Love Knows No Bounds (18 page)

“Eleni…”

Chapter Five

Day Three

Why the hell had he said that he wouldn’t touch her?

His cock ached. His balls ached. He was in a constant state of arousal. He was surprised she hadn’t noticed—or would have been if she ever lifted her nose out of that laptop. She was driving him crazy. He needed to get out, stretch his wings, try and ease the restlessness that plagued him.

Normally, he would have taken to the skies, gone hunting. There were always a few minor demons who’d escaped the confines of the Abyss and needed rounding up, sending back, or a drug dealer who needed to be taken down, a petty dictator to be overthrown.

But he couldn’t do any of those things. Not with Phoebe at his side, and he wasn’t leaving her, however insane she was making him. Still, he needed to get rid of some of this energy or he would explode.

They’d been in meetings all day. And as promised, he hadn’t touched her. But he wanted to.

Actually, he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than touch her. He wanted to sink into her, lose himself in her, taste her. His gums ached at the thought, and he pushed it down. That wasn’t helping.

They had an hour to kill before his last meeting of the day.

He glanced across the room. Phoebe sat at his desk, typing away on that damned laptop. What was she writing anyway? He edged closer and peered over her shoulder.

She slammed the lid and swiveled her chair to face him. “What’s wrong with you? You’re wandering around like a caged tiger. Relax.”

Was she insane?

He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension, and her eyes followed the movement. She wasn’t as immune as she made out. His spirits lifted a little.

“It’s still business hours, and we have one more meeting in…” He glanced at his watch. “…fifty-five minutes.”

“We do?” She sounded as tired as he felt.

He nodded. “Minister of Defense.”

“Well you can’t just hover over me for the next hour. Go to the gym or something. I noticed you have one in the basement.”

The gym? He’d never been there before, and he had no intention of going now. “No.”

She scowled. “Well, go outside. Get some fresh air.”

Maybe that would help rid him of some of his pent up energy. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t think so.” She nodded at her laptop. “I have work to do.”

He considered her for a moment, trying to think what bribe would work best.

“Come with me, and I’ll tell you how the company started. Give you some background stuff for your story,” he said. When she hesitated, he continued. “All the gory details.”

She pursed her lips. “How gory?”

“Very.”

She stood up and picked up her bag from the chair, slung it over her shoulder. He’d noticed she never went anywhere without that bag.

“Just give me a minute,” he said and disappeared through the door in the rear of the office that led into his private quarters. He grabbed a leather jacket and hurried back. She was standing exactly where he had left her, in that sexy little black suit and the high heels. “Here, put this on.” He handed her the jacket.

She glanced down at herself and frowned. “Why?”

“Because it’s cold outside.”

…

Phoebe gave in to the inevitable and followed him out the door. Actually, it would be good to get some fresh air. Some very cold fresh air.

She’d been trying to kid herself that she didn’t want him.

It was a lie.

Her whole body burned with need. Every move, every tiny shift reminded her of that. She was conscious of her breasts the whole time, the lacy material of her bra rubbing the sensitive nipples with each movement. Every step she took reminded her she was hot and wet. Maybe she should excuse herself, go somewhere private, and get a little temporary relief. But she knew that would only increase the need.

Cade led her into the elevator, but instead of pressing the button to take them to the ground floor, they headed upward. He leaned against the wall, arms folded. Watching her. He was always watching her—no wonder she was on edge.

“Hey, I thought we were going outside.”

“We are.”

She opened her mouth to argue, just as the elevator came to a halt. The doors slid apart, and she stared.

They were outside. A few flakes of snow drifted lethargically down. They must be on the roof, but the whole area had been turned into some sort of garden. It lay under a blanket of pristine white, but she could see the forms of trees and shrubs, like a winter wonderland. She stepped out and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the soft biting caress of the snow. After a minute, she opened her eyes, hugging Cade’s jacket around her.

Cade came up behind her, just as the sky was lit with a flash of crimson lightning. She wandered off, careful in her high heels, and explored the place. It was fantastic. A wooden pergola was situated at the edge, so you could look out over the city. Sinking down onto the bench, out of the snow, she gazed around her in wonder.

