Stone-Cold Lover (7 page)

Her breath expelled on a gasp. But it was too late now to worry about his gargoyle size.

The tendons in his neck strained. His pulse hammered at the sheer, overwhelming bliss of making love with this woman with the incredibly heightened sensitivity of a gargoyle.

His cock throbbed and through clenched teeth he half sobbed out a breath, his hands bunching into fists as he resisted coming hard and hot inside her. Her inner muscles gloved him, almost undoing him. But somehow he held back as he stroked harder and faster, the slap of flesh hitting flesh almost drowning out Loretta’s mewls of delight.

She came hard. Her muscles squeezed his cock, pulling and sucking. As she sobbed out his name like a benediction, he returned the favor, bellowing her name into the night air as he too surrendered to rapture, his seed erupting inside her, filling her, marking her as his. In a haze, he felt her shudder once more, heard her awed and breathless “Wow” as another orgasm took her by surprise.

“Wow indeed,” he agreed hoarsely.

She shifted awkwardly, and he reluctantly let her go. His cock slid free as she slipped to the ground. He followed her and gathered her close then flipped them around so that she lay on top of him. His outspread wings tucked her close and warm, and she sighed, happy and replete, before winding her legs around him as if she’d never let go.

As gargoyle, Cray heard the sudden snap of a twig a nanosecond before Lincoln’s enraged voice jerked them apart.

“Get the
hell
away from my daughter.”

Cray captured Loretta’s hand, drawing her up beside him and shielding her with a wing as he stood and faced her father. Without his wheelchair, Lincoln advanced with jerky steps, which Cray suspected had little to do with old age and everything to do with wrath.

“You broke our pact,” Lincoln snarled at him. Leaning against the pool gate, his breathing heavy, he burst out, “And you failed to protect my daughter. You’re not fit for the role of guardian.”

Loretta gasped.
“Daddy!
You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Lincoln turned on his daughter and even in the shadows Cray made out the sheen on the elderly man’s face, the ugly redness of anger and grief.

“My word, I do, you silly chit!” His eyes blazed. “You could have had Max but instead you drove him mad with your loose morals.” He coughed fitfully then drew another ragged breath. “Just weeks ago he asked permission to seek your hand in marriage.”

Tension hummed from Loretta like a force field as she faced down her father. “I’m guessing you said
yes
?”

“Of course.
I was—”

“Relieved?” she finished for him.

Lincoln slumped, hacking out another cough. “
Bah.
You are out of control. Your reputation tattered.” He lifted his head slowly, as if it were too heavy for his shoulders. “Frankly, I was surprised he would do you the honor.”

Cray’s blood ran lava hot
. But when Loretta choked out a sob, instant freeze avalanched down his spine. He drew Loretta close, indifferent to her father’s withering stare that took in every inch of his gargoyle nakedness. “I’d marry her in a heartbeat, if I could.”

Loretta went quiet but he was aware of her galloping pulse, her shuddering breaths. Just as he perceived her dad’s all-enveloping rage.

“Of course you would, you
monster
. You knew Max loved her but you wanted her all for yourself and got rid of the only man who wanted her for more than just her too-willing body.”

Loretta’s arm snaked around Cray’s waist, her body leaning into his as if soaking up its strength. “The only monster I’m seeing, Daddy, is you.” She looked up at Cray, her moist stare beseeching as she said softly, “Get me out of here.”

They turned toward the cliff face but paused as Lincoln roared, “
Retta
.
Don’t you
dare
leave with
him.
”

She didn’t turn around, her spine steely straight as she said, “I can’t bear to stay.”

“Then you leave me no choice,” Lincoln said hoarsely.

Cray half turned and watched as her dad lurched inside the gate, the old man’s attention once again focused solely on him.

“I release you, gargoyle. Release you from your guardian role.”

Loretta stumbled. “No!
No…no…no!”

Cray reached out and steadied her. But his breath hissed at the sudden, heavy weight inside his chest, his belly that twisted with grief. “I’m sorry, Loretta. So very, very sorry,” he whispered.

