Stone Passions Trilogy (95 page)

He nodded, his cheek moving against hers as he murmured, ‘But it isn’t long lasting and we don’t suffer any hangovers.” Pressing a kiss against her neck, he whispered, “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

She nodded as pleasure buzzed low in her belly. Turning around to face him, she draped her arms over his neck, the beer bottles touching his skin and making him jerk. Holding his eyes, swaying to a tune that only they could hear, she murmured, “I want to do it with you because you’ll keep me safe.”

What she remembered of that night was that the sex had been phenomenal, as always, and that she was never going to drink again.

They had spent most of their time inside the mountain ski lodge, only occasionally hitting the slopes. Since they rarely left their rooms it probably would have made more sense to simply stay at the castle but neither of them had been eager to share their relationship with the rest of the family. Ferris was unwilling to share their brief time together with anyone, especially her family. They were still going to be here when he woke up while she wasn’t sure if she would be. Even if she had several plans in place to extend her life span there were no guarantees.

While they rested between bouts of sex, from the purely carnal to the sweet and heartbreaking, they had talked and she had sketched, filling up a few sketchbooks with as many different images as she could to keep her warm in the cold and lonely life ahead. The sketches and the videos she had taken during their trips were already priceless treasures.

Now they were back at the castle, back in her studio, the place where it all began.

Only Melanie and Georgia had been home when they had returned to the castle only a few hours prior, since the sun was still up. Her aunt had taken one look at them, at the way Ferris was snuggled up against Armand’s side, at Armand’s arm possessively wrapped around Ferris, and she blinked. Once. And then the most beautiful smile spread across her face and she leapt up from the couch and threw her arms around both of them, laughing giddily, “Armand!! You gave up your nights to Ferris? Oh, my gods….”

Armand cleared his throat and put a restraining hand on Melanie’s arm as tears slipped down Ferris’s cheek, “Not exactly.”

Melanie took a step back and her brows drew together in confusion and then concern as she saw the misery on Ferris’s face. Reaching out, she took Ferris’s hand, “Honey….”

“I’ll explain later,” Ferris whispered, squeezing her aunt’s hand and offering a tremulous smile. She could see by Melanie’s expression that her aunt had a million questions but she held her tongue and Ferris was grateful. With one last glance at her aunt, she and Armand made their way to her studio and the sex was almost frantic with desperation. It was becoming increasingly desperate as their time together ran out.

“Did you know when Vaughn first met Melanie I was jealous as hell?” Armand asked from out of nowhere. Tilting her head back, Ferris saw that he was staring out the skylight to the moon that was waning, his thoughts a million miles in the past. “I had been half in love with her myself but she had only ever had eyes for Vaughn.

“I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I met her first,” his voice trailed off as he spoke of things Ferris had never known, had never ever guessed at. Twinges of jealousy nibbled at the edges of her thoughts but their time was too short to give in to the green eyed beast. She’d have time to deal with it after…. He chuckled softly, “She was unlike any human I had ever met, Ferris, completely at ease in the world of magic and for a gargoyle that was a tremendous discovery. Even Katrina wasn’t as comfortable around us as Melanie was, at least not all of the time. Sometimes…. Well, it's not important.

“You see, gargoyles used to be among the very few creatures that could straddle both worlds with ease: as men throughout the night and as gargoyles during the day. We kept the two worlds separate and Melanie crashed through all of the barriers,” he smiled, the sad sound of nostalgia lacing his voice. “Vaughn never stood a chance.”

“Do you still love her?” she asked softly.

He looked at her with such tenderness, such adoration, in his eyes that she wanted to weep. Softly, he ran his fingers along her temple, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “Not in the way you’re asking, but I do love her. She went against all of my expectations and chose Vaughn, even when he was a gargoyle. I will always love her for that.”

Pushing herself up onto her arm so she could look down at his handsome face, she smiled. One of his arms was bent, his hand resting beneath his head, his muscles bulging. His other arm was around her waist, his fingers gently stroking her bare skin. “You’re a romantic!”

