Knight-in-Arms - Demons: (BWWM Interracial Paranormal Billionaire Shifter Romance Part Three) (2 page)

“Rochelle, I’m so sorry” he said. He stopped walking. She stopped too and looked up at him. He bowed his head so that his forehead rested on hers. Rochelle was embarrassed; they were in a square full lots of people.

“Xavier” she hissed, trying to pull away, but his arm tightened round her waist, the fingers of his other hand still intertwined with hers where they’d been holding hands. He pouted childishly at her, with puppy-dog eyes. Despite her best efforts, she found herself starting to be won over, and her annoyance start to dissipate.

“Okay, whatever” she said. If her voice sounded brusque now, it was from embarrassment.

He smiled. He tilted his head, so that for a moment, his lips brushed hers. Then, he released her.

The Piazza was so full of tourists she didn’t know where to look. She kept her gaze on the paved ground.

Xavier tugged her hand, pulling her towards the Duomo.

“Come on, let’s go inside”, he said, “But only if you can handle it. I hear there are four hundred and sixty-three steps”.

The view from top was breath-taking. The orange roofs of houses below stretched as far as her eye could see.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes, it is” he agreed.

He was very attentive to her after that. However, so too, it seemed, were the people around her.

“For you, signorina” said a girl of about ten years old once they were outside in the Piazza again. She offered Rochelle a balloon.

“Oh, thank you” said Rochelle.

“For you, signorina” said a skilful street artist as he handed her a drawing of herself. Rochelle looked at Xavier quizzically.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t know” said Xavier, “It must be the Florentine hospitality”.

However, after she’d received chocolates from the waiter when they stopped for lunch, a cake from the bakery as they’d walked past, a beautiful bracelet from the jewellers and a spontaneous chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ from musicians on the street, she knew Xavier definitely had a hand in this.

“You are too much” she said, but she was happy. It was like she’d cashed in all the coupons for her past celebration-less birthdays and received an extravagant celebration in return.

They were so laden with gifts that he suggested going to drop them off. So, they were taken to their hotel.

“This isn’t where we were staying” she said when they pulled up outside a villa. The early evening sunshine cast a golden glow. Its cream walls looked warm and inviting, contrasting against the cool blue green of the wooden shutters.

“We’ve moved” said Xavier.

Fair enough, thought Rochelle.

They got to the door. It was the same blue green as the shutters.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked.

Open it? She thought and then she remembered the key round her neck. Realisation dawned on her.

“April fools” said Xavier.

Rochelle was confused. So it wasn’t… the key wasn’t… But wait, it wasn’t even April…

“Sorry, wrong one”, smiled Xavier, I meant ‘happy birthday’”.

Rochelle hugged him. She kind of leapt on him out of nowhere and he was a bit taken a back.

“Thank you” she exclaimed into his shoulder, “It’s amazing”. Nothing she could say could convey how she felt right now. He’d bought her a villa. An actual villa. In Florence. It was just…he was just…wow.

“Xavier…” she murmured, still hugging him. The warmth of the sun oozed over them like honey. She let her feelings radiate from her. She wished she could preserve this day, at this exact time, forever.

They went to dinner in a restaurant a little walk away. It was a small, cosy restaurant which fit the atmosphere, how she was feeling perfectly.

“You know,” she said, “This kind of reminds me of our first date. It was a lovely place like this ”.

“So that was a date?” asked Xavier, “And there I was thinking you wanted to thank me for letting you stay…”

“It was originally to say ‘thank you’, but in light of everything that’s happened, I’m posthumously naming it our first date”.

Xavier chuckled.

“All right” he said.

They walked back under the light of the full moon. Rochelle laid her head on Xavier’s shoulder.

As she lay in bed that night, a slither of the moon’s light shone on her face through a chink in the curtains. She turned to Xavier.

“You know, I had the best day today”.

Xavier stroked the side of her face.

“I’m glad you did” he said.

He moved closer and kissed her. It was slow and tentative at first but the force increased until there was an insatiable greediness in the urgency that took her breath away and made her yearn for him, even though he was already beside her. So near. The strap of her nightdress slipped from her shoulder as his hands stroked and caressed. Lower. Rougher. She moaned softly. Xavier eased her onto her back, climbing on top of her. His wings opened but he fought the beast. He looked into her eyes, deeply, intently. Her heart raced. She could see how much he wanted her; good grief, she wanted him to have her. Her body ached with a longing to be his. She pulled him closer, ever closer.

*              *              *

The next day, Xavier had had another letter in a black envelope. It assured him, as always, that his membership was most welcome and that if he chose not to join, they could not ensure the safety of Miss Rochelle Phillips.

