Courting Darkness (30 page)

“Excuse me,” he murmured to her all polite-like, ducking out of the room and Olivia’s sight.

Her feet had a mind of their own and were quick on his heels, but not fast enough. She stepped into the hall just in time to see a blonde with those stereotypical shoulder-length curls throw herself into Liam’s arms. He caught her with a friendly, deep-throated chuckle and picked her up in a God-I’ve-missed-you hug, spinning her around in a circle. The woman’s dress flared out in an arch of pale yellow satin and billows of white petticoats, all hemmed with delicate lace.

She squealed one more time, as if he’d hugged her too hard, laughing as he set her back on the floor. “It’s great to see you, Rebecca. You’re as lovely as ever.”

Her hand self-consciously flew up to her hair. Of course, not a strand was out of place, and Olivia had the insane urge to correct that.

“Henry said you brought a guest?”

Obviously, the woman didn’t see her standing several paces behind Liam. Not a surprise, considering she hadn’t taken her baby blues off Olivia’s angel. Thinking she might be sick, she turned around to march back into her room and give these two “friends” their privacy.

“I did,” Liam answered. Fabric shifted behind her and before she could duck into her room, Liam called to her, halting her retreat. “Rebecca, this is Olivia.”

Certain she looked worse than she felt, which was about one step below dog shit, Olivia begrudgingly pasted a smile on her face and slowly turned to face the two. She didn’t expect the smile that greeted her to be so…genuine? She’d been prepared for that rival glint in the woman’s eyes and the falsetto grin that said “Back off, bitch. He’s mine—” much like the look that was probably on her face right now.

But Rebecca’s smile didn’t falter, the epitome of southern hospitality this one was. She did, however, reach up and knock Liam in the arm with the back of her knuckles and whisper in her sweet southern drawl, “My laurd, Liam, isn’t she jist gorgeous.”

Clearly, Olivia’s hearing was failing her, because she could have sworn that woman just called her gorgeous—not quite the welcome she’d been expecting. Before she could respond, the woman marched past Liam, her skirts rustling stiffly as she approached. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’m shoure.”

Olivia stared stupidly for a moment, taking in the site of the buxom blonde, who was, by the way, stunning. Rebecca’s waist-slimming corset and gravity-defining bustier left Olivia wondering how the woman was even breathing. Any kind acknowledgement was stuck somewhere between the lump in Olivia’s throat and the bile in her gut. Was this woman for real?

“Olivia?” Concern laced Liam’s voice as he stepped toward her, snapping her out of her speechless stare-down.

“I’m fine, Liam,” she said, hold up her hand to stave him off. “It’s just been a long day.” Making eye contact with Rebecca, she forced another smile and said, “I apologize for seeming rude. Thank you for letting me stay at your lovely home. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t think that a’tall, darlin’. You must be exhausted, poor thing. Please, rest some, while supper cooks. Henry will fetch ya when it’s time to eat.” Turning back to Liam, Rebecca slipped her arm through his and held on tightly while she batted her baby blues up at him. “Meanwhile, you can tell me just where the heck you’ve been hidin’ yourself.”

Liam looked over the blonde’s head, his violet gaze darting over to Olivia. To his credit, he didn’t appear overly eager to leave her alone. But then his statement in the bedroom came back to mind, rifling her nerves.
“When we’re here, I’m your guardian and you’re my mortal.”

“Are there any other warriors staying here right now?” he asked Rebecca, seeming undecided about leaving her.

“No. Not currently. Of course, you know they come and they go,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand. “It’s all right, Liam, she’s perfectly safe here,” Rebecca teased, leading him a step down the hall. “Your mortal needs some rest.”

His mortal could speak for herself, fuck you very much.

Despite Rebecca’s persistence, Liam’s gaze remained fixed, watching her intently as if unsure what to do—go or stay. Well, she’d make things easy for him, fatigue fueling the flame her temper had sparked. It was a good thing he couldn’t feel her emotions, because right now, she was sporting a hell of a lot of jealousy and a healthy dose of pissed off.

