Dark Secret (13 page)

Colby swept a hand through her hair. “I’m tired and it’s been a rotten day. I will admit you’ve helped me enormously and you took my mind off Pete’s death, but I really think you should go, Rafael.” She had reached a point where she was aware of nothing else in the room but his well-muscled masculine body. Her blood seemed to surge and pound with heat and fire. Her entire body was restless and unfamiliar. She didn’t want to know this side of him. Not the kind and gentle side. It was so much easier to resist him if he had a heart of ice.

He had come to her in her dark hour while she was alone and tired and vulnerable. He had offered his help with his melodic voice. His voice alone could soothe the heaviest heart. She didn’t want to like him or the Chevez family. That would mean she would have to be fair and reasonable.

Rafael could sense the weariness in her. Her body was sore and tired, muscles aching. She had been up so early, searching for her lost friend, and the day had dragged on endlessly. She was hanging on by her fingertips, wanting to crumple somewhere safe where no one could see her. He stood up slowly and carefully replaced each piece of tack back in its original place on the wall.

When he turned his head to look at her, Colby stopped breathing. His eyes were black and hungry. Alive with raw need. She stared at him rather helplessly, frozen to the spot like a hypnotized rabbit. Unable to move. She had never seen eyes so alive, so hot and hungry with an intensity that frightened
even as it drew her like a magnet. How had she ever thought him cold? Rafael reached out slowly, shackled her wrist, and drew her slowly, relentlessly to his side.

At once it was there, the electricity, sparking and crackling, sizzling hot. She barely came up to his chest and had to tilt her head as close as she was to him. He merely bent down, his black gaze never leaving her small, pale face as he came closer and closer. She could see his long thick eyelashes, his seductive mouth. Her heart began to pound a rather frantic rhythm, matched the exact same beat as his. His hand slid up her back in a long slow caress. She watched his mouth coming closer to hers.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered softly aloud, even as she moved closer to his beckoning heat. He was fire; she was ice, like the looming mountains surrounding them. Two halves of the same whole. “I can’t do this,” she repeated more for herself than for him. A last attempt at self-preservation. Her body was melting against his, boneless and pliant like so much hot silk when she needed to remain aloof, the ice princess, as some of the cowboys labeled her.

I need to do this.
The words shimmered in her mind, shimmered between them, in his heart and soul, in hers. He needed it more than the air they were breathing, more than the blood that gave him life.
You need to do this.
Rafael’s palm curled around the nape of her neck. His fingers were warm and strong and firm, dragging her inexorably, relentlessly closer to him. He brought her across the last scant inches separating them.
I need this.
Stark, raw truth. She didn’t trust him, the rake, the playboy. Worse, she saw him as the man trying to seduce her to get her brother and sister and the ranch. It hurt, the image she had of him uppermost in her mind, it hurt more than he cared to admit, yet at that moment it didn’t matter to either one of them.

There was a difference between wanting something and desperately needing it. Rafael needed the feel of her silken mouth and her soft, pliant body. He fastened his mouth to hers, a melding of hot velvet and even hotter silk. Whatever it was that was between them seemed far stronger than either of them. A molten heat thickened their blood and set their hearts pounding frantically. The earth seemed to shift beneath their
feet and he gathered her even closer, protectively, possessively against him.

She felt small and fragile to him, yet a living, breathing flame. His every good intention seemed to go right up in a fire raging so hot it seemed to sweep aside his very sanity. His mouth moved over hers, dominating, exploring, whisking them both into a world of raw sexuality. He fed on her sweetness, wanted to devour her, taking her into his own body and locking her in his soul for all time. She had a passionate nature and she gave herself up to the sheer erotic pleasure.

His hands moved over her body possessively, needing to take in every inch of her skin. He swept aside the neckline of her shirt so that his mouth could blaze a trail of fire along her neck, lingering for a moment to swirl his tongue over the temptation of her pulse. His hand moved up her narrow rib cage beneath the thin material to cup her lace-covered breast even while his mouth found the ripe offering.

