“Yes,” he said, his voice warm with praise as he finally let up and folded his arms around her.
How could she feel like this without shedding a piece of clothing?
“Fuck, Cle.” He raked his teeth down her neck and bit down softly on the hickey he’d left.
She was panting, deliciously satisfied and dissatisfied simultaneously, feeling sated but empty.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t even take off your clothes. Imagine what I’d do to you when you’re naked.”
A shiver ran over her as she imagined exactly that.
Lifting up on his arms, he cupped her face. The silver of his eyes swirled with emotions—guilt, need, and conflict. Regret.
“Don’t you dare,” she said, the heat vanishing from her body and leaving her skin cold.
He rolled away from her and sat up with his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlaced behind his head. “I shouldn’t have taken it that far.”
She blinked at his back. He was right. Then why did the rejection feel like a shard of glass in her heart?
He dragged his hands over his head. “I need to catch this pyromancist.” Glancing sideways at her, he asked, “Do you understand?”
They were enemies. They could never be anything else.
“There’s no future for us,” she said, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees.
His expression became pained. It was the same tormented look he wore so well when he was younger. “It’ll be so easy to break you.”
Was that what he thought, how he saw her? Weak? She pushed off the bed. “Go to hell.” Pointing at the door, she said, “Get out.”
He got to his feet. “I’m already in hell.”
She watched his back as he moved to the door, her whole body shaking. She wanted to both call him back and kick him out. Her heart wanted to beg him to stay while her mind said it was better this way. When he opened the door, she almost faltered.
“Maybe Cain was right,” he said, pausing in the frame with his back to her. “You best call Maya if you need anything.” He left and shut the door with a bang.
“I do need something,” Clelia whispered to the closed door, “but I can’t have it.” Neither her freedom, nor his love.
Chapter 15
For all of ten seconds, Clelia stood frozen on the spot, staring at the door through which Joss had vanished. When a knock fell, she couldn’t help the pang of joy or the irrational hope that surfaced through logical reason and wrongs.
Yanking the door open, she said, “Joss, I—” and then swallowed the rest of her words.
Maya stood on the threshold. “I saw Joss leave in a bit of a rage. Is everything all right?”
Her grip tightened on the door handle. “What do you care?”
“Listen, I’m trying.”
“Trying what?”
“Never mind. Cain wants to see you.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Let’s go.” Maya turned and made her way to the stairs.
Knowing it was futile to resist, Clelia followed Maya to the upper deck. Bono leaned on the rail, staring at the islands they passed. As they rounded the starboard, Clelia’s foot hooked in a coil of rope. She stumbled.
Just as Bono jumped forward, grabbing her arms to steady her, Joss manifested as if from thin air, all but growling as he took in the scene.
Bono smiled, the gesture warm and genuine. “Careful. The deck is slippery.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Joss took a wide stance. “Get your hands off her.”
His voice laced with surprise, Bono said, “What’s that, Joss?”
“I said, get your fucking hands off her.”
Clelia gaped at Joss. He acted as if Bono was going to attack her.
Bono lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was only helping.”
“She doesn’t need your help.”
Maya grinned. “I’d love to watch you two puppies fight over a bone, but Cain is waiting.”
Joss grudgingly stepped aside. “Watch it, Bono. Keep your hands to yourself.”
When the women walked past, Bono asked Maya under his breath, “What the hell?”
Maya chuckled. “Joss is territorial.”
Bono dragged a hand over his head. “You don’t say.”
Clelia peered over her shoulder at Joss, but he didn’t look at her as Maya escorted her into the lounge. Joss was complex, but his behavior was ludicrous. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend.
Cain stood up from the sofa when they entered. He offered Clelia a chair, but when she declined, he remained standing.
He waited until Maya had gone before he asked, “Has Joss been treating you well?”
“Yes.”
Cain’s gaze slipped to her neck. “You have no complaints about being his prisoner?”
She fought the urge to cover the marks with a hand. “I’m your prisoner, not his.”
“Ah,” he said with a pensive air. “I suppose it depends on how you look at it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think you’ve been Joss’s prisoner for a very long time. Am I right?”
The blood dropped to her feet under his watchful eyes.
“I see I am,” he said. “You must’ve sensed this return. Did it come to you in the form of a dream? A vision? A sensation maybe?”
Shocked that he could know, she didn’t answer.
“You have reason to mistrust me. The question is, do you trust Joss?”
“Do I trust him to do what?”
“What’s right.”
“What is that?”
“There’s only one right and one wrong in the world. I don’t deal in shades of gray.”
“You’re talking in circles.”
“Joss took an oath when he was appointed as leader of this task force. He promised to protect the force and the good it stands for. Joss is a tormented soul. You mean more to him than what he gives on, but if you are going to turn dark, it will force Joss to make an impossible choice.”
She rubbed her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Remember my words when the time comes. When there’s no way out, set Joss free. If you love him, you won’t make him choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Between you and what he protects.”
“Between me and