He clenched his jaw. "All these years, she lied to me. Fiona is my mother. The Delacortes weren't—" He couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. "How could she watch me go through all that pain and not tell me? Why did she give me away in the first place?"
"And she kept up with you all those years. Only a mother would— It doesn't make any sense, Christian." Setting the certificate aside, she pulled him to her, closing her eyes as she hugged him.
"And the worst part—" He burrowed his face into her neck. She barely heard the words. "I remembered something from the dream, the last time I had it. Whoever killed my ... the Delacortes . . . was after me. I was the reason they broke into the house. I remembered them saying they were after the boy—find the boy."
Eyes wide with her shock, Raven pushed back. Her mind searched for the words to console him. "How do you know? You can't know that for su re. You were too young."
"I blocked out so much. I thought it was the trauma I'd gone through, but now, it's all beginning to make a twisted kind of sense."
"But why? Why would someone want to kill a little boy?"
Slowly, he shook his head. His exhaustion showed. She felt certain he hadn't even heard the question she posed.
"All I know is that it was my fault." He avoided her eyes and stared into the locker. "They died because of me."
She understood survivor's guilt, had seen it before. Nothing she could say would raise him from the depths of his unfounded blame. Raven felt the magnitude of his loss. The death of the Delacortes had forever robbed him of his childhood, his sense of well-being. Just as the death of her father had done to her—magnified tenfold.
Raven pulled him to her, kissing him until he responded. He collapsed in her arms, worn out by his emotional roller coaster. Her comfort didn't last long. He let her go and looked over his shoulder.
"Raven, I need to understand . . ." His voice trailed off as he bowed his head, his eyes drawn once again to the memories strewn along the floor. "Why is my life so surrounded by death?"
The old trunk embodied Fiona's betrayal and the violent death of the only family he had ever known. Raven just wanted it gone—out of his sight.
"Don't do this to yourself. Someone else is responsible. You were only a ... a scared little boy." She swallowed the lump in her throat. A tear slid down her cheek.
He avoided her eyes. It pained her to see him like this. She stroked his cheek with her fingertips, then caressed his face in her hands, lowering her lips to his. An impulse. The kiss started as a gentle and nurturing connection. The warmth and smell of his skin made her lose herself to the sensation.
But as a shudder ran through his body, she felt his need take over. Christian pulled her into his arms, his body hard against her. A low moan exposed his urgency.
She couldn't stop it, even if she wanted to.
Her velvet softness jolted every fiber of his being. The scent of her warm skin drilled his senses. Christian picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. His mind grappled with his desire for romance with this woman, to take his time making love to her. But he knew this was all about one thing—NEED. No turning back now. His body stiffened with the curves of her flesh pressed hard against him. With all the reminders of death around him, he desperately wanted to feel alive, to replace the pain.
"I want you. I need—"
She smothered his words with a passionate kiss. And as he set her down by the bed, he replenished his spirit with the longing in her eyes. Backlit by the pale light from a lamp on the nightstand, she looked like an angel—with devilish intentions. Her eyes probed his body, devouring him like he was food.
"No more talking—" With a wicked smile, she raised her arms above her head, inviting him to explore with a whisper. "I surrender."
She wore a large navy tee with Police Academy emblazoned on the front in bold white letters. Without taking his eyes from hers, he trailed his fingers to her thighs. Slowly, he caressed her warm skin, raising the thin cotton inch by agonizing inch. Pulling the tee over her head, he watched her hair cascade to her shoulders, her pale skin made more perfect by the dark strands.
Adrenaline and anticipation surged through his muscles when she returned the gesture, sliding his black boxers down his thighs to the floor. Her hands lingered in all the right spots. Completely unencumbered, the sensation of skin on skin drove him insane. Kneeling at her feet, he stroked her with the tip of his tongue. The sound of her pleasure filled the air. His lips explored her body, eager to learn every nuance of her sensuality. She collapsed to the mattress and pulled him with her.
As her mouth nuzzled him, every movement of her tongue, every touch of her teeth made him shudder. The sound of her moans reverberated against his skin, sending quivers through his belly. Not being able to control himself any longer, he rolled onto one elbow pulling her to him, plunging his tongue into her warm mouth. He could no longer resist what she offered. He pleasured her with his fingers, then rolled his hips against hers, wedging himself between her legs.
"Oh, please ... YES," she cried out as he pressed into her for the first time. "Don't stop."
Tears streaked her face as he filled her, her velvety tightness claiming him. With her outcry, he thought he'd hurt her and almost stopped, but she encouraged him with her throaty moans and urgent kisses. Aroused by her hunger, he plunged deeper, his sense of urgency swelling.
Cradling her hips with his hands, he thrust until she clutched his back. Her orgasm rippled through her in forceful waves. Raven's cries of pleasure taunted him until he couldn't control himself any longer. Arching his back, he exploded with his own powerful release. He filled her, time and time again, then shuddered in exhaustion. Depleted of his strength, he was seized by the faint tremors of complete gratification. He'd never felt so . . . alive.
Christian rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She fell limp against his chest. Kissing the top of her head, he nuzzled closer, never wanting to let her go. As he stroked her hair, she raised her chin, finding his eyes in the dim light. Her pale skin glimmered with beads of sweat and the enticing blush of sex.
"God, you're beautiful." The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he'd spoken.
"That's funny. I was just thinking the same thing of you." Her shy smile disarmed him. Then her expression grew more solemn. "Let's switch places. I want to hold you, Christian . . . until you fall asleep."
Her offer touched him—compassion brimming in her eyes. He fondled a strand of her hair, then kissed her with all the tenderness he felt in his heart.
Violence had stilted his life, robbed him of innocence. His repeated visits to the cemetery fed his obsession for penance as a sole survivor like an addict on a fix, but the pain and emptiness never went away. Over the years, he'd become the master at erecting barriers to keep people at a distance. Hiding his emotional scars had become second nature, a draining effort. Now, someone else knew his pain—all of it. And he'd let it happen. Somehow it felt right. With her, it had been effortless.
Making love to Raven forged a deep bond between them. She touched him in a place he thought had died long ago. Nothing he'd experienced before matched how he felt, just holding her.
Drawing the comforter and sheets over their bodies, he nestled into her embrace, welcoming her comfort. He fit to her body like it was always meant to be— listening to the beat of her heart in the stillness of the early morning.
In her arms, he'd never felt so connected to another human being. The intimacy of the gesture seduced him. He drifted to sleep, completely letting go, reliving his pleasure with the woman who held him in her arms.