Falling for Grace (Four Winds) (5 page)

She wasn't sure if it was the drinks, or the music, or what, but she had a sudden surreal experience, like she wasn't exactly inside her body.  She was watching herself, dance with this man, and enjoy it, but she wasn't exactly herself. 

A familiar green haze fell over her conscious, and a voice inside her head said, "Be careful, Grace."

Grace shook her head to clear it, and the green haze faded, but didn't entirely go away.  Another voice inside her head said, "Have fun, Grace.  Trust yourself."  The second voice sounded a lot like Damien's voice, and his face looked down at her with a satisfied smile, sending a shudder through her body.  His leg pressed against her, causing a hot pressure to build in her core, and his arms tightened, urging her against his hard body.  She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her hip, and it alarmed her slightly.  But when she looked into his face, something shifted inside her, making it alright somehow.

Damien's hands on her body were like nothing she'd ever known.  They filled her with desire and an unquenchable need.  Something about his hands made her desperate, somehow.  She rode his leg to the beat of the music, his hands caressing her back, feeling the heat of desire as it flushed her body.

His fingers trembled as they crawled up her backside and across her back.  She could feel his cool breath on her face, and she looked up at him to see eyes hooded with desire.

"Grace…"  He mouthed her name.  She couldn't hear it, but she could feel it rise through his chest.  He lowered his mouth to her
ear, “Want to get out of here?”  His voice was seductive, and it sent a shiver through Grace, leaving her breathless.  She could only shake her head at him.

Suddenly, she felt another presence behind her, and Damien's eyes clouded in anger.  Another hard body pressed against her back, and Rafe's familiar hands came around her waist to her stomach.  Grace was in a hot-guy sandwich, and she realized that Rafe was dancing, but stiffly, as if he was angry.  She turned, awkwardly, still bouncing to the beat, and saw Rafe glaring over her shoulder at Damien, his green eyes flashing, jaw clenched. 

Then he spoke, and a slightly guttural sound came from his clenched lips.  "
D'Khatsea aarkheku Oma-eyonea."

Damien seemed to melt away, his presence fading, as Rafe grabbed her hand and led her back to the table, her head spinning from the sounds that had just come out of his mouth.

"You're probably tired from dancing so much.  Take a break?"  His affable smile was back, but there was still a disturbing presence in his eyes.

"What language was that?"  The confusion in Grace's voice matched her feelings at the moment. The surreal out-of-body feeling was gone, and she was breathless with its absence.

Rafe shrugged, nonchalantly and continued to lead her to the table.

She realized she was tired and sank into the chair next to Brad, as she looked at her drink.  She needed a new one, but Rafe was already on it.

"I'll get this round."  He left her and Brad at the table.

"My god, woman.  You turn on every guy in this place," Brad said into her ear, clasping her hand to his lap, where she could feel his erection.  She smiled at him, seductively, glad he wasn't mad.

"Yeah, that last guy was pretty…out there," she acknowledged, even though something attracted her to Damien.

"I sent Rafe in to get him off you.  He seemed pretty willing to help out.  I didn't care much for the way he looked at you."  Brad smiled at her sheepishly.

"I thought you liked it when I danced?" 

"I do.  It's just that particular guy.  There was something about him that I didn't like, that's all."  He squeezed her hand.  "Besides, I think you were getting a little too worked up out there.  I wanted you to myself for a little while."  He nuzzled her neck and nibbled on her ear, until she turned her head and kissed him.  He responded, eager hands clutching her thigh and going around her waist.  Grace could taste the liquor on his mouth and realized he had been sitting there, getting drunk while he watched her dance.  One of his hands reached up to cup a breast, and he groaned into her mouth.

"When can we go home?"  He mumbled against her mouth.

"When every body else is ready, you horn-dog," she giggled at him.

Brad broke away from her, gasping and needy.  She could tell he was totally turned on and was more than willing to go home with him.  After the dancing she'd done tonight, she was turned on, too.

Chapter Seven

Rafe lay in his bed, gazing at the ceiling, listening to Grace and Brad in the next room.  He heard the murmurs, then the kisses, the sighs, the groans, then finally, the knocking of the bed against the wall, accompanied by Brad's grunts and Grace's moans.

He smiled to himself as he heard her fake the orgasm, but it was short-lived.  She belonged to someone else.  Never mind that Rafe knew she was thinking of him. 

While she'd made love to her boyfriend, Rafe was inside her head.  It gave him a small amount of pleasure to know that she thought of him that way, but he wanted more.  It would come, though.  His plan was in place, and taking effect.

He realized that he'd done it.  He was living here, with her.

He'd infiltrated the lair, so to speak.

Rafe had actually managed to be alone with her for awhile today, and it felt great to spend so much time with her like that.  He wanted to tell her everything, but he knew it was too soon.  He just needed to bide his time for a little while, until he could tell her without her totally freaking out.

