djinn wars 04 - broken (35 page)

Dani seemed to realize he had made a misstep, for he said quickly, “Lilias and Aidan came to visit a while ago. She seemed to want to reassure herself that all is well in these human/djinn pairings.”

Julia brightened a little at his comment. “Oh, that’s right — they’re expecting too, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Their baby should be here sometime in the late spring, I believe.”

The conversation drifted to lighter matters then — how Miguel, their medic, would cope if it turned out they had a real baby boom on their hands, and whether the winter would be a mild one, and if they were going to continue with their small tradition of communal feasts for Thanksgiving and Christmas as they had the year before, in order to let their Chosen feel not quite so abandoned in a strange new world.

Eventually, though, it became clear that Zahrias and Julia should leave Dani and Lauren and the baby so they could be alone. It was something of a walk from the new family’s house to the home Zahrias had taken for his own, but he struck out on foot anyway, rather than instantly transporting himself and Julia there the way he’d first thought he might.

Julia was quiet, but he could tell she was enjoying the walk; she had her chin lifted so she might feel the mild afternoon breeze on her face. The wind caught at her long hair, blowing it around her like a rippling curtain of gold. How he loved her hair. The only thing that would make it more beautiful would be to see it spread out on a pillow next to him.

But he pushed that thought away, for he could feel his body begin to respond to the mental image, and he knew he and Julia must talk about all manner of serious subjects. Physical pleasure would have to wait…although not too long, he hoped.

He opened the front door of the house for her, and she went inside. Again, he could have done so by using his powers, but he was trying to put her as much at ease as possible. He knew she was still trying to come to terms with what had happened to her, what her life would be from now on.

“Should we go into the living room?” he asked, then wondered if perhaps he should have suggested another place for them to have their discussion. After all, the last conversation they had shared in that room had not turned out well.

Luckily, he saw no hesitation in Julia’s manner as she told him yes, so he led her to that chamber, then asked if she would like some refreshment.

“That’s probably a good idea,” she said. “I’m trying to remember the last thing I ate and failing miserably.”

“Then let me remedy that,” he replied, and headed into the kitchen. This was one time when he would summon his djinn powers to do the heavy lifting; all the raw materials were there, but why waste precious time assembling the components when a snap of his fingers could provide them with everything they needed?

A brief look of astonishment crossed Julia’s features as she watched him reenter the living room, carrying a tray laden with an assortment of meats and cheeses and fruit, as well as an open bottle of wine and a pair of glasses. He set the tray down on the low table in front of the sofa, then poured some of the wine for her.

“Those are some handy talents of yours,” she remarked. “All that probably would have kept me busy in the kitchen for at least a half hour.”

“Time which would have been better spent on other things.”

“Such as?” Her tone was almost teasing.

“This talk we need to have.”

A slight nod, but she didn’t reply right away, instead lifting the glass to her lips so she could take a sip. Zahrias tried not to stare. That mouth of hers was far too distracting. After a long pause, she said, “So talk to me, Zahrias.”

He raised his own glass of wine but didn’t drink. The dark liquid caught sparks of ruby from the lowering sun that came through the living room’s windows. “I know we did not have a chance to discuss everything that should be discussed. I know this must be difficult for you, since it feels as if you weren’t given a choice.”

“I wasn’t given a choice,” she said distinctly before reaching over with her free hand so she could pick up a slice of pale golden cheese. “Not that I blame you for that,” she added quickly as he opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t regret what you did. But your actions still will have ramifications for a lot more people than just you and me.”

“I understand.” Zahrias plucked a grape from the bunch that lay on the tray and set it in his mouth, savoring the sweetness of the fruit, a good contrast to the darkness of the wine he had chosen. “This man you left in charge in Los Alamos. He is a good man?”

“Shawn?” She was silent for a moment, appearing to carefully consider her reply. There was something almost hesitant in her manner, although Zahrias couldn’t think why. “He’s a very good man. A firefighter…before.” A rueful smile touched her lips. “So probably not someone who would be best buddies with a fire elemental.”

