Darkest Ecstasy (10 page)

“Son,” Drako corrected.

“Son.”

“We must produce sons,” Drako reminded him. Of course, that was unnecessary. He knew what his duty was. Lately, that was all he thought about. And now, the pressure for him to marry was even greater.

“I know.”

“And before we do that, we must be
married
. Me and
you
.”

“Yes, yes. I get it. I'm working on it.” He dropped onto the couch and shoved his fingers through his hair. “It isn't easy, finding the right woman.”

“I know. I've been there. But if you don't want our brother to divorce his wife, you need to work harder on it.”

Shit. As if he wasn't feeling enough pressure already. He didn't have a clue who his wife would be.

What about Michelle?

He shoved that thought aside. She was too fragile.

Then again, Lei had been fragile when Malek married her. Even though she'd struggled to get over a major tragedy, she had weathered the danger okay, and had handled their most recent move just fine.

Michelle.

Michelle?

No, she was a bad choice. A dangerous one. He would feel compelled to protect her. Like Lei. He might even put his brothers and The Secret at risk for her.

And then there was his lifestyle. Although she showed a natural submissiveness that drove him crazy, she was completely new to D/s. When he needed something more intense, he would be driven to go elsewhere for that. He had a feeling she wouldn't handle that well, either.

Then again, both of his brothers appeared to be content with their choices. Drako's wife, Rin, hadn't had any experience with D/s when they married. And Lei had been a domme. She'd quickly learned to appreciate the freedom and joy in submitting to a master who was loving and protective and trustworthy.

Why couldn't Michelle learn, as well?

Then again, both brothers had experienced their share of challenges with their wives. It had taken time for them to gain Rin and Lei's complete trust. Not to mention, both brothers had taken some major risks because of their love for their wives.

No, it would be better to choose a woman who was more independent. Stronger. Experienced. And someone who wouldn't expect or want his love.

His heart belonged to someone else.

Michelle wasn't the one. Even though tonight had been intense. Already he was ready to go track her down and do it again.

Drako waved his hands in front of Talen's nose. “Earth to Talen. Are you still with me?”

Talen lifted his head. Drako had sat down next to him. He hadn't even realized it. “Just thinking.”

“About . . . ?”

“Life.”

Drako flopped an arm over Talen's shoulder. “I know you care about Lei. If you want to help her, then you need to think about finding a wife of your own.”

“Dammit, I get it. Stop.” He shoved to his feet and charged out into the hall. Feeling as though the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, he followed the signs to Lei's room.

Three-eleven. Three-thirteen. Three-fifteen. This was it. Moving quietly, he stepped inside.

She looked so frail and vulnerable, lying in the bed, eyes closed, smooth porcelain skin pale.

“She'll be okay,” someone said.

Talen jerked around, finding his brother Malek sitting in a chair, in a corner of the room. The shadows hanging over his features made him look tired and weak.

“She'll be okay,” Talen repeated, stepping up to the bed. His gaze dropped to her little hand. Her fingers were long and narrow, her bones so fine. Her expression was peaceful although her skin was milky pale. “I know how much she means to you.”

“More than I could say.”

“I promise I'll be married by the end of the month,” Talen vowed, resisting the urge to pull Lei into his arms and hold her. She didn't need his comforting or protection. She had Malek. Malek loved her at least as much as he did, if not more.

“That doesn't give you much time.”

Leaving Lei's side, Talen turned to his grieving brother. “I don't care what it takes. I'll find a wife and I'll get her pregnant. With a son. Lei is yours. For the rest of your life.”

“Thank you.” A single tear slipped from his brother's eye.

T
alen had to choose. Between two women. Two very different women. One was world-wise, experienced in D/s, sexy, and intelligent. But also self-centered, aggressive, and manipulative. The other was innocent and inexperienced, but also patient, trusting, and giving.

Seemed like a no-brainer. And it would be, if he'd been any other man. The innocent, inexperienced but trusting woman would win hands-down.

Except his life would never be normal, and there were dangers lurking in the shadows. Not only would his wife need to understand that his first duty would be to protect The Secret. Above all else. Including her. But she would also need to realize he couldn't afford to let his emotions get in the way of his primary obligation. She would have to understand, too, that her child would someday be called to carry a great responsibility.

Not every woman was capable of accepting the realities of his life or what the future might hold.

Angela was a better fit. She wouldn't fall apart at the first sign of danger. The lifestyle he could offer her, the beautiful things he could buy her, would make up for any sacrifices she would have to bear. Michelle wouldn't be so easy to buy.

Yes, it had to be Angela.

Angela.

His gut twisted.
Dammit.
Sitting in the family waiting room again, he dropped his head into his hands.

“What's wrong?” Drako asked.

“How's Lei?” he asked without looking up.

“Resting. Malek's staying there with her. No reason for me to stick around, so I thought I'd head back and get some work done,” he explained. “You look . . . tense.”

“I am.”

“The marriage?”

Talen nodded.

“Do you remember how freaked out I was before I asked Rin to marry me?”

“It's not the
asking
I'm worried about. It's the
choosing
,” Talen admitted.

