Bound by Dreams Page 16

  “You should have told me you were home. You should have told me that you were hurt.” She took an angry breath and drove one trembling fist against his chest. “I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to trust you. Dear heaven, what is happening to me?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  NOT NOW, CALAN THOUGHT.

  Not with her so close, shredding his logic. So close that she made him forget what he should do.

  He had to leave—or make her leave.

  “Tell me why. I need to know why, Calan.” Her fist ground against his chest. As she leaned closer, her hair fell in a dark tangle across his shoulder and he felt the sweat of her skin mix with his.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t expect to meet you, to want you beyond reason or control. Maybe this is what they mean by fate,” he added harshly.

  “I don’t believe in fate,” Kiera snapped.

  “Neither do I.”

  “There’s no reason I should trust you. No damned reason at all,” she whispered. “But I do…” She took a raw breath. Then slowly her hands opened, sliding into his hair.

  Calan felt her tremble. He tasted the scent of her raw, unwilling need. It tore through his senses, mixed with his own urgent drive to mate.

  She had trapped him. Claimed him. His whole being screamed for him to claim her in turn.

  Before the violence of that need robbed him of reason, Calan shoved her away. He wouldn’t take her blindly, not with the lust of an animal.

  But she gripped his shoulders, holding him where he was. “What is it that you aren’t telling me?”

  “You need to leave.” Calan didn’t try to hide his anger or the edge of violence that simmered. “Now.” He took a harsh breath. “Ask your questions later.” He pointed to his clean, folded clothes. “I need to dress.”

  “Not until we get to the truth.” Kiera studied his muddy feet and bruised legs. “What were you doing, running a marathon?” Frowning, she moved past him, picking up his alcohol pads from the bathroom counter. “I’ll start on that cut at the back of your right knee while you tell me what’s really going on.”

  Calan closed his eyes, caught in a strange place between fury and black humor. “What part of leave don’t you understand?”

  She didn’t respond.

  Alcohol bit at the jagged wound behind Calan’s knee. The sharp pain was nothing compared to her touch, razoring across his raw nerves.

  You could feel too much to bear, he understood then. You could be too close and yet strain to be infinitely closer.

  “Forget the alcohol. I’ll do it myself.” He turned, keeping his back to her in some partial concession to his nakedness. “Give me the damned box.”

  She pushed his hand away with a sigh. The sound made him think of how she would sigh when he shoved off her shirt and pushed deep inside her.

  “Just tell me the truth.” Her fingers dabbed at the dried blood near his hip. “Does that hurt?”

  “Damn it, Kiera—” She hurt him, simply by being too close. Too damned gentle.

  “I’m done. Now I’ll have a look at your other leg. Turn around, Calan.”

  “Hell.”

  “Turn. Around.” She frowned up at him. “Why all the drama about me touching you? I’ve seen naked men before. Last year during a riding trip through Mongolia—”

  He closed his eyes.

  Breathed a rough curse.

  She’d seen naked men. Of course she had. But she didn’t have a clue what she was dealing with now because he wasn’t like other men, and she shredded his control as no other woman ever had. “I don’t give a damn about how many naked men you’ve seen or where you’ve seen them,” he growled.

  “Well.” She glared up at him. “There’s no need to be nasty.”

  “Call it self-defense. Politeness doesn’t seem to register with you.”

  Her eyes rose. She stared at his thighs—and then higher. “Well,” she murmured again. Very softly this time. Color swirled over those gloriously soft cheeks. “I think I’m impressed.”

  The words had an instant effect, his erection surging in a full and hot response.

  The darkness always waiting inside him paced and shuddered. Something crucial had begun, and it tasted like danger in his mouth. “You don’t know what you’re starting here, Kiera.”

  For a moment there was something wistful and uncertain in her face. “Maybe not. But when you touched me at the abbey…you brought something alive. I was all nerve, all sensation, but it wasn’t just from the desire I felt. It was—” She made a shaky sound. “That’s just it, I don’t know what it was. I’ve never felt like that before,” she whispered.

