Hope was there, sitting on his couch. She froze when she saw him, her eyes going wide with surprise.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. This was some kind of cruel joke. Someone had let her in so he’d have to suffer her loss all over again. Whoever that was would pay dearly.
“Tynan said my choices were to stay here with my memories or leave without them. He said I could share this suite with a roommate. I was waiting to meet her.”
“Her? He told me he’d found someone for you.”
She stood slowly, her movements graceful and sinuous. She was so beautiful his gaze was fixed, soaking in her loveliness.
Logan remembered every curve of her body. He remembered how she felt under his hand, the way she sucked in a breath and bit her bottom lip when he found her most sensitive spots, like the one at her nape and the small of her back.
His blood heated and he took a few steps to his left so that the recliner hid his erection. It was his shame that he couldn’t control himself around her, but it seemed beyond his ability.
She cocked her head to the side, unknowingly drawing attention to her neck. Her pulse beat there, strong and sure, and for the first time in three days, a knot of anxiety loosened up inside Logan’s chest. She was safe. Whole. At his side, where he wanted her most.
“Are you saying he was trying to fix me up with another guy?” she asked, irritation plain in her tone. “After that chauvinistic asshole Eric, I’m never trusting a Sanguinar’s opinion in men again.”
“I . . .” He trailed off, at a loss for how to respond. Of course Tynan would try to find her another mate. Whether he’d told her that was another story. “This is my suite.”
“You live here?” she asked, taking a small step toward him.
“Yes.”
A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “Did you know Tynan told me I could live here?”
“No.”
“And what do you think about the idea?”
“Idea?”
She came closer, skirting around the chair that he was using to shield his erection from her. “The idea of me staying here. Sleeping here.”
“Sleeping? Here?” His mind couldn’t quite grasp the concept. Why would Tynan have sent her here? He said he’d found a good match for her. That match couldn’t be Logan. He couldn’t give her children.
“Yes. Do you mind?”
Lack of oxygen made it hard to think. She’d been asking him something that he was sure was going to lead to Hope in his bed.
Ah, yes. Her staying here in his suite. Tynan had told her to stay here.
Did he mind? He’d never wanted anything more in his life. “No. Of course you’re welcome in my home.” That answer was going to cost him dearly as soon as she left. And she would. Logan could not allow himself any fantasies to the contrary. Hope’s blood was powerful and his people needed her and her children, even if it took them ten years to find a man she accepted as suitable.
The other corner of her mouth turned up, her smile becoming victorious. She reached up and looped her arms around his neck. After so many days without it, her touch was a balm to his skin.
He shivered against the sheer pleasure of her skin on his, closing his eyes to revel in the moment.
Logan’s phone rang. He fumbled for it like a lifeline, knowing that ringing had kept him from doing something disgraceful.
“She’s there, I presume,” said Tynan, his tone smug.
“Yes. Why? Why would you do this to me?”
“Because we both know that the root of a good match is happiness. You love her. Make her happy.”
“But I can’t—”
“Give her children. I know. We’ll make do. For now, enjoy her. Make her happy. You both deserve it. Besides, I can’t have her trying to kill anyone else. It’s not good for business.”
Logan didn’t know what to say. He’d never expected to be freed from his duty, free to love Hope the way he wanted to.
“You’re welcome,” said Tynan in the face of Logan’s silence. Then he hung up.
Hope took his phone, powered it off, and tossed it onto the chair. “We have some things to discuss.”
“As you wish.”
“You left me. I didn’t like it.”
“I’m sorry. Truly.”
“You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”
He touched her face. He couldn’t stand not to feel her skin against his fingertips for even one more second. “I did. I do. With all of my heart, such as it is.”
She pressed her hand to his chest. “I like your heart, such as it is.”
“It’s yours.”
“I know your duty is important to you, and I respect that. But Tynan said it doesn’t have to get in the way of us. Is that true? Because if it’s not, I’ll walk away right now and never bother you again.”
