Bound (Secrets of the Djinn) (8 page)

Leaning over, Zane puts his hand on my cheek and he kisses me, a long, sultry kiss that has me wondering where the scissors are.  My hopes are dashed though.  “I won’t make love to you when I know it’ll hurt you,” he says against my lips.

“It’ll be a good pain,” I try.

His response is to kiss me again and then pull back, dropping his head onto his pillow.  “As much as I would like to
believe you, I know you’re lying.”  Seeing the disappointment on my face, he says, “Come here.”

He holds his arm out and he guides me close so I can lay my head on his chest.  He’s careful not to touch my bad arm.  Kissing the top of my head, he says, “Good night, Skye.”

“Good night.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when the feel of cold, hard metal against my forehead wakes me with a start.  A harsh voice whispers in my ear.  “You are going to get out of bed without waking my grandson.  If he wakes up, I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.”

D
eep down I never truly thought Mrs. Gregori would shoot me.  Apparently, I’m a fool.  Slowly, I slide out of Zane’s grasp.  He’s sound asleep and I’m able to slip under his arm without him waking.  Once I’m out of the bed, I move quietly to the door.  Mrs. Gregori is right behind me, the tip of her gun touching the small of my back.  The light from the hall makes me squint, but I can make out Roman’s form waiting for us near the stairs.  I’m not the only one facing death by bullet.

Once we are abreast of Roman, Mrs. Gregori motions with her gun that we should move to the stairs. 
Is she afraid the elevator will make too much noise?  My ankle and the rest of my injuries don’t dare complain.  The adrenaline in my system is too high to feel pain. 

Mrs. Gregori doesn’t speak again
until we’re in the foyer.  “There’s two thousand dollars in the bag by the door along with the keys to Brielle’s jeep.”  Is Brielle in on this?  Was she lying about not doing anything to hurt Zane?

My mind is put to rest when Mrs. Gregori says, “She won’t miss the jeep.  There’s a spare in the garage.”

So, Brielle isn’t in on this.  “Where are we supposed to go?”

The old woman shrugs.  “Once you reach the end of the driveway, you are no longer our responsibility.  I suggest you keep a low profile.”

I’m stunned into silence for a moment.  Finally, the pragmatic side of my brain kicks in.  “I need clothes.  I can’t flee in a sports bra and shorts.”

“There’
s a change of clothes in the bag.”  She’s thought of everything.

Shrugging out of his jacket, Roman hands it to me.  “Here, put this on for now.”  He helps me put my good arm in one of the sleeves and then drapes the other side over my injured shoulder.  I murmur thanks, still in shock about
what’s happening.

In an effort to hurry things along, Mrs. Gre
gori opens the door for us.  “I’m doing this for my grandson.  He needs a clean break, time to clear his head.  Then he’ll figure out how wrapped up his feelings are in yours.  I’m not letting him get himself killed because some djinni got her clutches in him.”  She doesn’t understand that Zane can feel my emotions wherever I am.

I w
ould argue, try to convince her what she’s saying isn’t true, that he can distinguish his feelings from mine.  I can’t, though.  I don’t understand the binding any more than she does.

“Dammit, I almost forgot.”  Mrs. Gregori pulls a pad and pen out of her
sweater pocket.  “I don’t want the fool to go after you so you’re going to write him a letter telling him you ran off with Roman.”

Is she kidding
me?  The muzzle of her gun points in my direction again.  She’s not kidding.  I hold a shaking hand out and take the paper and pen, but I hesitate, not sure what to write.

Mrs. Gregori loses her patience with my hesitance.  “Just tell him what I told you.”

Tears in my eyes, I begin to write:

Dear Zane,

I am so sorry to hurt you like this but it’s for the best.  Roman and I can’t keep putting you and your family in danger and I can’t fight my destiny any longer.  I am positive I’m doing the right thing.

Love,

Skye

I hand the pad of paper back to the old woman.  She reads it over, scowling at my
closing sentiment.  Fortunately, she has no idea the significance of me underlining positive three times.  I just hope Zane does.  I want him to know I really do love him.

