Kevin tried to convince himself the callous answer he’d given Raina had been for the best. Because any other answer would have brought her right back into his arms and that would have been a disaster. His wife’s unexpected passion had blindsided him. Until he could figure out how to gather his self-control, he needed her anger. Right now, he had it.
But he didn’t want anger.
No, he’d much rather have Raina. All of Raina. A dangerous desire he couldn’t afford.
She sat in silence across from him in the carriage. Only the occasional kick from her foot dangling in the air from her crossed legs let him know she was still awake. Kevin wondered if he grabbed that foot, slipped her shoe off, and caressed his way up her calf, if she’d stop him. His fingers twitched to find out. His teeth gritted against the swift logical reminder she wasn’t his to touch.
In a couple weeks Synintel would passively demand Kevin do the honorable thing and release his daughter. Since Kevin wanted nothing more than to be free of the spectacle of high society, and the restrictions and obligations brought on by holding a ranked Guardian position, he’d give them a one-finger salute and gladly bow his way back home. Something he couldn’t do if he claimed Raina as his wife. She deserved better. And she definitely deserved better than he’d be able to give after they stripped away his rank.
Finally, the house loomed in the shadows of night. Kevin jumped out before the carriage came to a complete stop, needing distance from Raina before he did something truly stupid. He didn’t do the honorable thing and wait for her, offering his assistance from the vehicle. The moment her hand touched his, she’d be back in his arms, and the only place they’d go from there would be upstairs. To a bed.
Growling in aggravation, Kevin slammed the side door open and closed it just as heavily. The kitchen area was empty and not a sound echoed in the house besides his booted footfalls. A single lamp burned on the switchback to the second story, lighting the stairs enough to make them safe in the darkness. Kevin ignored the steps and went to his study.
Once inside the small space Raina had designated his in her sprawling house, aside from his bedroom, he leaned against the closed door and took several slow, centering breaths. If he’d been in his own house, he’d be punching and kicking out the pent-up emotions. Here he had nothing to help ease his inner turmoil. The five a.m. workout he conducted daily with his teammates wouldn’t come soon enough.
At his desk, he sat, then pulled a clean piece of staff paper from a drawer. Staring at the perfectly straight, evenly spaced lines, he thrummed his fingers on the desk. If his mother had had her way, Kevin’s Gen-Heir ability would have been music. But in his second year of secondary education at Sziveria Royale Academia, an aggressive assault on him had unlocked his true talent. The poor idiots who’d attacked him hadn’t stood a chance.
Within weeks of the fight, he’d been pulled from the school and sent to a military training facility. Two years later, he was on Sean Blackbain’s team with Mason Dandridge. Katria had arrived into the fold years later, and the Guardian Intel Team had been complete.
Everyone needed an escape though, and his first love still called. After drawing the elegant curves of the clef on the first set of staff lines, Kevin pushed negative thoughts away and focused on the notes drifting through his mind. He hummed the first line, writing in a language that hadn’t changed for millenniums.
After the first few pages, it became painfully apparent he’d actually need a piano to make sure the pacing and flow of notes were in harmony. But that’d mean sharing a part of himself he rather enjoyed keeping away from others. A secret oasis for his battered body and soul.
Shuffling the partially constructed sheet music into a neat stack, he slid all the papers into the desk drawer. A dull ache settled in his shoulders, and he stretched as he stood. At some point, he’d have to decide when his body was too old, too scarred, too jaded to fight for a cause that was rarely his own. But he was only twenty-seven. The First Intelligence Office still expected at least a decade more, regardless of how he felt about the matter.
If Synintel did what he planned, Kevin could walk away from their summons as well. The only reason he aided now was to keep from going crazy of boredom in the Hall of Laws. Each ranked Guardian either served as a commissioned civil servant to one of the many branches of military or law enforcement, or served their peers as a vote from a seat. Since being on commission also allowed Kevin to simply be Kevin Merrick, not Raiventon, he’d jumped at the opportunity to use his skills and travel. Guardian ranks held no place in the military or law system.
