Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(25)
Author: Gena Showalter

She crossed her legs in a vain attempt to slow the warmth stirring in her core.

Would she always react to him?

No, please, no.

At least she was out of her skimpy uniform and in the world’s most expensive pair of flannel pj’s. Bellorie had sold the soft, snuggly outfit for a sapphire brooch, a ruby choker and an emerald bracelet. Parting with the jewels hurt. Bad. But there was no way she would have shown up for this meeting so scantily dressed, and she had no other clothes.

Tomorrow, she and the girls were going shopping. She could hardly wait.

Thane looked her over, his gaze hooded and sensual, but hiding his thoughts. He arched one golden brow. “You aren’t curious about your surroundings?”

“Not really.” Though she did like seeing him in his natural habitat. “Been here, searched everything already.”

A terrible kind of stillness came over him. “You have.” A statement, not a question.

Survival instincts flashed a yellow light inside her mind. Proceed with caution. “Well, yeah. I had to pass through to get to your—” She motioned to his bedroom with a wave of her hand. “Afternoon delight. But I didn’t touch anything! Mostly.”

A volcano of fury erupted in his eyes, startling her. “Adrian,” he called in a quiet tone. And yet, she heard the promise of pain and suffering.

The male entered the room.

“Did you forget my orders?” Thane asked, still using that shudder-inducing tone.

What were his orders? What was going on here?

Head high, Adrian said, “I did not. Savy and Chanel were gone. Only Bellorie and Elin remained.”

Uh-oh. Somehow, Elin had gotten him in trouble. “I was happy to help. Honest.” Liar. “Well, honest-ish. Like I said, I didn’t touch your stuff. Much. And I didn’t break anything. For reals.”

Thane ignored her, saying to Adrian, “Never again. Do you understand?”

She noticed he didn’t bother with an “or else.” But then, he mustn’t need to.

Adrian nodded and backed from the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Never again what?” Elin asked. “Disobey you?”

“That, too.”

“But he didn’t.”

“He did. And now, that line of conversation is over.” A moment passed before Thane’s features smoothed out, the sheen of rage falling away. He still managed to give off an uneasy vibe. Why? Because she’d seen his postcoital leftovers?

He stood, and her eyes widened as he approached her.

In her mind, the yellow light flashed again. Yellow. Yellow. Suddenly red. She stiffened. What was he going to do?

“I’m innocent!” she shouted.

“How many times must I reassure you?”

He merely sat on the coffee table in front of her, his knees caging her legs, and she breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t so bad. Then he placed scabbed-over palms on the tops of her thighs. The contact electrified her, and she had to mask a gasp with a cough. And, oh, his champagne scent was even stronger now, making the ache so much worse.

“What happened to your hands?” she asked in an effort to distract herself.

“What was deserved.”

O-kay. But why had he deserved to be cut? And did the wounds hurt him? Acting on impulse, she kissed the tip of her index finger and lightly pressed it on the angriest wound, as her mother used to do to her.

“There. They have to get better now.”

He sat very still, his expression frozen.

It hit her then. What she’d done—and to whom she’d done it. She nearly erupted in flames of embarrassment. “Uh, I mean… Wow, look at the time. Maybe I should go?”

His lids dipped to half-mast. “Stay.” As he peered at her, he ran his tongue over his lips. Then he moaned, as if he’d just tasted something sweet. The sight and sound were heady, hot enough to melt any woman’s resolve—even hers. “And thank you,” he said, whisper soft.

Not a rebuke. A total shocker. “You’re welcome,” she breathed.

A moment passed in silence, though her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Then, his gaze intently studying her face, he said, “How did you, a full human, come to live with the Phoenix?”

Full human.

She was right. He had no idea she was a halfling. And she had to keep it that way. “They killed my…my…” A lump grew in her throat. Sweat sheened her forehead, and a scream budded at the back of her throat.

Gently he cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. “This again.”

The contact centered her—delighted her. “This?”

“The panic. Why?” he asked. “You truly are not in any danger.”

She closed her eyes to gather strength, and said, “I was remembering when I was in danger. The Phoenix killed my husband and father, and enslaved me and my mother.”

“You were married?” The words lashed like a whip. He released her as if he’d just found out she was a carrier for the worst disease ever. “How long?”

Okay. Not the bit of info she’d expected to garner a reaction. Why did her marital status even matter? “Yes, I was married. For the best three months of my life.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she parroted. What kind of question was that?

“Why were they the best?”

“Because we loved each other.” Why else? “He was compassionate and caring, sweet and gentle, and the best thing to ever happen to me.”

A sheet of displeasure glazed Thane’s irises as he rubbed two fingers along the curve of his jaw.

Why displeasure?

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty-one.”

“So young.” He reached out and pinched a lock of her hair, tickling her scalp. Guess she’d been cured of the disease. “How long were you with the Phoenix?”

She resisted the urge to pull away—and the stronger urge to lean closer. “A year.”

“A year. Twelve months. Fifty-two weeks. Three hundred and sixty-five days. Quite a long time for someone of your species.” His tone gentled, becoming achingly kind. “How many horrors did you suffer during that time?”

The moisture in her mouth dried. She wanted to tell him. Perhaps he would comfort her.

Comfort, she’d learned, was a commodity far more precious than sex.

Can’t go there with him. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she croaked.

He sighed, nodded. “I understand.”

He wasn’t going to press? Another shocker. It made her want to open up, if only a little, about something. “We had an ally at camp for a few weeks. There was a girl, a Harpy. Neeka the Unwanted. Do you remember her?” She didn’t wait for his response. “She was only there for a short time before another clan came and stole her away, but she was nice to me, and I heard she was nice to you during your short overlap. Word is, she even beat the fire out of Kendra—almost literally—when the princess paraded you around camp naked and—”