Rage and Redemption (Rebel Angels) (6 page)

“I was looking for you,” Gideon whispered. “You missed Compline and Gabriel was worried.” He gently touched her hair and pressed a kiss to her brow.

Tears burned her throat but she stubbornly fought them back. She wanted to stay in his arms, to cuddle against his chest until the last of her fear was driven away. But she didn’t know him, couldn’t trust him, couldn’t trust herself when she was with him.

“How did you know where to find me?”

His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the fullness of her lower lip. “Gabriel told me where to look.”

“I didn’t see Gabriel before I departed. He didn’t know where I had gone.” She sat up, still mostly in his lap. He was like a wavering mirage, an illusion created by what she wanted him to be.

His hand settled at the nape of her neck and his thumb stroked up and down along the side of her throat, tracing her pulse. “Someone must have seen you depart. I know not how he knew, but he did. I am here. You are safe. That is all that matters.”

She had to do something, say something to break the tension building between them. “If this is what you meant by excitement and adventure, I’m more certain than ever I can do without.”

He smiled and slowly shook his head. “I was talking about this.”

She didn’t resist when he pressed his lips over hers. Her hungry fingers found his long hair. It was as gloriously soft as she remembered. She inhaled his exotic scent and savored the firm press of his lips.

He kissed her gently, patiently. Even the brief touch of his tongue comforted her. She was able to banish the other man’s cruel face by concentrating on Gideon. A familiar tingle tripped along her spine and she sighed. But all too soon he eased her away.

Almost desperately she reached for him. “Please,” she whispered, “I need…to forget.”

A strangled groan escaped him as he pulled her more fully onto his lap. He supported her with one arm while his mouth settled over hers. “Do you trust me?” His lips moved against hers as he spoke the words.

“Nay.” She punctuated the admission with a nervous laugh.

“Let me touch you, Naomi. Let me show you how it is meant to be.”

A shiver passed through her. “I cannot escape being ravaged only to surrender myself to you.”

“That’s not what I’m proposing. I want only to give you what you requested, a way to forget.”

Temptation. Oh wicked temptation. And he was right. She had asked him for it. “You will do no more than touch me?”

“Aye.”

“With your fingers?”

He laughed. “Unless you beg me to do otherwise.”

“Nay! Not even then. You must promise it will go no further than a touch.”

“Do you really have so little faith in your ability to resist me?”

She threaded her fingers through his hair, her gaze fixed on his mouth. “I would have your word or this ends here.”

“I will touch you with my fingers and kiss your mouth but nothing more.”

“Then touch me.”

She felt the considerable proof of his desire jerk against her behind as if to protest the restriction. The tip of his tongue circled her lips and his hand slipped under the edge of her ruined chemise, cupping her breast.

Her breath hitched and she murmured wordlessly. Heat emanated from his hand, seeping into her flesh, making her ache. Her nipple gathered against his palm, tight and sensitive. Separating the sides of her chemise, he offered her breasts to the moonlight and his hungry gaze.

“So lovely.” He stroked the soft underside of her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, working them into pebble-hard points.

His dark head dipped, his intention clear, but Naomi dragged his mouth to hers. Kisses were safe, familiar. She didn’t understand these other feelings so she clung to what she knew. His hand continued to caress her breasts while he kissed her deeply and tenderly.

Abandoning herself to their kisses, she shifted restlessly on his lap. He left her breasts exposed to the night wind and found the hem of her garment. His palm ascended along her bare calf. He deepened the kiss, his tongue dueling with hers.

Tension kept her thighs pressed together. “Relax, Naomi. Open for me.” She trembled but her legs parted and his fingers brushed the damp curls at the apex of her thighs.

For a moment he just cupped her mound, applying gentle pressure. She tried not to panic. No one had ever touched her there. Surely it was sinful. She knew she was wet and she felt…swollen. That seemed to happen whenever he touched her, but why?

His finger sank between her slick folds and she tore her mouth from his, panting harshly into the night. Her inner muscles rippled as he circled the opening to her feminine passage.

“You are so wet, so ready to take me,” he whispered.

With his finger teasing her entrance, he brushed his thumb across a spot so exquisitely sensitive it made her entire body tremble. He circled the sensitive nub again and again. She moaned, clutching his shoulders.

The night wind swirled around her as her senses took flight. She felt weightless, yet edgy, needful of something she had yet to understand.

Suddenly, the tension inside her spiraled out of control. Heat and tingling pleasure pulsed from the center of her sex. She arched and shook, as the pleasure claimed her. He continued the caress, prolonging each rippling sensation. Finally, she collapsed against him, shaken and dazed.

Gideon eased her away, his features tight, his expression pained. His hot breath fanned her face in ragged puffs. “Oh Naomi, how I burn for you.”

