The Missing (39 page)

“Don’t hand me that, slick. Get the hell away from her.”

Robert stood behind them, staring into the room with confusion. He hadn’t heard the shrill yet silent cry for help that Taige had heard. Jillian stood frozen in front of Taylor, and she hadn’t said a word. Off to the side, Dez stood glaring at Taylor with furious eyes. Feeling Taige’s gaze, Dez glanced at her with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, Taige. I forgot he had such lousy manners. I never would have thought he’d bother a kid as young as Jillian.”

Shaking her head, Taige said, “It’s not your fault.” Grimly, she added, “It’s mine. I never thought he couldn’t pretend to behave at my wedding.”

“What’s going on?” Robert demanded, moving between his granddaughter and Jones.

“I’m taking care of it,” Taige said, her voice flat. Every protective instinct she had rushed to the fore, and when Taylor turned his charming, empty smile to Robert and Jillian, she could see the wheels spinning inside his head, knew he had plans to just bide his time.

Like hell,
she thought. He reached out to pat Jillian on the head, some false, trite apology falling from his mouth, and Taige reacted without thinking.

“Don’t touch her,” she said. To back up her words, she touched him. But not with her hands. Her darker power, that gift that was akin to telekinesis except it only worked on living things, like people and animals, and right now, Taige had classified Taylor somewhere along the class of hyena or jackal. She was content to treat him as such. Using her mind, she wrapped a “hand” around his throat and cut off any attempt he made to speak. Without looking away from him, she said to Robert, “Why don’t you and Jillian go on downstairs and wait for me?”

“Taige?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be right along.”

Dez left without asking, and without once meeting Jones’s wide, shocked eyes. He clutched at his throat, trying to speak, but he didn’t have the air. His face was rapidly turning a fascinating shade of red. “You’ll leave her alone,” Taige said clearly. “You will not speak to her. You will not project thoughts to her—and don’t hand me the line that you’re not psychic. You don’t have to be psychic to think very loudly. You’re not recruiting her, Jones. She’s just a kid.”

His eyes bulged in his face, and with a sulk, Taige let go and watched as he sucked in harsh, desperate gasps of air. “She won’t always be a child, Taige.”

“Maybe not, but for as long as she can, she’s going to stay that way. And even when she’s not a child, you’re not coming after her the way you came after me.”

Smoothing a hand down his dark gray suit, Taylor gave her an arrogant grin. He’d recovered fast enough, but that was Taylor Jones for you. The man was a born politician, even if he hadn’t made those forays yet; he landed on his feet like a damn cat. “And if she decides she wants what I can offer?”

“A stressful, heartbreaking job?” she asked sarcastically. “Oh, however could she pass that up?”

Jones looked at her. For once, he dropped his company face, and she saw the intensity that she’d always suspected lurked under his surface. “The chance to use that gift to help mankind. Like you’ve done.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Without even seeing it, she already knew what it was. The letter she’d sent to him telling him that she no longer wished to work for him in any way, formal or informal. “I don’t care what this letter says, Taige. It’s a compulsion, my dear. You can’t help it; you
need
to help. She won’t be any different.”

Taige wasn’t making any bets on that one way or the other, because she suspected he just might be right. “Regardless, it will be her choice.”

“She’s going to need help with her gift.”

“Nothing that I can’t handle.” She heard a knock at the door, and when the door opened, and the wedding coordinator peeked inside, Taige breathed out a sigh of relief. A good reason to get the hell away from Jones before she punched him.

“It’s time!” The woman—Taige had forgotten her name—bustled inside and circled around Taige, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Taige’s gaze cut back to Taylor’s face. “You pull a stunt like that around Jillian again, Jones, and you and me are going to go a couple rounds.” With a mean smile, she said, “You’ve been riding a desk awhile now. You really don’t want to go one on one with me.” Lowering her voice, she leaned in and whispered, “I do fight dirty . . .” She reiterated her words with one hard, psychic surge that closed ever so briefly around Jones’s throat.