“My kind do not start fires,” Zahrias said stiffly. “We control them.”

“Right. Sorry…I didn’t mean to offend you. Anyway, yes, Shawn is a good person. I could trust him to keep things running for a few days while I was gone. But for the long term?” She lifted her shoulders, then bent to pick up a piece of smoked sausage and pop it in her mouth. After she had consumed it, she went on, “I honestly don’t know. It’s not as if he’s had any training — ” Breaking off, she chuckled, although there was something humorless about the sound. “Listen to me. Like I had any training when it came to running a town. I was sort of forced into it, too.”

“By me.” In that moment, Zahrias regretted more than ever the remark that had sent Julia back to Los Alamos to be its steward.

To his relief, she laid a hand on his knee. “It’s not as if you twisted my arm, Zahrias. Right then, I was willing enough to be a martyr.”

Not sure that he understood the remark, he raised an eyebrow.

“I knew I — I knew I was attracted to you. I could have come up with a way to stay around if I’d really wanted to. I know Jessica thought I was crazy for going back to Los Alamos. But I was frightened.”

“Of what?” he asked softly, although he thought he knew the answer.

“Of being rejected,” she replied. “Or, even worse,
not
being rejected.”

On the surface, her response sounded contradictory. But Zahrias thought he knew what she meant. It was a frightening thing, to open yourself to another, and to find them opening themselves to you. Julia had built a shell around herself. He’d recognized that quality in her, for he had constructed a shell of his own, many centuries before she was even born.

“And what do you think now?”

Her eyes met his, wide and clear, the elusive blue-gray of a misty sea. “I think I’m done with being afraid.”

The only thing he could do then was take the wine glass from her fingers and set it down on the table, then pull her to him. She tasted of that fruit, dark and heady, and yet there was more, her own flavor, one he savored as their tongues met. He was a being of fire, and yet she somehow managed to ignite an even brighter flame in him, one he knew could only be quenched by burying himself in her.

She was shaking when they drew apart. Concerned, he laid a hand against her cheek. The smooth flesh felt cool to his touch, but he knew that was only because she was human, and did not burn with the same fire as he.

“Are you well, my love?” he asked.

A nod. Her full mouth looked almost bruised by their kiss, rosy and swollen. “I — I think so. I was trying to tell myself that it was all right to take this slowly, but….” She let the words trail off, and then she smiled, a slow curving of her lips that only served to further fan the flames of his desire. “I know there are other things we still need to discuss. I’m just not sure I can concentrate on them with you looking at me like that.”

He needed no further urging. His arms went around her once again, only this time to lift her from the sofa. She felt light as a feather to him, despite her delicious curves. The bedchamber he had claimed as his own was down a fairly short hallway, but it felt miles off, so eager he was to take her there. But he forced himself to do this the human way, carrying her in his arms so he might lay her down on the bed. And, like a human, he stopped to tug off her boots and socks, to let her shrug out of her jacket. She was still fully dressed, but there was still something infinitely seductive about the way she lay there in her close-fitting white top, her pretty bare feet showing beneath the hems of the jeans she wore.

His own clothing was less of an impediment; he cast off the long, loose robe he had on, but did not remove the pants. Not yet. He wanted to see more of Julia first.

She did not protest as his fingers pulled her shirt free from the waistband of her pants and lifted it over her head. How beautiful the swell of her breasts, cupped by the lacy bra she wore. The women of his people did not wear such things, and yet he found the sight strangely arousing, the way the flimsy fabric hinted at the beauties of the flesh underneath.

When he unbuckled her belt and pulled down her jeans, he saw that the undergarment she wore was of the same nude-colored lace. His breathing quickened, and he paused with his hands on her hips, feeling the rich curves of her body beneath his fingertips.

“You are so very lovely,” he whispered.

She gazed up at him, eyes fixed on his. “I want to be beautiful for you, Zahrias.”

“You are.”

