Trefoil (19 page)

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Lillian descended the staircase bundled in layers, thick boots and wearing a down puffer coat. Somehow the concealment of her pin-up girl curves drove Nathan more wild than if she’d been wearing tight ski pants. He passed a hand over his face, giving an internal groan.

Will had arranged a ski trip for everyone to take a break from the Fundraiser Ball preparations. Nathan had suspected the day would hold much torment, as John LeClair was going along, but the sight of Lillian in the layers he was all too eager to peel off was almost too much to bear.

Oh, my God. What are you doing to me, woman?

Her eyes snapped to his.
What do you mean?

Accustomed to seeing her in skirts and dresses, her quilted appearance sent erotic images dancing through his head. His cock jumped to attention.

A slow smile broke over her features as she realized where his thoughts were heading, and Nathan’s gaze devoured it. Too soon John LeClair would steal her away and Nathan would be forced to keep his distance. But John LeClair couldn’t stop him and Lillian from sharing their minds and souls. He brightened.

Before he thought better of it, he lifted her into his arms and disappeared into the cloakroom with her. He shoved her against the wall and scraped her face with his beard, marking her, claiming her. Her head fell back, inviting more.

He licked the sensitive area behind her ear and took the lobe between his teeth, worrying it back and forth. She pulled her breath sharply through her teeth as her arms spiraled about his waist, bringing her in contact with his immortal tattoo.

The shock tore through them, giving him a raging hard-on and making her nipples as stiff as pearls.

“Nate,” she gasped. He brought his mouth down on hers. She was toothpaste and lavender and a fine sweat raised by him.

“You’re delicious,” he growled, hands roaming from her waist to the swells of her breasts. He pinched her taut nipples, slowly increasing the pressure until she sagged against him.

He’s coming.

The hairs on Nathan’s neck lifted and that infernal itch rolled over him. He released her and watched her sashay from the cloakroom, jamming a black ski cap over her loose hair. He scrubbed an unsteady hand over his face.

The group split into two vehicles for the drive to the ski slope, and Nathan silently steamed as Lillian was bundled into the backseat of Will’s SUV with John LeClair. The feel of her was still on his lips. He licked them to get more.

If he felt he could let her out of his sight, he would have bowed out of this trip. He’d spent a lot of time skiing with his friends, but he would prefer to return to his farmhouse for an afternoon. He missed his workroom and the small wood fire he built in the corner to ward off the chill. He longed to see the fresh, thick snow on the fields like icing on a cake.

But he wouldn’t leave Lillian behind. He wanted her with him.

That morning, when Will suggested they go skiing, everyone had jumped at the chance except Lillian. She sat chewing her lip, shoving her favorite scrambled eggs around her plate with a spoon.

“What’s the matter, Lil?” Will asked, tossing a bagel at her.

“I can’t ski.”

“That’s no problem. You’re looking at a professional ski instructor.”

She glanced sidelong at Nathan, then back to Will. “Professional?”

“Yep,” he said with a popping sound. “I taught Maria and Dante, though it almost killed me. Dante has sea legs, but it took him a decade to master the skis. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Now, Nathan wasn’t so sure he could. From the refuge of a knot of people on the crowded ski slope, he watched Lillian slide two feet and then dive into the powder. Her skis crossed and stuck up ridiculously, but Nathan winced at the sight of her twelfth fall.

John LeClair seemed to be losing interest in Lillian’s lesson in getting off the ground, and as Will launched her to her feet, she waved John away with Dante and Maria.

Nathan made a small sound in his chest and pushed off. In a moment, he was at her side, clasping her blue mitten. He bent over her. “Are you all right?”

She brushed a strand of wet hair from her mouth. “Will, you can’t save me. I’m worse than Dante. Why don’t you let my butt rest and go do your advanced skiing? Nathan and I will go to the lodge and have a drink.”

Will said to Nathan, “Take care of her.”

He grunted. “The first thing I’ll do is get these boards off her feet.” Lillian steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder as he bent to un-strap the skis. He anchored her to his side and they trudged uphill to the lodge.

The interior was steamy compared to the frigid temperatures outside, old and cozy with roaring fires and a tall walnut bar, where Nathan stood to get them a drink. “Do you want hot chocolate or something harder?”

“Is it too early for whiskey?”

He laughed. “Who cares?”

