He groaned aloud again and turned away from the figure lying so still on his bed. In his lair. He flinched as the word entered his mind. The beast was becoming more dominant. And the only way to control it was to merge with his lifemate, let her gentleness, her light, guide him away from the darkness spreading a stain across his soul.
He cleaned up before he woke her, dressing with care in a soft silk shirt and black trousers, hoping an old-world elegance would enhance his appeal. He secured his long hair at the nape of his neck. The shirt he left open at the throat, more because he was having trouble breathing than to be sexy.
As he sent his mind to wake her and watched her take her first breath, his body hardened with such an intensity, he found himself swearing again. He could feel sweat trickling down his chest and lower, between his legs. She stretched, her body moving sensually under the quilt. He thought he might burst. Her tongue moistened dry lips, left them glistening and inviting. He closed his eyes against the sight, but he could smell her, hear the rustle of the sheets.
Alexandria sat up slowly, disoriented. She had vivid images of an erotic dream, hands on her breasts, a mouth pressed to hers, fingers moving in her, then a hard, aggressive body blanketing hers, pinning her down. Her body ached with need, craved his touch. She squirmed, felt the creamy invitation calling, beckoning, tempting him. She opened her eyes—and met Aidan’s hot golden stare across the room.
Danger. It was there in his carved features, in the intensity of his eyes. She remained perfectly still, not taking her gaze from the predatory creature watching her. She was afraid even to breathe. If she moved, if she sighed, he would be on her. She sensed it, knew the erotic dream was his, knew his control was fragile and that he was battling his every instinct.
“Get out of here, cara mia,” he whispered hoarsely. The velvet roughness of his voice felt like a tongue lapping at her sensitized skin. “Get out while you can.” Red flames seemed to light the gold of his eyes, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. His muscles bulged with the effort to remain stationary.
She wanted to go to him, to soothe him—or to enflame him further, the consequences be damned. Her body was on fire, a living, breathing flame nearly out of control. It was only her shyness that prevented her from tempting him further. Her shyness and her fear. She rolled off the bed and fled, running as if seven demons were behind her. Running from herself even more than from Aidan.
Behind her Aidan stood as still as a statue. If he moved he was afraid he might shatter with pain, with need. He could not hold out much longer. God help them both if she did not come to him soon.
Alexandria slowed down once she was in the safety of the tunnel. She could feel Aidan still in her mind, still reaching for her, calling to her. She could taste his kiss, feel him touching her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the rock wall for support. Her legs felt like rubber, refusing to take another step. She wanted him. Not with a sweet, gentle longing, but with a savage, wild need that demanded hot, clawing sex.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thoughts she had, the images taunting her. She made her way up the stairs, grateful that Joshua didn’t see her. Her shower did nothing to alleviate her hunger, did nothing to wash away the feel of Aidan or the rich, spicy taste of him. The hot water running down her skin, between the swell of her breasts, down her stomach, to her tight blond curls, only served to heighten her sensitivity. She had to fight the urge to call Aidan to her. She ached for him, needed him, her body all liquid heat and throbbing with desire. She had to call him to her to stop this aching. She needed to feel his mouth on her skin, his hands on her body. She needed him in her, an urgent, wild mating that would go on forever.
And then she remembered his words. He could make her his slave. He could make her do things she had never even pictured. Well, she was picturing them now. Where did the images come from? “Damn you, Aidan. Damn you for doing this to me.” She turned up her face to the spray and shut herself off from him. She heard the echo of his despairing cry, the roar of the wounded animal, the growl of the hunter who had missed his prey.
Without him in her mind to feed her own hunger, the terrible urgency lessened. It did not go away entirely, but real hunger crept in. She was pale and needed nourishment. She needed him. With an unladylike oath, she dressed in jeans and a ribbed top and headed for the sitting room next to her bedroom. It was to become her studio. She found that Marie or Stefan, obviously on Aidan’s orders, had already purchased supplies for her. They were top quality, things she had never been able to afford before. Ordinarily she would never accept such a lavish gift, but the artist in her thrilled to the beauty of the tools.
She heard Joshua before he came looking for her. Home from school, he was laughing with Stefan in the solarium, then chatting with Marie in the kitchen over cookies. Alexandria found herself happy and sad at the same time. Joshua needed the company, and the older couple displayed genuine affection for him, but she was sad that her relationship with her brother was changing, that he would no longer rely solely on her.
By the time he came rushing up the stairs, bellowing boisterously for her, she had regained her composure. Joshua flung himself into her arms, and she lifted him, spinning him around in circles until he shrieked happily with dizziness.
“Look at all this stuff!” she cried joyfully, showing off her treasures.
Joshua puffed out his chest. “I helped pick them out. Aidan and I went shopping. I showed him all the things you always picked up and put back. I could tell you wanted them, though. We had fun shopping for you. He said it was to be a big surprise.”
She clutched a box of charcoal pencils to her, all at once finding it hard to breathe. “He did, did he? When did you do this?”
Joshua grinned at her. “A few days ago. While you were so sick. He picked out some new clothes, too. Look in your bedroom closet. You should have seen the saleswoman. She was looking at him like—”
“I can imagine,” Alexandria broke in dryly. She followed a skipping Joshua back into her bedroom.
“He thought of everything. He said when a woman as beautiful and as good as you got so sick, a man should do whatever he could to make things better for you.” Joshua threw open the double closet doors she had never touched, using only the bureau for her jeans and tops.
In her entire life Alexandria had never owned enough clothes to fill a closet of this size, yet it was jammed with dresses, coats, skirts, slacks, and blouses. She bit her lower lip and touched a long black evening gown. It was by a top designer. She dropped her hand to her side. “Why did he do this?” she whispered aloud to Joshua, repeating in her head, Why did you do this?
It is only money,cara. I have nothing else to use to pay for my sins. He sounded alone and lost, ragged.
She unexpectedly felt tears in her eyes. Everything in her wanted to run to him, comfort him, but his words from that morning continued to echo in her head, and she closed her mind firmly to his tricks. Become his slave. It would never happen.
“Ah, sis, don’t cry like a baby,” Joshua admonished. “Aidan did it ‘cuz he wanted to. You should see all the neat toys he bought me. You know, I asked Marie and Stefan about the puppy—how much work they thought it would be.”
“Persistent little devil, aren’t you?” She closed the closet doors firmly on the new clothes, determined never to wear them.