Color stained his cheek bones as he grimaced, “I am most assuredly not a romantic.”

“You are,” she grinned, brushing her thumb over his soft, firm lips. “All of this time you have been pretending to be this cold, unfeeling gargoyle when the fact of the matter is you feel things too deeply.”

He nipped at her thumb and she jerked her hand away, laughing in sheer pleasure. She had been right all along. “Oh, Armand, I do love you.”

“I know,” he grinned, abruptly shifting their positions until she was on her back and he was looming over her. The smile faded from his lips as he gazed down at her and she felt it, too: the ticking of the clock as time sped through their fingers.

“I hate Katrina for making you think you had to encase your heart in ice,” she murmured, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. In the candle light his skin glowed warmly and his muscles were clearly defined and she wanted the moment to last forever. The dark, masculine scent of him filled her head and she wished she could bottle the scent.

“Everything worked out the way it had to in order to bring me to you,” he whispered, lightly brushing his lips against hers, teasing her with a kiss that was barely there. “Had Katrina accepted my gift then I would never have discovered the sweetest, most kissable, most delectable Ferris and that truly would have been a tragedy.”

“You
are
a romantic.” Her smile trembled as she looked up into the face of the man she had loved since she was sixteen, the man she would always love. He was her destiny, if only for another week.

“No,” he denied again, a smile teasing his lips even though his green eyes were troubled. “I am a man who adores a beautiful, courageous woman and I don’t know how I am going to adjust to a life I no longer know without you there to guide me.

“I should have had faith in you, Ferris,” he lamented as his mouth slanted over hers and he gave nourishment to her soul. She just prayed it was enough to last for the rest of her life. He settled his weight between her thighs, thrusting his heavy erection into the depths of her body. Framing her face between his large hands, he stared intently into her eyes, the green depths glowing with determination, “Ferris, I want you to promise me that you won’t mourn me for the rest of your life.”

“Armand,” she rasped, unable to bear talking about the future when her future didn’t include him. “Don’t….”

“Promise me,” he growled, punctuating his words with a powerful thrust. “I want you to find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Armand, please….”

“Someone who will be brave,” he uttered, plunging deeper into her body. “Who will be bold.”
Thrust
. “Someone who will be courageous.”
Thrust
. “And accept your love without doubt or hesitation.”

“Armand,” she cried, tangling her arms around his neck and holding him tight, wanting him to stop talking. “If you hadn’t given up your nights we never would have had this time together, we never would have known for sure.”

He enfolded her into his arms, taking her into his body as his breath fanned against her neck, warming the sensitive skin. Ignoring her words, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll hate the bastard that wins your heart because it won’t be me that will get to see your smile; it won’t be me that will share your bed; it won’t be me that will grow old with you.”

“You’ll never grow old,” she managed to choke out, her throat tight with misery. Suddenly she knew with absolute conviction that had he not foolishly given his nights to another woman he never would have been so open with her. There wasn’t a risk to love someone for a month, not really. A lifetime of love was far scarier and infinitely more wonderful. A month just wasn't enough time.

“But I would give up immortality and magic in a heartbeat if it meant I got to grow old with you,” he whispered, the words breaking her heart because she knew them for the lie they were. After that, no more words were spoken because she could no longer bear to dwell on regrets. Giving into passion, feeling him in the depths of her body, her soul, she let the lies go. He pushed her higher and higher, kissing her, stroking her, until she broke.

After she came down from a sweltering orgasm, he gathered her up in his arms and held her close. His heart pounded against her ear, the most blessedly beautiful sound and in less than a week she wouldn’t hear it again. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to ignore the sorrow that was threatening to engulf her as she tightened her hold on him.

She couldn’t stop the bleak thoughts even as he combed his fingers through her hair, as he whispered words of love and eternity against the shell of her ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin and embedding the words in her heart. In the years ahead all she was going to have of Armand was a stolen moment in time.