He bought her a double, neat, the way she liked, and they commandeered a loveseat before one of several fireplaces. Nathan set aside his drink and reached for Lillian’s hat. He dragged it from her head and threaded his fingers into the mass of dark hair. She quivered at his touch. “God, I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he rumbled and kissed her.

The intensity of this kiss was altogether different. Her mouth parted beneath his and he explored the hot depths with his tongue, raising a moan from her. The sound reverberated in him, building a fire in their souls. She clutched his head, breasts crushed to his chest. Wild.

Unable to control his need another minute, he flipped her beneath him, her ass cupped in his hands. “In two hundred years, I’ve never wanted anything so much,” he growled.

One lean leg circled his hip and he rubbed against her intimately. “Then do it, Nate. Let’s get a room. Please,” she begged between vicious kisses. “Bind us. I need that blood medallion.”

He continued to ravage her, tugging on her lower lip with his teeth, biting the point of her chin, tongue flicking over the hollow of her throat. Finally, he registered her hot words. He leaned away to see the roiling sea of her gaze.

“I’ve got to stop.” He dropped his head to his hands, panting with frustration.

She gained her knees, facing him, sexy I-just-climbed-out-of-your-bed hair pooling about her. Her lips looked stung, still damp with his kisses.

His arm spun about her waist and the other caught her behind the knees, as he whipped her up and strode for the front desk. His heart was thumping so loudly, he couldn’t hear the desk clerk. Lust hummed through his veins, hot and silky with the assurance that she would be his in approximately five minutes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Will suddenly demanded at his elbow.

Nathan let Lillian slip to her feet but continued to hold her. They were shaking so hard, they held each other up.

“How could you let yourself get carried away like this? Christ, Nate, are you trying to kill her?”

Don’t listen to him. P—pure.

He grinned down at her.
Q—quintessential.

R—resplendent.

S—stellar.

T.
She licked her lower lip.
Tantalizing.

“Everyone is coming up to the lodge to have a drink. Leave Lillian to me,” Will said. “Fuck, where is her hat? It looks like you’ve spent the past hour kissing.”

Had it been that long? Nathan’s eyes shifted from her glowing face to his watch, shocked to see that Will was right. Where had the time gone? When he was with Lillian, they were sucked into a vortex of sensation and emotion. Nothing existed in the world except each other.

“Let me take her to the lounge. John is waiting for her there.”

The name fanned Nathan’s need—the need to have her now that leaped in his groin. His eyes slipped to the doorway, calculating the distance.

“I’ll come,” Lillian said, breaking the moment. Her fingers closed over Nathan’s forearm. Emotions warred on her features. The pull of John LeClair was equal to that of Nathan.

As this thought passed through his consciousness, her eyes flared. She shook her head and leaned close. “It’s not true, Nate.”

Will was pulling on her. “Let’s go. Do you want him to see you together? How much longer do you think we can keep up this ruse if you two are hurling yourselves into the flames?”

Will took Lillian’s hand and jerked her toward the lounge. Nathan watched her go, feeling sick with jealousy and disappointment. The shaking in the pit of his soul increased with each step away from him she took. At the doorway, she looked over one shoulder at him, and he read everything he needed to know from that expression.

The Fundraiser Ball was days away. He was determined to claim her. And John LeClair could go to hell.

Lillian carried a platter with slices of freshly made pie and a steaming pot of coffee into the drawing room where her friends were gathered. Maria and Will played chess together at a small table near the windows, and John sat with Dante at the poker table.

At her entrance, John looked up with a smile. Her heart turned over at the sight of his much loved and handsome face.

Nathan brushed past her, simmering with emotion. Their connection allowed him to feel every little nuance of her body, and therefore he knew every reaction she had to John.

She watched him throw himself onto a sofa near the bookcase.

“You cheat,” Maria yelled, her accent thicker than usual from her anger. Lillian pictured her as she’d once been—a Mayan princess, daughter of a king, descendant of warriors.

Will grinned at her. “You’re right. I did. But only because you were about to check me.”

Maria picked up the weighty metal rook and hurled it at his laughing face. Dante laughed at his wife’s success.

Maria stormed to the coffee pot and poured herself a mug of the aromatic brew. When she looked at Lillian, her face softened. “Thank you for bringing the tray,” she said.

