The Angel's Assassin (10 page)

It was as she lay
inert in his arms, drifting in and out of dreamland, that she realised how
strong her feelings were for him. Something in her heart spoke to her and a
reassuring knowledge of this man’s importance struck her quite suddenly. The
fire that had slowly been stoked had rapidly sparked, much like the one that
had consumed the inn, and had turned into something far deeper than just
desire. Its suddenness should have frightened her, but instead it settled into
her heart assuredly.

The hair of his
chest tickled at her cheek and she flushed, realising he was in naught but his
braies. He seemed entirely unaware of the fact, in spite of the cold bite in
the air, and was completely engrossed in seeing to her. She smiled to herself.
And he thought himself a man devoid of honour.

Shifting, she kept
gaze to the ground. “Are you not cold?”

“Aye, forgive me.”

Nicholas leapt up
and she faltered as the support of his arms disappeared. He hesitated as she
wearily held herself up.

Forcing herself to
retain a neutral expression, she flicked a look to his face and offered him a
reassuring smile. “I am well enough. Pray, see to yourself.”

As he turned, she
released a sigh. The back of him was just as perfect as the front, his muscular
shoulders moving with a lithe grace. A silent thrill streamed through her at
the knowledge that her bare flesh had been aligned with his, and she wondered
if she were a wanton, because she felt no shame. With any other man, mayhap she
would have been embarrassed, but she had no compunctions about Nicholas having
seen all of her. The very fact that he had come back for her proved his worth.

Annabel still did
not understand why he had sent her away but she suspected it was because he did
not wish to dishonour her. He could not deny his desire for her now, for she
had seen it in his expression as he had opened his eyes after dressing her, and
she was sure that, if he just let himself, he would love her.

Now fully dressed,
she was pleased to note that he had kept her favour and was trying to tie it
himself, a frown of frustration on his brow. Stepping unsteadily to her feet,
she waited until the dizziness subsided before moving to his side. Annabel
wondered if he had been so absorbed in his task that he had not heard her
footsteps crunching across the shingle, as he jolted when she placed a hand on
his arm.

Gingerly taking the
ribbon from him, she deftly tied it around his upper arm before admiring it
with pleasure.

“You have saved my
life twice now.” She fingered the red ribbon. “Yet, I have no favour to give to
you this time.”

She looked at him with her silvered
eyes, wide and trusting. A small smile danced on her mouth and Nicholas
wondered how such a delicate creature could create such a well of fear within
him. He said naught; her proximity robbed him of all words and thoughts.

“A kiss…” she
whispered.

Annabel rose onto
her tiptoes and slowly pressed her lips upon his. He froze, as did his heart,
at the feel of her soft mouth, and he clutched his hands by his side, aware
that his self-restraint was but a hairs breadth away from snapping. The press
of her lips scorched his mouth as she purposefully shifted towards him, her
soft body flattening against his. His hands became clammy from the urge to grab
her, but against all odds he remained motionless.

Her eyes remained
open, locking onto his, and Nicholas found himself unable to tear his gaze
away. Sweet Lord, he wished she would not look at him with such faith.

She pulled back
slightly when he still refused to respond to her attentions, but remained close
enough that he could feel her breath brushing over his bristled jaw.

Annabel looked up
at him from under a veil of golden lashes. “Will you not kiss me?”

“I cannot. I must
not.” His jaw ticked as his hands clenched and unclenched, tension simmering
throughout his body.

Noticing the
movement of his hands, she grabbed one, gently unfurling his fingers. He could
have easily pulled from her grasp but she created such a weakness within him
that he was unable to do aught aside from watch as she brought his hand to her
mouth. She brushed a whisper of a kiss across his knuckles before turning his
palm to her mouth. Nicholas found himself mesmerised as she laid her lips upon
his palm, their sweet softness sending frissons up his arm.

Her teasing smile
returned as she placed his hand to her cheek and his thumb brushed at the
softness of its own accord. A spark of pleasure flashed in her eyes as he
brought his other hand up to cup at her face. Tilting her face up to his, he
leant forwards.

“I cannot,” he
murmured as he brushed his lips down her nose.

Her eyes fluttered
and closed, and her trusting action wrenched at his heart. Weakened by her
belief in him, his lips continued to dance across her face, relishing the feel
of her warm skin. Pure rapture combined with a sickening knowledge of his
deceit grappled in his gut as he brought his lips to hers.

Annabel’s hands worked their way
up his arms, gripping at his shoulders as his lips grazed tenderly across hers.
She felt as if she were in the middle of a tempest as lightening bolted up her
spine, causing pinpricks of exhilaration all over her body. His lips worked
with such gentleness, carefully coaxing hers to respond. His tongue cautiously
delved into her mouth and she gasped as it made contact with hers. Never before
had she experienced such a decadent sensation.

As his mouth
slanted across hers, his fingers delved behind her wet hair, bringing her
closer to him until they were flush against one another. The friction of his
body touching hers was almost unbearable and she moved against his solidity to
try and ease the ache that seemed to take hold.

A groan rumbled
from Nicholas’ chest and he deepened the kiss, causing an overwhelming heat to
accumulate within her. Already weakened and light headed, Nicholas’ kiss served
to deplete any remaining strength and her legs juddered underneath her. His
hand came to the base of her spine to support her and she whimpered as the heat
of it leached into her skin.

“Annabel…”

Nicholas retreated
suddenly and she wavered at the sudden loss of his body. He cursed and tugged
her back into him. She settled into the cocoon of his chest with an instinctive
familiarity, relishing the sound of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She smiled
to herself. He had said her name.

He loved her.

“Annabel, you have
need of rest.”

