Gregori was an impressive figure. Shea watched him as he knelt beside Raven, his entire attention seemed to be concentrated on the woman lying so still. "Have you attended to Shea's injuries?" The soft inquiry startled Shea. He addressed Jacques, asking the male, as was his irritating way.
"The wounds are closing," Jacques assured him.
Rand drew Shea alone into the woods. He is the betrayer, healer. I walked away from him because he is linked to Shea. He could make her feel whatever I did to him. He is very dangerous. I cannot be the one to bring him to justice. Shea would never forgive me.
"Don't do that, Jacques," Shea said with a little bite in her voice. She was exasperated with him. "I know you're talking to Gregori. If you have something to say, say it out loud so that I can hear you. You think Rand is the vampire, don't you?"
The thought was in her mind also, and it made her feel disloyal. She knew something was wrong with Rand; perhaps Maggie's death had twisted his mind so he was living in the past. But something Rand had said in the course of their strange conversation was niggling at her brain. Something she couldn't put a finger on.
Gregori passed a hand over Raven's stomach, his fingers splayed wide. His touch lingered for a moment, a surprisingly tender gesture, then he turned to Shea. "Jacques knows his duty to you, Shea. This man, Rand, the one who is your birth father, was never in your life. Hold on to what is real, not to your childhood fantasies."
"You don't know the first thing about my childhood, fantasy or not," Shea snapped, goaded beyond endurance by his unruffled, superior attitude. Gregori definitely grated on her. She suspected it was because he was always using logic.
She was the one who was supposed to do that. "I have my own mind, Gregori, and it is a perfectly good one. Perhaps the first couple of times we met gave you a false impression. I am not a hysterical woman who runs at the first sign of danger. I don't faint at the sight of blood, and I can make my own decisions."
"If I gave you the idea that I thought those things of you, then I must apologize," Gregori said gently, courteously. "It is not my impression of you at all. You have much courage, and you are a natural healer, but you have little knowledge of our way of life. It takes much to maintain proper health. You have the human aversion to taking blood, as Raven does."
Her chin lifted. "I am well aware I have a problem in that area. In my own time I will deal with it. But there are other much more important things going on at the moment." Beside her Jacques stirred as if to protest, but he remained silent.
"That is where you are wrong. Nothing is more important," Gregori replied, his voice velvet soft, a whisper of power. "Your health is essential to every member of our race. You are a woman. You are able to create life within you. You represent hope to every male who has no lifemate."
"I have no intention of bringing a child into the world."
There was complete silence. Gregori turned the full force of his silver gaze onto her face. His eyes slashed and burned through every barrier until she felt as if he could see every secret in her soul. He let out his breath slowly. "I understand why you would feel this way now, Shea. What was done to you was an abomination. I see the pain in you at this decision. If you can find it in yourself to wait for Jacques to heal completely before you give up such an important dream, I believe you will find that our race loves and cherishes our children, knowing them for the treasures they are. It is the same way we feel about our women."
"Is that why Rand abandoned my mother? Is that why he allowed someone else to raise his own son? Or are only female children cherished by your race?"
Gregori sighed. "All of our children, male and female, are loved and protected, Shea. I do not understand Rand, I never have. At the moment I believe he is very dangerous, and something has to be done about him. In the meadow he set up wires murderous not only to our kind but to humans and animals as well. I spent some time dismantling his traps. He cannot be allowed to continue this mad behavior. You know it, you just do not want to face it."
"Just like that? You can pass judgment on him and not even know for certain? How can you be sure it's him?" Shea found herself twisting her fingers together, trying to find a way out for her father. She remembered all too vividly his breath on her neck, but she pushed the memory away quickly, feeling disloyal again.
"Because none of us felt his presence in the forest," Jacques answered her gently. A shadow in her mind, he could clearly see the conflict between her brain and her emotions. "Only you felt him, Shea. He was able to wake you despite my command to sleep. He deliberately lured you into the forest and tried to take your blood to strengthen his hold on you."
"Maybe he's ill. Maybe he's confused. He could have forced me. Why didn't he force me, Jacques? He certainly could have," she pointed out. "He's quite a bit stronger than me, and I felt as if I was in a dreamlike state. Why didn't he simply force me, if he's really a vampire?"
"Because a lifemate cannot be forced to choose. It must be a true choice. Otherwise a true bond is not formed. He knows that." Jacques reached out to her. "It is ingrained in him, imprinted before birth."