He understood the feelings he was having.  Uriel had explained them to him.  When he'd asked the Boss several years ago, if it was possible, the Boss had explained about the light and the dark feelings of love, but Rafe hadn't understood completely.  Even after Uriel fell, Rafe didn't totally get it.

He was starting to understand, now.

Rafe had wanted to hurt Brad tonight.  When he'd opened the door to him, Rafe wanted to punch him in the gut, to see him doubled over in pain.  And he'd never wanted to hurt anyone before.  The ever-present heat in his gut, when he was around Grace, had transformed to something malevolent when he'd met Brad.

Rafe was supposed to be the healer.

But all that was nothing compared to what he'd felt when the Deceiver had made a play at the club.  Rafe had been so caught up in the exhilaration of dancing with Grace that he hadn't noticed him until Brad had said something.  The smile had been wiped right off Rafe's face when he'd seen the "punk" Brad pointed out.  There was no mistaking the evil intentions radiating off of the Deceiver.  He should have been watching for him.  Uriel had warned that he might come around.

The Deceiver always stirred the pot.

Rafe had been a part of Grace's life for three years, now.  He'd first heard her cry after she lost the little boy Alex.  He'd gone to her then, but she didn't realize it, and he'd been with her ever since, trying to make sure she didn't go through that loss again.  Her cries had torn him into pieces.  Rafe had talked to the Boss about it, but he'd just denied him, unwilling to help.

The truth was, Rafe wanted love.  He had wanted it for centuries.  Humans had sung about it, written poetry, painted pictures, and more recently, made movies.  Throughout time, humans had both lived and died for love.  Rafe only wanted to experience it. 

Rafe had tried having sex, thinking that making love to women would create the emotion.  But it didn't work that way.  Sure, the act was enjoyable, like eating was, or sleeping.  It was something to do, in order to appear more human, because all the humans did it.  But it wasn't the real thing.

He'd talked to the Boss about that too.  But at the time, He hadn't been interested in letting him go for love.  Something had changed that, though.  The Boss was giving them the choice, and Rafe knew what his would be.

He wanted to fall for Grace.

She lived to save people.  Just as he was created to heal, Grace spent her days watching for people to get into trouble, so she could help them.  Rafe had spent time with lifeguards before, as part of his job, and he knew that a lot of them were arrogant, much like Brad, the power of saving lives going to their heads.

But Grace wasn't as egotistical as most.  Sure, she was proud of her life-saving skills, but it was different from overbearing arrogance of the others.

He hadn't even seen her until that day on the beach after she'd saved the man who fell from the jetty.  Rafe had always just seen inside her head, watching her as she saved people, felt the emotion and adrenaline that coursed through her as she went through her motions.  Rafe felt a kinship with her, some sort of connection.  But when he'd finally seen her for the first time, his mouth had gone dry, as she emerged from the surf, dragging the man on the backboard, face etched with concentration.  Water had beaded off her lithe body in rivulets, and her toned muscles bunched under her tanned skin.

She was absolutely breathtaking to look at.

When things in the room next door quieted down, he could hear the even breaths of their slumber, Grace's lighter than Brad's.  He focused on her breathing, listening to it for signs of the nightmare.  He didn't think she would have it tonight.  She usually only had the nightmare after a save, like this afternoon.  He had interrupted it on purpose.  Knowing she was afraid, killed him.  He was planning on waiting until the arranged time to show up, but when she dreamed, he could see her, and he'd been watching her when she'd had the nightmare.

That was another thing he'd never experienced before.  He'd sympathized with humans, but he'd never empathized.  He'd felt bad for the experiences they went through, but nothing like the sheer terror and sorrow that he'd felt when he realized Grace was struggling with the nightmare again.  He'd wanted to bust down the door and go into her room and hold her, comfort her, make her better.

Realizing she was asleep in the room right next door, Rafe closed his eyes and reached out to her, just for a little visit…

A couple of days later, Rafe was hanging out at Yaga's, where Nicole worked, reading the local paper.  He was tired of exploring the island while his roomies were working, and he certainly didn't want to hang out around the house all day, surrounded by Grace's things.  He needed to get to know these women, make friends with them.  As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just sit on the beach and watch Grace lifeguard all day long.

Even if it was his first choice.

He was munching on a hamburger and fries, to have a reason to be there, while skimming the newspaper.  Sitting at one end of the bar, he was watching the place out of the corner of his eye.  Nicole had been friendly to him, and then left him alone to tend to the rest of the bar.  At the other end, was a man she was speaking to warmly, who appeared to be a regular.  He was hunched over a beer, his second since Rafe had gotten there, and looking glassy-eyed at the wall behind the bar.  He smiled vaguely at Nicole as she tended to him, before moving on to other customers.

The place was crowded for the lunch rush, and Rafe saw a table not too far behind the man full of teenagers.  They were loud, and getting louder, whether to compete with the noise of the establishment, or just because they were young and stupid, Rafe couldn't tell.  One of them, who appeared to be the dominant member of the group, was twitching his leg in jerks, and tearing bits of napkin up to toss at the man at the bar.  The man didn't react at all.

