Eternally Bound: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (21 page)

The metal handle was cool against her fingers as she slid the door open. Thankfully, it was well-oiled and moved silently along its rails. Poking her head through the small opening, she eyed the entire length of the moonlit deck before stepping out into the balmy night. All was quiet. The pitch-black sky overhead was blanketed with a sea of stars so vast it rivaled the twinkling of the moon off the surface of the water stretching out before the ship. If she hadn’t been scooting across the deck in the middle of an emergency, she would have sank down into the nearest cushioned deck chair and slipped back into her dreams under those stars.

But nooo! Instead of enjoying the relaxing atmosphere, the lull of the waves, the pearlescent glow of the moon, she had to kick someone’s ass tonight for breaking into her apartment.

Kneeling down, she peeked through the far deck door into the dim living room.

“Oh, you just wait,” she ground out between clenched teeth, her spiking temper directed at the dark shadow easing into the guest bedroom. Her head cocked sideways in surprise when the shadow reappeared and moved toward her closed bedroom door.

She eased the glass door open a crack, thankful for the lack of sea breeze. The last thing she needed was for the drapes to billow and warn the bastard of his impending ass-kicking.

The second his head disappeared through the opening of her bedroom door, the living room pane slid all the way open and Chrysalyn flew toward the encroacher on silent feet.

The closer she got to the shadow, the more it stretched toward the high ceilings. It was a man, and whoever he was, he was tall and well-built. Fine, she’d just have to take him down hard and fast. Damn it, now she wished she’d asked Adonei for his strength instead of just his exceptional sight. But she didn’t have time for that now.

With a well-aimed kick at the common peroneal nerve running along the intruder’s right leg, she struck out with all her strength. In a fraction of a second, the leg went numb and buckled, unable to support the man’s weight. As he went down, a solid uppercut connected with his jaw, followed by a lightning-fast left to the mouth. But before she could finish him, Chrysalyn found herself wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs, and heading swiftly toward a meeting with the hardwood floor. The intruder rolled with her until the legs of the coffee table blocked their progress, with him on top. Damn.

She looked up into a handsome face a mere three inches from her own. Holy shit! Even in the dark, there was no mistaking the perpetrator’s identity. After three years apart, there still wasn’t another male who looked like this. Felt like this. Smelled like this.

“Rahn!” she gasped, from both shock and exertion. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“At the moment, I’m bleeding. How are you, Chrysalyn?”

Oooh, and his voice was still dead sexy. Double damn!

* * * * *

“Rahn? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, now that you’ve asked so sweetly,” he huffed sarcastically, a bit winded by their tussle. At least his leg was beginning to get the feeling back. Ow! His ribs hurt too. She’d kicked the shit out of him. He took as deep a breath as he was able, and said, “I have a case to close in Rome. Since the ship was headed there anyway, Geri thought I might enjoy a little holiday first. It’s been awhile since the last one.”

“Vacation? Here? With me?” The woman was practically screeching. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was nervous about him sharing the huge apartment. He’d have to ask his spirit guide about it later. Man, she felt good underneath him. Time to move before he gave away just
how
good she felt. Rolling away, he immediately missed the warmth of her body.

“This is the company’s apartment. With three bedrooms and a couple thousand square feet, it’s more than big enough. Our boss figured you wouldn’t mind.”

On his feet now, Rahn headed for the nearest couch. A glance over his shoulder made his body shudder. The woman was still spread-eagled on her back. Her itty-bitty nightshirt didn’t cover much, bunched up just below her sex as it was. He cocked his head and spoke silently to his spirit guide.

‘Mahpiya, lend me your senses.’

Immediately, the lioness’s gifts flooded into him. Ooh, big mistake. He tightened his thigh muscles, trying to keep from coming on the spot when his eyesight sharpened and Mahpiya’s sharp sense of smell flooded through his body until it became his own. His eyes took in the sleek, smooth length of Chrysalyn’s lovely legs. His nose told him she lay sprawled on the floor, minus any kind of panties. The scent of her pussy wafted through the air and practically sucked all the common sense right out of his head. Sweet, deliciously sensual, her scent was reminiscent of honeysuckle and dark red wine.