Pulling back, she gave the wedding coordinator a wide smile. The woman had finally picked up on the tension between Taige and Jones, and her smile slipped a notch or two. “Is everything all right, dear?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jones reach up, rub his throat. He eyed her with just a little bit of wariness. Looking back at the wedding coordinator with a smug smile, she said, “It is now.”

Watching as the two women left the room, Jones swallowed, and the resulting pain was enough to have him swearing in fury. He bit it back, though, and just sighed, rocking on his heels and staring after Taige consideringly until she disappeared around a corner. She’d meant every word she said. Jones would have to be blind not to see the fierce protectiveness that had darkened her eyes.

He should have known she’d already comfortably settled into mama mode.

It was all right, though. Jillian’s gift was strong. No, he wasn’t a psychic, but he knew power. Jillian’s mind was trying to protect her, trying to shut the gift down. It wouldn’t work, though. And as long as Taige was around to control things if the girl’s control wasn’t up to snuff, he could wait.

He had plenty of time.

The boat was docked at a private marina just a mile down the highway from Cullen’s house. Just like the wedding, he’d handled the details of the wedding night on his own. Taige hadn’t much cared what they did, as long as she was with him, but she’d expected a hotel or some private little cabin.

Not this slick, sweet little number that had been decorated with flowers, rose petals, and huge swathes of some gauzy, wispy fabric. Discreet little lights cast a faint golden glow, and overhead, the stars sparkled like a thousand diamonds in the sky.

“We going anywhere, Captain?” she asked brightly. All of a sudden, she felt really nervous—and shy. Now how stupid was that? It wasn’t like they’d never been alone before. It wasn’t like they’d never had sex before—although they hadn’t ever done it on a boat.

They hadn’t been together at all since before Taige had gotten shot and Cullen had killed her uncle. The few weeks that followed, she’d been healing up from her injuries. Then when she’d tried to start anything between them, he’d pulled back. The first time, he had laughingly said that she had to make an honest man out of him.

She hadn’t taken him seriously and thought he was still worrying she wasn’t up to it. But then he’d presented her with an engagement ring that next night over a romantic little picnic on the beach. Well, it had been intended to be romantic, but then Jillian had shown up, Robert trailing after her with an apologetic smile.

Cullen had proposed to her with his daughter playing in the sand ten feet away and his father crouched in the surf hunting for shells. She’d said yes without hesitating, and then she’d leaned in with a suggestive whisper. But he’d told her no.

Now, she was damn nervous, and the longer he waited, the worse it was going to get. Romance, nice as it was, just wasn’t something she was comfortable with. But obviously Cullen didn’t have a problem with it, she mused as he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.

He moved her around to some unheard music, staring down at her like she was the only thing in his world. “You look nervous,” he said.

“Wow. You’re observant,” she said sarcastically and then she winced. “Sorry. I sound like such a bitch. I’m just . . .”

Cullen laughed and said, “Nervous?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he kissed her.

“Hmmmm . . . nervous about what?” she asked when he lifted his head a few minutes later. Not nervous at all, just very, very hungry. Lowering her gaze to his lips, she wiggled her hips a little and said, “You must be good for my state of mind. I feel a lot better now.”

He trailed a hand up her side, finding the hidden zipper in the side seam of her dress. “You’re getting ready to feel even better than that, I promise.”

“Better than this?” As he lowered his head to kiss her bare shoulder, she sighed dreamily. “Damn, does it get better than this?”

He tugged the zipper down and leaned back, watching as her dress fell to her waist, lingered on her hips for a second, and then fell the rest of the way to the deck. Under it, she wore nothing but a thong of ivory silk. The strapless bra the seamstress had tried to force her into had been sheer hell on her healing wounds, so she had gone without. The dress had been designed to work without a bra as well as with one, and Taige was much in favor of not wearing it.

