Hidden Legacy (28 page)

Lucas reached for the light. She sprang up, stopping the movement. “No!”

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll just dim it a little.”

Holding her hand, he notched the lamp’s knob once, twice. Involuntarily, she squeezed his hand when the room went into a temporary blackness. Then the lamp clicked for a third time, settling a soft, intimate light into the room.

Clutching the sheets against her, she made no move to lie down again, or to release his hand still holding hers. “I can’t do this.”

Just the thought of darkness and how the images of death would parade across it was enough to make her shudder.

“Sure you can.” He sat beside her, on top of the sheets and blanket. He let go of her hand and draped his arm around her. She stiffened. Gently, he pressed her head against his shoulder. “Close your eyes.”

“I can’t. All I see is Cindy.”

“Think of something else. Think of your Sunday adventures with Briana.”

Thinking of her daughter helped a bit. “I miss her terribly.”

“I know.” He took a long breath in, then let it out slowly. “I’ll tell you a bedtime story.”

“I’m a little old for that,” she said, chuckling uncertainly. Her body refused to relax against his, but she didn’t try to escape his hold.

“You’re never too old for a bedtime story.” His thumb idly stroked the length of her neck, causing havoc with her pulse.

“No adventures. You can save those for Briana.”

He leaned his head against the top of hers. His scent, his heat glided through her clothes. Comforting. “How about a fairy tale?”

“Does it have a happy ending?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I need a happy ending tonight.” She snuggled closer, resting a hand on his heart, feeling the strong, steady rhythm beneath her palm. Solid. Alive.

“Once upon a time,” he said, stroking the side of her neck with maddening tenderness. “There was a small kingdom called Dunavia. There King Edik and his queen, Nadyenka, lived happily. To celebrate the birth of their first heir, Edik had a new jewel added to his crown. A centerpiece brooch as beautiful as the woman he loved with all his heart. A sapphire symbol of truth and wisdom, a reminder of responsibility.”

“I think I’ve heard that one somewhere before.” And there had been nothing happy about the ending. Why was he bringing it up?

“No, not like this.” He kissed the top of her head, and a rush of heat washed over her, prickling her skin beneath the heavy sweatshirt. “In nineteen-oh-three, because of the political situation in neighboring Serbia, the king made his family leave their kingdom. When Peter the first attacked their castle, King Edik was forced to flee. He was wounded during his escape.”

“He died,” she said sadly, remembering his previous recounting of the tale.

“Yes, but before he died, he gave Aleksi, his oldest son the Nadyenka Sapphire, the only part of his crown he was able to save. Aleksi was to keep in trust until the monarchy could once again reign.”

“How did they escape?” she asked impulsively, and felt him smile against her hair.

“Helped by allies, Aleksi, his fiancée, his mother, and his two sisters emigrated to the United States. He and Jana had two sons, Mirek and Tomik. Aleksi died soon after Tomik’s birth, leaving Jana to raise her two sons in near poverty. As Tomik grew older, he saw the value of the Sapphire and wanted to sell it to live a better life. Mirek, as the eldest and heir, refused, keeping his father’s promise.”

“A man of honor.” She was becoming much too aware of his touch, of the impossible heat building inside her, of the pulsing ache low in her belly.

“Mirek became a police officer because law and honor were his legacy, and he intended to carry them out any way he could.”

Understanding trickled in. “Lucas…”

“Shh, the story’s not over,” he said, stroking her hair, her neck, her shoulder. “Mirek fell in love with a girl named Diana Raines. Her family was very much against their marriage. She was after all part of a blue-blood family, and he was only a lowly foot patrolman. Diana didn’t care. She loved Mirek and married him anyway. Her father never spoke to her again, even after he learned of Mirek’s royal background.”

“This isn’t a very happy story.”

“It is. Mirek and Diana loved each other very much.” She had never heard so much emotion in his voice. Tears sprang to her eyes because, despite his assurances, she sensed the story headed toward more sadness. “Mirek’s kingdom became the small town of Hopewell where he died protecting his people.”

Where a young man had learned about loss, and sought revenge.

“After the funeral.” Lucas paused, swallowed hard. Her heart went out to him. She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Diana gathered her children and brought out Mirek’s treasure, explaining its significance. The prince understood that he was now the bearer of the legacy entrusted to his father and grandfather before that.”

She’d been wrong. Revenge wasn’t what Lucas had sought with his career. What he’d wanted was his dead father’s approval. “What a burden for a young man.”

“Not a burden. An honor.”

An honor he felt bound to upkeep time and again. “So the prince went in search of a kingdom of his own,” she said, speaking with him in the abstract because the personal was too dangerous still.

“And ended up with the FBI.”

“As a specialist in art and jewel theft investigations.”

“He found success and great satisfaction in his work.”

“Became his work.”

He raised his head, put a finger under her chin and tilted it up until their gazes met, his so fervent and hot, it took her breath away. “But still something was missing.”

“What?” she croaked, afraid of his answer.

“He didn’t know what it was. It kept itching at him and itching at him that there had to be something more. Then he saw her and he knew. The princess of his dreams. Sketching with a passion that ignited a knowing he needed her to balance his life.”

He frowned, showing her hurt and unguarded candor. All she’d seen six years ago was the unshatterable confidence he’d exuded, the potent attraction of his self-assurance. And needing those things she could not find in herself, she’d yielded to him, opened to him, become much too vulnerable—until the thing that had attracted her to him had made her turn away.

“No, not me,” she said, shaking her head. “You didn’t need me.”

