They said a quick round of goodbyes, agreeing to meet again in the morning. Then Riley and the Watchmen headed back to the rental car they'd left parked on the far side of the house, and Ian lifted Molly into his arms, carrying her inside.
MOLLY TRIED TO TELL him she could walk on her own, but he pressed his mouth to her temple, saying, "I need to hold you, so stop complaining."
Too tired to argue, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and accepted his soft confession, allowing him to carry her through the shadowed rooms of the house. They took a long, lingering shower together, washing away the grime of the horrifying night, touching each other with trembling hands, and then he carried her into the bedroom, laying her out over the soft, down-filled sleeping bag.
As Ian stretched his long, beautiful body out beside her, Molly sensed that there was something he wanted to say, and her heart fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird as she wondered what it would be...almost too afraid to hope for what she wanted. Which was to hear him say that he loved her again. That he'd always love her.
That he'd spend his life with her. Forever.
He moved over her, caging her body beneath the heat and strength of his larger frame, and stared down at her, his smoldering eyes burning with an inner fire, as if a bit of the Merrick still lingered within him. "Before I get distracted by this luscious little body of yours," he rumbled in a deep, gritty voice, "I'm wondering if you can explain what the hell you thought you were doing tonight. Do you know what stay put means?"
Molly frowned, thinking that was hardly the romantic declaration she'd been hoping for. "I'm not a dog, Ian. I don't take orders."
He snorted. "Trust me, I noticed."
"Listen here," she muttered, bristling at his tone. "Just because you turned into some hunky Merrick and saved the day, doesn't mean you get to go acting all cocky now, like a bloody caveman."
"Hunky?" he croaked, looking as if he was trying to fight back a smile, the corner of his mouth twitching with an endearingly adorable, boyish grin.
Molly narrowed her eyes, wondering what she was going to do with him. Luckily, she had some really good ideas. "Mmm," she murmured, running her hands over the hard, bulging strength of his biceps, finding him perfect...no matter which form he wore. "To be honest, I could really get used to all those muscles you were sporting."
"Typical," he drawled, his deep chest vibrating with a low, husky thread of laughter as he settled himself more deeply between her splayed thighs, his cock a hot, heavy weight against her most tender flesh. "I should have known you were only after my body."
She opened her mouth, on the verge of telling him that she was after more than that--that she wanted it all, everything he had to give--when something stopped her.
Her humor faded at the realization that she was still afraid. Not of making herself vulnerable, but of scaring him away...of making him run again, when she knew that this time it would destroy her.
As if he read the thought in her eyes, he pressed his long body more heavily against hers, the muscled slabs of his chest cushioned against her sensitive, swollen breasts. With his forearms braced either side of her shoulders, his ruggedly beautiful face hovered just above hers, eyes dark and deliciously intense as he stared down at her. Holding her gaze, Ian slowly pushed his cock into her body, forging his way in with such firm, unrelenting pressure that it stole her breath. "I'm sorry, Molly."
"For what?" she gasped, her heart pounding faster...and faster, speeding down the tracks toward an unknown future.
"You deserve so much more than what I can give you," he whispered in a deep, rough-edged voice, so close she could feel his heart beating against her own as he rolled his hips, grinding against her in a way that made her body arch, her knees lifting higher as she struggled to take more of him into her. "I know you deserve better, but I can't...I can't give you up."
"Oh, God," she breathed out, her voice trembling, and a hot wash of tears filled her eyes. She was almost afraid of the blossoming hope expanding inside of her, threatening to break her apart.
He made a harsh sound in the back of his throat, and pressed his mouth against her cheek, kissing away her tears, then moved lower, kissing the quivering column of her throat. His tongue rasped tenderly against the sensitive bite he'd made earlier that day, and her inner muscles tightened, rippling around him, making him buck.
He growled low in his throat, and then he was pulling out of her, his strong hands turning her...directing her into position. When he was done, she found herself on her hands and knees, her arms shaking as she braced herself on her bent elbows, so excited she could barely breathe.
