Immortal Trust (33 page)

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Authors: Claire Ashgrove

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: Immortal Trust
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Frowning, Lucan stood. ’Twas beyond time to broach the conversation of what she was and share the knowledge Master Reginald imparted. “’Tis not the spell, Chloe, but your belief in it. When your conviction falters, then aye, ’twill seem worthless to you.” He stood at her side and reached for her hand. “The cure for this curse, as you call it, is within you.”

She turned wide, disbelieving eyes up to him. “Within me? I don’t understand.”

“Come. Allow me to show you.” He tugged on her hand, bringing her to her feet. But when he headed for the window, she sank her weight into her heels and resisted.

“No. I don’t want to look out the window.”

“Trust me, Chloe.” Giving her no further opportunity to protest, Lucan tugged harder and positioned her in front of the curtains. He pinned her in place with his body, wrapped one arm around her waist, and reached for the pull string.

Chloe twisted against his imprisoning hold. Her nails dug into his arm. “Lucan, please. Don’t.”

“Shh. I am right here.” He jerked on the string, throwing the curtains wide.

*   *   *

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut tight. Nothing on earth could make her look. Not curiosity. Not Lucan’s reassuring words. Not even the hand of God. She refused to witness the creatures that haunted her dreams.

“Chloe,” he coaxed near her ear.

She ducked her head to escape the warm caress of his breath. “No.”

“Look, my sweet. ’Tis naught there. Just the gardens and the trees beyond.”

She refused with a violent shake of her head. He couldn’t be telling the truth. She’d just heard the thing. If she looked now, she’d stare straight into a grotesque face. “It just tapped on the window.”

His fingers smoothed her hair. “’Tis not present. I would not lie to you.” Warm lips touched the side of her face. Coaxing. Promising.

Begging her to believe in him.

She cracked open one eye and peeked through lowered lashes. Clear glass panes revealed a starry sky, not ghoulish faces or deadly claws. The breath she hadn’t realized she was holding rushed out. Encouraged, she opened her other eye and straightened. Lucan’s comforting nearness engulfed her in a heartbeat. His hard chest pillowed her back. Strong arms held her close. Sheltered. She indulged in the moment and rested her head on his shoulder as she stared out at a full, silver moon.

He leaned his head against hers. “You must learn to trust me, my sweet.”

“I do. Well, most of the time.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Look to the trees. Tell me what you see.”

Swallowing hard, Chloe dismissed the fear his suggestion provoked and dropped her gaze from the heavens to the thick forest. Shadows loomed thick and large. The tall pines formed a dense barrier she couldn’t see more than two or three feet into. She shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Look closer. Tell me when you can see eyes.”

Eyes? Oh, heaven above, she didn’t want to do this. If she had nightmares for the rest of her life, she’d never forgive Lucan. At the same time, she couldn’t refuse. If what he said were true, if she somehow possessed an ability to ward off the creatures, she’d suffer whatever terror waited in the trees. She squinted at the distant, snow-tipped boughs, searched for a glimmer of light among the dark.

When two yellow-green specks appeared beneath the heavy canopy, she drew back with a gasp.

Lucan tightened his embrace, holding her more securely. “Ah, you see them, aye?”

“Yes. I think so. Yellow-green.” She blinked rapidly, unable to believe the transformation within the trees. Where one pair of greenish lights glowed seconds earlier, now she saw three, and an eerier set of red-orange. A chill wafted down her spine. “Damn.”

As if he had felt the tremor roll through her, Lucan rubbed her arms, restoring warmth to her frigid skin. “Remember what I said. You have the ability to ward them away.”

“But how?”

He dipped his chin to her shoulder and tucked his arms around her waist once more. “They have seen you now. Let them approach. When they draw too close for your comfort, do not give in to fear.”

“That’s easy enough to say.”

“Nay, you can do this, Chloe. Do not awaken the fear. Imagine, if you will, you can throw daggers with a stare. Will the injury upon them.”

What he claimed sounded fantastic. But in his words, Chloe recognized the truth behind her protection spell. As the spiritual leaders she’d consulted had advised, faith brought the vastest power. If one did not believe in the words spoken, no ward would keep the demons away.

