Assassin Deception (11 page)

“Something is missing,” Chloe declared. All talk ceased abruptly. Her head cocked to the side as though pondering in deep thought.

“Everyone is here,” James said, sounding confused.

“Not a person, James, a smell,” Chloe said, searching for the memory. Her face was alight suddenly at her recollection. “No candles are lit, James!”

The room remained quiet for a moment longer. Awkward, uncomfortable silence ensued as people shifted in their seats. A throat cleared.

“It was my idea, Chloe. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t take the chance of you injuring yourself by accident on the flames, if the hot wax spilled…”Dirk replied, trailing off.

Chloe could hear his concern, concern for her well-being and her emotions at his revelation. She felt a deep sadness, her thoughts in turmoil. She knew each of the candles were lit every dinner in remembrance of a departed loved one, so that their spirits could dine with them, welcomed and in harmony together.

Most recently one had been added for her own mother. One always glowed for Samantha, the brightest one it seemed, the scented vanilla one that had to be replaced often as it burned down the fastest. James had always declared with pride her presence was the strongest, burning hardest, her love for them the deepest with her need to have them feel her.

James would forgo dining with his beloved wife’s spirit for Chloe’s safety. She also knew Wolf and Tyr would light a candle for a young sister who died in childhood so tragically long ago. Each person at the table had a special candle to light. Because of their love for her they would sacrifice this one honored tradition.

It was too much. The sacrifice was too great. Chloe sobbed, once more giving in to tears that always seemed to threaten. Her hands dropped to her lap. She felt ashamed. She was the cause of them forgoing the time-honored tradition. Damien pulled her to himself, settling her onto his knee.

“It’s all right, Chloe,” Damien soothed. His hand stroked her hair down her back. He placed comforting kisses on her brow.

“No, it’s not,” she replied, weeping. “Just because I can’t see the candles doesn’t mean I miss them any less. You remind me every day how welcome I am. Please, James, light the candles. I like feeling Samantha is with us and around us too. She always treated me as though I were her own. I know she would understand you wanting to keep me safe, and yet I can’t help but feel she would like to make certain I am herself.”

After a subdued discussion between James and Dirk a shuffle of activity occurred in a compromise. Before long Chloe could smell the familiar scent of the candles wafting towards her. Their warmth drifted over her. Her association with the smell gave her courage.

She felt comforted. She was determined to deal with this new chain of events. Sighted or not, all family customs were important. That the candles now burned on the buffet table and not directly on the dining room table didn’t matter. Now it felt everyone was finally together.

“Thank you, James, Dirk,” Chloe said. Damien settled her back onto her own seat, a light kiss to the top of her head. Once more he placed her fork into her hand after encouraging her to drink some wine.

“We all need to adjust, Chloe,” Dirk said. “Your loss and sorrow are our own. As you make mistakes so might we. We’ll all just have to practice a great deal of forgiveness while we learn.”

“It wasn’t a mistake, Dirk. It was a sacrifice of love. How about I promise to try not to trip over any of you, or spill on you, and you can all promise to keep things as normal as possible…and for God’s sake don’t anyone rearrange the furniture!” Chloe cried, still snuffling, but trying to lighten the mood.

“I guess you better cancel that new decorator, Dad,” Damien deadpanned.

“You are so lucky I can’t hit you anymore!” Chloe screeched.

“Well I can,” Carrie declared, and Chloe heard a loud whack to her left. Damien groaned, then chuckled.

“Dad, they’re ganging up on me again,” Damien whined, now laughing. The others joined in.

“Well, it looks as though things will be back to normal soon after all,” James said, and sighed heavily. Dinner resumed.

* * * *

“Thank you, Salvator,” Chloe said. She was lying in her bed and it dipped as he sat beside her.

“How did you know it was me?” Damien asked, surprised. He had left as she changed and had not announced himself as he had entered her room silently once more.

Chloe smiled. “When certain people sit beside me the bed dips differently,” she explained.

“Oh great! So now you’re saying you can identify me because my ass is big?” Damien howled, outraged.

“No, no,” Chloe laughed. He pinned her with his hands on either side of her. “All I meant was, your father doesn’t sit as close to me as you do, his is more of a tentative perch. Dirk doesn’t quite flop himself onto the bed like he owns me, the way you do.”

“He better not!”

“Be serious,” Chloe said, still chuckling.

“I am,” Damien declared.

“No really, Salvator, thank you for taking me downstairs. I’m not afraid anymore. You were right.”

“Quick! Where’s my tape recorder?”

“All right, go ahead and gloat. You deserve it—this time. I should have known you would take care of me. For so long it’s been Dirk and James who took care of everything. When we were kids and I was hurt or afraid you always took me to one of them.”

“That’s because I was so young and unsure myself. I’m not a little boy anymore, sweetheart. I haven’t been for a long time. I promised I would take care of you and I meant it.”

“No commitments, please. I would be so hurt, Damien. I know you love me. I love you. But it’s different now.”

“Why? Because you’re blind?”

“I’m a burden.”

