Courting Darkness (13 page)

Refusing to rise to the bait, she lay there several more minutes, watching him from the shadows of her side of the bed. He appeared at total rest were it not for the subtle tick of a muscle in his tightly clenched jaw. “Are you going to kill me?” The question tumbled from her lips before she had the chance to bite it back.

Haden turned his head toward her and opened his eyes, holding her stare with unwavering sincerity. “I truly hope it doesn’t come to that, Olivia. Now get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

God, save me…s
he prayed, lying beside her abductor, still as death. His firm grip on her hand remained, banishing any hope of escape. Trying to force herself to relax, she fixed her mind on Liam, rather than the half-naked Nephilim lying in bed beside her. She imagined it was her angel’s hand tightly holding hers as she tried to reach out to him with her heart.
Help me…

No longer fighting the tears leaking from her eyes, she silently caved beneath the gravity of her hopeless situation.
I’m going to die…

Haden lay beside her, eyes closed, pretending to ignore the rapid tick of her pulse and her soft hitching breaths—to ignore the briny scent of her tears. Her hand was soft against his hard, war-calloused one. He hadn’t held a woman’s hand like this since…Anya.

Olivia felt good—too good. Desire coiled in the pit of his stomach. The unwanted ache made him long for another time, another place. If he was honest, something he tried never to be, he’d finally admit to himself that he wanted her. Fuck, who was he kidding, he’d wanted Olivia from the moment he’d laid eyes on her four years ago. She’d walked into The Wrath on the arm of a fallen angel, and Haden knew then that the female’s days were numbered.

If he thought, for even a second, there was a chance she would succumb to him, he’d take her into his arms right now and drive all thoughts of Liam from her mind and her heart. Without a doubt, it was that male she cried for.

He wondered what she’d taste like without the accent of tequila and lime to flavor her kiss. Hungering to taste her lush mouth again, Haden’s thumb subconsciously brushed over the top of her hand in a feather-light caress. Her pulse leapt against his wrist, her responsiveness heating the blood surging through his veins, flooding south. With his free hand, he reached between his legs and readjusted the arousal straining against the confines of his too-snug jeans.

He chuckled at her indignant gasp—a low throaty rumble that sounded more like a hungry growl. Giving into the impulse, he slid his thumb over the velvet-soft flesh of her wrist, tracing the primal pounding of her pulse. If this simple caress provoked such a swift reaction in him, he could only imagine what her willing touch would do to him.

“Stop that,” she hissed, lashing out with her foot and solidly connecting with his shin.

Her ire pleased him—more than it should. He knew Olivia feared him, and that she refused to cow, despite that fear, earned her a measure of respect he rarely afforded women—but then Olivia wasn’t just any other woman. And damn if he didn’t love a challenge.

He really would be disappointed if he had to kill her. “You surprise me,” he teased, pushing the unwelcomed thought from his mind. “I didn’t realize you liked it so rough. Keep it up and you’re gonna turn me on.” It was a warning well past its expiration date.

Another indignant gasp escaped her lush mouth. Then silence. “I hate you,” she seethed under her breath.

Her confession, whether true or false, stung more than he cared to admit. “Go to sleep, Olivia, before I say fuck it and give you a real reason to say that to me.”

Wisely, she kept her mouth shut, letting out an indignant huff as she attempted to roll away. Giving him her back, she only made it halfway to her side before she ran out of reach. Just to spite the feisty female and remind her who she was dealing with, he gripped her hand tighter and gave her a sharp tug.
Damn… It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter Ten

Olivia couldn’t sleep. Her muscles were stiff and sore from lying in the same position most of the night. She was afraid to move for fear of waking Haden. Each time she’d tried turning, she’d been rewarded with an immediate tightening on her hand. Her fingers had long grown numb from lack of circulation and pride prevented her from turning toward him, even to ease the pain in her hand and the ache in her twisted shoulder.

She had the urge to bury her elbow in the side of his ribs in retaliation, but thought better of provoking him. Her kick to the shin hadn’t exactly gotten the response she’d been hoping for. Slowly, she craned her neck to look behind her, careful not to disturb him. His eyes were closed, his right arm bent at the elbow, forearm propped behind his head as he rested peacefully against the pillow.

The steady rise and fall of his chest confirmed he was deep in slumber. Unable to bear the pain of contortion another moment, she gingerly rolled onto her back, grimacing when the springs of the old mattress gave a soft creak. Olivia froze with bated breath, waiting for his eyes to fly open. She watched his chest for rhythmic breathing to confirm he still slept. Carefully, she completed her roll, sighing in relief to get the pressure off her shoulder, to bend her elbow.

The ambient glow through the cracked curtains bathed Haden in a pre-dawn nimbus of ethereal beauty. For a moment, she studied the flawless quality of his masculine features—the sharp cut of his cheekbones, his patrician nose, and his square jaw bespoke of regal breeding. He’d called himself a half-breed, the derogatory growl of his voice having hinted at a degree of self-loathing. But to see him now, the only thing about him that was sub-par was his deplorable temperament.

Of its own volition, her assessing gaze dropped lower, roving over the chiseled planes of his bare chest, down the rigid muscles of his abdomen to a small smattering of blond hair that disappeared beneath the blanket draped low across his waist. To see him like this, she became very aware of how truly dangerous Haden was, for this male looked like an angel, but no doubt was the devil in disguise.

The corded muscles indenting at his hips drew her gaze lower. The thin blanket draping his hips did nothing to hide the outline of his evident arousal. Shocked to discover his current state of awareness, she suddenly realized the slow, rhythmic cadence of Haden’s slumbered breaths were now shallow, bated—uneven.

