He sobered, and given she didn’t really know what he was talking about or what to say, she just held the knife as still as she could.
“I’m not trying to cut you out of your team, Natasha,” he said, and she hated how erotic her name sounded coming from his lips. Dark and sexy and so gloriously smooth. “I’m trying to shield you. I remember your tears. Your self-loathing. It haunts me in the same way your past haunts you, whatever happened. I understand the darkness you feel. I understand the things you’ve been made to do—and the way they stick with you. The way you hate yourself for your willingness to do them over again. I know because I’ve lived it. I continue to live it. I’ve made peace with my morally gray life. I thrive in it. But you don’t, and it’s not in me to ignore your pain. Not when I can help you. But I…now realize…that you need to make that choice for yourself. I can shield or even hide you. Or I can stand by you if you want to hold people at knifepoint or ambush them on their doorsteps. Whatever you need, I can give it. Let me.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, and the knife shook so badly that she pulled it away.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, that self-loathing he spoke of pooling within her. “Why would you offer that to me? Why me?”
He shook his head, his eyes seeming to drink her in. “My reasons are my own.”
She blinked, dislodging another tear. “I don’t deserve—”
He ripped his hands forward and down, an incredible show of strength. The cord caught, too strong for him to break, but the pulleys couldn’t handle the pressure. They pulled from the wood,
clanked through the rafters, and fell to the ground, freeing his hands. He unstrung the loosened rope from his neck and discarded it before touching a thumb to her lips and letting the other arm fall around her.
“No more of that,” he told her, lifting his head a little, his breath smelling like chocolate. “No more talking about not deserving something good in your life. I don’t know what happened in the past, Natasha, but the woman I see now is strong and courageous and caring. You constantly look after Sebastian, you build up Brochan, you guard Jessie’s back—”
She shook her head, guilt adding to the turbulent emotions currently drowning her. “You know better than to say I guard her back.”
“Throwing her into the fire to help harden her or forcing a situation that will help her achieve her goals is guarding her back. You can be good and wicked at the same time, little deathwatch angel.
Hell, Jessie is. Her beast wouldn’t have it any other way. The same is true of Austin, without question.” He grinned, his hold on her tight, his other hand now softly tracing her jaw line. “You can try to kill me one minute and then ride me to completion the next. It adds to the flavor.”
She fell into those beautifully glowing eyes and saw no lie. Nothing held back.
“No one is riding anyone anywhere,” she whispered, feeling a delicious hum vibrate up from where they touched. Him still lying on the nails with her in his arms. Feeling his heat soak into her.
“We’re not compatible.”
“That’s just the fear talking. I can wait.”
“You’ll wait forever.”
His words rode a soft breath, his lips curving. “No, I won’t.”
She shook her head as she fell into that hum, mixing it with her own, feeling their energy swirl and build, the sensation so unbelievably delicious. She felt suspended, like a single moment had multiplied into many. The air between them shivered with heat. With possibility.
“You could’ve gotten loose the whole time,” she murmured, her head drooping just a bit, her body melting against his. “You allowed me to threaten you with a knife.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Did you know I was hiding up there, waiting for you?”
“Of course,” he whispered, his aura so tantalizing now that she allowed herself to soak it in. His energy sizzled into her palms and along her flesh, the connection more intense than she’d ever shared with anyone else. Wilder. It felt like it was burning her up and breathing life into her at the same time.
“I can see your essence through a wall,” he said, his voice whiskey smooth. “You don’t think I’d notice you in the rafters? Especially after I pissed you off and then you went missing. I returned home thinking you’d be waiting for me. I had no idea your attack would be so elaborate, though. I’m impressed. If I’d been completely unsuspecting and couldn’t feel your intoxicating presence, you very well might’ve truly captured me. The knife near the eye was an excellent touch.”
Her head drooped just a bit more as she looked at his pillow-soft lips. Felt his hard body humming beneath hers.
His palms ran up her sides, his hands splayed.
“I didn’t see the nails,” he said, the sound hardly more than his breath. “If I had, I might’ve tried to land anywhere but on them. I must say, though, the pain mixed with the pleasure of your touch is…
stirring. I wouldn’t mind exploring these sensations a little more.”
“I don’t understand you,” she finally said, thinking about kissing those lush lips. Bending toward them, she felt a jolt of nervousness climb up through her middle and expand within her stomach. Her core throbbed, and his hardness pushed up against her.
Her senses warned of danger, though, of the monster caressing her skin. This man was mysterious.
Cunning. He’d buttoned up that situation in the garage with the enemy mage in such a simple yet thorough way that spoke of expertise. Of many dark deeds. Even Austin was wary of him. Something about this gargoyle didn’t scream genuine.
He was a guy who would offer a favor but treat it as a debt. Who would keep his secrets but gather those of others. He already had dirt on her. She couldn’t allow him to collect any more. Before long, he’d trap her with damning knowledge and blackmail her to serve his purposes—or service him in his bedroom.
Molten heat coursed through her at the last thought. She couldn’t help a soft moan escaping her lips as she considered the possibilities.
What was happening to her? Why did that thought seem like it was pulling her apart little by little until all she wanted was to give in to his dominating presence?
She didn’t trust him, no, but oh God, she couldn’t deny wanting him. Now more than ever. The problem was, she didn’t just want to revel in his incredible body or stare at his handsome face. She didn’t just go weak in the knees at the knowledge that no one, not any creature, could get through to her if he was standing in the way.
She craved his danger. His deviousness. The way he looked at her, like he’d drag her down into the abyss and keep her there. Her jailor. Her tormenter.
Her savior.