Sins of the Undead Patriot (15 page)

“Come.” He tugged on her to follow him.

She shook her head and sniffled. “No. You never called yesterday.”

“I know.” Since her revelation, a fury brewed in his mind. “We can discuss that later.”

“You have company.” She pointed to the vehicles in the driveway.

“I don’t give a damn. You are the most important person in my life. They will understand.” He gathered her up to his body. “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

“I’m sorry.” With her fidgety hands, she adjusted her hair.

“Don’t be.” At least she’d come to him and not it. Their connection ran deep. This was a ray of hope.

She pressed a tissue to her nose and blew. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re more stunning than ever, and they better not be looking at you in that way.” If one of them so much as checked her out, he’d squeeze the life from him with his bare hands.

She caught his hand with shaky grip. He locked his fingers with hers. Soon she’d be his again.

Devin held the door open with a smirk.

As Leera entered the living room, she ducked behind Rowley.

“Leera, this is Devin, my right and left hand.” He gestured to him. “The jovial gentleman is Clay and the skinny prick is Wyatt.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.” She clutched his forearm.

“Nonsense. We were just finishing up, weren’t we?” He cued the others.

Wyatt nodded.

“Were there any questions?” Rowley grinned.

Clay rose. His four guards fell in behind him. Muscle heads. “No. If you say you can get the equipment in time, you will. I don’t know how, but somehow you always do. I will be in touch shortly. A pleasure meeting you, Leera.”

“A pleasure.” Wyatt hustled by, his hired help in tow. “I’ll be in touch.”

Devin held his hand out. “Leera, I’m honored to finally meet you.”

“Thank you, Devin, likewise.” She shook Devin’s hand and released it.

“I’m heading back to COTL Headquarters. To keep an eye on things.” He paused. “If you need anything, you know where I’ll
be
.”

Rowley jerked his head in acknowledgement, assured that Devin was headed to Army of the Living HQ, the warehouse. “Thank you.”

Devin closed the door behind him.

“Thirsty?” Rowley turned toward the kitchen to stop himself from grabbing her and kissing her senseless. The last one hadn’t gone as well as planned, and the embrace had only furthered his need.

“I’ve never cleared a room so fast in my life. I shouldn’t have come.”

He spun back, took hold of her wrist and pulled her near. “You’re damn straight, you should have.” Inhaling her scent, the mix of peach and soap, always warmed him, and now flushed his skin with heat. “I meant to call yesterday, when I got in.”

Tears welled in her eyes once more.

“Come.” He guided her into the kitchen.

Leera loosened the tie to her coat, revealing a tight white blouse and black skirt that hugged her body.

“All I want to do right now is kiss you. I know it’s selfish.” He leaned his hands on the counter and lowered his head.

“Why, because you’d take pleasure in it too?”

He whipped his head in her direction. A subtle sigh escaped her, and he lunged in, cupped her face and forced his lips on hers, crushing her mouth. Hunger erupted. He advanced, pushing her to the wall behind her. The love he’d shared with her created life–loss–pain. A tear trailed down his cheek. She had suffered alone. With his tongue he ventured into her mouth, tasting her peppermint breath, and sliding his hand over her ass, pulled her to his erection. Labored breaths lingered from her moans. She slipped her fingers in his hair, and her nails scraped his scalp. He grazed her lips with the edges of his teeth and reached the bottom of her skirt. Lifting the fabric, he exposed her thighs. As she pushed into the embrace with her own need, her breasts pressed to his chest. The fabric of her panties beneath his fingers was wet with her excitement. How far could he take this? He slid his digits under the material and rubbed her slick inner folds. She jerked her pelvis against the caress.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “When I’m with you, I feel. Apart, I’m the Tin Man–empty, hollow.”

Chapter 14

What could Leera say to Rowley’s words? Talk about no pressure–Barton had noted that a dash of truth and pure instinct would be what she needed.

“I’m scared of who and what others say you are.” On some level she couldn’t bring herself to believe that he was the cold, calculating man others believed him to be. “When I was younger, that edgy side of you thrilled me, but I’ve known more than my share of sorrow.” She crossed her arms. “That officer broke the headlight to intimidate you.”

He stepped back and sat at the counter stool. “Not me. You. I’m not afraid of the Gestapo tactics of the government. Peter and I don’t let them get away with the harassment.”

That was the reason she was in this mess. “Will the CPD knock at the door one day and escort me to identify a body–you?”

“They may, but you’ll know I went down guns blazing. The authorities might follow you and bring you in for questioning. I’ll do my best so that doesn’t happen. Life with me won’t be easy. The government doesn’t like that I and the Coalition of the Living bring their dirty deeds to light.” He patted the seat in front of him.

“Is that really why they are after you, Rowley?”

“If it isn’t, do you want to know? I can take you dark places. You won’t be proud of the things I have done. Nor those I will do. Can you accept that? Would you rather live with secrets between us? If I tell you, my life and freedom are in your hands. Do you want that responsibility?”

Somehow she would live with her betrayal. “Promise me the truth.” Despite her inability to do the same.

“Those that are mine alone to share, always.” He gestured for her to come to him. “May I have the same from you, Lee-lee? Do the streets run both ways between us?”

She sat in front of him. As much as she could give him, she would.

He smoothed back her hair.

“If you want them to. You might learn things about me you’d have rather never known.” She traced his plump bottom lip with her thumb and lowered her mouth to his.

He planted soft kisses on her flesh. A rush of warmth shot through her. He wrapped his hot hands around the back of her thighs and lifted her to his lap. Through the fabric of his pants, his hard length slid between her outer labia, over her clit. She moaned, letting her head fall back. Once, she had idolized him. He loosened the tie of her blouse, freeing her of the restraint. As he kissed downward to her breast, his exhaled breath blew over her skin. He reached into her bra, pulled the mound of her breast from the material. Then he flicked her nipple with his tongue, circling her areola, which sent scorching wet lightning straight to her clit.