She sighed,
unwilling to end the moment. “I cannot possibly be tired. I feel as though I
have slept for a sennight.”

“Not a sennight,
but near on two days.”

Annabel yawned in
spite of herself and allowed Nicholas to lead her to the shade of the trees,
where the pebbles gave way to grass. She lay down at his bidding and he
crouched to wrap his thick mantle around her. Annabel was sure she would get no
rest, this being only her second night sleeping with nature, but the watchful
presence of Nicholas and the light burbling of the river seemed to make her
eyelids droop.

Reaching out,
Nicholas went to stroke across her cheek but paused, a wash of uncertainty in
his expression. She willed him on with her eyes, urging him to give into his
impulse, and he relented, sweeping an unsteady finger over her skin.

“I shall watch over
you,” he told her sincerely.

She smiled tiredly
at the determination in his voice. “I know.” Fatigue began to fog her mind
until something occurred to her. “Nicholas, why were you running?”

“Sleep on, sweet
one. I shall explain all when you awake.”

Annabel struggled
in vain to open her eyes but her heavy lids would not co-operate and she
sighed. She was sure she had heard a smile in his voice as he had spoken. How
she would dearly love to see him smile.

While the terror of the fire had
been all but extinguished by Nicholas’ presence, he could not protect Annabel
in her dreams and she slept fitfully. The heat, the horrific sights and the
sounds all vied for her attention as she slumbered, recreating every moment of
fear that her exhausted mind had blocked out. She woke in a cold sweat, taking
a few moments to recognise that she was not burning and suffocating in a fog of
flame.

Her hammering heart
failed to calm when she could not see Nicholas. He had promised to watch over
her, she remembered, and yet she could not see him. She sat up with a start,
her eyes struggling to focus under the bright light of the sun. She had only
slept for a couple of hours, she suspected, so it had to be late afternoon.
Annabel’s gaze locked onto a flash of black in the water and she realised with
a smile that it was Nicholas. He stood a way out, in just his shirt, his
sleeves rolled up and the hem dipping in the water. He clutched a wooden spear
in one hand, something he had presumably crafted while she slept. Her breath
shortened at the handsome figure he cut, his dark chest hair curling over the
neckline of his shirt, his powerful thighs becoming revealed with each movement
of his body. Nicholas’ eyes were focused on the water, his jaw clenched in
determination, and Annabel was glad she was not his quarry, for she would have
little chance against such resolve.

Once again,
feelings of safety and comfort enveloped her. Here was a man who would go to
the ends of the Earth for her, she was sure. She prayed that she would be able
to return home soon and take her with him. Alderweald would be proud to have
such a man…as their master? Annabel laughed at herself; he had not even
declared any intentions towards her. Yet how could she think otherwise. His
devotion to her, the way he looked at her, only served to convince her that
they were bound to one another now. Their souls would be forever entwined.

The water glittered
invitingly under the afternoon rays and Annabel felt the need to freshen up, in
spite of her impromptu dip at Nicholas’ behest. Hiking up her soiled chemise,
she considered how grim she must look in her rags before brushing away such
vanity. She was alive and if she had to wear a smoke-stained garment, then so
be it. It was hardly a hardship considering what fate had delivered to her.

Her life and
Nicholas.

Stepping
tentatively across the shingles, she made her way to the river edge, gasping as
the crisp water swathed around her feet. Annabel giggled as she kicked up some
of the water; delighting in the childlike feeling that such carefree behaviour
filled her with. It was rare that she experienced such moments and she was
grateful for the opportunity. While she tried to take pleasure in life as much
as she could, being the mistress of a large demesne rarely afforded her the
chance.

She sensed his dark
eyes on her and she looked up, sweeping her hair from her face, to be
confronted by an alarming intensity in his gaze. Her heart drummed within the
confines of her ribcage and a flush of heat burgeoned through every fibre of
her being. Staring at him, she could feel her cheeks redden and her mouth part,
as if to draw in more air as it seemed to warm around them. Realising she was
gawping; she lowered her eyes, before delivering a bright smile as she watched
him from under her lashes.

Nicholas had watched her sleep
for some time before realising they had not eaten in two days. Compelled to
take action, he whittled down a branch to create a make-shift spear. Used to
hiding out for long periods of time, slipping in and out of society, he had
long since learnt to become a master hunter; the skills gleaned from his
orphaned childhood becoming honed over time.

A giggle had distracted
him from his prey and he had been surprised to see Annabel at the water’s edge.
He had assumed she would sleep for much longer. Her delight in something so
simple had been the first thing he had noticed. She never failed to astound
him. She had barely escaped with her life two days ago, after a most harrowing
experience, and yet here she was splashing as if she were a child.

It had then been
her creamy legs that had drawn him in, as she held her skirt high above the
waterline. It was hard enough to know that he had been touching them only this
morning but now she displayed them so shamelessly, it was all he could do not
to fall at her knees and beg to kiss them.

She had caught him
staring at her and she stared back, an invisible connection seeming to draw
them together. As she looked away with embarrassment, he scolded himself for
being so dishonourable, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove his gaze from
her. Annabel’s uncommon eyes flicked back up and she granted him a beaming
smile causing Nicholas to feel as if he had been struck by an arrow in the
heart.

As the sun settled
behind her, it shimmered through her chemise, highlighting every curve, and he
scowled then, his impure thoughts angering him.

“Annabel, you are
scaring away the fish,” he snapped at her.

Her face fell
slightly at his harsh words, but she must have realised it was not the fish
that she was scaring, as a smile twitched on her lips and he silently cursed
her perceptiveness. Was there naught he could hide from this woman? Well, there
was one thing, he conceded, the truth about himself, about the beast that he
really was.