“No,” he hurried to say. “Don’t go. My duty is to my people, but perhaps that duty is best served by showing them that they, too, can find happiness like I have.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Hope nodded. “Good, because there’s something I want to show you—something Tynan doesn’t know.”
“What?”
She pulled his head down until his forehead touched hers. She placed his fingertips on her temples and covered them with her own hands. “My amnesia. It’s gone. I know who I am now and where I came from.”
Logan’s head flooded with images of a beautiful, alien place. Twin suns burned bright and the air was thick with moisture, making lush plants bloom all around. This wasn’t Earth. It wasn’t Athanasia. It was someplace new.
“Temprocia,” she whispered against his thoughts. “I was born here. Raised here.”
The image of a stunningly beautiful woman filled his head. She was ancient, but he wasn’t sure how he knew that. There were no signs of her age on her face, just a wisdom in her eyes and a confidence in her carriage.
“She sent me here. To save you, to save the humans. She knows the Solarc cursed you and that you’re dying. She knows your kind can never feel the sun, so she sent me to be your sunshine.”
“What are you?” he asked, unsure if he’d said the words aloud or not.
“Like you. Or at least like you should have been if the Solarc hadn’t cursed you. She said it wasn’t your fault, and that no child should have to pay for a decision their parents made.”
“You know about that?” he asked.
“I know that your father raped your mother and the Solarc banished you and cursed you to live in eternal darkness because of it. That’s why a Warden comes every time sunlight touches your skin. It’s the Solarc’s way of punishing you.”
“It wasn’t just my father. It was the fathers of all Sanguinar—powerful human men who invaded Athanasia, abducted women, and raped them. It was a premeditated act—one for which my grandfather the Solarc never forgave them.”
“He should have punished them, not you.”
“What better way to punish a father than to harm his child?” said Logan.
“And you’re still suffering for that mistake. Hundreds of years later.”
Not anymore. He wasn’t going to let the sins of his father ruin even one more day of his life. He had Hope now, and that was all the sunshine he’d ever need.
“How did you get here?” he asked.
“The Tyler building. There’s a Sentinel Stone in the basement. I was sent through that, alone.”
A Sentinel Stone left unattended? That could not stand. “We must go there and retrieve it, bring it to Dabyr where it can be guarded.”
“We will. Later. It’s been there a long time. It can wait there a while longer.”
“Are there more like you?” asked Logan.
“Maybe. If there are, they won’t know who they are. Their memories would have been stripped away to protect them from attack, the way mine were.”
“So you did allow your memories to be taken?”
“Yes. It was the only way to come here and fulfill my duty.”
“And what duty is that?”
“The same as yours,” she said. “Fighting the Synestryn. Protecting the humans.”
For the first time in a long time, Logan did not feel nearly so alone. He had Hope, which was more than he deserved.
He had to find a way to give his brothers the same gift she’d given him—the hope that his life would not always be one of pain and hunger. Surely, if there were others like her, there had to be some way to locate them.
“Is there any way we can identify these people?” he asked.
Hope shrugged. “I see auras—colors surrounding people that tell me about them. Maybe others like me see them, too.”
That explained the halos of color he’d seen while in her mind. “I don’t know how that’s going to help us find them.”
“I don’t, either. But I remember growing up with others like me—all different ages.”
“Maybe the Sentinel Stone in the Tyler building holds the key. We should go and investigate.”
“We will. Tomorrow. Tonight, there’s something I need to say.”
“What?”
“I love you, Logan.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed him, her lips soft and warm against his.
All thought of duty or responsibility fled, leaving Hope and her love for him burning bright at the center of his world. She was his refuge, his heart, and for as long as he held her in his arms, his life would be complete and perfect.
Read on for a sneak preview of
Shannon K. Butcher’s next novel,
RAZOR’S EDGE
Coming from Signet Eclipse in November 2011
C
atching a thief was easy. Catching a thief in the act was more of a challenge—one that made Roxanne Haught’s skin sizzle with eager anticipation.
