Her Dark Knight (16 page)

Her breathing changed and her eyes flew open. “Chris—”

“Let it go, my love.”

“I can’t…” She was panting, holding herself back. He applied more pressure. “I want you inside me.”

He smiled, not letting up even though her head was whipping back and forth. What sort of lovers had she had in the past who only gave her one orgasm? The thought of other lovers had the warrior in him rising, the jealousy all-consuming until he shoved it away. It mattered not who came before him, only that he was her last and only lover from now until God took her from him again.

She cried out and he pushed his finger up inside her, feeling the first contractions of her passageway. She bore down, a keening cry ripped from inside her and the contractions gave way to fierce spasms. Her knees locked and her toes curled and still she kept crying out, the spasms coming faster and harder. He continued to apply more pressure, forcing her toward another completion.

Her eyes shot open, unfocused, amazed. ’Twas obvious she had never found completion twice in a row. He was glad he was the first to give her that at least.

He kept it up, pulling back when she was on the brink of another then letting it build again until his fingers cramped, and still he would not relent. He was mesmerized, enthralled, spellbound watching her. His member was heavy and aching, the pressure nearly unbearable, the need to be inside her driving him wild.

When he was on the very edge of his control, he withdrew his fingers, unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper. He shoved his pants down, boxers and all and entered her. She was so wet he slid right in with nary a problem. Her wetness dripped out of her, coating his bollocks. He paused and hung his head, willing her not to move. One more thrust and he would lose it and that was the last thing he wanted. The first time he made love to her, he wanted it to last.

He groaned.
Mon Dieu,
she was everything he had ever wished for. He grazed her neck with his teeth, tasting the sweetness of her skin and the saltiness of her sweat.

She touched his cheek and he opened his eyes to see her looking up at him, love shining from the amber depths. He’d pushed her hard. Sweat gleamed on her brow, her skin flushed a rosy hue and her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. She was glorious. More than he’d ever hoped for. A miracle.

Her smile was mischievous as she contracted her inner muscles, squeezing him.

“Minx,” he growled.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t want this to end.”

Her expression softened. Her fingers feathered across his face. “There will be many more times. I promise.”

He blinked against the sudden pressure behind his eyes, still afraid she’d be taken from him as swiftly as she’d arrived.

She rose up and kissed him, breaking the dam of his resistance.

His hips pistoned against hers, his movements almost frenzied. Miraculously she came undone again. She threw her head back. A keening cry ripped from her and she met each of his thrusts with her own, burying him deeper into her than he ever thought he could go.

Suddenly her muscles clamped down and his seed shot out of him. He yelled and arched his back.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, riding her waves of pleasure and he was hopeless, trapped. His seed surged out of him, shooting deep inside her and he could do nothing but hold her, riding it out.

Breathing hard, Christien rolled off Madelaine and gathered her to his side. His pride noted she was just as breathless as he was.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Hardly.”

When he didn’t respond, she turned her head to look at him. “I’m fine, Christien. No aches and pains. Well—” she grinned, “—maybe the usual aches and pains, but those I’ll gladly suffer.”

He pulled her in closer to kiss the top of her head. It felt good to laugh, to forget for a few hours the crushing responsibility and the fear of the future.

Dark thoughts hovered around him. He tried to push them away but they were insistent. Even if he could keep her safe, she still wasn’t his forever. He was immortal. She was not. Sooner or later she would be taken from him again.

His muscles tensed, his mind rebelling at the thought, but he couldn’t deny it. Some day she would die and he would once again grieve for her. He would survive his grief because he had no choice. His vow to the treasure rose above all else. Even Madelaine. But he would take what he was able, treasure it for always and tuck the memories away for a time when she wasn’t with him.

“Christien?”

“Yes, my love.”

“You’re squeezing me.”

He relaxed his hold. “I have something for you.”

“You do?” She sounded like a little girl on Christmas morning and it made him smile. He would give her presents all the time to hear the excitement in her voice.

He rolled to the side and snatched her necklace off the nightstand.

“My necklace.”

He’d had it since the nurse gave it to him and was surprised she hadn’t asked for it. He’d taken the opportunity to research its background and have it appraised. He shifted uncomfortably, not willing to think right now about what he’d learned.

She lifted her head and he fastened it around her neck. The key fell to the hollow of her throat, the dim lighting catching the diamonds’ heat.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “Where did you get it?”

She touched it almost reflexively. “My mother gave it to me.” A note of sadness crept into her voice. Through his research of her family he’d learned her mother died from ovarian cancer when Madelaine was fifteen. Too young to have lost a mother.

“She said it’s been in the family for generations and I was to pass it on to my daughter.”

“It makes a wonderful heirloom.” And expensive. Very expensive. Her parents came from hardworking people who farmed the land and kept to themselves. Madelaine was an only child of an older couple. A miracle birth at the age when women usually stopped giving birth. Madelaine had been greatly loved, but not spoiled.

