moaned with the pleasure of it. She heard his ragged breathing

as he nipped her lips with his teeth. Opening her mouth, she welcomed his warmth, his touch.

He slid from his chair, his hands working magic on her body. Everywhere he touched,

she burned, aching for more. Her heart thundered as she ran her hands down the soft silk

of his shirt, delighting in the way his hard muscles flexed beneath her fingertips.

She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything.

Nykyrian buried his lips in Kiara's neck, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her exotic

perfume. He shook with the force of his need and lost himself in the first true bliss he

could recall ever feeling.

Her welcoming arms held him to her in a gentle embrace he had never thought to feel.

Desire surged through his veins like liquid fire. He clung to her in desperation, needing

her, wanting her.

Chills formed under the warmth of her hands across his back. He gasped as her tongue

played along the tendons of his neck, her teeth gently nipping. He closed his eyes to the

sensation, reveling in it. Reclaiming her lips, he kissed her deeply. For the first time in his life, he felt loved, wanted.

Kiara's body throbbed in an aching need that demanded the feel of his naked body against

hers. She ran her fingers under the collar of his shirt, but that didn't appease her, it only

whetted her appetite more. She moaned in pleasure as he moved his hand over her breast,

down her stomach and underneath the hem of her dress. Chills formed beneath his hand

as he stroked the skin of her stomach. Kiara kissed him fiercely, wanting to keep him

with her.

With a low groan, Nykyrian pulled away, damning himself for his actions. His breath

came in labored gasps as he stood. He stared at Kiara's confused eyes, his body throbbing

in painful arousal. What was he doing?

Running trembling hands through his hair, he couldn't believe what he had done, would

have done, and for that matter, still wanted to do with the tiny dancer.

"I'm sorry."

Kiara blinked, his apology confusing her more than the emotions swirling inside her. "For what?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and turned around. "I had no right to touch you," he whispered.

Kiara's heart lurched at his pain-filled words.

Walking to him, she ran her hand over his back. "You have more right than anyone else,"

she said, gripping his upper arm and turning him around to face her.

He stared at her with those marvelous, beautiful eyes. She ran her hand down his cheek,

her palm scraped by his whiskers. "I want you."

Pain clouded his eyes. He tore away from her as if her touch burned him. "You pity me. I

don't need it, or want it."

"Don't tell me what I feel!" She crossed the floor to stand in front of him.

He tried to move away again, but she grabbed his arm and kept him by her. "You can't

walk away from me, I won't let you."

His jaw tensed. "Maybe I don't want you."

One corner of her mouth lifted. She remembered the number of disks in his cabinet of her

performances, the look on his face as he reached out to her just moments ago. "If that

were true, you would stay still and not keep moving away from me. Face it, soldier, you

want me more than anything!"

His glare intensified. "That's a rather arrogant assumption for you to make."

Her smile spread across her face. "Isn't it though?"

Humor sparkled in his eyes as he stared at her, then it faded. "You don't want me. You

sure as hell don't need me."

Kiara closed her eyes in frustration and prayed for some divine aid to help her get

through to him. "Why do you think that?"

He turned away and grabbed his long, black coat from the couch where he had draped it.

"You're safe here. I'll be back in a little while."

Desperation filled her. If he left without this settled, she knew he would be gone from her

forever. "By God, hybrid," she shouted. "Don't you walk away from me!"

The murderous look he gave her when he turned around caused her to take a step back.

He clenched his hand at his side and she had the distinct feeling he wanted to kill her.

"I thought soldiers were trained to meet conflict, not run," she said, unwilling to back down completely.

He glared at her.

"What is it about me that frightens you?"

He didn't answer.

Kiara wanted to scream in frustration. Could it be true he really didn't want her?

"I'll be back later," he said and headed for the door.

In a bright epiphany, Kiara remembered the scenes in the disks and realized what he was

doing and why he wouldn't let anyone, not even Rachol, close to him. "Why do you think

you can't be loved?"

He froze.

"That's it, isn't it?" she asked, tempted to laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "Somewhere you got the idea that no one can love you. Well, I do and I'm not going to let you leave

me!" Her eyes widened as she realized what had slipped out of her mouth. Horrified at

what she'd said, Kiara bit her lip. Where had that come from?

Nykyrian turned around slowly. A gamut of emotions played across his face as he

received her words.

