Jace (15 page)

He took her gasp, demanded her compliance as his mouth opened over hers, easing his tongue between her lips, expecting to have to search for her response, but instead finding it waiting. Her hands crept up over his shoulders and her fingers laced around his neck, the nails nipping his skin in an erotic invitation to take more.

He did, demanding the response that had always been his, getting it with a sigh of relief. No matter how she wanted to deny the emotional connection, it was there behind the fear, behind the desperation. It was there. And all he had to do was reach with his mind to find it. He did, locking her to him. Her moan, as she surrendered, was as betraying as any he’d ever heard.

“Ah, princess, I’ve missed you.”

The sadness that flowed over the energy between them told him of her fear that this was just physical. He drew her closer, sharing his heat and conviction with her.

“I didn’t just miss you for this, sweet Miri, though this is good. Very good. I missed your smile and your laughter, the way you get all feisty when I tease you, the way you smile when you’re happy.” He kissed her nose. “I just missed you.”

“I didn’t miss you.” There was more belligerence than truth in that statement.

“I just bet you didn’t. You were probably too angry at me to have charitable thoughts.” Her small start was another betrayal. She’d never been raised to hide her feelings. She’d been pampered and indulged. And if he had his way, she’d have gone to her grave with only a pampered, adored knowledge of life. However, nothing had gone his way. “I know about being angry, Miri.”

The break in her breathing was as telling as the quick dart of her tongue over her lips. “Who have you been angry with?”

“My brother.”

There was a lot of desperation in her “Why?” and a loss of substance. She was about played out.

He stood, easing off the intensity, but not letting go completely of the emotional link. “After you eat, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.”

“How you know?”

“Your stomach’s gurgling.”

Her hands slid to his shoulders. “What does it know? It’s just a stomach.”

He smiled. “Apparently, it has the good sense to know when it needs to be fed.”

“It also knows when it’s going to throw up whatever goes into it.”

Jace frowned. “You’re feeling nauseated?”

He placed his palm over her stomach, probing within. Her outer muscles were smooth, lacking tension, but when he probed beneath, he could feel the contraction of her stomach. The protest against being denied. The need for blood. His blood. “You need to feed.”

“What difference will it make if all I swallow comes right back up?”

“Not eat…feed.”

She blinked and stubbornness replaced tiredness in the faint lines etched around her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You’re married to a vampire. As much as you want to deny it, your life is bonded to mine. A blood exchange is necessary.”

“I won’t bite you.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because that
is
my choice.”

And she hadn’t decided to choose him. Jace brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Is that a challenge?”

A flare of panic, then she bit her lip before shaking her head. “No.”

No doubt she remembered how much he enjoyed a challenge. “I think it is.” He slid her to the side, steadying her with his arm around her shoulders before getting to his feet. “What’s more, I think I’m going to take you up on it.”

She took his hand. “Doesn’t what I want count for anything?”

He pulled her up. “What you want pretty much counts for everything.” He tapped her chin with his finger until she met his gaze. “But until you can look me in the eye, open your mind, and tell me to stay out of your life, I’m sticking around.”

It was a brutal thirty seconds while Jace waited to see if she’d send him packing. Seconds ticked by, but while Miri didn’t look away, she also didn’t say a word.

“This is your chance, princess. This is a chance to get me out of your life once and forever. All you have to do is open those pretty little lips and tell me to get lost.”

Her fists clenched. Her mouth worked, but she didn’t say a word. In some ways he wished she would. He wished she’d just light into him and tell him how angry she was, tell him what he had to do to fix it. He wished she’d let it out instead of keeping that pain buried so deep it was like a cancer, eating her from the inside out.

After a full minute had passed, he pulled her back into his arms. Her cheek pressed against his chest, the top of her head snuggling beneath his chin. Just like it always had. Again, the sense of rightness poured over him. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

Her arms came around his waist slowly, hesitantly. There was a change in her energy. A break in her defenses punctuated by a broken sob. His name came out a faint whisper. “Jace?”

“What?”

“Stick around. Please.”

She didn’t have to beg. “You prepared to give me a chance?”

“I want to.”

“Then it’s going to take a crowbar to get me out of your life.”

HE
managed to get her to eat a peanut butter sandwich. Even got her to drink some milk, though she swore she hated the stuff. He took the empty milk glass from her hand and placed it on the counter.

When he turned around, she was staring at him again. “What?”

She pushed her chair back and got up. “I’ll do the dishes.”

He took the plate from her hand halfway to the sink. “I think I can handle a milk glass, plate, and knife.”

