Angel's Assassin (25 page)

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Authors: Laurel O'Donnell

Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #medieval romance, #laurel odonnell

BOOK: Angel's Assassin
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A trap? Did someone want him to follow her?
Had they taken Aurora to get to him? Damien’s jaw set with resolve,
his dark eyes flashed fire. No matter. He would find Aurora. No
matter what the cost.

 

***

 

Damien looked up at the sky. Drizzle splashed
his eyes, making him blink against the annoying mist. The sun was
low. He did not have a lot of time. Damien cursed silently. His
fist closed over the seven pieces of Aurora’s dress he had found.
He wanted to rush ahead. He had to find her. It took every ounce of
his will power to move slowly, thoroughly. There was not much
daylight left. He could not fail. It would mean Aurora’s death.

Damien’s stomach twisted tight. He closed his
eyes, bowing his head, willing his emotions deep into his soul. He
had no time for them. He had to be ruthless now. He had to become
what he truly was. An assassin tracking his prey.

Damien moved forward, through the forest. He
rounded a small rise slowly, moving carefully, his gaze on the
ground, scanning, constantly scanning and searching. He could not
afford to miss a thing.

He lifted his arm and his gaze to brush aside
a stray branch, and froze.

Ahead of him, a wall of rock blocked his way.
Trees and ivy and bushes covered the wall. He must have somehow
gone off the path. He cursed, knowing this one mistake could cost
Aurora her life.

Damien turned, but at that moment a ray of
sunlight escaped through the clouds and shone brightly on the wall
of rock. He paused. Something tingled up his spine. A warning. He
whirled back to the wall. His gaze scanned it quickly,
desperately.

Thick shadows lined the wall from the trees
around it. A leaf fell from one of the trees and Damien watched as
a small gust of wind twirled it around and around. It flew toward
the rock wall and then disappeared.

The darkness at that point was deep. There
were no shadows behind the bushes and trees before the wall.

A cave. It was a cave.

And then, the sun vanished.

 

Chapter Thirty

 

 

T
he rain
echoed through the cave as Damien stepped into the darkness, his
sword clutched tightly in his hand. A steady patter of drips
resonated throughout the dampness. Damien was soundless, a moving
shadow. His eyes darted every way, expecting anything.

Damien turned a corner and stopped dead in
his tracks. A shaft of light shone down into the cave through a
collapsed hole in the top. It was enough light for him to see what
was illuminated within its ray.

Aurora! Rain poured in through the hole,
drenching what little clothing she had on. Someone had stripped
away her beautiful blue velvet dress and left her in her white thin
chemise. Her head was bowed to her chest, hanging limply. Her long
hair was undone, hanging about her like wet vines of dull gold.

Damien’s breath caught in his throat and his
heart constricted in his chest. He marched toward her, even though
every instinct told him it was a trap. He didn’t give a damn.

He looked up to see a thick root extended
across the opening of the hole. A rope was attached to the root,
the ends wrapped around her delicate wrists, binding them tightly
together. His blade flashed and she was free, falling against him.
She moaned in his arms in cadence to his heart.

She was alive! Every fiber of his being
screamed out for joy. Damien held her close with his sword hand. He
tilted her head up to see she had been gagged with a piece of
cloth. He reached around behind her head, fumbling with the knot.
The gag fell from her lips. “Aurora,” he called quietly. His eyes
desperately searched her face, soaking her in, taking in every
curve, every line. There was a scratch on her cheek and when he
touched it, she moved her head away from him. Her lips were parched
and rough and the corners were dry and raw from the gag.

Damien brushed strands of hair from her
cheeks, back from her forehead, wishing she would open her eyes and
look at him. He had found her! She was in his arms. Safe. He
couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her lips, her forehead, her
cheeks. Again and again. He held her tight against him, promising
himself no one would ever harm her again.

And with that promise, came a primal urge for
vengeance. He would find who did this to her and…

She moaned and her eyes fluttered, her head
lulled forward and then back.

Damien caught her chin, calling softly,
“Aurora.”

