Last Kiss Goodnight

chapter Twenty-seven



Sustain me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, because I am lovesick.

—SONG OF SOLOMON 2:5

WHILE HER SWEET, EXHAUSTED Solo took a nap, Vika dressed and enjoyed a wonderful dry enzyme shower. She heated a bowl of tomato soup and ate it while studying the cabin. It was bigger than she’d expected and quite homey, with log walls and comfortable, well-worn furniture. A soft brown rug covered the living room floor, and pictures of roses and lilies covered the walls. An even softer rug covered the kitchen floor, and pots and pans hung from a metal rack just above the granite island counter.

An eclectic mix of old and new, as though a man and a woman had shared the decorating responsibility. The man had decided what belonged on the floors, and the woman had decided what belonged on the walls.

Was Solo’s boss married? she wondered. If so, what would the female think of Vika? She had never socialized with people outside the circus, and wasn’t sure she knew how to make a good impression.

For that matter, what would Solo’s friends think of her? Would they slap Solo on the back for a job well done, as males sometimes liked to do, or would they pull him aside and warn him to stay away from her?

How would Solo react if they did?

He’d once told her they would protect her, but that didn’t mean they would like her or approve of her. A burning heat inched up the center of her chest, one that had nothing to do with pleasure.

“Worry only buys you wrinkles,” her mother used to say. “Well, those and rotten bones.”

Vika forced the depressing thoughts out of her mind and peered out the ice-fogged window. Now that she was toasty warm, she could enjoy the sheer winter majesty around her. And maybe . . . maybe her love also stemmed from the fact that, for the first time in her life, she didn’t have to fear doing or saying the wrong thing and “earning” a beating. She was safe. Solo would never physically hurt her, something he’d proven again and again as he’d fought to save her.

She was . . . cherished. Yes. She was. No matter what his friends might say about her!

The man had kissed and touched her, and he’d done it with unabashed relish, intense need, and a hint of joy. She had loved every second and had only craved more. Nothing he’d done had scared her. Everything had excited her, softened her.

I’m so glad I waited for him.

Was that the way making love was for everyone?

No. No way. The things she’d witnessed throughout the years had confirmed the opposite. Sex could be violent, explosive, angry, or laughing, fun, and seemingly carefree. But tender? No, she’d never witnessed that. What she and Solo had done was special, and she would hold the memory in her heart for all of eternity.

A movement outside claimed her focus.

Heart picking up speed, she abandoned her soup to race around the kitchen counter and press her nose against the window glass. Roughly forty yards away, a gorgeous white tiger prowled from one patch of trees to another, leaving a ruby line in his wake.

Ruby . . . blood? Was he injured?

Had to be. Only desperation for help would have brought him so close to human life.

But . . . she shouldn’t help him. She wasn’t foolish. Well, not all the time. She knew he was a wild animal, unlike her tame, fun-loving Dobi with the marking problem. She suspected he would bite her head off if given half a chance. Or even one-third of a chance. Fine, even if she failed to offer him any kind of chance. But . . . she couldn’t leave him out there, injured, without at least trying to aid him.

I know what you’re thinking, X suddenly said, appearing on her shoulder. And it would be my pleasure to help you. I can prevent the beast from attacking you.

“Really?”

Yes, really. But first, I want to show you something. It’s the reason I came, and I might be too weak after we help your little friend out there to show you later. He flattened his tiny hand on her nape, and pictures of Solo’s life began to flash through her mind.

Solo—a little boy only his parents had loved.

Solo—a kid no one had wanted to hang around.

Solo—a teenager the girls had laughed at. He’d never even been on a genuine date. The only girl he’d liked had used him for her own selfish needs.

Solo—a man only the most depraved of women had desired.

“You’re ugly,” a thousand people had said to him.

“You’re disgusting,” a thousand more had said.

Solo—a warrior who had decided to spend the rest of his life alone. That way, no one else could hurt him.

Oh, the pain this man had endured . . . so like her own. How dare anyone treat him so poorly? While she had deserved the hatred thrust at her, he had not. And how, how, how had he survived the circus? How could she have left him in that cage, time and time again?

Tears trickled down her cheeks.

I didn’t show his past so that you would pity him or even feel guilty, X said, but so that you would understand him a little better.

“He really is wonderful, isn’t he?”

He is. Now tend to the tiger before Solo wakes up and decides to stop you.

“You’re helping me. He won’t mind at all.”

And you are too innocent for words. Go!

As quietly as possible Vika tiptoed into the bathroom. It was the largest one she’d ever been in, triple the size of the one in her trailer and almost as large as the bedroom itself, with calming blue walls and a sink in the shape of a seashell. She stuffed the supplies she would need inside a basket she’d found in the living room—and there was plenty to choose from! She’d never seen so many bandages and medications.

