Beloved Forever - Part 19
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Part 19

Nicholas stepped closer to her, nudging her chin around to meet his gaze. "It didn't feel harmless. You hurt me."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Unconsciously, she touched her cheek. "Youhurt me too."

He nodded. "I know." Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, mussing the tight ponytail. "I can't seem to control my anger around you. I think it would be better to let you go." His eyes were flat, and his voice was full of pain.

Her heart stuttered, and she shook her head. Something had changed after the dream, and she didn't want him to send her away. She touched his arm, as tears broke free. "Please don't."

"You would be safer." He shook his head. "With Koss here, you shouldn't be near me. I'll arrange-"

"No!" Emily threw herself against him. "I won't leave. You can't send me away. Not now, when..."

He frowned as his arms settled around her, seemingly automatically. "Why? I thought you'd be pleased when I decided to do this earlier. You can stay at Vallsade Manor for a time, until it's safe for you to go home."

She pressed her face against his chest, ignoring his stiff resistance. "I don't want to leave you."

"You'll be safe from him...and me." His voice was gruff. "You bring out the best and worst in me, Emily. I never should have changed you. You're much too young, and things have changed since the last time we were together. It's time to let this unnatural love die."

"Erin," she whispered. He stiffened even more, and she lifted her head. His features had formed into a scowl, but his eyes were moist. "She made you promise." She knew she was exposing her weaknesses to him, but it didn't matter. The only important thing was to dissuade his streak of n.o.bility. She would never figure out what her destiny was with Nicholas if he sent her away. She touched his cheek. "I made you promise."

A harsh sound ripped from Nicholas, and it sounded like a sob. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to step away from her.

She followed his movements. "She knew-"

"That was too long ago..."

She moved her hand from his cheek to his lips. "I don't want to leave now that things are starting to make sense. You have no right to make these choices for me."

He nodded, dislodging her finger, and his eyes opened. "Exactly. I had no right to do this. You should go while I have the strength to let you." He bowed his head, and his voice was shaky when he said, "I don't know how long I can do this. Leave. Now. Tremont will drive you anywhere-"

She cupped his face with her hands and urged him to lift his head. Their eyes met, and the air crackled with electricity. She stared into dark pools of pain and confusion, and all she wanted to do was ease his suffering. Emily tilted her chin and pressed her lips to his once more-softly, hesitantly, waiting for him to push her away.

He groaned as his fingers tangled in her hair, and his mouth pressed against hers. His tense muscles relaxed. Emily let go of his face and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull his body closer to hers. She slipped her tongue through his lips, sensing she was in control, and he would wait for her to set the pace.

She stroked his tongue lightly, unsure of herself, even though there was a sense of familiarity about each action, as if she had touched him this way many times before.

She flicked her tongue against the tip of his and almost giggled when his body jerked. Her surge of feminine power weakened when Nicholas's hands framed her waist and pulled her more tightly against his lower body, bringing her in intimate contact with his hard c.o.c.k. He wanted her. Her p.u.s.s.y quavered at the knowledge.

She might have been more afraid if she hadn't witnessed his vulnerability. Emily ran her tongue across his fangs as she nudged him toward the couch. She thought briefly of Tremont seeing them, but didn't care.

When Nicholas reversed their stance and pressed her back against the sofa, she stared up at him and licked her lips.

He stood above her, bent forward at the waist so they were still touching. His dark eyes burned with liquid heat, and his c.o.c.k pressed against her thigh. His hands moved to the b.u.t.tons on her shirt.

She smiled at him as his fingers fumbled with the tiny b.u.t.tons of the white shirt she had changed into at one of the stores. She grinned, imagining his frustration when he found the same b.u.t.tons at the hip of the matching pants. She could see his frustration growing and put her hands over his to stop him. "I'll do it."

Emily's eyes widened at the husky note of pa.s.sion in her voice. She couldn't recall ever feeling like this.

She had burned for Nicholas before, but always with an urgency born from feeding. She didn't feel the same pressing need for release this time. Her movements were unhurried, and she saw tenderness in his eyes as she unfastened the tiny b.u.t.tons one at a time. They had connected on more than a physical level now, and the timing was right. She slipped off the shirt and dropped it over the couch to land on the cushions.

Nicholas brushed his fingers against the lacy cup of her white bra, and his breath hissed through his teeth.

He seemed to be moving with deliberate slowness too, as he slipped the bra strap down her shoulder.

His lips followed the path, and he pressed kisses against her flesh, without a hint of his teeth grazing her skin.

Emily put her arms around him, pulling him closer. His fangs sc.r.a.ped against her shoulder, and she winced at the dart of pain. He immediately pulled back to look into her eyes, and she summoned a smile, trying to hide her nervousness.

He tangled his hand in her hair. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She ignored the quivering in her stomach and nodded twice, rapidly. "Yes."

He stood up and lifted her into his arms. "There's a more appropriate place."