“But you prepared it.”

“And you’re stalling.”

“I prefer to think of it as avoiding a fight.”

“Because you think you can out-stubborn me?”

“Because I know I can.”

He didn’t want to fight with her, either. “Maybe you should just distract me instead.”

She cocked her head to the side. Her hair fell over her shoulder. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

He motioned with the plate and gave her his best smile. “You could slip that shirt off your shoulder. You have very pretty shoulders.”

She snorted, a very ladylike snort that got her point across. He put the dishes in the sink, not taking his gaze from hers. “No striptease, huh?”

“You’ve seen all there is to see.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll ever get tired of looking at it.”

“I’m were, remember. I expect my mate to desire me. This is not impressing me.”

“Well, hell. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“No, what?”

“Some of my best lines are as good as dead and buried.”

A very wan smile touched her lips. “I guess so.”

Although her smile was wan, it was strong compared to her energy. Jace left the dishes and came to her side. He took her hand and brought her within scooping distance. She didn’t struggle when he picked her up. Just lay against him with a weary acceptance that worried him.

She patted his chest. “You did promise me a story.”

“How about I make it a bedtime story?”

Her hair spilled across his arm as she shook her head. “I want a shower first.”

“I can probably arrange that.”

“It’s a simple procedure that doesn’t require much arranging.”

He shook his head at her blindness. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to pamper you.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“Yup.” He set her down on the big bed. “What did you think I was doing?”

She leaned back. Her breasts thrust against her shirt. “I thought you were keeping tabs on me.”

Damn, she had pretty breasts. “Do I need to?”

She shrugged. “You’re pretty safe, at least until we find Faith.”

“You’ve put that much stock in me?”

Again, the shrug. “You’re all I’ve got. First mating isn’t a choice, and then there’s no other option.”

He leaned in, following her down as she fell back, catching his weight on his elbows, imprisoning her against the mattress with his body. “You don’t leave a man much confidence.”

She placed her palms against his chest. As barriers went, it wasn’t much. Especially when he took into account the way they rubbed in subtle enticement.

“I was going to take a shower.”

He settled his hips between hers. “I know.”

“What are you doing, then?”

He lowered his torso, and the softness of her breasts cushioned the last inch of his descent. “Stealing a kiss from my wife.”

“What if I don’t want to give you a kiss?”

The catch in her breath betrayed her interest. He didn’t answer until his lips were a shiver of a “Yes” from hers. “That’s why it’s called stealing.”

She grabbed his shirt, a fierce expression tightening the skin at the corners of her eyes. The tips of her canines flashed between her parted lips. “No one’s taking anything from me, ever again.”

He didn’t move, just let her aggression surge over him, tracing it back to its origin, funneling it off. “Then why don’t you give it to me instead?”

Those fangs sank into her lower lip. Her head canted the slightest bit to the side, lifted… The hardest thing he’d ever done was to not bend his neck and take what they both wanted. “You’re killing me, Miri.”

Her “How?” whispered over his cheek.

“You know.”

“You’re hungry.”

“Starving.”

“For a kiss?”

“Your kiss.”

Her eyes closed for a poignant moment. “Oh, God, I’m so afraid to do this again.”

He couldn’t do anything but let her torment flow over him. Some things she had a right to decide for herself. “Do what?”

“Give myself to you again.”

He slid his hand between her and the mattress. “I never let you go.”

“But you wanted to.”

“Never.”

Her fingers fluttered over his cheek. “I thought you did.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and pooled at the corners “Why the tears?”

“Because I believe you.”

He brushed a tear away before it could fall. “And that hurts?”

“It all hurts.”

“Share it with me, Miri. All of it. Let it go, baby.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“I can take it.”

“I can’t.”

“Then kiss me instead.”

She did. A kiss salted with tears, flooded with heartache. A kiss that twisted his heart in his chest. Her lips parted, and he accepted the invitation, letting her into his soul, his mind, allowing her to keep herself apart, understanding why she felt she had to.

Her arms came around his neck, pulling him down. He went, giving her a bit more of his weight, groaning as her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling his groin to hers, wiggling a bit in a sensual greeting.

He caught her hip in his hand. “Easy.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Why?”

“Because you’re tired and hurting, and you’ve just lost a baby.”

Fear tainted the beauty of arousal. “It wasn’t something I wanted.”

He knew damn well she didn’t think of that lost baby as an “it.” The fact that she kept using that term when talking to him was telling. “But that baby was part of you.”

She blinked rapidly. “I didn’t want to betray you.”

“You didn’t.”