Clearly, Michael was a man who liked to be prepared for anything.

As she tiptoed out, she kept her gaze on Solo. He was utterly still, his chest barely even rising as he breathed. His thick lashes were spiked, curling up at the edges, and his lips were parted, relaxed. He looked so wonderfully boyish.

A warm sense of contentment filled her, practically busting her skin at the seams. I don’t want to be without him, she realized. Ever. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go.

How did he feel about her? Truly feel? He desired her, yes. And he’d asked her to live on his farm. But how did he actually feel? How would he feel when all of the danger had passed?

Worry and wrinkle and rot, she reminded herself, swallowing back a sigh.

Hinges squeaked as she opened the door to the backyard, and she cringed. But Solo didn’t shout or come running so she continued on. The tiger was still there, still prowling—still bleeding.

“How are you going to calm him?” she asked X.

I have my ways.

They were several yards apart, but she could see that the blood flowed from the tiger’s front left leg. He’d stepped into some sort of trap, she would bet, for the skin and muscle had been punctured in three separate places.

Slowly she approached, X directing her steps. Cold air slapped at her, stinging. The tiger caught sight of her, blue eyes locking on her, and he stopped. One step, two, she continued her journey. His lips pulled back and he bared his saber teeth—long, sharp, deadly.

“Uh, X?” She considered dropping her basket and running.

I’ve got this.

The tiger crouched, as though ready to leap at her and feast on her bones. Her steps faltered.

He’s not going to leap. Now, move three inches to the left. Good. Now hop and angle toward the right.

Again she obeyed. “Why am I walking like this, anyway?”

To avoid security. Now, take a giant step forward, as if you’re stepping over a fallen tree. Good, now stop. Give me just a moment. With that, the being vanished.

He never appeared on or even near the tiger (to her knowledge), but suddenly the creature dropped to the snow-laden ground. He pushed out a heavy breath.

He’s all yours, X said, once again on her shoulder.

Vika closed the rest of the distance with much surer steps. She knelt beside the magnificent beast and scratched him behind the ears. “I’ll make you feel better,” she said. And, now used to Solo, added, “I vow it.”

Pain-filled blue eyes watched her warily. She would not fail this creature.

Working swiftly yet gently, she cleaned each of the punctures.

Not many people would have come out here, X said.

“I couldn’t leave him.”

I like that about you.

“Thank you.”

You’re exactly what Solo has always needed.

A small thrill lit her up inside. “What was he like as a child? Other than what you showed me, I mean.”

A fond chuckle. He was the sweetest little boy ever created, following his mother around, always making her gifts.

Only yesterday, he’d offered to buy Vika new jewelry. She’d convinced herself the offer stemmed from irritation over the heaviness of her bag, and maybe it had, but what if it had also stemmed from a desire to please her?

Hands trembling, she smoothed numbing cream over the feline’s injuries and wrapped his leg with a thick white bandage, applying pressure to stop any more bleeding. A final scratch behind the creature’s ear and she stood to walk back into the cabin. Once again X ordered her steps, making her zig and zag and leap.

Inside the cabin, warm air instantly enveloped her. She shucked her coat and carried the basket of supplies to the bedroom, desperate to see Solo again. He had begun to stir. He’d kicked the covers from the bed, leaving his body bare. He was on his stomach, his back to her. His luscious, luscious back. He was all bronzed skin and chiseled muscle, his bottom tight, his legs . . . injured, just like the tiger’s.

Concerned, Vika rushed to his side.

All right, then. This is where I say good-bye, X said, and vanished.

The wolves had bitten Solo, she recalled, and the teeth marks were still there, still leaking. She set the basket down and withdrew the only remaining clean rag.

The moment the fabric brushed against his skin, he jerked around, arm swiping out, his claws elongating—but he caught sight of her and stopped the momentum just in time.

The claws retracted, and Solo moaned, as though in pain. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“My fault,” she said, and there wasn’t a single beat of fear inside her. That’s how much she trusted him. “My babies used to react the same way when anyone roused them from sleep. I knew better.” Smiling softly, she gave his warm chest a little push. “Lie back. You promised I would get to tend you when we reached the cabin. Well, happy news. We’ve reached the cabin.”

As strong as he was, the action forced him to do nothing. Still, he fell backward, the pillows plumping around him. He watched her as she doctored him, silent. When she finished, she traced her fingertip along one of his toenails.

“So pretty,” she said. “Like diamonds.”

“I want you again, Vika.”

He was totally and completely naked. “I realize that, Solo,” she said with a grin.

Their gazes met, and she suspected the same fire that crackled in his also crackled in her own.