Lillian nodded, eyes darting once again to Nathan. She hated being torn between him and John. But Nathan refused to leave the room, despite the torment he experienced. Where she was, he was.

She dished out slices of apple pie to everyone but Nathan, who refused.

“You’d better take the bigger slice,” John said, switching plates with her. “Vermont is stripping the flesh from you.”

Nathan’s head snapped up. Across the room, their eyes met.

That internal gong resounded through them. Lillian dropped her gaze, her stomach knotting. John’s chair screeched back and his dish slid across the table, nearly flying off the other side. Dante caught it and set his own aside, preparing to leap between the bodies of the men Lillian loved.

John’s knuckles cracked as his fists clenched, but Nathan returned to gazing at the fire. Her heart buckled, heaved. She swallowed the bite of apple pie on her fork. It felt like broken glass in her throat.

The other four immortals clustered about the poker table. Maria took up the deck of cards and shuffled them like a professional dealer, letting them ruffle up her arms, tipping them and flicking each into precise order.

John grinned. He loved being amongst those of his kind, otherwise Lillian knew he never would see past Nathan’s obvious infatuation with her. Still, two days ago John asked if she was ready to return to their Virginia home. At the idea, her heart had turned to ice. Somehow, she had managed to convince him to stay without arousing too much suspicion.

She watched Nathan lift a thick volume from the bookshelf and crack it open. His shoulders were stiff, his neck rigid in a pose half-turned to see her from the corner of his eye.

Around her, the poker game began, with Maria winning the first two hands. The third went to Dante. Will was carrying on good-naturedly, throwing in more cash and his gold-plated money clip. Maria twisted off a pearl ring and dropped it in the center. John upped his bet with his best tie pin.

Maria drew two cards, Dante three, Will one, and John kept his hand, waggling his brows at her. She twisted her hands in her lap, hating Nathan’s indifference. She craved contact with him, but when John was present, they avoided Calling to each other.

“I’m out,” Dante said, tossing down his cards with a laugh.

Maria folded next. Will and John stared at one another.

“Whattaya got, LeClair?” Will asked, stuffing the last bite of apple pie into his mouth.

“You first.”

With a wicked smile, Will laid down his cards in a fan shape. John threw down and dropped his head into his hands.

Maria made a hissing noise and Dante laughed out loud. Will’s grin was almost as big as his ego as he gathered the pot from the center of the table.

“What do you say about another game, John? Winner takes all.”

John groaned. From the refuge of his hands, he said, “I don’t have anything left.”

Lillian gathered the coffee mugs and placed them on the tray, preparing to carry them to the kitchen when she heard a gasp.

Spinning, she fixed her gaze on the loot in the middle of the poker table. Maria’s gold and diamond wristwatch gleamed around a wad of cash dropped by Will, Dante’s ruby cuff links and John’s silver wedding band.

Lillian blinked. John squeezed her shoulder and guided her ear to his lips. “I’ll never lose. Don’t worry.”

The shriek of a chair being drawn out made her look up as Nathan plunked down at the table. The bracket around his mouth, part tension, part amusement. “Deal me in,” he said.

She started to sputter nervously, asking about everyone’s pie. She had made it herself with Maria’s guidance. Did it have too much cinnamon? The cap of the spice jar had fallen off and she’d poured too much in, but Maria assured her it would taste fine.

“It was great, Lillian,” John said, dark eyes leveled on her.

“Does anyone need more coffee?”

A chorus of “no’s” rounded the table. She fidgeted with her own mug, spooning more sugar into it as she watched Maria slap down five cards for each player. The temperature seemed to rise in the room as John and Nathan faced each other. Nathan pulled out a fistful of cash and let it fall to the table. Next, he removed his own cuff links and wristwatch. Lastly, a silver pocket knife clinked as he dropped it.

Her heart flipped. That blade taunted her with its proximity.

Without lifting his eyes, he accepted his cards from Maria. Lillian’s fingers clung to the edge of the table as she looked between their faces. She could get into Nathan’s head and learn what cards he held, but honestly, she didn’t want to know and it wouldn’t help anyway.

Next to her, John shifted, bringing his thigh into contact with hers. She saw the hinge of Nathan’s jaw flutter as he ground his teeth. She could hear it, feel it deep in her core. His eyes traveled up her breasts and throat, but stopped short of her face. Then abruptly, they locked on the silver circlet in the pot. John’s ring. She closed her eyes.