Grinding her hips against him, she stroked her sex on his cock. “Yes, Rowley.” With her eyes shut tight, tears glided down the side of her face into her hair. She would get through this. “Take me,” she coaxed him on, cradling his head.

He lowered his face to her chest and grew still. “When you are ready, I won’t need to take.” With his index finger, he traced along the stream of her tears.

The way things were going, she’d never pull this off. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, but your mind did.” He sighed.

She hated that he knew her too well. How could she let him in, when pain weakened her mind because of what had happened between them last time?

“I’ve been thinking things over.” He lifted her head.

Framed by the fan of his dark lashes his navy blue eyes seemed intensified. “You decided for me if I could deal with the truth of what happened. For fifteen years you hid something from me, which I had every right to know. I forgive you. However, you have lived believing that only Jean loved and understood you. You’re wrong. I know why you couldn’t tell me. You were angry at me and you still are. It’s why you told me as you did.”

Could he believe that? “No. Why would I be?”

“I was reckless with you.” Nodding, he emphasized his point.

Evidently he didn’t get it. “I’m the one who wanted sex without protection.”

“And I should have said no. You will need to forgive me,” he said, skimming the edge of her mouth with his thumb.

“I don’t blame you.” Why would she? She’d needed to be loved so badly she had taken what he had given her.

“Yes, you do. That is why you went away. It’s how you were able to say what you did to me at the coffee shop. Your body is damaged because of me. Because I wanted to trap you.”

“No.” She pushed his chest.

“Yes.” He grabbed her shoulders, holding onto her. “Look at me. I wanted you so badly to be mine. When I came inside you, I hope and prayed to God I’d knocked you up. Your parents would have done all the dirty work for me.” He nodded. “It barely took any suggesting on my part. A few offhanded comments about other girls I’d been with and what I did with them. You were insecure–desperate. Truly, you had no reason to be.”

How could he say such things, play on her weakness like that? “Why are you telling me this?”

“I promised you truths that are mine to tell you. This one is mine to own. I did go after you in Paris. I found you there, crushed. You hurt as bad as I did, and I wanted you to suffer for the pain you’d caused me. I wanted you to beg for me to take you back. I had no idea how much more you’d paid for my misdeed, Lee-lee. I thought you’d come back and tell me you were wrong. Then you met Jean and everything changed.”

Jean hadn’t cared about her past. Only her future. The age difference kept him insecure and doting over her. He had worried about her losing interest, but he had made her feel safe. No matter what she did, he loved her, cared for her, treated her with kindness.

“You never told him the child was mine, did you?”

She shook her head. How could she, when Jean felt the sexual tension between her and Rowley? The reveal would have only fueled further self-doubt on Jean’s part. “I suspect he knew.” Already Rowley’s stunts of French kissing her under the mistletoe had Jean whirling. She hated the part of her that had liked to provoke Jean just to see how he’d react.

“Did he know when you made love to him you thought of me?” Rowley pulled her body into his.

“Fuck you, Rowley.” She slapped him.

Without even a flinch, he slid his hand under her panties. “Tell me I’m lying.” He rubbed her nub, then slid his fingers into her inner folds.

But she couldn’t. And he knew that. Yes, she’d loved Jean, but physically she’d longed for Rowley’s depravity in bed, the complete loss of all inhibitions he demonstrated. She thrust to meet his plunging fingers. What he was asking of her wasn’t right.

A third digit stretched her sides. “Did you ever enjoy fucking him?”

Why did he need her to speak of these things? “Yes.” Tears ran down her face. Without her surrender to these truths, he wouldn’t trust in her.

“When Lee-lee? When did you get off fucking your husband?” He pumped in and out of her.

“When you knew he was fucking me. When you could hear us. When I saw the pain in your eyes for knowing he had me and you didn’t.”

“That’s it.” He glided his thumb back and forth over her clit. “Set us free from the lies, our facades.”

She jerked as he stroked inside her. “Rowley.” Her inner muscles tightened around his digits, and the wave of pleasure rippled through her. Tears burned her eyes, blurring her vision as she quaked helplessly in his arms, head resting on his shoulder.

“It’s okay.” He held her to him. “I forgive you.”

Every part of her ached as she rested on his chest, his heart pounding next to her ear.

He caressed her back. “I forgive you.”

But did she pardon his sins? Or herself, for the life she’d given a man who worshiped her.

* * * *

Nervous energy buzzed inside Leera’s tummy. Topsy-turvy it went. Her hands grew clammy. Etched into the frosted glass of the storefront was
Tusta Spa
. This was Washington’s high-end retreat and all the who’s who frequented the new-age oasis.

Vaihan opened her door and held his hand out. “I’ve booked the spa for the evening.”

What did he mean booked the spa? “The entire place?” Impossible.

As his lips curved upward to one side, the dimple in the corner of his mouth appeared. “Yes.”

Maybe he was a god or Don Juan. Not that she minded, either way. When she was with him, she felt like the only woman in the world. Candles lined the pathway inside. The flames flickered and made shadows dance on the cream-colored walls. Butterflies fluttered in her heart. Was further exploration on the menu tonight? What kind of man–undead went through all the trouble of this elaborate a seduction? Vaihan. But why? All this for the case he worked on for the CIA to get to her brother? Overkill!

A young woman dressed in a white Lululemon top and pants bowed to them. “I will escort her to the ladies’ changing room.”

When the woman waved her away from Vaihan, Leera gripped his arm.