Margie gave him a critical looking over and, when she was done, she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Okay, maybe he did feel as if he’d gotten hit by a bus but he’d survived worse. He suspected he’d taken the brunt of whatever had happened when the spell had broken but he could take it.
Mara was the one who mattered now.
As the other women began to rouse, Margie checked Mara from head to toe.
An hour later, they’d determined there’d been only one serious injury. One of the older
strega
had hit her head when the spell controlling Mara’s hearing had broken and lashed out. She had a cut that had bled all over her shirt but, other than that, there were no major injuries.
He didn’t consider his worsening headache an injury. It was just a headache. It’d pass.
But Margie kept coming back to him, asking about his head, and finally Mara turned to stare at him.
“What’s wrong?” she signed to Margie.
His hands rose before he remembered he didn’t need them to talk to her anymore. “I’m fine. Just a headache.”
Mara’s mouth firmed and she signed to Margie again. This time he didn’t catch all of it but Margie shook her head.
“No, I think he’ll be fine but he may have a bit of a concussion. I’d feel better if he had someone stay with him tonight though.”
Before he could answer, Mara was signing again and this time he had to wait for Margie to translate. “She said you can stay here. Arin can stay with Grace and Kaisie tonight.”
Stay the night? Here? With her?
His first thought? Hell yes.
His second? Pretty much the same as the first.
Which was how, another hour later, they found themselves alone in that tiny house staring at each other from opposite ends of the couch.
Race had never been good at small talk and Mara couldn’t talk so they sat there staring at nothing while the radio she’d turned on earlier played a steady stream of Latin music. It’d surprised him at first, until he remembered she’d spent the past five or so years in Florida.
“How’s your head?” she signed, her graceful hands moving in ways that made him hot.
Even through the sexual fog, he didn’t have to translate her hand movements into words in his head. She’d asked so many times in the past hour, he’d memorized the signs.
“For the last time, it’s just a headache. I’m more worried about you. Are you sure
you’re
okay? You were knocked out cold.”
She nodded and he could tell she wanted to say something else but probably thought he wouldn’t be able to understand her. Once again he cursed himself for not being able to pick up sign language faster.
Her gaze darted around the room and he rose before she could, knowing what she wanted. Grabbing the pad and pen off the dining room table, he brought them back to her. And nearly bent to steal the sweet smile she gave him with a kiss.
He’d wanted to kiss her for weeks.
Hell, from the first moment he’d seen her, eight months pregnant, terrified but determined to get away from the man who’d made her his slave, he’d wanted to put himself in front of her and shield her from everything. Wanted to make sure no one ever hurt her again.
He realized kissing him probably wasn’t even on her to-do list but keeping her safe was Number One on his. He’d make damn sure no one ever had the chance to hurt her again.
At least as long as she stays in the den.
Just the thought of her leaving made him want to tear things apart.
And that wasn’t going to get them anywhere tonight so why even bother to think about it?
As he sat back down at the far end of the couch, she surprised him by scooting closer and holding out the pad. This close, her scent—spun sugar, sweet pea and baby powder—flooded his senses, made it hard for him to keep from wrapping one hand around her neck and dragging her against his body.
That’d be a sure way to get her to run far and fast.
Biting back that primal urge, he took the pad instead.
I just wanted to say thank you again for coming in and I’m so sorry you were hurt. I don’t want you to be hurt. I don’t want anyone to be hurt because of me. I appreciate everything the lucani have done for me. I don’t plan to be a burden for long.
He stopped reading, his gaze snapping back to hers. “You’re not leaving.”
Okay, that had sounded way too much like a command and Mara’s gaze dropped away from his in a flash.
Shit.
He hadn’t meant to scare her.
Her gaze flashed back up to his and he knew she wasn’t scared. She was pissed.
She began to sign and he only got “You are not” before she lost him.
He held up his hands, frustrated again by his inability to understand. He got that she was angry though. Her hands flew and he watched, mesmerized. He didn’t have a clue what she was angry about because he couldn’t help imagining those slim hands all over him.
He snapped out of the little daydream he had going when Mara clapped, the sound echoing through the room.
His gaze snapped back to hers and he got lost in those dark eyes. Furious eyes. He’d never seen her mad.
It made him hot.
Yeah, you can just put that right out of your mind, asshole. Not happening.
“Sorry. Sorry, I…”
Was thinking about you naked.
Yeah, that would go over really well. “I—”
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the pad out of his hands and began to write again. Then she shoved it back in his face.
You are not my keeper. I’m an adult. I can go anywhere I damn well please whenever I want. My life was dictated for me for far too long. I won’t stand for that again.
He nodded. She was absolutely right. Hell, he understood completely.
Still, it frosted his ass to realize one day she could just up and leave. Disappear. Leave him behind.
Fuck no.
Adrenaline pumped through his body, tightening every muscle until he thought his jaw might crack.
She stared back at him with that stubborn expression and her anger acted as an unexpected aphrodisiac. His cock began to harden. He couldn’t help it.
Wrapping his hand around her neck, he held her steady, gazes locked. He didn’t yank her toward him. He slid across the cushion to her, his hand on her neck making it clear he wasn’t going to release her. Her eyes grew wider with each second until his lips were only inches from hers.