Shea stepped away from him, rubbed at her throbbing temples. "Why is everything with you people so darned complicated, Jacques? Nothing like this ever happened to me while I was human."
"You were half-human, Shea," Jacques reminded her gently, "and you know you were in danger even then. Your mother had the presence of mind to hide you from the fanatical society that was pursuing you."
Shea shivered and rubbed her arms to warm herself. "I just wish we could go somewhere, Jacques, and sort all this out. I need to find a way to forgive you for using me to kill those men."
Mikhail's form shimmered into solidity right before Shea's eyes, nearly stopping her heart. He smiled at her. "I must thank you for returning my love to me. Without her, my life would be worthless. You are a great asset to our people. It is unfortunate that you have been cast into our world without any preparation to make the transition easier. These are hard times for all of us." He touched her arm gently. "Please forgive us for using you to stop Slovensky and Wallace. We could not allow them to kill Raven or snatch you, as was their intention. Raven could not help us, so we turned to you. It was wrong to use you without your consent, but time did not allow the luxury of asking your permission. Your lifemate could do no other than protect your life, and from that distance it is impossible to do anything without seeing through another's eyes."
Mikhail was eloquent and sincere, and Shea could not be angry with him. She sighed and bit her lower lip. "I wish it hadn't happened that way, Mikhail, but I'm glad Raven is alive."
"I do not understand how those two humans were able to disguise their presence from us. I monitored Raven continually," Mikhail said. "The two of you should never have been in any danger. I scanned the surroundings; Gregori scanned, as did Jacques. A vampire might be able to confuse us, but certainly the humans could not."
"I, too, scanned." Raven stirred weakly, her voice a thin thread. "I detected no danger to us, yet Shea was uneasy and certain we were not alone almost from the beginning. I dismissed her fears, thinking her separation from Jacques the cause."
"It was only Shea who could detect the vampire in the woods," Jacques said.
Shea found herself the center of attention. Instinctively she moved toward Jacques. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his body protective toward hers. "I know you're all thinking it was Rand. I don't want it to be him. I want to have a family."
"You have a family," Mikhail said gently. "I am your family. Raven is your family. Our child will be, and of course you have Jacques. Someday you will have children." He sent a slight grin in Gregori's direction. "You can even claim the healer as family. We do, although he dislikes it intensely. We are together, and we are close. These past several days are not a real example of what our existence is like. We are under attack, and must defend ourselves. Most of the time our life is much like that of the human world. Do not judge us by recent days. These are exceptional times."
"Maybe Byron can tell us who betrayed him," Shea suggested desperately. "Can't we wait for what he has to say before we condemn Rand?" What was it that bothered her so much? And what was it Rand said had?
Jacques held her close. "No one wants it to be Rand, little red hair, and you can be assured no one will act without certain proof."
Shea knew he was seeking to reassure her, even as he believed implicitly that her father was the betrayer. Some part of her knew it to be true. Away from Rand, she was able to see things more clearly. He wasn't just a man confused and tormented by her mother's death. He could be a calculating, cold killer.
Shea closed her eyes, unable to face where her thoughts were going. Jacques could not be the one to take Rand's life. He just couldn't. Warmth flooded her mind, and his arm tightened protectively around her.
There is no need for me to hunt Rand should he prove to be the vampire preying on our people. The others can take care of it. We can go far from this place if that is your desire, my love.
If Rand was the vampire, the betrayer, Jacques would have more reason than anyone to want to ruthlessly destroy him. Yet she could not bear the idea.
Thank you, Jacques. I don't want you to be the one to take his life if it really comes to that. Let us go to Byron, and I will do as I promised. Then we will find a place to rest.
Shea nodded, her head brushing his chest. She could hear the reassuring beat of his heart, feel the heat in his body rising to meet hers. He was solid and real, and she owed it to both of them to take things slowly and make rational decisions. Right at this moment, Shea was not certain she was capable of such a thing. Her brilliant brain seemed to be malfunctioning lately.
"We go to Byron, healer - do you follow?" Jacques asked.
Gregori reluctantly left Raven to Mikhail. A woman could not be possibly be claimed before her eighteenth birthday.
