Shock and embarrassment filled her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” The words felt inadequate to Eve. She’d just invaded his feelings, shared her inner self with a man who’d stated earlier in the day that he wasn’t looking for a relationship with her.
“My fault as well and no harm was done.” Rafe’s eyes seemed harder now, the welcoming warmth notably absent. His face was stony, too. “As I explained to you earlier today, it’s a common hazard that two empaths encounter once they’ve formed an initial bridge.”
“But we weren’t even trying.” She frowned, perplexed at how easy it had been. “Surely, if all the Fae who’ve ever been…er…close to each other have this problem—”
He finished her thought for her. “They end up having ‘awkward’ moments such as we just had. Originally, I suppose the bridging existed to build a sense of community between members, but in the end it felt…invasive to those that wanted to be more independent. Which is one of the reasons why the Fae tend to seek relationships outside of the species.”
Eve looked away, staring out the window. The moon was still almost full, a silvery orb all alone in the blackness of space. Rather like how she felt at the moment. She didn’t like how Rafe had called their moment ‘awkward’ and ‘invasive.’ She’d thought it was quite lovely; warm and intimate and comforting. However, if that was how he felt about it, she’d better stay on her guard around him. Just as she came to that conclusion, Rafe reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, the slight brush of his fingers over her cheek sending a streak of warmth through her.
“Don’t.” His voice was gruff.
“Don’t what?” She slid him a sideways look.
“Don’t think that I dislike experiencing you. It’s just better if we show some restraint. In the end, it would be too difficult to part.”
“And do we have to part?” She couldn’t believe she’d said that and inwardly cringed.
He exhaled slowly, regret showing on his face. “Yes. Eventually. We’re too different. There are parts of my life you’d never understand.”
She turned to face him fully, studying his features, his firm jaw, the arch of his brow, his now shuttered eyes. Such a puzzle he presented. Reaching out, she touched his mouth then ran her fingertips over his jaw, down his throat to linger on the expanse of bare chest revealed by his gaping robe. A smile quirked her mouth. “Like I’ll never understand why you were wandering outside naked when it’s barely above freezing?”
His eyes crinkled, amusement showing in them. “That’s exactly it. You’d never understand.”
Eve cocked her head. “You could always try me.”
Interest flared in his eyes, and then he shook his head, laughing softly. “Don’t tempt me, Eve. Don’t tempt me.”
An imp must have taken possession of her, for suddenly she found herself standing on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips before spinning away and heading back to her room. “Me? Tempt you? Rafe McRae, what kind of a girl do you think I am?”
As she shut her door, the sound of him chuckling made her grin.
Chapter 28
Damien hefted another set of boards off the back of the truck and then dusted his hands on his pants. The smell of fresh cut lumber made his nostrils twitch while small motes of sawdust drifted past. Some clung to his damp skin while others added to the layer of dust that covered the old truck. He brushed a few persistent specks away from his eyes and then spat a few more out onto the ground. Surveying the remaining wood, he decided he was about half done unloading the planks.
Grabbing a bottle of water, he took a swig to ease his dry throat and then slowly replaced the cap while surveying his domain. It was a pretty place, not that he’d taken much notice these past weeks. An early morning mist shrouded the distant mountains and drifted across the lake. It twirled around the still starkly bare trees before lightly blanketing the grassy expanse that surrounded his temporary home. Through the white shroud, the faint hues of soft pink and gold could be seen staining the sky as they announced the return of the sun.
By most standards it was early to be working, but his sleep had been fitful, memories of Beth causing his body to ache with need. His dreams of her were so vivid; her thighs cradling him, her soft whimpers tickling his ear as she held him close, begging him to give her release. More than once he’d woken hard as a rock, his hand drifting low on his body, but he wouldn’t sully their bond with a mere carnal release. What they’d had was so much more. And so he’d risen early and pulled on his clothes, determined to purge the ache through physical labour.
