Hemlock Veils (41 page)

He let his every reserve go as he kissed her, let it seep through his feverish skin and dissipate into the air, and when he brought his hand to her breast, she murmured a sound so sensual he could taste the delicious ecstasy. And he thanked God that he was the man lucky enough to hear it.

Arching her back, she pressed herself firmly against his hand, and her own hands became more aggressive. He pulled her from the countertop and secured her around him, her chest against his a euphoric sensation. With his thoughts on her red bed sheets, he rushed toward her bedroom, her hips already moving against him and her kisses filled with aroused sighs.

Control began slipping from him as he slammed her against her bedroom door, but that aggression seemed to fuel her, for she slid her feet into his pants, pushing them to the floor. She reached behind her as they kissed, opening her door, and he had barely stepped out of his pants before the edge of her bed hit his shins.

He threw her upon it with a growl that sounded too much like his darker side, and was over her at once, pinning her hands roughly to the sheets. She appeared frightened, or perhaps nervous, for the briefest second, but he entered her before his mind could get a hold on it. She inhaled sharply, a noise akin to a cry of pain, and his own breath left him abruptly, his voice a gravelly sound as he murmured her name. He wondered if he should stop, but she felt better than he had expected. It surrounded him, the physical presence of her being, and though he would stop in an instant if she desired, taking away such contact would be a bitter death.

Then her body relaxed, moving with him, and when she intertwined her fingers with his, all was right. The more in sync they became, the less he could align his thoughts.

He slowed, since he longed to live every moment inside her, and met her eyes. Something he once thought an impossible feat: face to face in the moment of intimacy. But
this
was true intimacy. And it felt more natural and easy than anything in his life. It was just one of the many ways Elizabeth was different than the rest. She offered him hope above all things, and the sight of her below, giving him every part of herself, demanded urgency.

Wrapping his arm beneath her, he propped himself up with his other. While holding her close, her body arching to his and his own rolling with every thrust, he twisted her moist hair around his hand, firmly taking hold and forcing her mouth to his. With her body imprisoned, the air between them was humid, and at the intense and carnal rise of his climax, he heaved a groan into her mouth, and then another. Her fingers dug roughly into his arm, her own body tensing, and she could hardly kiss him, her breath a whimper as she attempted to keep her tongue mingled with his.

It was in that carnal, almost animalistic moment, Henry’s wounds healed. It was trust, it was liberation, and it could come only by a moment like this.

***

When all had slowed and little elements of reality floated down to Henry, he kissed Elizabeth softly, relaxing his body over hers, for the first time in his life feeling truly tranquil. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift on that tranquil sea, allowing the weightless, euphoric burning of his every muscle to keep him afloat. He laid his head over her heart, desperate to hear it. It had become one of his favorite sounds over the past month, and its rapid rate made a good companion with their winded breaths. In that moment, the air stilled and every star aligned. And this was the start of a new life.

He caressed her ribs, kissing her chest. Her skin was still sultry, and now that tranquility had come over him, he ran his eyes over her with no hurry, taking in every exquisite edge that caught the rays of sunlight. His lips continued to explore her as he did, the action beyond his control, and her chest breathlessly shuddered beneath him. His hand followed, slowly, lightly tracing over the condensation on her skin, and he knew she was meant for him. She’d always been; forty-nine years of punishment, and then her. And it had been worth every minute, the punishment.

Her hand found his and he took it, kissing her palm and wrist. She wore a fresh bandage on her arm and he tried not to look at it, tried not to let it remind him he should still hate himself. He looked up instead, and his heart stopped. Tears dwelled in the corners of her eyes, replacing ones that had already left streaks on her skin. He lifted himself onto his elbow, wiping them away with his thumb. “I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asked, somewhat anxiously, feeling ill. “Did I—?”

She shook her head in earnest. “No, Henry,” she whispered. “I just didn’t know I would ever get to experience this with you. And I’ve never felt so…complete. I’ve never…” The words caught in her throat, and it was almost strange to him that Elizabeth, who always knew what to say to him, couldn’t speak.

