Immortal Trust (25 page)

He gestured at the bed before he moved to the bathroom door. “Sleep. I am in need of a shower.”

The door thumped shut before she could utter a word of explanation. Groaning, Chloe flopped onto the pillows and tossed an elbow over her eyes. Great. Evidently abstinence had eroded her brain more than she’d realized. Only a fool would admit the truth she had. Who confessed that kind of honesty to a man?

*   *   *

Lucan braced his hands on the sink and leaned over the basin, willing his body to forget the idea of pleasure. His shoulders shook with the effort. His chest refused to expand. Convince herself? He would cut his own throat before he took her without her full and willing participation.

Convince herself.
He smacked an open palm against the marble and shoved away from the sink. Why did she feel she could not just tell him she desired to rest her head on his pillow? He would have welcomed her company. Would not have uttered a single protest, and would have understood the unspoken message she did not desire intimacy.

Saints’ toes, who had taught her she must hide behind false pretenses?

A tremor ran through his hands as a fresh burst of anger replaced the annoyance in his blood. Whoever had instilled that lesson, he would enjoy every minute of choking the life out of his lecherous body. When Chloe allowed Lucan to glimpse it, her spirit was much too precious to be stifled. Even her stubbornness, her fierce temper, he enjoyed. She should not have to chain herself so.

As the blood ebbed from his loins, he breathed more deeply and considered the larger concern that surfaced. She was willing to compromise herself to avoid her room. Did she fear another break-in? Did she, mayhap,
expect
the demon to return for the relic, and in so doing, once again find her without?

He eyed the back of the door, envisioning the woman who lay beyond. Now that his thoughts had retreated from the promise of ecstasy, he sensed the dark presence around him. Caught the faint stench of decay in his nose. They followed her here. Coincidence? Or mayhap strategy?

Was tonight a means of distracting him so she could free the Veronica for Azazel?

A chill rolled through him. Surely she could not be capable of such. She had no means of knowing he had planned dinner. She could not possibly stage the priceless moments where she had been an equal participant in the desire that they unleashed.

Nay. Chloe had not come to his room with the intent of deceit. He would not allow the darkness in his soul to convince him otherwise.

He turned the door handle and entered the sleeping quarters. Dressed only in her panties and her bra, Chloe lay atop the covers, curled into a tight ball. His heart turned over at the sight of her, and he closed his eyes against an unwelcome surge of feeling. When he had come to care for her, he could not say. But in that moment, as he observed the soft rise and fall of her shoulder and the protective way she sought to shield herself, he realized she had crept beneath his awareness and weaseled into the portion of his heart he sought to keep from her until he knew her purpose.

Aye, he cared for her more than he ought. And yet he found he did not so much mind the uncomfortable tightening of his chest or the stirring of his cock. ’Twas strangely pleasing to accept she held power over him. To acknowledge that when he took his oath, ’twould be more than words of loyalty and duty he uttered. He would mean every solemn word that bound them together eternally.

He bent over the table and extinguished the candles. Darkness descended, thick and opaque. For several long seconds he stood in the middle of the room, watching her shadowy form, debating whether he should wake her and offer the sleeping gown that lay on the couch.

Nay, he decided with a slow shake of his head. He would not rouse her. She would construe his meaning as he desired her to cover herself, when in truth he longed to peel off what remained of her clothes and indulge in the silken nature of her skin.

Soon enough, they would reach that precipice. But he would push her no further. The next time they came together, be it for a kiss or for the final consummation of desire, ’twould be at her prompting. Under her assurance she wanted to open her body to the will of his. Mayhap even her heart.

A noise from the window brought him out of his thoughts. He cocked his head, listening to the scratching on the glass. From the bed, a rustling stirred as Chloe burrowed deeper into the mattress. An almost inaudible whimper floated to his ears.

Fear. Even in sleep, she feared the presence.

His heart gave a pained little twist.

Frowning, he crossed to the safe and checked that he had locked the Veronica inside. Then he collected his sword from the corner behind the door and returned to the side of the bed nearest the window. He laid his holy blade on the floor beside the bed and eased atop the quilts. As he rolled onto his side to study Chloe’s delicate face, he blinked on finding her eyes open.