“They thought they’d found someone I would be compatible with. They implanted the fertilized egg, gave me drugs to keep it alive—”

He cut her off. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m not were, I’m vampire, and even before that I used to be known as a fair-minded son of a bitch.”

Her neutrality slipped. “I didn’t want him at first.”

“It was a boy?”

She swallowed and nodded. “I didn’t want him, but he was alive, part of me. Before they aborted it, I felt his presence.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I couldn’t hate him. I tried to shield him, but I couldn’t.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt, not making a sound, just crying tears that spoke of a pain too deep for words. He held her, giving her the only support he could, trying to imagine how that would have felt. To have a pregnancy forced upon her, to have felt the life, knowing a were husband wouldn’t tolerate another’s offspring, not knowing how he would have reacted, to have bonded with that first faint stirring and have it ripped away. He couldn’t, but he could give her one small bit of peace.

“I would have welcomed the child, Miri.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He tugged her head back and wiped the moisture from her cheek with the heel of his hand. “It matters to me. He would have been part of you. That alone would have made me love him.”

She sniffed. “Thank you.”

“You believe me?”

“Yes.”

At least she knew that much about him. “Thank you.”

His thumb wasn’t doing such a good job of cleaning up her face. “Hold on a sec.”

He unlocked her ankles from behind him and got up. When he came back she was almost asleep. He wiped her face with the warm washcloth, plucked a couple tissues off the bed stand, and handed them to her. When she finished blowing her nose, he held the small trash can for their disposal. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“How about we hold off on that shower until morning?”

“You were going to tell me a story.”

“I’ll tell you while you get ready for bed.”

She turned on her side and tucked her hand under her cheek. “I’m ready.”

Tenderness suffused him. “Then close your eyes.”

She was out before he brushed the hair off her face. He undressed her down to her underwear, pausing to take in the sharp edges of her ribs, the knifelike points of her shoulder blades. He pulled back the covers before laying her up on the pillows. He stripped down and slid in beside her, spooning his much bigger body around hers, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her into his heat. She murmured something. Maybe approval. He kissed her hair. “Sleep, princess. Things will be better tomorrow.”

T
HINGS
were not getting better. The conversion pain in Miri’s stomach was intensifying, the despair in her soul increasing as past and present warred with wrong and right. Everything in her wanted only one thing: the one thing she was afraid to accept. Jace. He lay in the big bed beside her, his hand cupping her thigh in his sleep, his warmth encompassing her in a persistent hug, but in some ways there might as well be miles between them. Miri turned on her side in the big bed, into the sleep-warmed heat of Jace’s embrace. The broad expanse of his chest filled her vision. Large bones padded with beautifully sculpted muscle. Totally masculine. Totally tempting. She placed her finger in the muscle cut just under his shoulder joint, where her mark would go if she decided to complete their union, before following the well-defined groove down over his side. Power and passion, that was Jace. The light dusting of dark hair on his chest tickled the back of her knuckles as she admired the visual proof of his strength. No wonder he made her feel both distinctly feminine and distinctly vulnerable at the same time. If he were the violent type, he could probably break her back with just a single blow.

She drew her fingers away until only the sensitive tips were bathed in the warmth of his skin. One of her greatest pleasures pre-Sanctuary had been to lay her cheek on his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart, feel her own slow its beat, hear his increase until they were in total synch. It made her feel safe, secure, part of a much greater whole. The way belonging to the pack did. That sense of total rightness was what had made the devastating decision to turn her back on her pack possible.

She understood now that it had been too easy. She was a female were brought up in security, her gender and lineage promising a life of pampering and adoration. If she had been thinking along with feeling she would have experienced at least a qualm at the prospect of leaving all she knew. Yet one look at Jace and the wildness he wore so easily, and she’d thrown herself into his arms, embroiled herself in his life because it called to the wildness in her that would never be let out as the cherished, protected mate of an Alpha were.

She did not want to make that mistake again.

She scooted up on the pillows, being careful not to jostle the bed and wake Jace. He got so little sleep. Aligning her face with his, she placed her hand on his chest, dead center between the slabs of his pectorals. Against the side of her thumb she could feel his heartbeat. Slow and steady and dependable, not the least erratic. Like the man himself.

I would have welcomed the child, Miri.

She believed him, which raised all sorts of havoc with her convictions again. A year and a half ago, she’d declared Jace all wolf. After her imprisonment, she’d declared him all vampire. Now she had to pick one extreme or the other or settle on a third option. That maybe he was a man she didn’t know as well as she should. The last was scary because it meant she had to look at him in a new light, evaluate him again with an open heart. Expose herself to hurt again.

