Authors: Katherine Whitley
Chapter 10
Revelations
Jackson followed her into the house on pins and needles. Surely Indie could hear the pinball action of his heart, pinging off his ribcage and spine. But an episode of full-blown tachycardia would not be good right now. He deliberately focused on slowing his heart rate.
“Are you sure you want me here?”
Ha. He didn’t know why he had asked her
that
. . . as if he could possibly leave now. Well, maybe if she
really
wanted him to.
Indie turned to fix him with her own Caribbean blue gaze. He was wearing the expression of excitement mixed with pain once again.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Indie ordered him, and Jackson complied without hesitation.
“I know what this is doing to you. I’m not sure how I will bear this, but I don’t know how else
to
do it. But I
am
going to do it, because . . .” his voice dropped to a seductive hiss, “because I must.”
“Do what?” Indie returned the whisper calmly. “What are you going to do, Jackson?”
How serene she felt now, with the knowledge of the inevitable. Knowing, no matter how horrible, trumped ignorance.
Jackson’s entire body stiffened at the sound of his name spoken in her soft voice. When he answered, his voice was raw with need.
“I’m going to bring you to me, where you belong!” He raised his head and looked her in the eyes when he said this, his own eyes clear and determined, yet troubled.
Indie felt a blush rising in the wake of his unrelenting gaze. He was rooted in place, watching her steadily, and his deep blue eyes were nearly the color of midnight now. She felt as if they were pools of life. Anything she could possibly want, she need only look there to find it.
“Indie,” Jackson picked up on her emotions, “you will find what you are looking for. What you
need
. Because I have found
you
.”
He spoke in his gentle but disconcertingly masculine voice; a voice filled with the longing that she had felt her entire life. Indie had been longing, but for what, she’d never understood. But she had an idea now.
She reached out her hand to him.
“Invitation only?”
Oh,
by
the
Creator’s
will,
she
was
going
to
let
him
touch
her!
Jackson’s thoughts collided with themselves, threatening to overtake his reason. He quickly drew into his lungs a deep, cooling breath of air to bring himself down, and expelled it slowly, before answering.
“Yes, it has to be your choice . . . your
will
.” Jackson’s voice shook with anticipation in spite of his best efforts.
This spilled Indie completely over the edge.
“Take my hand,” she whispered urgently, reaching further, and he slowly removed both of his hands from his pockets.
They were shaking violently.
Dismayed at his lack of control, he clenched them into tight fists and hesitated. Indie must have full disclosure.
“There will be no going back, you know,” he warned. “Once we make contact, you may find yourself wanting me as much as I need you!”
I
pray
that
you
do.
“But it may make your future choices more difficult.”
Those words, while shocking to Indie, served only to urge her forward. He paused once more, and stepped closer. Looking down, Jackson drew her into the depths of his stare.
“
I’ll
take
your
invitation,
and
you
take
all
of
me
. . .” He then broke into an uneasy smile.
“Nickelback. I tend to quote songs annoyingly often.”
This caused a short huff of nervous laughter to roll from Indie’s throat, and she couldn’t help herself. “Uh . . . I think—that’s actually Lifehouse . . .”
Jackson eyes sparked. “Yes . . . it is Lifehouse. Just checking to see if you’re really someone I can spend forever with.”
Indie didn’t quite know what to say to this. The moment was so serious . . . so monumental.
Yet his humor still escaped. She also used humor to diffuse tension, and she felt an uptight giggle sneaking its way past her lips, only to become a soft gasp as Jackson’s eyes suddenly turned deadly serious in their focus. They seized and held her own as he stepped closer still.
His features were calm as a moonlit mountain lake now, and he reached forward to curl his strong hands around Indie’s small but capable ones, and a surge of something like an electrical impulse shot through his body.
Jackson’s head snapped back and a low sound escaped his throat, echoed by a similar response from Indie. The sensations from both the current and the sound of Indie’s shock made him feel faintly unsteady, and he gripped her hands tightly.
Indie felt a rush of strength climb through her frame. They were supporting each other now, and an immediate sensation of solid warmth flowed from his body into hers. She sucked in his scent now, greedily.
He smelled like everything warm and comforting; a cozy fire, hot buttered toast and cocoa, along with some kind of intense pheromone pull, like the scent from the top of your baby’s head. The effect was close to an adrenaline high.
Indie stepped closer, breathing in deeply. He stepped closer at the same moment, their faces inches apart.
Indie’s head began to spin. Her thoughts clouded and she felt herself falling. Jackson wrapped his left arm around her, easily supporting her weight. He kept his right hand free, as he rested his fingertips on her forehead, tracing lightly now down her jaw line, and up to her lips. He dipped his head down and brought his own lips across her eyelid, and dragged them over to her ear.
“Are you okay?” he breathed into her hair. As Indie turned her head to look into his eyes, she started to speak, but lost her voice as she took note of the emotion on his face.
Oh God. It was
disappointment
. Jackson seemed distracted; looking for something in her that he clearly was not seeing. There was also a touch of confusion in his eyes, as if he had expected something . . . different.