The lavish retirement party was her idea, despite the fact that she’d never met the guest of honor. It was the perfect trap, complete with juicy bait her target would be unable to resist.
She mingled among the well-dressed partygoers, smiling and making small talk as she passed from one cluster of people to the next, waiting for the right time to strike.
Her client, Mr. Chord, had graciously opened his home for his friend’s party—something the middle-aged reclusive genius had never done before. Because of that, dozens of people had come here tonight, curious to get a peek into the executive’s estate.
Roxanne cared little about the details of the handcarved woodwork or the intricacies of the mosaic tile floor inlaid with semiprecious stones that seemed to delight many of the people here. She’d seen it all before. She was more interested in the number of exits on each floor and the location of the information she’d been hired to guard.
The stage was set. The party was in full swing. Mr. Chord had made sure that his newest employee, Mary Smith, knew that the plans for Chord Industries’ latest invention were being kept safe on his hard drive at home, away from any possible thieves at the office. That machine had no Internet or network connection, making hacking it from a remote location impossible. No copies were being stored elsewhere, not since the last fiasco. If someone wanted that information, the only way to get it was by breaking into his home office.
He was being extra careful this time. Too bad for Mary Smith that her boss suspected her of the theft and had hired Roxanne to catch her in the act.
The Kevlar stitched into the bodice of Roxanne’s beaded evening gown gave her little comfort. Mary looked more like the kind of woman who would prefer knives—up close, personal, and silent.
She was a small, innocent-looking woman. She had delicate, softly rounded features, like a porcelain doll. Her bright, cherry red hair was styled in an old-fashioned manner that reminded Roxanne of glamorous actresses from the forties. Her dress matched her flamboyant hair color and skimmed the kinds of curves that made men forget their own names. If it weren’t for the fact that her boss was a freaking genius, Mary probably would have continued to get away with stealing his intellectual property.
But Mr. Chord
was
a genius, and after a bit of surveillance, Roxanne was sure he was right. Mary Smith was a thief.
Roxanne stood on the grand staircase that led to the second floor, where several people mingled. She watched Mary laugh at something Mr. Chord said, placing her delicate hand on his chest while she batted her fake eyelashes. The redhead stared up at him in rapt attention, hanging on his every word. Her hands were quick, but Roxanne was watching carefully, expecting the woman to make a move.
Mary didn’t disappoint. With a quick, graceful motion, she swiped Mr. Chord’s key card from his breast pocket, palming it until it was safely in her red beaded evening bag.
Busted, but not good enough yet. Mary had to be caught stealing the information or no one would believe Little Miss Innocent was guilty of anything more than stunning good looks.
Mary excused herself, heading toward the staircase. Roxanne turned to the nearest group of people and chatted with them as the other woman passed behind her, moving up the stairs and to the right, toward Mr. Chord’s office.
Roxanne caught Mr. Chord’s gaze and gave him a slight nod. Tonight, she was going to plug her client’s information leak once and for all.
A smile stretched Roxanne’s lips as she waited until the last flash of red dress was gone before following Mary down the hallway. The floor plan to Mr. Chord’s home was firmly in her mind. There was only one reason Mary would be headed down this hall: to reach Mr. Chord’s office.
Roxanne waited a few brief seconds outside the solid wood door, giving Mary time to power up the PC and begin her illegal hacking.
The high-tech keypad controlling the office door indicated the door was securely locked. Roxanne used her key to open it. By the time she swung the door open, Mary was already standing, her eyes wide with innocence.
“What are you doing in here?” asked Roxanne.
“Mr. Chord asked me to look over some of his papers.” She held up a key card. “See? He gave me his key.”
“Liar,” said Roxanne, her grin widening. “But then everything from your dyed hair to your name to that résumé you used to get hired is a lie.”