Emily put her arm around his shoulder, but didn't hold tightly. He wouldn't drop her. She cuddled closer to him, breathing in the scent of him. Underlying his expensive cologne and soap, she caught a faint whiff of blood. It reminded her she hadn't fed, and her stomach growled. However, the hunger wasn't urgent enough to supplant her desire for Nicholas.

He strode down the hallway and kicked open his bedroom door, placing her on her feet before closing the door behind them. Emily took the opportunity to examine his room and found it much the same ashers. His bed was larger, with four posts and a privacy screen. His furniture was more masculine and built larger, but it was as black as the carpet. Touches of red and silver contrasted with the black. The only deviation from the bland decor was the zebra-printed comforter on the bed, in alternating stripes of silver and black.

When he returned to her, he swept her into his arms. "You don't know how long I've waited for this."

His voice had become a rough growl, but there was a hint of tenderness underneath.

"I think I do." Her stomach lurched again when her gaze skittered to the bed and settled on the comforter. She had an image of the two of them writhing on the bed, and she shivered. The thought excited and alarmed her simultaneously.

As his lips brushed against hers, the phone rang. Emily started to pull away, but he tightened his hold.

"Ignore it." He buried his face in her neck as the phone rang again. "It's not important."

She closed her eyes and tilted her head, waiting for his teeth to sink through the skin of her neck.

Instead, he licked her. She frowned, and then remembered the blood in her veins was now tainted.

The phone rang again, and she stiffened. "Nicholas..."

He sighed impatiently and lifted his head. "Tremont will handle it." As he spoke, the phone trilled again, but cut off in mid-ring. His lips slashed into a smile that revealed a hint of his teeth. "There. All's quiet.

We won't be disturbed again."

She nodded and laid her head on his chest, unable to prevent a whimper when his hands moved to the clasp of her bra. When he stopped moving, she lifted her head. "What?"

He sighed. "I don't think we should do this."

She swallowed down an instinctive dart of relief. Emily shook her head. "I want to. I want you. I'm just..." She hesitated and licked her lips. "I'm kind of nervous. I've never..." She looked down, trying to suppress the tinge of pink blossoming on her cheeks.

"I know. That's why we should wait." He stepped away from her. "You're still confused. In a few days-"

"No. I don't want to wait." She took a step forward so they were touching again. "I'm ready now."

"Emily-" A knock interrupted whatever he might have said. He strode to the door wearing a frown.

Emily darted behind the bed and drew the privacy curtain across her upper body to hide her bra.

Tremont didn't come in, but his voice carried to her. She didn't catch the words, but caught his sense of urgency. When Nicholas closed the door, she sensed their interlude was over for now, but not for long.

She was determined to make him understand she was ready, despite her fear. He hadn't let her fears in other lives dissuade him.

She stepped away from the curtain and walked over to him. He was straightening his appearance in the mirror on the wall when she brushed a hand down his arm. "What's wrong?"

"My warehouse is on fire." He spoke in clipped tones. "I need to get down there. My insurance agent ismeeting me there, and I know the police will want a statement." His movements were stiff and jerky, and his eyes sparkled with rage.

"What caused the fire?" she asked softly.

He shrugged as he walked to the door. "The man Tremont spoke with didn't say, but I don't doubt it was Koss."

She gasped. "Why would he? Please tell me what's happening, Nicholas."

He hesitated at the door, with his hand on the k.n.o.b. Nicholas sighed. "I don't have time right now, but I'll tell you everything when I get back. I promise."

She nodded, knowing she couldn't delay him, no matter how badly she needed an explanation. "Be careful."

He opened the door. "You'll be safe until I return. I'll shield the apartment, which should fool just about anyone." He hesitated once more, as his eyes moved over her, drinking her in. "Stay in the apartment, okay?"

She nodded. His demeanor brooked no argument, and his fear transmitted itself to her.

He cursed softly as he stepped back through the bedroom and strode to her, pulling her into his arms to press a kiss to her mouth. When he lifted his head, his eyes caught hers. "I don't want to leave you, but it isn't safe to take you with me."

"I know." She forced her arms to let go of him and made her legs take a step back. "I'll be waiting." He nodded once more and left, this time without hesitating.

She watched him go, biting on her tongue to beg him not to leave. She didn't understand why Koss tormented Nicholas, but she was terrified the other man would hurt him tonight. The sooner he was back, the sooner she could relax. The time would drag until his return, and she knew her thoughts would insist on imagining various tortures Koss might inflict upon him.

After slipping on a light blue shirt from Nicholas's closet and rolling up the sleeves, Emily walked down the hall to return to the living room. She found Tremont in the kitchen and let out a startled gasp. She clutched her chest, trying to slow her racing heart.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, panting to catch her breath. "I thought you'd gone with Nicholas. I was startled."

Tremont gave a lopsided shrug. "I don't always accompany the master. There can be...awkward questions. He asked me to stay with you tonight."

She smiled when she noticed he was making hot cocoa from scratch. "My mother used to make cocoa when I was sick, but that was years ago."

