Chapter Seventeen
He should be putting as much distance between them as possible. Instead, he followed her into her bedroom and stood by the bed where they’d made love while she set the alarm on her phone. After toeing off her canvas shoes, she climbed onto the mattress fully clothed and patted it.
He sat on the edge of the bed, more tired than he’d been in his entire life, and removed his boots, setting them aside. There was no outward sign—or nothing he could interpret given his current limitations—but the end was closing in on them. There was enough innate reaper in him to sense it.
He rubbed the back of his neck, searching his brain for a way out for them both. It was pointless. There was no way to stop what was coming. She was human. He was not. End of story.
“Come to bed.” She ran her hand up and down his spine, the action soothing, yet at the same time arousing. He hungered to touch her, to hold her, even if it was only as they slept.
Rather than tempt fate more than he already had, he kept his shirt and jeans on and stretched out beside her. She settled against him, her head nestled on his shoulder, as though they’d done it a hundred, no, a thousand times.
The yawn caught him by surprise. That was another first. “Are you comfortable?” While not seriously injured, her leg had to be bothering her. He hadn’t missed the way she’d winced as she’d moved around the kitchen.
Snuggling closer, she rested her hand on his stomach. He resented the cloth barrier between them. “It’s really not that bad. I’m tired, is all.”
And no wonder. The adrenaline dump alone was enough to sap her energy. Add in the lack of sleep and physical trauma on top of the emotional one, and it was a wonder she’d lasted as long as she had.
He kissed the top of her head and lightly ran his fingertips over her arm. “Try to nap.” As tired as he was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to close his eyes. Every second with Cilla was precious.
Whether he completed this assignment to his father’s satisfaction or not, he’d have eternity to indulge in introspection, to second-guess his every decision. Would he even remember Cilla a hundred years from now? A thousand?
Yes! The cry came from the depths of his soul, the certainty unequivocal. Cilla had left her mark on him. He was not the man he’d been. Whether it was for better or worse remained to be seen. The irony of it all was that she hadn’t been trying.
Soft puffs of breath feathered across his neck as her breathing slowed and she drifted off. If she could see into his mind and understand his mission, there’s no way she’d fall asleep beside him. No, she’d run screaming, cursing his name.
He’d been sent to oversee the most significant event in her life—her death. Confident, even cocky, he’d assumed he’d complete the job and go home. He’d done it many times before and never lost a moment’s sleep.
I’m an idiot. There was no escaping the truth. Nothing about this was easy. It was brutally hard. Why one life should matter more than the untold numbers he’d escorted to the afterlife, he couldn’t say, only that it did.
Maybe each reaping should leave its mark, but it didn’t. It was a job he’d done well—or believed he had. This assignment was proof his boss had a different viewpoint. While he’d accepted he’d never live up to his father’s expectations, he’d done the best he could.
He tightened his jaw until it ached. He’d given up needing or wanting acceptance years ago.
Or so he’d thought. The knot in his stomach and the roar in his head said otherwise.
The old man had always compared the three of them.
As the middle child, Alex had always been scrambling to live up to his older brother.
Samael was the apple of their father’s eye.
Or was he? He’d been given a similar assignment.
Maybe big brother wasn’t faring any better than he was.
Oddly enough, he wasn’t worried about Kieran.
The youngest of the brood, he’d always been more happy-go-lucky, at least outwardly.
But what the hell did Alex know? Apparently, not enough or he wouldn’t be in this situation.
He might never have met Cilla.
His arms tightened around her, as though the mere thought might cause her to vanish. Reapers didn’t have a destiny, not like humans. He might live among them but his very nature set him apart. He’d never allowed himself to become close to anyone.
Why now?
“You’re thinking too loud.” The low grumble made him smile.
He brushed a kiss over her forehead in apology. “Go back to sleep.”
She tilted her head back, her stunning green eyes filled with unasked questions. The scent of roses was faint beneath the antiseptic hospital scent that clung to her, but it was there. “You should try to rest.”
The concern in her eyes stripped him bare. He didn’t deserve her consideration. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I really wish you’d go stay at the local motel. Or you could call your brother. Maybe spend a few days with him.”