It had worked—as long as he kept from thinking too much. Stay in the present, that’s what he told himself. Notice what’s right in front of you; the roughness of the wood, the smell of sawdust, the pull of his muscles as he lifted the boards, and the satisfying clatter they made upon hitting the ground. This was real, nothing else.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled and pushed his hair from his eyes. The cool air felt refreshing as it filled his lungs and caressed his skin; a thin sheen of sweat already covered him despite the early hour. He hadn’t returned Rafe’s truck yesterday, and needed to get it back before the man went ballistic. Not that he really cared; it would just keep things simpler.
His last communiqué with his contact had said to expect something within the next twenty-four hours. Damien had snarled, questioning the delay, but had been told to shut up and await orders. God, he hated that. Wait for orders, follow orders, do this, don’t do that; it was like being back at the fucking Academy, and everyone knew how well he’d handled that. If it hadn’t been for his friends—the other two thirds of the Black Devils—he’d have been out on his ear and where would that have left him?
He sniffed and rubbed his nose. Hell, if he hadn’t graduated from the Academy, he wouldn’t have become an Enforcer. In fact he’d likely be…a rogue. A sardonic laugh escaped him. All those years of putting up with tight-assed instructors and he still ended up in the same damned place. Only difference was he likely wouldn’t have met Beth. His lips curved as a vision of her appeared before him. Dove grey eyes, a shy smile, her hand rubbing the gentle swell of her body where their child grew.
The thought sobered him; if he hadn’t met her, she’d probably still be alive. Once again, guilt sliced at his heart, leaving him raw and bleeding.
At one time, being an Enforcer for Lycan Link had seemed like his salvation; instead it had led to the death of the only person who had ever really loved him and accepted him for what he was. Beth had looked past his flaws; claimed she could see the good in him, that she was proud of what he was doing with his life. What would she think of him now?
He pulled out his wallet and flipped to her picture. His beautiful Beth… Lightly, he traced his fingertip over her hair, the corners of his lips curling as he imagined her with him. She’d like it here; the mist rolling over the meadows would delight her. It was easy to imagine how she’d awake in the morning, throwing off the covers and then peering out the window. The weak morning light would show through her nightgown, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her soft curves and he’d call to her, urging her to come back to bed. Instead, a giggle would escape her and she’d twirl around, calling a challenge to him before dashing outside. He’d sigh, then chuckle before leaping out of bed to follow her. Once outside, he’d catch a glimpse of her running barefoot through the damp grass, before the mist hid her from sight.
‘Damien, try to find me!’ Her voice would call out, encouraging him to join in an impromptu game of hide and seek.
He’d give a mock growl of annoyance and then start to track her down. Her trail would be easy to follow, but he’d let her think he was confused and prolong the game just for the fun of it. Eventually he’d sneak up on her and grab her around the waist, her cry of surprise turning into giggles. Swinging her around in his arms, he’d nuzzle her neck and growl in pretend anger before finally setting her down and brushing the damp hair from her cheeks.
‘I
love you, Damien.’ She’d run her hands over his chest and he’d close his eyes, rumbling contentedly as she explored him. Finally, she’d cup his face. He’d open his eyes and look down at her. Their gazes would lock and then they’d kiss…
Damien looked at Beth’s picture, recalling the feel of her lips on his, imagining how they’d end the encounter in bed, laughing and rolling in a tangle of covers. He glanced at her eyes, expecting to see them dancing with merriment at the adventure they’d shared. Instead… He frowned and swallowed, a feeling of unease coming over him. Were her eyes accusing? Was the curve of her mouth less than before? A trick of the light no doubt, but the smile faded from his lips and he slowly tucked the picture back in his wallet.
Throat tight, he tried to convince himself that she understood, that he was doing it for her, to right the wrong done. Evil had to be eradicated and sometimes that meant innocent lives were caught in the fight.
His wolf gave him an accusing stare, but he ignored it. After all, what did the beast know of the real world?
