Before he could stop her, Sorrah’s lips pressed against his. He placed his hands at her waist and tried to gently push her away, but she refused to budge.
“What is going on here?” Victor’s voice drifted across the courtyard to them.
Nicoli and Sorrah sprang apart guiltily and turned to face two equally angry faces.
The irony of the situation was not lost on Nicoli.
Angel was so mad, she could hardly see straight. Beside her, Victor had lost all semblance of the charming man he’d been all afternoon. The look he sent Nicoli was lethal and Angel wondered that Nicoli didn’t die right there on the spot.
“Sorrah,” he growled. “You will come with me now.”
The maid’s eyes grew large as she watched him stride toward her, but she did not cower or pull away when he reached her side and took her arm.
“I’m sure the Colonel and his wife would like some privacy.” Victor put extra emphasis on the word “wife” while pinning Nicoli with an accusing glare. After a moment’s silence, he turned to face Angel. “If you will excuse us?”
He practically dragged the maid back into the palace, but Angel didn’t feel sorry for her in the least. Left alone, Nicoli walked the short distance separating them.
“I can explain.”
“Can you?” She didn’t have to fake the frost in her tone. “All that talk about acting like a legitimately married couple.” She shook her head. “I guess fidelity doesn’t mean much to Althusians.”
The attack hit a nerve. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him, thrusting his face close to hers. “And you've been the model wife, haven't you? Don't bother lying. I saw you out here with him.” He sneered.
She stared at him, too stunned to speak for a moment. “YOU’RE accusing ME?” She tried to jerk her arm away, but his grip was too tight.
“His arms were all over you. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Oh well, you caught me,” she said sarcastically, her voice growing louder. “But somehow I don’t think practicing with the warring blade is the same thing as
kissing
!” She shouted.
With a powerful yank, she freed her arm from his grasp and stormed out of the courtyard, not stopping until she reached the practice field. Confused by hurt and anger, she stood beside the rack of practice blades, absently clenching and unclenching her fists. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement.
“What do you want?”
“We need to talk,” Nicoli said, having followed her.
Angel eyed the blades in the rack, then grabbed one by the hilt, blades down, and tossed it to him.
“If you want to talk to me, you’ll need this.”
She walked to an open area, satisfied to see that he followed her. Despite the ache in her arms from the earlier practice with Victor, she raised her weapon and held it ready. She doubted Nicoli had ever used a warring blade before which gave her a slight advantage.
“Heads up.”
She lunged at him, catching him off guard, but he recovered quickly, blocking the downward descent of her blades. He parried with a gentler stroke of his own. She blocked his move then attacked again, swinging her weapon, letting anger fuel her strength. The impact caused Nicoli to fall back a step.
“Sorry,” Angel spoke with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you weren’t up to a real workout. I’ll try to pull my strikes a bit, go easy on you.”
Nicoli drew himself up to his full height and looked down at her with a thunderous expression. When she brought her blades down for the next strike, he blocked it with such force, the impact of the blades clashing reverberated up her arm and left her skull ringing. Or maybe that was her temper ringing in her ear. Instinctively, she took a step back.
“Just for the record,” Nicoli snarled, stepping forward. “Sorrah kissed me. I didn’t kiss her.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She lost more ground when Nicoli lunged and she took a step back to ease the impact of her block. Furious with herself, she swung the blades over her head and brought them crashing down. The effort cost her dearly.
“Fine. Then let’s talk about what you were doing out here all alone with Victor.” Nicoli blocked yet another blow that fell too hard for a practice session.
“For your information, I was investigating him.” She was breathing hard and small muscle tremors were making it difficult to hold the weapon steady, but she refused to stop.
“I don’t want you spending time with him.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
He brought his weapon up to meet hers and their blades locked together. Nicoli pressed his advantage, towering over her. “Yes, I can. I’m your husband.”
Angel tried to break her weapon free, but Nicoli’s strength and her own fatigue made it impossible.
“Yield.” Nicoli’s quiet tone hinted at more than just the blades.
“Never.”
Lowering his arm, he forced the tip of her long blade to the ground and trapped it there. “Yield to me.”
His eyes held hers hostage and the raw masculine power of his gaze washed over her, enveloping her, stealing her strength and sense of purpose until his demand became an echo of her own desire. Her resolve weakened and her fingers began to lose their grip on the blade. The slight upward tug of Nicoli’s lips, the look of smug satisfaction on his face, broke the spell.
Feeling for the small button in the grip of her weapon, she pressed it.
“You first.” The hilt separated from the blade and with a last burst of energy, she quickly raised her hand and placed the dagger’s sharp edge against his throat.
Their gazes locked again. She struggled to keep her hand from trembling, afraid she really might draw blood. There was no fear in Nicoli’s gaze.
Suddenly her feet were kicked out from under her.
Unable to get her arms back in time to cushion her fall, she hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her. In the nanosecond it took to catch her breath, Nicoli pinned her to the ground with his body. She brought her hands up to beat at him, but he caught them easily and held them trapped beneath one of his, using the other for support.
Brown eyes glared into hers. The intensity in Nicoli’s scowl, the anger she felt in the tenseness of his body, caused Angel to shudder. Yet she lifted her chin. Seeing it, Nicoli shook his head, a nasty grin spread across his face. “Lesson number one, wife. Don’t pull it out unless you intend to use it.”
