Shadowlander (11 page)

But it was more than that.

Sure, Rook could take any woman’s breath away, but he did something more to her. In all the years he’d watched her, teased her now and again with the sweep of his fingers across her nape in the park or his breath in her ear, he’d always been respectful of her, always been protective.

Always treated her as if she were special.

A warmth unfurled low in her belly. Having a chance to spend time with him had made her realize they were far more alike than they were different. They were like matched halves of a set. It didn’t matter that they were fae and human or worlds apart. He gloried in her just as she was, and no one had ever done that before.

Had he been just a guy and not fae, her grandmother and sisters would have welcomed him with open arms. But he was fae. And while that might be an automatic scratch-out in their books, it no longer was in hers. Because deep down she knew she could trust him, knew that she cared for him in a way she’d never let herself care for a guy before.

Not that it mattered. Whether she trusted him or cared for him, neither was going to make a difference in her world. His people still planned to invade somewhere. And once that started, the Shadowlanders would be at war and she wouldn’t be able to see him. Cate knew she couldn’t live here with him, and he certainly couldn’t belong in her world.

She’d have nothing but memories of this time spent together when she returned to Seattle.

Their soft leather riding boots made only a whisper of sound on the marble floors.

“There will be a warm bath, food, and fresh clothing waiting for us in my apartments.” He guided her to a small golden grate beside a tapestry. A group of well-dressed fae laughed and talked as they picnicked among fields of rolling wheat, but they quieted as she and Rook approached.

Rook glanced at them and they all lowered their heads in a nod to him. He inclined his head in acknowledgment. Everyone in this world showed deference to him. And yet he acted as if she were far more important than he was.

Cate stood up on her toes and whispered in his ear. “They can see us?”

Rook’s dark brown eyes danced with humor. “It is a portal. A window in is a window out.”

Damn. There seemed to be eyes on them everywhere. The soft chime of bells sounded as the golden grate slid aside. Thank God. Something she finally recognized—an elevator. And maybe a chance to be truly alone with him.

Cate gripped tighter to his hand as they walked in. The lighted buttons on the panel didn’t have numbers but more runes on them, and she made a note of which one stood for the great entrance hall. He depressed one that looked like three swirls in a triangular arrangement. The golden grate slid shut. Her stomach gave the familiar dip as they ascended quickly.

Rook took up most of the confined space with his broad shoulders. Cate took advantage of the moment alone and leaned into him, enjoying the solid feel of him pressed against her. His gaze locked down on hers, and his jaw flexed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he said, his voice low and strained.

“Some of the worst ideas are the most fun,” she replied as she stood on her toes so she could reach his mouth.

§

In the enclosed space of the riser, the subtle blend of cinnamon and vanilla that drifted off her skin infused the air. It was impossible for him to ignore, but once she pressed up against him, his whole world narrowed to only Cate.

As he slipped his hand beneath the edge of her heavy coat, her soft rosy lips parted slightly. The silk of her shirt was smooth and hot against his hand, a poor imitation of what her skin would feel like beneath his touch. Rook leaned in, closing the gap between them and capturing her willing mouth in a searing kiss that burned away all rational thought.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing the soft swells of her warm breasts against his chest. Without her undergarments, they were separated from his touch only by the thin fabric barrier. Rook growled. He wanted to rip the shirt off of her, unable to deny the rush of mindless need she brought out in him. He would do anything, be anything to her, but as a member of the Makcay, she was a caste above him. The choice to take him as a mate was hers and hers alone.

Her lips clung to his, their breath mingling. She tasted of gilly fruit, sweet and hot. It was easy to ignore the chiming bells that said they’d reached his apartments—what he couldn’t ignore was the driving beat in his blood urging him to take what she so willingly offered.

She pulled back, settling onto her feet. “The door’s open,” she said, her voice husky and her breathing as erratic as his own.

Rook didn’t respond. He damn well couldn’t. In one fluid movement he scooped her up into his arms, the wound in his arm throbbing, the tails of her coat slapping against him as he marched toward the golden doors of his apartment.

Once they reached his room, there would be Vaquin fae to attend them in their bathing and dressing, but he’d already decided to dismiss them from their duty tonight. There was no telling how Cate would react to having servants bathe her, and while it was a chore considered too lowly for a prince of the realm, he dearly would prefer doing it himself. The shimmer in his blood increased at the thought of her supple skin wet and slippery beneath his hands. His verge flexed in response, growing even harder.

His hands full of Cate, and unwilling to wait upon his servants, he kicked open the doors. There were a few shrieks of surprise from the Vaquin as he strode in. He glanced at the bathing suite off his main bedroom and saw steam swirling in eddies above the surface of the water. Good—his bath was ready. Fresh clothing was spread out upon the massive bed and a cart of sliver-domed food trays waited near his dresser.

“You’ve done well. Now get out!” he ordered. No one even tried to argue. The Vaquin scurried to obey, closing the door behind them with a click.

“That was more polite than a thank you?” Cate said cryptically.

“It is when I would have forcibly thrown them out if they hadn’t obeyed. I didn’t want them bathing or dressing you. That’s for me to do this night.”

Cate’s eyes widened slightly, then just as quickly changed as her lashes lowered. “You’re going to bathe and dress me?”

“That was the plan.”

Her mouth twitched. “I like it.”