Until Raina’s responsive kiss shifted something deep inside him, he wondered if being the Master Guardian Raiventon wasn’t all that bad after all.
He scoffed at the absurdity. If a kiss had him rolling over like a dog, what would actually touching her do, let alone sharing her bed? The prospect didn’t bode well. He crossed the room, hoping his far too delectable wife was safely closed in her room.
Kevin froze the second he opened the door to his study. Someone waited for him. An energy of expectation thrummed in the air. The breathing the person tried to hide echoed in the stillness. Darkness blanketed the house. Silently he took a step back into the recess of the doorway and waited. Like fire through his veins, the familiar onset of adrenaline forced his eyes closed, unlocking his genetic ability. Neither touch or logic-based, Kevin’s genetically inherited talent was in a class all its own.
A high endorphin rush made most people jumpy, on edge and prone to erratic response. Kevin reacted in a different manner. Every sense heightened, from hearing to smell. Muscle memory became a rapidly triggered response, a flash of motion most would never perceive. His body tense, his mind would soon process movement at a rate that appeared to make actions slow. He usually knew an aggressor’s move before they did by the micro gestures they made before committing to an attack.
A flare of silver from the left came in warning. Kevin crouched low. Air shifted above him. Shadows moved enough to give him perspective. Fisting his hands, he sent a hard punch up with his left hand, connecting with the sensitive tissue between a man’s legs. When the man bent over, gagging, Kevin threw his right fist under the opponent’s jaw, snapping his head back. The body slumped to the floor, muffled by fabric and the carpet runner.
Harmless, the knife clattered to the ground where Kevin left it. He waited, listening. Patience his ally. Two masses lurched forward. At the correct second, Kevin leapt and executed a split kick. The two men flew through the air. One landed on a table, splintering the wood, the other into a wall, bouncing forward.
Kevin engaged the invader still upright against the wall. A solid hit to his diaphragm and another to his temple. Before the man landed on the floor, Kevin was atop the intruder attempting to rise from the busted table. With a simultaneous knee to the assailant’s breastbone and punch to across his jaw, Kevin eliminated another threat.
“Kevin?” Raina’s uncertain voice drifted down from upstairs.
Kevin glanced at the banister. The moment of distraction cost him. A slice of fire spread across his shoulder blade and the back of his bicep. Hissing, Kevin spun and kicked the knife from his attacker. “Do not come down here! Stay upstairs!”
“But—”
Frustration made him hit the man who’d likely cut Kevin’s back and arm open hard enough to send teeth flying. “I said stay!”
The slamming of her door echoed. Kevin made quick work of what he hoped was the last attacker, swiping his legs out from under him with a head hit on the way down. No one even flinched or groaned as Kevin quickly checked for weapons and made sure they remained unconscious. Minutes later he held two pistols and three knives.
He shoved a gun in the back of his pants, threw the knives into a deep vase near the stairs, and then cocked a round into the chamber of the second pistol in his grip. Last time the attackers had remained solely downstairs. Since this time they had no way of knowing where in the house he was located, he wasn’t risking any intruders hiding out.
After clearing the remaining first story, he kicked off his shoes before silently creeping up the stairs. He searched every room, closet and alcove. When he reached Raina’s room, he found the door locked. Staying calm, he gently tapped on the door.
“It’s me, open up,” he said evenly.
The door cracked open. Kevin waited until he was sure she was clear before pushing it open completely. She gasped and pressed against the wall beside the doorframe when he entered, gun leading.
“What’s happening?”
“Anyone in here with you?”
She sputtered and then managed, “No! Why would you think I’m not alone?”
Confident her room was safe, he lowered the gun. “I was attacked downstairs.”
“What?” Her eyes widened and she grasped handfuls of her nightgown. “Again? Are you okay?”
Just to ease his mind, Kevin checked her closet. She padded after him. “I’m fine.”
“What are they after?”
Then he turned and crossed the distance and checked her dressing room. She followed. “I’m not sure.”
“What are you looking for?”