“You want me to treat you like an adult?” His voice had dropped to a barely audible rumble. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Her eyes widened even farther but she didn’t pull away.
That’s right. I’m going to kiss you. Deal with it.
He caught a glimpse of that knowledge in her eyes right before he shut his and sealed his mouth sealed over hers.
Sweet. So fucking sweet.
Goddamn, she tasted like sugar candy. He’d expected that. He hadn’t expected the heat. It took less than a second to build then lit like dry kindling hit with a match.
And then… Holy hell, then the angels fucking sang.
She didn’t kiss as if she were a master at it. Hell no. But what she lacked in finesse, she more than made up for with enthusiasm.
And that’s when he realized he was much more of a Neanderthal than he gave himself credit for.
Releasing her neck, he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her against him.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
Thank the Blessed Goddess. He didn’t want to let her go. Not yet. If she’d shown one hint of fear, he’d have been out the door in a heartbeat. Instead her hands came up to rest on his shoulders and she held on. She
let
him kiss her.
And he took full advantage.
He pried open her lips and licked into her mouth. Slid his tongue against hers and coaxed her into responding. The kiss deepened every second and he felt himself sinking further and further away from reality.
Each taste, each touch, every sigh made him more convinced that this was where she belonged. Even if he knew she wouldn’t stay.
Wow, I should have done this a whole lot sooner.
It was the only thought running through Mara’s brain as Race’s mouth moved over hers.
Blessed Goddess, the man could kiss. Just demanding enough to be dominant but sweet enough to drag her under his spell. She’d thought she’d grown immune to the ways men could make you fall for their tricks, their lies.
But if Race was lying to her in any way, she couldn’t tell. Or maybe she just didn’t want to know.
Since she’d taken leave of her senses for the night, she figured she might as well go all-out and enjoy herself while she had the chance.
She wanted to enjoy Race. Enjoy the solid feel of him so close to her and the lust she couldn’t explain away as magic.
She’d wanted this man since her libido had returned about three months after Arin’s birth. She’d thought it’d been beaten out of her by the life her parents and Ettore had forced her into.
Now… Now she knew it’d only taken the right man to bring it out of her.
This man.
Race’s mouth molded over hers, sucking at her. His tongue pushed between her lips to lick and play with hers.
He wasn’t careful. He didn’t treat her like a porcelain doll. Not like— Well, not like before, when she’d thought she’d been in love. That had been a lie.
This…
This was no lie. This was exactly what she needed.
Race made her feel desirable. Like a woman instead of the walking wounded.
And with her hearing restored, she reveled in the sound of him.
His labored breathing. The low groan he made when he twisted his head to get a better angle on her lips. Heard the shift of his clothes against hers and wondered what it would sound like if they were skin-to-skin.
She loved knowing she made him hot and bothered.
Wrapping her arms around those broad shoulders, she pressed closer until she had to move or risk falling on top of him.
And maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She knew he’d catch her.
Maybe he read her mind because in the next second, he put his arms around her waist and dragged her against him. She opened her legs so her knees fell on either side of his and her chest pressed against his. Then he shoved one hand into her hair and tilted her head so he had better access to her mouth.
His other hand spread across her back and she nearly melted as his fingers stretched from one shoulder blade to the other. This close to him, she felt tiny. As if he could curl around her and nothing could ever get at her again.
It made her bold.
He
made her bold.
When he reached out to lick at her again, she opened her mouth and touched the tip of her tongue to his. He groaned, inducing a shiver that shimmered through her like hard liquor.
Then his tongue pushed past her lips and she opened wider, letting him in. He didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted and a momentary flare of panic lit low in her gut.
What if—
He pulled away, leaving her breathless, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Shit.” Grimacing, he released her to run one hand over his face. “I didn’t mean for that to get so far out of hand. Damn, I’m sorry, Mara. You okay?”
She blinked up at him, heart pounding. Was she okay?
No, she wasn’t. She wanted him to continue. To kiss her and make her forget. To make her feel.
Why had he stopped? Did he think she was frightened? What would he do if she told him no, she wasn’t okay, but only because he’d stopped?
Would he continue? Or was this space for the best?
“Mara?”
She shook her head but not as an answer and signed slowly enough that she knew he’d understand. “I’m fine.”
When he didn’t look totally convinced, she reached for the pad.
You don’t scare me, Race. You make me feel safe. I didn’t want you to stop.
His gaze narrowed on hers after he’d read her note. And did she actually see a hint of a blush on his cheeks?
“I’m glad you feel safe around me. I
want
you to feel safe with me. I…don’t want you to be uncomfortable. With me.”
She took a moment to consider her response, pen poised over the paper as Race watched her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, wasn’t sure what she should say.
I’m not uncomfortable with you. I just
She paused. She didn’t know how to put into words how she felt about him. Couldn’t think of the right thing to say.
Since Kaisie and Grace had brought her here, Race had always been near. At first, she thought he’d been assigned. She’d asked Lia to find out. Lia had told her he’d asked to be her protection. She had no idea why.