Chapter Twelve
The rise to Deacon’s penthouse only took a short moment.
When the elevator doors opened, the opulence of the foyer surprised her.
Beautiful gold marbling framed with the typical meander motif popular in Greek design.
Etruscan vases depicting scenes of Greek life painted in various colors, framed with friezes.
Mythological motifs made her smile, with her favorite being the minotaur in a maze.
He placed his thumb on a lock-scan, and then entered a pin on the keyboard before the door unlocked.
The moment she stepped inside, she felt like she had stepped into a palace, not knowing what to look at first. She honestly didn’t know such places existed in real life.
From the Versailles parquet flooring gleaming under the muted lights to the grand staircase leading to the second floor, the opulence could’ve been uncomfortably gaudy.
Yet the warm tones from the furniture and area rugs grounded the space.
It welcomed instead of rebuffed. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a gorgeous view of Central Park.
“Make yourself at home,” he said.
“I guess being a minotaur pays well,” she observed.
“Like you said. Using the curse to the best of my advantage.”
“So, what’s this idea you had?”
“Let’s get comfortable first,” he murmured.
A yawn hit her. “If I get too comfortable, I’m going to pass out.”
He smiled. “Noted. Come, let me show you to the spare bedroom. Later today we can go to your hotel and get your stuff.”
“Okay.”
He held out his hand, and she looked at it before slowly sliding her own into his grip.
“There’s no doubt the coyotes will alert Shiel to the fact we were there,” he said as they walked up the stairs. “She’s going to come after us.”
“Does that mean she’s going to hurt Peter?”
“It’s possible. She might use him to lure you out.”
“Me? Not you?”
“I’m bound to the Park,” he replied. “She doesn’t have to try hard to find me.”
Marion had to give that to him. “What can we do?”
The second floor had a huge library, with cozy-looking wingback chairs and ottomans. Beautiful art hung on the walls, the colors and patterns vibrant. He led her to a room on the right and opened the door.
“You can have this bedroom.”
The walls were painted a sage green, with dark green carpet. “Thanks,” she said. “Tell me the plan, Deacon.”
“You are a very tenacious woman.”
“I am,” she agreed. “You never get far in life by being complacent.”
He nodded. “Trying to appeal to Shiel isn’t going to work. Like I said before, Komodo dragons have been known to eat people, and it seems she’s supplying to an open market.”
“That makes me sick,” she whispered, horrified. “How do we stop it? Who can we tell?”
“Marion,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “There’s no one to tell. Like I said, shifters aren’t governed by a unified authority, like the police or a judiciary system.”
“Are you saying we have to ignore this?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We have to blow the damn factory up.”
She blinked. “What?”
“And I happen to know a guy who has some explosives.”
The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. “I’m in.”
He grinned. “Thought you’d like my idea.”
“I admit you have some good ideas some of the time,” she teased.
As they stared at one another, the levity fell away.
The air between them electrified. His dark gaze captured her, piercing through her soul.
Deacon reached out and captured her hand, tugging her close.
She fell into him, placing her other palm on his chest. He slid his other hand through her hair, cupping the back of her neck to draw her closer.
Their breaths mingled. Everything about him was intoxicating.
Arousing. When he dipped his head, she met him halfway.
At first, their lips touched with the lightest of pressure, but it wasn’t enough.
When his tongue traced over the seam of her lips, she opened for him, and the kiss exploded through her body.
The world melted away. For the first time, she understood what the romance books described.
In that moment, her life changed. She knew, instinctively, that she would compare every kiss in the future to this one.
When they broke to suck in air, Deacon stared like he’d been struck by a lightning bolt.
Perhaps he was, because Marion figured she didn’t look all that different.
She licked her lips, trying to savor his flavor.
“I, ah, think I should say good night,” she whispered.
“Do you really want to?”
She opened her mouth, but closed it almost as fast. Denial dying upon her lips. “Perhaps it’s best.”
“Is it?”
“What do you want from me, Deacon?”
“I thought that was obvious,” he said. “Do you not feel how hard I am for you?”
Yes, she did. Her own body surged with lust at the thought he wanted her, but sanity threw a cold bucket of ice on her libido. Sleeping with him wouldn’t be very smart. They were completely different people, and she had no desire to be a notch on his bedpost.
“Good night, Deacon.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, but let her go and stepped back. “As you wish. See you in the morning.”
Watching him walk away, going into his bedroom and closing the door behind him, felt like a travesty. She wanted to go after him but reminded herself this was temporary. Once she found Peter she’d be going home.
Marion sighed and closed the door. In the bathroom she stared at herself in the mirror.
What the hell? It wasn’t like she was some virgin scared of the Big Bad Wolf .
.. er, minotaur. Growing up in a town of about a thousand people, in a community of farmers and manual labor workers, having sex was almost the only stimulation one could find.
So, why deny herself something she wanted?
The confusing thoughts stayed with her as she showered and then laid down.
Closing her eyes, she tried to rest. She was dog-tired, so why was she tossing and turning?
Her mind kept thinking about everything she’d discovered.
The whole world was now changed. She should be focusing on finding Peter and destroying the processing plant.
Marion shuddered with revulsion and questioned what had happened.
Should she have stayed at the plant? Demanded to see if they knew Peter?
Or at least, knew about him. What if he was there, and she missed him only by a moment?
What if he knew she had been there but walked away?
All of it haunted her.
Almost an hour later, she sat up, her body restless and her mind unable to relax. She needed something to force herself to go lax, and the only thing she could think of was an orgasm. And not one from her own hand.
“Fuck it,” she muttered. “Why am I saying no?”
Rising, she padded to the door, and when she opened it, Deacon stood in his doorway. They stared at one another for a long moment, then he held out his hand and she walked forward, taking it. He brought her into his room and closed the door.