"Is it too much like this?" he groaned, feeling even bigger at this angle as he quickly thrust back inside with a thick, desperate lunge.
Her head shook from side to side. "No...no..." she panted, and a low, devastatingly sexy burst of masculine laughter filled her ear as he curved his body over hers like a hard, beautiful shelter, pressing an openmouthed kiss to the back of her neck, his breath hot against her skin.
"You know," he rumbled in a gritty rasp, "we really have to do something about this penchant you have for lying, Molls." His hands found hers, closing around them, while he touched his mouth to the side of her throat, his sensual lips moving against her skin as he spoke. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll be careful with you."
"Don't you dare!"
His low chuckle bled into a deep, visceral growl as she pushed back against him, and she could feel his control slipping away, being torn from his grasp.
"Molly," he groaned against her ear, his breath jerking from his lungs in a deep, shuddering rhythm, and she had the strangest sensation that he was asking her for something. Begging.
Pleading for it with the driving urgency of his body into hers, the mattress slamming into the wall from the powerful, primal force of his thrusts. And then the answer suddenly bloomed from someplace deep inside of her, flowing out in a shimmering, incandescent wave of awareness.
Molly relaxed beneath him, softening, and with a deep breath, she opened herself and invited him into the secret places of her heart, of her soul, where no other man had ever been.
Intimate, emotional places that belonged to no one but Ian. She sought out his hard, powerful fist with her lips, and pressed a tender kiss to his battered knuckles, trying to tell him how she felt, struggling to get the words out over the choking lump of emotion in her throat. "Ian...I, oh, God, I love...I love you."
A harsh, guttural sound tore from his chest at her words, trembling and savage and raw, and his body came down heavily over hers, shaking with a staggering, violent release, his hips shoving against her in hard, hammering lunges that powered them across the mattress. Molly screamed, thrown into that dark, raging chaos of ecstasy with him, slammed into it, until the clenching, mind-shattering waves of bliss consumed her...pulling her down into a warm, languid state of oblivion. Rich, exquisite pleasure suffused her body, pulsing in her fingers and toes, and the next thing she realized, Ian was holding her in his arms, both of them lying on their sides, his panting breath warm against her scalp as he growled, "You're mine, Molly."
She absorbed the rough, shaky words, holding on to them, locking them away in her heart like a treasure. But as they drifted off to sleep, she realized that despite her passionate declaration, he hadn't made one of his own. Though he'd told her with his body, Ian had yet to repeat the words he'd given her before walking out to face the Casus.
And Molly couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever hear them again.
Laurente Cemetery, Tuesday Afternoon
AS THEY MADE THEIR WAY down the cobbled pathway, Ian clutched Molly's hand in his, pulling her closer to his side. It'd been an eventful few days, and this was their last stop before heading to the airport, where they'd take a flight back to Colorado.
After he'd held her close through the long hours of darkness on Saturday night, Molly had awakened Sunday morning to the thick, decadent pleasure of Ian's body pushing into hers.
They'd spent the next hour steeped in the hot, provocative burn of insatiable desire, each time they came together somehow hotter than the last...and then they'd showered, dressed and met the others in the kitchen, where doughnuts and coffee were waiting. Kierland had finally demanded an explanation of how Molly had ended up in South Carolina with Ian, since he still didn't know that she lived in Laurente. Then the talk had centered on the things Ian had learned from the Casus, and what they should do about them. They'd also discussed Ian's contracting business, which he'd agreed to close for the time being, since both of them would now be living at the compound. As noon had approached, the men had headed back to the airport...and Ian had taken Molly back to bed.
It was then, as they'd lain in one another's arms, their slick, heated bodies replete with the lingering pulse of pleasure, that he explained to her what had happened the day he'd left Colorado. And though he still hadn't repeated his stunning confession, Molly refused to give up hope. Each time he took her beneath his body, Ian pursued her declarations of love with single-minded intensity, shredding her defenses, refusing to allow her to hold the words inside, as if he needed them to ease some new, unquenchable craving. Molly clung to the hope that one day his own defenses would crumble, and he'd open his heart to her once again.