When he turned, she slammed into his chest. Kevin gripped her upper arm with his free hand. “I needed to make sure you’re safe.”
Raina’s beautiful eyes stared up at him with an innocence he wished he could remember having. “Oh.”
The word came out on a breath, teasing his already high-strung senses. Unable to resist the temptation, he pressed a quick, fleeting kiss to her lips before releasing her. “Stay upstairs.”
The soft falls of her feet chasing after him followed to the stairs. “What are you doing?”
“Taking out the trash.”
Raina dashed around the landing to the room across from hers. For the second time in less than a week, someone had broken into her home. Kevin had simply told her of the first attack. This time she’d heard for herself. At the window overlooking the long sidewalk to the gated entrance, she saw the evidence as Kevin dragged two unconscious men away from the house by their ankles. Their heads bobbed along the paved walk, their limp arms dragging. At least she hoped they were merely unconscious.
Kevin left the men just outside the gate and then returned. The lithe, predatory way he made his way back to the house sent a shiver up her spine. Before tonight she couldn’t imagine him taking on intruders. Now she’d seen him carry a gun like an extension of his arm and move with a strength and grace she hadn’t noticed before. Or hadn’t wanted to.
Rubbing her arms, she stepped away from the cold window. Once again she wondered what Kevin’s role was with the FIO. She wandered back to her room, leaving the door open. Minutes passed. Unsure what else to do, she sat on the edge of her bed and waited.
Soundless, a shadow crossed by her door.
A spike of adrenaline coursed through her veins, flushing along her skin. She reminded herself Kevin had checked upstairs. But surely she would have heard him on the steps? Several of the boards were loose and creaked under any weight, even her own, and he more than doubled her in size.
Rising from the bed, she tiptoed to the wall beside her door. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the wooden frame. For a moment she waited, listening. Silence continued to reign. Slowly she edged into the hallway and then to the railing overlooking the stairway. Peering down, nothing but darkness greeted her. She glanced to her left and noted a faint, shadowy light under Kevin’s door. She frowned. Had he passed by her door?
Raina worried her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating whether to go to her room, or to Kevin’s. She had questions, and if she were honest, she was a little scared to be alone. However, if she continued with that same honesty, she’d also admit being alone with him wasn’t wise.
A faint pulsing sensation still thrummed at her center. An awakened need she hadn’t known existed nor understood. All she did know was Kevin’s passionate kiss caused the stirring. What if he kissed her again? What would happen? More importantly, was she ready? Raina closed her eyes. No, not yet. While Kevin wasn’t the enigma he’d been a week ago, she still knew so little about him. Husband or not, a stranger wasn’t welcome in her bed.
Never mind the kiss had seemed to mean considerably less to him than to her.
With resolve, Raina squared her shoulders and walked to his door. She’d ask her questions, keep her distance, and then leave. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the knob. The door fell open, revealing Kevin’s back. His shirt slid free of his muscled shoulders. All of Raina’s carefully laid plans floated away when she spotted the dried blood that had at one point ran down his back and arm.
“You’re hurt!” Not considering the repercussions, she rushed into the room, reaching for his injuries. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He hissed as her fingers touched just outside the wound on his shoulder and he shied away. Raina immediately withdrew.
“They aren’t serious, I’ll be fine.”
The calm way he spoke opened her eyes in a different way. The dim, moving light of the lamp on his nightstand etched a myriad of scars in harsh relief across his back, arms and sides. She wanted to force him around to see if his chest was equally adorned. Unable to stop, she traced a long, thin white line from his shoulder to his hip. Tears stung behind her eyes.
“What has my father done to you?”
“You should be more concerned about what I’m going to do to you if you don’t stop.” The husky spoken statement left a promise that sent every nerve in Raina’s body on full alert.
Slowly, Raina lowered her hand. She glanced around the impersonal room. Not a rug on the floor, or a painting on the walls. Only a large four poster bed, dresser, desk, two chairs in front of a cold fire and a book shelf with three empty shelves adorned the otherwise spacious room. Furniture she’d picked out four years ago for him when he hadn’t done the task himself. She hadn’t understood then he wouldn’t be using the room. The space still wasn’t his. Nothing felt like Kevin.