“Ah.” His oldest brother shouldered the wall and smiled. “Afraid you'll make a mistake.”

“Sure. Weren't you?”

“No.”

“Great.” The sigh he heaved was loud enough to be heard for miles.

“I knew Rin was the one. But I kept telling myself I couldn't let myself love her. That's where our problems came from, me being stupid and thinking that if I loved her I wouldn't be able to do my job or protect The Secret or the family.”

“What about that situation, with our uncle? He used Rin as bait and almost got The Secret from us. Wouldn't you say that your love for Rin made you vulnerable?”

“Maybe at first. But in the long run her love has made me better, stronger.” Drako curled his hands into fists. His gaze dropped to them as he unfurled his fingers. Tiny sparks ignited on his fingertips. “Not to mention the power I have now. I believe it's tied to her love.”

“That I don't get, how a woman's love could make you suddenly capable of producing and controlling fire.”

Drako merely shrugged. “I know, but it is what it is.” He gave Talen a thorough once-over. “You know which woman is right for you. Take a risk.
Love
her.” Smiling, Drako shook his head. “Listen to me. I sound like a fucking woman. I never would have thought I would tell you to marry for love. But I've learned a lot since I married Rin. Her love might make our job easier, not more difficult. If you gain a power, too, like me and Malek, then we'll be that much more capable of not only protecting The Secret, but our families, too.”

Talen let Drako's words sink in for a few moments before responding.

Take a risk.

Love her.

Whom could he love? Angela? No.

Michelle. Yes. Michelle.

“Have you made a choice?” Drako asked, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Yes. I think I have.” His heart jerked. Could he marry Michelle? Yes? Maybe. Yes! “I'll do it. I'll marry for love.” For the first time in a while, he actually inhaled a complete breath.

Drako gave his shoulder a slap. “You won't regret it, little brother. I promise.”

 

Michelle's day had been ordinary. Dull. Uneventful. Slightly disappointing.

She hadn't heard a word from Tage. He hadn't called. Hadn't texted. Hadn't been on the elevator this morning. Hadn't even come up to check to make sure she made it home okay. Hadn't even come looking for his coat.

He's blowing you off. Forget him.

By noon, she'd told herself that so many times, she had lost count. By six o'clock that evening, it had become a mantra.
Forget him. Forget him. Forget him.

She repeated those words over and over as she shut down her computer. She repeated them as she grabbed her purse and headed out into the hallway. She repeated them as she waited for the elevator, rode it down, and walked to her car in the parking structure.

Forget him, forget him, forget him.

Her insides ached. But she had nobody to blame. Hadn't he tried to tell her she was making a mistake? Hadn't he warned her?

I can't forget him.

She couldn't. Not the way he'd touched her. The way he'd kissed her. The way he possessed her body when he'd made love to her. A wave of warmth rushed through her as she remembered him tying her hands.

I did this to myself.

She slumped into the driver's seat, shoved her key into the ignition, and turned it.

Click, click, click.

Dead battery?

“Dammit.”

Annoyed, she tried it again.
Click, click, click, click.

“Just great.” Muttering a few cuss words, she thrust her hand into her purse and pulled out her wallet and phone. She had a motor club membership. They would send a service truck out to jump-start it. But she would be sitting here for a while. At least a half hour. She grabbed the card from her wallet and flipped it over to read the number.

Someone knocked on her window. She looked. Hopefully it was someone with jumper cables.

It was him.

Shit.
Unable to power down the windows, she opened the car door. “My car won't start. I think the battery's dead. I don't suppose you have jumper cables.”

“Come with me.” He extended a hand.

“Where?”

“I'd like to go somewhere and talk.”

Talk? He had the world's worst timing. Her car was dead. She needed to take care of that first, or she wouldn't have a way to get to work in the morning. “I can't. Not right now.”

He stood there, jaw clenched slightly. Was he frustrated with her? Annoyed, maybe? Good. He deserved a little discomfort after abandoning her last night, and the time before.

He reached into her car, grabbed the hood release, and gave it a pull. Then, without saying a word, he circled around to the front of the car, lifted it. A few seconds later, he said, “Try it now.”

Fully expecting nothing but clicks, she twisted the key. The engine started right up. “What?” she exclaimed.

He dropped the hood. “A battery cable was loose.”

“Battery cable?” she echoed, her mind spinning. “Thanks. That saved me a lot of trouble tonight.”

He thrust his hand at her again. “Now, would you please come with me?”

She looked at his face, then his waiting hand. Did she want to hear his explanation for last night? Maybe. Plus he'd just helped her with her car. She cut off her car and stuffed her keys, phone, and wallet back in her purse. With her purse handles looped over her right elbow, she set her left hand in his. “Okay. Oh, I have your coat.”

“Keep it.” His expression brightened as he watched her straighten up. His fingers wove between hers. “I'm parked over here.” He led her around the corner to his black car and opened her door for her.

She watched him round the front of the car. What would he tell her? As he walked, his expression was fairly intense. He looked a little . . . nervous.

He opened his door and folded his large frame into the seat. “Thanks for giving me a chance to explain.”

“Thank you for helping me with my car.”