“You are not asleep?”

“No,” she whispered as she glanced at the window. “The wind…”

Not wind, and he recognized the lie for what it was. Yet he did not press for answers. In time she would come to freely speak the truth. He would wait until she was ready.

Extending his arm, he bade her welcome into his embrace. As if relieved by the prospect, she snuggled close. Lucan reached around her to tug the covers loose. “Lift,” he instructed quietly.

She obeyed by raising her hips so he could pull the quilt from beneath her body. In one swift arc, he covered her, then shifted to better accommodate the nearness of her body. Chloe settled a warm palm against his chest and let out a contented sigh. “I feel safe here,” she confessed.

He pulled his fingers through her long hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Aye, you are. Always, my sweet,” he murmured.
I would give my soul for yours.

“Lucan?”

“Hm.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Shh,” he urged as he ran his palm down the length of her arm. “’Tis naught to discuss.” Picking up her fingers, he laced his through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Know you are welcome here. You need only make your wishes known.”

Her nails scraped pleasantly across his chest. “That seems selfish when I know you’d like more.”

Lucan released her hand and splayed his fingers over the curve of her hip. “In time you will want the same.”

A shiver gripped her. It vibrated into him, and he sucked in a sharp breath, unprepared for his honesty to have such a physical effect.

She feathered a light kiss over his shoulder. “Sometimes I already do.”

“Sleep,” he instructed through a closing throat. “Your words are a greater torment than the nearness of your body.”

“Kiss me, Lucan?”

Her whisper came so softly he doubted he heard her correctly. But when she tipped her chin up, and her wide eyes filled with apprehension, he knew his mind did not play tricks. The fist around his heart clamped like a vise, and he debated the logic in obeying her request. He did not trust himself to not fall victim to the spell her sweet flavor wove. And yet he could not stomach the thought of denying her, of taking her back to the humiliation he had caused her the night before.

Her fingertips drifted across his lips. Skated across his cheek. “Please.”

His will crumpled under her quiet plea. Groaning, he dragged her close and settled his mouth on hers. The tip of her tongue darted out to slide against his, filling him with her heady flavor. Wine still lingered on her mouth, more intoxicating than the fruity fermentation in the glass. He became intoxicated by the velvety brush and stroke and the warm caress of her breath against his cheek.

In his arms, she wriggled closer. Her breasts stabbed into his bare chest, her thigh slipped between his. And though her nearness held innocence, his body thrummed with awareness. ’Twould be so easy to use this moment to his advantage. To slide his hand beneath the insignificant strap at her hips and slip his fingertip between her womanly folds. Relaxed and unassuming, trusting he would take this joining of their lips no further, she would never anticipate his intimate caress until he had already coaxed her into willingness. From there, he could roll her onto her back and ease himself inside her waiting warmth before protest could rise in her mind.

Aye…’Twould be so easy …

As his cock filled with the prospect of imminent fulfillment, Lucan choked down another groan and tore his mouth from hers. In the quiet, their breaths rasped in harmony. The fall of her fingertips against his chest tortured worse than any hot pokers the Inquisition had once applied to his feet. His body strained with arousal. His heart beat so fiercely he feared ’twould bruise his ribs.

He loosened his embrace, desperate for a bit of distance. “I am not the saint you seem to think I am, Chloe.”

“No,” she murmured against his chest. “I know you aren’t. You’re a man.” She trailed a fingertip down the center of his chest to his abdomen, then slowly retraced the path before settling her hand over his heart. “All man.” More quietly, she whispered, “And I like you.”

“Chloe,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I am warning you, cease. Else I will forget I desire something more than a mindless fuck. Which I could have twice-now had.”

As he desired, she jumped at his harsh language and tucked her hand safely beneath her cheek. “Good night, Lucan.”

He breathed a bit easier, but the roaring in his head left him silently swearing at the ceiling. God’s teeth, if Picardie did not break down the last of her walls, she would break him into bits.