“We should be going,” Roman says quietly.  All I can do is nod and let him lead me outside.  The jeep is parked out front.  I hobble to the passenger side and get in, the pain in my ankle and arm
returning as the shock wears away and I’m left with the reality of never seeing Zane again.  The storm of tears I’ve been holding back fall in rivers down my cheeks.

Roman doesn’t say anything when he gets in.  He puts the car in drive and we make our way to the end of the
long driveway.  I don’t pay attention to whether Roman turns left or right.  It doesn’t really matter.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

“Malik, why do you hide behind these walls?”

“Have you come to
liberate me?” Malik asks his aunt, not looking up from the book he is reading. 

“Yes.”

With a dark laugh, Malik says, “Your generosity will come with a cost, no doubt.”  He has been a willing prisoner in his home since killing his uncle.  A crime for which he is unable to conjure remorse.

“We need her, Malik.  Please.  She calls to you in the veil.  She thinks you deserted her.”

“It is better for my sister to believe that than bring her here as a weapon of destruction.  What would become of her mind and her soul if she is forced to live over and over through the atrocities of her enemies?  She will feel every crime they committed, witness it in her flames.  She will never know peace if she returns.”

“Th
is is her destiny, her place in history in this vast universe of ours.”

Malik shakes his head.  “Destinies are chosen, they are not preordained.”

“We are each given tools with which to forge our destinies.  Skye’s will bring peace to her people,” his aunt argues.

“If we are not strong enough to fight the Saitan
and keep them on this side of the veil on our own, then we do not deserve to win.”

Voice harsh now, his aunt says, “You are a pig-headed fool.  If you will not call her here then I will.”

Malik is out of his chair before his aunt can take even one step backwards.  Wrapping his hand around her skinny neck, he growls, “Do you wish to die as your husband did?”

Tugging at his hand, his aunt breathes, “No.”  Malik releases his hold and his aunt drops to her knees gasping for oxygen.

“Leave.  Now.”  His aunt struggles to her feet and retreats quickly.  Malik returns to his chair, once again opening his book. 

“Will you at least meet with the tribal council?” his aunt wheezes
from the door. 


No.” 

Knowing she is no match for his strength and power, his aunt does as he bids. 
She leaves without another word spoken.  When she is gone, Malik slams his book closed and throws it across the room.  Of course he has heard Skye’s cries in the veil, and for each time she has called to him there is a slash in the middle of his heart.

Placing his head in his hands, he whispers, “Dammit, Skye, why did this fate have to fall upon you?  I cannot protect you from it forever.  Please, dear one, hide yourself well.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
9

 

We’ve been on the road a long time when Roman pulls into a roadside motel.  My tears finally stopped and my mind is numb.  Light is seeping over the horizon so it must be near dawn.  I remain in the car while Roman gets a room.  When he returns, he helps me from the Jeep and wraps an arm around my waist to help me walk.

The room is small and cramped.  The furnishings have seen much better days and the carpet is threadbare.  The only redeeming thing about the room is that the sheets appear to be clean. 
I walk to the bed, pull back the covers and lie down.  Roman covers me with the sheet and comforter. 

He retreats to the bathroom briefly and returns with a glass of water and three pills.  “You need these,” he says.

Struggling to sit up, I take the glass and put the pills in my mouth without bothering to ask what they are.  They don’t look like Tylenol or ibuprofen but I don’t care.  They could be laced with arsenic and I’d still take them if there’s any chance they can make my pain and anguish go away. 

Roman disappears again, and I can hear
water running.  He must be taking a shower.  I vaguely wonder how clean the bathroom is and my bladder decides it wants to find out.

When I hear the water stop, I slowly get out of bed.  The pills Roman gave me are starting to take effect and the way the world spins when I stand up is the first clue that
he did not give me an over-the-counter pain medication.  When the dizziness clears enough for me to remain upright, I walk slowly to the bathroom door and knock softly.

