Текст книги "Transcending Darkness"

Автор книги: Airicka Phoenix

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Juliette grinned into the warm flesh of his shoulder. “I think this is my favorite position.”

His shoulders jerked in a silent chuckle. “Don’t say that until we’ve tried them all.”

A warm thrill raced through her at the thought of trying all manner of positions with him.

“Definitely top five then,” she amended, drawing back to peer into his face. “Was it good for you?”

One dark eyebrow lifted in dry amusement. “Are you asking if it was top five for me?”

“Do you have a top five?”

“In general or with us?”

She had to think about that a moment. It was an interesting question and she had to really debate whether or not she wanted to know his favorite position with other women.

“In general,” she decided, curious to know what he liked.

His answer was the feather light rake of his fingers down her back from shoulder to ass where they curled, lifted her hips and pulled her more firmly down over the hard length of him still buried inside her.

“I would rather show you.”

Juliette’s eyes widened. “Is that … are you…?”

“Aye, it is.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Doesn’t seem to want to go down when you’re around.”

A molten, hot shiver sliced through her. It poured over the embers left behind from only moments ago, igniting the flames to new heights. Her walls rippled around him, bathing him in a fresh wave of arousal. Her breathing quickened.

“I … I guess we should do something about that,” she decided.

Something dark flickered across his features that had her insides quivering.

“Oh, I insist.”

It was well after two in the morning when Juliette slipped out from beneath Killian’s slumbering embrace and crept across the room. Her limbs were still jittering from the earth shattering climax she’d experienced only minutes earlier, but she moved quickly gathering her things and getting dressed. Killian had passed out the moment he’d rolled off her. He’d hooked an arm around her middle just long enough to tuck her into the curve of his body, but it had taken no time at all before his slow, even breaths were burning into the back of her neck. She’d waited just long enough to be sure he wouldn’t wake up before untangling herself and sneaking out of the room.

It was in the contract, she told the guilt ridden voice when it whined about just leaving without a note. It had stated very clearly she wasn’t to spend the night. But it was more than that. She had to wake up early for her new position and she still needed to toss her new clothes into the washer. Plus … God help her, but spending the night with him scared the shit out of her. It was an intimacy she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away from in twelve months. It was just easier for all if she followed the rules.

At the bottom of the stairs, standing on either side of the front doors, Tyson and John straightened to attention. They squared their shoulders and watched her solemnly as she approached.

“Ma’am,” Tyson said, inclining his head.

Painfully aware of how bedraggled and rumpled she looked, Juliette fidgeted anxiously. “Shouldn’t you two be sleeping?”

“No ma’am,” John said curtly.

“We have been assigned to stay with you,” Tyson added, taking the bags from her.

Juliette’s eyes widened. “Stay with me? Like … everywhere?”

“Yes ma’am,” they said on unison.

She started to protest, but stopped herself. It was what she’d agreed to, after all. It was in the contract, Killian doing all that was in his power to protect her.

“Fine,” she muttered, trudging past them towards the door John quickly yanked open.

They took the same SUV as earlier. It hadn’t been put away, she noticed. But sat gleaming under the night sky and the lights that never seemed to turn off around the property. Next to it, the fountain of Killian’s mom sat bubbling quietly, filling the stillness with a sort of calm. Juliette paused to stare up into the other woman’s ivory face and thought of what Killian had told her about how his mother had died. It must have killed Killian and his father to see the statue every day, standing like a reminder of how they’d lost someone so important. But maybe it also helped ease the pain. There was a picture of her own mother, before the cancer had taken her health and youth and ultimately her life, on the mantel in the living room that Juliette used to stare at all the time after her mom had passed. Maybe it was the same thing.

“Ma’am?” John was holding the car door open for her.

With a last glance at the fountain, Juliette ducked into the backseat of the SUV and let herself be propelled home.

“Are you stupid?” Blue eyes blazing with contempt, Celina snatched the pen from Juliette’s hand. “The year goes first. Then the month. Then the day.”

It was a task not to snatch the pen back and jab it right in the other woman’s eye. It would have certainly made Juliette feel better after being bullied, threatened, belittled, and yelled at for most of the morning and afternoon.

From the moment Juliette had walked into the hotel lobby, Celina had been on her case over just about everything from Juliette’s selection of clothing to the fact that Juliette had even gotten the job, which was Celina’s favorite topic to shout about when no one was around to hear it.