“Go on,” she snipped tartly. Interpretation: Don’t leave me. “Your
mortal’s
tired.” Interpretation: How dare you reduce our relationship to guardian/mortal status. Mocking in a sickly-sweet southern drawl, she snipped, “My, she’s plum tuckered out after keeping up with your vigorous pace last night.” Interpretation: Especially after the intimacy we’ve shared.

Until this moment, Olivia wasn’t certain angels were capable of blushing—guess so. He cast a sheepish glance to the floor, as if not quite sure how to respond to her snarky innuendo.

Rebecca, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. “Liam,” she gasped, “now don’t be tellin’ me you’ve been hard on this sweet thing.”

His color darkened and Olivia bit her lip to hold in the unexpected laugh that earned her a warning “not funny” glower. Oh, he’d been hard on her all right, just not in the way this very proper, naïve southern belle was thinking. By her doe-eyed glances up at Liam, it was clear the thought had yet to occur to the woman that there might be more than guardianship going on between Olivia and her angel.

She sensed no feminine rivalry in her host, but that didn’t mean the woman didn’t have feelings for Liam, she just didn’t consider Olivia a threat. She clearly held great affection for him, to what extent was yet to be determined.

“I’ll see you at supper,” she said to neither one in particular, and turned away, retreating to her room before she said something to earn her more than a warning look of displeasure.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Olivia woke to the soft knock on her door. She wasn’t aware she’d fallen asleep, having taken to the surprisingly soft bed to brood and lick her emotional wounds. It worried her that her memories were not returning yet. How many hours had passed since they’d arrived? Lifting her head, she did a quick scan around the room. Not finding a clock, she glanced out the window. The last remnants of a setting sun gave the sky the most beautiful violet and pink backdrop. If she had to guess, it was after five. They probably had another hour of daylight, tops.

The knock sounded again, polite, a little hesitant—of course, Henry. He was probably here to “fetch” her for supper. As if on cue, her belly gave a complaining growl, but she wasn’t sure she could stomach watching that woman fawn over Liam for an entire meal. Clearly, those two had history, but Olivia was his present, and if Liam wasn’t willing to lay some boundaries down here, then she would.

Rolling off the bed, she padded across the room and pulled the door open just as the knocking started back up for a third time. “I’ll be down in a minute, Henry.” But it wasn’t Henry filling her doorway. No, her doorway was filled with a towering angel whose violet eyes darkened a shade closer to amethyst when they lit on her.

Just the sight of him heated Olivia’s blood, melting her pique and stirring a very wanton need deep in her core. Images of last night filled her mind, taking up the space that was meant for her memories, releasing a flood of desire and new sensations she wasn’t used to feeling, and honestly, wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

She felt like an emotional pendulum and the instability of so many things in her life nearly brought her to tears. Had she ever wanted something as much as she did this male standing before her? Yet, so much between them was uncertain, unspoken—undecided. Would her memories, if they ever returned, draw them closer together or, as he feared, drive a greater wedge between them? She’d been so confident earlier, so sure that nothing could separate them, but in truth, she wasn’t sure of anything—not anymore.

Liam frowned, dark brows wrinkling in concern. He cast a quick glance down the hall. All must have been clear, because he stepped inside. Hands cupping her face, he tipped her chin to meet her eyes. Olivia’s vision blurred with unshed tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Then, as if struck with a dreadful thought, he rushed, “You’re remembering, aren’t you?” He hissed an oath that sounded more like a deep growl.

“No. It’s not that. I still can’t remember a damn thing—”

“Then, what is it?”

Seriously? He didn’t know? “Liam, you’ve taken me to the home of your ex-girlfriend, who obviously still has some un-dealt-with feelings for you. Look, I understand you had a life before me. I mean, you’ve gotta be like… What? How old are you?”

“Old.” His blunt response left no indication he intended to elaborate.

“Can’t you see how coming here would be a problem for me? I think I at least deserved the courtesy of a head’s up on this one.”

He leaned back and there was no mistaking the surprised look on his handsome face that quickly hardened to ire.

Yep. Busted...
“I just want to know, at what point were you going to tell me about you and Rebecca?”

“I wasn’t.”

“What?” She tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened.

