Forever and a Day (20 page)

Tamara climbed the stairs with Lars right behind her. They’d run into Garen and Miranda when they’d come back inside the house during the hail storm. Garen had insisted on cracking a bottle of champagne to celebrate their mating, and Miranda had immediately begun planning their wedding. It wouldn’t happen until June, so they had a few months, but Miranda assured her they’d need every minute of it to attend to all the details. About all they’d decided was to hold the ceremony at Lars’ home in Heidelberg.

They’d sat in the study for hours chatting until Tamara had actually dozed off. Lars had excused them then and they were finally on their way to their room. She tried to think how long it had been since she’d had a night’s sleep and couldn’t come up with an answer. Certainly not since she’d killed Jaret, and that had to have been going on a few days ago. Maybe more. She tried counting days, but her brain was too fuzzy.

Lars opened the door to their room; she crossed it on autopilot and fell onto the bed, where he took her clothes off. She tried to help, but he batted her hands away and crooned to her in German.

“What are you saying?” she asked sleepily.

“That I love you. That you are very beautiful and very precious.”

“It’s the first thing I want to do.”

“What is?” He addressed his own clothing, dropping it in a heap on a nearby chair.

“Learn German.”

“The Company has language tapes for almost every language.”

“Sure and you would. Makes sense.”

“What I speak is a dialect. Much of it has fallen out of usage, but if you tackle modern German, you will be able to understand most of my words. We can practice together, so long as you promise to help me with Irish.” He pulled the window curtains and joined her in the large, comfy bed. She rolled into his arms and was asleep in moments.

When she woke, the room was truly dark, so much so she knew night had not only fallen, but moved past midnight. The gentle sound of Lars’ breathing next to her was reassuring. She reached for him and was surprised when he said, “You are awake,
liebchen
.”

“Yes, but how come you are?”

“I do not need much sleep.” He rolled over and struck a match. The smell of sulphur was sharp for a moment, and then a candle flickered to life on his bedside table. She sat up in bed and turned so she could look at him. His ice-blond hair was tousled from the pillow. His face, while still sharp planes and angles, looked softer somehow, and his gray eyes reflected twin flames in their depths from the candlelight.

She traced the line of his cheekbone down to his jaw. “I can’t believe how lucky I was to find you. You’re such a beautiful man. Kind and compassionate, even though you try to come off tough.”

“What was that you said out in the gazebo? Something like,
I have your number
.” He grinned. It transformed his face into one that would have fit a mischievous imp. “Maybe my, um, softer side can be our little secret. The men would never stop haranguing me if they overheard you yapping about
kind and compassionate
.”

“Never fear.” She moved her hand downward, trailing her fingers over his well-muscled shoulders and across his chest. “Earlier you said you were falling in love with me. Sure and that’s a two way street.”

He laid a hand over hers, trapping it atop his hard, flat stomach. “Say it,
liebchen
.” He speared her with his smoky gaze. “If I could get the words out, anyone can.”

She felt the words, tasted them on her tongue. Her cat purred deep inside, urging her on. “If wanting to spend my life with you, raise children with you, get up with you by my side every day for the rest of my life is love, then yes, I’m in love with you.” Her throat thickened. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

“Thank you. I am ashamed to admit it, but I needed to hear you say just that.”

“Why ashamed?”

A sheepish grin spread over his face. “Because big, tough espionage agents are not supposed to require such things.” He snorted. “You should have watched the struggles Garen went through before he gave up and accepted he and Miranda were mates.”

His cock stirred to life just south of her hand. The tip grazed her and she wriggled her hand from beneath his and curved her fingers around his growing erection. “Guess this little man didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.” She squeezed firmly and his cock jumped in her hand.

Lars laughed. “He sees himself as a pretty important fellow.”

She bent forward and ran her mouth down his breastbone and across his stomach. Just before she took him into her mouth, she looked up long enough to say, “Good, because I see him as pretty important too.”

Tamara licked and kissed up and down the length of Lars’ shaft. His hips settled into a rhythm, and he thrust himself into the combination of mouth and hands she worked him with. Her nipples pebbled as lust electrified her nerves. Her pussy flooded and the sensitive nubbin between her legs swelled with desire.

He pulled her body upward until she kneeled over him. Sliding forward, she seated him at the entrance to her body and pushed until he was all the way inside. He felt incredible, stretching her with his amazing cock. He was so big, he reached places no one else ever had. She settled onto bent knees and watched his stern features melt into ecstasy as they made love.

Lars moved a hand between her legs and settled the other on one of her breasts. He rubbed her clit in small, sensuous circles and twirled her nipple into a hard, aching point before moving to the other breast. Between his cock inside her and his fingers on the center of her sensation, an orgasm spilled from her, racked her with delight, and left her gasping and panting above him.

“Perfect.” He smiled up at her. “I wanted to watch you come.”

She remembered it was what she’d wanted to do, but she’d been so hot her mind had turned to mush. He moved his hands to her hips and thrust deep, withdrew, and did it again. “This one will be for us,” he said. “Touch yourself for me, like you did before.”