Already she could picture the future as it spread out before her, a desolate world void of laughter and light. She knew that there would be times when she would smile once more and there may even be moments when she would forget but she also knew that the world was going to be a much colder, crueler place without Armand in it.

Abruptly, he stood up and dragged her to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist to hold her steady, “Come with me, Ferris. I have a gift for you.”

She simply stared at him as if he had gone mad because she was sexually sated in body and mortally aching in spirit. She had no need for gifts that didn’t involve him remaining with her. Without her cooperation, he dressed her in a silky robe, loosely tying it at her waist, before he put his own robe on. Holding her eyes instead of watching where he was going, he led her from the studio, through the maze of rooms and back to his room. He paused outside of the door and took a breath.

This was the first time she had been invited to his room and her pulse thudded madly in her throat at the significance of his actions. He was finally letting her even further in, into his inner sanctum, when it was too late.

She had to wrench her eyes away from his as he turned the knob and the door swung open, revealing the dark opulence of Armand’s private world. Breathing in the rich, spicy scent of Armand, she slowly made her way into his chambers, taking in the massive bed that was the centerpiece of the entire room. It was an old fashioned bed that took up half of the huge room, with heavy curtains that made the bed a secondary chamber onto itself.

Slowly, she made her way around the area, her eyes drawn constantly back to Armand who stood just inside the door watching her with astonishing intensity, as if her opinion mattered. It was a heady feeling, one that ripped through her with its claws of what would no longer be. Lightly running her fingers over the ornately carved dresser, the art deco lamps, she could feel Armand’s stamp on the room.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes, she gave him a teasing smile, “It’s very you, Armand, dark and brooding on the surface but incredibly luxurious and comfortable to its core.”

The corner of his lips quirked upwards in a half smile as he finally stepped into the room, closing the door behind him without a sound. Instead of joining her immediately, he went to the other side of the room and disappeared into a set of doors she hadn’t even realized were there. They blended in seamlessly with the wall and she had to smile. Even in his inner sanctum he had a secret room. Her smile faded because he still kept it from her….

He popped his head out and arched an imperious eyebrow at her, “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

Her smile split her face, making her cheeks ache with perfect pleasure and glee. With a little excited hop, she hurried across the room and joined him, sliding her hand into his in a gesture that was already second nature. Resting her chin against his upper arm, she looked up at him with her heart in her eyes, “What did you want to show me?”

He looked at her with a hint of wonder, a slight smile on his beautifully sculpted lips, “Aren’t you curious about this room? It’s where I perform my more complicated and intricate rituals.”

Making a face at him, she glanced around and felt her jaw drop to the floor. The walls were lined with shelves and the shelves were filled with precious stones, vials of sparkling liquids, jars of strange herbs or whatever. There was an elaborate design on the floor, ancient symbols set with colorful stones accentuating certain parts. Surrounded by this reminder of Armand’s power, she tightened her hold on his arm and pressed her body even closer to his. In a hushed voice filled with awe, she whispered, “It’s incredible, Armand, simply incredible. You’re amazing, my love.”

His smile grew as he led her over to a table where a large, golden sphere sat, a heater lamp shining down on it. Resting his free hand on the strange and beautiful object, he beamed down at her, “This is what I want to give you, love.”

“What is it?” she asked in a soft voice, slowly reaching her hand out and touching the smooth surface, feeling the heat that came off of it in waves. Something moved beneath her hand and she jerked her arm away, laughing a little nervously.

“It’s an egg.”

She arched an eyebrow at that. “What kind of egg?”

“I picked this little guy up when I went to London. When I saw him I knew that it would be the perfect gift for you,” he explained instead of answering. Armand extracted his arm from hers and lifted the heavy sphere up, a self-satisfied grin curving his lips. Holding it close to his body, he motioned for her to look closer, to put her hand back on the golden sphere. In a hushed voice, he whispered, “It’s a pocket dragon.”