Wearily, her eyes opened, drooped and then
reopened to focus on him. “Damien,” she whispered in a hoarse,
unsure voice.

He could not stop touching her, running his
knuckles over her cheeks, down her nape. Her skin was icy. Fear
touched him as he realized just how cold she was. She was limp in
his hold, trembling from cold. He had to get her warm. Damien’s
eyes searched the darkness.

She began to shake fiercely as he held
her.

Against one wall lay a mattress of hay with a
blanket over it and another blanket folded neatly on the bottom.
Bastard. Whoever did this to her will pay. Damien moved over to the
mattress and sat her down. He grabbed the blanket at the bottom of
the bed and draped it over her shoulders. She looked like a drowned
rat, barely able to hold her head up. The shivering seemed to
worsen. Her eyes rolled.

“Aurora,” Damien called in a stern voice.

She opened her drained eyes to look at him.
They were a pale reflection of the bright ones he remembered. He
took her bound hands and cut them free with his sword. He was
shocked to see the raw skin beneath the ropes. He angrily tossed
the rope aside and began to rub his hands over her arms, moving
them up and down her skin. The chemise was soaking wet and scraped
against his skin. The flimsy cloth would do little to warm her. He
knew her arms would be sore and stiff from supporting her weight
for so long, from being in the same position for neigh on three
days. But he was more concerned with getting her warm.

Aurora shook so badly, looking to him for
relief, that Damien was desperate to heat her. He pulled her onto
his lap, holding her tight against him, using his own warmth to
heat her. “You’ll be fine now, Aurora,” he reassured her in a
soothing voice. “The worst is over.”

Against his heart, he felt her trembling
lessen. He ran his hand over her wet hair, comforting her, needing
to touch her, to confirm she was in his arms, alive.

Aurora lifted her face to him. Her gaze swept
his with relief. “I knew you’d find me,” she whispered, teeth
chattering. She lifted trembling fingers to touch his cheek as if
she still could not believe he was real. “I knew you’d come.”

Damien took her shaking hand and tucked it
beneath the blanket. Her lips were battered, parched, and raw from
the gag. He tugged at one of the flasks he had brought, bringing it
from around his back where it hung over his shoulder. He quickly
uncorked it and dribbled a bit of ale on her lips, into her mouth.
She coughed as the liquid hit her parched throat, but she quickly
swallowed it and opened her mouth for more. Damien poured another
small amount of the amber liquid over her lips. She drank and he
gave her a little more. The dried, ragged look to her lips started
to fade as the moisture seeped into them. Damien could not resist
them any longer. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. His
arms tightened about her tiny body. Another day and she would have
been dead.

Aurora pulled back slightly to look into his
eyes.

Her eyes were an endless blue. Damien had
missed them terribly. He had missed her hope and her goodness. He
had missed the beauty and kindness she brought into his life. The
happiness. He offered her another small sip of ale and she drank
it, licking her lips as she finished swallowing.

He cupped her face with both of his hands. He
could look at her forever. He could drink in her beauty, her
innocence.

He had almost lost her.

She moved her head and her lips rubbed
against his in a slow, anguished thankful caress.

Damien let her explore his mouth for a
moment, relishing the feel of her. His lips tingled where she
touched them. He moved his face closer to hers, fully meeting her
mouth with his. He kissed her mouth open, easing his tongue into
her, finding hers waiting for his. It was such a sweet, innocent,
thankful kiss. A kiss of reassurance that was quickly heating him
to hardness. The intense relief he felt, the tortured longing for
her, mixed in a torrential tide of desire.

Again, Aurora brushed his face with slow
seeking fingertips as he kissed her, touching, exploring. He needed
to know she was all right, that she was not harmed. His hands
skimmed the sides of her body, beneath the blanket. She was soft,
supple, and wet. Damien could feel her breasts press against him.
Her glorious, marvelous breasts. Unable to resist her, he lifted a
hand and ran it over the outside swell.

He knew they should leave, but he could not
resist her. At her soft intake of breath, he became braver, running
fingers beneath her breast. Kneading, caressing the soft globe. He
had to move slowly, lest he frighten her. And frighten her was the
very last thing he wanted to do. He never wanted to frighten her.
He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to love her.

