Ever After (14 page)

“Could it have been the Huntsman?” Arabella asked.

I shook my head. “I've never sensed any magic in him—nor whoever it was under the mask at the festival. The magic was attached only to the weapons, not the man.”

We sat in pensive silence for several moments, each of us lost in our thoughts. Whoever the man had been, he'd been prepared for a confrontation. Your average thief would never bother to carry an arsenal of cursed weapons for a simple heist. Although after what I'd just been through, I was seriously considering adding a few curses to my own weapons and to Arabella's arrows, just to be on the safe side. I'd be damned if that bastard was going to get the drop on me again. The next time that fucker and I met, he'd find out just how brutal a warrior I could be.

“I've never been so scared in all my life,” Arabella finally said, her voice little more than a whisper but enough to break into my very graphic plans for retribution. “I sat here, watching you writhe in pain, Gideon, and I . . .” She swiped at her eyes. “I couldn't do anything to help you. All I could do was watch you suffer.”

I looked away, sorry for what I'd put her through. I reached for her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze.

“Was that what it was like for you?” she whispered. “When we were at the falls?”

A sudden lump lodged in my throat, the fear, pain, helplessness of that day returning in a heartrending rush. “Probably so.”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “I'm sorry.”

“Arabella—”

“I'm
so
sorry, Gideon,” she interrupted, “for all the hell that I put you through. I never meant to hurt you, you must know that.”

I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Of course I do, lass.”

That simple kiss sparked between us, and the heat that'd been simmering and had nearly come blazing forth earlier raged once more. Arabella lifted her eyes to mine, her pupils dilating with desire as her gaze met and held mine.

Without a word, she moved to straddle my lap, settling in easily where we'd joined together so often before in Make Believe, and took my face in her hands. “I promise, I will
never
put you through that again.”

I frowned at her. “I should hope not,” I said, examining her face, searching the emotions that were raging through her. There was such a jumble, I couldn't make out what was going through her head. But I knew what was weighing on
my
heart, what I'd been longing to say since the moment I saw her. And after the close call with the poison, I wasn't about to keep it in check another moment. “Stay with me, Arabella.”

Her eyes grew sorrowful, and she tilted her head to the side, the excuses to leave, her insistence upon the
now,
rising to her lips. But before she could utter a word of refusal, I grasped her nape and dragged her to me, stopping her words with a brief, harsh kiss.

“Deny me,” I ground out when the kiss ended, my lips still hovering near hers. “Tell me y'don't want me, that y'don't want to lie in my arms again, and I'll let y'go right now and ne'er bother y'more.”

For a long moment she didn't respond. Then, without a word, she rolled off of my lap and got to her feet beside the bed. My heart sank as I watched her walk toward the doorway. But then she paused, her fingers gripping the doorframe, and turned back to face me.

“Oh, love,” she drawled, shaking her head slowly. “You of all people should know what I want. . . .”

As I watched her walk away, the wake of her emotions buffeted against my senses, drawing me to my feet to follow. I entered the bathroom just as she was adjusting the water for a shower. Sensing my presence, she turned to face me and offered me a saucy grin. “I think we have some unfinished business, don't you?” Before I could respond, she grabbed the hem of her tunic and pulled it over her head, baring her breasts.

I needed no further encouragement. I strode into the bathroom and kicked the door shut, dragging her into my arms in the next instant, my mouth crashing down on hers. One hand grasped a tight fist of her silky hair while the other slid down her back to press her tighter against me. She met my kiss with her own, our hunger for one another too desperate to be denied any longer. She moaned softly, grinding her hips against mine, driving me wild.

It was hard to tear myself away from the bliss of her kiss, but I had to feel more of her, taste more of her. I pressed kisses along the curve of her throat, her shoulder, gently nipping at her skin with my teeth.

“My God, I want you,” she murmured, fumbling with the button of my breeches. Seconds later, her hand slid down between us.

The air burst from my lungs when her slender fingers gently grasped my cock. I hissed a curse and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, focusing on the mind-numbingly perfect stroke of her hand on my shaft. Her touch was gentle, loving, and it set my mind reeling.

As reluctant as I was to pull away, I could feel her growing anticipation in the way her aura flared, growing brighter with need, the heat of her own desires bringing an alluring flush to her skin. And I knew what she wanted, what she needed at that moment, what she'd craved for far too long. And I was more than happy to comply.