Every moment of the healer's existence would be an endurance test, living in hell until the child came of age. He would hunt and feed and resist the kill unless he was called on to dispense justice. That would be the most dangerous of all times, walking away from the power of taking a life. And somewhere, close by, Rand was waiting.
As Gregori turned to follow Jacques and Shea, Mikhail stopped him. "Could the humans have found some kind of chemical to cloak their presence from us? If they have done so, we are all in grave danger, and we must move to meet this new threat."
"Anything is possible, but it is more likely the vampire is using a shadow spell. It is ancient and all but forgotten. I came across it in the lost book of Shallong. He buried it with his evil tokens in the mountain of souls. I thought no other had dared to travel there." Gregori glanced after Shea to assure himself she was out of hearing.
"It is entirely possible," Gregori continued, "even probable, that Rand rose more then seven years ago, found Shea's mother already dead, and turned. In his hatred he would blame you and Jacques. He could have studied the ancient arts and returned to lead Slovensky and his nephew to kill our people seven years ago. None of us knew he had risen, so he was never a suspect. Jacques thought he knew the betrayer, was close to him at one time. Rand was his family through Noelle."
"Do you believe Rand would have his own son tortured, mutilated?"
"Noelle's son, Mikhail. If Rand is as twisted as I suspect, he was the one who aided the humans in their murders seven years ago. We are all in danger, particularly Jacques. The only one who might escape death is Shea, and she would suffer greatly."
"He knows we will hunt him now. He will try to run."
Gregori shook his head. "No, he has worked too hard for revenge. This is hatred, Mikhail. He lives to kill, and we are the ones he must seek. He will stay here and continue to try to lure Shea to him."
"You will warn Jacques."
"There is no need. Jacques knows. He will keep Shea close to him. Jacques is dangerous, Mikhail. You persist in thinking him the younger brother you need to protect. He has grown to great power. Rand will underestimate him. He does not recognize the monster he himself created."
"I am not certain I like you referring to my brother as a monster." There was a trace of humor in Mikhail's voice.
"You should hear what I call you behind your back," Gregori said, even as his arms spread to accommodate the wings forming.
Mikhail's laughter echoed as the bird soared into the night sky.
The cave of healing was smaller than most of the other chambers in the maze of underground tunnels. The soil was rich, dark, and fertile. It smelled pleasant, with the aroma of herbs mixed with the natural fragrance of the earth. Shea's hand found Jacques' back pocket and slipped inside, a link between them as they surveyed the extent of Byron's injuries. Shea felt a helpless sense of deja vu. Smith and Wallace had not had as much time to torture him as they had Jacques, but nevertheless his body was blackened with burns and covered with cuts.
Shea found Jacques' hand, twisted her fingers in his, hardly daring to look at him. The sight of Byron's tortured body must bring back such hideous memories. She attempted to be cheerful. "Well, at least they're consistent in what kind of damage they do. So we know I can help him, based on past experience."
Jacques did not want her touching the other man. The emotion was sharp and ugly and overwhelming.
Loathing himself, Jacques took a deep breath and let it out, instinctively placing his large frame between Byron and his lifemate.
Shea touched his face with gentle fingers. "What is it?" Her voice was so beautiful, so clear and cool and soothing, that Jacques wanted to cringe from the truth, ashamed, but he could not lie to her.
"I do not know. Only that I cannot bear for you to touch him. God, Shea, I hate myself for this, but you cannot." His hands cupped her face, his black eyes filled with sorrow. "You cannot do this."
"What do you think will happen if I touch this man? Do you believe Rand's stories now? Do you think you influenced me somehow, and our chemistry is not real?"
"I only know that if you touch this man, I will not be in control. The demon in me will rise, and my mind will shatter into so many fragments, I will never be able to put myself back together."
Shea could feel his loathing for his unreasonable jealousy, his fear that she would ignore his plea and something terrible would happen. She realized she still knew precious little of Carpathian ways, that Jacques was edgy and more animal than man at that moment. Her fingers curled around his arm, and she smiled up at him. "I guess we wait for the healer."
Jacques could feel the tension drain from his body. "It might be the best idea."
Shea reached up to trail her fingertips over his neck. The massage was suggestive and reassuring at the same time. He reacted by crushing her to him, his mouth hard and dominating as he captured hers. He kissed her possessively, his body as demanding as his mouth. "I need you right now, Shea. My body is going up in flames, and I hurt like hell. We have to be alone soon or I might die."
