If a kiss could communicate that, this kiss would. He would tell her with his lips and his tongue, with every caress, every nuzzle and licking, swirling kiss. He peeled down me thin straps of the nightgown, pulling it down to her waist, and lost himself in the magic landscape of her body, all the secret hollows and hillocks and hidden places.
Her breath fluttered through her, sweet and light, like the sudden flight of surprised birds. He caressed and suckled her until she was just the way he wanted her, flushed and dazed and desperate. He would learn any language she wanted, if she would only give him time, but for now, this was the only language he had. He would be as eloquent in it as he knew how to be.
He touched her between her legs, a love poem of circles and spirals, until she opened up and pressed herself against him in mute pleading, and he slid down beneath her thighs to continue the love poem with his mouth. Her sweet taste was ecstasy, the baby-smooth skin of her thighs clenched and trembling against his face, the folds of her sex drenched and pulsing, crying out in the throes of climax.
She reached down and pulled until he slid back up on top of her. “This is the way I always want you to be before we make love,” he told her, grabbing a condom. “Wide open from coming like crazy. Both sets of lips pink and soft from being licked and kissed.”
Raine clutched his shoulders and pushed her hips against him eagerly as he entered her. She rested her chin against his shoulder, and he felt the exact moment when something deep inside her body and heart and mind let go, giving herself up to him. He followed her, diving into a new world, a shining place beyond all words. They melted, fused. Her pleasure and his were one single rocking, sighing blur of light and heat.
This time, he wasn't alarmed at all when she melted into tears. He finally felt the lightness of it. Like soft rain in the springtime, rustling on the leaves. A fragrant, healing balm. He vibrated with her, cradling her head against his chest and making sure her precious sore nose was turned to the side.
He stroked her hair and the words just rolled out of him. Halting, and breathless, but he didn't choke on them at all. “I love you, Raine.”
She was so startled she stopped crying. When she breathed again, she shuddered and hitched. “I knew that,” she whispered. “But I didn't know that you knew it. And I certainly didn't expect...”
“Expect what?”
“For you to be the first one of us to say it,” she said bashfully.
He waited, squeezing her tightly against him. He could feel the hot wet tears against his chest. She sniffled, her breath hitching. “So?” he said expectantly.
She sniffed, more aggressively. “Hmm?”
“You got something to say to me?” he prompted.
She shoved him over onto his back and rolled on top of him, wiping her face and laughing through her tears. “You want a formal declaration? I love you, Seth Mackey,” she announced. “I always have. From the very start.”
He tightened his arms around her waist, afraid of the hugeness of the joy rushing through him. “Really?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Oh, God, yes.”
He wound himself around her and stared at her, amazed and humbled. Words had deserted him again, but he didn't care. He didn't need them anymore. It was enough for him, just to touch her hair, feel her body fitting against his, to stare into her eyes. Two halves of a perfect whole. The wonder of it made him tremble.
He slid into sleep with the thought that he would do anything to protect this. Anything.
Seth was fast asleep, but Raine was still flying. She was so high, she was terrified to look down now and see how far there was to fall.
Her mind raced. So much information to process. Was it possible that Victor had sent someone to hurt her? It didn't make sense, didn't fit her perceptions and memories of him. Could he have been so affronted by her reproof that he was punishing her? She was sure he hadn't seen her plant the transmitter. She would have felt the change in his energy.
Maybe she just didn't want to believe that her own father—how odd it was to think of Victor that way—could order someone to hurt her. What a sentimental idiot she was. He had ordered someone to murder his own brother, after all. And she felt hurt, of all things. She really was a Lazar, as crazy as they come. Someone sends a hit man after her, and her reaction was hurt feelings.
Seth murmured in his sleep and snuggled closer to her. She nudged his muscular chest until his long, curling black eyelashes fluttered up. She poked again, pitiless. Sleep could come later, after he had fulfilled his promise. “Talk,” she said succinctly.
He groaned and stretched. “What do you want to know?”
Raine sat up cross-legged, and pulled one of the wool blankets up over her shoulders. “Begin at the beginning. And don't make me pry it out of you, please.”
He picked at the satin blanket trimming, staring up at the ceiling. “I had a brother,” he said finally. His voice was hard and flat.
She nodded. “Yes?”
“A half-brother, actually. I pretty much raised him. He was six years younger than me. His name was Jesse.”
She patted his chest and waited for him to go on.
He stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “So Jesse grows up to become a cop, see. Big joke for both of us, considering our upbringing, but Jesse was a romantic. He wanted to save the world. Rescue kittens stuck in trees, babies from burning buildings, that kind of thing. I personally think he watched too much cop TV”
She could already feel what was coming. She braced herself for it. “What happened to Jesse, Seth?” she asked.
He closed his eyes. “He was undercover, investigating your uncle.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered.
“Oh, yeah. Victor got bored with being fabulously successful in the legitimate business world. In the past few years, he's started dabbling in the dangerous stuff again. Mostly stolen weapons and antiquities, I think. But what got Jesse and his partner all excited was one of Victor's clients, Kurt Novak. Another collector of stolen goodies. Novak is a serious bad-ass. Makes Victor look like a pussy cat. More money than God, no conscience whatsoever. His daddy is a big man in the Eastern European mafia. Novak was the real prize they were after. They almost nailed him, but somebody tipped Lazar off. I don't know who... yet. And Jesse was out on the limb when it got sawed off. Novak killed him. Slowly.”
“Oh, Seth,” she whispered. She laid her hand on his chest, but he was too far away to feel her.
“I should have been there to help him,” he said. “I might have been able to change things. But I was too late.”
She wanted to soothe and comfort, but she knew that words would be useless and empty. She pressed her lips together and waited.
Minutes passed. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
“So that’s the story. I've spent months watching Victor. Waiting for him to make contact with Novak. And when he does, I'm bringing those guys down. Lazar, Novak and the traitor. I've been living for that. Just that. I sure as hell didn't plan on... something like you happening to me.”
She settled against his chest, letting her hair drape over him. “So you and I have more in common than I thought.”
He played with a lock of her hair. “I guess so,” he said doubtfully.
She stretched out next to him and propped herself on her elbow. “Tell me about Jesse “ she asked gently.
He looked startled. “Like what?”
“What was he like?”
He looked clouded for a minute, and then he gave a hard little shrug. “He was nuts,” he muttered. “A clown. Incredibly smart. He had these weird green eyes that were kind of too big. Huge feet. Mad scientist hair. When he was too busy to cut it, it just knotted into dreads. And he was a tender-hearted sap. Always in love, always giving away the shirt on his back. He never learned. Never.”
She smiled at the image he was creating. “Go on.”
His eyes grew distant, and he fell silent. She was about to ask what was wrong when he started up again, in