I stepped back and knelt before her, grasping the edges of the tights and easing them down her legs, revealing the tiny scrap of pale pink satin she wore beneath, somehow restraining myself from tearing those damned tights to shreds and ravaging her like I was some overeager brute. But I didn't want our first time together again to be over too quickly. I wanted to savor each moment, draw out her pleasure—and my own—until our
only
option was to surrender to it.

She lifted one foot to let me slide the tights down her calf, gasping when I nipped at her knee with my teeth. And when she lifted the other foot, I slipped off the tights and tossed them aside. But before she could set her foot back down, I caught her leg behind her knee and draped it over my shoulder.

When I pressed a kiss to the triangle of satin, Arabella's gasp ended on a moan that made my cock jump, eager for some action, but I ignored my own needs for the moment, preferring to focus on hers. I could've thrown her down right there on the floor and relieved both our suffering, but when I turned my eyes up to her face, made all the more beautiful in the throes of passion, the intensity of her building pleasure was far more intoxicating than any primal release I could've experienced from a quick orgasm. This was more than just the typical biological response. So much more.

I slipped my index finger under her panties, very slowly caressing along the edge, teasing, building her anticipation of my touch. And when I journeyed farther, my fingertip brushing against her clit, she cried out with a shudder.

I couldn't help the self-satisfied grin on my face when I hooked my finger around the panties and slid them out of the way. I'd intended to just tease with a kiss, but the moment my tongue met the sweet taste of her, I moaned with need and pressed farther in, delving deeper. My God, I couldn't get enough of her. She writhed against my mouth, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“Oh, dear God,” she groaned, arching back against the wall.

When her muscles began to tense, I braced her hips and eased back just a little, flicking my tongue, drawing out the buildup. When she whimpered, her pleasure at its peak, I let her come, driving her through it, my teeth grazing her clit and making her cry out as another release washed over her.

“Gideon,” she panted. “Please . . .”

I lifted her leg from my shoulder, then slowly rose, kissing the inside of her thighs, her belly, between her breasts, as I went. When I was standing again, she ran her hands over my chest and down my abdomen until she reached my waistband. She pushed my breeches over my hips, sliding them down as I had done for her, her hands gliding up my legs as she slowly rose. She then wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me against her.

When she turned her face up to mine, I bent forward, brushing my lips over hers in a tender kiss. This time the kiss was slow, languid. And where that kiss ended another began.

When the steam from the shower began to fill the room, I drew the kiss to a close and opened the shower door. I stepped inside, pulling her in after me and gathering her into my arms. For several long moments, we just stood there, our bodies pressed together as the water sluiced over us. My hands roamed lightly up and down her back, over the swell of her bottom. Reading her emotions at that moment, waiting until her body gave me the cue I was looking for.

And when Arabella tipped her head back to wet her hair, the movement was so erotic, I grinned.

Oh, yeah . . . There it was.

I couldn't help pressing a kiss to her throat. She was smiling when I pulled back to run my hands over her hair. The smile was so sweet, so contented, I wondered if perhaps she was remembering the many times we'd bathed together in Make Believe, how much pleasure we'd taken in ministering to one another. I'd dreamed of those moments together so often, for a moment, I wondered if perhaps this was yet a dream, that I was actually still trapped in the coma, fighting off the poison that ravaged my body. Afraid I'd wake up at any moment, I took my time caring for her, washing her hair, her body, relishing the feel of her lathered skin beneath my hands.

At some point, Arabella took the soap from me and began to lather my body with it, running her hands along my back and shoulders, down my arms, across my chest. When she journeyed between my legs, my cock strained toward her, so hard that there was no doubt where my thoughts were tending.

When she knelt before me and took me into her mouth, my arms shot out to brace myself against the shower walls, the wicked glint in her eyes alerting me to what was coming next. Still, I hissed a strangled curse as her tongue swirled around the tip, and ground my teeth, holding it together for as long as possible. But when she took me in deep and slowly withdrew, those soft pink lips were devastating.

I abruptly pulled away and drew her to her feet, chuckling at the self-satisfied smirk on her face. I was still smiling when I pressed my lips to hers again. The gentle kiss soon grew deeper. Her arms went around my neck, keeping me from drawing away. But I had no intention of backing out this time.

I lifted her into my arms, wrapping her legs around me, and pressed her back against the wall of the shower. I thrust into her without hesitation, groaning as her warmth enveloped me. It was almost more pleasure than I could stand—I knew it was more than I deserved. It took every ounce of willpower I had to move slowly, to not pound into her and race toward the release that would grant me mercy from the sweet torment building inside.