  Her breathless words left Calan speechless. But they changed nothing. “You can’t stay with me tonight.”

  Her chin rose. “Why?”

  “Because…I don’t want to hurt you, Kiera.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Two easy words. But she didn’t know the things he was capable of. Right now even he didn’t know what he was capable of.

  In growing irritation, Calan wrapped a towel around his waist and tossed her the sterile gauze. “I’m trying very hard not to hurt you, believe it or not. Take this and I’ll meet you in your room.”

  She caught the box and held it clasped against her chest. Her hand moved, closing around his waist as he tried to walk around her. “Where did you get all those old scars? There must be half a dozen of them.”

  “Accidents.” He shrugged. “The usual.”

  “I don’t think so. Are they from the explosives work you do?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Your great-aunt left boxes for you with a note. I didn’t want to spy, but I saw them on the kitchen counter while I was making tea.” Her eyes darkened. “There was a shipping list attached for safety gear. A tactical suit and face shields. Is that how you were hurt, Calan?”

  There was respect in her eyes, and that was the most dangerous thing of all. “No. I’m just a geek. My company makes some of the ordnance location equipment, that’s all.” Leaning down, he removed her hand, then scooped up his clothes. “End of story.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Too bad.” He pulled her to her feet and angled a hand at her back, pushing her toward the door. “Goodbye.”

  “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the one who was pitching the values of honesty and open communication? Am I overlooking something here?”

  Calan made his voice hard. “I changed my mind.”

  She turned, leaning into him. “I don’t believe you. I think something else is happening,” she said slowly.

  At any other time he would have been fascinated. But not with her leg wedged against his thigh and her full breasts pressing against his naked chest.

  He had never wanted a woman half so much.

  That thought was like cold water dashed in his face. How much longer until he did something they’d both regret? How easy it would be to hurt her when his darkest instincts took control. Every second she stayed brought that danger closer.

  He gripped her shoulder. “Kiera, you know nothing about me. Not about the things that matter.”

  “You said I could trust you. Are you taking that back?”

  “Yes.”

  He expected her to flinch. To mutter angrily. Even to look offended.

  Instead she lifted her hand to his cheek. “Liar.” Emotions played through her face. “You’re just…worried.”

  The way she looked at him dug deep inside him. He didn’t want her respect or her concern. He didn’t want to hope or believe that he could be different with her, because that hope was empty. Calan knew enough of his past to understand that he was incomplete, malformed, damned. His Change had come too soon, marking him forever a misfit among a lineage of people already cursed as outsiders. As a boy he had been cast out without training and now his instincts ran close to the surface, always ready to push him past the edge to uncontrolled violence.

  He woul
d never be complete, never be fully controlled. He had nearly been harmed twice, driven by the Other. Anyone close to him would always be in danger.

  He thought he’d accepted that fact, but it simply hadn’t mattered so much before. Not until he’d met Kiera.

  “Why are you worried, Calan?”

  He caught her hand and lifted it away from his cheek.

  She leaned closer, putting her palms on either side of him, bracketed against the wall. “I’m not afraid. I’ve traveled on every continent. I walked up to my waist in mud to find my way to tiny villages on no map. I wasn’t afraid then, and I’m not afraid now.”

  “But you should be,” Calan growled. “You haven’t traveled where I’ve been. You wouldn’t want to, believe me.”

  “Tonight I’m not going to worry. I’m going to be impractical, just for a few hours.”

  “You shouldn’t, damn it.”

  She looked down at his muddy feet. “You need to understand this. I’ve always been the cool, practical one. I’m the keeper of the Filofax, guardian of the BlackBerry.”

  Calan heard the self-mockery. “Don’t. There’s nothing wrong with being organized or careful.”

