Chapter 10
He wasn't sure he managed to work off the rage. He spent the time from the plane ride to the half hour from the airfield, doing breathing exercises and trying to concentrate on work. It did not work. He was so pissed he could barely sit still.
He arrived at the house when dusk was beginning to gather, the soft lights from the solar lamps glinting on the bushes and the flowers blooming everywhere.
It was coming to the end of summer, so the days were still long.
What a difference, he mused. In Ireland, the weather was already leaning toward chilly.
Irene met him at the door and silently took his case.
"She's sleeping. Woke up an hour ago and had some soup, a bit of bread and butter. That medication the doctor gave her knocked her right out again." She touched his arm lightly. "They will find the bastard."
"I hope they do before I get hold of him." He let go of the tight rein on his control and simply leaned against the wall. "I don't want her to see me like this." He breathed through his teeth and had the housekeeper dropping his case and wrapping her arms around him.
"Here, honey." She rubbed his back and held on. He held on for a few minutes, closing his eyes as the calm washed over him. "Just let it all out."
He held on for a minute more. "Thanks Irene."
The housekeeper patted his cheek, before kissing it. "You go right ahead and go be with your girl. I'll rustle up something for supper."
"I'll take that," he gestured to the case and she handed it over, watching as he hurried up the stairs. Pursing her lips, she turned towards the kitchen to prepare something filling.
Taking his case to the closet, he put it down carefully before making his way to the bed.
She was sleeping with her side towards him, hands folded under her cheek.
She had her hair braided just before he left for Ireland, claiming that she was tired of "that damn annoying hair stylist coming over every other day.
" It was the usual twists and coils that suited her so well.
Her lips were slightly parted and she looked so vulnerable.
He flexed his hands and tried to stop the tremors, before reaching out to touch her satiny cheek.
"Hi baby." He whispered hoarsely, lightly stroking her skin.
"I should let you sleep, but I just want to touch you, to make certain you're still here," he eased out a breath.
"I want to kill him for torturing us like this.
I promise to keep you safe." He smiled slightly.
"I'm being selfish about it. I cannot live without you.
Just the thought of it makes me want to die.
Christ! I love you so bloody damn much, that it makes me panic when I visualize someone hurting you. "
Bending, he kissed the tip of her nose, before easing back. He wanted to slip in beside her but resisted the urge.
Walking over to the sofa where he could keep an eye on her, he pulled out his phone and called Eric.
"Nothing so far. We're combing through the bastard's life and have come up with all sorts of weird things. Margo and the others are speculating that he killed his mother. There's no proof of course and he had her cremated."
"Christ Almighty! Who the hell are we dealing with?"
"A sick bastard. We have people going through his financials. We're bound to come up with something."
"Let me..." His voice tailed off when he detected movement from the bed. "I'll have to get back to you. Keep me posted."
"Got it."
When she whispered his name, he was off the sofa like a shot.
"Hey,"
"You're here."
"Of course I am." Lowering himself, he took her hand in his and studied her face. Thankfully, she looked rested.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For all of it," She felt weary and sick to her stomach. "They haven't caught him, have they?"
"No." He lifted her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes. "I was scared."
"I know. Can you lie with me for a bit?"
Toeing off his shoes, he slid in next to her. "I was going to take a shower."
"But you didn't want to leave me alone for the time it would take." She sighed and snuggled. "I should be mad at this feeling of helplessness, but I cannot drum up the energy."
He wrapped his arms around her gently, pulling her closer, as if trying to shield her from every lingering threat.
The silence between them was heavy, filled with unsaid words, but his steady heartbeat beneath her ear offered a fragile sense of comfort.
For a while, they simply lay there, finding solace in each other's presence, neither willing to let go of the fragile peace they had managed to reclaim.
He rubbed her back soothingly, stroking and feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin silk of her nightie. "Question?"
"Hmm?" Lifting her head, she met his gaze.
"I know that Eric was here with you, and he told me he carried you upstairs."
"And?" Her curious gaze had him shifting his eyes. "I was just wondering... uhm... were you able to undress yourself or..." His voice tailed off as she continued to stare at him.