But with each thrust she grew tighter and tighter, her pleasure building along with my own. I kissed along the curve of her throat, teasing the juncture between neck and shoulder that drove her wild. When she couldn't take any more, she dragged my face up to hers and kissed me tenderly, her hands cupping my face and keeping me there as her lips passed over mine, lingering longer each time, until her tongue pressed against my lips.

She shattered apart then, her kiss becoming more frenzied with each shuddering aftershock. And still I drove her through it and on to the next peak. This time, her nails dug into my back as she gasped my name.

And it was too much for me to bear. I poured into her with a hard thrust, groaning with the intensity. My hips continued to move as if of their own accord, driving into her again and again, the friction where we were joined too pleasurable to break away from just yet.

Arabella's breath was hot in my ear as we both raced toward another release. When I felt the pressure building in the base of my spine, the tempo increased, and this time when Arabella shattered apart, I didn't even bother to try to keep quiet.

For some time after, I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. My head hung down, my eyes closed as my breath sawed in and out of my lungs. But I finally managed to lift my head and kiss her long and hard.

When the kiss ended, she grinned at me, her eyes half closed in blissful satiation. She smoothed my hair from my face, kissed me, ran her hands over my shoulders. And when I finally set her down on her feet, she slipped her arms around my waist and pressed her cheek against my chest.

There were so many things I wanted to say at that moment, but my emotions choked me, keeping me from uttering a single word. All I could do was hold her close, keep her tight against me, and hope that this time I'd have the strength not to let go.

“Gideon?”

Her soft entreaty drew me out of my dark thoughts in an instant. I peered down at her and attempted a comforting smile, but I wasn't fooling her any more than I was fooling myself.

“Are you all right?” she asked, pulling back enough to study me with that shrewd gaze of hers.

I bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Better than I've been in a long while.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed.

“I suppose I'm still having a hard time believing that you're here in my arms,” I admitted.

A slow, sultry smile curved her lips as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down to receive her kiss. “Take me to bed, Gideon,” she murmured against my lips. “Let me show you just how real I am.”

I
was awakened by Arabella's tender kiss upon my back. Grinning, I rolled over and snaked my arm around her, curling her in against my body. After our escapades in the shower, we'd moved to Merlin's guest room where we explored each other again, making love until we were both too exhausted to go on. We'd fallen asleep wrapped in each other's arms and had slept like the dead.

I lifted my head just enough to see the clock on the bedside table behind her. Seven-ten. The room's blackout shades prevented me from knowing if it was morning or evening. But I didn't care. I could've slept for hours more, especially with Arabella in my arms.

“Hi,” she said, resting her chin on my chest and smiling up at me.

I smoothed her hair. “Hi.”

“How did you sleep?”

I grinned wickedly. “Far too well. I would much rather have continued making love to you.”

She chuckled and propped herself up on one elbow, scooting up the bed to press a kiss to my lips. When she pulled back I realized she looked tired, dark circles hanging heavily beneath her beautiful eyes.

I cupped her cheek, languidly smoothing her skin with my thumb. “What about you, lass?”

She kissed me again before responding. “I haven't slept that well since the last night we were together in Make Believe. I've missed being in your arms.”

The sweetness of her words filled me with warmth I'd thought I'd never feel again, but I sensed she hadn't slept quite as well as she'd have me believe. “Well, then,” I drawled, pulling her back to me, “let me hold you a while longer.”

She curled into my body, sighing contentedly, draping one leg over mine, her hand slowly smoothing over my chest. “I wish we could stay here all day,” she murmured with a sigh. “Could you make the world stop for a while, Gideon? I need more time. Just put everything on hold so we could make up for the time we've lost. Could you do that for me, love?”

I trailed my fingertips lazily along her spine, perplexed by her wistfulness. There was more to it than just a lover's romantic musings. “Would that I could,” I said. “But we'll make up for lost time, lass. I promise. You'll never go another day without me at your side, if that's what you want.”

She scooted up until she was peering down at me and caressed my cheek, her eyes so full of sorrow that I felt her sadness like a fist constricting my heart. “Oh, love, there's so much that I wanted for us. . . .”

“We can still have it,” I assured her.

At this, she leaned in and brushed her lips lightly over mine. As tender and sweet as the kiss was, it felt wrong. Like a good-bye. When she started to draw away she had a look in her eyes I'd seen before—the one that told me she was on the verge of bolting. I rolled her onto her back, caging her in with my arms.

“Do y'doubt me?” I pressed.

She shook her head. “Never. Not you.”