Angel struggled to take in air, desperately wishing his body didn’t feel so good. “Get off me.”
“Not before you yield to me.”
“Never.” She struggled against him, but the effort did nothing more than rub their bodies together. The earthy scent of crushed grass and dirt rose to mingle with the aroma of virile male, filling her senses. Her mind begged her to resist, but her body refused. Beneath his weight, her pulse quickened in anticipation.
As if reading her reaction, he gave her that knowing smile. “Yield,” he whispered, his breath fanning her face.
Again, she twisted beneath him, a futile attempt. When a groan escaped his lips, she froze, noticing for the first time his arousal pressing against her stomach. For what seemed an eternity, their eyes locked on one another, searching, assessing. Anticipating.
Then his mouth captured hers and there was nothing tender in the painful pressing of his lips against hers. She tried to turn away, but he used the weight of his body to keep her pinned to the ground while he held her head still between his hands. Though she should have been frightened, she wasn’t. Desire shot through her and when Nicoli’s tongue demanded entry into her mouth, she opened to him.
His tongue swept inside her mouth, leaving no part untouched and she reveled in the sensations. She had never been kissed like this and it left her feeling dizzy.
A distant part of her mind whispered caution, almost too faint to be heard. Danger lay this way - danger to her heart. To her soul. But something else waited as well, just out of reach. Something she’d experienced once before with this man; something she’d never experience again once they were divorced. She would take all she could now and live off the memories later.
Passion overriding caution, Angel’s hands gripped Nicoli’s powerful shoulders as she matched his urgency with a hunger she herself did not recognize. Nicoli too seemed surprised, but then she felt the subtle change in his actions as his need to dominate evolved into something else.
His mouth abandoned her lips to trail tiny kisses down the column of her neck, pausing every now and then to suck gently at the tender skin. The hand at her side moved to her breast, cupping it, gently squeezing. When she arched into him, it seemed to push Nicoli over the edge and he ripped open her shirt, exposing her to the air.
She should have felt vulnerable, but she didn’t. His look was one of near reverence, intense hunger, and it made her feel beautiful. Nicoli lowered his head to tease the nipple with his tongue before catching it lightly between his teeth and gently tugging. The sensation was exquisite, and low in her abdomen, anticipation grew. She moved her hips to relieve the tension and felt Nicoli’s quick intake of breath as she rubbed against his swollen manhood.
Nicoli’s hand moved to her waist, working to undo the fastening of her pants. Within moments he’d worked them down her legs and they lay, forgotten, off to the side. The roughened palm of his hand ran along the outside of her leg, up toward her hip. He rolled his weight to one side so he could gain better access to the inside of her thighs. With a light pressure, he opened her legs to his exploration.
Using her own dampness, he moistened her feminine folds. Then with experienced deftness, his finger swept inside her. Sensation shot through her, narrowing her focus of the world to where his hand joined her body.
“Please, Nicoli,” she whispered in a breathless plea, tilting her hips to meet the growing need within her.
“Yield to me, Kiera,” he whispered. “I won’t let you fall.” He captured her lips, letting his fingers probe her more deeply.
There was no need for her to speak. They both knew he’d won. The tingling sensation between her legs increased and she felt the tightening in her abdomen. Growing desperate, Angel reached down to stroke his hardened member through the fabric of his pants. He groaned into her mouth, then suddenly pulled away, leaving her alone.
Through eyes dulled with passion, she searched for him. He stood close by, shedding his clothes with a swift efficiency. Before her body could catch a chill he was back. Angel felt the warmth of his skin against hers and it was a feeling of such primal satisfaction, she thought she might burst.
Positioned above her, he opened her legs with his knees. She felt him probe the cleft of her body, a brief warning before he thrust inside, filling her completely. He gave her only a moment to adjust to his size before withdrawing. The dew of her excitement eased his second entry and he penetrated her more deeply. She shuddered in response as he held himself still, filling her, watching her.
At first, he moved slowly, deliberately, demonstrating his dominance and control. But his rhythm soon changed, each thrust coming harder and more rapidly. Now there was no gentleness in his actions, nor did she want there to be.
This was a mating ritual older than time itself, driven by sheer instinct. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she held on, conscious only of the crescendo of some inner power, building until it could no longer be contained. When the explosion came, accompanied by Nicoli’s primal groan of release, she soared higher than the stars in the furthest reaches of space.
* * * * *
How long they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Nicoli had no idea. He wanted to stay this way forever. In part because it felt so good, but a part of him hoped to put off facing what he had done. Funny, he thought wryly, he’d never been a coward before. Why suddenly now? Was it because he’d never taken a woman by force before? Or was it because that woman was Angel?
He shouldn’t have done it this way. He’d just been so angry, seeing her with Victor. Didn’t she realize how dangerous the man could be? By spending too much time with Victor, Angel risked exposing their marriage for the sham it was.
A small part of his brain called him a liar. His intentions had not been for the sake of the mission. They had been more selfish, but that was a line of thought Nicoli refused to pursue.
He looked at Angel, cradled in his arms. He had to make her understand that they must, in all ways, behave as a married couple. Nicoli had no doubt he could go through with the charade and walk away emotionally unscathed when it was over. Just because he’d told Yanur that he’d honor his wedding vows and never marry another didn’t mean he loved Angel.
Love?