  “Isn’t there? I’ve missed too much because of it. So I’m doing this for me. I want to take a chance tonight. I need to take a chance, Calan.”

  He breathed a quiet curse. Part of him was already giving in. Part of him could already feel Kiera’s hands locked, her mouth on his thigh while a raw climax tore apart their reason. Behind the stark images, the darkness inside him snapped and growled. “Tonight, I’m a bad person to take chances with, Kiera. Very bad,” he said harshly.

  “I don’t believe that.” She looked down and touched his thigh. “You’re bleeding again.”

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is to me.” Suddenly her eyes narrowed. “Has something happened at Draycott Abbey? Was anyone…hurt there?”

  “I can’t talk about it. I can’t tell you what I’m doing or who I’m doing it for. There’s a whole continent full of things I can’t tell you about. Now will that make you go?” he said savagely.

  She drummed her fingers on the counter and shook her head. “Why can’t this just be about sex? What’s wrong with having an hour of mind-destroying, stupendous sex and leaving it at that?”

  If he hadn’t been in the grip of a battle with vicious, clawing desire, Calan probably would have laughed. As it was, it took all his strength to keep from wrapping his fingers around the cotton shirt she wore and tearing it to shreds.

  He felt his muscles tense. He felt hair prick at his chest as the Change shimmered under his skin, growing ever closer.

  “Women are allowed to do the asking these days. Some men even like it.”

  “I’m not in the mood to debate gender behavior or the new sexual politics, Kiera.”

  “Tough. I’m staying until you say something that makes sense. Once in Florence, a famous Italian chef told me—”

  “No.” Calan cut her off, his hand gripping her shoulder. “Don’t tell me about the men. Not about the ones you’ve traveled with or been friends with. Especially not the ones you made love to.”

  He closed his eyes, losing himself to the inevitable. Falling under the spell of her honesty.

  No way he could fight it any longer.

  “I don’t want to know about any of them, Kiera. None of them matter.” His hands tightened. “I’m the only one who matters now.” He heard himself as from a distance, unable to stop the harsh words, unable to control the violent need behind them. “Do you accept that?” he growled.

  Any other woman would have stalked out.

  Kiera simply watched him, sifting through the words and then nodding as if they pleased her.

  The dark and wild part of Calan wanted to hammer deep and drive the soft smile from her face. Not for her pleasure.

  For his alone.

  He closed his eyes, tired of fighting the force of that drive. He gave up talking and scooped her up, setting her down outside the bathroom. Then he closed the door in her face. “I’m going to dress. Then…we’ll talk.” Maybe time would give him a measure of control.

  He couldn’t quite face himself in the mirror, afraid to see something that wasn’t human in his eyes or the set of his mouth. But the Other rippled beneath his skin, furious to be set free.

  “I don’t get it.” Her voice was muffled. “You walk through minefields. You rescue people from terrible danger. Why, Calan? And no, I didn’t buy that malarkey about your company using that gear.”

  “Because someone has to do it. It may as well be me.” He tugged on a pair of pants and splashed water on his face. Even with a closed door between them, her fragrance clouded his senses.

  He opened his hand on the marble counter, watching the muscles flex as he fought back the Change. He felt the little hairs rise, felt his muscles twist, power filling his lungs.

  Take her, fool. Make her submit to anything you want.

  He closed his eyes, drove down fiery images of their naked, sweating bodies. His fingers stretched out, white against the cool marble as he slowly counted to twenty, feeling his muscles finally relax.

  In a few more minutes he would go out and give her all the reasons why sex was off their new agenda. If talking didn’t work, there were ways to frighten her away. Heaven knew, it would be easy enough for him.

  For the thing he could become.

  He stood up slowly, ignoring a wave of sadness. Something rustled outside the door.

  “Kiera?”

  Silence.

  “Are you still there?”

  No answer.

  When Calan swung open the door, the room was empty. The hall was empty, too. He sprinted toward the sound of a door opening in her bedroom.

