Retribution (58 page)

“About four hours if you don't stop for anything.”

“That's where I want to go,” she decided. “Now that I can fly, that's the first place I want to go when we have time to spare.”

“Are you sure? You have the whole world at your fingertips.”

“I'm sure. I want you to take me. I want to start at the top, and I want to kiss you in every pool before jumping into the freezing water.”

“I’d love to experience that with you, Layla, and I'll do everything I can to get you there.”

“Then I'll get there,” she returned, smiling as she planned their future vacation in her head. “Tell me about another location you like to visit.”

“Okay. How about I start with my preferred points of interest in some of the places you mentioned earlier?”

“Perfect,” she approved, picking up her lobster tail, and by the time she finished her soufflé, she'd mentally visited a special setting in each of her desired vacation destinations.

Still reflecting on the white sands and volcanic rock of Hawaii, she finished her wine and set the glass down. “You're a good story teller, Quin. You paint a picture better than photos.”

He smiled as he vanished the floating table. “I'd rather show you those places than tell you about them.”

“And I'd rather see them, but let's not be greedy. I mean, I just ate lobster while sitting in my private mineral pool for crying out loud. And that’s not even the best part of my night, because I have you – the most amazing man in the world. I’m a lucky girl, Quin. So lucky.”

He was watching her lips. Then he looked at her eyes, staring so intently it made her throat and heart swell. She swallowed, and his gaze went to the air around her as his palms took her cheeks. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, like he was soaking in her aura. Then he looked at her and smiled. “I love you, Layla, more than I ever thought I could love someone.”

She took a shaky breath as moisture stung her eyes. “I know…”

Touching a forefinger to her lips, he leaned closer. “Just listen, because I want you to hear this, and if I don’t say it now, I might not get the chance.”

Her heart and lungs quickened, her emotions bubbling to the surface, but she stayed quiet.

He brushed her hair from her face while kissing her nose. Then he leaned back and found her eyes. “Life was ridiculously easy before you, Layla. I didn’t struggle with anything. But then you showed up, and everything changed. It’s not easy anymore. The past two weeks have been the hardest of my life.”

She puckered, and he slid his thumb to her pout as he shook his head. “Don’t feel guilty. That’s not why I’m saying this. I’m telling you this because you need to know what you’ve done to me… what you do to me.”

Her bottom lip rested on his thumb as she anxiously waited, knowing he was about to grab her heartstrings and yank.

“The last few weeks have been hard,” he continued, “but they’ve also been the happiest and most rewarding of my life. They’ve proven my potential; they’ve shown me I didn’t have a clue what satisfaction felt like; and they’ve given my life meaning. When I look into your eyes, I see everything more clearly. When you smile, the whole world brightens. When you speak to me, it’s like I’m hearing for the first time. And when you give me your body, I discover parts of myself I never knew existed. Then there’s your heart,” he whispered, sliding his fingers from her cheek to her chest. “Your perfect heart. It’s so amazing, Layla. It makes my heart bigger, better and stronger, giving it a higher purpose than pumping blood. Every part of you changes every part of me, and I love the new me. When I'm your man, I’m the man I want to be, no matter how hard it gets. And it’s about to get rough. But I’ll either emerge from this battle with you, or I won’t emerge at all. When the smoke clears, I’ll be by your side, and it will be that way forever.”

Yep. He'd broken her open and exposed her soul, ripping away her defenses until she was raw and vulnerable with emotions exploding all over the place, bursting from an internal glow only he could give her. She tried hard not to cry. She wanted to look him in the eye and return his beautiful declaration, but the words didn’t come when she opened her mouth. Just a pitiful squeak. And with that, she sobbed and threw herself into his chest, burying her face as her tears mingled with steam.

His arms came around her back and head, encasing her in a strong hug. Then he lowered his lips to her hair, holding her close while her tender heart bled.

Once her sobs turned to sniffles, he tightened his hug and hovered from the pool, and she barely felt the bite of the chilly, night air before the heated house swept it away. The next thing she heard was water hitting porcelain, and she braced herself to leave his hug so they could take a shower. But he kept her in his arms as he stepped under the spray. Then he washed her hair and body without putting her down.

After magically drying, he dressed her in a silk robe and wrapped a towel around his waist. Then he carried her into their golden suite. Only then did he urge her from her safe spot, and she fought more tears as she met his stare.

“There are those gorgeous eyes,” he whispered, flashing a smile.

She reached up and touched his perfect lips, those that spoke beautiful words to her and gave her soul-shocking kisses in all the right places. Moving her forefinger to a faint laugh line, she swallowed a lump and looked to his eyes. “You say I've changed you, Quin, but without you, I wouldn't be the woman you love. I’d be sad and cynical and lost in the dark. My life is hard, but being with you is easy.”
 

He turned his head and kissed her fingertip. Then he lowered her feet to the floor while waving a hand through the air. The golden room filled with the soft tinkle of piano keys, and Layla looked over, marveling at the baby grand that appeared to play a slow and sweet tune.

He pulled her palm to his chest. Then he moved one hand to her back while taking her cheek in the other. “Dance with me, my love.”

It wasn’t a request, and before she could respond, he’d swept her into a spin. Gold walls flashed around them, but her gaze stayed on his, her feet somehow keeping up. Probably because he could lead her anywhere and she'd be compelled to follow.

The music rose to a crescendo, and he danced her from one end of the suite to the other, making her feel like a princess floating across a ballroom. She could be any one of the beautiful maidens in the fairy tales she read as a child. But in her own story, a life more enchanting than even the most magical tale, prince charming wasn’t just a pretty face with good timing. Quin was much more – a strong man with an even stronger heart and the body of a god to hold it; a man who’d steal the moon for her if she asked him to. He didn’t just save her, breathing life into her when she had none; he completed her, balanced her, showed her the good when faced with the bad. No one had ever loved another like he loved her.