“I’d love to see this place in the spring,” she said.

“You can,” Cade replied. He sat on the bench beside her, hands in his pockets. “Just stick around.”

She glanced at him sharply, but his face remained expressionless. Why did she have the impression that beneath that bland demeanor was a seething mass off red-hot emotions?

“Or maybe I could come back in May.” She kept her own expression equally blank. “Okay, so these gory details…”

Her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and glanced at the caller ID. It was her sister. For a moment, her finger hovered over the off button but then she looked across at Cade and decided she could do with a little distraction.

“Dad’s asking for you,” Susie said.

Shit.
She still hadn’t gotten back to her father. “I’ll get over there in a couple of days.”

“He’d really like to see you now, Phoebe. He’s worried about you, after that thing in Afghanistan. And you haven’t visited in ages.”

Phoebe bit her lip. Susie had the ability to make her feel incredibly guilty. She forced the guilt down. She doubted her father really wanted to see her anyway. She’d never gotten along with him like the others did. She glanced again at Cade; he was watching her closely.

“Look, Susie,” she said. “I’m in the middle of something. I’ll be free in two days, and I’ll visit Dad then—I promise.”

Her sister remained silent, and Phoebe bit her lip again. “I’ve got to go.” She ended the call and then switched the phone to voicemail and slipped it back in her bag. She could sense Cade watching her and almost squirmed under the intense scrutiny.

“Yes?” she snapped.

“Tell me,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

“About your family. Why don’t you want to visit your father?”

How did he always seem to understand exactly what was going on in her head? She looked away, out into the night. The snow was falling faster now, cocooning them in a small private world.

She took a deep breath. “My sisters are both married now with kids. We don’t have a lot in common.” She paused, wondering if she was crazy to open up like this, then shrugged. “I was always the misfit of the
family.”

“Go on,” Cade urged.

“Dad was a security guard. Before that he’d been in the army, a sergeant in the SAS, but he’d given that up when my mom walked out on us.” She’d always blamed herself for that as well; she’d been the youngest and a difficult child—too many problems and hang-ups for her feeble mother to cope with. “He gave up everything, and he hated that job, but it was all he could get. Then he was shot during an armed robbery. Somehow, the company wriggled out of paying any compensation. He was in hospital for months, and we were put in foster care. Eventually he came home but he never recovered. Not really. And he never worked again. My sisters left school as soon as they could, got jobs to help out…they were wonderful.” She lifted a shoulder in a helpless gesture. “I’ve always felt that I disappointed him.”

But she knew that wasn’t the real problem. The truth was, she’d never allowed herself to really love her family. Her fear had kept the emotion locked inside her. The dream had come to her when she was very young, and it had taught her a hard lesson. Not to risk loving anyone or they’d be taken from her, and she would never recover a second time. She’d told herself that it was just a dream, but still her emotions had remained shut away.

She’d been the same later with her few pathetic attempts at relationships. They had never lasted, but at least they had been easier to walk away from. Her family wouldn’t allow her to walk away. They let her go so far and then pulled her back with that invisible chord that she somehow couldn’t sever completely.

She’d come to see that her investigative work—taking on the big organizations like the one that had ruined her father’s life—was her way of apologizing to him. She couldn’t tell him she loved him, but she could show him she cared by exposing the rot, striking a blow for the ordinary men and women like her father who were cast aside when they were of no more use. Now, she was failing in even that.

“I’ll take you.” Cade broke into her thoughts.

“What?”

“I’ll take you to visit your father.” He got to his feet, clearly impatient. “Come on, we’ll go right now.”

She sat there, staring up at him. “You have a meeting, remember? An important meeting.”

“Screw them. You’re more important.”

“It’s the Minister of Defense.”

“Definitely more important.”

“Why?” Her brows furrowed. “I don’t understand why you should want to take me anywhere.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand anything.”

“I just think you should see your family. Maybe it’s something important and later you’ll be sorry.”

