Microsoft Word - 1606017438-Of-Night-and-Desire-Bailey.doc (11 page)

“Night is upon us. We need to return to the cabin. You will need to gather your belongings for you will not return there. They know where to find you now.”

“Who are they?”

Valya didn’t want to tell her, but she needed to know the truth. The last thing he needed was for her to fight him in his decision. He needed to hide her away, at least until he could take care of the old priest.

“They are called the Believers, religious fanatics who follow the preaching of a madman.”

“Why would they kill my mother? And what do they want from me?”

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He could hear the pain in her voice. Although it had been more than twenty years, she still keenly felt the death of her mother.

“He believes you are the key to destroying my people, or rather what he believes us to be.”

* * * *

She thought on his words. She recalled what the old priest had said to her mother:
God has decreed it. She is mine.
She felt a cold chill down her spine and shivered against Valya. And he, in response, wrapped her tighter in the warmth of his embrace, his expression unchanged.

Her heart skipped a beat at his pronouncement that she would not be staying at the cabin. She had just returned home after being gone so many years and now he was taking her away. He placed his hand upon her cheek and lovingly stroked her skin with his thumb. Gazing up at him, she could feel his regret at the decision.

“I know how much you love it here in the mountains, Richelle. I would not take you away from your home unless it was necessary.”

Richelle leaned against his palm and nodded. Shifting her to his side he began to rise. She watched in rapt fascination as he stood. His chest expanded when he spread his arms wide embracing the night like a welcome lover. The muscles in his biceps flexed with every movement. He stretched his arms upward and leaned his head back, taking a deep breath of the night air. She let her eyes roam over his body and smiled in appreciation.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his powerfully built body. The soft glow of the campfire played against his tawny skin and gave it an unnatural golden glow, as if it could absorb the power of fire and then emit its own illumination. With the exception of the chocolate brown hair that hung to his shoulders, his body was devoid of hair. Smooth, she could see every dip and ripple of his lean and muscular frame.

Abruptly, his arms dropped to his sides, and his head snapped down where his gaze could meet hers. His eyes were the same chocolate brown as his hair but darkened to black as he gazed at her, the muscle in his cheek ticcing. She could not stop the onslaught of his emotions under his intense scrutiny. She felt the admiration of her strength and courage, his devotion to her, and his mounting desire.

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Her body grew hot as his gaze intensified. His nostrils flared like a beast scenting his prey. Her eyes grew wide and she was overcome with a feeling of panic. So many emotions in such a short time she didn’t know how to handle them. Happiness, sadness, hatred, fear, desire—it all left her with an overwhelming need to run away.

Her heart beat faster, thumping like a drum in her chest. Used to hiding from everything and everyone, she didn’t know if she could adjust to her changing world. She shrank away from him, only for a moment, but Valya had seen it and sensed her agitation. Reining back his growing lust, he extended his arm, his hand upturned. He waited for her to place her hand in his, a show of trust. He stood motionless while she stared at his hand contemplating. It seemed like an eternity, though it took no more than a few moments to make her decision. With misgivings but a look of wonder and trust upon her face, she placed her hand in his and he helped her to her feet.

“We need to return to the cabin and gather your things. I am sorry to take you away, Richelle. But it is necessary for your safety.”

She nodded as he began to lead her out of the cave.

“Wait, Valya. We can’t go out there like this. You have no clothes and my slip…”

Before she could finish her sentence, they were clothed. She was in a long, flowing dress similar to the one she wore earlier, with longer sleeves to protect her from the chill of the night. It was so much softer, like doe-suede, only the fabric floated softly as she moved. Valya wore the same black pants and shirt she had always seen him wear in her dreams.

His jeans and t-shirts don’t fit him. They’re the right size, but the style is
wrong
, she mused. With his courtly manner and affected speech, she imagined him better suited in the Renaissance period. Her romantic fancies pictured him upon a dark horse, wearing a burgundy bard shirt belted with a scabbard. His dark breeches would blend into the horse he rode bareback, with his high-top boots pressing into the sides. Wearing a long black cape flowing in the wind, he looked every inch the lord of the manor. She liked that vision…a lot.

The man has absolutely no imagination when it comes to his wardrobe
, she thought wryly.

He turned to face her, his face stoic at first but softening as he smiled at her.

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“No, I have no imagination. I need only the basics, something to cover me and help me blend into the night. No more, no less.”

Richelle smiled back as he squeezed her hand, gently pulling her to the mouth of the cave.

“Come. There is a bit of a walk to the cabin. We must gather your things and leave before the dawn rises.”

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Their walk back to the cabin was silent. There was nothing to say. Valya wrapped his mind around hers, creating a calming effect. Richelle thought it felt more like weightless armor protecting her against anything in the night that might infringe upon her mind and cause her pain. It was a new sensation, having someone this close but not feeling any pain. It was more than comforting. It was comfortable.

Despite the urgency to leave the mountains before Preacher and his followers could find them, they walked along looking like nothing more than a young couple taking a moonlight stroll in the woods. Neither of them said a word. Valya held her hand gently in his as he led the way and she followed a half step behind. All the while she stared at his muscular form as he strode assuredly along the darkened path.

In spellbound fascination she watched his strong and agile figure move with each step, in graceful beauty similar to a ballet dancer. With each step, his hair swayed in the night breeze. Intermittently, he would look back at her and give her a small smile, his eyes flashing golden glints like a cat prowling through the shadows.

Richelle admitted she had never seen a finer specimen of masculinity, at least not one that made her feel like she was being roasted slowly over a bed of coals. She could feel her face reddening, growing warm, feverish, almost as feverish as the heat she felt building in her stomach and spreading downward between her legs. She gasped inwardly and then admonished herself for such scandalous thoughts.

