West of Want (Hearts of the Anemoi) (12 page)

Grinning, she looked down at her list and jotted in all caps:

1) VOLUNTEER WITH THE CBF

God, if Marcus were here right now, she’d totally give him a bear hug. The thought set off a bittersweet pang in her chest. His loss made this possible, but she also knew in her heart he’d love the idea. Man, she hadn’t felt this keyed up about something in, well, a very long time. She blinked the threatening tears away and added more goals to her list.

After a few moments thought, it read:

Ella Gets a Life

1) VOLUNTEER WITH THE CBF

2) Restore the garden

3) Get True Blue repaired

4) Look into adoption and foster care

That last one was a biggie, and by no means an afterthought. Just because she couldn’t conceive didn’t mean she could never give a mother’s love to a child who needed it. She wasn’t ready to do anything about that desire now, but she ought to at least learn her options. Was it even possible for a single person to adopt or be a foster parent? She just didn’t know.

What would someone like Zephyros think of her inability to have children? It was a ridiculous thought and she rolled her eyes at herself, but the question was always on her mind now where men were concerned. Craig had left her over it, so she couldn’t help but fear other men would find it a deal breaker, too.

“Stop it,” Ella said, turning back to the CBF’s website. The feeling of having a mission drove the worries from her mind.

She had a plan now, and it was good.

And the best part of all? No man required.

A thump sounded from upstairs.

Ella startled, craned her ear in the direction of the noise. But there was nothing. Maybe a branch had fallen on the roof?

She leaned forward and inhaled the perfume from the flowers, then pushed off the couch and went upstairs to check things out. The noise sounded like it came from the front of the house, so she started in the office. Through the darkness, she made her way to the desk and pulled the chain on the banker’s lamp. Movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye.

Someone stood on the balcony, their large silhouette darkening nearly the whole door.

She sucked in a rasping gasp and stumbled back against the bookshelves. Her racing heart pounded blood through her ears. She screamed and bolted toward the hall door.

The wind knocked out of her as she crashed into something big and solid and unmoving. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Arms wrapped around her waist.

“Ella. Shh, Ella. It’s just me.”

Shock and relief twined through her veins. Zephyros.

Zephyros was…here. In front of her. When, seconds before, he’d been outside on the balcony. On the far side of a locked door. A door that was still closed and still locked.

Trembling from the surge of adrenaline, she peered up at him. His astonishing good looks struck her anew. Jesus, he was rugged and kind-faced, masculine and tender. In the diffuse light of the hallway, his slate-blue eyes glowed, warming her from the inside.

It was the eyes that brought it all back in a rush. He’d gotten in her locked house before. Healed her with his hands. Seemed to move in ways and at speeds impossible and incomprehensible. Removed a curse—now that she thought about it, she’d not experienced a single instance of clumsiness or bad luck since he’d…done whatever he did.

A thousand questions vied for airtime. She shook her head and shivered—this time because the whole front of her, where their bodies pressed together, was wet through and cold. The state of Zephyros’s appearance finally registered. He was soaked to the bone, like he’d gotten caught in the storm.

“You’re all wet,” Ella managed, realizing how stupid it sounded as the words left her mouth. Undoubtedly, it was the least important observation she could make in the moment, but it was the one with which her mind was most ready to deal.

Zephyros smiled, and his face took on that easier, open expression she remembered from when he slept. It soothed the last of her fright and tugged at a place deep in her chest. He rested his forehead against hers. “I missed you. And I’m sorry.”

Ella breathed him in. He smelled of spring rain and night air. Her nipples tightened where she pressed against him. “Sorry for what?” she breathed, distracted by his encompassing presence.

“For earlier.”

Heat infused her cheeks. “Oh.” She shrugged. “I understand.”

Zeph’s arms gripped her tighter, yanking her fully against him. The rigid line of his erection pressed into her belly. “No, you don’t. You don’t understand how much you intrigue me.” His head dropped so his lips caressed her ear. “You don’t understand how much you attract me. You’re in my head. All the time. You make my heart beat faster, my body ache with want.” He kissed the shell of her ear and moved sinuously against her.

Her body came alive, tightening, opening, preparing. Ella gasped as he nipped and licked down her neck.

Then he growled. “What is this?” He tugged at the fleece collar around her neck.

“What?” she asked, trying and failing to keep up through the haze of lust.

“This…is this a man’s shirt?”

Ella looked down. “Oh, yeah.”

“I cannot abide it.” His mouth dropped open and the dark blue of his eyes flared. “Please,” he rasped.

Ella frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said, but she stepped back enough to pull the fleece over her head. She tossed it to the futon. “It was just my br—”

Zeph’s mouth crushed to hers. His big hands buried in her hair. He pursued her, devoured her. His passion overwhelmed and overpowered. She stumbled back a half step here and there, until her shoulders hit the hallway wall.

Male spice filled her nose and tantalized her taste buds. Jesus, she couldn’t get enough of him. She met him kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke. She sucked his tongue until he groaned deep in his throat, and then she did it again.

He grabbed her hands in one of his and braced them over her head, against the wall. He pulled away from the kiss, but kept their faces pressed together. They were both panting, chests heaving, their clothing wet everywhere they touched. He stroked her face, her neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I…” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “I couldn’t stand seeing another man’s belongings on you.”

Ella’s panties dampened at the possessiveness of his words, of their position. “It was my brother’s,” she whispered. “Just my brother’s. No other man.” She sought and found his lips. “Promise.”

He groaned. “Thank the gods.” Slanting his mouth against hers, he kissed her until she was dizzy and languid. Until his body was all that held her upright. Until she was half convinced she could live without oxygen.