She shifted on the bed, studying his expression, wishing the answers she sought were written on his face as clearly as was his confidence. She loved Jace’s face. Loved the way the wildness of his nature was etched in every harsh plane. The way the slash of his cheekbones proclaimed the predator within, the way the jut of his chin declared his determination. And right now, he was determined to complete the union between them. Moving slowly, she eased her cheek onto his shoulder. The pain in her stomach bit deeply. She didn’t know how much longer she was going to last against it. Jace’s vampire was definitely outmaneuvering her wolf when it came to pressure to complete the conversion. But she could hold out a little longer, give herself time to make the right decision. As if he heard her thoughts, Jace’s lashes flickered, and he frowned. The sheets whispered a warning as his hand moved, whispering again when his fingers opened across her lower back and pressed. She felt the touch of his power. The nausea abated and so did the pain, dropping out of her consciousness to beat harmlessly against an invisible buffer. The frown on Jace’s face smoothed out. He grunted in satisfaction.

Watching his expression for a couple of minutes, she assured herself he was still asleep before sighing and snuggling a little deeper into his embrace. She’d made a mistake a year and a half ago in judging him by were standards. Probably because a lot of things about his personality made her think of pack—his absolute loyalty to family, the honor that made his word his bond, his self-control, and his care for things that were weaker than him. Those were all very familiar Alpha traits, and what she’d clung to when making the decision to mate outside pack. She hadn’t wanted to see all of him. Just the part that was familiar, because that she could understand, and she’d needed the comfort of a husband she understood. In many ways, she was beginning to understand that the problems between them were her fault. Jace had never asked her to be more than she was, but she’d wanted him to change, to the point that she’d dismissed any part of him that hadn’t been wolf-like. Not a comfortable realization, but one she could no longer ignore.
I would have welcomed the child, Miri.

Again the calm statement, spoken with absolute assurance, replayed through her mind. It was no small gift Jace had offered her. Complete acceptance of her and all important to her, no questions asked. It would have been harder for a were to give that acceptance; their culture adored children, but male weres were defined by their ability to protect. A stolen mate returning with a child not his own would be hard for a were male to accept easily because of what it represented: failure in the two things he’d been reared to do, protect his mate and guard his pack. Jace, however, had a more open view. He was as aggressive as any wolf in guarding what was his, but in his world, “shit happened.” And when it did, people adjusted and moved on. It was a less absolute view of the world, and one she could appreciate, standing on this side of hell.

Ever so lightly, Miri touched the stubble on Jace’s cheek. The difference in her skin color from his was just another mark of the difference between them. Her coffee and cream fairness looked pale against his deep tan. Being vampire, he should be pale. He would blend better with other vampires if he was pale, but Jace wasn’t interested in blending. He wore his past of outlaw and gunslinger like all the Johnsons reportedly did—as a banner and a challenge. She smiled and touched her nose to his. Her outlaw. His eyes cracked open. A sleepy smile tipped his lips. “Morning.”

It was silly to feel shy, but she did. She scooted back. “Good morning, yourself.”

The mattress dipped as he shifted his weight more onto his side. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Achy. Depressed. Optimistic. “Better than last night.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re hedging?”

She let her palm come to rest against his cheek. “Maybe because I am.”

He reached up, his fingertips grazing her back, her shoulder, and her forearm before covering hers, holding them against his face. “Want to tell me why?”

Surprisingly, she did. “I never got to know the real you, did I?”

“That was my impression.”

Nothing in his inflection gave her any idea, plus or minus, how he felt about that. “I think I was afraid if I did, I’d have to let you go.”

His eyebrow kicked up. “You act like I wouldn’t have had a say in the matter.”

It seemed so natural to lie there his arms, drowsy from a full day’s sleep and talk about the past as the night settled like a soft dream around them. “In the pack, women do the choosing.”

Turning his head, Jace pressed a hot kiss to the center of her palm. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, betraying the smile still working its way fully to his lips. “And it’s the man who does the persuading.” Another kiss, a deeper smile, and the butterfly touch of his tongue. “And it would be a real pleasure to persuade you all over again.”

With a shimmer of sensation, his energy slipped over hers, increasing the illusion that it was just them in this room, in this house, in this time. It had been so long since she’d had that feeling of safety, that special peace, and she didn’t want to lose it by being afraid to take what was offered. “Maybe you should.”

Everything in him went still. “Should what?”

Now he had to go all obtuse. “For one thing, not question an invite once you get it.”

