Dark Desire (46 page)

She took his breath away with her bravery. "Why did you not contact me?"

"I was afraid it would distract you, Jacques. I knew you were in a fight for your life. The last thing you needed to do was worry about me."

"You are still bleeding," he pointed out softly, holding her away from him so he could examine her.

"It doesn't really hurt all that much, now that you're back and safe," she assured him.

"I'm sorry it was your father. I know how much having a father, some member of your family, alive would have meant to you." He bent his head to the angry cut across her left breast. His tongue lapped at the wound gently, the healing properties in his saliva instantly closing the laceration. Her skin, recently so cold and lifeless, was suddenly beginning to heat. Steam rose all around them, enfolding them in its embrace. "My family will have to be your family," he added softly. "We will make our own family."

Shea rubbed her face against his chest like a kitten, her mouth wandering up the column of his throat. "We have a strange family, Jacques, every one of them. I guess we'll have to be the sane ones."

He loved the laughter in her voice. As sad as she must be at this moment, with the man who was her father responsible for so much death and hatred, she still found it in her to try to make him feel better. His arms tightened protectively. "I suppose we cannot tell them we feel this way."

"Better not. I think they're under the mistaken impression that something is a little off with us." Shea moved her head, swinging the silky hair away from her neck, exposing a long, deep scratch for his attention.

Jacques instantly bent his head to accommodate her. His tongue tasted the sweet spice of life, caressed and teased, moved up her neck to find her ear. His teeth nipped gently. He could feel the responsive shiver run through her. Her skin was soft and warm, bringing life to his own. "And we can create our own family eventually, Shea. Our child." When he felt her stiffen, he held her closer, his voice a velvet soft whisper. "Not now, Shea, later, when you are strong in our world and sure of yourself, and I am completely healed. Our child. Children. Your dream has become my dream. We can have it, Shea."

"Don't, Jacques," Shea said.

"We can, my love. I am remembering things much faster now. I know as we grow together, I will be able to feel as you feel. I want our child. I want you happy. I want to give you a family. Do not close out the idea from your mind. We have centuries to come to this decision, but know this: I want it, too."

"When you can promise me you will remain and love and guide our child should something happen to me, then I will gladly agree."

His teeth touched the side of her neck. "Thanks to you, I have faith in myself. I will someday be able to give you such a promise. I will also tell you, if such a thing should occur, that the child would be my hope on this earth, and when she or he had a family, then I would gladly join you."

She could feel the tears swimming in her eyes. "Then I am truly happy, Jacques. You could never give me a more beautiful gift than you already have. Even if you never reach that point, I will always love you for wanting to reach it and striving to do so."

"Your happiness is of great importance to me."

"You smell different, Jacques." Shea inhaled his scent sharply, pulled back so she could look into his eyes. "Why do you smell different?"

He laughed softly. "It is not a woman, red hair. Why are you so suspicious? I met another one such as myself in the forest. I was in need, and he offered his aid."

"And you took it?" She was astonished. Jacques had certainly come a long way from the wary, dark, dangerous man she had first encountered. "He was a total stranger, yet you allowed him to help you?"

"You were a total stranger, and I allowed you to do more than simply aid me," he teased, his mouth warm against the corner of hers. "In fact, you gave me all sorts of interesting ideas on how you could further aid me."

"I did not. As I recall, I told you I was your doctor, nothing more, and you would not listen to me. You know, Jacques, that's a very bad habit of yours, not listening to me."

His mouth wandered back to her ear, his breath stirring her blood. "I promise to remedy the situation as soon as humanly possible," he whispered with a sorcerer's magic.