His mouth was hot and moist right through the lace, his tongue coaxing her nipple to a hard peak, the lace scraping erotically along with his teeth, teasing, driving her wild so that her body was pulsating with a terrible need. She circled his head with her arms, tears close, as the waves of sensation rippled through her. Stark pleasure, hot need, a drenching liquid response she couldn’t prevent. It was shocking to Colby and totally unexpected. And unacceptable. She made a sound like a frightened animal, shocked that in his arms she was no longer a thinking person. He could so easily sweep aside her beliefs. She didn’t even know if she liked him.

“Rafael,” Her voice ached with need. Came out breathless and sexy, not at all as she intended. “Stop.” She managed to get the word out. One word. Her body didn’t want him to stop, she wanted him to go on and on forever, to set aside the warnings of her brain and just take her up into the flames. She had never experienced such total pleasure, had no idea anything or anyone could make her feel like he did.

“You do not want me to stop.” He whispered it, a sinful temptation against her breasts, the warmth of his mouth enticing her.

God help her she didn’t want him to stop, not ever. Colby summoned her strength and pushed at him. “I
need
you to
stop. I can’t do this.” She caught her shirt, pulling it down to cover her full aching breasts. Tears glittered, turning her eyes to a deep emerald. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I’ve never done this. You have to go.” She could never face him again. Never.

“Colby.” He said her name very softly. His voice seemed to start a fire in the pit of her stomach, the flames spreading rapidly. It terrified her. Totally terrified her.

Colby stepped back away from him and turned and ran as if Rafael was the devil himself. She raced across the yard to the safety of her porch. He listened to her speaking to her brother and sister. Rafael stood in the shadows and watched as they went inside. He stood alone in the darkness. Alone. As he had always been alone. Inside that house was color and life, emotions, passion. Inside that house was life. His world. He stood in the dark where demons belonged, uncertain if he could control the darkness gathering inside him, spreading rapidly. She was hurting inside, a raw aching wound, unsure of herself. And he knew he couldn’t leave her that way.

5

R
afael waited until
the house was quiet. He couldn’t tear himself away from Colby. Though hunger beat furiously at him, demanding fulfillment, he refused to heed its call. He would feed later. He could not leave Colby. He found he had less and less control around her. He wanted her, his body raging for release, needing her desperately, needing to complete the ritual to make her wholly his. It was the only way to chain the beast inside of him. It was growing stronger, roaring for release continually. He felt himself close to the edge of madness and knew he was nearly falling over that precipice. He felt it in his every waking moment. And his brother felt it as well. Nicolas monitored him closely, lending him strength when the beast gripped him hard.

One by one the lights shining through the windows went out. He heard the soft murmured words of good night and he felt lonelier and edgier than ever. When he was certain the residents of the house were asleep, he glided across the yard and gained entrance to the house through Colby’s open window.

Nearly insubstantial, Rafael floated across the hardwood floor silently, a dark shadow in the night. Colby was sleeping deeply, her long hair spread out on her pillow, skeins of flaming red-gold silk. One hand was curled into a fist and the other
was flung out as if reaching for something. He bent over her, his hot gaze resting on his mark on her neck. He eased his weight onto the bed, his hands finding her beneath the covers even as he deliberately fed her erotic dreams, wanting to arouse her, prepare her body, for she was an innocent.
Wake, meu a lindo amor, I need you to be with me this night.

Colby stirred immediately, drowsy, lashes fluttering, not quite awake. She looked sexy, a temptress. “Are you here again? I’ve got to stop dreaming about you.”

You cannot help yourself when you know you are mine alone.
The words shimmered in her mind so that the sound of his voice wouldn’t disturb her further. She shook her head, a faint smile greeting him. She looked so beautiful he bent to kiss her. Colby’s skin was incredibly soft and he couldn’t resist touching her. Rafael stretched out beside her, slowly, lazily, an unhurried movement. He had all night with her. At once he felt the hidden power of the comforter covering her. His fingers found the symbols and he traced them carefully. They were safeguards, Carpathian safeguards woven into the patterns on the quilt. Where had she acquired such a thing? It was a work of art, rare and precious like the woman it guarded.