Valya stopped suddenly and tightened his grip on her hand. A low growl rent the night’s calm and caused her body to tingle. He hung his head, his dark mane falling forward to hide his eyes as his voice timbered low.

“You shouldn’t think such thoughts.”

“I’m sorry,” Richelle stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

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Valya whirled on her and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to rest her flailing hands upon his chest to steady herself from slipping on the uneven path. She gazed into his eyes, the golden glint swirling with shades of brown and scarlet as his emotions coursed through him.

“You did not offend me,” his rich voice crooned, reaching deep into her soul and hypnotically drawing her to him. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his eyes piercing her with their intensity and causing her heart to beat faster.
You aroused me.
She gasped at his unspoken words. Standing so close, her panted breaths brushed against his skin while her womb clenched.

His nostrils flared as if he could smell her budding arousal. He growled low and long. He leaned down toward her shoulder and inhaled her scent deeply.

She tipped her head toward the side, baring her throat while he continued to breathe in her aroma. He placed warm, wet kisses up her throat column.

When he reached under her chin, she tipped her head back, letting her hair cascade along her back. Valya’s chest rumbled his approval. His hand slipped into her luxurious mane, the silken strands caressing his calloused hands. He pulled back to gaze at her lovely face, her eyes dreamy, her lips parted slightly.

Moaning low, he lowered his head slowly and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. The gentle brush of his mouth was not nearly enough to douse the fire burning within her. She raised her hands to his chest to steady herself as he slipped his other arm about her waist, pulling her closer into his steely embrace. Deepening the kiss, he thoroughly tasted every portion of her mouth— her lips, her tongue, the soft upper palate, the smoothness of her teeth. No nuance was left untouched.

She felt his body growing excited in response to her movements in his arms. She shifted closer, stretching her entire length against him. With a sharp hiss, he pulled away. Confusion along with pleading warred in her eyes as she stared up at him. She could sense his need for more.

“Not here. Not now.”

She lowered her eyes in contrition. She didn’t understand what was wrong with her. She had spent her life keeping her emotions under tight control, but whenever she was near Valya, she had a compelling urge to let them run free like a child through a meadow.

“You’re right,” she concurred, but she couldn’t help but feel

disappointment at the abrupt ending of their kiss.

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“But later. Definitely later.”

Mesmerized, she gazed into his eyes. Placing her fingers against his lips she nodded. He took her hand in his.

“We need to get to the cabin.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she was not able to get her voice to work so she mutely nodded. Her legs trembled slightly as he turned and continued walking down the path. Mindlessly, she followed, unable to think clearly after that soul-scorching, toe-curling kiss he had given her. She could still feel the warmth of his lips pressing against hers. Unseen by Valya, she placed her fingertips along her mouth. Her lips still tingled from the contact.

She tried to control the emotions rising to the surface, the emotions that he was drawing out of her with his mere presence. She wasn’t sure if she could handle these new feelings. This was unfamiliar territory, having suppressed her feelings since childhood. In many ways, it was easier to go through life without the entanglements of emotions.
If you didn’t get close to
someone then you didn’t get hurt.

Everyone she had been close to, anyone she loved, died—her mother, Duncan, Alma. She lived in fear of losing anyone close. She lived in pain caused by the unrestrained emotions of people around her. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in fear of living, but she didn’t know any other way, and change was scary. The more time she spent with Valya the more she realized she had been merely existing, not truly living. Of course, it was a tiring existence, holding everyone off at a distance, pushing those away if they got so close as to find a weak link in the invisible shield she wrapped herself in.

It was also a lonely existence.

And she had grown tired of being lonely.

* * * *

Valya felt the turmoil within her and empathized with her plight. His emotionless demeanor was a result of nature, while Richelle’s had been a direct result of nurture. Her childhood had been burdened with detachment, distance, and duplicity. How he wished she could have had a “normal”

childhood—days spent playing in the sun, exploring and experiencing all the extraordinary miracles of ordinary adolescence, learning the new things only

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a child could understand instead of the cold and sheltered existence that was the foundation of her upbringing.

He speculated on how different she would be now with the carefree remembrances from childhood. He had noticed she never smiled, and he had never heard her laugh. She was so very serious. Children’s lives should be filled with laughter, and yet not once had he heard her laugh. His heart filled with the enviable thought he would be the one to make her smile, make her laugh. It became a compulsory need that Richelle be taught to be carefree and frivolous.

He looked back at her and smiled at the brooding expression on her face. When he squeezed her hand lightly and raised it to his lips to give her a chaste kiss, her expression softened. He flipped her hand over to kiss the skin of her sensitive wrist, and on impulse, he licked at the beating pulse. He chuckled as she closed her eyes and released a soft sigh. He drew her hand to his chest, placing it over his heart as he petted along her arm to offer her comfort.

“Have you been very lonely, Richelle?”

* * * *

She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, concern evident in his earnest expression, and her heart softened. She raised her other hand and placed it on his cheek, trying to ease some of his apprehension. She smiled back at him.

“Not very.”

He pressed her hand closer against his heart as the tension drained away from her gentle efforts to relieve the anxiety he felt at leaving her alone for so long. He pulled her hand from his face and kissed her hand and wrist the same way as the first before placing it on his chest as well.

“Liar,” he muttered inaudibly, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him.

Her eyes dropped for a moment before she met his steely gaze.

“Not at first. I had Duncan. I had the wolves on the mountain, and the other animals from the forest to keep me company.”

“And later?”

She licked her lower lip before capturing it with her teeth. He groaned at the image.