As much as he loathed letting go of her, Rook set her down.

“So am I going to undress myself or are you?”

“Oh, that’s completely my responsibility, my lady.”

He reached for the lapels of her jacket and she stopped him with a small hand firm upon his chest. “Only if I get to do the same. Fair is fair.”

Rook grinned. “Anything else my lady wishes?”

Cate stepped up against him, rising onto her toes. “A lot more of this,” she said as she crushed her mouth to his. A shot of liquid fire burned through his veins. His hands couldn’t move fast enough to peel the clothing from her, and his fingers lost all dexterity when it came to the little buttons holding the waist of her riding pants in place.

As their tongues slid hot and slick against each other, her hands were just as busy stripping the clothing from him, pausing only to glide across his stomach, his hip, over the inside of his bare thigh to cup the length of him in her hand.

Rook broke their kiss and let out a hiss of breath, fighting for control. He took the opportunity to pull the shirt over her head, then wrapped his arms around her gloriously naked, lithe body, and deeply kissed her as he carried her to the bathing pool. Together they sunk down into the hot water.

Cate broke apart and let out a contented sigh. “Oh, this feels good.” The low groaning deep in the back of her throat resonated through him, reminded him of the purr of a catamount.

Rook smiled, pleased. He released his hold on her to grab the lather bar, then quickly rubbed it between his hands, letting the bubbly suds form. While he knew they’d both be cleaner if he used a cloth, he didn’t want anything more between him and Cate, and opted for using his bare hands.

She dunked beneath the water, coming up with a splash. The water clung in crystalline drops on her long lashes and turned her hair into dark, glossy spirals.

“Turn,” he instructed.

Cate twisted, standing up so the water swirled about the curve of her thighs. He ran his fingers into the wet curls on her head, letting the sweet honey-scented bubbles build as he massaged her scalp. The white foam slid down her neck, trailing along the narrow channel of her spine.

His body shook as he gathered more lather from the bar. His hands moved in a sensual slide in the same path over her smooth skin. He skimmed and kneaded the back of her neck, the slope of her shoulders and arms, enjoying the feel of her. Rook lingered a little longer over the feminine dip of her spine and the glorious flair of her hips and curves of her bottom.

She was a goddess, wrapped in a sleek mortal shell, every inch of her supple, firm, and slippery beneath his touch. Rook contemplated how very wet and slick she would be within as well.

An appreciative groan escaped in her throat. “That feels decadent,” she murmured.

“Time for the front,” he said as stoically as he could manage, considering his verge ached and his body had become one great heartbeat from head to toe, pounding with the insane rush of his blood. Even the steaming water felt only lukewarm against his skin. She was a fire consuming him from the inside out.

Cate turned and gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, the sultry look in her eyes stealing away his ability to breathe.

“You are beyond beauty,” he said, with his last sip of air. Her skin, already rosy from the temperature of the water, didn’t reveal the blush he found so endearing, but the sparkle in her eyes and slightly parted mouth revealed her appreciation of his touch. Her lips tilted in a way that made his heart pound harder. He wanted a thousand moments—no, a million—like this with her.
I love you
, he said silently, unable yet to speak the words to her.

“I think the front is jealous,” she said, her tone husky and seductive.

He swallowed, his tongue too thick to speak, and merely smiled at her in reply. His hands shook as he took the lather bar between them.

His fingers, slick with the suds, traced over her, paying special attention to her breasts. Trails of the white foam slid over the rounded globes, down the curve of her ribs, and across the span of her soft belly. His hands eagerly pursued, learning each dip and hollow of her wondrous form.

“We aren’t doing much to get you clean,” she murmured. She arched a brow. “Stand up.”

At this point he would have torn the castle down stone by stone and rebuilt it if she had asked him to. The water sluiced off him in warm rivulets. Her gaze lingered on him and his verge flexed.

A glint of mischief sparkled in her gaze. “This is going to take a lot more soap.” Without warning she pressed her wet body against him, the lather forming a sensual layer between them. Every curve of her slid against him, his verge moving against her belly, amplifying the red haze quickly taking over his vision.

Rook locked his arms around her and plunged them both up to their necks in the hot water. She gasped, the beads of her nipples rasping against his chest. He felt her heart beating hard and fast, like a bird trapped by the cage of her ribs.

“Lean back.” The raw edge of his voice betrayed his barely leashed need. She did, closing her eyes as he rinsed the lather from her hair, her curls swirling in the water and tangling in his fingers as he kissed the column of her neck, her breath coming in fast pants.

Beneath the water, Rook cupped her bottom in his hands, letting his fingers follow the indentation there until he found what he sought. She gasped and bucked against him, closing her eyes as he moved his fingers within the soft center of her.

He needed her permission. Needed her to say the words before he could do any more to please her. “Tell me what you want.” He increased the rhythm, making her writhe against his hand.

She groaned.

“Not good enough. I need your words.”

Her eyes snapped open. Blatant desire and impatience glazed them a brilliant green. “Take. Me. Now.”

He crushed his mouth to hers in a kiss both hungry and demanding. Cate responded with a ferocity that matched his own, her tongue mating with his as she wrapped around him like a vine, encircling him with her arms and legs. For an instant, Rook didn’t know if it was the moment or the water that made them buoyant. He only knew in that endless second, he was floating.