“And leave you alone? I don’t think so.” He toyed with a lock of her fiery hair, loving the way it looked against his olive-toned skin.
“Why do you care what happens to me? We’re practically strangers.” Her brows lowered, her confusion apparent.
“We’re more than strangers. I’ve kissed every freckle on your nose.”
She screwed up the nose in question. “They were the bane of my existence as a child, but I’ve learned to accept them.”
“They’re intriguing.” He shifted position until she was flat on her back and he was propped up beside her.
“All eight of them.” He kissed the tip of his finger and then placed it over the first freckle.
Then he did the same for the rest. “I’ve tasted your lips.
” Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over hers, barely grazing it.
He was playing with fire, but a part of him wanted to show her that he did indeed care.
He didn’t want her questioning that when the time came for him to step aside and allow her path to unfold.
“Alexiares.” The longing in the whisper of his name ignited a burning need inside him. His dick pressed against the placket of his jeans, hard and hot and ready.
“I know what you sound like when I’m buried deep inside you.” He was torturing them both when he had no intention of taking this any further.
The sound she made raised goose bumps on his arms. “That’s sex,” she moaned. “We’re not in a committed relationship. What’s in it for you?”
That was the one question he couldn’t answer, not honestly.
For one, it would violate the rules of the assignment.
If she knew the real reason he was there, it would change things.
And two, she wouldn’t believe him if he spoke the truth.
As much as humans claimed to believe in an afterlife, they were quick to disbelieve, even condemn, anything outside the norm.
Rather than try to concoct a believable lie, he deepened the kiss. Her tongue eagerly met his. Swallowing his guilt, he used everything he’d learned when they’d made love to bring her pleasure.
Gentle beams of sunshine bathed the room in light. They hadn’t shut the drapes and he was glad. She was a ray of sun, a fiery flame about to be doused for all-time. With a roar of pain, he ripped his mouth from hers and sat up on the side of the bed, face buried in his hands.
“Alex?” Scooting up beside him, she tentatively rested her hand on his back. “What’s wrong?”
He tilted his head back and gave a bitter laugh. “Everything.”
She flinched and her hand dropped away. “Maybe you’d rest better in your own room.”
It was doubtful he’d have another restful night for as long as he lived. Every time he lay down to sleep he’d remember her and this moment. He was being ripped in two, torn between the assignment that would decide the remainder of his eternal life and his growing feelings for Cilla.
Without a word, he grabbed his boots and left without a backward glance, not wanting to witness the confusion and emotional devastation he’d left in his wake.
…
Cilla glanced at the stairs before turning her attention back to the computer at the reception desk. She hadn’t slept a wink after Alex’s abrupt departure. After a half hour of tossing and turning, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, she’d given up, showered, and started her day.
She’d tried to connect with her lawyer, only to be told Barbara was out of town until Monday. Since Cilla’s appointment was Tuesday, she’d have to wait to speak with her in person. Until then, she’d concentrate on what she could control—running the inn.
There’d been no sign of Alex. As far as she could tell, he was still in his room. The door had been closed when she’d gone upstairs to do a last-minute check on the guest rooms. She hadn’t knocked.
And they say women are moody. One second he’d been kissing her, the next he’d practically run for the door. As much as she appreciated all he’d done for her, she didn’t need the extra headache. She had enough to contend with. Like why her guests hadn’t checked in yet.
She pulled up the reservations to double-check and blinked. Canceled. That couldn’t be right. And it wasn’t one booking, but both. Grabbing her phone, she called Rosa.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to come in to work?” Rosa’s concern touched her. Alex might run hot and cold with his feelings, but she had steadfast friends.
“I’m fine, but I do have a question about today’s reservations.”
“Two couples. Late check-ins.”
“That’s right. You didn’t take a cancelation?”
“What? No. Why?”
“Both are showing as canceled. Maybe it’s a software glitch. I’m going to contact them.”
“I’m sure that’s it. Let me know if you need me today.”
“I will. Thanks, Rosa.” Ending that call, she placed another to the first contact number. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lopez. This is Cilla Wainwright calling from Ivy House in Redemption. I’m calling about your check-in time today.”