Sighing, she went to the desk and grabbed the chair. Kevin remained like a statue. Raina dropped the chair behind him. “Sit.”
He glanced over his shoulder his gray eyes dark in the moody light. “What?”
“I said sit, let me take care of those cuts.” When the only reaction to her request was clenched fists, she added, “Please.”
With a heavy exhalation, he planted himself in the chair. “I have a medical kit in my chest on the other side of the bed.”
Raina went to the chest. Inside were neatly folded clothes, some worn books, loose sheets of paper and a canvas bag that she assumed was the kit. She made sure before removing the bag and closing the top.
“Take out what I need while I go wet a washcloth to clean off the blood,” she said.
He accepted the bag. “I can take care of myself, you know. Been doing it for over a decade.”
“I can’t imagine how you’ll clean the cut on your shoulder. Unless you have eyes in the back of your head?”
The sound of his faint chuckle followed her into his bathroom. “No, even I can’t watch my own back.”
Raina wetted a washcloth, hating the water would be so cold, but she figured in the amount of time it would take to heat, Kevin would probably change his mind about allowing her to help. Cold water would do. Back in the room, she paused a moment, taking in his strong frame. The muted, shifting light danced off the muscled plains of his arms, shoulders and back, defining the smooth ridges. Even sitting, he was almost taller than her. If she were to walk to his front, he wouldn’t have to bend down to kiss her, and she wouldn’t have to rise on her toes… The temptation had her closing the distance to his wounds.
“Seems you did a decent job to me.”
He shrugged. “There were only five, and they weren’t coordinated.”
Gently, Raina began cleaning away the dried blood. The canvas of violence painted on his body tore at her heart. She stopped cleaning. “What do you do for my father?”
A small glass jar appeared over his shoulder. “Put this on, it will keep them from getting infected.”
The heat of his skin burned through her fingers as she smoothed the silky cream along the injuries. Why did he keep ignoring her question?
“Do they look deep?” he asked over his shoulder.
“No.”
He grunted in reply.
The desire to kiss his shoulder near his neck and taste his skin came over Raina so strongly she had to take a deep breath. His subtle, clean, masculine scent invaded her nostrils and made her all too aware of how little clothing they both wore.
What is wrong with me?
Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, Raina tried to find rational thought. Never in her life had a man affected her in such a profound, disturbing manner. Enbrackon always brought a tremor of fear, and a tinge of guilt, but nothing more. Other men who’d entered her space, kissed her cheek, or hand, even touched her wrist intimately, had elicited little more than annoyance.
Desperate, she wanted to ask Kevin if he were having a similar issue, but then he’d know how deeply he’d affected her. And the risk of him having such knowledge wasn’t an option.
A man’s power over a woman could be measured by his control of her.
The moment Raina allowed Kevin to know he had such control would be the moment she lost any she might have had. It was the very reason she’d never allowed the Shield Guardian more than a touch to her elbow or a kiss to her knuckles. Currently Enbrackon held all the cards of her career. He wouldn’t have anything else.
Steeling herself against the effects of touching Kevin, she smoothed more salve on his bicep. The muscle twitched and tightened beneath her gentle caress. Raina’s pulse throbbed through every part of her body. “Okay, all finished.”
His hand appeared over his shoulder and Raina set the small jar on his open palm. Against better judgement she took a step forward until the heat of his naked back radiated through the thin silk of her nightgown. Closing her eyes, she lifted her hands, intent on smoothing them along the tops of his shoulders, wanting to know with a need she didn’t understand how his skin felt beneath her fingers.
“You need to go.” The deep, hoarse words penetrated the fog of her mind. They weren’t spoken in anger, rather in a strained manner that once again held a promise she knew she wasn’t ready to collect on.
Or was she?
No. Quickly she turned on her heel and strode from his room without looking back, knowing if she did, she’d change her mind.