“Interesting reading you’ve got here.”

He pulled himself from his thoughts to find her leafing through the book he’d left on the nightstand.

She looked up at him, her brow arched. “Pretty heavy reading.”

He shrugged, not wanting to go there quite yet. He planned to spend the rest of her life with her and that meant revealing all his secrets, but not yet. Tonight he wanted to forget about everything else.

“Why all the interest in the last book of the Bible?”

He sighed. She wasn’t going to let this go as easily as he hoped. “It intrigues me.”

She snapped the book closed. “It’s depressing.”

“That too.”

She pulled away from him, scooted up in bed and to his great disappointment, pulled the covers over her breasts. “Most people believe the seven seals were opened when Rome fell.”

“I’ve heard that theory.” They were wrong, of course. None of the seals were opened because only one person could open them and that person had yet to reveal himself.
The key,
Michael had said. Christien’s gaze went to the key at Madelaine’s neck. A trinket no farmer could afford.

“You don’t believe Rome was the opening of the seals?”

She was far too perceptive for her own good. “No. I don’t.”

“So you think the Apocalypse is yet to come?”

Not if he could help it. “Hopefully it will never come.”

A crease marred her brow and he wanted to growl in frustration. He had a naked woman in his bed, a woman he loved to distraction, who was distracting him with her hidden breasts and all she wanted to talk about was the Apocalypse?

“I’m trying to remember the story. Something about seven seals and four horsemen.”

He leaned against the headboard. He wasn’t going to get what he wanted until she finished this conversation. Much to his regret. “There are seven seals. The first four are the horsemen of the Apocalypse representing conquest, war, famine and death. Alone they will destroy civilization. The remaining three seals will devastate the earth and all other living creatures.”

“Like I said, depressing.”

“Exactly.” He pulled her down on top of him and pressed his erection against her stomach. Her eyes darkened and a mischievous smile played around the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t want to discuss the Apocalypse?”

He growled and kissed her, trying to erase all thoughts of the Apocalypse, the horsemen and the Book of Revelation.

“Cool tattoo.” Lainie touched the Celtic cross above Christien’s heart, surprised he had a tattoo. Then again, she shouldn’t be surprised. Beneath the designer suits and hand-woven shirts lurked a soldier, a man with a warrior’s mentality.

He rubbed the tattoo. “A whim. I got it in Scotland a long time ago.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Scotland, huh?” She’d never been out of Wisconsin let alone the country. Scotland was a fairytale land to her. Just another of the big differences between them, but she wasn’t going to allow the thought to diminish her good mood.

Right now she was sated, her bones barely solid after making love to Christien twice. He was an unrelenting lover, unsatisfied until she fell apart screaming. Not just once but over and over again. She’d had orgasms before with other lovers, but they were nothing compared to the heights Christien had taken her. It left her breathless and, surprisingly, wanting more.

He was lying on his side, his hand idly playing with the ends of her hair. His body was loose, the normal tension gone from him.

“I know you are determined to return to work tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t ask her to give up her job because at this moment she wasn’t sure she had the strength to fight him and she had to be strong. She had to think of her father. Without a paycheck, he would lose his place in the nursing home.

“Will you come back to me after work?” He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Move in with me, Madelaine. Live with me.”

“Oh.” Oh. She didn’t quite know what to think about that. A little scared, a little excited. He wasn’t asking her to marry him. If he had, she probably would have bolted off the bed and run away. Marriage was way too big of a commitment way too fast. But living with him? She’d never lived with a man before. The thought of returning to her apartment alone didn’t appeal to her. But moving in here?

“You sure you want me under your feet all the time?”

His eyes darkened to a stormy gray. “I want you under me, over me, any way I can get you.”

His words had her squirming. Surely she didn’t want him so hungrily again, but she did. She could have this every night. He was offering it to her. And much more. The chance to be with him, to learn about him. The other Madelaine and Christien never had the chance to explore their love, to see where it could take them. To just
be
without the fear of discovery. This would be like giving them a second chance. And maybe that’s what the dreams were about. Second chances. Righting a wrong.

A do-over.

She smiled up at Christien. “As long as you know what you’re getting into, I would love to live with you.”

Lainie entered her office building with trepidation.

Trepidation? Who was she kidding? She was downright scared. Lucheux told her to take as much time as she needed, but she was sure Giselle hadn’t agreed and since Lainie had never even met Lucheux, it was Giselle’s reaction she was worried about.

Only the thought of going home to Christien in defeat had her straightening her shoulders and marching through the office.

Home. To Christien. The thought still wasn’t something she was used to. Giving up her apartment, packing up her stuff. Putting her clothes in his closet… She shook her head. Now that she was away from him the doubts were creeping in. She wanted more than great sex. She wanted a partnership and she had a feeling Christien was keeping things from her. Layers. The man definitely had layers.