Roman opens the door wearing only a towel cinched around his waist. 
He looks so good that even partially paralyzed, my mind registers his hard lines, his flat, tight abs, and the muscles of his arms and chest that are always obvious under his shirts.  Seeing him like this, with his tan skin and perfectly sculpted body, I’m surprised at my lack of physical response.  For once, the pull of his mark doesn’t affect me.  These are some damn good drugs.  “I need to use the bathroom,” I say, averting my eyes from his mostly naked body.

“Do you need help?” he asks.

I look back at him, expecting to find lust in his eyes.  Instead, I find the eyes of a doctor willing to help his patient any way he can.  Gazing down at my exercise shorts, I imagine trying to tug them down with my one good arm.  Since the alternative is having Roman pull them down, I decide I am perfectly capable of performing the task myself.  I shake my head.  “No.”

He nods and leaves the
room to me.  It takes a considerable amount of time, but I manage to use the bathroom on my own.  After washing my hands, I walk back to the bed.  Roman has pulled on some boxers which are somehow more revealing than the towel was.  I resist ogling him and crawl back into bed, lying on my side and facing the wall.  The bed sags as Roman adds his weight to it.  I stiffen, waiting for him to touch me, but all he does is lie down and turn off the bedside lamp.  He has taken care so no part of his body is touching mine.

We lie in silence for quite some time before he says, “I remember the details
of why the woman claims to be my wife.”  I don’t say anything so he continues.  “It is custom among the djinn for parents to arrange marriages when their children are young to ensure a good match, politically and socially.  A ceremony is performed when both children have passed their eighth year.  Once the ceremony is complete, the children return home with their parents.  As the children grow, they are expected to spend time together, get to know each other.  When old enough, they must consummate the marriage to make it binding.”

I know what he’s going to say next.  “You never consummated your marriage.”

“Correct.”  Again, he continues when I don’t say anything else.  “I hated her from the time I met her.  I found her to be a selfish, whiny brat and I hated my parents for the match.  I fully intended to wait until the marriage could be annulled and then do so.  I wanted you to be my wife, Skye.”

In the back of my mind, a memory seeps in of Roman pledging his eternal love to me.  I push the memory away
, not wanting to remember the love I had for him at the time.  Those thoughts only lead to remembering his betrayal.

“What are we going to do?” I muse aloud.  “Neither of us can go home.”

“We could go back.”

H
e isn’t talking about the house we just left.  He means going back behind the veil.  “Malik doesn’t want me to go back.”  At least, he didn’t before.  I don’t know what he thinks now; he has been silent for weeks.

“If he’s worried about the mark, I can guarantee him…”

I cut him off.  “Roman, I don’t want to have this conversation with you.  I want to sleep for a bit and then make a plan to keep us from getting killed or sent to prison.  No matter what, the plan will not involve me going back behind the veil.”

Roman is silent for so long, I’m almost asleep when he says, “I’m sorry about Zane.”

No, he’s not.  “Go to sleep,” I tell him, relieved when he doesn’t say any more. 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

My heart is going to explode with love.  I never dreamed I could feel like this.  Malik doesn’t understand, he says he doesn’t trust Roman, but that’s only because Roman is a Saitan.  If I could convince Malik to get to know him, maybe they could find some common ground.  Maybe they could even like each other.

I knock nervously on Roman’s door, checking over my shoulder for the hundredth time to make sure I
wasn’t followed.  Malik forbade me to come here again, but I don’t care.  I love Roman and he loves me.  That’s all that matters.

Roman opens the door with a sexy grin.  “It’s about time,” he teases, pulling me inside and into his arms.  He closes the door with his foot and his lips are on mine.  I’m not shy with him any longer.  I kiss him back, my tongue caressing his and my hands slide under his shirt to feel the smooth skin of his back.  He groans into my mouth when I lightly rake my nails down his tight muscles.

“Skye,” he murmurs, “you are driving me crazy.”