“Shit,” he grumbled, realizing the couch wasn’t nearly far enough away from her. He eased toward a chair clear across the huge room. He flopped down into the overstuffed cushions, snatched a pillow from behind his head and smashed it down over a suddenly painful erection. Where the hell had the hard-on from hell come from?

*
Did you not ask for my aid, my charge?*

‘Oh shut it, Mahpiya,’ he quipped at his psychic companion. Damned cat had no mercy.

*
Do not be angry with me, youngling. I gave you just what you asked for. ‘Tis no fault of mine you received more than you bargained for.
*

Then she laughed! How the hell did a lioness laugh anyway? Damn it, she was supposed to be his spirit guide, not his tormenter.

*
You torment yourself, young one
.*

Rahn was thankful when she retreated into a small corner of his mind to nap. But not before she sent a genuinely amused and toothy grin through their psychic bond. Damned cat.

Chrys’ words broke through his thoughts. “So, why are you going to Rome?”

His eyes were drawn toward the lovely body projecting the silky voice across the room. Lifting his head, he glanced her way. Shit, she was still on the floor, only now her arms were crossed behind her head as she looked toward the clear glass doors that led out to the deck.

“Rahn? Did you hear me?”

Hell no, he hadn’t heard her. He was too busy trying to drown out the blood rushing through his ears as it streaked toward his dick.

“What did you say? My head hurts from the pounding you did on it. Hard to focus,” he lied—about the focus part, not about the pounding. He watched her roll up from the floor and stomp her way to the chair across from him. She flopped down in it, completely nonplussed, comfortable in her practically bare skin and obviously unaware how delicious she looked.

“I asked what you’re going to be doing in Rome, Rahn,” she said.

Okay, time to get his head together to make this lie sound convincing. As much as he hated to tell her half-truths, if the woman ever found out the nature of the case he was on his way to solve, he’d never be able to keep her nose out of it.

“There have been a string of murders there. They seem to be centered around a certain area. The international police have asked us to look into it for them. Less complicated if we investigate the matter, since our organization flies well below the radar.” The last few words were said with a grunt as he shifted on the chair and tried to rearrange his cock in his pants.

“So,” he gasped as his fingers wrapped around his raging hard-on, pushing it to the left. “How’s that gorgeous cousin of yours?”

“Delaine? She’s fine. Getting married soon.”

Now that snapped him and his cock to attention. Delaine Jeris was getting remarried? Whoever had landed that beauty was a lucky man. Rahn was glad she’d finally let go of that idiot she’d been married to for so long and moved on. Everyone in their agency had been tempted to help the asshole have a little accident after word got around about what he’d done to Delaine. If their boss, Geri, hadn’t expressly forbade any late-night ass-kickings for the man, he would have been nothing but a pile of sore bones for ages to come.

“She met someone soon after she moved out to Charlotte,” Chrysalyn said, her voice somewhat wispy, as if she longed for something. But she was getting married herself. So why did she sound so…forlorn?

“Speaking of married,” Rahn said quietly, watching her closely. “You’ve been engaged for a while now. When is your big date?”

As quickly as she’d sat down, she was back on her feet. Back stiff with what could only be a major case of ticked off, she stomped across the floor, into her bedroom and slammed a solid wood door on him without a word.

“Well, hell, that didn’t go as planned,” he grumbled to himself.

Mahpiya’s powerful presence surged to the forefront of his mind until he could see the outline of her majestic feline form just behind his eyes.

*
Do not fret, my charge. It is not your fault. She is lonely
.*

“Lonely?” What the hell kind of sense did that make? The woman was getting married. How could she be lonely?

*
She is lonely because she is not getting married. She is alone and in need of comfort.
*

His eyebrows rose so fast, surely they would fly off his face and hit the ceiling. With narrowed eyes and more than a bit of serious curiosity, he practically growled at his psychic companion.

“How do you know she’s not getting married, Mahpiya?”