“You can’t know that.” She thought about going over there, facing them. But her emotions were too raw. She felt naked, unable to hide. “I can’t, not now. I need to build myself up to it.” Make sure her defenses were securely in place.

He scrutinized her as though he could see inside her mind. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, but promise you’ll go see him soon.”

She nodded slowly, still confused as to why he should care, but unable to ignore the warm glow inside her that he did.

She stood up. “Let’s go to that meeting.”

Chapter Six

Day Four

Phoebe hunched over her laptop and tried to ignore Cade as he wandered, seemingly without purpose, around the room. Today he was wearing black pants and a dark blue shirt that matched his eyes. The shirt clung to his broad shoulders and the lean lines of his chest and belly. She couldn’t stop herself from lingering over the sight, and as she watched, he slowly pulled his tie loose and tossed it on his desk, before unfastening the top button of his shirt to reveal the pale hollow of his throat. His hand hovered for a moment on the next button, and Phoebe had the appalling notion that he was actually doing a striptease for her, followed by the even worse idea that he was entirely aware of the effect it was having on her unruly equilibrium.

Grrr.

She forced her hungry gaze away and stabbed her fingers onto the keys, not caring that the words that came out were gibberish. She had no story anyway. Three days of this torture, and she had nothing to show for it. Either Stormlord Securities was clean, or Caden Wolfe was way too clever for her and had covered his tracks. She suspected a bit of both, but over the past few days, she’d watched him closely and had come to respect the way he worked. And she hoped, deep inside, that she wouldn’t find her story. She wanted him to be good and that scared her—her job had always come first.

She should give up, pack up, and head home. There was nothing for her here.

Except Cade.

He was driving her crazy. Oh, he had kept his word. He hadn’t touched her. But he was teasing her, tormenting her. He was always taking off bits of clothing—well his jacket and tie anyway—and unbuttoning buttons. He would come and to sit beside her, or prop himself on the edge of her desk, his long, lean thigh within touching distance, or lurk behind her while she was typing.

Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was doing. She could see it in his eyes, taunting her with the knowledge that all she had to do was ask.

So many times the words had hovered on the edge of her tongue, and she was getting tired of fighting it.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she was unaware of him standing directly behind her until his warm masculine scent teased her nostrils. He leaned over her shoulder, his hands on the desk, his arms braced on either side of her, not quite touching, but close enough so if she tilted her head, she would touch him.

“Phoebe.” His voice, low and husky, caressed her ears, his breath feathering against the sensitive skin at the back of her neck, sending tiny quivers rippling down her spine.

Okay. Enough.

She slammed down the lid of her laptop.

She knew when she was beaten. As she silently acknowledged her defeat, the tight knot inside her unraveled and a fire burst into life, shooting along her nerves, settling low down in her belly.

For a minute, she sat staring down at the desktop. Then she straightened and leaned back, so her head rested against the smooth silk of his shirt. Behind her, he went still. She sat for a minute savoring her defeat, then she swiveled her chair around, forcing him to straighten. Tipping her head back, she looked up into his face. The hard lines were tense, but something flickered in his dark eyes. Hope? Need? The same need that was burning in her veins. Why not give them what they both craved?

“Touch me,” she murmured.

Shock flashed across his features. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they blazed with triumph.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

His words made her pause. When had things gotten so intense between them? It didn’t seem real. Was the emotion for her? Or was he still pining for some other woman?

But she’d waited too long to protest. He straightened and brought his hands down on her shoulders, held her gaze as he slid them down her body to cup her breasts.

He squeezed, and a wave of pleasure rolled through her, then he rubbed the stiffening nipples, and she was lost. Plucking open the buttons of her shirt, he slid one hand inside, under the lace of her bra, and pinched one tight peak.

“Oh God,” she groaned under her breath as he tugged the nipple between his thumb and finger and pinched again.

He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, what made her body burn as though they’d done this a hundred times before.

He leaned down close, and his lips caressed the side of her neck, his warm breath teasing her skin. “Phoebe.”