As she had taught herself to do years earlier, Chloe released her doubts and embraced the possibility. She watched the eyes drift closer and clump together as they gathered at the forest’s edge. Shadows emerged from the trees, near enough she could recognize the varying shades of color, but distant enough she couldn’t make out true forms.

Close enough, for this first night of new approaches.

Drawing in a deep breath, she focused on the solitary pair of red-orange orbs and did as Lucan requested. Instead of daggers, however, she imagined invisible laser beams coursing across the manicured gardens and searing a hole right between the glowing portals. She almost giggled as a mental picture of Cyclops took hold.

Across the way, the reddish eyes drifted behind the others.

Chloe leaned forward, unable to believe what she’d witnessed. Surely she was seeing things. This was too easy.

“Do you believe me now?” Lucan asked, a touch of arrogance in his voice.

Unconvinced the retreat wasn’t just a product of circumstance, Chloe tried again, this time on a pair of yellow-greens that led the pack of approaching eerie lights. Only, when she focused on her target, she skipped the imagery and merely willed the creature to fall over dead.

It didn’t. But it did scurry back into the trees.

Chloe turned in Lucan’s arms and looked up at him in wonder. “How is that possible?”

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He raised a hand to tuck a straying lock of hair behind her ear. “’Tis good to know you need not rely on props and prayers, aye?”

Good? He couldn’t comprehend how liberated she felt. Eight years of searching, and this man, this stranger who had weaseled himself into her life against her will, handed her the cure on a silver platter. Priests couldn’t. Rabbis couldn’t. No religious leader she’d consulted had been able to release the curse. But Lucan had.

And in this moment, she felt more in control of her life than she had in a very long time.

She looped her arms around his neck and twisted fully around to face him. With a half step closer, she pressed her breasts against his chest. She eased to her toes, and beneath the fabric of her nightgown, her nipples pebbled as they scraped over his body. Her mouth a fraction away from his, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Lucan’s eyes clashed with hers, dark as storm clouds. She knew the look well. She’d witnessed it both nights she’d spent in this room. Desire. Raw need. For her.

Excitement thrummed all the way down to her toes. She took another shuffle-step closer and melded her hips against his at the same time she captured his mouth. He was there in an instant, greedily taking all she offered. His hands tightened at her waist, his fingertips biting in, pleasantly harsh.

Heavenly. The stroke of his tongue, the stinging nip of his teeth—everything combined into a blissful delight that pushed her to the edge of abandon. Her fingers curled into his shoulders to stop the sudden weakening of her knees, and Chloe held on, afraid if she let go she’d fall. Terrified if she continued, she’d drown in everything Lucan seemed so willing to give.

And yet nothing would steer her off this course. No fear, no relics, no cross-purposes. She wanted Lucan Seacourt, and she wouldn’t let the ghosts of her past spoil the insurmountable feeling he stirred in her veins.

Caught up in the heat that coursed through her body, she slid her hands to his waist and pushed them beneath the loose hem of his cotton shirt. Her fingertips found warm taut skin that rippled beneath her inquisitive caress. Taking a step backward, she gave herself room to explore. The hard ridges of his abdomen gave way to an even harder chest. She flattened her palms over his nipples, skimmed her hands higher to splay her fingers over wide shoulders.

Lucan groaned softly, a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than approval. He closed his hands into the flimsy fabric of her gown, bunching it into his fists. But although his mouth bore fierce demand, the tenseness of his body spoke of restraint. His refusal to do away with her nightgown reinforced that suspicion.

When he abruptly terminated the kiss and distanced himself a good foot, Chloe wasn’t surprised. She caught hold of his shirt and followed his retreat.

Lucan glanced at the bed, as if he could not bring himself to look at her. “’Tis late—”

He had retreated far enough the backs of his knees confronted the coffee table. Chloe took full advantage of his thwarted escape. A slow smile spread across her face as she dipped one finger into the waistband of his jeans. “There are several hours left until morning.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

His gaze snapped to hers. His eyes glittered like live coals. One thumb absently brushed against her ribs. In his unblinking stare, she read the question he wouldn’t ask.
Are you certain?

