Marked by Passion (27 page)

Wu came to mind, and I made a face. He wouldn't have been happy knowing I'd turned to an outsider, even if he was another Guardian.

"Interesting decor." Rhys touched the half-broken lamp by the futon.

I shrugged. "My interior decorator handles it all. She charges an arm and leg, but I think she's worth it."

"Indeed." He picked up the picture of me and Paul.

Snatching it back, I replaced it next to my bedside lamp. "Stop being nosy."

"Intrigued, love. Not nosy." Hands in his pockets, he perused the room, his gaze resting on a crimson bra lying on the floor.

Crap. I reached down, snatched it, and hid it behind my back.

"Gabrielle, you surprise me."

"Because I wear red lace, or because I don't want you to see it?"

"Do you really not want me to see it, love?"

I frowned.

His lips did that little quirk, and he strolled out of the living room into the kitchen.

"Hey. Where are you going?" I stuffed the bra under my covers and hurried to follow him. I stopped talking abruptly when I realized he wasn't in the kitchen. Not like there was anything of note in the kitchen, unless you were into moldy brown bananas. Which meant he was in my art studio.

"Shit." The painting I'd started sat on the easel, totally exposed and vulnerable. I rushed back, shivering as my feet hit the icy floor. Maybe he wouldn't notice the painting. It was dark—it could happen.

No such luck. He stood directly behind it, studying it like it was by Rembrandt.

"There's nothing back here that you'd find interesting." I swallowed thickly. Maybe he wouldn't recognize his own eyes staring back at him. It was pretty abstract.

"Quite the contrary. Did you do this?"

I tipped my chin up. "Yes."

He glanced at me before returning his attention to the canvas. "Intriguing subject."

On the inside I groaned. On the outside, I pretended to study the canvas, too. "It's from a nightmare I had. I call it
The Boogeyman Is Watching."

"Do you have nightmares often?" He faced me.

Too close. He dominated the room, making my studio seem even smaller than usual. I wanted to step back into the kitchen, but I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Instead, I steeled myself from being seduced by his heated gaze and resisted the gravitational pull of his body. "I have one recurring nightmare that won't seem to go away."

He didn't move, but I swore he got closer. "Perhaps it's not really a nightmare but a dream come true."

"That, or indigestion."

He chuckled.

I warmed at the sound, and that totally disturbed me. I needed to be on my toes, not disarmed and compliant. Frowning, I crossed my arms. "I want to discuss the terms of the deal."

"There are no terms."

"Right." I narrowed my eyes. "Don't think that just because I'm letting you show me how to use the Force that I've forgiven you. I'm still angry."

He cocked an eyebrow. "The Force?"

"I'm an artist, not a writer. I couldn't come up with anything more original." I propped my fists on my hips. "And don't think that this'll get you anything. Especially anything sexual."

This time, Rhys did move so he backed me up against the doorway. His hands framed my shoulders, and I thanked God he wasn't pressed against me. "Trust me, love, when we make love it'll be because you're begging for it and no other reason."

Hoping he didn't notice how my nipples had jumped to attention, I pretended to resist. "Dream on, stud muffin."

"You'll come to me." He nuzzled the side of my neck. "Willing and eager."

Warmth stole through me, and I closed my eyes to savor it.
Tu ch’i
surged up to meet him. I tensed, waiting for the backlash, but his energy rose up to cocoon mine. Safe. Considering the circumstances, it amazed me. I relaxed even though I wasn't sure how I felt about accepting comfort from him.

His breath scorched my neck, and the heat of it echoed all the way to my toes and back. I moaned, snuggling closer.
More.

As if he heard my silent plea, fire blazed inside me. It licked up and down my body, centering between my legs, right where I needed it. His hands gripped me closer, and his hard-on pressed into me at the same spot.

Intense. I gasped. But instead of losing myself to the pleasure, I began to drown in the sensations. He filled me—overpowering—like he sought dominion.

Not like this—not if it meant losing my will. With a kung fu yell, I shoved him back, hoping that'd be enough to bring my body back under control. It worked—our connection severed.

It took me several moments before I could speak. "Teach me how to shield."

