Deception (28 page)

“Shit,” Quin cursed, his heart jumping into his throat.

He waved a hand, casting a silencing spell around the room. Then he carefully forced her onto her back. “What hurts most? I'll make it better.”

“What happened?” she cried. “I was fine five seconds ago.”

He touched his lips to hers, spreading magical heat throughout her trembling body. “Your injuries were numbed, but the spells break if you move too much.”

“I don't remember it hurting this bad, Quin. The last time I was awake, it didn't hurt like this. Did I hit the ground?”

“No.”

“Then why does it hurt so bad? It wasn't like this before.”

He searched her body, his stomach churning as her painful sobs pierced both head and heart. “What hurts most, Layla? I can reset the spells.”

“My whole body,” she blurted. But then she squeezed her eyes shut, and Quin could tell she was trying to figure out which injuries were most dire. “My shoulder,” she breathed. “My right shoulder.”

He reached for her dislocated shoulder, barely touching skin as he numbed everything from her neck to her side. “Did that help?”

“Yes, but the rest of me is on fire, and I still don't understand why. He didn't break any bones besides my jaw and cheek. Why does my whole body hurt?”

Quin continued numbing as he answered. “His spells wreaked havoc on your insides, love. Just because a spell doesn’t break a bone or leave a surface mark, doesn’t mean it isn’t damaging your body.”

“But it didn't hurt like this before.”

“There’s no way that’s true. Maybe it didn’t seem as painful since your survival instincts had your adrenaline pumping, but you’re in better shape now than you were then.”

“But…” She took a shaky breath then squeaked her doubt. “I didn't want to survive.”

After numbing the severest injuries, Quin paused the task and found her eyes. “If you didn’t want to survive, you wouldn't have. The injuries you sustained could have easily killed you or sent you into shock, yet you were getting to your feet and talking to me. Someone without the will to live wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

She reached for him, and he quickly took her arm in both hands, keeping the pain away as she touched his lips. “I had to,” she whispered. “You were so angry.”

He closed his eyes and kissed her fingertips. “I'm still angry. I hate that this happened to you.”

“I didn't want you to have to do those things, Quin. You weren't yourself.”

“I know, and I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I never want to be that man around you.” He opened his eyes and moved her palm to his heart. “I want to be this man for you.”

“You are, Quin. You're the only man for me.”

He stared into her eyes for several seconds. Then he moved closer, his heart squeezing under the weight of the question haunting his head. He didn't want her to have to think about it, let alone speak of it, but he needed to know the answer, no matter how badly he might hate it.

“What's wrong?” she asked, scanning the air around him.

He sucked in a deep breath while waiting for her eyes to return to his. Then he took her cheek in his palm and whispered. “There's something I need to know, so I can help you heal.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

He swallowed a lump then quietly cleared his throat, trying to find the backbone to say the words he hated so much. “Did he…” The words failed him, and he scowled at the weakness he never knew he had. “I'm sorry, angel. This is hard for me to ask.”

“You don't have to,” she assured, flexing her fingers over his heart. “I get it.”

He returned her hand to his lips, speaking softly and so sadly. “I'm sorry, Layla. I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to say it, and I'm sorry I'm asking, but if he hurt you like that, I need to know.” So many things could be terribly wrong if Finley forced sex on her. Quin couldn’t begin to imagine the emotional turmoil of forced conception, and even if she didn't have to face the possibility of carrying Finley's baby, she’d carry deep and painful scars no amount of magic could heal, scars that would need to be healed before she was faced with intimacy again.

Tears welled up in her lids as she stared at him, and he braced himself for bad news, but then she blinked back the moisture and shook her head. “He didn't get his chance. You showed up.”

Quin sighed as relief rushed through his body much quicker than his blood ever had. Then he leaned in, softly kissing her lips while sweeping a thumb across her cheek. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”

“It’s a relief to say it, and it’s something I wouldn’t be able to say if it weren’t for you. Thank you for saving me from that, Quin. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Never, Layla. I'll never give up on you. I would have scoured this earth until I found you.”

“My thorough hero,” she sighed.

He stared at her smile for a moment, tracing the lovely lips that breathed life into him. Then he found the emerald gaze that made his heart beat. “My perfect angel.”

Chapter 19

Layla wasn’t in excruciating pain anymore, but Quin still insisted on numbing her minor injuries, so she released his cheeks and let him do it.

Swiveling her eyes around, she took in her surroundings for the first time since waking up. “Where are we?”

“Karena's inn.”

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. “This is a room at the inn?”

“Yes.”

“It looks like it belongs in a palace or something.”

He laughed then abruptly stopped, like the sensation was unfamiliar. Layla knew the feeling. They hadn’t shared a moment of humor since showering together.

“Well it’s not a palace,” he confessed, “but this is Karena's nicest room.”

“It's a lot nicer than the one I stayed in. I mean, that one was fantastic, too, but nothing like this.”

The chamber was huge, with an oversized bed, a full sitting area, plenty of floor space, and three doors, which she assumed led to a bathroom, a closet and the inn’s hallway. The thick crown molding was polished to a golden shine that enhanced its carved details, and the high ceiling recessed into a dome above the bed. Within the dome, hung a jeweled chandelier – its amber gemstones softening the light – and as if the ambiance wasn’t lush enough, blonde silk wallpaper cast pearly shades of gold across velvety rugs.

“Is it the honeymoon suite?” she asked, looking over to find Quin watching her.

“Karena calls it the royal suite,” he answered. “There’s a honeymoon suite as well, but it isn’t as big as this one.”