  Empty.

  Curtains billowed out at the patio. As he ran toward the patio door, mist struck his face. He couldn’t let her leave. The danger to the Draycott family touched her, too, though she didn’t know that. He’d hoped to keep her here by persuasion, not force.

  He jumped to the grass and caught her scent, drifting on the wet air.

  She was a fool if she thought—

  Branches rustled and she moved out from behind a wall of climbing roses. “I’m not running away. I wanted you to follow me, and you did.” Her damp hair framed her face and her cheeks were high with color. “I need this, Calan. I need you.”

  He heard the tremor in her voice.

  Too late, he thought. He couldn’t turn away when her honesty was so clearly given. “You’ll regret it,” he whispered. “We both will.”

  Then he shoved her against the house and ground his mouth down over hers. There was no time for subtlety and no hope of care.

  He took for his own pleasure, took out of a hunger that threatened to explode into violence at any moment. The animal inside him snapped, fighting to be let free.

  And Calan couldn’t make himself care, though this was what he’d always feared. The rage and hunger were here, devouring him, and he was beyond stopping or even wanting to stop now.

  He saw beads of water gather in the hollow of her throat and glisten in her hair. He smelled the heat of her pulse against the fine rain. Closing his eyes, he let the smell of her sex fill his senses.

  Even then he tried to make his hands open. He tried to shove her away. But possession was a howl that blotted out everything else.

  This was what he was, what he had come from. She would finally understand her grave mistake.

  “You should have run. You should have locked your door,” he said roughly. “I told you.”

  “I’m not running.”

  His hands slid over damp cotton, molding her full breasts. He lifted each one against his palms, watching her nipples tighten. His pulse hammered and he drove his thigh between hers, lifted her up until she rode against him.

  She trembled, whispering his name.

  His mouth ground over hers again, and this time Calan tasted a hint of blood. Whether her
s or his, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter because there would be more before this was done.

  God help them.

  Mist swirled around them as his fingers found her. He opened her and cursed to feel that she was already wet. Ready to be taken.

  So many ways he could take her. Ways she wouldn’t imagine.

  He lifted her, pulling her legs higher so that her soft heat cupped his erection. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Trusting him. Wanting whatever he would give.

  Dimly he felt her fingers slide into his hair.

  And then she bit him. Bit him hard enough to draw blood. She closed her eyes and licked the welt on his shoulder with her tongue.

  “Do it here, Calan. Hard.” She shuddered. “Fast. I want to feel you now.”

  Torment came in the same breath as hunger. He felt her tongue brush him again, felt her taut nipples rake his chest.

  Blindly, he sank his fingers inside her, lifting her at the same time. The smell of her made him wild. Too late…

  The Other howled and Calan felt the claws emerge. His heart hammered as she touched him and then nipped him again, this time on his jaw.

  The claws stopped. His senses cleared briefly.

  She bit him again. This time the hair slid away at his chest. Her touch, he thought. Somehow it affected his Change.

  Kiera reached between them, sliding her hands under his waistband and circling him. Fury possessed him and he pinned her against the wall, feeling his erection jerk in her hands.

  The Other roared to be freed, demanded to shove her down into the mud and savage her over and over for his pleasure. Calan closed his eyes, fought the need that screamed in his blood. Her teeth bit at his ear, bringing a brief awareness.

  His thoughts cleared.

  He stared at her, holding her locked against him. “Do that again. Use your teeth, Kiera.”

  She was breathing hard, her eyes glazed with desire. “I don’t—”

  “I need you to.”

  She licked her lower lip and nuzzled his upper arm, watching him. “Here?”

  Calan managed a grunt.

  Her eyes shimmered. “Are you sure?”

  “Do it.”

  She nuzzled him, ran her teeth slowly over his shoulder. Then she caught the skin at the top of his biceps between her teeth. When he stiffened, she tongued the small welt, making slow circles. “Like that?”