“I’ll take four, Maria,” said Dante.

“I need four cards, too. You dealt me a bum hand,” Will said.

“One,” said Nathan.

John waved his hand, indicating he’d stay with the hand he'd been dealt.

Silence descended, with only the whir of the heater and the icy rain pattering the windows heard.

“I’m out,” Maria said. Her cards made a swishing noise as they hit the table.

“Me too,” Dante said. He leaned back in his chair and watched the scene unfold. Lillian wanted nothing more than to look away, but the metal objects that symbolized so much sat between them, appearing perversely harmless.

Will rasped the hair on his jaw with the backs of his knuckles, attention centered on his hand. “I think. . . I fold,” he drawled.

Beneath the table, Nathan’s foot bumped Lillian’s. She jumped. A bolt of warmth rushed to her pussy, making it contract. She wanted to slip off her shoe and wrap her foot around his leg. She wanted to feel him stroke the arch of her foot, probe the delicate bone of her ankle.

John looked over his cards at Nathan. He dark eyes fastened on him like a predator to its prey. He smiled knowingly.

Nathan lifted his eyes to John’s, raising a clawing itch deep in Lillian’s pores. It climbed her spine, the back of her neck, washed down each arm and resided in her fingers, which she rubbed together. Both men caught the itch, too. John’s knee bounced. Nathan’s eyelid twitched as the sensation rippled through him. His lips pressed into a firm line, but still his eyes did not waver from John’s.

Lillian bundled her loose hair into a fist and drew it off her face, hoping to alleviate the stinging feeling on her cheeks, temples and neck. John scraped his upper arm with one thumbnail. Nathan held completely still, though she knew his flesh was crawling too. John’s eyes skittered to the tabletop and to his ring. A drop of sweat formed on his brow and trickled free, coursing down his temple. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I’m done,” he said, dropping his cards and reaching for the ring.

Nathan jumped to his feet, hand clamped about John’s forearm. “That’s my pot.”

“I don’t give a damn. It’s my ring.”

“You shouldn’t have bet it.”

“John, don’t. Please. It’s only a ring. You can buy another.”

His head twisted to pierce her with his dark gaze. “Lily, it’s my wedding ring.”

She tugged his free arm. “Please.”

Nathan and John glared at each other for a never-ending moment. She felt that itch take hold once more, driving John over the edge. He tore his arm from Nathan’s grip, caught Lillian and forced her out the door.

As he rushed her through the corridors and up the stairs to their bedroom, he gave her instructions. “Get packed. We’re leaving for Virginia as soon as possible.”

Her feet faltered, and he pushed her in the spine, propelling her through the door with the shock of his touch on her immortal tattoo. “No.”

He stormed to the closet, located her bag and hurled it to the bed, where it fell open, ready to receive her belongings.

“I’m not leaving. I love this place. I love my friends.”

“Too bad. Now pack, Lillian,” he barked.

She winced at the change in his voice, at the blazing anger on his features. His eyes were hard and glittering. She straightened her back and planted her feet. “I’m not leaving. This is my home.”

He ripped open a drawer and grasped a handful of her bras and panties, throwing them into the suitcase. “I said get packed, Lillian,” he screamed. The cords stood out on his neck, a vein pulsing.

She burst into tears. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not leaving Vermont. I’m not going.”

“You’ll go where I go.”

“I love you, John, but I won’t do this.”

“Dammit, Lillian. What has come over you?”

“I love these people. They are my family. And yours too. You’ve become part of their world. You belong to the shipping empire Dante has created. I’m not leaving, and neither are you. You’re angry at yourself for losing your ring, but that’s your fault. You never should have bet in the first place.”

His head jerked aside. His chest worked with emotion.

“John.”

“You’re right,” he said grittily. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“I want to stay.”

He reached for her, drawing her to his chest. He stroked her hair. Beneath her ear, his heart thundered. As the anger left him, it slowed. “We’ll stay, Lillian.”

She threw her arms about his waist and hugged him tight. “You’ve made me so happy.”

“Your happiness is the most important thing in my life.”

She bit her tongue against the tears that appeared at his words. You’re a liar and a cheat, she thought. You don’t deserve one wonderful man, let alone two. But in the end, you’ve still got to choose.