I brushed a lock of hair off her brow and let my fingertips drift down her cheek, picking up her inner turmoil, her indecision. But before I could determine the source of her disquiet, she shifted beneath me, wrapping her legs around me and bringing me into the cradle of her hips. And then pulled me down to receive her hungry kiss.

And there was no “good-bye” in this one. Whatever it was about the future that frightened her, it was far from her mind now. There was an immediacy in her kiss that put a stranglehold on the
now.
But before the kiss could lead to more, my phone began to vibrate on the bedside table, drawing my attention away from the far more pleasurable possibilities that waited in Arabella's arms. With a frustrated groan, I pulled back from the warmth of her embrace, intent on silencing the damned phone for good.

“You should probably answer it,” Arabella said, grimacing guiltily. “Someone's been ringing you about every thirty minutes since early this morning.”

Instead of chucking the offending device across the room, I glanced down at the display. My brows came together in a frown when I saw the number of missed calls that had come in during my battle with the poison. There were few who knew the number and fewer still who actually used it. Considering all the shit that had recently gone down, getting a call from any one of those parties probably wasn't a good thing.

I quickly paged through the list of missed calls, my stomach lurching with uneasiness when I saw that the majority were the number that worried me most.

“Shit.”

She winced. “I'm sorry, Gideon. You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you.”

I gave her a quick kiss and then rose from the bed, already missing the feel of her arms around me. “I'll only be a moment. Don't go anywhere.”

She gave me a mock salute, then fell back upon the bed, her hair splayed upon the pillow to create a striking contrast to the stark white of the linens. She was so lovely, her creamy skin so inviting, it took all my willpower to turn away and tend to my duties.

Groaning with frustration, I reached through a rift to grab a fresh set of clothes and pulled on my jeans before leaving the bedroom and dialing my king. The number rang several times before someone finally answered. “Hello?”

I drew the phone away from my ear and looked at the number, making sure I had dialed the correct one. When I saw the familiar set of numbers, I put it back to my ear. “Lily? Where's your father?”

The king's daughter cleared her throat. “Um, hey, Gideon. Dad's not here at the moment.”

I could tell she was lying even without the benefit of being able to read her. “Lily, I know he's there,” I told her evenly. “I need to speak with him, please.”

She paused and I could hear a conversation going on, the speakers whispering urgently. Lily cleared her throat again before coming back on the line with, “I'm supposed to tell you you've been disavowed.”

I went completely still, in shock at what I was hearing. “I'm afraid I must not have heard you correctly,” I said at last, my voice hoarse.

Lily swallowed hard. “We heard about what happened at Guinevere Pendragon's house in Connecticut, that you were taken in for questioning and that you may be charged with her attempted murder. Dad says that he has to keep his distance for a while until the mess with the FMA is ironed out. He can't allow his alliance with Al Addin to be jeopardized, especially right now when there's a rather sensitive matter concerning the fairy dust transports that needs to be dealt with.”

I pulled a hand down my face, surprised to find so much stubble there. “I'm aware of that matter, Lily,” I told her. “I'm looking into it. Please let me talk to your father.”

I heard her curse softly under her breath. “I'm really sorry, Gid. But Dad says you have three days to turn over the thief or he'll be—and I quote—‘very displeased.' ”

“He told me I could have until the end of the week,” I replied. “I need more than three days. Lily—”

“I'm sorry, Gideon,” she said. “I really am.”

The call was disconnected before I could utter another word. “Fucking hell.”

“What's going on?”

I turned to see Arabella standing in the doorway of the guest room with a sheet wrapped around her, her hair in an alluring tangle. “I need to go.”

She nodded. “Okay. I'll get dressed.”

I followed her into the room and grabbed my shirt. “You're staying here,” I told her. Before she could protest, I added, “No one knows you're here, Arabella. You're safe. I don't want you out and about with me.”

I don't know why I was surprised that instead of actually listening to what I said and agreeing to what made the most sense, she put her hands on her hips, not bothering to hold the sheet in place, and gave me a stubborn glare.

“I'm coming with you,” she insisted. “So, either help me find some clothes or I'll tag along naked. Either way, I'm going. It's not safe for you out there either, and who'll have your back if I'm not with you?”

It was really hard to argue with her when she was standing there, indignant and regal and looking like a goddess, but I gave it a go. “Arabella, I have only three days to figure out who the other fairy dust thief is before the king calls me in. And now that I've been disavowed—”

“What?” she cried. “Why?”

I quickly relayed my conversation with Lily.

“You must be joking,” Arabella scoffed. “The king must know that you're not guilty of what happened at Guinevere's!”