On Monday, they'd finally made their way to her apartment and packed her clothes, then made arrangements for a moving company to deal with the rest of her things, as well as her car. It was Tuesday now, and their flight left in a little over three hours--but they'd saved the most important task for last.
As they reached the end of the path, they came to Elaina's grave, and Molly squeezed Ian's trembling hand, offering her silent encouragement. They didn't understand how Elaina had been able to tell Ian how to use the Marker against the Casus. All they knew was that she'd saved their lives, and after so many bitter, resentful years, Ian had finally made peace with his past.
Clutching the bouquet of pure white roses in his free hand, he knelt down and laid them at the base of the tombstone, staring at the simple words carved into the smooth granite. Molly sniffed, wiping the back of her wrist over her watery eyes as he reached out, tenderly touching Elaina's name with his long fingers. As he straightened, moving back to her side, a mysteriously cool breeze blew through the trees, rushing against their warm bodies. The chilly air swirled around them, ruffling their clothes, and they both went completely still, their eyes wide with awed wonder as the faint scent of honeysuckle filled the air. Then the breeze gently flowed away as quickly as it'd come, leaving them standing there beneath the sweltering summer sun.
A silent thank-you? An I love you?
Both, Molly thought, leaning up to press a tender kiss to his mouth. "I think this meant a lot to her," she whispered with a soft smile, though she was unable to control the hot flood of her tears.
"It means a lot to me, too," he told her, pulling her against him, burying his face in her hair.
He held her like that for a long, endless moment, his body vibrating with a low, tender frequency of emotion, and Molly stroked his broad back, offering her comfort.
"I have no right to do this to you," he suddenly whispered, breathing the words into her hair.
"But I can't fight it. I know the coming times are going to be hell, Molly. This is the start of something that's going to last for God knows how long, and you don't deserve to be trapped in the middle of a bloody war, but I can't...I can't walk away from you. After all these years, I finally know where I'm meant to be."
"And where's that?" she asked, her voice hitching as she tried to breathe her way through a dazzling, overwhelming burst of joy.
"Wherever you are. Always where you are, because I...I love you, and I can't live without you," he rasped, his deep voice harsh with emotion as he kissed her temple...the corner of her mouth, the poignant touch of his lips as powerful as it was beautiful. "I'm sorry the words don't come easy to me, Molls, but I swear that they're true."
Ian kissed her then, long and deep and hungry, stealing her breath, reducing her to a maddened, desperate state of craving that only he could ease. And when he growled low in his throat, forcing himself to break the devastating kiss, he held her tear-drenched face in his rough hands, staring deep into her eyes as he stroked his thumbs against the heat blooming beneath her skin. "I need you," he told her, the words pouring out of him in a halting, grating rush, "and if you'll give me a chance, I swear I'll never make you regret it. I'll do everything in my power to make you happy, to give you the life you deserve. I'll be your partner, your lover, your husband and the father of your children, and I'll always be faithful. You won't ever have to doubt me, Molls. I swear it." The corner of his mouth twitched with a rueful, endearingly crooked grin, making her melt with tenderness as he pressed his forehead to hers, saying, "I wish I could say it all pretty and poetic like, like you deserve, but you know that's not me. All I can give you is my heart, and promise that it will always be yours."
"Ian," she whispered, undone by his words, never imagining he would open himself up in such a romantic, breathtaking way. "I don't know what to say."
A tremor ran through his body, melting into hers, so that they stood together in a knot of shivering, trembling emotion. "Say you'll give me the chance," he groaned, putting the hoarse words into the sensitive curve of her shoulder as he lifted her off the ground.
"I'll give you anything." She half laughed, half hiccupped, undone by the way he clutched her against his body, his possessive hold so tight, she knew he'd never let her go. "Anything you want, Ian."
He grinned like a devil, his eyes glittering and bright, and then he took her mouth in another slow, deep, intimate kiss, before pulling away and saying, "Because you love me, Molly?"