Grumbling, he returned to his labours, tossing bundles of lumber from the truck with more vigour than necessary, determined to squelch the whispers of conscience that ate away at his resolve. He worked with the speed of one possessed, welcoming the burn in his muscles and the sting of his palms when splinters of wood pierced his flesh.
When he was finally done, his chest was heaving, tiny drops of sweat tickling as they slid down his skin. He felt better though, at least calm enough to face Rafe without going for the man’s jugular. Not that Rafe had actually done anything to him, but the man was too controlled, too by the book. Like a poster child for the Academy; Dr. Rafe McRae… Damien rubbed his neck; the name still sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t important enough to be wasting his time on.
Heading into the cabin, he quickly showered then pulled on clean clothes and grabbed the keys to the truck. He still felt edgy, ill at ease. After he dropped off the vehicle, perhaps he’d go for run. It wasn’t like he really cared about finishing the porch; he wasn’t going to be here much longer anyway. Once this job was done, he’d never want to see Grassy Hills again.
As if the thought had been a summons, his cell phone rang. Damien’s muscles tensed and he hesitated, letting out a long slow breath before answering. This could be it. After what felt like ages of plotting and waiting, it could all be coming to an end. An odd mixture of excitement and trepidation filled him, yet his voice was cool and steady when he spoke. ‘Hello?”
“It’s a go.”
“Understood.”
As quickly as that the wheels were set in motion. Damien pocketed the phone, turned on his heels and exited the cabin. He’d hike over to Rafe’s; it was the most logical place to find Eve; Travelling as a wolf would be faster, but who knew if the stubborn creature would cooperate or not. Besides, at this point he couldn’t chance having his thoughts read by Eve… No, by the target. That’s how he had to think of Eve now. She wasn’t a woman, a living breathing creature; she was simply a target. Any other mindset would interfere with his functionality. As of now he was a cold killing machine.
Memories of other assignments tumbled through his mind. Of hiding in the shadows, watching for the next victim to come within range. The adrenaline rush as he’d wait, muscles tensed, ready to spring into action. A roaring sound would fill his ears when he finally moved with all the speed and agility of a deadly and practised killer. Screams of terrors, the smell of fear and hatred. Blood, red and hot and sticky; its metallic tang tingling on his tongue, spilling onto the ground. And then the silence with only the sound of his own harsh breathing filling his ears. He’d give himself a shake, his heart beat slowing, his muscles relaxing. The rage slipping away to the dark recesses where it hid, biding its time until the next call to action…
Chapter 29
“Dammit!” Rafe hit the desk top, giving vent to his feelings in a way he seldom allowed himself. Why would Lycan Link want him to report in now? He’d made his complaint against Rogue Retrieval months ago; how could it take them this long to decide they wanted an interview? He scowled at the message on his computer screen and then spun his chair around so he could stare out his window.
The rock where Eve had sat sketching yesterday was in plain view. Beyond that was the edge of the woods where he’d found the scentless tracks. And now, less than twenty-four hours after reporting them to Reno, Lycan Link wanted him to return to his clinic, gather his files and then fly to their head office for an interview. Given the time between connecting flights, the round trip would take up to three days. Three days during which Eve would be left alone with Damien. His gut clenched at the very idea.
Rafe narrowed his eyes. He didn’t often believe in coincidences, and this was too neat and tidy. Why would Lycan Link need him out of the way? Some undercover mission they didn’t want him to know about? Reno said there were no operatives in the area, but the scentless tracks would seem to indicate otherwise. It could be Damien, but something didn’t feel right about that scenario. Had Reno lied to him? The idea didn’t sit well, but it wasn’t surprising either. As a long time Enforcer, Reno was deeply entrenched in Lycan Link. If an important mission was about to be underway, there was a high probability Reno would be aware of it.
Yet, if something was going down and it involved Lycan Link, why hadn’t Reno tried to remove Damien from the area sooner? Reno knew Damien was on the ‘most wanted’ list; if Lycan Link found Damien here… No, it couldn’t be. And yet...