“Does it really matter which goes first?” Juliette demanded. “The form doesn’t even specify.”

“It does matter!” Celina shot back, looking practically unhinged at the very idea. “I have worked here for five years and that is how I’ve always done it and that is how it should be done.” Sucking in a breath that heaved her ample bosoms dangerously close to the neckline of her low cut blouse, Celina tried again. “Year, month, day. In that order.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Juliette turned back to the practice form Celina had her filling out.

It was simple enough. Most of it was done on the computer anyway and all she had to do was put in the guest’s information and hand them over a key. But Celina made it sound like she was singlehandedly responsible for the saving the world.

“Tell me again how you got my job,” Celina hounded, not for the first time. “I’m the one in charge of new hosts and I didn’t hire you.”

“Harold did,” Juliette said yet again without glancing up from the form. “He called me in yesterday and told me it was mine.”

“See, I don’t believe you.” Celina folded her arms. “The whole thing smells fishy. Harold would tell me if there would be a change like this and he would not put me on nights!”

Juliette shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“Oh, I will.”

Juliette didn’t doubt it. But what scared her was Celina twisting Harold’s arm into firing Juliette. Sleeping with the manager came with perks like that. All Celina would have to do was bat those pretty blue eyes and suck Harold’s cock and no doubt get him to do whatever she wanted. But what did that mean for Juliette? Would he fire her? Would he make her go back to being a maid? Unlikely. Celina would probably get her kicked out of the hotel for good. The very idea had her insides writhing and her skin going clammy. But she kept a cool composure, refusing to let the other woman get to her.

“Guests,” Celina muttered.

Juliette raised her head and watched as an elderly couple made their way to the counter. Both were smiling kindly and immediately put Juliette at ease. She straightened and returned the smile while positioning herself in front of the computer.

“Hello, welcome to the Twin Peaks Hotel. Do you have a reservation?”

The man, tall and thin with a thick mustache and warm hazel eyes, reached into the inside pocket of his suede coat. His bushy eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t find what he was looking for. His hands went to his pockets. His frown deepened.

The wife, short and round with a lovely face and bright red lips, chuckled. “Henry, what are you looking for?”

Still patting down his person, Henry huffed. “I can’t find my wallet.”

Shaking her head, the wife dug into her purse and drew the worn leather out. “This wallet? The one you gave me so you wouldn’t forget it?”

Henry blushed and took the thing from her. “I knew that.” He flipped it open. “I was just seeing if you remembered.”

The woman rolled her eyes affectionately.

Endeared by the pair of them, Juliette chuckled.

A moment later, several pieces of ID and a reservation print out was set on the counter. Juliette followed the steps Celina had given her. She pulled up the online reservation form and found the man’s name and room number. All the while, Celina breathed down her throat, watching her every move like a hawk. But she must not have done anything wrong, because she managed to get through the whole process without getting yelled at.

Mr. and Mrs. Therrien were sent off to find their rooms and Juliette was left alone with the queen of bitching once more.

“Are you sleeping with Harold?”

The question was so out of the blue and so surprising, Juliette wasn’t fast enough to conceal her disgust.

“Oh, ew!” she blurted without thinking.

Realistically, there was nothing wrong with Harold. He was young and attractive in a car sales men sort of way. But Juliette had never found his dimpled smiles and twinkling green eyes overly enticing, not when she had someone like Killian to compare him to. Harold honestly never stood a chance.

“Who then?” Celina pressed on.

“That is hardly any of your business!” Juliette retorted sharply.

“It is my business when you stole my job!” Celina practically shrieked. “Who the hell are you anyway? What makes you qualified to run the front desk? Do you have any idea—?”

“Look,” Juliette cut her off before the woman had an aneurysm. “I don’t know how I got the job, okay? I’ve been applying for four years and I guess I finally got lucky.”

Celina actually snorted like the very idea was ridiculous. “You did not get lucky. I pick who works at the front and who doesn’t and I did not select you.”

Juliette had nothing to say to that so she kept her mouth shut. Not that it mattered. Celina was on one of her rolls again.

