Embrace the Night (26 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Embrace the Night
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Unfortunately, her years in med school, internships, and residencies meant she could picture the crime scenes he'd described all too clearly. Her heart ached for the young man who'd had to go through that with someone he loved. Who had to live with the weight of responsibility riding his shoulders. Gods, what a nightmare.
She imagined any man, especially a cop, would have felt some guilt over what happened, but Merek's clairvoyance made his guilt that much more oppressive. She didn't know how he'd lived through it and made it out sane. He was possibly the strongest person she'd ever known. And one of the kindest, most considerate, and most compassionate.
The man confused her. He was a study in contradictions, all of which she found fascinating. He made her feel what she didn't want to, which scared the crap out of her, and he also made her feel safer than she had in her entire life. Even with terrorists chasing them down, ready to torture her or Alex for the information locked in their heads.
No. Just no.
A sigh slid out, and she grimaced when she sipped her awful excuse for coffee. The instant stuff was just offensive to her sensibilities. No self-respecting Seattleite should ever have to touch this crap. She took another swig, and felt the caffeine start to kick in even as the acidic liquid burned her belly.
She tensed when she heard the doorknob, but relaxed when the voices in her head gave a reassuring whisper and she felt the easing of the shield spells around the apartment. Merek. Anyone else would have to breach the spell; only he and she and Alex could pass through it without incredible magical energy expended or harm coming to them.
Setting her coffee on the table, she resisted the urge to throw herself at him when he came in the door and make sure he was uninjured. He knew how to take care of himself. She had no doubts about that. So instead of wringing her hands like an idiotic weakling, she picked up the gun as he walked in and she carried it with her as she went to the kitchen to make him a cup of the nasty tar. He was as addicted as she and Alex were, so any coffee was better than no coffee. She hoped he'd remembered to get some real stuff at the store.
He dropped the bazillion grocery sacks he had looped around his arms on the floor and counter, then accepted the coffee cup she handed him and took a deep swig. She motioned to the revolver she'd placed on the counter. “Mission accomplished?”
“Yep, we're fully loaded. Ammo's in there somewhere, but I had to take the long way to get there and back. Sorry it took so long, but I couldn't risk being followed.” He frowned down at the mug in his hand. “This has honey in it.”
“Yeah, so?” She lifted an eyebrow, digging into the bags and separating out things that required refrigeration.
“You haven't unloaded the bag with the honey in it.” Rifling through the sea of plastic, he came up with a bear-shaped container full of golden liquid.
She shrugged and went back to her sorting. “We ate at Kentucky Fried Chicken when we flew through Lexington, remember? I snagged you a handful of those little honey packets they give out for their biscuits.”
“Ah. Thanks for looking out for me.” He blinked at her, looked down at the coffee, then sipped it again. Something unreadable moved across his expression, but he said nothing more.
The bag holding the milk had another plastic bottle in it. She pulled it out and stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment. Massage oil and lubricant in one.
“For later.” Merek's low rumble made heat pool in her belly. He bent forward to nip at the lower curve of her ass, and she jolted in shock. Her nipples tightened, her sex dampening as all the erotic possibilities raced through her mind of what he might have planned for her. Then he snagged the small bottle from her hand and stuffed it in his pocket just before Alex came out of his room with a technical manual dangling from his fingers.
A hot blush washed up her cheeks, and she gave them a weak smile.
Alex and Merek greeted each other with manly slaps on the back, and Merek sent her a look that promised all manner of wicked things when the wolf turned away to drop his book and start helping.
“Hey, check this out.” Alex rummaged around in a bulging shopping bag.
“What?” She peered around his shoulder to watch him unload one night-light after another until over a dozen were lined up along the counter.
Most of them were plain old night-lights, but a few of them were truly hideous. One was shaped like a deer carved into a fake log, another looked like a plastic moose's head, and another was made out of what might have once been a pinecone. The last was a deformed seashell. With glitter. She picked that one up with the very tips of her thumb and forefinger and held it out as if it were something smelly. “What is
this,
exactly?”
Merek arched his brows and shrugged, but a grin broke through. “Hey, I cleaned out the store. The other options were scented, and I figured if we mixed six of those with a werewolf nose in the house, he might vomit on us as payback.”
“Thanks. Really. I mean that.” Alex's voice was fervent as he yanked the wrapping off of each light. “Thank you.”
Chloe snorted, but had to turn away to hide the tears welling in her eyes. She stuffed the refrigerated items into the fridge and freezer, blinking until the moisture was gone. Alex knew she liked lights on at night, and Merek knew exactly why she was terrified of the dark, and neither of them thought she was a wimp.
And Merek . . . He was controlled, but not controlling. He didn't try to control
them.
He accepted them just as they were, and controlled all the details around them to make sure they had everything they needed. Alex's werewolf need to Change at full moon was just another detail. Merek wasn't annoyed by it, didn't act pissed off by the inconvenience. He just handled it.
Now that he knew she was afraid of the dark and why, he didn't try to talk her out of it, try to reason with her or tell her to grow up and get over it; he just went out and bought her an entire store's worth of night-lights.
That was the moment, right there, that she fell all the way in love with him. She'd been fighting it, avoiding it, and ignoring it for days now, but that did it. She loved him. Completely, utterly loved him.
She just had no idea what she could do about it. After what he'd told her about his wife, she couldn't imagine that he'd ever want to deal with loving anyone ever again. Not when it meant he also had to deal with the fact that he couldn't see her future and any bad things coming down the pipeline. That was assuming he even felt some of this wrenching, terrifying, wonderful emotion that was threatening to consume her soul.