She could hear desire harsh within his voice, but he set her from him and struggled to his feet. Remaining on the ground, she clutched her ruined dress with one hand, her gaze following him. He dragged deep gulps of air into his lungs and then raised his face to the sky. Naomi felt her skin prickle as she watched him. It was as if he drew strength from the darkness surrounding them.

“Will you please take me back to the Krak?” she asked awkwardly.

He didn’t respond. Motioning toward his horse with the graceful sweep of his arm, he waited for her to rise.

“I don’t think I can walk,” she said in a soft, embarrassed tone.

Without a word he returned and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to his horse, holding her snugly against his chest. He hesitated for a moment. His gaze moved slowly over her face. Did he enjoy having her helpless in his embrace?

He set her on the saddle then mounted behind her. With quick, efficient movements he arranged his cloak to encompass them both and set the horse into motion.

“Did you know that man?” Naomi asked, ready for any topic other than her brazen behavior. “He said he’d just come from the Krak. I think he was a mercenary. Was he familiar to you?”

She felt his arm stiffen subtly. He took a moment to answer. “I’m not certain.”

“You’re not certain?”

“I was mad with rage, Naomi. I saw only your distress and the back of his head.”

That wasn’t true. After Gideon lifted the man off her, they had faced each other. There had been plenty of time for Gideon to determine if he knew the man. “What should I do if I see him again? What if he returns to the Krak?”

He splayed his long fingers against her ribs and his cheek nuzzled her hair. “You worry for nothing. The villain is long gone.”

He was trying to distract her with his touch. His attempt made her all the more suspicious. “How can you be certain? How can you possibly know that I’ll not encounter him again?”

Slowing the horse to a lumbering walk, Gideon grabbed Naomi and lifted her into his arms. He swung her legs to one side so she sat upon his lap again. “The danger is gone. Trust me in this.”

His fierce expression only compounded her misgivings. “Who was that man? How do you know there is no danger?”

“You guessed correctly. I know him and I will see that he never touches you again.”

“How?”

His hand tangled in her hair and he brought her face up to his. “I will kill him if you like. Is that what you want to hear? I will spill his blood and laugh as the life fades from his eyes.”

“Why? What am I to you? Why would you offer such a thing? Why were you following me?” She was nearly shouting by the time she finished her list of questions.

“Tell me what you want. Name your price. What must I do to possess you?” His voice was thick with desire, harsh and urgent.

Confused and a little afraid, Naomi guided his hand out of her hair. “I have no wish to be
possessed
by anyone. I want
nothing
from you.”

“It did not seem so a few minutes ago.”

She started to protest then simply turned her face away. Untangling her skirts, she maneuvered her leg back over the horse’s neck and did her best to ignore her tormentor?”

In the darkness behind the barracks, Gideon stomped the length of the building and back. His hands curled into tight fists, his nails cutting painfully into his palms. One powerful sweep of his mind revealed that Crispin wasn’t inside the building. Dragging a long, deep breath into his burning lungs, he spun to face the wall. He had to control his fury before he summoned Crispin or his friend wouldn’t survive the confrontation.

He’d saved Crispin’s life on the battlefield thirteen years before. Forcing a small amount of his own blood into the mouth of the mortally wounded youth had not only triggered Crispin’s miraculous recovery, it had created a strong mental and emotional bond between the two. Crispin was faultlessly loyal but he was not a mindless puppet. Gideon had allowed him to retain his personality.

Gideon scraped his nails along the wall and he pressed his forehead against the cold stones. He shook with the need to kill. He was angry, he was hungry, and he was aroused. Focusing on the hunger, Gideon battled back the need for violence and sexual release.

He growled low in his throat and turned to press his back against the wall. He sent out a mental summons, drawing Crispin to him. Splaying his hands against the stones, Gideon concentrated on the rough, cold texture beneath his palms. He allowed the coolness to seep into his body, calming and soothing him.

A soft, feminine giggle broke his concentration. He sprang away from the wall and crouched, ready for battle. Females seldom traveled alone, even within the castle compound. A young woman stopped short as she rounded the corner and saw him. Held back by a solid red scarf, her long, dark hair framed an unlined face. Her dark eyes were wide and luminous with fear.

“Don’t be afraid,” Crispin said as he stepped up behind her. “He will not hurt you.”

Gideon’s eyebrow arched at the lie. Had Crispin misunderstood the reason for his command or was this a clever ploy to defuse Gideon’s anger? The sexual desire ignited by touching Naomi surged again. He needed release and he needed blood.

The frantic pounding of the woman’s heart echoed through his head. He could smell her fear, imagine the addictive heat of her blood rolling across his tongue and warming him from the inside out. She trembled. Her helplessness excited him even more.

Wordlessly he raised his hand, casting his thrall and commanding the woman to him. Her eyes stared back at him unblinking and unfocused. She stood before him utterly defenseless.

Gideon glanced past the woman, his eyes clashing with Crispin’s. “Do not depart. I would speak with you.”

“I’ll stand guard,” Crispin muttered, and then discreetly turned his back.