Rafael turned on his side, studying Colby. He needed to spend every moment in her company while he could. She was a ray of light in his dark world, sunshine and laughter. He had long ago forgotten even his memories of such things, yet now he clung to the light in her. He didn’t know if he had ever felt gentle or tender toward another, yet he felt something close to those things each time he looked at her.

She murmured his name softly, her breath warm against his neck. Rafael’s body hardened and thickened even more, until he groaned softly, a protest against the urgent demand he couldn’t quite control. He dragged her into his arms and lowered his head to the pillow close to hers. Only her thin pajamas separated him from her soft skin and the haven of her body.
I want you, querida. I want you almost as much as I need you.
He was aching for her, the words that would bind them together for all eternity in his head, on his tongue, so that he tasted them with every breath he drew.

A smile curved her soft mouth, an invitation. Her body moved restlessly against his. He needed her. There was nothing
else in his life. He needed her. With an oath, he wrapped his arms tighter and nuzzled the thin material covering her body up out of his way to expose her breasts to the cool night air. To his hot, burning gaze. She was so beautiful and so vulnerable.

I need to touch you, meu lindo amor, just for a few minutes, allow me to touch you.
His voice ached with his need. Ached with his hunger. A velvet soft seduction.

Her eyes opened, emerald green, slumberous, sensual, meeting his black hungry gaze with her own dark passion. Without a word, she turned in to him, slipped her arms around him, her body pliant with surrender.

Colby had no real idea if she was awake or asleep, in the middle of an erotic dream or fantasy, but she couldn’t turn away from the desperation burning in those eyes. In her dreams, she could have anyone she wanted, do anything she wanted, she wasn’t bound by her responsibilities. She wanted him. Wanted the feel of his skin next to her skin. Wanted his mouth on hers, his hands on her. She had wanted him almost from the first moment she had seen him and in her dreams, she didn’t have to be afraid that he would control her.

Rafael’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her lying beside him, her top pushed up exposing her perfectly formed breasts. His hand looked dark against her white skin, his palm on her bare midriff, his fingers splayed wide. She looked delicate, almost fragile, while in contrast his bones and muscles were so much larger. Yet in her own way, Colby was tremendously strong.

The ritual binding words imprinted in him long before his birth, burned in his mind while his body was on fire, painful and uncomfortable. In the room across the hall, the little girl stirred. His hand closed over Colby’s breast possessively. His mind sought Ginny’s. She was opening her window stealthily, sticking her head out to whistle for the dog. Ginny had nightmares of her parents’ deaths, of something happening to Colby. Rafael heard the dog enter the room and immediately sent it a command so that it would stay on the child’s bed, giving her comfort, but would not detect his presence in the home. Nothing could stop this. Nothing. His mind and body were clamoring for Colby and he knew he couldn’t stop. He
shielded both Paul and Ginny from waking, sending them into a deep sleep.

He bent his head to the warmth of Colby’s skin, his tongue swirling over her breast, indulging his ravenous hunger for her. He felt her response, the way her body tightened and clenched, the way her blood heated and pooled. His hands moved over her slowly, inch by slow inch, pushing her clothing aside so that he had access to her body. He wanted to know every inch of her, wanted to touch her, taste her, inhale her. His mouth was hot and needy as he lowered his head to take possession of her breast. He suckled there, his hand sliding along her ribs, across her flat stomach to linger for a few moments, brushing his fingers over her skin, tracing the faint outline of a birthmark there. It was intriguing enough to warrant a quick foray with his tongue, before he returned to her breast while his hand drifted lower to find the tight thatch of curls at the junction of her legs. She was moist and hot as he pushed his palm against her. At once her hips arced against him in response.

Colby had dreams of her dark lover, arousing her body, his hands exploring every inch of her, his mouth hot and needy, suckling at her breasts, stroking and caressing until she wanted to beg him for release. His mouth was everywhere, kissing and caressing, knowing her body even more intimately than she knew it. She burned for him, needed him, needed his body buried deep inside hers. She opened her eyes again to look at him. Real. Solid. He was naked, his body strong, his muscles rippling with power. His long black hair swept across her aching sensitive breasts, as his tongue swirled around her belly button. She caught at him with both hands.