“Do you want me?” he asked.

“More than anything.”

“Then have me.”

She did. Oh, she did.

• • •

Vika propped herself up on one elbow and peered down at Solo. He met her gaze through heavy-lidded eyes. His hair was in complete disarray, the dark strands sticking out in spikes. The strong bones of his face were overlaid with skin flushed from the intense pleasure they had shared. His lips were soft and red from her kisses, a little swollen.

He was breathtaking.

“I think I liked that time better than the first,” she announced.

“You’ll like the third time even better,” he promised.

She laughed with delight. “So, when we get to your farm, are you going to let me feed the animals? Can that be one of my chores?”

A pause. A hesitant “You’ve decided to stay with me?”

“For now,” she said, thinking, forever. But she wouldn’t tell him that part. Not yet. Not until she was certain he wanted her in his life that long.

“That’s good.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “But I have to tell you something, Vika. You might change your mind.”

Her stomach bottomed out. In a single blink of time, he had gone from playful and aroused to serious and grim. “What is it?”

He looked away from her. “I don’t want to lie to you, want to give you full disclosure even though I told myself I’d keep this a secret, and I know I should have told you before you ran off with me. But I’m a smart man—really smart—and now it’s too late for you to ditch me, so this was the wisest path and I’m not sorry.”

O-kay, she’d never seen him this uncomfortable. And she’d seen him stripped and fondled by strangers! “Just tell me.”

His fingers tangled in his hair. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Well, you’re just gonna have to use your man parts and do it!”

He stilled, his lips twitching. “My man parts? Do you mean my balls?”

Heat blasted from her cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Say it,” he said with a grin. “Say the word. I want to hear it on those candy-apple lips.”

“No! Now stop stalling and—your eyes,” she said with a frown. There was a slight ringing in her ears, annoying and yet wonderful. “Your eyes used to be a light blue, but now they’re a dark purple, like my father’s used to be. Like mine are.” And she could see far more clearly than she’d ever seen before, she realized as she looked around the room.

Before, she’d thought everything was clear. Now she realized how wrong she’d been. This was clear. Dust motes swirled in the air, floating . . . floating . . . and the overhead light provided an undeniable radiance that caused her to tear.

Confused, she eased all the way up. “What’s going on?”

“Your eyes are now a light blue,” he said. “I noticed it a few minutes ago, but I figured it was a trick of the light.”

“My eyes aren’t dark purple?”

“No. They’re blue, like mine used to be.”

So . . . they had changed, both of them. “I don’t understand this.”

“Could we have . . . switched?”

Maybe. “But I’ve never heard of anything like that happening. Not with humans, or even humans dating otherworlders.” The ringing stopped abruptly, and in its place, she heard her own voice. “I can hear,” she said with a gasp. “I can hear!” And oh, her voice was gorgeous! She knew it was wrong to brag, but she couldn’t help herself. Her voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard!

“What?” he said, rubbing at his ears. “Say that again.”

Scratch that. His voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Rough and raspy, dark and masculine, full of power and undeniable vigor, causing her to shiver. “It’s a miracle! My ears are working. Do you have any idea how long I’ve—”

“I can’t hear you,” he interrupted. “I can’t hear anything.”

“What?” she screeched. She could hear, but he couldn’t? No. No, no, no. That would mean they’d done more than switch eyes. They’d switched ears. His perfection for all of her flaws.

“The vow.” He gave her a dazed look. “I vowed to give you all that I was.”

So had she. The moisture dried in her mouth. “Oh, Solo, I’m so sorry.” She flattened her palms on his chest, felt the hard thump of his heartbeat. “I never would have agreed to such a switch—”

“Hush,” he said. “In my line of work I had to learn to read lips, too, so we won’t have any problem communicating.”

Yes, but he’d helped her and she’d hurt him. “I’ll never be able to forgive myself. After everything you’ve done for me, I go and do something like this to you, adding to your misery. It’s not fair to you. It’s criminal, actually. I should be punished!”

“You stop that right now. This hearing thing? It doesn’t matter.” He tugged her down so that she sprawled across his chest. “Now listen to what I have to say.” He traced his fingertips along the ridges of her spine. “I will tell you about my past, and you will vow to stay with me anyway.”

An order. One she would heed. There was nothing he could say to change her mind about him.

“I was a contract killer for the government.” He paused, as if expecting her to leap up and run.

She didn’t—she was too stunned.

He continued. “I killed humans, otherworlders, males, females, it didn’t matter. If I was told to kill someone, I killed that someone, no questions asked. I’ve killed a lot of people, Vika.”

She wouldn’t lie. The words were hard to hear, and she flinched. Her man, a killer. But he wasn’t anything like her father, she reminded herself, and she would never think of him that way. Jecis had enjoyed the pain he inflicted. Solo never had, something she would stake her life on.