“Uh-huh.” He shifted over her. “I don’t want any more misunderstandings between us.”

She could accept that, but she couldn’t accept this distance between them. “Kiss me, Jace.”

He propped himself up on his elbow. His shadow fell over her. “Why?”

The roughness of his beard pricked her skin as she touched the pad of her thumb to the softness of his lower lip. This was hard, scary, and liberating all in one. “I need you to remind me of how it was.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He skimmed his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, until his fingers threaded through her hair at the nape of her neck. “The past is gone.”

The pain of his admission stabbed deep until his thumb tucked into the corner of her mouth and he whispered, “But I can show you how it’s going to be from here on out.”

Yes.
Something to hold on to. To believe in. That was what she needed. What they both needed. Her whisper was just as soft. “Show me.”

The flex of his muscles was the only indication that she’d surprised him. “What are you asking, princess?”

“I want you to make love to me, Jace. Not like a man seducing an innocent were with too many stars in her eyes. Not like a man who has something to make up for, but just as…you.”

His gaze narrowed. Invisible sparks arced between them in a sizzling perk of awareness.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Men have used my body for a lot of reasons.”

“I never used you.”

She touched his frown, understanding coming to her. “Yes, you did. In the nicest possible way, but in the short time we were together, part of the reason you made love to me was to persuade me to bond with you.”

Annoyance flashed from him to her. “I made love to you because it was damn pleasurable.”

“Yes, it was, but what was between us never got to grow into anything more. We ran out of time.”

His brow cocked. “But you want it to grow tonight?”

The skepticism in his “tonight” wasn’t lost on her. Neither was the hope in the word “want.” She pressed her thumb against his mouth in a parody of a kiss. “With everything in me, I want tonight with you.”

He adjusted his sexy, powerful body so it loomed fully over her, blocking the remnants of light that fed her night vision, plunging her into darkness where there was just the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, and the touch of his energy. “You sure you want me to make love to you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

The barest hint of a growl textured his drawl. “I’m asking for you to show me who you are.”

“I can be wild.”

She smiled, knowing he could see it and the anticipation flowing through her. “I know.”

“I might scare you.”

There were a lot of things she could imagine Jace doing to her, but scare her? That way wasn’t one of them. “No, you won’t.”

He paused, head canting to the side, allowing a bit of light between them. His thumb stroked her cheek. “I know you were raped, Miri.”

The ugly truth lay between them. She had been raped in the beginning, as a punishment and a form of persuasion, but as it hadn’t worked and had set back their experiments for two days, the Sanctuary vamps had moved their focus to other tactics. Tactics that had been so much worse. Methods that took her humanity away and made her into nothing more than a vessel for their goals. Until she’d felt like Miri had disappeared and number seven-eight-three-four was all that remained.

That rape of her individuality had been so much worse than the rape of her body. She turned her face away from the past and looked into Jace’s eyes, holding on to the emotion there, the caring, the way he saw her—as a person. His princess. She blinked back the sting of tears. “It doesn’t matter.”

He wouldn’t let it go, his gaze homing in with that internal radar of his to the turbulence churning in her mind. “It’s going to matter if I do something that triggers a memory.”

“There’s nothing you could do to trigger those memories.”
Except ask about them.
“And even if you do, I’ll control it.”

He was shaking his head before she finished the sentence. “I don’t want you to control it. I want you to trust me with what happened, let me help you through it.”

“I’ll be fine.” Miri scooted her hips closer to his. The kiss of his erection was a soothing balm to her worries. Even though there had been others, he still wanted her. Taking his hand in hers, she placed it on her breast.

As his fingers shaped to the curve, a sense of familiarity flowed with her indrawn breath. After so much wrong, this was so right. The sheer pleasure of it pulled her lids down.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

His drawl was a deep husk, the human equivalent to a satisfied growl. She didn’t hesitate. “How right your touch feels.”

His thumb stroked over her nipple, the calluses dragging against her sensitive flesh. “Compared to what?”

She frowned, not wanting to analyze the feeling, preferring to just enjoy it. “Compared to nothing. It’s just…right.”

She opened her eyes. He was watching her, his eyes lit with vampire heat, his expression fiercely tender and passionate.

“Yes, it is.”

This time his thumb lingered and pressed. A curl of heat spread from her nipple inward, stretching straight to her core. She lifted herself that fraction of an inch required to connect their bodies.

The sheets rustled. The mattress sank as Jace countered her move with one of his own. Not completing the connection, just holding it, reminding her he’d always been one for prolonging the moment, building the anticipation.

“This time it’s just going to be you and me,” she breathed.