Snatching the sweet temptation that she found impossible to resist from his hand, she bit into the creamy center and chewed as Marcus peered down the sword, examining it with his fingers. The sugary treat gave her a sugar high and it also created a need to be close to her husband. She lifted her foot to take a step, but he caught her wrist, stopping her as he kneeled in front of her.
“There’s pieces of your mug everywhere. Let me clear it away or you’ll cut your feet.”
Marcus carefully removed the broken china and gathered a dustpan to clear away the rest, and she was reminded of another time in this kitchen. It seemed eons ago now. It was early on in their complicated relationship, when neither trusted the other and yet she couldn’t resist him. As he tidied up around her, looking after her, she wanted him to hold her again and make the issues they faced disappear. Once she imagined him touching her, a feverish passion swept hold. Tingles fluttered low in her belly. She had fought the vampire and adrenaline collided with a heady mix of desire, compelling her forward.
Ella loosened her robe, exposing her nakedness. “I’m sorry about the way I reacted the other day.”
Marcus placed the cleaning utensils under the sink and spun around, running his gaze over her from head to foot. “I…er… I…understand…it wasn’t easy explaining what happened. The guilt…”
Closing the distance between them, until they were only millimeters apart, she pressed her finger over his lips. “I know what happened with the Morrigan wasn’t your fault. And I won’t let her drive a wedge between us. I don’t blame you. You didn’t have a choice.” Reaching for his hand, she watched as the muscle in his cheek twitched and his pupils widened when she guided him to cup her breast. Her heart raced as his thumb brushed over her pert nipple and her stomach clenched as a deep yearning grew.
Closing her eyes and savoring the sensation he created, she wanted him to make love to her. Oh, how much she wanted that, right now. But the Morrigan’s face shot into view and with it, a clear scene of Marcus. Bile reached into her throat, and she shoved him away, retying her robe. The moment of passion was lost. Ella waited until she found her voice as her husband stood there with his hand covering his mouth and his head dipped low.
“I’m sorry…I want to, I do, but…I can’t—not yet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Roman had parked his black Land Rover a block away. He stared up and down the quiet street. Even here in Cambridge, the government had commanded a curfew. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in a brawl. By all rights, he shouldn’t be here, but he needed to see Isabella. Check that she was all right. The last time they had been together, her reckless behavior concerned him, and he had manhandled her more than necessary. He needed to clear the air between them.
Plus, there were issues he needed to address with her, like their relationship. Most pressing was the need to know his witch was safe before he tackled Gabriel, because he couldn’t be certain of his fate following that meeting. Knowing who he could trust these days seemed impossible. He had trusted Lucius, and yet he was hearing whispers that his second-in-command had been the one to insinuate to their leader that he was not in control of his people. That he was blindsided by the witch-turned-vampire.
His vampire.
Part of what Lucius said was the truth. She occupied too damn much of his thoughts. But he had never been more determined to keep his family safe than when Isabella was by his side. She had only strengthened that desire, not weakened it—or him.
Glancing once more, he flew down Russell Street in Cambridge, careful to watch the iridescent shadows, and stared at number twenty-nine, the house that belonged to Isabella. Inspecting the modest two-story Victorian with a front porch that badly needed a fresh coat of paint, he noted how it resembled many of the properties on this tree-lined residential street.
Roman guessed the majority were occupied by families, noting the small park across the street. For the first time, he wondered whether, despite Isabella’s persona, this ordinary existence would satisfy her. How curious for someone who professed not wanting to be a mother to choose to surround herself with them. Staring across the street at the empty swings, he glanced back up the stairs, noting the several ceramic pots with plants growing and flowering from them. Glancing through the windows and checking out the second floor, which lay in darkness, he swung around the back to gain access. Once at the back door, he made short work of the lock, which did little to keep anyone out, and entered the property, wandering through the small but neat kitchen.
Hearing a soft moan, he pulled open the door that led into the main house. Bells jangled from the handle. Ignoring them, he flew upstairs and stopped short of the wrought-iron bed, staring at Isabella, sleeping on her side with her head resting on the palm of her hand. The noise from downstairs had not woken her. He ran his gaze over the sheets that had slipped down, revealing the upper half of her naked torso and he longed to touch his sleeping beauty.
That she should be asleep shocked him.
Vampires slept occasionally, but they didn’t need to. But what rooted him where he stood was something far more fascinating and terrifying. A single, steady heartbeat emanated from her like a beacon. He shook his head as if to dislodge the sound and listened again, drowning out the hum of traffic to focus. Still, the strong galloping rhythm echoed from Isabella. He rested