"If you would like to sit in the living room, I'll bring it through directly." She turned and walked into the living room, curling up on the burgundy sofa. A blush swept through her cheeks when she saw her blouse neatly folded on the coffee table. Tremont obviously knew what they had been doing. Her lips twisted into a tiny smile as she glanced down at Nicholas's too-large shirt covering her. If Tremont hadn't figured it out by seeing her in Nicholas's room, her wearing his shirt was another clue. She leaned back and tried to pretend it didn't embarra.s.s her. Tremont didn't seem bothered by the knowledge, and Nicholas certainly wasn't. She simply had to be more adult about the situation.

Emily was surprised at her ease of fighting back a flush when Tremont carried in the tray of cocoa and gingersnaps. She blinked back tears as a memory of sitting in bed and drinking cocoa with her mother flashed through her mind. She cleared her throat, reminding herself those times were over. "Thank you."

He inclined his head. "It is my pleasure, Miss Emily."

She sighed at his insistence of using "Miss" in front of her name, but knew he wouldn't change his mind.

After using her given name just once, he had taken to addressing her as Miss Emily. At least it wasn't Mistress.

"If there's nothing else, I'll retire to my room."

"If I need anything, I can get it."

He looked scandalized. "It is my job to see to your needs."

She chose not to answer. Instead, she lifted the mug of cocoa and sipped it through the layer of whipped cream. "Delicious. Thank you."

He nodded and left her without another word.

When he was gone, Emily sat on the sofa, wondering what she would do with herself. A few weeks ago, she might have watched a TV program, but didn't think any would keep her attention now. Still, it was background noise to blot out her thoughts. She didn't want to dwell on what Nicholas was doing right then, nor think about how things had changed between them tonight. However tacitly, she had accepted her new future. Even though they hadn't made love, there was no going back now.

She still didn't know how she felt about that. Being close to Nicholas was intoxicating, exciting and dangerous. Her old life had been safe and predictable. She had known exactly where it would lead her, at least through college. She wasn't ready to embrace the new enthusiastically, and couldn't quite turn her back on the old. She was in limbo, trapped between her choices.

Emily sighed deeply. Her weighty thoughts made no difference. No matter what course of action she decided on-if she could manage to choose one-she knew she would react to Nicholas, not act. She didn't seem capable of rational thought around him. Was that because her actions had already been predetermined by fate, or simply because she reacted so strongly to him as a man?

She sighed again as she reached for the remote. She was determined to clear her mind and tried to concentrate on a drama she vaguely recognized.

She must have had limited success in focusing her attention on the attorneys' plight, because the doorbell ringing caught her by surprise. She sloshed the remains of her cocoa down the side of the cup and stainedthe hem of Nicholas's shirt. With a muttered curse under her breath, she stood up and put the cup on the tray before lifting and carrying the serving dish from the living room.

The doorbell rang again as she entered the kitchen. She put the tray on the counter and turned to the front door. As Tremont appeared in the hallway and walked to the door, Emily froze. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and her stomach churned with nausea. As he reached the door, she said, "No, don't open it."

Tremont looked back at her with an expression of surprise. "But Miss Emily-"

She shook her head, struggling to remember something Nicholas had said. Her eyes widened. "Nicholas shielded the apartment before he left. How is someone at the door?"

Tremont's hand fell from the door, and he rushed toward her as fast as his squat legs would carry him.

"Run to the fire escape, out the kitchen window." He fumbled in his pocket and withdrew a cell phone.

"I'll call the master-"

Before Tremont finished the sentence, the door started shuddering. The wood groaned, and the door rattled in the frame. With a screech of protest, it tore free from its hinges and slammed against the wall of the entryway.

Emily's feet froze to the spot as Tremont placed himself in front of her. He was trembling badly, and the phone fell from his hand to the floor. She wanted to push him aside, but couldn't seem to move.

Seconds after the door opened so forcibly, four people stepped through the doorway. There were two men and one woman standing in front of another. He was taller than the others, but by a trick of the light, or his own powers, shadows obscured his face.

The two men in front of him were a study in contrast, except for their nearly identical jeans and dark coats. One had blond hair, with icy gray eyes. He looked to be in his late forties, on the chubby side. The younger man was dark-Hispanic or Mediterranean-with black hair, olive skin and smoldering dark eyes. He was short and slight, but held himself in way that suggested he was more than capable of handling any situation.

The woman's hair was as dark as the short man's, but her features were completely different. Her skin had a golden tinge to it, and she had oddly shaped amber eyes. Only a tiny sliver of sclera showed on either side of her large irises. She wore a flowing red dress topped with a black bolero jacket. She looked like she was all dressed up with no place to go, and her planned outing had been more than a hundred years ago.

Emily's paralysis broke as the man hidden behind them moved to the front of the group. The others stepped aside for him with the same gracefulness inherent in Nicholas's movements. She guessed they were all vampires, and all older than she. With a muted cry, she turned to run, desperate to avoid meeting Koss face-to-face. She had no doubt it was he approaching her.

"Halt a moment, Emily." He spoke with a rich baritone, and it held a trace of an accent she didn't recognize.

As he spoke, her limbs turned to stone. She couldn't move, no matter how she struggled to lift her feet.