He dropped his hold and stepped away, a little piece of him dying just then at her sob of denial, at the way her splayed arms covered her nudity. But restlessness already tugged at his awareness, a compulsion impossible to ignore.

His wings unfurled, fluttering in preparation for flight. With fierce resolve he stilled them,
arcing
the leathery tip of one low before sliding it like a wisp of satin beneath her chin.

Fire burned in her stare, and he
knew
then she would not for a moment accept this fate. He smiled but he felt no joy. Had he been human, had circumstances been different, he’d have made this amazing woman his wife.

“Goodbye, my darling,” he said thickly. “I’ll never forget you.”

Tears trekked freely down her face. “I’ll see you again. Soon,” she whispered.

He pivoted away, his eyes stinging, his spirit numb. He wished he could stay even just a little longer. Wished he could voice the three little words scalding his throat.

But wishes weren’t for the likes of him.

He lunged into a sprint toward the cliff, almost oblivious to the wetness spilling down his cheeks. He leapt over the glass fencing and into the abyss on the other side. Freefalling, he gave into the gut-wrenching howl of anguish he could no longer contain.

Chapter Five

Loretta watched the sun slowly sink behind the ocean’s horizon. It cast a blood-red path all the way to the shore, turning the creamy froth of gentle waves a luminous pink.

She let out a shaky breath, trying hard to concentrate on its beauty and maintain the numbness she’d embraced these last two months since Cray’s enforced leave, and then her father’s sudden death just three days later.

She hadn’t been completely insensate. She’d had the foresight to hire a professional to track down Cray—a satellite surveillance technician at the top of his game.

Like it or not, being the sole benefactor to an empire had its advantages.

It was truly unbelievable that Cray had only been a hop, skip and jump away—a twenty-minute drive south from the harbor mansion if the traffic was flowing.

The sun dipped fully behind the sea and she stepped back into the shadows, at last giving in to the shiver of excitement that evoked once more what it was to feel alive.

Finally
she’d be reunited with Cray.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

She spun around, giddy with relief and wild optimism. Her heart thrashed in her chest as she grinned like a loon. She might not be able to see him but she heard the longing in his voice, the need. “You surely didn’t think I’d stay away?” she asked huskily.

At the silence, she took a few steps forward. Her night vision adjusted and she finally made out his looming silhouette just yards away.

Tingles shot down her spine, raising goose bumps along the flesh of her arms. She’d almost forgotten just how big he was. How charismatic. “You surely didn’t think I’d forget about
us
, did you?” she added in a whisper.

She brushed a hand over her belly. God willing, there was even more reason now for them to be together.

His eyes glinted. “No. No I—”

A sharp crack—a gunshot?—cut his sentence short. He grunted in surprise and staggered backward. An instant later he appeared to regain his bearings. Looking up, he said harshly, “Run!”

“But you—” She didn’t—couldn’t—move as the world suddenly spun crazily around her. She swallowed back the panicked waves of dizziness “You’ve been
shot
.”

A bullet thudded into the ground close by as another crack sounded, sending up a spray of sand.

With a fierce expletive, Cray charged toward her. Without breaking stride he scooped her into his arms. His wings curled forward, shielding her. Bending low, his mouth close to her ear, he hissed, “Stay quiet. Don’t do
anything
to regain their attention.”

Loretta bit back a sob. Emotions she’d kept locked away now spilled free, escalating and running rampant in her mind. She’d thought fate had dealt her its worst blow with her mother’s kidnapping, Max’s madness and her father’s death.

It hadn’t.

Cray had been hurt. And with his guardian instincts kicking into gear and shoving all self-preservation aside, he might very well not survive this night.

“Hold on tight,” he whispered urgently.

She did so without a word, twining her hands behind his neck, her legs around his waist. She felt his muscles bunch then he leapt high into the air, his wings unfurling wide.

In the darkness, she made out the blurred silhouette of a large tree and just yards away a huge house. Leaves quivered as Cray grabbed hold of a thick tree branch. When he swung onto it, she felt the strain in his body, heard his nearly inaudible gasp of pain.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

His mouth covered hers in a hard, desperate kiss, silencing her. Yet his voice was gentle, almost poignant as he whispered, “Stay here.
Please.
” His voice thrummed with tension and then a tinge of self-mockery when he added almost inaudibly, “Duty calls.”

