Gabriel pulled up to the dark house and cut the engine. Taking off his helmet, he knew Rose wasn’t in the house. She’d be in the yard on such a hot night. He pulled his leather coat off, tossed it over the seat, hooked the helmet on the bike, and followed the lines of the house to the back yard.
She sat in a swing with a fire flickering at her feet. Gabriel eased down on his heels next to her and reached for her hand, grateful for the quick soothing of his demon. It had become surprisingly natural, the two of them tethered together that way. He studied the fire, not knowing how to ask the question that burned inside. If his soul was truly dying, like Satine said, did he really want to know?
Rose broke the silence. "It's lovely out here, the scent of citrus blossoms."
Memories flooded him at her words. "It’s one of my favorite places in the entire world.” He looked up, gave her a smile. "But you shouldn't be out here. Let's get you inside, okay?"
Rose’s eyes sharpened. She sniffed the air around him and wrinkled her nose. She poked at him, her eyes wary. "You stink of vampire. You let her touch you. What happened?"
"She captured Justin to get me to cooperate because she’s running scared of Vlad. Does it bug you that he's got that stupid name?" Restless, he stood. "It really bugs me. Why aren't vampires ever named Al, or Bob, or Tom?"
"Gabriel," she reproved. "Justin’s okay? You rescued him, right?”
“Yes. Kellan took him to Doc Cavanaugh. He’s fine, it’s just, hell.” Gabriel rubbed his neck and wished desperately for a beer.
“What aren't you saying? What is it? You’re scaring me now."
"Satine said my soul was almost all dead. That you knew it." He crouched next to her again, met her curious gaze head on. “Do you know? Can you feel my soul dying? You’ve got to tell me if you know.”
"It's not withering, nor is it dead. It's a bit anxious about being in two places, but from what I can tell, it’s holding on. But you know that," she reproved and lifted their twined hands. “By touching me, you know all that, don’t you? Can’t you feel it?”
Understanding flooded him, made him weak with relief. "Satine made me doubt myself.” He kissed the hand he held and let it go.
“You’re the one who told me she’s good at illusion.” Rose leaned back in the swing. “God, I love this place. Being here, napping, walking in the orchard, talking with Maggie, it’s like I’m remembering who I was before Satine stole my soul. I was an amazing person, Gabriel. I loved art. I used to work in acrylics and watercolors, but I’d forgotten all about that. Can you believe it? I forgot all about it. I wonder whatever happened to my canvases.”
His heart much lighter than it had been, he watched her, glowing in the night. She’d grown in the past few days. No longer the scared and shivering woman who had been calling to him through fog and mist. This woman held herself with strength and serenity. “You’re an artist. I don’t know why, but that makes sense.”
She straightened up and smiled at him. “I’m recovering bits of myself here, pieces I’d forgotten about. It’s rather amazing.”
He held her gaze. “What about Mephisto?”
“He told me that only a person with a strong mind and a pure heart could force him out before he's ready to go. Ultimately I might have to bargain with him."
“You don’t have a soul. That puts you in jeopardy. He could easily claim your body.” Gabriel frowned. "I don't like it that he talked to you."
“I don’t think he’d like this body,” she said on a laugh. “His own is pretty spectacular. Why move into a female when the male is so much stronger?”
“You are spectacular.”
Her eyes glowed at his husky words. “Gabriel.”
Every muscle in his body locked as she stood and moved to him, put a hand on his chest. Desire pumped through him. She rose on her toes, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as he caught her by the waist and lowered his head to hers. At the first touch of her mouth on his, he moaned. Need flowed between them and the passion they’d ignited early that morning on Maggie’s balcony flamed again. Gabriel lost himself in her, in her taste, in the feel of her slender body pressed against him.
A hot wind blew through the trees and just as quickly died. The crickets and frogs fell silent and the night stilled around them. Gabriel broke their kiss and listened. Nothing moved. The hairs lifted on Gabriel’s neck and fear swamped his desire.
"Inside. Now." Gabriel grabbed her around the waist and half-carried her toward the house despite her squeak of outrage. He took her all the way into the kitchen’s back entry before he set her down on her feet again.
She stared at him. “What the hell was that about?”
He crossed his arms and thought frantically. How to explain the silence, the fear for her safety that now consumed him, without sounding like a lovesick idiot?
At his continued silence, Rose sniffed. “Talk about cavemen,” she muttered, and stalked through the darkened kitchen, down the hall and to the main stairway.
Following her, Gabriel's lips twitched, his dread lessening. "Caveman? I think I missed part of the conversation."
Rose stopped three steps up the stairs and whirled around. She jabbed her finger at him. "You are the most frustrating and willfully ignorant man. Hard-headed and arrogant." At his blank look, she blew out a breath and flew up the stairs.
Gabriel watched her go. How in the world would he be able to walk away from her? At a cough behind him, he turned to see Maggie standing in the doorway to the hearth room.
"What did you do to make her angry?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb.
"It felt like we were being watched. Out there." He shook his head. "Spooked me, I guess."
"You don't look like the type to get spooked easily."
"I didn't used to be. I just want to keep her safe, you know?" He looked up the stairs. "I should go."