Another part of the letter stood out to him:

Remember the girl.

Xavier couldn’t forget. All these years, he remembered. All these years he’d tried to suppress the memory of what he’d done to her. She was the reason he avoided getting into other relationships, and risking hurting someone else. Until Rochelle. But Rochelle had helped him see that though it was difficult, though he doubted himself at times, he was capable of loving someone without hurting her and someone was capable of accepting him and his beastly nature. So anyone who threatened to harm her, even on paper… He snarled, his eyes smouldering. He scrunched up the letter in his hand and hurled it into the bin. Then, he turned swiftly and punched the mirror. It shattered.

Rochelle gave a startled cry.

“Xavier?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move. His breathing was deep and furious.

She approached him.

“Xavier, what’s going on?”

He turned to her. His eyes were angry. She almost shrank away.  She thought maybe he was turning but he was definitely Xavier. This was the first time she’d seen him like this and he scared her.

As his eyes fell on her, however, they softened into the gentle expression she associated with him. He lowered his hand from the frame, which had encased the large mirror.

“Your hand!”

He looked at it. Blood ran in little rivulets over his knuckles.

“It’s fine” he said dismissively.

She went to get her First Aid kit. She didn’t usually take First Aid kits with her on holiday, but travelling with someone like Xavier... He had even given her an emergency number to call to avoid ordinary human hospitals.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” asked Rochelle as she cleaned his wound.

Xavier sighed.

“There are things you don’t know about me”, he said, “Things I’ve done; things I’m not proud of”.

Rachel looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I wanted to spare you from this. The less you know about it, the better. You can still walk away”.

“I’m not going anywhere” said Rochelle. Even so, she was worried. The last time, when she’d said she wanted to get to know him better, he turned out to be not quite human. Now, she told him she wasn’t going anywhere. She knew he had a past but what if he revealed something about himself that was just as big and terrifying?

He closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. Perhaps he was hesitating because he was afraid he might lose her… Either way, she felt uneasy.

“University…”, he began, “You know what it’s like – the partying and the drinking”.

Rochelle nodded.

“Well, I didn’t know my limitations”, he continued, “I had a girlfriend at the time and we ended up sleeping together but I was drunk and I turned and slashed her to within an inch of her life”.

He sighed. Rochelle noticed his hands were trembling. It seemed remembering still caused him some distress. But this explained was why he’d been so reluctant yesterday…

“I was so ashamed and… and scared that I didn’t tell anyone, not even Sebastian”.

She patted his arm.

“You don’t have to tell me this” she said.

“No, I do” he said adamantly.

He took a deep breath.

“When I found out what I was capable of, I was distraught”, he continued, “I was a monster. I even contemplated suicide. But then, an organisation reached out to me – The Order of Jessick. I gave them a fake identity so my family wouldn’t find out. They helped me sort out my life and I was grateful. But then, they started trying to get me to do things I didn’t want to do and so I… so I left”.

“About a year ago, they found out my true identity. And they’ve been blackmailing me, threatening to out my secret about what I am, what I did, if I don’t join them and provide financial assistance for their cause”.

That’s awful”, said Rochelle, “Can’t you stop them?”

“I managed to have some of them sent to prison and of course, I moved to Lower Ferton to lie low for a while. But it’s only made them change their strategy.

“How?”

“I found out they were responsible for Roseford”.

“What?”

Rochelle somehow felt it as a personal attack, perhaps because she had been there at the time.

“Yes”, said Xavier, “but that’s not all. They’re targeting you now”.

“Me?”

Rochelle’s blood ran cold. People who’d be ruthless enough to blow up Roseford were after her…?

“Yes”, said Xavier, “I was suspicious when you were in hospital, which is why we moved you to Roseford in the first place.

“And then, yesterday in the Piazza del Duomo, I saw some of them. I think they’re following us”.

Xavier looked at her. It was a piercing look.

“But it’s the wrong strategy” he said, vehemence creeping into his eyes, “because the thought of anyone harming you makes me so angry”.

Rochelle took his hand. She was worried. Bad things happened when people were angry – violence, misunderstandings, errors in judgement…

*              *              *

That afternoon, after Xavier had calmed down, she managed to persuade him to go to the Boboli gardens for a walk. He kept looking over his shoulder even though very often, they were the only people on the path. The bushes rose up high on either side of them, making it feel very private.

“You know, I’m so glad it was you who brought the parcel to my house. It could have been anyone. If it had been anyone else on the road, or even anyone else in your family, like Nico…”