He placed her on the branch, and even in the darkness she saw him wince, knew he was badly wounded. “You’ll be safe now. Just. Don’t.
Move.”
He looked at her hard, and then curved a hand around her head.

His touch lingered then dropped. And without a backward glance he hoisted himself higher into the tree. Something wet splattered onto her arm. She touched it, her hand coming away sticky and wet. Blood, she realized with a soundless moan.

Through the branches, a half-moon glimmered between parting clouds, enabling her to see Cray as he dropped into a crouch above. He paused then vaulted across the gap. Landing nimbly on the pitched roof ledge, he disappeared up and over its other side.

She sucked in a breath and released it. But panic suffused her from the inside out, making her teeth chatter and her hands visibly shake.

It was happening all over again. She was going to lose the one person who meant the world to her. Her stomach cramped, her skin felt hot, as if it were on fire, while she fought off a need to throw up.

Please…not again.

But her silent plea went unheard as she saw sudden movement in the shadows below. Three shapes materialized into men from out of the darkness. Dangerous, heavily armed men, she realized with a hastily covered gasp as moonlight glinted on one of the firearms.

Dizziness hit again and receded. She wanted to yell out, to warn Cray of the approaching danger. But no words could pass through the thick lump wedged in her throat.

Oh God. She couldn’t stand back and watch the one she loved die.

Not this time.

* * * * *

Cray dropped into the front courtyard. From there he could view the road and a small section of beach from where the bullets had been fired.

Clouds drifted over the moon once more but it mattered little. The radar of his gargoyle senses was attuned to Loretta—taking away his focus, distracting him from the life-and-death issues at hand.

His breath hissed. Damn it. He
had
to concentrate.

A sudden breeze cooled his skin, bringing a faint whiff of his attacker. His nose crinkled with distaste.
Sweat.
And fear.

He heard footsteps. More than one attacker, he realized with a flare of alarm. But it was an anxiety held for Loretta alone.

His new guardianship status hardly registered.

He had no time to ponder this inconceivable development. Adam, the criminal lawyer he’d guarded since he’d been forced to leave Loretta, would be close to pissing his pants right now.

He grimaced. The sooner he rescued the unlikable little man, the sooner he could get back to Loretta and make certain she didn’t get hurt.

Cray turned around and faced a large wooden door. Its delicate carvings didn’t fool him into doubting its solid construction but with no time to key in a security code, he raised his foot high and lashed out.

The door burst open, splinters of wood skidding into the entrance foyer. A high-tech alarm screamed to life.

He hoped the noise would distract the attackers—even give them good reason to withdraw but knew it was unlikely. What they had planned would be completed before any police or security guard checked out the disturbance.

He raced up the stairs. The wound in his shoulder burned like fury. Blood freely spilled, splattering the fine cream-colored wool carpet.

He didn’t need to use his refined senses to find the man the thugs were really after. The fancy criminal lawyer was blubbering and hysterical, cowering beneath his four-poster bed in a rumpled business suit.

Cray dragged Adam out with his good arm, the other one now almost useless. “Quiet,” he snapped.

“But…they’re coming for me. I heard the gunshots outside!” The lawyer’s face was blotchy red as he stumbled forward. Arms
pinwheeling
, he grabbed hold of Cray and one hand curled like a vise on his guardian’s injured shoulder. “You
have
to help me.”

Cray almost howled with pain and when Adam’s fingers dug even deeper into his wound he gritted his teeth and carefully extracted the lawyer’s torturous grip. With a well-aimed strike, he cracked him a good one across the skull.

Adam crumpled to the floor without another word and Cray murmured without remorse, “It’s safer this way, for both of us.”

He gathered the unconscious man into his arms, wincing at the searing agony in his shoulder. He moved toward the window and peered through.
No one below.
He stepped back. The glass was thick but breakable. And they were high enough to glide to safety.