The worst part was, she wasn't even sure she could blame him for not wanting any part of this. No one understood better than she did that some wounds just never healed, some fears could never be overcome. And if you couldn't fix it, you just had to live with it any way you could. Merek wasn't asking her to change, so how could she try to force him to live with his worst nightmare permanently?
She couldn't.
The rest of the evening passed in a daze. She barely noticed when Alex pushed all the furniture in the living room against one wall, Merek set up a force field so they didn't break anything or make noise that would disturb the neighbors, and the two practiced close quarters combat. The television show they watched after made both males howl with laughter, but she stared into space petting a purring Ophelia.
Her thoughts ricocheted around in her mind until she wanted to scream. She couldn't even talk to anyone about it, especially not Merek. If she were home, she'd have Millie and Tess to ask for advice, but as it stood, she was totally alone in a sea of maleness that either wouldn't want to know or wouldn't get what she was going through. Gods, this sucked. It hurt. It hurt to love someone and have to keep it locked inside. It hurt to have to protect someone from the most amazing thing she'd ever experienced.
The TV program ended so she kissed Alex good night and wandered into the bathroom to brush her teeth before bed. When she bent forward to spit out the toothpaste, she saw Merek reflected in the mirror behind her, and she damn near choked on her toothbrush.
Waiting for her to finish with her coughing fit, he propped his broad shoulder on the doorjamb, Ophelia draped across one brawny forearm, purring while he stroked her. “Something's on your mind, sweetheart.”
Too many somethings. A flush sped up her cheeks, and she rinsed her toothbrush off, set it aside, and splashed cool water on her face. Unaccustomed nerves jangled inside her. Crossing such a huge threshold in her heart, and having to do it alone, suddenly froze her with terror. How did she act around him now? How did she keep him from noticing? He was the most observant man she'd ever known. He never missed anything about her, not a hitch in her breathing, a sigh, a change of mood. He watched, he listened, and he cared.
And she loved him for it.
“Is this about yesterday?” His gaze shuttered, his expression going blank.
It took a moment for the question to process, and she yanked her mind from her own issues and focused on him. She turned to face him. “No, this isn't about yesterday, or anything you said.”
“You sure?” His gaze moved over her, but no emotion showed there. “You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.” A tiny smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “I can take it.”
A repeat of her own words that had kicked off the discussion of his precognition and his wife. She let a laugh huff out and pushed away from the vanity. Taking Ophelia from his arms, she set the familiar on the ground. “Go play in the living room, sugar.”
The cat darted away, and Chloe stepped into Merek's embrace. Her heart turned over when his strong arms immediately closed around her, and she buried her nose against his warm chest, inhaling the scent of him and sweat and the lingering smell of laundry soap on his shirt.
“I know you can handle anything.” But then he might feel obligated if she dumped her feelings all over him. The only thing worse than being in love alone was being the object of pity from the person you loved. Her belly lurched at the thought. No. No, she wouldn't do that to him, wouldn't cling or revert to her old childhood neediness. He deserved better than that, and so did she. She sighed, pressed her hands to his chest, and gazed up at him. “This isn't something you need to handle. I can figure it out on my own, but I appreciate the offer to listen more than you know.”
He didn't look happy with that, just as he'd been displeased any other time she'd withheld information from him, but he gave a reluctant nod. “Just remember, you don't have to go through anything alone right now, Chloe. I'm here to make sure you're all right. I can't do that effectively if you don't tell me when something is wrong.”
How she kept the tears from welling up in her eyes, she'd never know, but instead she managed a smile for him. “When something is
wrong,
I'll let you know. I have some stuff to figure out, but nothing is wrong. I promise.”
Things were far too right, and that's where she hit her current snag. His hands stroked up and down her back, and his gaze searched her face. A spurt of alarm darted through her. He would know if he looked too deep. Of course he would. He was Merek.
Time for a distraction.
Rising up on tiptoe, she brushed her lips over his chin, his jaw. “Kiss me, Merek. Take my mind off of things.”
“I can't believe I'm saying this.” He leaned down and feathered a kiss over her mouth. “But I'd rather you tell me what you need your mind taken off of.”
She smiled against his lips, running her tongue along the curve of the bottom one. “My mind is always on you. And bad men. And you. And you when you're being a bad man.”
His arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against all of those hard angles. He kissed her hard once, twice. “I'm always good.”
“Prove it.” She arched her back, rubbed herself against the steely length of his erection, and felt the insidious heat begin to leech the strength out of her muscles. Her body molded itself to his, her nipples beaded to chafe against the soft satin of her bra.
Shifting her around until the doorjamb pressed into her back, he pinned her there while he swooped in for a thorough kiss that had her up on her tiptoes again to get closer. His tongue swept into her mouth, and his honeyed flavor made her moan. The man was addicting, and she never wanted to get enough. She wanted him forever. Their tongues mated, twined, dancing until their breathing was ragged. She cupped his jaw in her palms, wanting to show him with actions how much she craved him, needed him,
loved
him. Everything she couldn't say out loud, she put into that kiss.
Renewed magic shivered beneath her skin, waiting to be tapped. She let it loose, let the heat and longing she felt pour from her to him. Her need was returned to her in a throbbing echo of his magic, the hot male thrum of it seeping into her very bones. Her sex went slick with juices, her nipples so tight they ached for the feel of his hands on them.

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