  Each toss that landed on the man's back, stuck there, and earned riotous laughter from the table full of boys.  Rafe sympathized with the man, who was either ignoring them well, or was completely oblivious.  The laughter and verbal jabs rose in intensity, and finally Rafe stood.  It was getting on his nerves, and he was going to ask them to stop it, for his own peace of lunch, when Nicole came around the bar and interceded.

"I got this, Rafe.  Sit back down," she mumbled under her breath as she stalked over to the table and put her hands on her hips.  "You guys need to stop this, or you're going to have to leave.  Eat your lunch.  We have customers waiting for this table."  To illustrate her point, she motioned to the doorway, where there was a line of people, looking expectantly inside.

That seemed to quiet them down a little, and Rafe was able to get back to his thoughts of Grace, where he was really starting to feel at home. 

He knew from millennia of people-watching and head-hopping, that he couldn't just swoop in and make Grace fall in love with him.  But knowing that The Boss had given him this opportunity, he didn't want to blow it.  Rafe wasn't sure how long he would have, or if the process of "falling" had already begun, or even if it was possible.  He only knew that people fell in love all the time, and a lot of the times, it was the most unlikely of pairings.  History was riddled with them.

Rafe didn't know much about love, except that he had to experience it.  With Grace.  She was unlike any woman he'd ever known.  And he had to figure out a way to make her see him with a different set of eyes.

The boys were getting rowdy again.  Rafe saw one of them tell the others it was time to leave, but the jittery boy apparently outranked him.  Rafe wondered if he was under the influence of some substance.  That would explain his loud voice, the twitchy leg, and possibly some of his behavior.  He had gone back to tossing stuff at the man at the bar, this time his used ketchup packets.  Rafe stifled the indignation he was feeling.

That was new.  He had never felt indignant before, but he recognized it.  He was getting peeved on behalf of the man at the bar and wanted to stop these boys from embarrassing him, or worse.  One of the boys tossed a French fry with ketchup on it, and it stuck to the man's back.  Rafe had had enough. 

He stood again, and followed as Nicole strode back to the boys' table.

"Alright.  You guys need to leave.  Now."  Rafe admired her tone of voice.  It was no-nonsense, leaving no room for argument.

The twitchy boy stood, and as he did, his hand knocked his plate of food to the floor.  "Oops."  He didn't look sorry, at all.

"And you guys aren't welcome back in the future."  Nicole's calm demeanor was crumbling into an angry mess.  Rafe could feel it radiating off of her in waves.

"Food here sucks, anyways."  A mumble from the group.  Nicole's fists clenched, and she took a step forward.  Before she could beat the snot out of them, Rafe stepped forward, and gently laid a hand on the lead boy's shoulder.  He tried to shrug it off, angrily, but Rafe was bigger and stronger, and just tightened his grip.  He let the energy flow and felt the drugs in his system as they drained from his body.  Immediately the twitching stopped, and his eyes cleared.

"You need to leave quietly, now."  Rafe's voice was low, but intense, and the boy's eyes widened as his shoulders drooped with the lack of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Kay."  He turned, and to the other boys, mumbled, "Let's get out of here.  Go watch a movie or something." 

Rafe returned to his seat, amid a smattering of applause from surrounding tables.  After a few minutes, Nicole came up to him, setting a large ice cream sundae on the bar in front of him.

"You're a hero.  This is from that table over there.  They wanted to pay for your lunch, but that table over there," she pointed in the opposite direction, "has already done that."  She put her hands in her pockets.  "Thank you, Rafe.  I'm glad you were here today.  I could have handled them, but it wouldn't have been pretty, and I sort of need to keep this job."  She lowered her eyes, and Rafe was humbled by her gratitude.  He didn't think it came easily to her.

"No problem.  I'm glad I was here for it." 

He tucked into his ice cream, delighting in the cold creaminess combined with the warmth of the hot fudge, and got another idea.  The next time Nicole came around, he asked her, "When will everybody be home tonight?  I thought I might fire up the grill and cook for you ladies."

Nicole snorted.  "Ladies, my ass.  But we should all be home by sixish."  She grinned and waved as Rafe slipped off his stool and went to loiter at the grocery store.

That evening, at five-thirty, Rafe had everything ready to put on the grill, but he'd worked himself up into a completely sweaty mess.  He hadn't realized how hot it got in Galveston in August, and cleaning off the grill over the fire had him dripping.  Intent on having everything ready by six, he wasn't paying attention as he walked toward his room pulling his shirt over his head

And running right into Grace.

She had been coming out of the bathroom and apparently wasn't paying much attention either, as she slammed into his chest, knocking herself backward.  His hands flew to her shoulders to catch her before she stumbled, and Rafe was overwhelmed by the steamy scent that wafted off her.  The shower gel or lotion or whatever she used had a fruity smell, and mixed with her natural scent of sunshine and sea had Rafe breathing deeply, just to get his fill.  The aroma did strange things to his body, his heart pounded, his breath was harder to catch, and his groin tightened.