Chapter Twenty-Three

Mel allowed him to pull her to her feet. She nodded at a few people as they passed, and they smiled, but she could feel their reticence. Did they think of her as something less because she couldn’t hear them? More likely they were confused by the fact that they couldn’t read her. They probably relied on that heavily to assess people, to weed out potential enemies. She was a mystery to them. They were bound to be wary.

Mel suspected that she’d missed the majority of what had gone on in that meeting. She’d gotten the distinct impression that much of it was going on at a level closed to her.

But she had sensed Quinn’s anger. You didn’t need to be telepathic to see his clenched fists and tight jaw.

But Janelle had soothed his temper and Mel wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Jealous?

A totally alien concept.

She pushed the thought from her mind, because it made her feel uncomfortable, as though the world she knew was shifting beneath her feet. Hell, the world she knew was two thousand years away. It didn’t even exist yet, and might not ever exist, if she messed up.

But apart from the undercurrents, she’d also sensed that there was something Quinn was keeping from her. Something related to this secret.

As they climbed the stairs to their room, she considered the pros and cons of bringing it out into the open, of asking him straight out if he was keeping stuff from her. And why? Obviously, he didn’t entirely trust her.

He tugged her into the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind them. It was dark outside now, and he released her, crossed the room and switched on the floor lamp. It filled the room with a rosy glow from the crimson shade. As he turned back to her, he was tugging his T-shirt over her head, then he balled it in his fist and tossed it on the floor. He stalked toward her, and the muscles of her stomach clenched while her insides turned molten.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growled.

She’d never seen him like this, almost predatory, and shivers prickled across her skin, her nipples tightening. He unbuckled his belt, then flicked open the button on his jeans and her mouth went dry. She licked her lips as she shrugged out of her jacket, her fingers fumbling on the buttons of her shirt. She was clearly too slow for him, though. He reached out, took the two sides and ripped it open. She was naked beneath, her nipples hard little peaks. He stepped up closer and she automatically backed away. There was something so dangerous about him tonight.

He considered her for a moment out of narrowed eyes, then toed off his boots and shed his jeans in one efficient move. He was good at this—had he had a lot of practice? But he was naked and only inches away and gloriously aroused and the thoughts in her head were dissolving to nothingness replaced by a mindless mixture of want and need.

“Clothes,” he reminded her.

She shook her head, then somehow managed to tear her gaze from his erection and shrugged out of her torn shirt.

“And the rest.”

She unfastened her pants, pushed them down with her underwear and quickly, she was as naked as he was.

“Finally,” he murmured.

Reaching out, he trailed a finger over her nipples sending darts of pleasure to her sex, a slow throbbing starting up between her legs. He lowered his head, kissed one taut peak and then straightened far too soon. He rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her gently, then lowered his head again and this time kissed the soft place where her neck met her shoulder. Shivers ran through her. He caressed down the length of her back, and over the swell of her ass. Her skin was so sensitive. She could feel the heat and wetness between her legs. He was driving her crazy and doing it so slowly.

Going down on his knees behind her, he kissed and licked his way down her spine. Her legs trembled, and she rested her hands against the cool plaster of the wall for balance as she concentrated on the feel of his mouth on her skin. He reached her ass and bit down, and her forehead fell to the wall. His hands were on her thighs, parting her legs, his mouth on her inner thigh as all the sensations built and coalesced. Her muscles were all locked tight now, waiting for his touch. Finally, his long fingers slipped between the folds of her sex.

“Christ, you are so wet.”

He pushed inside her, causing everything to tingle, then out, sliding over her, finding her clit with sure fingers. Teasing her, with circles around and around until her hips were pushing back against him and small moans were slipping from her throat. Finally, he touched her where she needed him most and she went still. He massaged the little nub, softly, then harder, building pleasure, then pinching between his fingers and she shattered into a thousand parts.

She was hardly aware of him sliding up her body, pushing inside her with the ripples of her orgasm still echoing through her. Filling her, his hands came around her to cup her breasts, enfolding her in his embrace until they really did feel like one. Then they were moving together, her mind empty of everything but the ebb and flow of their bodies. One hand slid down to cup her sex and his fingers found the sensitive nub. He touched her, and she came again so sweetly and gently that her whole body sang. She was aware of his final thrust, then his face was buried in her shoulder as he pumped inside her.

They stayed still for a long time while her heartbeat slowed, and the last tremors racked her body.

She felt him take a deep breath and release his hold on her, and a sense of loss filled her. She didn’t want to delve into the implications. She couldn’t lose what was never hers. His hands were on the wall on either side of her, caging her in, and he pushed himself away. She stayed where she was as he walked to the bathroom, hearing the water as he turned on the taps to the big bath. She was almost scared to move, afraid she might break.

What was happening to her?

He came back, took her hand and tugged her around to face him. He appeared as dazed as she felt. “That was…amazing,” he said.

She managed a nod. She didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to be responsible for whatever words might fall out of her mouth if she opened it now, so she kept her lips clamped tight.

He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, then lowered her into the warm water. The bath was easily big enough for two and he climbed in across from her, his legs mingling with hers in the water. He rested back and closed his eyes, so she did the same and eventually the warmth soothed her, and her thoughts calmed. This wasn’t a disaster. Maybe sex always felt like this in his century.

She opened her eyes, sat upright, and found him watching her with a lazy half smile on his face. “What?” she asked.

“Regardless of whatever is going on between us, whatever you’re keeping from me, that was the most intense thing I have ever experienced.”

She bit her lip, forced herself to ask the question. “It’s not normally like that for you?”

“Shit, no. Sex was always good, but it was just a fun way to relieve tension. This was so much more.” So there went that theory. “Are you telling me it’s always that intense for you?”

For a moment, she thought about lying, but right now she couldn’t, and she didn’t know why. Everything was going wrong. She shook her head. “No.”

“Good.”

There was nothing good about it, but he looked happy and relaxed, and she couldn’t bring herself to spoil things and wipe the smile from his face. Instead, she changed the subject.

“I’ve never had a bath with anyone before,” she said.

“Me, neither.” He flicked water into her face and she blinked. “Let’s hope it’s the first of many firsts.”

She closed her eyes again because she didn’t want him to see the guilt in her eyes. What the hell was she doing? She should be staying objective. But there were no anomalies here, nothing to set off her alarm. She didn’t have to make a choice. Not yet, at least. She suspected the truth was back where it all started. In Uganda, with this mysterious secret. But she only had one more day left. There was no time to go and investigate. She could return, though. Or maybe she’d get them to send someone else back to Uganda. She wouldn’t have to make the decision. Because, really, she was compromised. But how was she supposed to explain why?

Maybe it wouldn’t come to that.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

At the endearment, she felt a pricking in her eyes. She blinked, then looked at him and forced a smile. She couldn’t save him. He wasn’t hers to save. And if he knew the truth, he’d hate her for the lies.

“Nothing,” she said. “Let’s go to bed.”