Her laughter was muffled against his chest. "No one has ever died because they wanted to make love." But she wasn't sure. Her own body was burning and begging for the connection to his.
Gregori suddenly materialized, made a soft, sighing noise, and sent them a clear frown. Like guilty children they broke apart.
The healer spoke. "He will be weak, Jacques. He may even attempt to resist you. He is close to turning and has been for some time. Tell him of Raven's child, of your belief that Shea might be able to provide a female child." Gregori gave the advice softly. "You must take control of him. I felt his resistance to our intervention."
Jacques nodded. He wished Shea away from Byron; and she moved to the end of the chamber, reading his mind. He sent her thanks and turned his attention to his former friend.
Shea watched him, feeling suddenly proud of him. He might not be able to bear her touching another man yet, but he didn't like himself very much for it. And she could sense his determination to save Byron. She knew he could not bring himself to lie to her in order to make himself look good in her eyes. He didn't try to hide his darker side from her but rather wanted her to find a way to love him in spite of it.
And she did. She might not understand, but she loved all of him. He didn't run from the things he had to do. He faced the demon in himself every day. It had all happened so fast, one thing after the other. Shea had taken a long time to assimilate all the information, but the one consistent thing was the way Jacques was with her. He was honest about everything, even his terrible need of her.
Byron groaned, bringing her attention to the men bending over him. Gregori was as still as a statue, his concentration completely on the ravaged body. Jacques was forcing his wrist to Byron's mouth. Shea's stomach lurched, but she didn't look away.
Byron resisted, his eyes imploring.
"You must take my blood. The women are safe; the trap you warned us of failed." Jacques' low voice seemed to be notes of music dancing in the air. Shea merged with him to increase his strength. She could feel Jacques' surprise as her will joined with his to force Byron's compliance.
"Mikhail's woman carries a female child," Jacques said softly. "Shea is from the human race and capable of providing female children. There is hope now for a future, Byron. We want you to join with us to find those human women of psychic ability our people need. You cannot throw your life away. What if, through our bond of friendship and blood, you are the lifemate to my daughter? What would become of our child? Take what is freely offered, old friend, and save yourself. You are strong. You will endure while we rebuild our race."
Byron looked into Jacques' black eyes for a long time, seeking something he evidently found. He closed his mouth over the offered wrist and drank willingly. For the first time, Shea did not find the act repulsive. There was something beautiful in the way Jacques gave his blood so freely to Byron. It was far more personal than the way humans donated blood.
Her body clenched with hot desire, and without thinking she bathed Jacques' mind in her heat. She saw his body hunch, as if someone had physically punched him. Guilt stirred for a moment, but then he was stroking her throat, his mental touch every bit as exciting in her state of arousal as his physical one.
Gregori straightened up slowly and inhaled sharply, turned to glare at Jacques.
Take your woman and find a place away from us.
You know how dangerous Carpathian men can be at such a time. See to your needs, Jacques. I have little memory of these parts. If you recall, our home was invaded, and the vampire knows where it is. Go deeper into the earth. The cave continues until you find the very core, the hot springs. You will be safe there. And alone. And Byron? He cannot speak. As yours was, his voice is paralyzed. I doubt if he can recall his betrayer. I will put him in the ground to heal. And I will seek out Rand. Our prince has passed sentence upon such a betrayer. Make no mistake
I will make certain he is the one before I destroy him.
Jacques reached down and touched Byron's shoulder. "Go to the sleep of our earth, Byron. I will return each day to see that you are fed and your wounds are healing. Do you trust me to do this?"
Byron nodded wearily and closed his eyes. He welcomed the solace of the healing earth. Already the blood was flowing through his veins, giving him strength to heal. He felt better knowing he had somehow warned the others of the trap the vampire had set. He had been used to lure the men away from the women. The vampire had even whispered to him of the plan to sacrifice Smith while Slovensky and his nephew killed Raven and took Shea. The earth opened, and his weightless body floated into the cradle. All around him the rich soil reached out for him, welcomed him. He gave himself up to sleep and earth.
Jacques nodded in a slight salute to Gregori and reached out to Shea. The moment his fingers closed around hers, the electricity arced sharply and cleanly between them. He pulled her out of the chamber and into the tunnel. To her horror, instead of going back up toward the forest, Jacques drew her down toward the very bowels of the earth. The tunnel was wide enough that they could walk together, but she didn't move fast enough to suit him. With every step he took, Jacques' body became tighter and more painful. His breath was corning in hoarse gasps. He swung her into his arms and raced down the tunnel's twists and turns.