I pulled on my T-shirt and sat down to put on my boots. “I'd like to think so. But the king's reputation is essential to the success of his business. He can't be associated with me until this is cleared up. I understand that.”

“Well, I'm glad you do because I certainly don't,” she huffed as I reached into the rift and extracted clothes for her. “It's rubbish!”

I sighed and ran my hands through my curls, then came to her, taking her by the shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We'll get it all sorted. I'm going to go home, see if he'll grant me an audience to find out just how bad this is.”

She gave me a skeptical look. “All right, but—” Her words cut off as she swayed a little on her feet.

“Are you all right, lass?” I asked, bending so that I could look into her eyes.

She forced a smile. “Oh, yeah,” she assured me with a shrug. “Brilliant. Just a bit exhausted from all the fun we've had, love. Heists, battles, mind-blowing sex . . . You have a way of taking it out of a girl.”

I saw through her attempt at humor in an instant. Even if I wasn't an empath, I could've sensed her holding back on me. I wanted to stay and look after her, discover exactly what it was she was still hiding from me, spend more time lying in her arms, forgetting about the danger and death that lay in wait just outside. But the longer I waited to approach the king and gauge his true feelings on the accusations against me, the worse it would be for everyone concerned. Still, I couldn't leave Arabella in such a state.

“Do you need a little fairy dust from me?” I asked. “I don't want to dose you too often; you'll become addicted to me.”

She chuckled and slipped her arms around my waist, lifting her smiling face to mine. “I'm already addicted to you, love, but not because of your fairy dust. I can't get enough of you—I never could.”

After that kind of statement, I really had no choice but to kiss her. Which was a mistake. I couldn't just give her a quick kiss and walk away. There was no going back now that I'd had her in my arms again, had made love to her again after all those years of longing for her, dreaming of her.

My hands roamed over her skin as I walked her back toward the bed, tripping over the discarded sheet and falling onto the mattress with her in a tangle. We both chuckled, but her laughter died on her lips as my hand slipped between us. She arched into me with a very feminine moan.

My God, she was enthralling in the throes of passion. I could've stayed there all day watching bliss play over her features again and again as her climax built.

“Please, Gideon,” she whispered, clutching my shirt as she pressed kisses to my chest, the side of my neck. “I want to be with you. I want to feel you inside me one last time.”

I instantly stilled at her words, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. I laughed in a short, bitter burst and withdrew from her. “One last time,” I repeated, shaking my head as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

I heard her inhale sharply as if she'd just realized what she'd said. She knelt beside me on the bed and placed a hand tentatively on my shoulder. “Oh, Gideon, that's not—”

I shook her off and got to my feet, snatching up my jacket from the end of the bed. “Just hoping for a quick tumble, were you? Thought I'd welcome y'back in my bed without a second thought? The poor pathetic jackass who was idiot enough to fall for yer lies before would certainly fall for 'em again. Well, I won't be just a body to warm yer bed for a time, Arabella. I'm sure Merlin'll be back soon if you want someone to bed you without any strings attached.”

I strode from the room, slamming the door behind me, this new hurt just reinforcing the heartbreak and anger that I'd felt before. I'd been weak, had let my defenses down, had played along with her flirting, added a little of my own, had believed that what had happened between us the night before signaled a new start for our life together.

God, what I fool I'd been.

Well, her slipup and the king's decision to disown me were the eye-openers I needed. I was done fucking around with my life, living only to serve another and not be true to who I was, true to the man I realized I
could
be. I needed more, and goddamn it, I
deserved
more. I hadn't always thought so. I'd spent centuries doubting my worth, believing that my servitude was just and fitting penance for my inability to save the woman I loved. But I knew better now.

I knew all that. And yet there I stood in the living room of Merlin's loft apartment, my feet rooted to the floor. Unable to move forward, unwilling to turn back.

By the time Arabella joined me in the living room, I'd resumed my carefully schooled aloofness, determined not to let my guard down again. But, damn it all, when I saw her in the little blue dress, tights, and biker boots I'd pulled from the rift, she looked so goddamned adorable, it was all I could do not to sweep her into my arms and make another visit to that sweet valley between her breasts, then slowly explore the rest of her delicious body with my lips and tongue—to hell with every resolution I'd just made.

But in spite of the intensity of my desire, I held firm, hardening my heart and steeling myself to resist.

I can only imagine my expression. Whatever it was, it brought her up short, making her footsteps falter momentarily. But then she pressed her lips together in a determined line and strode toward me. Her ponytail swayed gently as she walked across the room, a silky pendulum that seemed to be marking our time together with the slow beat of a funeral dirge.