“I cried after my first kill, and I’m not embarrassed to admit it. I stared at the body for a long, long time, shaking, sick to my stomach. But I still took the next job, and the next, and eventually what I was doing no longer bothered me. I was cold inside, and glad of it.”

But not now. There was too much regret in his tone.

“Most of what I did was for a good cause, and I know men like me are needed to keep our world safe. But the things I had to do to complete certain jobs . . . I think I’ve always been more like you, because, no matter my reasons, what I was doing was also killing the man I was meant to be. I wish I could undo my past. I wish I could go back and live a different life, but I can’t. I have to live with what I’ve done. And now, I’m asking you to live with it, too.”

She heard the regret, now mixed with insecurity, doubt, guilt, and sorrow. A desire to clean the slate and start fresh. A desire she knew very well. She was surprised she could judge the emotions so precisely, and doubted she could have done so with anyone else, but this was Solo, her Solo, and she knew him in a way she’d never known anyone else.

Vika sat up, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. He waited, tense.

“Everyone regrets things in their past,” she said, and he tensed a little more. “Even me.”

As he watched her lips, he relaxed, but only slightly. “You have done nothing wrong.”

Oh, no. He wasn’t going to absolve her. “Rather than finding a way to free the otherworlders right from the start, I enabled my father to use them. And don’t you dare say I did what I could. I could have done more. My actions were selfish. I wanted out of there permanently and I let them rot while I saved my money.”

“You searched for the key.”

“I could have searched harder. I could have asked Jecis about it.”

“And placed yourself at greater risk.”

“All I’m saying is, we both could have acted differently.”

“Vika—”

“I still want to stay at your farm,” she interjected. “You’re not the man you used to be, and you aren’t a monster.” And she didn’t like that she’d ever implied he could be. No one could see into the heart of a man and know what he felt or why he did what he did. You had to wait and watch for the fruit. An orange tree would always bear oranges. A lemon tree would always bear lemons. “I’m not the girl I used to be, either, and I’m so very—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said sternly. “With your past, the fact that you helped me at all is amazing enough.”

“Sorry,” she finished anyway.

His frown was chiding.

“We have to forgive ourselves,” she said with a nod. “We can’t live with self-hatred. It’s a terrible emotion, and it will open the door for us to hate others. Hating others will make us like Jecis, and I don’t want to be like Jecis.”

“We can only go on from here,” Solo agreed. “Doing better.”

“We start fresh.” From this moment on, she was no longer the coward who slunk around in the shadows, the timid mouse that cowered in corners, or the victim of constant cruelty. She was filled with hope. She was empowered.

She was with the most magnificent of men.

“As long as you never forget what we’ve done here at this cabin,” Solo said, his voice tender.

Shivering, she replied, “Believe me, I’ll be dreaming about this cabin every time I close my eyes.”

“I have a feeling I will as well.” He reached up, brushed a fingertip over her cheeks. “We’ve talked about the past. Now let’s talk about the future. After I free the otherworlders from the circus, I have to find my friends, John and Blue. They were injured, like me, and from what little I know about the man responsible, terrible things were done to them.”

“I understand.” And she wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

A fierce light in eyes she was used to seeing stare back at her from a mirror—a light she’d never before seen in them. “No matter what happens, I’ll take care of you.”

“And I’ll take care of you,” she promised. “And when we succeed—and we will, because we’re unstoppable—we’re going on a date. Many dates. You’re going to wine and dine me, and I’m going to dress up and seduce you. We’ll dance and eat and talk and laugh, and have the best time.”

“I’ll agree to those terms on one condition,” he said, and reached down to cup her bottom.

A thrum of need, a breathy moan. “What?”

He licked and sucked at her collarbone. “Solo no good with words. He have to show.”

Silly caveman. “Again? Oh, dear. However will I survive?”

He kissed her, relearning her, tasting her, but the kiss soon spun out of control. Just as before, Vika was confounded by the absolute and utter delight she found in the act of making love with him. Solo was gentle, and he was rough, he was careful and he was undisciplined, he was . . . everything to her, and more than she could have ever dreamed.

There was no part of her he left unpraised. Nothing was taboo. He delighted in all that she was, and erupted into a frenzy of growls and commands when she took over, showing him just how much she loved him.

Love?

She did, she realized. She loved him with all of her heart. The emotion burst through her, warming her, delighting her, thrilling her—frightening her, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that, and she wasn’t going to think about wanting more from him than he might want from her. His feelings wouldn’t change her own. And she wasn’t a mouse, she reminded herself. She was brave. She was strong. She would go after what she wanted with everything she had.