He pulled away from her kiss, startled by his
own thoughts. Love? But as he gazed down into her half opened eyes,
her trusting gaze, he saw himself reflected in her eyes. A good
man. A man of honor and conviction. A man worthy of her love. He
wanted desperately to be this man. To be good. He ducked his head,
taking her lips in desperation. He knew of all people, she was the
only one who could help him become this man.

He slid his hand to the nape of her neck and
pulled her closer into his kiss. His other hand reached beneath the
blanket to her perfectly rounded bottom to draw her tight against
him. Her hands moved up around his shoulders, through his hair.

Damien caressed her bottom. Her chemise was
so wet it felt as if this shred of clothing was not even there at
all. Her skin was no longer icy. Somewhere deep inside him, Damien
acknowledged her shaking had stopped.

He wanted to touch her all over. He wanted to
touch every spot of her being, including her soul. He ran his hand
over the front of her legs to just below the hem of her chemise at
her knees. He eased the garment up, his hand wide and possessive
over her smooth legs. Up over her skin, he moved his hand. Her
thigh was hot, and wet from the rain.

She sighed against him as his hand came to
the apex of her thighs. She relaxed in his hold, giving him free
reign over her body and mind. She wanted him to touch her. He
sensed that. But he knew if he did, he would not be able to stop.
It was what he wanted. He wanted to heat her body, to make her
groan for him. And make her understand what she wanted.

He hesitated, his hand halting its upward
progression. He knew, without a doubt, that he could do all he
desired with Aurora. She was his now. And yet, he paused.

He broke the kiss and pulled back, looking
down into her eyes. They were lidded with expectancy. She moved her
hips on his lap, causing his desire to flare again. But as he gazed
at her, her beautiful, innocent face, he knew he could never hurt
her. He realized he didn’t want to extinguish her goodness. He
wanted to be part of it. But his evil would contaminate her. He
removed his hand from her legs, easing her from his lap. He looked
away from her.

“Damien?” she called, confused, hurt.

Damien could not look at her. She was as
lovely as the sun on a warm day. And as painful to look at. “I
can’t do this, Aurora,” he admitted.

A heavy silence filled the cave, shattered
only by the dripping of the constant rain.

Damien chanced a glance at Aurora. The
confusion and hurt he saw glittering in her large eyes tore at his
heart, forcing him to continue. He lifted a hand to lightly stroke
her cheek. “I want you so badly.” He clenched his teeth and looked
away from her, dropping his hand to his side. He didn’t deserve
her. He didn’t deserve to even look upon her. But he could not
resist. He turned to gaze into her eyes. He wanted her to
understand. He wanted her to realize just what evil lay within
him.

His gaze swept her face, and even with that
small bit of invisible contact a deep longing filled him. “But you
are good. And pure. And absolutely beautiful.” His heart ached as
he took her face into his hands and said desperately, “I don’t want
you to change. I want you to always be innocent and lovely and…” He
felt an endless sadness inside of him.

She began to shake her head, but Damien
stilled her movement with a stern grip. “You don’t even know how
powerful your kindness is. I’ve been in darkness so long that I
thought you were a threat to me. To who I am. And you were. You
changed me without my even knowing it. God, Aurora, I want to be
good. I want to be… the person I see when you look at me.” He
released her and a savage growl tore through his body from his very
soul. “God help me, but I would do anything, anything to have just
an ounce of your integrity in my soul.”

“You already do,” Aurora whispered huskily.
She reached for him, taking his hand into hers.

He watched her tiny, white hand engulf his
large, callused dark one. She lifted it to her lips, pressing
kisses onto his fingertips. “You are everything to me, Damien,” she
whispered. “I would have you no other way.” She pressed his palm
against her breast. “Make me yours.”

Damien stared hard at her. “Do you understand
what you ask of me?”

“You once asked me to give you my soul. I
have only my body to give.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips
hard against his, easily parting his for her exploration.

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