He gazed at me in silence. I wondered what he was looking for, or what he saw, but he began to speak before I could ask. "The energies, or powers, accompanying each scroll are different, which is why they have unique names."

"They do?" I thought it was all
tu ch’i,
period.

"Of course." He frowned at me. "You didn't know?"

I ignored his question and asked one of my own. "What is yours called?"

Rhys hesitated.
"Huǒ ch'i."

"How—"

"Do you want me to teach you to shield?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

In other words, shut up. I nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Even though the energy from each scroll has different properties, they all essentially work the same. The energy flows from its source, much like water. Although, unlike a river, you can redirect its course at your will."

"Deep." I couldn't help the sarcasm. He sounded like he'd read the nature bullshit from the scroll.

He shot me a quelling look. "To control the energy, you need to have complete focus. Still your mind."

"Um, this is where I've been going wrong." But in the spirit of cooperating, I closed my eyes and tried to find that calm place I painted from.

Tu ch’i
slammed into me, harder than ever before, making me stagger. I grabbed something to keep me from falling and struggled to shove
tu ch’i
back where it came from.

"Stop fighting it," Rhys commanded, his voice sounding miles away.

"Can't." If I stopped fighting I'd lose myself to it, and there was no telling what would happen then.

Gritting my teeth, I wrestled with it. After a moment, I felt a cushioning warmth, and it drained from me with less effort than usual. When I finally opened my eyes again, I wasn't as physically depleted as I usually was.

I was, however, in Rhys's arms. I looked up into his eyes and blinked when I saw the stunned anger reflected there.

He gripped my arms tight. "What the hell was that?"

"You're the teacher here." I scowled. "What did you think it was?"

"Why is it so strong?"

"It's strong?"

"It shouldn't have hit you so forcefully."

"The Force runs strong in my family," I deadpanned.

"Don't play games with me, Gabrielle. You nearly overcame me." He shook me just enough to get my attention but not so he'd hurt me. "If I were anyone else, you would have killed me."

That effectively shut me up.

"Something is amiss for your energy to be so out of control."

"You think so?" I couldn't think of anything amiss. Well, except for the fact that I'd lost the scroll.
Tu ch’i had
gone crazy after that night. Were they tied? I frowned.

As if reading my mind, Rhys demanded, "Where's your scroll?"

"Oh. no." I shook my head. "That's not part of the bargain, either."

"You don't trust me."

"Hell, no, I don't." I'd be damned if I let him find out I'd lost it. I couldn't bear him thinking I was some ditz who couldn't keep track of one scrap of paper.

Rhys studied me, his gaze so piercing I had to fight not to fidget. Finally he said, "Picture a box."

"A box?" I frowned. "Like a shoe box or what?"

"Any box strong enough to hold the energy in it."

I instantly visualized a high-tech safe with foot-thick walls. "Got it."

"Place the energy inside and lock the door."

"That's it?"

"Until I know why it's trying to drown you, yes. You can't handle anything more at the moment."

That stung, but I tried not to pout. "Well, I could have come up with something like this."

"But you didn't, love." He raised an eyebrow. "Now concentrate."

Sparing a second to shoot him an
eat dirt
glare, I closed my eyes and pictured my safe. I began to mentally gather
tu ch’i
in my hands. It slipped through my fingers and stubbornly evaded my herding, so I put it in the safe little by little until I had almost all of it gathered.

Only suddenly Rhys's hands spanned my waist and snaked up my T-shirt. I gasped, mentally scrambling to keep all the energy in the safe. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure your concentration is strong enough," he said a moment before I felt his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot on my neck. "Focus, Gabrielle. I can feel your energy struggling to break free again."

Gritting my teeth, I forced my mind back to the task at hand. Harder this time. Especially since he slid his hands up my abdomen to rest just under my chest. Sweat broke out on my skin—-I'm sure from the strength of my effort and not his touch. But I was painstakingly winning the battle against
tu ch’i.

"Gabrielle," he murmured, nibbling at the base of my neck. "You aren't wearing a bra."

"Shut up. I'm concentrating."