But part of her brain demanded to voice its concern. She tugged her face to the side and looked up at him. “Can you say the same? Is there a woman in your life? Because I won’t share.” Given her recent experience, she didn’t think it so unreasonable to clear up that basic expectation at the beginning.

Zeph cocked an eyebrow and licked his bottom lip. “No. There’s no one else. Not for a long, long time.”

“Good,” Ella whispered. “Good.”

“There’s just me.” He kissed her ear. “And you.” Her eyelid. “In this moment.” Her nose. “There’s just this lost soul.” His lips lingered over the corner of her mouth. “Who wants the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.” He plunged in with his tongue for a short, searing kiss. “I want you, Ella,” he breathed into her mouth.

The world narrowed to the space between them. Zephyros was all Ella could see, all she could smell, all she could feel. Her body responded to his words as if on command, and she could barely stand still against the urgent need to pull him down to the floor and straddle him.

Another part of her worried about the all-in approach. This man…he was different. And…maybe not just a man? God, with all his male flesh pressing against her, that sounded ridiculous, but a weighty pile of evidence was accumulating she’d so far managed to compartmentalize and ignore. Could she really give her body to someone about whom she had so many questions?

Not to mention her more run-of-the-mill concerns regarding whether she should trust him not to hurt her. Whether she
could
trust him, given her recent experience. Her heart was the new poster-girl for gun-shy. She’d come by that shit honestly.

But it doesn’t have to be about that
, her body chimed in, ready, willing.

“Too fast?” he whispered against her lips.

His words tugged her out of her head. She met his concerned gaze. He released her hands and stroked her cheek with his knuckles.

“No.” She shook her head. “Maybe. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His brow furrowed and he stepped back, her body chilling at the loss of his masculine heat. “Hell. I just came storming in here. I should just…” He shook his head and turned.

“What are you?” she blurted. The words hung in the air, awkward and demanding, but she was glad she asked. She needed to know. Before anything else happened, she had to understand what made today’s long list of impossibilities possible.

…

Zeph froze with his back to her. He turned his head to the side, considering her in a sideways glance.
Damn it
. He hated the likelihood that this was the beginning of the end.

By why shouldn’t it be more bad news? First Eurus’s bombshell, then Aeolus’s refusal to grant him an audience. Par for the course.

Cautious footsteps sounded behind him, and every step she came closer eased the ache his plans to leave had unleashed. She stopped short of touching him, but her heat and her aura warmed his back, tugged at his heart, blanketed him in calm. “I need to know, Zephyros. I can’t not know the truth.”

Gods, he understood that. He really did.

A light weight fell on his arm. She squeezed, her touch connecting them as it always did. “You can trust me,” she whispered.

It was like she knew what he needed to hear.

Trust. Honesty. Such rare qualities. So few prized them. Having been denied them over and over again, though, they were like air to Zephyros. Just one relationship he knew he could trust. Just one person he could count on to be honest. He needed that from her. He wanted it.

And he wanted to give it in return.

He turned slowly. “I shouldn’t tell you. I shouldn’t even be here.”

Hurt flashed across her eyes.

He grasped her chin in his fingers and lifted it to meet his gaze. “But I will, Ella. I fear it, but I will.”

“You have nothing to fear from me, I promise.” She tilted her face into the palm of his hand.

She was so wrong, though. The way she soothed and attracted his body and appealed to his heart—she could be the most dangerous person Zeph knew. To him, anyway. He released a deep breath and took a leap of faith—and damn how he hoped she leapt with him.

He nodded once. “I understand how this will sound. But what I’m going to tell you is the truth. And I’ll prove it if I must.”

“Okay.”

“Er, would you like to sit down, or something?”

“No. Just tell me.”

He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. “I am Zephyros Martius, Supreme God of the West Wind, Guardian of Spring, and one of the four Cardinal Anemoi.”

Ella blinked. She opened and closed her mouth. Then her dark eyes went wide. “A god? An Anemoi?” She slapped her hand to her forehead and rubbed.

Zeph watched her, wary, waiting. His gut twisted and tensed.

“The freaking Internet was right. Holy shit, Wikipedia was right.” She started pacing the short length of hall between where he blocked the stairs and the office door. “A god. A
god
. I can’t believe it. Well”—she chuckled, a slightly hysterical sound—“I
can
believe it. I mean, come on, light comes out of your hands, and you healed me, and you poofed in here.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Poofed? I don’t
poof
.”

She stopped, as if just noticing him again. “Well, what do you call it?”

“Uh…materializing? I guess. I don’t really call it anything.”

“You just do it.”

“I just do it.”

She tucked golden brown strands behind her ears and closed her eyes. In the darkness, her shifting expressions were clear. He could see her thoughts playing out on her face, not that he knew what they were. And it was driving him crazy.

Curious brown eyes peered up at him. “So, then, the creepy guy, from before?”

“Eurus. The Supreme God of the East Wind and the Harbinger of Misfortune. My younger, estranged brother.”
Yeah, that was prettying it up a bit
.

Ella sagged back against the wall. Slid down to her butt. “A god.” She craned her neck to look up at him. “For real? Oh, never mind. I believe you, I do. But, Jesus, it’s hard to wrap your brain around.”

Her expression of trust made the distance between them, small though it was, feel far too great. He settled down on the floor next to her. It was a tight fit, his boots resting against the far wall, but he needed to be near her. “Thank you.”

She shook her head. “Well, what are you doing here? Not
here
”—she rushed to add—“but on earth, down with us mortal types. Do you like…I mean…where do you live?”

He wanted to share himself, yearned for her to truly know him, but he couldn’t help fearing that every revelation would be one revelation too far. “I come from the Realm of the Gods, but I spend much time on earth, just not usually in this form.”