“I know,” he said just as quietly, resting his forehead on hers. “Me either.” She kissed him, intertwining her leg with his. An unmeasured moment passed while he stared into her eyes and she into his, and the fear he once felt seemed like something from another life. With an unsteady swallow, he admitted, “I was afraid of you. More than I’ve ever been of anything.”

“Why?”

“Because the first time I looked into your eyes, I saw it. I saw that you were going to change everything for me. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful, Elizabeth, not ever. I wanted to prove myself wrong, wanted to prove you were like the rest. But…I never could, because you’re nothing like them.” He paused, attempting to hide the emotion in his voice, not so successfully. “And then it changed into fear of hurting you, and losing you. What if I woke up one morning and you weren’t here?”

Her eyes spoke what words couldn’t, her palm soft against his rough cheek.

“I still don’t understand how you can see me the way you do, and that will never change. I want you to know I will never think myself worthy of you.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he placed his thumb over her lips and continued, “But I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to.” He swallowed. “I need you. And though I don’t deserve it…I beg you to let
me
love
you
.” She pulled his face against hers. “I’m not proud of the things I’ve said, but…”

“Don’t,” she breathed, still holding the back of his neck.

He chuckled. “You won’t even let me get in a damn apology.”

“Because I know, Henry.”

“You know how much I’m in love with you?” His voice sounded small with emotion, even fear—different than the fear he’d felt in the past.

She nodded, knitting her brow. “Yes. And I love
you.
That’s all we need.”

Closing his eyes, he fought the stinging behind his lids, and he would never understand. But he would be thankful for it every day for the rest of his life—for her, and that she loved him. “I can’t hide anymore,” he whispered. “But you must know your life is in danger with me.”

“You’re trying to push me away again?”

He shook his head. “No. I just want to make sure you realize the risks, because the smart thing would be to walk away, and I would understand if you did.”

She appeared offended. “I could never walk away, especially now.”

Relief eased from his exhale. “Then you have me, and I’ll do all I can to make you happy. I’d do anything for you, Elizabeth, because you’re everything to me.” He swallowed. “But I want to make one thing clear.”

A question lifted her brow.

“I’ll always protect you, even when you don’t think you need it. I know you said you don’t want it, but…now that the saving each other is accomplished, I think the time for protecting is at hand. Do we have a deal?”

“As long as you’ll let me protect
you
.”

He laughed, just barely. “And just what would I need protecting from?”

“I don’t know yet.” She searched his eyes and her gravity made him swallow hard. “But you’re not the only one who’d do anything.”

Chapter 25

Elizabeth admired Henry’s abdomen, his diaphragm lifting with each breath. A contentment she’d never experienced settled over her as she lay atop him, skin to skin. It was late in the morning, the sun high through the blinds she’d opened an hour before. They were both hungry, she could tell from the growling of his stomach, but neither had suggested rising from her bed. He kept his sturdy arm around her and his lips in her hair, and by his measured inhalations, she guessed he was asleep.

She traced her fingers along the narrow trail of hair that led from his navel to the blanket’s edge, then moved them to the wound on his side. It was hardly a wound anymore though, looking weeks past the healing process. Very gently, she felt the smooth, light pink skin, puckered together, and she had to admit her sewing job two nights before hadn’t been half bad for a nursing school dropout under stress.

“Ouch,” he breathed, and the sound of his voice almost startled her. It’d been a long while since either of them had spoken.

Pulling her fingers away, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I thought it was better.”

He smiled, running his hand into her disheveled hair.

“Not funny.” But, God, that smile…

“I was never good at jokes, remember?” Still he smiled the smile that left a kernel of joy turning in her heart.

Looking at his scar again, she ran her thumb over it as gently as before. “Does it hurt?”

“I guess I’m worse at jokes than I thought.”