With an inward groan, she slowly lifted her eyes, knowing what she’d find, but still hoping she was wrong. Another dragging gaze past his bare torso…

Oh, please be asleep.

Glancing higher, she met a pair of vibrant sea-green eyes that held no trace of sleep. His tawny brow cocked arrogantly as his top lip pulled up in a roguish grin. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare? If you were going to eye-fuck me, the least you could have done was ask. Now I just feel used and violated.”

Heat flushed her face at his smug mockery. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? If yes, then
Please, God, take me now…

Olivia was speechless—horrified to be caught staring at his half-naked body. Of course he’d get the wrong idea. Of course he would take great pleasure in taunting her—vicious bastard. She’d just been curious, that’s all. It meant nothing, not that he’d ever believe her.

Still, she denied adamantly, “I was doing no such thing!”

“Then, pray tell, what were you doing?”

“I was looking for a weapon, one I could plunge right into your black heart!”

A sardonic chuckle rumbled in his chest she felt all the way to her bones. Letting go of her hand, Haden lifted both arms over his head to grip the arched metal bar of the bed frame. An act of submission she knew was anything but—a likely trap was what it was. The movement flexed his biceps, stretched his pecks, and the muscles rolled beneath his stomach like flesh-covered steel. She could feel the penetrating heat of his gaze as he watched her like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

“Then, by all means, search to your little heart’s content.”

She wanted to look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her stare, but damn if her eyes didn’t refuse to cooperate.

“It’s only fair to warn you that once you breach those covers, you’ll definitely find me heavily armed, though not with the weapon you were no doubt hoping to find.”

An arid gasp escaped her parted lips when words failed her. Indignant and humiliated, she turned to lunge out of bed. Haden caught her around the waist before she could get a foot on the floor. Hauling her back, he rolled her beneath him, pinning her against his heated sheets.

“Let me go!” she demanded, thrashing about, trying to buck his heavy weight off of her—all the while his “weapon” ground threateningly near her inner thigh. It didn’t take long for the wry amusement in his eyes to darken into something much more sinister, and she knew a true moment of panic.

He must have felt it too, because in that moment, clarity seemed to flash in his heavy-lidded gaze. With a snarled curse, he rolled to the side, letting her go. Olivia bolted off the bed and fled to the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her, she threw the lock and rode the wood down to the cold tile floor. Bracing her back against the flimsy panel, she bent her knees to support her elbows, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed.

Where was Tate when she needed him? Didn’t he realize she hadn’t come home? Maybe he was still in court. Maybe she’d finally driven him away with her sharp tongue and her stubborn, rebellious behavior. She tried once again in fervent desperation to force her heart to accept him, but her soul cried out in protest, begging for Liam. Flooded with anger, whether justified or not, she mentally railed at her angel.
Where are you? If you truly loved me, if the love we shared in that journal was one bit real, then you never would have allowed this to happen to me!

Minutes passed, but could have been hours for as long as she sat there, her body racked with breath-hitching sobs. Olivia cried until her head grew light, her stuttering gasps refusing to let enough oxygen into her air-starved lungs. She wasn’t certain how, but she knew Haden was there even before the soft knock sounded on the door. When she didn’t respond, the door knob rattled beside her ear.

“Olivia?”

The deep timbre of his voice lacked the impatient inflection she knew to be his. If it had been anyone else on the other side of that door, she would have sworn she heard a note of regret. “Open the door, Olivia.” Although his words were no less commanding, his tone was concerned.

When she didn’t comply, he exhaled a sigh that sounded a lot like defeat. The door reverberated against her back as his weight pressed against it. The rasp of cloth against wood scraped down the length of it as if, he too, had taken up a similar position as she.

“You are not a female inclined to such emotional outbursts. Why are you crying, Olivia? In the past, I’ve done far worse to you than this, and never have you shed a tear.”

Emotional outbursts? Was that what he thought this was? Was that supposed to make her feel better, or was this truly a pathetic attempt to understand why she was so upset. Could it be possible that he was so emotionally clueless, so war-hardened, that he couldn’t see how terrifying this was for her? Whatever the reason, he was sitting on the other side of this door and at the current moment, she had his ear and would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

“I’m crying because you frighten me, Haden. I want to go home. And I want my memory back. I want Liam back.” It was risky to court his wrath by mentioning Liam’s name, but with Haden pushing his boundaries, and after this morning, she felt it prudent to remind him with whom her heart truly lies. Whether there be any attraction between them, real or imagined, she was in love with Liam and it was important he understand that. “You have no idea what it’s like to have your heart ache every day for someone that’s never coming back,” she confessed between broken sobs.

“Know me so well, do you?”

His response surprised her enough that he caught her full attention. “Don’t I?” she asked, all but challenging him to prove her wrong.

In the silent seconds that passed between them, she hoped—no, she prayed—he’d give her a reason to believe in him, a glimmer of hope that he was anything but the sadistic, self-serving bastard he’d have her believe him to be.

A dull thud and an exhaled sigh echoing on the other side of the door would be her only answer to the contrary. “Perhaps you’re right and I know nothing of loss.” His words were spoken so softly, she wasn’t certain they’d been meant for her ears. The scuffle against the door announced he was standing. With the returning edge in his voice, he announced, “You have twenty minutes to shower and see to your needs. After that, if you’re not out of there and ready to go, I’m coming in after you,” leaving her with zero doubt his threat was true.