"What are you doing, Jacques?" Half laughing, half concerned, Shea held on tightly, her slender arms around his neck.
"I am getting us to a place where we can be alone." He was decisive about it. He had wanted her for hours, for days, for a lifetime. He had to have her this minute.
Shea buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder, her body responding to the urgency in his voice, to his labored breathing and rapid heartbeat. Her mouth touched his pulse, her breath warming his skin. She felt him shiver with awareness and gently probed the spot with the tip of her tongue. "Mmm, you taste good."
"Damn it, Shea, I swear if you keep that up, we will not make it to the springs."
"I never heard of any springs," she murmured absently, stroking the beating pulse again, her teeth playfully nipping. Her mouth wandered farther up his neck to his ear.
"Hot springs. It is only a little way farther," he groaned, but he leaned his head toward her attentions.
Her hand slipped down the front of his shirt, played with his buttons, slowly sliding them open so that her palm could rest on his hot skin. "I think you're hot enough, Jacques," she whispered wickedly into his ear, caressing his earlobe with her tongue. "I know I am."
He stopped, leaned against the curved wall, and allowed her feet to touch the ground. There were no words to describe the hunger, the urgency of his body, or the chaos of his mind. He bent over her, forcing her slender body backward as he took control of her mouth. His hand spanned her throat, tipping up her chin for better access.
Shea experienced a curious shifting of the earth beneath her feet. Colors whirled in her head, and flames licked at her body. She could hardly bear the feel of clothes against her sensitive skin. Her breasts swelled and ached, her nipples pushing into the material covering them.
Jacques was on fire, his jeans so tight, he could no longer breathe. He tore at them, freed his body from the restrictive fabric and ripped at the cotton covering hers. "I have to have you right now, Shea," he said hoarsely. His hands were everywhere, cupping her firm breasts, his thumbs caressing, arousing, bringing her nipples to peaks of temptation.
His teeth scraped the vulnerable line of her throat, followed the path lower to the creamy swell of her breasts. At Shea's quick indrawn breath he feasted, hungry and aching with need. His hands bit into her small waist as he held her still. Her cotton top gaped open, giving him glimpses of her narrow ribcage. She was making little wild, husky noises that only added to his frenzy.
"You're out of control, wild man," Shea whispered softly, her hands urging him on. They were a living flame, heating the very air around them.
Jacques yanked at her jeans, dragged her to the ground, his body covering hers as he did so. "You think?" His hands pinned her hips, lifted her so that he could drive forward, burying himself deep. The pleasure was somewhere between exquisite and pain, relief and pure joy. She was so hot and ready, clenching at him, surrounding him with fiery velvet. He felt her mouth against the heavy muscles of his chest, her breath, her soft little murmur of wonder. His body tightened in response, moved faster and deeper. White-hot heat spread, piercing pain that moved to sweet ecstasy as her teeth found his pulse. He flowed into her; sensual and spicy, his body taking possession of hers in the dominant way of his kind. Wild. Hungry. Urgent.
He moved slower, faster, deep and shallow. They connected in every way, their hearts and souls flying free. He never wanted to leave her body, a haven of pleasure that would last an eternity. His heart was pounding, his brain whirling with erotic indulgence. His fangs exploded into his mouth, needing all of her. Even as she fed, he bent his dark head and took possession of her neck.
Shea cried out as his teeth sank deep, as his body surged into hers, as the friction grew and colors danced. Her tongue stroked across his chest, and she caught at him for an anchor as he took them soaring into the night. Jacques' arms wrapped her tightly, his body penetrated hers deeply, his muscles welded to hers so perfectly, minds and hearts met like halves of the same whole. It was impossible to tell where one started and the other left off.
He caught her mouth in his, sharing their life force as they fell over the edge and tumbled through time and space.
Shea lay spent in his arms, aware of nothing but the beauty and peace of their surroundings. The earth beneath her felt welcoming and soft, the curving tunnel above like a sanctuary for them. Jacques' body, muscled and hard, was a welcome anchor in the turbulent storm of their lovemaking. For once, her hunger was sated. In the heat of the moment she had fed well, taking what Jacques so freely offered. She realized this was what he had meant when he told her that there were ways to get around her dislike of their feeding habits. She brushed a hand lovingly over the well-defined muscles of his back, inhaled their combined scents. For the first time in days, she felt real peace.