“Yes, you.” He kissed her then, just as he had that first time six years ago, with heat and passion and an uncommon tenderness she could not defend against. She became annealed silver, soft and pliable, ready for him to mold any way he desired.

“The prince loved the princess with all his heart, all his soul,” he whispered in her ear, emotion choking his words. “Whenever he thought of the future, he always saw her in it. They would find a castle of their own, and eventually share it with a few princes and princesses. She was his hope.”

“She didn’t know.” She drew closer, kissed his cheek, his ear, his neck.

“The prince couldn’t understand why the princess would send him away. He thought she shared his dream.”

“She did,” Juliana said, lifting up from his chest, seeking his gaze, scrunching the material of his shirt in her hands. “But she thought the prince couldn’t see past ruling his kingdom and his people.”

The look in his eyes was so sad, her heart gave a lurch.

“The prince had never had to ask for anything before. He didn’t know how to hold his princess. So he let her go, immersed himself in his kingdom. And got lost.”

“Oh, Lucas.” She twined her arms around his neck, and hugged him fiercely, and did what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do, she cried tears of regret.

“I still don’t know how to hold you, Jewel.”

His words fanned across her ear, shaky and raw.
You have me
, her heart wept.
You always did. You always will
. But fear was older than love, had the stronger voice. “Could you really stay in one place?”

“Could you ever trust me to?”

A low hum permeated the room through the buzz in her mind. Her thoughts ran in circles, ending where they began.

“I don’t know,” she said because she owed him honesty. She sank against him, felt him withdraw.

As he got up, the mattress creaked. “Try to get some sleep.”

He took his warmth with him. And hers. Loneliness pierced through her, sharp and swift.

“Lucas. Stay.”

He reached for his laptop on the other bed. “I’ll be right here, doing some research.”

She lifted the sheet and invited him in. “No, stay.”

He stood there unmoving, his body lean and taut, the light from the lamp a halo around his head. His fingers curled into fists by his side.

“I want you, Jewel,” he said, his voice smoky with desire. “I want to get lost in you. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

The truth of his words appeared in the warm depth of his eyes, in the guarded tension of his body, in the unmistakable strain of his erection beneath his jeans. And she wanted him, too. Wanted what they’d once shared. “Yes.”

Still he didn’t move.

“I want you today and tomorrow and the day after that. But trust, you’ll have to find on your own.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

For tonight, she would let herself believe in happy endings.

* * *

She was beautiful in the room’s low light. Her skin looked as smooth as marble, but infinitely more warm with its soft golden glow. The wise thing to do would be to walk away, to go out that hotel door, and leave her behind. She was frightened. She was stressed. She needed reassurance, not sex.

But he didn’t. He dropped his laptop on the empty bed, shed his clothes and lay beside her, drawing her pliable body against his, molding her to him. A sigh weaved with satisfaction through his body.

He meant to kiss her forehead, start slow, but found her mouth instead, felt it part beneath his, welcome him, and could not stop himself from deepening the kiss. She tasted of peaches and brandy. She felt warm and yielding. She smelled of roses and jasmine… and home.

How long he’d waited for this, wanted this, dreamed of this.

He wanted her now. Fiercely. Primaly.

Instead, he pulled away. She clung to him, question and emotion swirling in her eyes. Those wonderful eyes that always turned deep, deep blue when her passion ran high. Mood rings, he’d once joked. He could read them as easily now as he had then. So open, she was when aroused. She had loved him; she loved him still. In that moment he understood her fear. Being that open left a lot of room for hurt.

“Juliana,” he started, but wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. “I’ll be there.”

She shook her head. In her eyes, he saw the gleam of uncertainty. “No promises.”

But without promises, how was she to learn to trust? “I’ll be there.”

He kissed her again, sealing his vow. Slowly, gently, tenderly. Sweet sounds purred from low in her throat, fueling his ache to possess her. “I’ll always be there.”

He grabbed the hem of her fleece shirt, yanked it over her head, and discarded it over his shoulder. With equal ease he slipped the fleece pants off. His gaze took in the length of unveiled skin. Her nipples pearled under his scrutiny as if he’d caressed them. He couldn’t pass up the invitation, so he bent and tasted the hard buds, the rich creamy skin surrounding them, and moaned at the rediscovered pleasure.

His hands relearned the hills and valleys of her, his mouth the taste and texture of her. His fingers found the honeyed center of her. Her hot, flowing readiness made him quiver with anticipation.

He stroked her, reveled in the heady soft sounds she made. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, driving him a little closer to madness. His heartbeat drummed hard inside him. Sweat slicked his skin. She touched him where he longed to be touched, and he thought he would shatter from the exquisite torture of her caress.

She was liquefying under him, melting, so responsive. Arms wound around his neck, she kissed him with wild abandon, provoking a primitive answer. One of her legs curled around his, pressing him closer. Her hips rose to meet him, demanding. And when she whispered his name in a raw rasp of need against his ear, he could no longer control his fierce craving. He fit himself to her, thrust deep inside.

She was his, only his.

They found their rhythm. Two lost souls connecting, spiraling into the dark void of pleasure. He was in her. She was in him. They became one with the night and the golden light and the sensual delight.

He was home where he belonged.

When they were spent and she slept peacefully nestled in his arms, he found the calm contentment he’d lost for six years.

Into that space of profound comfort slithered an eel of disquiet. Willy had used Juliana and Briana because he’d somehow known they would have an emotional hold on him. Willy was still calculating, manipulating even though the situation was falling apart around him. And when he was cornered, where would he turn to for leverage? To the one place it would hurt the most.