“You weren’t a burden when I saved my food for you because you were always hungry. You weren’t a burden when you cried yourself to sleep in my room, keeping me awake and wondering how to console you. You weren’t a burden those many times we shared secrets about what my family did and still do.

“What makes a burden, Chloe? Someone who is dependent on another? Everyone depends on someone for something. Whether it’s sight, hearing, walking, or love. Emotional support when you lose your job, a shoulder to cry on. When you have a bad day. It’s not called a burden, it’s called commitment, caring, love. A child is completely dependent on their parents at birth and for years after. Are they considered a burden?”

“A child will eventually leave home, someone will eventually get another job; your theory is flawed,” Chloe complained.

“Apparently you haven’t heard the latest statistics on children leaving home. It seems they now seem to stay forever! Look at Dirk and myself. I’m not going anywhere any time soon. I rest my case.”

“Be serious!”

“I am. Has your personality changed? No. Have your looks changed? No. Has your sweetness and caring changed? No. One thing has changed. One day your looks will change when you get older, as everyone does. You are still and will still be the same person inside. What if you get fat, does that make a difference? I’m not that shallow. Please tell me you know that or I will hurt so bad inside,” Damien said raggedly.

“I’m so sorry,” Chloe wept, reaching for him.

Damien pulled her into his embrace. He gripped her chin, taking her lips to his own. The kiss was long, though undemanding, tenderly exquisite. His tongue teased out to taste her full, rosy lips. He trailed his mouth over her cheeks, gliding them down her throat with the sweetness of a butterfly’s velvety touch.

Chloe pulled him more securely to herself. She relaxed against him as he sought to undue her soft, sleeveless shirt. After stroking his knuckles across her chest, he caressed first one breast, then another, feeling their weight, how they settled so unbelievably perfectly within his hands.

Chloe moaned as one taut nipple disappeared into his mouth while he drew her in, savoring her taste, drawing her deeper, deeper until she gasped. He took his time suckling harder, gaining in intensity, his teeth teasing and grazing the nipple.

He moved his mouth only to discover her other high peek when he had thoroughly tasted and satisfied himself on the first. He trailed his hand sensuously down her hips, lowering her panties, slipping them past her sleek hips.

The other hand supported his weight, keeping himself from pinning and overpowering her. She settled back against the satin pillows with a sigh, allowing Damien full access to her body.

Their heat increased, yet Damien controlled where they were going. He realized now why she had stopped him those many nights ago. He had moved too quickly, too soon. It wouldn’t have been perfect for her. She deserved to be loved by him, and love her he would.

“You haven’t been here all that long, Chloe. It’s been three years since I’ve seen you, and yet I feel as though we never parted. I always feel your presence surrounding me wherever I go. We can go slowly. We’ve been so close forever. I’m still wondering what I feel. We both need time. Let’s give it time, sweetheart.”

Damien slid a gentle hand over the bruising at her ribs. She lay now completely exposed before him, vulnerable. His fingers stroked to touch every discoloration caused by the bomb. There were many.

Though her eyes were devoid of sight, Damien could see into them. He could see past the darkness to the desire. Her mouth remained slightly open, drawing in the tiny panting gasps he loved to hear, knowing she wanted him. Her breath dancing towards his own. She dropped her hands to her sides, waiting for more of his body to encompass her, while her fingers flexed.

“I love you, Chloe. Now more than ever it’s important I wait for you. Heal, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. I promise, babe.”

“Please, will you lie down beside me for a while? Like when we were kids and I had a bad dream. I feel so much safer with you,” Chloe begged.

Damien complied with her request. After readjusting her clothing to cover her, he snuggled under the covers and gathered her closer. He rested his lips next to her ear. “You are safe with me…Salvare,” he whispered. His lips tugged onto her earlobe, sucking. He settled his large hand under her shirt possessively, onto a bare warm breast. He molded his body to her own, then settled, not wanting to jostle her, ever fearful of her hurts.

Chloe nestled against him. He knew his warmth would lull her into a restful slumber.

Chapter Six

“I have something for you,” Damien declared as he walked into the study.

Chloe had been contentedly rocking in James’ easy chair. Dirk had carried her downstairs earlier and had placed her in the chair at her insistence.

She had always loved the solitude of James’ study. She had often sat rocking while watching James worked at his desk in the past, just enjoying his company. His presence was comforting.

She could make out the sounds of his flowing, meticulous penmanship as his hand glided across the paper before him in long, easy strokes. The tiny chinking clatter of the ice in his glass as he took a quick distracted sip of his drink—whiskey, undeniably—from the smell.

Lifting her face, she could feel the sun shining in the bay window, settling onto her cheeks. Her other senses were sharpening to accommodate her loss of one. She had learned to maneuver around her room with ease and grace. Chloe smiled, realizing she could smell the warmth of the sun. The scent traveled to her lungs, filling her as Damien’s breath did. It was a pleasant feeling.

“Damien, I need to leave for a little while. Make certain Chloe is taken care of until I get back,” James said.

Chloe heard the soft shuffling of papers. She envisioned his face in a set way, knowing he was in deep thought by the tone of his voice. She felt a gentle kiss to her cheek and a hurried goodbye as James left.