Jacques held her close, grateful that the urgency and painful ache had left his body. He lifted his head and stroked back her hair in a tender caress. "We did not make it to the pools."
"What pools?"
Her voice was drowsy and sensual from his lovemaking. His heart turned over, and his body tightened in anticipation. "The tunnel leads to hot springs, a beautiful spot where we can rest for a time. I was taking you there when you seduced me."
Shea laughed softly. "Is that what I did? If all it takes is opening your shirt, we're in for a wild time together."
Jacques nuzzled the warmth of her neck, lazily slid his attentions lower to the invitation of her full breasts. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
"No, but you can tell me if you want," she encouraged, circling his neck with her slender arms. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling he was inducing with his tongue caressing her nipple.
"I do love you." He said it suddenly, raising his head so his black eyes could meet her startled green ones. "I mean it, Shea. I do not just need you, I love you. I know everything about you, I have been in your head, shared your memories, shared your dreams and your ideas. I know you think I need you and that is why I am with you, but it is much more than that. I love you." He grinned unexpectedly, traced her lower lip with the tip of a finger. "What is more, I know you love me. You hide it from yourself, but I found it in a little corner, tucked away in your mind."
Shea stared up at the teasing smile on his face, then pushed at the solid wall of his chest. "You're making that up."
Jacques moved off her, then reached down to pull her to her feet. His clothes were scattered everywhere, and he made no move to retrieve them. Shea's shirt was still hanging open, and her jeans were down around her ankles. Blushing, she pulled them up. His hands stayed hers, preventing her from fastening them. "Do not bother, Shea. The pools are just ahead." He walked a few feet, then looked back over his shoulder. "I did not make it up, and I know you are staring at my backside."
Shea tossed her mane of red hair so that it flew in all directions. "Any woman in her right mind would stare at your particular backside, so you don't need to add that to your arrogant list of virtues. And stay out of my mind unless you're invited." She was staring, but she couldn't help it. He was so beautifully masculine.
Jacques reached behind him and captured her hand, lacing their fingers together. "But I find the most interesting things in your mind, my love. Things you do not have any intention of telling me."
Shea could hear a sound now. Not the drip of water seeping from the earth into the tunnel, but a dull roar that began to boom louder with every step they took. She looked carefully around her, afraid the roof of the cave might come crashing down. Jacques tugged on her hand, urging her forward.
Around the next bend he ducked into a small entrance, and Shea reluctantly followed him. The moment she straightened again, the sight nearly took her breath away. The room was huge, with rock crystals lining the walls, sparkling in the steamy chamber. Pools tiered one another, separated only by symmetrical rock walls. Steam rose from the various pools, giving the chamber an ethereal appearance. A long, steady fall of frothy water tumbled down the far wall into the deepest pool. Large boulders and long, flat rocks divided the pools, forming natural berths for sitting or lying down.
Shea stared at the underground paradise in awe. "This is so beautiful. How come no one knows about it?"
Jacques laughed softly. "You mean humans?" He turned to her, cupped the back of her neck, and bent to take possession of her mouth because he had to do it. She was far too tempting with her disheveled clothes, wild hair, and look of bemusement.
Shea's body instantly went pliant and soft, melding with his harder, more muscular frame. Her mouth was hot and inviting, her breasts pressing into his bare stomach. Jacques lifted his head, his thumb trailing over her lip, her throat, to the tip of her right breast. "These caves are deep and go on for miles. It is easy to get lost and simply disappear. Few humans come near this place. It has a reputation of being dangerous." His hand caressed her soft skin. "Take off your jeans."
She smiled up at him. "I can see it is dangerous. Now, why would I want to do something that is obviously going to get me in big trouble?"
His hand stroked her waist, traced each rib under her satin skin. He could feel her tremble in answer.
"Because I want you to. Because you want to please me."
Shea laughed out loud, her eyebrows winging upward. "Oh, really? That's what I want to do?" He nodded solemnly. "Above all else."
She moved away from him, deliberately enticing him. "I see. I didn't know that. Thank you for pointing it out."