"You’ll walk away from all the sparks flying between you? That makes you an idiot." Maggie shook her head. "You Caine men. You're all more trouble than you're worth, as far as I'm concerned," she added tartly. "Go on.
Go
to her, or you’ll regret it later.”
Gabriel went. Eagerness had him taking the stairs three at a time, following her scent. At the end of the west wing, dim light shone from the master bedroom. He strode toward where he could feel her waiting.
"I can’t stop being who I am." He pushed the door open as he spoke and fell silent at the seduction within. Fat candles had been set on the floor by the wall and the king-sized bed had been made with new linens, a welcome lake of pale blue. But the bed didn't hold his attention.
Rose stood in front of the window. She glowed in the waning moonlight, golden in a shower of silver light. Beautiful. Mesmerizing. She turned to him, purpose in every line of her body.
"Listen to me, Gabriel Caine. I want you. I want you like I haven't wanted anything, ever. You are the drug that itched beneath my skin, the high I longed for but never knew existed." Her voice, low, reached him, wrapped him up in need.
"No." Fear slammed through him. He didn't know tender. He couldn't give her tender, and that’s what she deserved. Gabriel opened his mouth to tell her so and then she was there, taking his hand, her eyes so serious. She pulled him toward the bed, lifting up his tee shirt with one hand.
He took a deep breath and stepped back, grabbed both her hands in one of his. "Rose. No."
She stilled, looked up at him, her face open and guileless. "You told me you cared for me. Was that a lie?"
"No. Not a lie." Out of options, Gabriel backed up and sat on the bed. Rose stepped between his knees.
"Then talk to me."
Gabriel sighed, brought her hands up to his mouth. Kissed each palm.
"I have killed those I loved. I'm not about to kill you, too. It's my biggest fear."
Rose frowned, but before she could argue with him, he released her hands. Slid his up to her face, cradled it gently. "I do want you. I do. But there is no future for us, Rose. There can't be. I can't risk you and live with myself.”
"We're adults not children, and we're not unrealistic. Becoming lovers won't change anything. Stay. Be my lover. Be the first real love in my life.”
“How am I supposed to deny you?”
“Tell me you don’t want me.” Her breath in his ear sent a shiver through him.
"This is a mistake," he said, hovering, drawing out the moment.
"Not if we both want it. We do both want it, Gabriel." Her hot hand went to his ruined cheek, held him.
He turned and pressed a kiss into her palm. "This is for now. Not for always. Right?"
Her smile reached her eyes and she leaned into him. "Just for tonight," she murmured, and pushed him flat onto the bed. "We'll argue about tomorrow later." She pressed tiny kisses along his ravaged cheek, skipped his lips and kissed his other cheek before moving on down to his throat.
He leaned his head back to give her mouth better access. His heart caught, tangled with emotion as she scrambled on top of him.
Gabriel sighed, drew her closer and nestled his face in the scented curve of her neck. His senses stretched out, rejoiced at the feel of her against him even as he grew hard against her.
"You've been a hunger in my soul that I never knew existed," he said, his voice low.
She caught her breath. Framed his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. "Kiss me."
It wasn't their first kiss, and yet it resonated like one, she thought dimly. Slow, and sweet, causing shivers to chase across her skin. Lips and tongues and the meeting, parting and meeting again lengthened time to what felt like hours. He tasted like dark sin, deliciously spicy-sweet, and the thrust and dueling of their tongues took on a sensuality she craved.
They parted, taking a quick breath. The candles scented the air with vanilla. The night breeze, heavy with citrus blossom, drifted in through the open window. At his look of wonder, her heart took the last step into love.
On a sigh she dug her hands into his hair; the silky strands a spicy delight to her senses. She gasped for air when his lips left hers. He nipped at the juncture of throat and shoulder, and all her senses leaped in surprise.
"Gabriel," she moaned. She held his head to her, her senses swimming.
His hands skimmed her sides, lifted her shirt up and off. Rose, eager to follow his lead, tugged at his tee shirt until he stripped it away and his chest was at her fingertips.
He was all hard muscle and cool skin. She burned hot as flame against him as she trailed kisses across his chest, ran her hands down his arms. Rose looked deeply into smoky gray eyes, and smiled as she felt his hands go to the snap of her jeans. She did him the same favor, and after wrestling with denim, they were both naked on the huge bed.
Her body amazed him. Slender, limber, her small breasts with their tight pink nipples entranced him. The line of her body drew his eyes down to the copper curls between her long legs, and his mouth watered even as his hands stroked, teased, discovered.
She was fluid, hot in his arms, her summer-blue eyes mesmerizing as she flowed over him, touching, soothing, inciting everywhere they connected. Her eyes were alight with mischief. Her hand on his aching cock, her silky hair sweeping his belly and the feel of her hot, wet tongue there snapped his tight control.
With a roar, he lifted her over him, brought her mouth to his, and rolled with her, trapping her beneath his body as he ravaged her mouth.
Had it ever been like this? Wild, soothing, a crescendo built inside him. More, he had to have more. He caught one taut nipple between his lips and tugged, suckled.