He drummed his fingers on his desk while replaying his conversations with Reno in his head. He considered how the other man had almost pleaded for him to keep Damien in the area. It had seemed strange at the time, but now it made a sort of sick sense. Reno was purposely setting Damien up to take a fall.
Rafe pushed to his feet and began to pace his room. Where did his loyalty lie now? With Lycan Link? With Reno, a man he’d thought of as a friend? Or with Damien? While he and Damien locked horns, hadn’t he pledged his life to helping rogues? Personal differences couldn’t be allowed to factor into this. Should he warn Damien? Try to talk him into reporting to the clinic before it was too late? If Adrian Somerset and his henchmen tried to take Damien, it would be a blood bath. As a doctor, wasn’t he supposed to be protecting life?
There was a knock on the door and he turned to see Eve hesitantly peeking in. They hadn’t spoken since their encounter during the night.
“I made myself pancakes for breakfast, but there’s lots left over if you’d like to join me.” Her voice sounded confident enough, but Rafe saw how her fingers were tightly clenching the door knob. Last time she’d asked him to eat with her, he’d turned her down. He was surprised that she’d chanced it again. Perhaps the friendlier terms they’d come to last night were giving her a dose of courage.
“I’d like that.” He agreed, pleased to be able to momentarily postpone his present mental wrangling for something more pleasant.
“Great!” The look of pleasure on her face erased any doubts he might have been having. Given the apparent upcoming events, they likely wouldn’t have much time together after today. An hour spent in her company couldn’t hurt as long as they kept themselves under control.
Following Eve to the kitchen, he began getting out plates and syrup while she finished cooking. There was something homey and friendly about working together to prepare a meal. He caught himself humming some nameless tune under his breath and flicked a glance at Eve wondering if she’d heard him. Perhaps not. She was smiling to herself, but seemed intent on what she was doing. Giving his head a self-deprecating shake, he continued his self-appointed task, the tune still running through his head. After arranging the dishes on the old pine table that dominated the centre of the room, he found glasses for juice and added some napkins as well.
The sizzle of butter on a skillet and the scent of warm pancakes filled the room. His stomach rumbled loudly.
Eve laughed. “I take it you didn’t eat yet?”
“I
’m not much of a breakfast person. A few cups of coffee and I’m ready to face the day.” Rafe leaned his hip against the counter and watched her scrape the last of the batter from the bowl to form the final pancake.
“I’ve noticed. The kitchen is always deserted when I get up.” She kept her eyes on the skillet, but he could sense an undertone to her words. Had she noticed how he ensured he left the house before she got up, even if it meant abandoning his morning coffee fix?
He sighed and decided a bit of honesty wouldn’t hurt. “I planned it that way. It was just…easier. An empath’s mental defences aren’t always at their best first thing in the morning.”
“I didn’t realize.” She flicked her eyes his direction. “Thanks for watching out for me.”
“No problem.”
He reached out and dipped his finger into the mixing bowl, gathering a bit of the remaining batter that she’d missed. She playfully moved to tap his wrist in a reprimand and he captured her hand with his free one.
“There’s likely a lot about being an empath that you don’t know.” He found himself staring into her eyes. They were wide and questioning, searching his own.
“Are you volunteering to teach me?” Her voiced sounded huskier, and he sensed the double meaning behind her words. The fragile feel of her wrist in his hand was bringing all his dominant male tendencies to the front. He could feel her pulse pounding beneath his fingers; see her awareness of him as a man evident in her eyes. She could tempt a saint with her sweet, innocent looks.
“Maybe.” He pressed his finger to her plump pink lips. “Lick.”
She responded to his command, parting her lips and letting his finger slide between them. He could feel her tongue softly swirling over the tip, cleaning away the batter and then rhythmically sucking. It brought to mind images of her mouth on other parts of him, and he realized he was treading down a dangerous path.