His eyes slid down her face, fastening on her naked breasts. “A lot better,” he muttered hoarsely. “It just got a lot better for me, at least.” Bending his knees, he dipped down and slid an arm around her waist. When he straightened, her body weight was supported by the arm at her waist, and the hard length of him pressed against her front.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she whispered against his lips.

With a pained groan, he said, “Self-preservation. A wedding night should be romantic, right?”

Taige looked around at the flowers, the soft lights, the privacy of the beautiful little yacht. “I think you already hit the romance quota, Cullen. Besides . . . I don’t need romance. I only need you.”

His eyes flashed hot—so hot her skin seemed to sizzle.

Cullen stared down at her beautiful face and felt his heart clench. The sincerity in her eyes, the need that shook her voice, it was enough to lay a strong man low—and he wasn’t feeling particularly strong in that moment.

“I love you,” he muttered, sliding a hand up her naked back, over her neck, and then fisting it in her hair. His mouth covered hers as he carried her across the deck. He didn’t make it far, though. His hands in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, it wasn’t enough; he needed to be inside her body, inside her soul. Sinking to the deck, he took her with him. He lay down on his back and stared up at her. In the faint, golden light her skin gleamed. Her eyes met his, and a small, feline smile curled her lips as she straddled his hips and braced her weight with her hands on his chest.

The most perfect sight he’d ever seen in his life, Cullen knew. Until she reached up and pushed her hands through the sexy, tousled curls. Her breasts lifted with the movement, and Cullen’s mouth went dry. “I need you,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her torso, one stopping to cup her breast, the other curving over her neck and pulling her down to meet his lips.

“Then have me,” she sighed against his mouth.

It only took seconds to free his cock, seconds to lift her up and then push inside her, and it was still too long. She was soft, silky wet, and strong, wrapping around his cock like a silken glove, and he needed it to last. Forever.

With his hands on her hips, he rocked up into her. Her lips clung to his, but neither of them closed their eyes. This moment—they’d been waiting for it for years, their entire lives, it seemed. Closing their eyes meant missing out on something, a sigh, a flutter of lashes—anything. Nothing could be missed, not then.

So they watched each other as they made love, Taige riding him while he filled his hands with the sweet curve of her ass, her hips, her breasts. Everything that he could touch, he touched. Every part of her that he could taste without breaking contact, he tasted.

Like any perfect moment in life, the ending came rushing up way too soon, and Cullen gritted his teeth, tried to hold back. He could feel how close she was to coming, but still, he didn’t want this first time over with so fast. His body, though, and his heart, they had other plans.

Sliding his hand between her thighs, Cullen touched her, traced the skin of her pussy where she was stretched so tight around him, then her clit. At the first touch on that hard little bud, she moaned. “Come for me, baby—I don’t want come alone,” he whispered, staring at her face, even though the sight of her hovering on the brink was almost more than he could handle.

She screamed out his name and came, hard, fast—once—then, as he bucked under her and started to drive upward, shuttling his cock in and out in hard, rapid succession, she came again. That time, they fell together.

And when it ended, they remained sprawled on the deck in the cooling night air, wrapped in each other’s arms, together. A faint smile curved his lips as he stared up at the night sky.

Turning his head, he kissed her temple. “I’ve been waiting for just this. Seems like I’ve been waiting for it my whole life.”

“Hmmmm . . . me, too.” She lifted her head just an inch and gave him a smile that damn near stopped his heart. Happiness and satisfaction gleamed in her eyes, and she whispered in a teasing voice, “It’s a good thing I’m a patient woman.”

Cullen laughed. “Patient, my ass.”

“Okay. Maybe not.” Then she squirmed a little, pulling an arm free. Cullen groaned in disappointment, but she reached up, touching her finger to his lips. “Maybe I’m not patient. But you were worth waiting for. You made me whole again, Cullen.”

Kissing her finger, he whispered, “No. We made each other whole.”