Her whispered name drove the last of her doubts away. She turned her face so his lips met hers, and he kissed her as though he was starving and only she could satisfy him. Kissed her until her head was spinning, and she was filled with a sense of rightness.

With her last remnants of reason, she tried to tell herself this was purely physical. She’d never wanted love, but now the words rose in her throat and she had to swallow them down. Then Cade deepened the kiss, and all rational thoughts fled her mind.

…

The taste of her was driving him wild. Cade couldn’t believe it was happening at last. How many times over the past days had he cursed himself for making that promise not to touch her? Now, he felt the tension drain from her body as she went boneless in his arms.

His fangs ached with the need to taste her, but he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t let her see all he had become until she admitted her love for him. He tried not to think of it, concentrated instead on his cock, which had been hard since the moment she’d first touched him. He’d meant to take this slowly, take her to his bed, but he knew he couldn’t wait.

His hands slid to her waist, and he lifted her out of the chair to stand before him. He stroked both hands over the swell of her bottom, down the long line of her legs, until they reached the hemline of her skirt. Gripping the material in his fists, he dragged it upward to expose her stocking-clad legs and naked thighs, then lifted her so she sat perched on the edge of the desk, her skirt bunched up around her waist. He wrapped his fingers in the black lace of her panties, ripped them away, and breathed in the warm scent of her arousal perfuming the air.

The tenuous hold he had on his control snapped. His fingers grazed lightly over the warm wetness between her thighs, parting the drenched folds of her sex, finding the swollen nub. He swiped the pad of his thumb over the sensitive flesh, and a moan of pleasure escaped her throat.

“I want you,” he said. He parted her thighs, opening her to him, and pushed one finger inside. She convulsed around him, and he held her in place with a hand on her hips, as he withdrew, then eased inside her again, loving the feel her slick arousal. Finally, he could hold off no longer. He straightened, flicked open the button at his waist, and lowered the zipper. His cock sprang free.

She fell back so she was resting on her elbows, watching him down the line of her body as he stepped up close to her, opened her with unsteady fingers, then sank his cock in her in one hard thrust.

He was back in heaven.

She gasped, but when he made to pull back, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged him closer. He stood for a minute, savoring the feel of her tight muscles wrapping him.

“In all my life,” he murmured, “I have never felt anything so perfect.”

His hands moved to the curve of her hips, and he held her steady while he started to move. He closed his eyes at the exquisite drag of her tight sheath as he withdrew, then pushed back inside. He pumped into her, slow at first as she accustomed herself to him, then picking up speed, the sensations filling his mind until the whole world narrowed to the feel of his cock.

He felt her shudder beneath the impact of his strokes. She was close now, he remembered the way she rubbed her core frantically against him, the tightening of her inner muscles, the wildness of her eyes. He thrust once more, grinding his hips into her, and she imploded around him, screaming his name. He came with her, his head falling back as the pleasure exploded through his cock, his balls, shooting up his spine. It seemed to go on forever, but finally he slumped down and rested his forehead against her breasts, felt her hand move to stroke the hair at the back of his neck.

Peace had eluded him for so long, and now just for a moment, a sense of calm washed over him, pulled him in, engulfed him in its warm embrace.

He straightened and slipped free of her. She appeared dazed, her eyes half-closed, her body boneless. Picking her up, he held her close as he carried her through the door at the back of his office into his private quarters. He sat on the edge of the bed, propped her between his thighs, holding her steady when she swayed, and stripped off the rest of her clothes. Then he laid her gently on the bed and came down beside her.

This time, with the urgency gone, he made love to her slowly, erotically, trailing his lips down over the soft skin of her breasts, his tongue lapping her nipples, sucking gently on the engorged nubs until she arched beneath him. He crawled up her body, wrapped his arms around her, and slid his cock into the tight sheath. As he rocked languorously, the pleasure built inside him. His hips rotated against her swollen, sensitive flesh until she came again and he lost himself in the wonder of making love to her. Afterward he lay on his side watching her sleep, a small smile curving her lips.