His palms rubbed over my nipples before they closed over my breasts.

I lost control of
tu ch’i,
and it slammed out of me and into Rhys.

Pain. We gasped at the same time. The ground began that deep-in-the-core rumbling that signaled an oncoming earthquake. His hands dug into me, almost burning.

And then it changed. His warm energy wrapped around me. encasing me and
tu ch’i
so it wasn't so intense. Then his power moved through me, flames erupting all over again.

His body pressed mine into the wall, and we both groaned with excruciating pleasure. He rolled the tips of my breasts between his ringers, lowering his head and feeding one to his mouth through my shirt. Letting my head fall back against the wall, I rubbed myself against the leg he'd worked between mine, wanting to feel that scorching heat where it counted.

It was different this time. This time, both of us spun out of control and the push-pull of the energy between us was equal. I grabbed his shoulders to hold the feeling close.

"Gabrielle."
He jerked one hand out of my shirt to grip my butt, grinding me against him. "Concentrate."

I didn't want to. I'd never felt so connected to anything ever. Delicious. Hot. Tempting to just stay lost in our combined power.

Tempting, but I had responsibilities. I gathered my will and focused on
tu ch’i.
I imagined a trap door under my feet. I mentally stepped back and opened it, visualizing
tu ch’i
draining through it—every last bit until there wasn't a trace left inside me. It started to shift back up, but I slammed the door shut on it. I pictured a lock on the door and flipped the key before slipping it into a mental pocket.

As suddenly as it happened, all Rhys' heat dissipated. I shivered. Not cold—bereft. And unfulfilled. Opening my eyes, my gaze collided with his.

He looked like he'd just fought a battle. His chest heaved against mine with the effort to catch his breath. His hair stood on end like I'd raked my fingers through it, though I couldn't remember doing so, and his clothes were less pristine than I'd ever seen.

His eyes got me, though. In them, the fire still raged. And I mean
raged.
I'd never seen a blue so violent. Not a physical violence, but violently wanting.

Me.

I licked my lips, glancing at his mouth. "I'm crumpling your suit."

"I don't give a bloody damn about the suit," he all but growled.

My hands slid to the top of his shirt. I slipped a couple fingers inside his collar, teasing him before I gripped the two sides and tugged so the first two buttons tore off.

The creak of the front door opening camouflaged the
ping
of them hitting the wooden floor. I must have forgotten to lock the door. Frowning, I looked over Rhys's shoulder and gasped. "Jesse."

He said nothing as he took in the scene. His gaze fell to my chest, and his hands clenched.

Glancing down, I winced when I saw my nipple in stark relief against a large, translucent wet spot.

Then I realized I was still in Rhys's arms. Damn it. I didn't want Jesse, but I didn't have to flaunt another man in his face. I let go of Rhys and pried myself loose. "Jesse—"

"I stopped by the bar, but you were already gone. Vivian said I should try you at home."

I was going to strangle that woman.

"I didn't realize you had plans." He nodded coldly at Rhys. "I'll get out of your way."

"Wait." I rushed to catch up to him before he walked away. "Jesse, let me explain."

He faced me from the bottom of the porch steps. "Nothing to explain, babe. We're just friends, right?"

The streetlight illuminated the pain on his face, and I cringed. I walked barefoot down the steps so I stood before him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He trailed his knuckles softly down my cheek, his smile regretful. "I know you didn't."

"I—" I shook my head, feeling like I needed to say something but not sure what. I had the impulse to explain my relationship with Rhys—Jesse wouldn't feel so bad if he knew what happened in there was because of an invisible Force and not because of normal attraction. It was all artificial, and if I told myself that a few hundred more times, I was sure I'd believe it, too.

Sighing, he lifted my chin with a finger and lowered his mouth to mine.

Without thought, I stepped back before his lips touched mine.

Understanding twisted his lips into a bitter smile. He stepped back and stuffed his hands into his pockets. It suddenly felt like there was an enormous gulf between us, which grew when he said, "I'm going out of town soon."

"Oh." I wanted to ask him where he was going and why. But that was none of my business, so I bit my lip to keep from saying anything.