Rahn sent utter shock resonating down the bond he shared with Mahpiya. He rolled his eyes in frustration as the image of the majestic lioness, lying in a comfortable heap licking her huge paws, faded from behind his eyes without answering his question.

* * * * *

The ship was underway on the three-day sail from Lisbon to the Balearic Islands in the south of Spain. It meant hunting on board until they made port. He didn’t particularly care for it. There weren’t enough dim or dark nooks to hide, which meant there just weren’t as many opportunities to genuinely enjoy stalking his prey.

His breathing quickened at the remembered thought of how the last woman had looked over her shoulder, her body stiff with fear when she’d realized that someone followed her. He’d stalked her for the entire time they’d been in port in Lisbon, all ten days. Each evening she’d walked from the middle of town to a small flat. Each night, her apprehension had grown more and more acute until he’d thought he might be able to reach out and eat a piece of it.

His cock swelled as his mind conjured the wide-eyed dread etched across her lovely features when he’d finally shown himself. He’d known the exact second she realized her life approached its end. Her last gasp, the last thump of her heart had brought with it such a heady rush of adrenaline, accompanied by a high so consuming he felt it down to his shoelaces. And he craved it again, would have it again.

Eden moved quietly through his bedroom to the closet where he gently stroked the black silk he so loved to wear. It never showed the blood and cleaned up nicely.

At sea, there were no pretty little females to follow through the darkness of the night or stalk from dark alleys. No overconfident, swaggering young men to approach in the gathering dark. No matter. There were plenty of people who considered themselves high class, and too good to mate with the men in his harem. It would be easy to keep his skills sharpened on them. He would simply practice on a hand-picked pawn aboard ship. After all, it was the sole reason they were on board, for his pleasure.

“At it again, I hear,” he mumbled to himself with a shake of his head and gently closed the bedroom door at the first screech of his harem mistress’s voice. She was no doubt on the case of one of the men again, scolding in a tone she never, ever used with him. Then again, she may be scolding them all.

“You will say nothing to our master,” her hard voice practically cut the air around her. “I am responsible for all of you and this is not outside the realm of my authority. I will deal with it,” said the lovely Egyptian female who called him “Beloved”. She was indeed responsible for the harem. In spite of her tendency to dominate those she was supposed to care for, she’d said nothing that caused him concern. Eden ignored the conversation. Whatever the issue, let her deal with it.

Dressed in severe black, the only break in the darkness around his body was a crisp, blinding white silk handkerchief expertly tucked into the top pocket of his dinner jacket. Clasping an onyx cufflink onto the sleeve of his black shirt, Eden made his way through the living room and over to his most prized possessions to make sure all was well before he stepped out for the evening.

They were sullen, but otherwise unharmed. Eden picked them up one by one and allowed them to touch his mind, speak to him about their troubles. First was the porcelain, bronze-skinned male he called Shaman. A prized Native American warrior, with a body so perfectly sculpted even he would have been tempted if the man were flesh and blood. He was beautiful, standing at almost twenty-four-inches tall, with perfect porcelain skin and jet black hair down to his solid waist. And as usual, the first thoughts he shared with his master were of how much he resented having to bow to the whims of a temperamental female harem mistress, no matter how exquisite.

After a few assuring words, Eden put Shaman back on the shelf and reached for the next work of perfection.

Celon was a blond-haired Viking if there ever was one. A little shorter than Shaman, he stood at twenty-three inches of porcelain perfection. Dressed in classic Norwegian garb reminiscent of the early ninth century, he sported a wide muscular chest, a narrow waist and thick legs. His expression was one of seduction. His creator must have been a female. Even one painted eyebrow was raised in invitation and one side of his perfect mouth tilted up into a sly smile. He was a predator, plain and simple. Yes, he was Eden’s favorite.

After listening to Celon’s short, clipped complaint about the pharaoh harem mistress, Eden smiled at the man as a final thought slipped into his mind. Celon wanted nothing more than to fuck the harem mistress silly until she gladly got on her knees and begged him to take her. Poetic justice, since that was her favorite position for all ten males in the harem—on their knees before her.