That was all he could manage, for he knew he needed much more than talk now. He lay beside her and pulled her body against his, while his fingers found the clasp at the back of her bra and worked it free. Then there was nothing separating them, the rich fullness of her breasts pressed to his flesh, causing him to gasp at the wondrous sensation.

Julia wanted more, it seemed, for her hands worked their way down to the drawstring of his pants, pulling it loose, then pushing the fabric out of the way. A small gasp of her own left her lips as she found him and took him between her fingers.

He let out a sound that was half sigh, half moan. Truly, he had not thought she would be quite so forward. But there she was, stroking him, waves of sensation seeming to flow up and down his shaft as she touched him. And more, because she shifted, and then her mouth was on him, and he groaned aloud, hoping he would not spend then and there at the touch of her lips and tongue on the sensitive flesh. No, he would hold on, even though he had dreamed of this moment, dreamed of what it might be like. But no dream could ever hope to compete with the reality of her.

And he knew he wanted all of her. Now.

He pulled away from her mouth, and a flicker of surprise passed over her face. That surprise turned to outright astonishment as he pushed her down on her back and trailed kisses down her stomach, moving lower….

Her voice was strained. “Zahrias, you don’t — ”

Ah, but he did. He needed to taste her, to bring her pleasure the way she had pleasured him. And after the first several strokes of his tongue, her rich flavor filling his mouth, she abandoned all protest and allowed him to make love to her with his lips and tongue, to breathe in her scent and revel in the way her fingers knotted in his hair, keeping him in position, although of course he had no intention of stopping.

Her climax seemed to roll through her like a breaker falling on a sandy beach. She shuddered on and on, breathing labored. Perhaps it had been a very long while for her. It had been for him.

While she still lay there, breaths coming in short gasps, he moved up to her, his mouth closing on her breast so he could feel the taut warmth of her nipple against his skin. She moaned again, and he began to press into her. At once she went quiet, and he paused.

“My love — do you wish me to stop? If it is too soon — ”

“Oh, God no,” she responded, halfway between a gasp and a chuckle. “If you stopped now, I think I would die. Please — keep going. I want you there. Please.”

He needed no more urging than that. Eyes fixed on her beautiful face, he push in further, feeling her open to him, warm and welcoming and so much more than he could have ever hoped for. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him in further, and they began to rock together, bodies finding their own rhythm, every breath, every sigh telling him that she was the only woman who would ever be right for him, who could find the broken pieces of his soul and quietly mend them.

Julia, his love, his one.

His Chosen.

She lay there for a long while afterward, saying nothing, only gazing into the depthless darkness of her lover’s eyes, memorizing every plane of his face, every angle, the long aristocratic nose and the finely sculpted curves of his lips and the sooty sweep of his lashes.

At last she said softly, “I love you.”

Did he know how much it had taken for her to tell him that? Because she’d told Ian she loved him — but had she, really? — and it hadn’t mattered. Her love had only been a weapon she’d willingly handed over to him.

But Zahrias was no Ian. She knew that, and yet —

“I love you,” Zahrias said. The words were hardly more than a whisper, but they were enough. The truth of his feelings seemed to echo in every syllable. “You are the one I have waited an eternity for, Julia Innes. And I can rejoice in knowing that I will spend the rest of eternity with you.”

She reached out for him then, and his arms went around her, drawing their bodies close once more. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Zahrias to pull her up on top of him so she could feel him buried deep within her once again, filling her, completing her.

That should have sounded so silly, and yet she knew it was only the truth, that her entire life something had been missing, an aching space deep within her soul that she’d never wanted to acknowledge. Being with him now, she knew exactly what she’d lacked. Zahrias al-Harith, a man of a strange and terrible alien race, and the only one who could ever have made her feel this way.

She cried out as the orgasm pulsed through her. In the past she’d always tried to be quiet, hadn’t wanted to give this much of herself away, but now that didn’t matter. She wanted Zahrias to know what he’d done to her, to know that no one else could make her scream like a banshee.