“I wasn’t going to tell you because there isn’t anything to tell. Nothing’s going on between me and Rebecca. We’re friends. Good friends. That’s it.”

Had Olivia had her wits about her, she would have let it go right there. She was about to discover the quickest way to piss off an angel was to insult his integrity. But the image of that petite, busty blonde hanging on Liam’s arm was permanently burned into her retinas.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he verily growled.

That sounded more like an accusation than a bid for an apology.

He let her go and spun away in frustration, pacing in front of her. Then he abruptly stopped, locking his intense gaze on her. “I don’t feel like this is something I should have to prove to you, Olivia.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was being totally unfair to him, but dammit, she needed some absolutes in her life, and right now, he was the only anchor she had.

“Firstly, the fact that I said there is nothing going on between Rebecca and me belays the truth. I. Can’t. Lie. Second of all, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now if you had your memory back.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” she cut in.

“Because in your mind, you’re humanizing me, Olivia, and that’s not the way I’m put together. I don’t think like that. And I certainly don’t have relationships in the context you’re referring. You are the exception in my life, the filter through which every decision I make is made.”

The breath she’d taken, fueling up for a rebuttal, died on her lips in an exhale of defeat. How in the hell could she argue with that? Now it was her turn to close the distance. Olivia moved forward and threw her arms around his neck. Hugging him tightly, she whispered an apology, silently sending up a prayer of thanks when he didn’t pull away.

After a few tense seconds, his rigid muscles softened a touch, and he bent to meet her halfway, his own arms wrapping around her back, enveloping her in a cocoon of warm, muted spices that soothed her gnarled nerves. There was no resistance in him when she tugged him closer. Rising to her tip-toes, she lifted her head and brushed her lips across the grim line of his mouth. “I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I’m such a mess right now. With everything that’s happened lately… I’m just… I’m not myself.”

The exhale that teased her lips sounded as defeated as her own had been a few short minutes ago. “I love you, Olivia.” The husky growl of his voice was low and possessive as he took her mouth in a hungry kiss that obliterated any doubt that he unequivocally belonged to her. His mouth claimed hers with a mounting fever that shattered all sense of reason, all sense of propriety, all sense of where they were standing—with the door hanging wide open.

She urgently met the thrust of his tongue, intimately tangling and retreating. Invading again, each time with mounting desperation to taste more, to touch more, to take more... Olivia wasn’t about to stop him, not when the intimate places known only to Liam began to ache with renewed need. Slipping her hands under his shirt, she rode the ridges of his abdomen up to his pecks before sliding around to trace the muscular map of his back.

His answering low throaty groan was more like a hungry growl, as if he couldn’t be bothered to break their kiss long enough to warn her they were entering dangerous territory—and breaking his guardian/mortal rule—which was nothing but an unnecessary hindrance, if anyone asked her. To make her point and hopefully convince him to take this heated kiss four feet to the right and onto the velvet down-filled comforter, she dropped her palm to the front of his hip and slid it to the arousal straining to be free of its zipper-clad prison.

Who knows if it ever would have found freedom, because the precise moment that masculine chortle rumbled in his chest, a startled gasp filled the doorway behind them. Liam instantly tensed, his head snapping up so fast, her tooth nicked his bottom lip. He spun around before she could see the damage, meeting the startled, flushed face of Rebecca’s butler.

The man’s eyes instantly dropped to the floor, whether from embarrassment or in respect for their interrupted moment of privacy, she couldn’t tell—probably both. Henry stammered out an apology as he backed out of the doorway.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Liam graciously supplied. “We’ll be down for supper in a few minutes.”

Seeming relieved at the dismissal, the man gave them a deep bow and hastened away. Liam whispered a curse under his breath, his arm rising to drag a hand through his hair. Turning toward her, his tongue skated over the crimson stain on his lip, wiping away the evidence of their interrupted kiss. Flecks of sapphire still burned in his violet gaze. Neither of them spoke as they stood there exchanging a wordless conversation.

“Would it be so bad if they knew?” She tried not to let her mind go where it was trying to take her. Down the path of “You’re not good enough,” and “He’s embarrassed to be with you”—funny, how someone’s insecurities could play havoc with their perceptions of reality.