Shea could feel his breath right down to her toes. Then she saw an ugly slash wound marring his shoulder. She lowered her mouth to heal it and tasted the unique flavor that was Jacques. She felt his involuntary response and deliberately squirmed closer, bringing her body right up against his. She tasted his essence, she tasted the adrenaline, the primitive joy of battle, she tasted his pain.
"Humanly
possible, huh?" she mused. "I don't know if I like the way you put that. It seems to me you'll be able to get around that one fairly easily." Shea circled his neck with her arms and pulled his head down to hers. Blindly, unerringly, she found his mouth with hers. She put everything into her kiss, her love, her fear, her acceptance of his ways. Her desire for him, her need of him, all of it rushed from her to him.

Jacques' arms tightened possessively. His mouth was hungry against hers, needing to feed on her sweetness, her purity, to wipe out the remnants of the lingering demon. Her body was plaint and welcoming, her mouth as hungry as his. He flung his clothes in every direction and moved to gather her even closer. He felt her shift her weight, felt them both teeter, and then they were tumbling into the pool beneath them.

Locked together, they went to the bottom, their mouths clinging to one another, their shared laughter in their minds. He kicked his legs strongly as she wrapped hers around his waist. Their heads broke the surface, sending rings of ripples skipping over the water. She was laughing, catching his face in her hands. "You are so incredibly romantic, Jacques, I can barely catch my breath here."

His hands moved up to cup her buttocks, to massage suggestively. He raised one eyebrow. "Are you saying this was my fault? Woman, I never lose my balance. I needed to follow you into the water to keep you from embarrassing yourself."

Her hand found the back of his waist, caressed the intriguing little niche there, and moved to follow the line of his hip. "I think, wild man, you need me very much." She pressed her body closer to his, found the hot, thick evidence of his desire. "Very, very much." Shea tightened her legs around his waist and settled herself over his aggressive length, taking the thick weight of him into her.

His breath exploded as velvet fire seemed to enfold him. His teeth found the slim column of her neck, holding her pinned and still for his invasion. There was such beauty in the moment, he felt suspended in time, caught in another dimension. Her hair floated around them like silken sea kelp, and her full breasts pushed into the heavy muscles of his chest. She was soft and plaint, flowing around him like warm honey, yet her muscles were firm and moving convulsively to keep him within her body.

Water splashed up around them with the movement of their bodies, brushed their sensitive skin like fingers, a warm, loving caress. She was his world in that moment, the true meaning of living to him. Colors were dancing around them—not the gray, bleak world he had existed in for so long, but true colors, vivid and real. Feelings were strong, emotions deep, his heart thudding with wonder, his protective instincts and great capacity for love stealing into his soul. In contrast to his world of pain and rage, of utter coldness and despair, this love for her was a miracle. She would never understand what she truly meant to him, not even reading his mind, because the depth of feeling was so great. He had hungered and needed for so long, with no hope, yet now she was in his arms, her body one with his, her heart and mind in tune and rhythm, her soul locked irrevocably with his.

Jacques knew, as his body moved gently and lovingly into hers, as his hips thrust forward and he buried himself ever deeper, that his life was changed forever. He would have a home, a family, children; he would have love and laughter surrounding him all the days he chose to remain on earth. He would have her body, her heart, her purity and goodness to temper his predatory nature. His hell had become a paradise that he had somehow, through all his mistakes, managed to reach.

Because she could read his mind so easily, because he rarely left her completely, Shea could glimpse his feelings. She laid her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and allowed the building explosion to overtake her. Her arms tightened around Jacques, around her anchor, her security. Whatever happened in the future, whatever they were forced to face and deal with, they had one another, and that was all anyone could ask.

Jacques lifted them to the heavens, and they soared there together while the water in the pool splashed and receded around them. He framed her face gently with his large hands and looked into her vivid green eyes.

"I love you, Shea. I always will," he vowed softly.

"I love you too, Jacques," she whispered back.

He found her mouth, the warm sweetness only she could provide, and took it hungrily. They slipped deeper into their embrace, and the water closed over their heads. Laughing, coughing, they broke apart and swam to the surface, the horrors of the day drowned in the depth of their love.

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