“Furthermore, I would most certainly not let you take my place!” Her pretty alabaster complexion went blotchy beneath her flawless makeup and her eyes shone. “I don’t work nights! I have a social life and I won’t sit here in an empty hotel lobby, waiting…” She sniffled and turned away. Juliette felt a pang of guilt and sympathy and started reaching for the other woman in comfort. “I’m too young and hot to be locked up where no one can see me!”

Guilt and sympathy died instantaneously. Juliette dropped her hand and shook her head.

At five, Celina packed her things, cast Juliette a scathing glower and stalked out of the hotel. Juliette was left alone for an hour before Evan arrived for the night shift. She took the time to unwind from the nightmare that had been her first day. Her head was thrumming and her back ached, but it was her feet that made her want to cry. They hurt like a mother and she was pretty certain she had blisters where the straps on her sandals were cutting into her ankle. But Celina wouldn’t let her sit down for longer than a minute before pointing out how lazy she was being.

Only nine more days to go, she told herself as a motivational pep talk. Celina’s training would eventually end and Juliette would finally be free of the woman. She just needed to bide her time and not commit murder before then.

That was easier said than done when tomorrow would be another day.

John and Tyson were waiting for her when Juliette finally left. The two had taken turns all day sitting in the lobby. Seeing them filled her with a whole new surge of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she told the pair. “You guys must hate being stuck with me.”

“No ma’am,” Tyson said almost immediately.

“It’s our job,” John added.

She didn’t believe either of them. Who wanted to spend their entire day watching the weather channel in a hotel lobby? The very idea bored her to tears.

“Look, if you guys want to take a break, get some coffee…”

“We’re fine,” John said. “Thank you.”

Juliette sighed. “I’m just going home. You don’t have to follow me there.”

“We go where you go.”

Awesome.

Not pressing the matter, she let herself be led to the SUV. Tyson drove while John sat in the back with her. The moment they started driving, Juliette undid the buckles on her shoes and kicked the torture devices off with great relish. She groaned as her feet straightened to their normal flatness. Her toes cracked. Sure enough, there was a blister on the big toe of her left foot and a cut from the strap on her right ankle. Both throbbed.

“Remind me to set those on fire,” she told John, who inclined his head.

“Yes ma’am.”

Juliette grimaced. “It’s Juliette. Ma’am makes me feel all … matrony.”

John bowed his head again. “Yes ma’am.”

With an exasperated sigh, she dropped the subject.

“Roger.” Tyson said unexpectedly from behind the wheel. He lowered the wrist he’d had up by his mouth. “Boss wants to see you,” he said, peering at Juliette through the rearview mirror.

“Me?” Juliette asked. “Why?”

“Don’t know, ma’am,” was all the answer she got as he turned the car around and headed back towards the estate.

Frank met her at the entrance. His enormous frame took up the entire doorway in a hulking, black shape silhouette against the light coming from the foyer. He regarded her with a perfectly blank expression Juliette was beginning to wonder if they taught at some fancy bodyguard school.

“Hello,” she said. “Frank, right?”

The giant inclined his head. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh good, she thought with a tight lipped smile. Another one.

“I’m Juliette,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Something shifted across the man’s soft, brown eyes. A smile maybe.

“Likewise, ma’am.” He stepped back and gestured her into the foyer. “Mr. McClary has asked me to take you to his room. He’s finishing up some business and will be with you shortly.”

She followed him up the stairs. John and Tyson didn’t follow. They stayed downstairs and she wondered if they would finally relax now that she was in a heavily guarded fortress.

Frank stopped just outside the bedroom. Juliette thanked him before ducking inside. The doors were shut behind her and she simply stood there with no idea what to do next. Did he want her to strip and wait for him on the bed? Was she supposed to get herself wet and ready? In the end, she padded over to the bed and dropped down on it, her exhaustion winning. She pulled the pillow under her head and watched the door for Killian’s arrival.

Chapter 13

It was odd that a life of crime would take up so much after hour negotiation, but as Killian watched the little clock on the right side of his monitor, it seemed like it would never end. The hour kept getting later and the five faces on his screen continued to shout and argue through their webcams about all the necessary precautions they needed to take now that the authorities had upped their force.

None of it made a lick of difference to him. But it was required so he listened with only a quarter of his attention span and waited for the moment he could leave to find Juliette. Frank had already told him she’d arrived and, ever since, his skin had been prickling to go to her. It was the oddest sensation, but one he was quickly becoming accustomed to where she was concerned.