“Oh.” Layla returned her gaze to the chandelier. The gemstones reminded her of the amber hue that flashed in Quin’s eyes and hair on sunny days. “Well it’s wonderful.”

“If I'd known you’d like it so much, I would have put you here the first night I met you.”

“Why didn't you?” she asked, finding him again.

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Would you have let me?”

She grinned, undeniably proud of her bullheadedness. “Probably not.”

“That’s what I thought. You barely let me give you a discount on an average room. If I’d brought you to this room, there’s a good chance you would have turned around and walked out. You were stubborn about things that night.”

“I didn't know you; I was suspicious of your motives.”

He numbed one more spot then lay down beside her, propping his head on one hand. “I know. You were pretty honest about it. Plus,” he added, gently tapping her nose, “I could see your aura.”

“Well that's embarrassing.”

He managed a smile as he watched her eyes. “Tell my why.”

“You already know.”

“I do, but I’d like to hear it.”

She raised a sluggish hand to his cheek, accepting the fact that she couldn't deny him anything. “Because I started crushing on you the moment you walked into Cinnia's. I watched you the entire time you were helping Bri, who I thought must be your girlfriend, and I couldn’t look away until you looked back. I thought my face caught fire I was so embarrassed, and it only got worse. I was a bumbling idiot that entire evening, and I still don't know how I managed to make anything besides a bad impression on you. You twisted my tongue and disrupted my breathing. I felt like a tween with an irrational crush on a forbidden superstar.”

“I'm not a superstar,” he disagreed, “and you weren't a bumbling idiot.”

She smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? Yes I was. I blushed and stuttered my way through the first ten minutes of our conversation. You must have thought I had a speech impediment or something.”

She'd forced another laugh out of him, and he kissed her cheek before whispering in her ear. “Would you like to hear what I saw that night?”

“Sure,” she agreed, “but if it's too harsh, just spare me. I understand, but I'm not sure I want to hear it.”

He nuzzled her hair and breathed deep. “Your worry is unnecessary.”

Tingles drifted across her neck with his breath, and it felt amazing amidst all the numbness. “Move your lips closer,” she demanded.

He obeyed, and she happily sighed. “Okay, let's hear what you saw that night.”

He quietly told his story between tender kisses to her neck and light caresses to her face. “Well, the first thing I saw was an aura unrivaled in its magnificence. It was bigger and brighter and more complex than any before it, and I could actually feel it sucking me in. The second thing I saw was a uniquely beautiful woman. Her face couldn’t be compared to anything I'd seen before her. Then she spoke to me with a sweet voice that invaded my heart and soothed my soul, and I couldn’t breathe as I watched the words flow from the most perfect lips I'd ever seen. When her long lashes swept up, giving me a glimpse into her emerald eyes, I somehow lost and found myself in them all at once. The rest of the world disappeared, suspending just me and those eyes in an enlightening moment, and I had no other choice but to stay there until a lovely blush touched her cheeks. She made me smile when she filled half her coffee cup with sugar; she sent chills down my spine when she touched my hand; and my heart sighed when she said my name. Then, when she told me her name, I saw my dreams coming true.”

Layla stared at the chandelier through blurry tears, her throat thick, her strong heartbeat flooding her veins with warmth. “I love you, Quin.”

“I love you, too, Layla.”

She sobbed, and he pulled his face from her hair, frowning as he dried her tears. “What's wrong, love?”

“I want to hold you,” she cried. “The urge is so strong, and I can't do anything about it. I have to lie here like an invalid when all I want to do is hold you against me.”

“Soon,” he promised, working a hand through her hair. Then he gently held the back of her neck while touching his cheek and chest to hers. “As soon as you’re feeling better.”

She laid a hand on his jaw, wishing he could stay that way until she was healed. And he probably would if she asked him to. He made no effort to move, which she loved, but her bladder protested the idea. “Quin?”

He quickly leaned away. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. Your touch feels wonderful. It's what I want most, but I need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course,” he mumbled, floating from the bed.

“And a drink,” she added. “I can’t remember the last time I had one. I’m surprised I’m not thirstier than I am.”

“I used water magic to keep you hydrated.”

“Oh.” She licked her lips. “How long was I out?”

“Nine hours.”

“What? I've been missing you nine hours longer than I had to?”

He smiled and raised a hand to his chest. “You're something else, Layla. You make my heart soar.”

“I don't like that I missed out on nine hours with you.”

“You needed the time. Even if you’d been awake, you would have been too sore to enjoy me.”

“You're wrong,” she disagreed, tired of him standing so far away. “So how are we going to do this? Will I be able to make it to the bathroom?”

“Yes, with my help, but it's still going to hurt.”

Her eyes widened as her face grew warm. “I can't let you go in there with me, Quin. It's too embarrassing.”

He sighed and knelt beside the bed, taking a flaming cheek in his palm. “I understand why you feel that way, but I want you to know it wouldn't make me feel any different about you, and that I wouldn't pay the least bit of attention. However, if it bothers you that bad, you can try by yourself, but it's going to hurt worse, and you have to let me help you in and out of there.”

“Okay,” she agreed. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pumping herself up for the task.

“Layla.”

She peeked at him with one eye. “Yeah?”

“Don't try to get out of that bed on your own.”

She opened both eyes and smiled. “Are you going to carry me?”

“No. I'm going to float you.”

She stuck out a pout, which got a soft tug from his thumb.

“I'll carry you everywhere once you're better,” he promised. “I'll carry you around the house, out on the lawn, into the café, wherever you'll let me.”