His body felt sated but his mind was in turmoil.

Phoebe still hadn’t said she loved him. He’d seen it in her eyes, but she needed to speak the words for the Covenant to be complete. Fear and panic clawed at his insides. He didn’t think he could survive losing her a second time.

These last few days had been a combination of dream and nightmare. Being close, but not touching her. Knowing if he messed up, he could lose her again, this time forever.

His cell phone rang. He picked it up—it was Torr.

“We need to talk now—we have a problem with Bryce.”

Cade had suspected it would come to this. Bryce had been struggling since his own search had failed. Cade hoped he just needed time away and his soul was not returning to the shadows.

How would he fare if Phoebe were lost to him forever? Would he cope any better than Bryce? He doubted it. He sensed the darkness that slept deep inside him stir, and he pushed it down, locked it off. He would not return to the evil ways; he would get Torr to kill him first. He hoped he was strong enough, but he just didn’t know.

Cade stroked a finger along her cheek. She was deep asleep, and he reluctantly got out of bed. He pulled on some clothes and headed out. Pausing at the door, he looked back. Her eyes were open, watching him.

“I have to go,” he said.

“Should I come?”

He shook his head. “There’s no need. This is personal, not business. I shouldn’t be too long—go back to sleep.”

“Cade—”

Something in her voice alerted him. Tension seized his limbs, locking him in place. “Yes?” He held his breath as he waited for her to speak.

She came up on one elbow and pushed her hair from her face. “I—” She broke off and bit her lip.

“What is it?” He could hear the urgency in his own voice.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Disappointment stabbed him in the gut. He pushed it down and opened the door. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

…

Phoebe stared at the closed door.

She’d been on the point of saying,
I love you
. The words had hovered on her lips but at the last moment, she’d swallowed them. She didn’t know what held her back. She couldn’t deny—to herself, at least—that she was falling in love with him. And even that wasn’t the truth. In some strange way, she felt as though she had always loved him.

She’d resolved early on in her life that she would never love. She’d freely acknowledged that her decision had been based on fear. The dream had haunted her childhood, until as a teenager she had eventually become ill from lack of sleep. Her father had taken her to a therapist, and with a combination of techniques, the dreams had been banished deep into her subconscious and had remained there until recently. She’d thought they had been forgotten, but now she realized how much they had shaped her life. She’d never been scared of
love
, but of loving and losing.

The last few days had turned her world upside down. She was still scared, but her feelings for Cade were too intense to ignore. They drowned out the fear. All the same, it was unsurprising that she would balk at this last hurdle—saying the words out loud.

Now she thought about walking away from Cade, and a sharp pain pierced her heart. It was already too late.

When he got back, she would tell him she loved him. And see where they went from there. She would learn to cope with the fear.

She couldn’t sleep, though. Instead, she climbed out of bed. Cade’s blue silk shirt lay across the chair. Phoebe picked it up, held it to her nose. For a minute, she breathed in the scent of him then she shrugged into it, smoothing the silk against her sensitized skin.

This must be Cade’s apartment; she hadn’t even realized it existed. Now she explored the rooms. It was beautifully—if sparsely—furnished, the décor masculine with little in the way of superfluous decoration. He liked neutral shades, with bold splashes of color.

Phoebe wandered through the open-plan living area, found the kitchen, and walked through a door into a small windowless room. There was no furniture other than a single straight-backed chair, positioned facing the wall. And on the wall hung a huge painting. It was the first painting she had seen in the apartment, and she moved closer to look.

The picture showed a woman in a simple red tunic dress, her long blond hair in a braid down her back. Her face was lifted to the sky, and she was smiling, her dark brown eyes filled with love.

Across the top of the painting was written the name: Eleni.

Phoebe reached up to touch her own face as she took in the features of the woman in the painting. Identical to her own.

A cold solid lump congealed in her stomach, and bile rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down. There would be an explanation. She sank into the chair and stared for long minutes searching the woman’s face. There was no doubt; it was like looking into a mirror.