"You are welcome," he countered gravely, his eyes following her every movement. Shea was graceful and seductive, a siren beckoning him to follow. His body stirred, and ruefully he decided the pools might be a safer place to watch her. He entered the nearest hot springs, wincing as the bubbles added to the sensation of fingers stroking his sensitive skin.
Her taunting laughter followed him, brushing provocatively at his nerve endings with the very tip of a flame. Shea felt an unexpected rush of power. Jacques was such an invincible being, yet she could see his body trembling, hear his heart beating even over the roar of the falls. All for her. Deliberately she slid her jeans low, exposing her slender body, the fiery red triangle beckoning him, teasing him. Her shirt floated to the ground, and she lifted her arms skyward, a seductress tempting the heavens.
Jacques' body tightened in anticipation. His black gaze didn't miss one graceful sway, not one rhythmic movement of her shapely form. Shea waded into the pool slowly, allowed the bubbling water to lap at her body like a sensuous tongue. She moved out into the middle of the water and finally slipped under the surface like a sleek, gleaming otter. Jacques sat on the edge of a rock, his legs under the water, bubbles lapping around his hips. He watched her swim toward him, away, her body flashing in the water, breaking the surface, disappearing once again.
Shea's head emerged, her green eyes enormous as they moved over his body. He was utterly still, as if carved from the very stone itself. His muscles were etched and defined, and his body was ready and aggressive. A small smile touched the corners of her mouth. She swam toward him slowly. "So you think I want to please you."
"Definitely." The word came out a low growl. He was finding it hard to breathe.
She smiled at him, a sexy, provocative, very feminine promise. "You're right, I do want to please you. But how do I know you haven't done your hypnotic thing on me, and it's all your idea, not mine?"
He had to reach for his voice, and when he found it, it was gravel.
"I would not mind hypnotizing you to do my bidding, but somehow I think you can please me without such help." He was finding it difficult to think straight, his mind a cloud of erotic desire. Water lapped at his hips as she moved closer.
Her breasts brushed his legs, sending ripples of fire through his bloodstream. She pushed against his knees so that he was forced to open them to accommodate her. Her chin nudged his lap. "I have to think of the best way I might please you. You have all sorts of interesting ideas running around in your head. I need to find the best one, don't you think?" Her breath was warm silk, breathing more life into his rigid body. Her tongue caught a drop of water, savored it.
Jacques groaned at the pleasure shooting through him. His legs circled her naked body, drawing her close so that her soft mouth was level with the throbbing velvet tip thrusting toward her. Deliberately he inched his body forward. Bubbles frothed and burst around him; her hair washed over his legs, tangled around him, weaving them closer together. He found he was holding his breath, no longer able to get air.
The touch of her mouth was like hot silk. Jacques' mind seemed to dissolve, his body trembled, and his heart exploded in his chest. He felt as if his very insides were coming apart. His body was no longer his own, no longer under his control. Shea was playing him like a musical instrument, all throbbing notes and building passion. He could only watch her helplessly, ensnared in her web of beauty and love.
He caught her head in his hands, bunching wet hair in his fists. No one, nothing, in all the long centuries had prepared him for the intensity of emotion she brought out in him. He knew what it meant to know he would gladly die for someone.
Jacques' thumb raised her chin so that her green eyes met his black gaze, so that she could easily see into his soul. For all his faults, for all his clumsy handling of their relationship, she had to see what he really felt inside. He lifted her easily into his arms, holding her close, holding her with exquisite tenderness, cradling her with leashed strength, wanting her to be sheltered for all time within his heart.
His mouth moved over her satin skin collecting little beads of water. "Love me back, Shea, love me like this. You are the air I breathe. Do not be afraid of this." His hands shaped her slender form to the hardness of his, caressed every line of her body, found every secret shadow and hollow.
As he lifted her closer, water poured from her body onto his, hot and steamy. Her mouth was at his throat - small, loving kisses designed to drive him wild. He was gentle and tender this time, taking his time, enjoying his ability to touch her, to take her whenever they wanted, however they wanted. Water splashed up all around them; bubbles frothed and burst. Steam enveloped them, wrapping their bodies like a blanket.
Jacques stroked back her bright hair, kissed her eyelids, her high cheekbones, the corners of her mouth. Every inch of her was his, and he worshipped it tenderly. When at last his body took possession of hers, her eyes held the same message as his, her soul branded forever with his name, his touch.