“Not this.” She met his eyes. “When you…change?”

Tightening his fingers in her hair, he pulled her closer. “I’m used to it.”

“I’d give anything to take away your pain, Henry.”

“You already have,” he barely whispered. “I mean it when I say I’ve never been this happy. Not ever. I didn’t know I was allowed to be.” She kissed him, and her desire spiked along with her emotions.
Swim in this joy while you can
, instinct told her.
Before it’s too late
.

***

Elizabeth had just tied her robe, ready to search her kitchen, when Regina called. It was the fourth time that day, and convincing Regina that she was all right—just taking the day off to relax—was a grueling task, especially because Henry’s lips attacked hers every time she spoke into the phone. But eventually Regina let it go with Elizabeth’s promise that she would be back to work in the morning, bright and early.

Elizabeth threw her phone on the table, glowering at Henry, who smiled as he kept his arms snugly around her. And she would never tire of that feeling, his arms being around her. “If you keep that up, we have no hope of keeping this secret.”

His eyes sobered. “Maybe I don’t want to keep this secret.”

She pulled back in surprise, wondering if a time would come when this side of him wouldn’t so pleasantly catch her off guard. With a smile, she matched his squeeze, securing her arms around his neck.

A gurgle broke the silence. Then a growl, emerging from his stomach.

“Ignore it,” he said with a subtle roll of the eyes.

“I have an idea,” she chuckled. “I prepared a whole sheet of almond tarts last night, and they’re just waiting in the fridge at Jean’s.”

“Dessert for dinner?”

When his mouth lowered, she lifted on her tiptoes to meet it. If Henry’s kisses alone could sustain her, she would live indefinitely.

“But…” He hesitated, and she sank at the reluctant tone in his voice. “At sunset, you’re coming back.”

She folded her arms.

The way his sigh came with measure and control said he was trying to exercise patience.

“If you’re staying out, so am I.”

“Elizabeth, she might still be out there. I don’t feel good about it, not until she’s gone.”

“She will never be gone, as long as you live.”

The weight in his eyes nearly crushed her, and she felt it in the same way he did. “I know,” was all he managed.

“I thought you didn’t want to hide.”

“I don’t. But you…”

“I’m not hiding from her.”

“Dammit, Elizabeth, she could kill you faster than I could save you!”

“So what do you propose then, Henry? I live the rest of my life hiding away?”

“I—” He cut himself off, out of mere irritation it seemed. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But remember what I said about protecting you? Well, that’s what I’m doing, and if it takes pissing you off to get you to stay inside, then I’ll sure as hell do it.”

His face darkened, his features stunning in anger, and she grasped his arms, looking into his chocolate caramel eyes. She wanted to tell him to have faith in her…in them. But the soaring of her own doubts left her speechless. Instead she asked, with fluttering anticipation, “Why is it she doesn’t want us together? How can your curse be broken, Henry?”

He shifted his jaw, but then pulled her to the couch and sat her down. He took the large book from the coffee table and opened to the section about
Aglaé
, his finger toying with the page’s edge. “I’m sure you know this, but only some are cursed as monsters.” He told her all of it, told her—with a hint of shame—more about his frequent escapades to the Heathman Hotel and the night
Aglaé
first came to him, how she tested him and he failed, a woman’s murder on his hands.

“Henry,
surely
you can’t blame yourself for that.” She raised her voice when he shook his head. “You were under a spell! No man would have been able to fight it.”

“Some can. I
could
have. I was aware of my logical side while it was happening, and all I had to do was listen to it. But it was beyond me. I didn’t want to, Elizabeth. Because of me, she died.”

Elizabeth took the book from his lap and searched the page, then pointed to the paragraph explaining
Aglaé’s
irrational and unpredictable nature. “See, right here. She’s unjust. It was an unfair test, Henry. She targets men like the one you were, and she will do anything to take complete control. That’s what she’s done. And everything that’s happened since then has been because of
her
, because of what
she
did to you.”