She’d never been more sure. Lucan gave her strength. Offered her trust and demanded hers in return. He had crept into her heart. Coerced her into caring. Only one thing remained to distance them. Tonight, they would cross all those boundaries, and she would let him sink his teeth into her heart.

No. More. Fear.

She pressed the flat of her hand against the hard bulge of his jeans. His gaze flared white-hot as his breath caught audibly. With all the boldness she could summon, Chloe held his gaze and whispered, “I want to feel you within me.”

Lucan exhaled, a combination of rushing air and a drawn-out groan. He caught her to him, crushed her against his body. His mouth claimed hers with savage hunger, pummeling through to shatter any trace of resistance she might have experienced.

Sharing his urgency, she pulled at his shirt. Urged him to give her the distance and freedom to drag it over his head. Instead, he reached behind his neck, and as if he lacked the patience of unclothing, doffed it in one quick yank.

Her nightgown followed in the shirt’s wake. One impatient brush of his hands against her shoulders pushed the thin straps to her elbows where all she had to do was wriggle and the garment pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of it, moving back into the heavenly circle of his arms. As she pushed her hands up the broad expanse of muscle that was his chest, she brought her body into his and slid upward along the same trajectory as her hands, delighting in the electric shock of skin to skin.

He dominated her. Thick thighs enveloped hers. Strong arms bent her slightly backward so his teeth could graze her throat. He dipped her further, brought his mouth closer to her breast. A tremble shook her body as warm, moist air danced across her skin. And then his lips closed around her hardened nipple, and Chloe tottered in his embrace.

Sensing her inability to stand on her own two feet, Lucan urged her to her knees. Then backward further until the soft fibers of the rug met her skin. His kisses branded her flesh. Pulsed heat through her veins and tightened her womb. The satiny tickle of his hair as he leaned over her to suckle at her opposite breast teased. She speared her fingers through his hair, pressed his head close, and arched her back against the tug of his mouth. “Lucan,” she murmured on a shaky exhale.

A calloused hand scraped pleasantly down her ribs. Across her abdomen. Lower still to part the swollen folds of her feminine flesh. His thumb swirled across the sensitive nub there, and ecstasy shot through Chloe. She parted her thighs at the stroke of his fingers. Each caress matched the gentle tug of his mouth. Each stroke coaxed something deep within her closer to the surface. She writhed beneath him, lifted her hips into his palm. Her skin pebbled with goose bumps. Her breath came in short, hard gasps.

So close. So damnably close. She lifted up again, rubbed in countermotion to his hand. On the precipice of ecstasy, her womb contracted hard. Another press of his thumb, another languorous stroke, and she’d find relief from the unrelenting ache.

“Lucan, please…” She dug her nails into the rug, aware she begged, but unashamed. She had come to understand so much about him, even though she’d tried to keep him at a distance, and she knew he would relish the raw honesty of her spoken need. It seemed he wanted nothing but that from her. Nothing but the complete, unhindered truth. The kind of truth that only came with the trust he unrelentingly demanded.

He lifted his head, her nipple slipping from the wet heat of his mouth. In the dim light of the television, flecks of onyx glowed within his silvery gaze. Beautiful, fathomless eyes. She could get lost in them. Had already.

His lashes fluttered, threatening to close as he pushed one thick finger into her slickened opening. She closed hers before she could discover whether he did the same and arched off the rug. He pushed deep inside her, the friction setting of a percussion of pleasure like a match set to a chain of firecrackers. One by one, the nerve endings in her body ignited, each little snap building to an intensity that pounded through her. She twisted her head to the side, clamped her thighs together. To stop him. To encourage him.

Oh God.

The next slow push of his hand brought combustion. Release burst through her in a maelstrom of feeling. Tiny starbursts of light erupted behind her eyes. Weightlessness infused her limbs. For a moment, she felt as if she floated. In the next, she tumbled slowly off the high ledge she had so feared, and found herself sheltered in his protective embrace. His body blanketed hers, bringing her tenderly back to earth. His strong arms held her tightly.

“Chloe,” he murmured as he cupped her face between his hands. The stroke of his thumbs demanded she open her eyes to look at him. When she did, his expression radiated tenderness moments before his lashes lowered and he gently took her mouth with his.

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