A glimmer of hope sparked inside her, but Kiara knew she had to move slowly. Closing

the gap between them, she placed her hand on his cheek. He didn't move away.

"I love you," Kiara said with conviction, realizing exactly why she had said what she did.

Nykyrian drew her into his arms, crushing her against him. Her cheek pressed against his

chest, she heard the pounding beat of his heart, felt his warmth surrounding her. And she

never wanted to leave this spot of paradise. Here she was safe, here she belonged.

"I need you." His ragged whisper thrilled her.

She looked up at his passion-darkened eyes and saw the depth of his love for her. "Let me love you, Nykyrian," she pleaded.

His arms tightened around her and he picked her up from the floor and headed for the

stairs.

"Your wound," she gasped, afraid he would hurt himself again.

"I'm fine," he said. And then the most wondrous thing happened, he smiled.

Kiara stared agape. "You've got dimples!"

Instantly, the smile vanished. "I know."

"They're beautiful!" Kiara laughed. "Show them to me again." She fingered his cheek, trying to get another smile from him.

He tossed her on the bed, then stretched out on top of her, pinning her to the mattress in a

way that excited her. He stared into her eyes and smiled again.

"It feels weird," Nykyrian said after a minute. "I'm sure it looks stupid."

Kiara laughed at him. "It looks wonderful. Rachol was right, you should smile more

often."

He picked her hand up and kissed the palm. His warm breath sent a chill up her arm.

"What's your middle name?" she asked suddenly.

He released her hand and stared at her as if she had turned purple. "What?"

"Your middle name?"

He frowned. "Why?"

She toyed with a strand of his blond hair, delighting in the softness of it. "I want to know everything about you and that seemed like a good starting place."

He shook his head at her, his blond hair cupping his face. "Caesare."

She smiled, running her fingertip along his the curves of his mouth. "Nykyrian Caesare

Quiakides. It has a noble ring to it."

A brief moment of pain flashed over his features. It crossed his face so quickly, she

wondered if she had imagined it.

Then he looked back at her with those wonderful, green eyes. "Do you want me to darken

the room?" he asked.

Heat crept over her cheeks. "Please."

He rolled away from her and reached for a control on the table next to his bed.

The lights went out and the ceiling above her head faded to transparency. A thousand

stars twinkled brightly, their light bathing the room in a soft, white glow. "It looks like a dream," she whispered, awed by the beauty. "No wonder you like it here."

He pulled his boots off. "They're not half as beautiful as you are."

His voice was so low, Kiara wondered if he said it, or she imagined it. She sat up and leaned against his back. His sharp intake of breath brought a smile to her face. She ran

her hands down his arms, delighting in the sensation of his muscles tensing under her

hands.

All four lorinas hit the bed at once. The biggest one butted at Kiara, trying to separate her

from Nykyrian.

Nykyrian mumbled a curse. "Pixley, down!" he ordered the big one.

"I didn't know they had names," Kiara said, stroking the smallest one behind the ears.

Nykyrian nodded. "The one your petting is Cintara, Pixley is the biggest, Ulf is the one

with the white patch and the other is Ilyse," he said, pushing Pixley down the stairs.

Once he cleared them from he room, he locked the door.

"How long have you had them?"

"Eight years," he said, pulling his shirt off over his head.

Shyness overcame Kiara as she watched the play of well-defined muscles. Her mouth

dried at the tanned flesh she wanted to run her hands across. She saw the dragon and

dagger tattoo under his left collarbone, the mark of a League Assassin. Somehow, his

career no longer bothered her.

The bed dipped under his weight. He stretched out beside her, his head propped on his

hand as he studied her with an intensity she found unsettling.

Kiara mimicked the gesture. She lay there watching him, afraid to touch him for fear he

would change his mind and leave. After several seconds, he reached his hand out and

touched her hair, spreading it out along the black fur covers.

Kiara smiled warmly, her heartbeat quickening. In spite of all the scars crossing his chest,

she thought Nykyrian had the most handsome body she had ever seen. She touched the

worst-looking scar that ran along his collarbone, just above the tattoo. It looked as if

something had dug a huge claw into his neck. Sadness welled up in her throat, choking

her breath as she thought of all the pain he had suffered in his life.

Nykyrian pulled his hand away from her hair. "You've changed your mind."

The despondency in his voice wrenched a sob from her. "No," she whispered.

He frowned, smoothing a curl from her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb.