First Rapture (The Rapture Series) (9 page)

“I love you, Maddy.”

The hazel eyes widened, her shock tangible in the close confines of the car. “You can’t,” she breathed.

He lifted his brows. “I can’t?”

She gave a restless shrug. “You barely know me.”

Luc gave a laugh at her ridiculous words.

“I’ve known you all my life,” he reminded her, able to recall the precise minute he’d glanced down the hall of their school to see those big, beautiful hazel eyes focused on him. At the time he hadn’t understood why he’d felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. Or why he’d always checked the stands before he jogged onto the football field to make sure she was seated in her familiar spot. He’d always been aware that she was a constant backdrop in his life. “I know you have a generous heart despite the hardships you were forced to endure, you have endless courage, and an independent spirit that I deeply admire.” His fingers slid out of her hair to lightly trace the line of her stubborn jaw. “Everything else we’ll discover during our future together.”

She shivered beneath his light caress, but she made no protest to pull away. “Future?”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. “A very long future.”

Her hands lifted to lie against his chest, her breath coming in tiny pants between her parted lips.

“Are you asking me to…” She had to stop to clear her throat. “To marry you?”

He pulled back with a wry smile.

He didn’t blame her for the disbelief in her expression.

Hell, his own mother would be shocked when he confessed he was ready to give up his bachelor days and take a wife.

And his father…

No. He gave a shake of his head.

He wasn’t anything like his father.

He only needed one woman to make him happy.

“Eventually,” he hedged, not wanting to terrify her into bolting. “First I just want the opportunity to prove I’m no longer that stupid kid who hurt you.” He cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his pleading gaze. “Will you give me a chance?”

“I…” His heart halted as she hesitated, panicked by the thought she might say no. Dammit. He was going to lock her in his bedroom until she accepted he’d never meant to hurt her.

Then, without warning, her hazel eyes warmed with an emotion that sent hope sizzling through his body. “Yes.”

A dizzying relief exploded through Luc. “Thank god.” Framing her face in his hands, he covered her lips in a desperate kiss, nipping her full bottom lip in punishment for terrifying him. He moaned as she readily melted against him, his erection thickening as he wrapped his arms around her. His tongue dipped into the warm wetness of her mouth, tasting her passion as she grabbed his T-shirt and tried to drag him closer. He growled in frustration as the console kept them separated, the heat of the sun already making the air uncomfortably hot. “Damn…” he muttered, reluctantly lifting his head to study her face that was now flushed with desire. “This car wasn’t made for making love to my woman.”

A tiny smile curved her lips. “Your woman?”

“Mine,” he growled with full male possession.

She kissed the tip of his chin. “I like that.”

So did he.

A lot.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” he demanded, nuzzling a path of kisses down her throat.

She tilted back her head, offering him better access. “When I was seventeen, Kristen stole a bottle of tequila and brought it to the trailer,” she murmured, clearly distracted as his tongue teased the pulse that pounded at the base of her neck.

Luc felt a stab of surprise. Madison had never attended the private parties where there was alcohol. No doubt the example of her mother had taught her the emptiness of trying to find pleasure in a bottle. And in truth, he’d admired her for resisting the peer pressure.

Her respect for her body was far sexier than any amount of trying to impress him.

“You never used to drink in high school,” he said, breathing deep of her vanilla scent.

“Which only made it worse,” she admitted, shivering as he traced the neckline of her top. “After a couple of shots I decided I had to have some tangible proof of my love for you.”

He abruptly straightened, smiling with wicked amusement. “Hmm. I like the sound of that.”

She rolled her eyes. “You would.”

“What was this tangible proof?”

“A tattoo of your name in a heart.”

A tattoo? He was momentarily stunned, then he suddenly recalled the strange smear of makeup he’d noticed last night.

“On your lower back,” he said.

“Yes.”

His hand skimmed down to the spot just above her firm ass. The knowledge that she had his name forever imprinted on her skin was hot as hell.

Of course, as far as he was concerned, there was nothing about this woman that wasn’t hot as hell.

“That explains the makeup.” His hand drifted lower, cupping the firm curve of hip. “I thought you were trying to hide a birthmark.”

She grimaced. “Needless to say, it was the last time I ever drank tequila.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He nodded his head toward the building.

“Wicked Ink is the best tattoo shop in the world at turning mistakes into works of art,” she explained.

It took a minute to realize she meant to have her tattoo turned into some design that disguised his name.

Once he did, he felt a surprising anger at the thought that she’d planned to erase him so thoroughly from her life.

First with her revenge sex, and then with some magical tattoo artist.

“You consider me a mistake,” he said, his voice flat.

She gave a slow nod, reaching up to lightly touch his face. “I did.”

“And now?”

Her finger stroked his lower lip, the gold in her hazel eyes shimmering in the morning sunlight.

“Now I think maybe I’ll keep it.”

He lowered his head to brush her lips with the light promise of a kiss. It was all he dared allow himself when they were in full daylight in the middle of a public parking lot.

“And perhaps I’ll get one that matches yours,” he murmured against her lips.

“A heart on your lower back?” she teased, her hands exploring the rigid muscles of his chest. “Won’t you get beat up at the gym?”

“I don’t care if they put a petunia on my ass just as long as it proves how much I want a second chance,” he assured her.

“You don’t need a petunia,” she assured him, a small smile curving her lips. “Although I’m not opposed to having my name permanently etched onto your body. I want all those women to know you’re mine.”

“I am yours,” he said, his voice rough with sincerity as he buried his face in the curve of her throat. “I’ve always been yours.”

Her arms circled his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his hair. “It’s true, you know.”

He was having a difficult time thinking as he relished the joy that was surging through him.

“What is?”

She whispered directly in his ear. “A woman never forgets her first.”

One year later

Madison stood in front of the newly renovated brick building on the outskirts of Vegas.

Once an abandoned business center, it had been transformed into an afterschool program where kids in need could come for tutoring, a hot meal, clothing, medical care…or just a safe place to be.

Madison smiled. She’d mentioned her dream of helping children whose parents couldn’t, or wouldn’t, properly care for them shortly after her quiet wedding to Luc, and within days he had a building purchased and the first plans drawn up.

At first his driving force had made her head spin, but she’d quickly adjusted, and now they were a true power couple, dividing their time between Vegas and New York. A journey made easy by Luc’s private jet.

Sensing his intense scrutiny, Madison turned her head to meet his dark gaze, her heart giving a familiar leap of joy.

It didn’t seem to matter how many days they spent together, or how many nights they devoted to making love. She never got over the thrill of simply being with this man.

“Well, Ms. Angeli, is it everything you dreamed it would be?” he asked.

“And more.” She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck. “So much more.”

He grasped her waist, tugging her intimately against his body. For today, the Maddy Center was closed for a last inspection. Tomorrow the doors would be opened to the public.

“You’re happy?” he asked softly.

She smiled. “Mr. Angeli, are you fishing for compliments?”

He chuckled, appearing indecently gorgeous in his black chinos and white silk shirt that was left open to offer a glimpse of his bronzed chest.

“If you were in the mood to share a few, I wouldn’t object.”

A heat that had nothing to do with the scorching Nevada sunlight spread through her.

“Actually, I’m in the mood—” Going up on tiptoe, Madison whispered in his ear exactly what she was in the mood to do.

Luc gave low growl, his hands tightening on her waist. “Why, Ms. Angeli, you are a wicked girl.”

She kissed him with all the love that filled her heart. “Just perfect for the Dark Angel,” she murmured.

“Perfect,” he agreed, scooping her into his arms and heading for the waiting car.

THE END

Hello!

I hope you enjoyed Luc and Maddy’s story. I had a wonderful time reuniting the two lovers and providing plenty of spark for your reading pleasure!

Coming December 31, 2013 I have a new series, The Sentinels, that will be hitting the shelves. The series will revolve around people who are ‘gifted’ with special abilities and the warriors who protect them. BORN IN BLOOD is Duncan O’Conner’s story. He’s a hardnosed police detective who requests the services of Callie Brown, a high-blood necromancer, when a young woman is found murdered in her kitchen. Callie’s skill allows her to view the last memories of the dead before the soul leaves the body. Most cops consider it a gruesome talent, but Duncan isn’t so squeamish. Callie has managed to solve a dozen murders over the past five years . Besides, he can’t deny a fascination with the beautiful high-blood. She stirs a passion in him that threatens to consume them both.

And, of course, my BAYOU HEAT series that I write with the fabulous Laura Wright will be continuing! Look for Sebastian/Aristide’s stories coming November 11
th
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Happy reading!!

Alexandra Ivy

Read on for excerpts of BORN IN BLOOD and HUNT THE DARKNESS.

PROLOGUE

Valhalla had always been shrouded in mystery.

Named for the home of the Norse gods, the leaders of the sprawling compound claimed that it was a safe-house for those people too unique to live among normal society.

Of course, everyone knew that was just a polite way of saying that it was a home for freaks.

Witches, psychics, necromancers, Sentinels and God only knew what else roamed the grounds protected by a layer of powerful spells.

For the past century, Valhalla had been a source of fear and fascination throughout the entire world, but most especially for the citizens of the small, Midwest town that could see the shimmer of blue reflecting off the protective dome that hid the buildings from view.

Not surprisingly, there were citizens who called for the entire place to be nuked.

The freaks were dangerous, they insisted, with powers that none of them truly understood. Who knew what the monsters would do if someone pissed them off?

Then there were others that said they should be locked away and studied like lab rats. Perhaps their mutations could be used to help normal people.

Most, however, preferred to ignore Valhalla and the high-bloods...as they preferred to be called...living behind the dome.

Until, of course, they needed them.

CHAPTER 1

Kansas City, KS

Sergeant Duncan O’Conner was late to the party.

Nursing a hangover from hell, he took two painkillers with a gallon of hot coffee and steered his POS cop car through the light Sunday traffic and entered the gated community in the southwest suburbs.

The call had hit his cell phone at three in the afternoon. An hour before he’d hauled his sorry ass out of bed. It’d taken another half hour under the shower to peel his throbbing eyes open and get rid of the stench of cheap whiskey and even cheaper cigars.

His first thought had been to call in and tell them to find someone else. Wasn’t it supposed to be his damned weekend off rotation? Let Caleb deal with the latest stiff.

Then the thought that the entire station would suspect he’d spent the night of his ex-wife’s latest wedding getting shit-faced drunk sent him stumbling to his car. Yeah, cause his bloodshot eyes and old man shuffle wasn’t going to give the game away, he acknowledged wryly. But while he could take the razzing, he couldn’t take the thought of them feeling sorry for him.

Never that.

He might be a pathetic loser, but he was a pathetic loser who was damned good at his job.

Entering the cul-de-sac, Duncan parked his car and headed into the brick house. He ignored the speculative glances from the neighbors that had gathered in a little clutch across the street. He was accustomed to females checking out his spare, well-honed body shown to advantage in a pair of faded jeans and black tee. Even with his short, pale blond hair damp from the shower and his stubborn jaw shadowed with a golden stubble, he had the look of a man who knew what to do with a woman. Match that with a pair of hazel eyes that sparkled with wicked charm and they were like putty in his hands.

The men tended to be more interested in the gun holstered at his side and the hard expression on his lean face that warned he only needed an excuse to kick someone’s ass.

His own attention was focused on the house as he stepped into the small, but elegant foyer. Not the sort of house a young woman could afford without some help. From daddy. Or more likely, from sugar daddy.