Her coworkers gathered around her, exclaiming over her accident and gently inquiring about her injuries. She answered as best she could, not telling them the belief she was pushed. But she couldn’t hang out in the outer office forever so she broke away and headed with leaden feet to the inner sanctuary where Giselle waited, arms folded, toe tapping.

Lainie drew a deep breath. “Good morning, Giselle.”

Giselle’s frosty glare and a raised eyebrow were her answer. “So glad you were able to join us.” She tilted her head toward Lainie’s desk. “Your work is waiting for you.” She left abruptly, leaving Lainie to stare after her.

That was it? That was all the tongue lashing she was going to get? She stepped into her office and her heart sank. That and a week’s worth of work no one had touched.

“Hey you.”

Lainie lifted her head, the first time she’d looked away from the mountain of paperwork since she arrived six hours ago.

Erica stood in the doorway with a big smile and an even bigger bag of what smelled like food. Lainie’s stomach rumbled.

“I figured you’d be too busy to eat lunch so I brought some.”

Lainie rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck, nearly groaning at how stiff she was. Making love all night with Christien then sitting behind her desk all day made her newly healed body unhappy.

Erica plopped down in the chair opposite the desk, pulled out a container of soup, a plastic-wrapped spoon and a sandwich. Lainie nearly tackled her for it. Neither spoke until Lainie sat back with a contented sigh, her stomach full.

“Thank you.”

Erica waved her hand in the air. “I’m just glad you’re okay. And you’re back.”

Lainie glared at the pile of paperwork. “I’m beginning to rethink that decision.”

“Of course Giselle wouldn’t help you with your work. That would require her to be nice and I don’t think nice is in her vocabulary.”

Lainie laughed. “Definitely not.”
I’m doing this for Dad. I’m doing this for Dad.
If it weren’t for him, she would have left this job long ago.

“I never thanked you for calling Christien after the accident,” she said.

Erica frowned. “I didn’t call Christien.”

“After the accident? He said he got a call and came right away. I thought…” She’d assumed Erica called him, but by Erica’s expression she guessed not.

“I didn’t call him. I didn’t even think about it. Should I have?”

Lainie shook her head. “No. I guess someone else did.” Who though?

Erica stood. “Well, now that you’re back, we need to do lunch again. Only this time don’t get hit by a car.”

Lainie smiled absently. “I’ll try not to.”

She sat at her desk a long while after Erica left. She was positive Christien said he’d come straight to the hospital after getting the call. No one else would have called him. No one but Erica knew they were seeing each other. She picked up her phone and dialed Christien’s number. He answered on the third ring, with a distracted, “Chevalier.”

“Who told you I was hit by the car?”

“Madelaine?”

“I thought Erica called you, but she said it wasn’t her.” Her lunch sat heavily in her stomach right next to the big ball of dread. “The blond guy,” she suddenly said. “He’s one of your men isn’t he?”

“Madelaine, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this over the phone.”

He didn’t deny it.

“I knew I’d seen him somewhere before. Why, Christien? Why did you have me followed?”

“This isn’t the time—”

“Never mind.” She hung up and stared blankly at the wall in front of her.

Giselle appeared in the doorway. “Since you’re staring at the wall, I assume you’ve finished your work.”

Lainie looked down at the stack of paperwork. Disappointment tugged at her—she’d trusted him and he hadn’t trusted her. The bubble of happiness she’d been living in since yesterday afternoon popped, leaving her feelings shredded.

“No, not finished yet,” she said. “I was just taking a small break.”

Giselle rolled her eyes. “Stop slacking. There’s more waiting when you’re finished with that.”

Lainie swallowed her retort and pulled the stack toward her. It was better this way.

She managed to get through most of the paperwork, firmly keeping her mind focused on the task at hand and ignoring the depressing thoughts circling. But by midnight her head was spinning and she was so tired she couldn’t see straight.

Exhausted, she stood and stretched. The other offices were dark, everyone having gone home at least six hours ago. She’d put in a sixteen-hour workday. If that wasn’t good enough for Giselle nothing would be. The woman would have to live with it.

On her way down to the lobby, Lainie gave a passing thought to Christien’s bodyguard who’d been waiting outside the building for the last sixteen hours. She probably should have told him she was working late.

She exited the building and looked for Ronald, but instead found Christien leaning against the outside wall.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Where’s Ronald?”

“I sent him home two hours ago.”

She shrugged and headed toward her apartment. Christien fell into step beside her.

“The blond man you saw was one of my men. Hired to protect you.”

When she didn’t say anything he sighed.

“I told you in the hospital I was afraid someone would try to use you to get to me.”

“You keep
saying
that but you won’t tell me
who
is trying to get to you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, his gaze sliding away. Lainie wanted to scream in frustration.