"Of course, you wouldn't have allowed him to..." He stopped abruptly, a flush staining his cheeks.
She decided to have some fun with him.
"Did he tell you how shaken up I was?"
Guilt speared through him and had him feeling ashamed at where his thoughts were heading.
"Yes."
"And that I was trembling so much I couldn't take my shoes off?"
"No. I..."
"Of course he had to undress me." She kept her face straight even when his eyes flew to the wisp of black silk and lace she had on.
"He did?"
"Out of the goodness of his heart. I had blood on my clothes."
The guilt tripled. "I'm sure he just wanted to make you more comfortable." He could not stop the frown. "I'm just wondering if he was the one to pick this out." He touched the thin strap of her nightgown.
"He did, yes."
The frown turned ominous. "He couldn't have found something more, or less revealing?"
"He knew I wanted to look pretty for when you arrive."
His eyes narrowed to slits when he saw the light dancing in her eyes.
"That wasn't funny. I was just getting ready to go find him and beat the crap out of him."
She laughed huskily, the sound warming his heart. "He's much bigger than you."
"The way I was feeling that would not have mattered a hell of a lot." Tilting her face up, he rubbed his thumb over her full bottom lip. "You were torturing me. I kept seeing him with his eyes and hands on you."
"I know." Suddenly her expression changed, the smile disappearing.
"Kiara. No."
"You've been gone for almost a week." She slid a hand over his chest and started to unbutton his shirt. "I was shot at and was scared." One button and then another. "I needed you at that point. Needed to see you, touch you." His breathing increased when she got two more buttons undone.
Her words softened his resolve, the tension in his jaw easing as he placed his hand gently over hers, steadying her movements. The vulnerability in her eyes spoke volumes, and he found himself drawing her closer, the boundaries between them dissolving with each passing moment.
"I should... We should... Just wait" he clamped a hand on hers in desperation.
"Look." Sucking in a breath when she draped a bare thigh over his, he tried again. "Darling, the doctor said you should get some rest."
"I had plenty of rest." Inching her knee upwards, she slowly nudged at his sex and sent his blood pressure soaring. He knew without a doubt that he had lost the battle. His heart was drumming against his ribs, his body slowly heating.
"I need you. Now." Dragging her hand away from his, she pulled his zipper down. Reaching in, she found him hard, hot and throbbing.
Her eyes flew to his face as if wanting to see his reaction. His eyes went blank and blind, the blood draining from his head and leaving him feeling dizzy. She was circling a finger over the reddened tip that was already pooling with moisture.
Closing his eyes briefly, he took several breaths to steady the mad rush of desire that was already turning into a tsunami. When she climbed on top of him, he only had time to hold her steady as she straddled him, taking him in. He was still fully dressed, his shirt open all the way down.
"Baby, wait." He gritted his teeth when she rotated her hips, taking him even deeper inside her.
His control broke. Whipping the nightgown over her head, he reared up, to capture a nipple.
He did his best to slow things down, but it was not happening.
He was hungry for her. He wanted the taste of her more than he wanted to breathe.
Her scent, the taste and texture simply drove him to insanity. He wanted to devour her, swallow her whole and start all over again.
Kiara felt as if she was being tossed from side to side by a particularly violent wave. Everything inside her turned to jelly. His mouth on her nipple and him buried deep inside her was too much. She couldn't stand it. Throwing back her head, she found her release.
Even though she was expecting the power, the force of it, it took her by surprise. Heat poured through her body like molten lava. Her body spasmed, fingers digging first through the thick denseness of his hair, before moving to his shoulders.
Releasing her nipple, he clamped a hand at the back of her neck and seized her lips.
Sensations clamored through his body when she started to move.
A voice whispered faintly into his subconscious that he should take it easy, she was pregnant and with the trauma she just experienced, he should try and slow things down.
But his body had divorced itself from his mind and logical thinking went out the window.
Something snapped inside him, turning him into a wild animal, one that had lost control. This was his mate, his woman, the first one he had ever given his heart to. The only woman he would ever love. The one carrying his babies.