“Why should we offer our planes for your garbage, Lozano?” Theresa Maynard, CEO of Hanmark Corporation by day, gun smuggler by night, curled her pretty red lips in disgust.

As shrewd and evil went, she was probably one of the worst. Cut throat and cold to the core. But maybe one had to be when they put guns in the hands of children. Like Killian, it was a family business. One that had been passed down into her manicured hands. She was the youngest of three, and Killian had met her older brothers, but Theresa was molded in their father’s image, ruthless and cunning. It was no surprise when the company had been put in her name.

Marcus Lozano wasn’t the head of any business or corporation. He was second in command to William Lozano, his father. But William had no patience for the petty back and forth that took place once a month, every month like clockwork. Honestly, if Killian had a second in command, he would do the same thing. But the truth was that he liked knowing where his enemies stood. He liked knowing their game plan, even if they all lied.

Most nights, watching the five squabble and toss around idle threats was mildly entertaining, but Killian couldn’t stand it any longer. The feeling coursing through him, the itchy sensation scuttling beneath his skin made him want to leap up and pace. Hell, it made him want to leave the room and let them sort it out on their own. It wasn’t like they really needed him there. He wasn’t even participating, just sitting there, waiting for someone to say something useful.

“Gentlemen, and ladies,” he added quickly, inclining his head to the only two women in the chat. “I unfortunately have another meeting that requires my attention. Please send me an email when a decision has been made. Goodnight.”

He shut off before anyone could think to protest or attempt to make him stay. The moment the screen went blank, he became profoundly aware of the humming inside his skull. But he ignored it as he got to his feet and made his way to the door. Frank was nowhere in sight, but Killian knew it only took a murmur of his name to summon the man from wherever he was lurking.

Strides quick, he made his way to his room in no time at all. But something made him turn the knob quietly, like a part of him had almost expected to find Juliette curled up on the bed, asleep.

She wore the black skirt with the red blouse. Her bare legs were curled almost to her chest. One hand was loosely curled next to her slightly parted mouth. But it was her hair he was most fascinated with. It was unbound, a chaotic mess of waves spilling across the pillow. In the dim light of the setting sun, the strands shone like spun gold.

Moving to her side, Killian perched on the corner of the mattress and studied the play of colors that only seemed to come out in different lighting. In the approaching hours of dusk, he could just make out hints of auburn and dark brown.

He lightly plucked up a coil that had been resting along the curve of her neck and wound the silky texture around his finger. All blonde with just a hint of brown.

Juliette sighed in her sleep. Her sooty lashes fluttered but remained splayed across the soft contours of her cheeks. She shifted half onto her back, tugging the strand of hair from his grasp when she turned her head away from him.

He let it go, his focus captured by the firm swell of one breast peeking out through the gap in her blouse. The voice in his head wondered if she was wearing that lacy bra she’d bought to torture him with. The one that had held her breasts to their full perfection and had converted his brain to soup upon sight. It was an image that had haunted him all day, scattering his thoughts mid conversation and making him lose hours at a time just reminiscing. But it was her mouth that had enslaved him. The things she had done with just her tongue. Christ.

“Full of surprises,” he murmured quietly to himself as he peered down at the slip of a woman taking up far too much time and space in his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Juliette didn’t answer. He wasn’t expecting one, but he continued to study her, taking note of just how vulnerable she looked in sleep. Such a change from the fierce, passionate woman who claimed his bed or stormed into his office like she’d like nothing better than to take a switch to his ass. The very idea was hilarious, he was twice her size, but in that moment, she seemed capable of just about anything.

Killian chuckled quietly to himself and realized with a start that he’d been doing that a lot lately. Laughing, chuckling … smiling. While he knew he wasn’t incapable, he truly couldn’t recall the last time he’d done any of those things. Maybe not since his mother’s death. There hadn’t been much to be happy about after that.

“Killian?” Juliette opened bleary eyes and squinted up at him. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Hi.”

Every muscle in his stomach clinched at that simple gesture. His chest cavity seemed to shrink, compressing his lungs and heart until both were struggling to keep him alive.

How did she do that?

“Hi,” he breathed out around the constriction.