He flicked a glance at her, then draped an arm over the back of her seat and twisted to look over his shoulder. “It was no big deal.”

“It was a big deal to me. I'm lost without my car.”

He nodded, shifted into forward, and eased on the accelerator. The car prowled through the narrow lane, toward the exit. His arm didn't move. It stayed right where it was, draped across the gap between their seats. Her nerves along her neck and down her back prickled. She wondered if she would ever get used to him being near her. Or would she always feel warm around him? Hot and tense and tingly. “I get that. We all become so dependent upon cars, phones, conveniences.”

“So true. Where are we going?”

“Somewhere quiet.” He flicked a glance her way. “It isn't far.”

Slightly nervous, she smiled and nodded. Her fingers fiddled with her purse strap. After a few moments of silence, she turned to watch familiar landmarks, streets, and buildings zoom past the passenger-side window. He turned onto Route Fifteen, then into the entry of a state park.

“Okay,” he said when he'd parked the car. “We're here. Wait here. I'll get your door.”

“Thanks.” She glanced down at her feet. She hadn't exactly dressed to go on a hike. She hoped he wasn't expecting her to walk far.

He opened the door for her, and she swung her legs out of the vehicle and straightened up.

Once again, he was standing very close. Just like last night, she was trapped between his bulky, insanely sexy body and the car. Narrow waist. Wide chest. Broad shoulders. That face. Oh God, that face.

His eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Marry me,” he said.

“What?” she blurted. Surely she'd heard wrong. He hadn't said . . . he hadn't . . .

“Shit. I mean, damn. I mean, shoot. I did this all wrong.” He lowered himself to one knee. “Michelle, marry me,” he repeated.

What the hell? She felt herself wobbling. She grabbed the car door to steady herself. “Marry you?”

“Yes.” He took her hand in his. “Be my wife.”

“I . . .” Her words trailed off. What the hell was this? A marriage proposal? After one date? Correction, two half-dates. They hadn't even had one full date yet. She didn't know what to say. It had to be a joke. Smiling, she shook her head. “You're funny.”

“I'm not trying for funny. To be honest, I was shooting for romantic.” He swept his arm in a wide arc, indicating their surroundings, which were sort of romantic. The park was lovely, wooded, and lush. Private. Not far away, in a clearing, she saw a canopy set up, with a table set under it.

“You aren't j-j-joking?” she stuttered.

“No. I wouldn't joke about a thing like this.” Standing, he pulled on her hand, tugging her forward, toward the canopy and table.

Once again, she was speechless. Her mind was whirring 'round and 'round like a twirling top, thoughts spinning, nothing sticking, other than,
what the hell?

“It's so . . . sudden.”

“I realize that.” He ducked under the canopy and released her hand to pull out a chair for her.

Grateful to be able to sit—her knees were as soft as melted marshmallows—she dropped onto the chair. “We don't know each other,” she said as her gaze meandered over the table, set for two.

He sat across from her. He grabbed the wine bottle from the bucket next to him and pulled the cork. “We know a little about each other. I know your name. I know you're sensitive and trusting and a little on the conservative side—at least when it comes to dating. Is there more I should know?” He picked up her glass and poured some wine into it.

“Should you know more before you decide to spend the rest of your life with me? Sure.” She accepted her filled glass with what was probably a nervous smile. He poured some wine into his own glass, then set the bottle back in the bucket. “And I should know more about you than how you look naked.”

“Are you sure about that?” The twinkle in his eye couldn't be missed as he peered at her over the rim of his glass.

She scrunched up her nose, even though she found that twinkle ridiculously adorable. “Yes, of course I'm sure. I hardly know anything about you.” At his unspoken invitation, she lifted the cover off her plate. She was surprised by what she found. There wasn't any fancy food, no little pretty portions of gourmet meats and weird vegetables. There was a big, fat hamburger on the plate and some macaroni salad and chips. She had to giggle a little. The food so did not fit with the atmosphere he'd created, or the wine, which was so smooth and delicious she couldn't get enough. “There's a sequence of events that people generally follow before they marry. You know, like going out on more than two dates.”

“Yes, well, I've never been the kind to go with tradition.” He picked up his huge burger and took a man-sized bite.

“And this is why I need to know more about you. What exactly does marriage mean to you, since you're not into tradition?” she asked as she munched on a chip.

He swallowed before answering. “It means we live together as partners, lovers, friends. We'll start a family.”

“Kids? You want kids? See? That's something I didn't know about you.”

He gulped down some wine. “I want children right away. At least two. Twin boys would be perfect.”

She couldn't help laughing at that statement, as well as the whole conversation. It was all so crazy, this talk about marriage, children. Like she would be insane enough to run to the altar with a man she'd slept with once. “FYI, a woman doesn't have any control over when she gets pregnant, let alone how many children she has, or the gender of those offspring.”

“There are things a doctor can do.”

“What kind of things?” A little warning bell started chiming in her head. This was weird. No man, particularly one who looked like Tage, who could sleep with any woman he wanted at the snap of his fingers, and seemed to have enough money to buy whatever he wanted, was in a hurry to get married. Something was up. “Are you in a rush to have children for some reason?”