No, please. She couldn’t bear it. This was supposed to be different. She had been so sure. How could it be that he was losing sight of her already? Did she not meet his expectations? Indie choked back her tears.
Jackson’s expression darkened and he spoke with such passion that it knocked Indie’s oncoming sobs aside with blunt force.
“No, Indie.” He shook his head. “Whatever you’re thinking, if it makes you look like
that
, then you have it wrong!”
“You’re,” her voice cracked, “not exactly thrilled with me now, are you? I can see the disappointment . . .” She couldn’t bear to go on, and struggled to break free of his embrace.
His expression softened at once, and he gathered her even more tightly against his hard unyielding body, easily resisting her escape attempts. When his eyes met hers once more, she saw laughter mingling with a look of wistfulness.
“Oh, Indie, if I could ever be angry with you, I would bet this would be one of those times! How could you possibly think . . .” he paused, shaking his head at her in disapproval. Before she could respond, he continued, but dipped down low to speak against her neck, and moving down her collarbone as he did, effectively silencing her ability to even think.
“Any disappointment you see, is simply the fact that I have been able to read your emotions and your feelings, but I
should
now be able to read your thoughts clearly, as we have made contact, and I . . . I don’t.” Jackson stopped, cocking his head to one side, thinking. He seemed to push the thought aside for the moment.
“There is also the fact that I thought that our bloodlines would be more closely aligned. Most
Equals
of Society Members from
my
particular genetics, are matched with
Equals
of the same ancestry, so that they understand our ability to do what we do.”
He chuckled softly
,
before adding before adding, “And so there is no conflict
about leadership!” Jackson stopped his words.
He knew that Indie would have no idea what he was talking about.
“That doesn’t matter. It was just unexpected. I’m sure there is a reason. We are meant to be compatible.” He smiled reassuringly at her.”
So tell me . . . what
are
you thinking, Indie?”
She was actually thinking that his voice should be dispensed like a narcotic, it was so dangerously addicting. But she decided to speak an all encompassing fact.
“Just that you’re . . . perfect,” she whispered, relieved by his words, and utterly amazed at the way the feelings obliterated any coherent thought for the moment.
She did wonder why he couldn’t read her thoughts, if that’s what he was supposed to be able to do, but kicked to the curb her natural urge to feed on this as another failure.
No. She was through with the self-doubt. She knew it, somehow. The deal was done, and she knew she belonged to this man from this moment on. How this could be, she wasn’t sure, she simply knew that it was.
“I am meant to be perfect for you, and I
am
yours,” he spoke in the most sure, calming voice ever to touch her ears. The whisper of his accent was pure seduction. He closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against hers, and Indie thought that she might pass out from the scent, the warmth and the need.
Moving with agonizingly slow caution, he kissed both of her eyelids now, gently . . . hesitated, and then moved to his target.
Tentatively, he sought her lips and brushed an exploratory kiss against them. Indie could tell that he was ready to allow her to pull away if she so chose.
As soon as it was clear that she wasn’t going to do any such thing, his urgency took over, and he pulled her against his body with a soft groan of relief.
His kiss was filled with yearning—lips soft, yet firm. Firm enough to know that this was a man was kissing her, and that this man had needs. She felt his hips lock against hers, and her heart rate exploded into overdrive. Holding her in place with his carefully tempered strength, he pressed against her, just for a moment.
Indie had no way of knowing this little gem of information, but this was Jackson’s first real kiss. The first that he’d actively participated in, at any rate.
Oh, he had been ambushed by overly enthusiastic females before, but this . . . this was what he’d been waiting for.
Saving himself for.
He stopped, clutching her tightly for a second and then stepped away with a sigh. She felt as though the sun had gone out. Or her air supply had been cut off.
“I know,” he spoke, answering her feelings. “But I need you to break away from your”—he blanched—“from Will” He could not bring himself to say “husband”.
He just couldn’t.
That
reality made Indie flinch, too. But only at the thought of how to tell Will.
Jackson stepped back with a small groan of protest spilling forth inadvertently and took both of her hands in his, kissing each one.
“I will not truly have you as long as he still does, even if it’s only in his mind.”
Indie moved toward the couch and sat, dragging him along.
“But how can I do this? I am sitting here with you; a stranger to me, but just because you
touched
me, I am ready to end my marriage? Divorce Will and run away with you?” Indie shook her head. “It’s crazy . . . just . . . crazy. But I
know
I belong with you. It’s like I’ve always known. Or am I finally just losing my mind, Jackson?”
“It’s only crazy to you because you weren’t raised in our world. You would understand why we connect this way, if only . . . .” He looked into her eyes with a return of the weary, exhausted look he’d sported when she’d first seen him.
“If only you’d been found right away, as you should have been.” He threw her a quick smile. “But you are found now, and that is all that matters.”
He curled his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her forward slightly. He raised his eyes to hers, his expression shifted back into sorrow. “Except that now, I need you to break free from William Taylor’s claim on you, and I know I am asking you to do something painful to you.”