CHAPTER 23

Lucan’s warrior’s instinct demanded he open his eyes. He lay still, surveying his surroundings with naught more than the movement of his eyes. Thick and foreboding, the unmistakable presence of Azazel hung in the air. It lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. The same tightness that infused his body each time he lifted his sword against the creatures of darkness crept into his muscles.

In the corner of his vision, he observed Chloe lay on her back, clutching the small red satchel she had brought from her room. Eyes wide, she stared at the ceiling. Her chest rose with shallow breaths, testament to her fear.

The stillness set off great horns of warning in his head. Something lurked. Watched. Waited to strike.

He inched his hand from beneath the covers, dropped it over the edge of the bed, and closed his fingers around cold, hard steel. Barely breathing, he lifted his sword atop his chest.

The door shuddered beneath a thunderous blow. As if some terrific beast held fast to the handle, it banged and clattered on the hinges.

Lucan bolted from the bed. He drew his sword before his feet hit the floor. He charged around the foot of the bed, one hand out instructing Chloe to stay put. But as he opened his mouth to issue the order, she jumped to her feet and raced toward the deafening racket.

An icy blade of fear pierced his chest. “Chloe, stand back!”’Twas not her fight. Whatever lay beyond that door would shred her to pieces. “Chloe!” He barked more loudly. God’s teeth, he could not allow her to risk her life. Charging forward, he grabbed her elbow and hauled her away.

Tiny slivers of wood splintered off the door and peppered the floor.

Chloe twisted free with a fierce jerk of her head. “Let go!” She evaded his seeking fingers and rushed to the shivering slab of timber.

Anger took fear’s place in Lucan’s heart. He ground his teeth together and stalked after her. He had one hand on her shoulder and was seconds away from jerking her behind him when she dropped to her knees.

“For the love of the saints, Chloe, get back before you are harmed!”

When she refused to budge, he did the only thing he could think of. He placed himself between her and the door and lifted his sword, prepared to defend her should the barrier yield.

Behind him, a flame flickered in the dark. He glanced over his shoulder to find her with two sticks of incense in her hands and a lighter applied to the tips. “Damnation, Chloe, ’tis no time for perfumes. Get away.”

She glanced up, perturbed. “Stop distracting me.” A shaking hand fanned the smoke toward his legs. Beyond to the door. To Lucan’s immense frustration, she stood and took a step closer to the shivering wood.

As if whatever lay beyond sensed her nearness, the quaking intensified. On the nearby desk, the glass lampshade rattled on its brass supports. Lucan cast a wary glance at the doorknob. It held, but barely, each blow loosening the steel in its casing. He tightened his hold on his sword, lifted it a notch higher.

Chloe joined him at his side and held the incense toward the weakening barrier. In a strong voice that defied the wide whites of her eyes, she called, “In the name of the Almighty, I banish you from this place. Go now, you cannot bring me harm. Mighty Gabriel, hear these words, protect me with your sacred might.” The words tumbled off her lips, fast and furious.

Beyond, a ghostly howl echoed.

Silence descended on them. The door stood motionless, as if it had never been touched. Lucan took a step backward, not trusting the stillness. When nothing happened, he slowly lowered his blade. For several heavy thumps of his heart, he stared at the wood, anticipating a renewed attack.

It did not come. Would not, he began to realize as he turned to witness Chloe closing up her satchel. The incense burned in a glass near the door, and Lucan hit the light switch.

Rage and fear warred for dominance over his confusion. She had foolishly risked her safety. Had her stunt failed, only the Almighty knew what fate she might have suffered. If Lucan would have conquered the beast, or if in attacking it, his soul would absorb the last bit of darkness to transform him into an equally horrific creature intent on sacrificing her to the unholy master’s plan.

With an outward calm that disguised the trembling of his innards, he laid his sword on the back of the couch and lifted his gaze to Chloe’s.

’Twas then he noticed she too attempted to disguise her emotions with a false hesitant smile. Her face paled to the color of death. Her wide eyes watered with unshed tears. Torn between offering her comfort and scolding her within an inch of her life, he tempered both urges with a deep, controlled breath.