When the music softened, he slowed, pulling her in until her ear found his heart. Then he showered the top of her head in kisses as his thumb stroked her face, their feet still drifting across plush carpet.

She wedged her arms between them and closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat add rhythm to the tinkling of the piano, and her body throbbed with waves of emotion. They kept her eyelids stinging with tears, and her lungs heaved as her heart stuttered through what may be their last dance on earth.

The song changed, and he kept her close while adjusting his steps to the dramatic tempo, urging her to do the same with ridiculous ease. “I thought you'd never danced with a man,” he whispered.

She left his heart to find his eyes. “I hadn't.”

“You move like you've been dancing with them for years.”

“I'm not paying any attention to my feet, Quin. I'm just following you. Put me in different arms and I'm sure you'd see my inexperience.”

“No,” he refused. “I won't test that theory. It's within my arms you belong, so that’s where you'll stay.” He released her cheek and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her up his body as the piano tapped out a faster beat. “Do you have any objections?”

“That's a silly question,” she answered. “Not only would I be stunned if you put me in another man's arms, I’d be pissed, and I don't think either of us likes it when I'm mad.”

He grinned as he spun her around. Then he dipped her back and leaned in, kissing the cleft between her breasts. His lips trailed up her chest as he straightened, taking the time to dip his tongue into the hollow of her throat. Then he licked the hot skin quivering over her pulse before finding her mouth. “Layla Love Callaway, will you make love to me until the sun comes up?”
 

She smiled, her tongue flitting over his bottom lip as she vanished her robe. “That's an even sillier question. I’d make love to you until the sun blows up.”

He gently nibbled on her grin as he floated to the bed. Then he laid her down and moved to her feet. First he picked up her right foot, resting its sole in his palm as he kissed all five toes and the arch on top. Then he returned it to the bed and repeated the process with her left foot.

She stayed quiet as she watched him, and while the piano's soft serenade was absorbed by her ears, his tender touch was absorbed by an oddball combination of her feet and heart.

He moved to her ankles, and she laughed as she wiggled her toes in his hand. “Are you going to do that to my entire body?”

He looked up, his expression serious. “Yes.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her heart melting as her insides quivered.

“Will you let me?” he asked.

She touched her toe to his chin and smiled. “Yes.”

“Good,” he sighed, “because I’ve wanted to do this since I met you. I promise I won't take all night.”

She wiggled, getting comfortable so she wouldn't fidget. Then she took a deep breath and relaxed. “Take all the time you need.”

“I'll make it worth your while,” he assured, moving to her legs, and before his pursuit ended, he’d literally touched or kissed every part of her body. Not one tiny spot was left undiscovered, not one curve, dip or groove neglected. There were moments when she couldn't withhold her blush, but she didn't try to hide from him, and by keeping her focus on the feel of him, she remained relaxed.

Along his journey, Quin memorized every detail... again. Very few of his discoveries were new, but he recommitted the ones he already knew, and scrupulously retained the few he didn't. Then he placed them all in a guarded mental compartment. The way she looked, the way she felt, her ambrosial smell and sweet taste, it was all in the forefront of his mind, burned into the backs of his eyelids, flooding his nasal passages, and tantalizing his tongue.

His final target was her lips, flushed with a delicious combination of desire and innocence, soft flesh pulsing over her strong heartbeat. Even now that he’d traveled over every tangible inch of her body, her lips remained his favorite. “You're beautiful,” he whispered. “But that's not why I love you, so when the time comes for your body to turn to dust, you'll still be my perfect angel.”
 

She sucked in a choppy breath, and he smiled as he vanished his towel and parted her legs. If he shifted a bit... yes, he could feel his heaven, and it was wet. To know she was ready and wanting had him throbbing.

“Having said that,” he added, “I love your body. I've had fantasies about it since the night I met you, most of them beautifully fulfilled over the past two weeks, but there are more, and tonight might be our last chance. So put all that sweet modesty aside, because I’m about to take you places neither of us have ever been.”

“Oh god,” she breathed, her fingernails curling into his chest, “please do.”

So he did, taking her every way desired, sweet and sinful alike, until the sun came up.

Chapter 40

Layla's heart was out of control, thumping harder than ever before, fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings. Smoke cleared to reveal a terrain bathed in blood, and as she looked down, her speeding heart twisted with grief.

No! It can't be real, but it looked real, it felt real, it smelled real.

She stood on a vast slab of slick ice, a shrouded moon providing murky light to a scene that reeked of scorched flesh and death. And there, among the chaos, lay Quin, wounded and draining of life. His black shorts were singed at the edges, and his biceps were draped with charred remnants of leather bands. His bare chest was pale as it laboriously rose and fell, and the muscles in his limbs bulged and tragically twitched.

“No!” She dropped to the bloody ice beside him and tightly clasped his blanched cheeks. “Quin.”

His dark eyes found her face, his feeble heartbeat trying to match hers, but it couldn't keep up. Her bare legs registered a shift in temperature, and she looked down, first to her knees, then his side, which gaped open, spilling blood over the frozen earth.

She cried out and pressed her hands to the grisly wound, trying to stem the bleeding. Her heart was making her numb, so she couldn't feel the organs pushing at his burnt and severed skin, only warmth, but she knew they were there, just beneath her desensitized palms – palms that weren't big enough to do a damn bit of good. His blood steadily seeped around them and coagulated at her knees.

“Oh god, Quin, what do I do?”

She looked away from the horrifying tear in his left flank and found his face, but he didn't answer. He just stared at her as if watching his final sunset.