“Then do something about it,” I say impatiently.  He keeps holding us back when all I want to do is fall into his arms and into his bed.

“Skye, we can’t…” his words are cut off when my fingers dip into the waistband of his pants.  He leans his forehead against mine, his hands grasping my waist as his breathing becomes ragged.

Slowly bringing my hands to the front, I find the button for his pants and undo it. 
I’ve never been this forward before but it’s time to take matters into my own hands.  I’m tired of all the reasons we shouldn’t do this.  I want to focus on the reasons we should.  Roman’s breath catches but he doesn’t stop me.  Encouraged, I move his zipper down until I can touch the bulge he has pressed against me too many times to count.  Finally, I am going to truly feel what he has kept hidden, what he has kept from me for too long because of his fear of my brother and his father.

Roman’s fingers tighten around my waist as I free him.  His eyes are tightly closed and he bites his lip when I take him in my hand.  The skin of his cock is silky smooth and hot.  I am intimidated at first by its size, but when Roman’s entire body quivers as I slide my hand gently up and down the hard length, I forget about that.  All I care about is the obvious pleasure he feels.

“Roman, please.  Make love to me.”

“Skye, I can’t…” his breath catches again when I increase the pressure of my fingers around him
and he becomes even harder.  Pushing gently away from him, I lower myself to my knees.  “What are you doing?” he rasps.

I grin up at him.  “Playing.”  I read about women pleasuring men with their mouths.  Slowly, I glide my tongue up the front of his shaft.  Roman’s hands reach for the wall behind me and he places his palms against it for balance.  His entire body is quivering now.  After teasing him a few more times with my tongue, I move my mouth to the tip of his cock and wrap my lips around it.  A hiss of pleasure escapes him and Roman drops his head back, his eyes tightly closed.  Inexperienced as I am, I’m gratified to know I can affect him like this.  Moving my mouth up and down, I tease him with my tongue. 

My entire body is aflame.  I take more of him into my mouth and revel in the heat flowing down to my core.  My tongue and lips milk his cock which is now rock hard.  I may be inexperienced, but I can tell he’s ready to come.  A tiny bit of panic flows through me, not sure what I’m supposed to do when he does.

Roman surprises me when he yanks me to my feet.  “Not like this,” he says against my lips, bruising them with a kiss.  “I will not make love to you out here.  You deserve a soft bed and my lips caressing your body, my hands stroking you until you are ready for me, to take me inside you.”  Stepping back, he adjusts himself back into his pants the best he can and then takes my hand, leading me farther into his house.

I want to cry when he opens the door to his bedroom.  I have wanted this for so long.  Closing the door after us, Roman lays his hands on my cheeks and searches my face.  “Is this truly what you want?”  His blue eyes are blazing with desire.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Roman leads me to the bed and draws me down with him.  His hard body presses against me as he takes my lips again.  This time, it’s not just my hands that are exploring.  Roman’s hands find the places he’s touched me before, but this time, they carry the promise that he won’t stop. 

Pulling my shirt over my head, Roman stares at my naked breasts.  “You are perfect,” he whispers before bending down to capture a nipple with his lips.  He teases me with his tongue as I did to him.  While his mouth nuzzles and caresses my breasts, his hands make short order of removing my skirt and panties.  It’s not long before I lay naked before him.

His eyes rake over my body, the fire in them making me burn with anticipation.  Moving his gaze up my naked flesh, his eyes finally lock with mine.  “I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly.

I giggle nervously.  “I can say the same about you.”  Tugging at his shoulders, I pull him to me.  “Roman, please don’t stop.”
  Closing his eyes tightly, his body stills.  He starts to draw away but I increase my hold on him.  “Roman.”

When he opens his eyes again, I’m relieved to see none of the passion in them has ebbed. 
When he speaks, his voice is desperate.  “Skye, if we do this, you will be marked.  If you make love to me, you will forever hold the mark of the Saitan.  I can’t do that to you.  I won’t.”

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