She slid a hand between her legs, capturing her passion-slick nub. Something shifted and she felt him in her mind. Felt his body as if it were hers. Felt the heat of her around his cock. The added sensation was like a white-hot jolt of pure lust. She thrust hard against him, matching him stroke for stroke as they urged each other on.

When she came, she felt his orgasm deep in the pit of her belly and shrieked, almost beyond herself, drowning in sensation. There were no more boundaries. She was him. He was her. Joined body and soul forever.

She fell atop him, so shattered breathing took all her concentration. When she could talk again, she asked. “What happened? What did you do?”

“It was not me, but us. When we made love as cats, it cemented the mate bond. We are truly one now, my darling, my love. You are mine and I am yours for forever and a day.”

“Sure and I love the sound of that,” she murmured. “Forever and a day,
mo croi
, my heart. I will love you always.”

Three months later

Heidelberg, Germany

Lars twisted from side to side, trying to make certain his tuxedo didn’t have any problems and that the studs and cufflinks were all in their proper holes. He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. He was smiling like a besotted fool. He’d have to do something about that, or he’d ruin his image for sure.

There was a lot to smile about, though. Tamara had taken to field agent training like a sculptor to a favored medium. She’d made such excellent progress, both he and Garen were positive she’d be ready for simple assignments before the end of the year.

The last three months had been little short of idyllic. They’d spent the first month with Garen and Miranda. Between field drills and physical conditioning during the day, intense, crazy lovemaking every night, and letting their cats out to romp and play, Lars was a happy man. He’d never been so fulfilled, heart, body, and soul. He’d wondered what sort of physical fitness Tamara had chosen to stay in shape. It turned out she biked and ran, plus lifting weights. He’d added pilates and yoga, for concentration and balance, to her regimen, along with target practice.

They’d traveled to his home in Heidelberg in early May, and he’d introduced her to The Company’s agents stationed in Europe. Though she’d had conversations with her family, she hadn’t seen them. He’d spoken with her father to formally request her hand in marriage. The other shifter had told Lars flat out that if his daughter wasn’t happy, he’d personally hunt him down and annihilate him. Both men had laughed after that, but Lars recognized truth when he heard it.

He was a bit nervous about meeting Tamara’s family. All of them were coming for the wedding, even the brothers and sisters from her parents’ earlier lives that she’d never met. While excited by the prospect of meeting more family, Tamara was apprehensive too. Everyone knew she’d avenged Moira’s death, and she was uncertain if they’d laud her or tell her she’d been a fool.

Lars drew in a deep, appreciative breath. He’d have to get moving soon, but he could take a few moments more to daydream about his mate, soon to be his wife. Their relationship had deepened and blossomed. His cock stirred, but then it hardened whenever he thought about her. Beyond the sexual part of their relationship, though, they were well-matched. They both loved exercise and reading and watching old movies on late night television. When he’d admitted he was a closet opera buff, she’d clapped her hands together in delight, and they’d launched into a five hour conversation about various operas, with promises to see every single one over the next few years.

He’d moved well beyond falling in love to being in love. Deeply so. If that pseudo-cop hadn’t pulled him over on his way to the airport and kept him cooling his heels, he’d never have met her. To have something so important reduced to chance chilled him, until he understood someone had been watching out for him that day. If shifters had a god, maybe he or she had decided he’d been alone long enough, and had taken pity on him.

A sharp tap sounded on his door just before Garen tumbled into his room. He whistled long and low. “My but aren’t we resplendent. Where’d you get the tux?”

“Back of my closet.”

“Did you check it for moth holes?” Garen circled him like an overactive helicopter.

“Some of us keep mothballs in our armoires.” He held out a hand. Garen clasped it. “Are the guests starting to arrive?”

Garen nodded. He clamped his jaw together, muttered, “What the hell,” and drew Lars into a quick embrace. “I’m so happy for you.” He clapped him on the back and withdrew a few steps.

“Thanks. Who would have guessed a year ago that before twelve months passed, we’d both be mated men?”

“Good point. Are you ready?”

Lars nodded. He and Garen headed for the door at the same time, bumping shoulders before he motioned his oldest friend through ahead of him.

•●•

Tamara wove lily of the valley into her dark tresses with hands that only shook a little. She’d redone her makeup twice because tears had ruined it. She assessed her dress in the floor-length mirror. It truly was beautiful. Made of heirloom lace and silk, it had been in Lars’ family for hundreds of years. Fine embroidery in pink, blue, and lilac covered the snug bodice. The gown had a dropped waist and hugged her figure from shoulder to hipline. Long, flowing sleeves of sheer silk fell to her wrists. The skirt draped in layers and ended in a train that was so long, she was afraid she’d trip over it in her high heels.

She flexed a foot and took a few tentative steps. Though she’d practiced walking in the shoes in the weeks since she’d bought them, they were still wretchedly uncomfortable.

“Can I come in?” Miranda called from the other side of the closed door.

“Please.” Tamara turned and grinned at her friend as she slipped into the room. “By all the bloody saints, I’m nervous as a whore in church.”

Miranda threw back her head and laughed. “You’re funny. Do I look okay to be your matron of honor?”

Tamara glanced at the lavender linen suit, silk blouse, and sensible flat pumps. “You look gorgeous. Sure and I’d like to borrow your shoes.”