She yawned behind her hand and struggled upright. The left side of her face, the one that had been mashed into the pillow, was pink and streaked with lines. It took all his willpower not to reach out and stroke the skin, to feel the warmth of it.

“I must have dozed off,” she murmured, casting a glance over to the window and the navy blue creeping across the heavens. “Is it very late?”

“No.” He rose to his feet, needing a modicum of space to regain some of his composure. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m all right,” she said a bit too fast. “I can wait until I get home.”

Frustration lifted his shoulders in a deep exhale. “Are you hungry?” he repeated, more firmly.

She looked up at him. “I can wait—”

“Christ, woman! It’s a simple enough question. Are you hungry?”

Her lips pursed in an annoyance that all too quickly dissolved into a smile that turned into a laugh.

“If you’re so adamant to feed me, then yes, I’m hungry.”

Glowering without heat, he offered her his hand and helped ease her off the bed. He kept his fingers locked around hers as he led them down towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until they reached the hall of windows that he noticed how short she was walking next to him. Most people usually were compared to him, but she normally came to his shoulders. She was now barely at the center of his chest.

“Where are your shoes?” he asked, realizing she wasn’t wearing any.

Juliette shrugged nonchalantly. “John is probably setting the devils on fire.”

Killian blinked. “What?”

She peered up at him, her eyes shining with mischief. “They hurt my feet. They had to die.”

Maybe it was her sly little grin or the way her nose crinkled just a bit when she said die, but something in him cracked and he was reaching for her before he could stop himself. His hands closed around her arms and he jerked her into his chest. Her gasp was swallowed by the mouth he slanted down hard over hers. His hand closed in her hair to cup the base of her skull. He crushed her to him as he devoured the sweet taste of her like a man starved.

Juliette moaned and melted into him. The sound vibrated against his lips as thin arms wound their way around his shoulders. Firm breasts mashed into his chest, the nipples hard points of arousal stabbing through both their tops. Toned thighs cradled up against his until she was perfectly aligned with every inch of him. Yet it wasn’t even close to being enough.

“Christ!” he groaned, his hold tightening on her.

Slim fingers tangled through his hair, holding his mouth over hers as she nipped lightly on his bottom lip.

“Take me back to bed, Killian.”

The very core of his being agreed with her husky murmur. His hands even started lifting her up into his arms. But that part of him, that little voice that reminded him her wellbeing needed to come before his needs, propelled him back to sanity.

“No.” Breathing hard, he jerked back just enough to breathe in something other than her sweet, musky scent. “You need to eat first.”

Brown eyes shimmered up at him with the sort of dark hunger that implied that she would be eating if he did what she asked. It was nearly impossible to ignore.

“Stop it!” Drawing back his hand, he swatted her smartly on the left ass cheek, making her yelp and blink with surprise. “Food first.”

The corner of her mouth twisted downward, but she didn’t protest when he led her the rest of the way to the kitchen.

Leaving her to find a spot at the island, Killian made his way to the fridge. Molly’s neatly labeled containers sat in several neat rows in the freezer. Any one of them would take mere minutes to heat up, but something stopped him. Maybe it was because he was tired of stew and broth. Maybe it was because he just didn’t want to stay home, but he turned to Juliette and found her gone. The kitchen was empty, save for him.

Bemused, he shut the freezer door and went in search of her and found the French doors open to the garden. Something tightened in his gut, a swell of dread that had no grounds. Aside from the gardener and himself, no one had ever been out there, not since his mom.

Moving carefully, he stepped out onto the stone patio and spotted Juliette almost immediately.

She stood at the railings overlooking a soft landscape of neatly trimmed grass surrounded by an array of flowers and shrubbery. A stone pathway cut along the side of the house and disappeared around back to where the garden really started, but she stayed on the patio.

“It goes on,” he told her, breaking the silence.

Juliette turned her head and met his gaze. “Show me?”

He should have said no. His home had too many ghosts and he didn’t care to share them with anyone. Instead, he found himself moving towards her. Found his hand slipping into hers. He guided her down the steps to the path.

The humid day had cooled to a soft, whispering breeze that wafted through the branches of a nearby oak tree. The leaves shivered, flashing almost silver in the fading light. Alongside him, Juliette’s bare feet made no sound at all as they turned the corner and came upon the main part of the garden.

“Oh my God!”

While most people had swimming pools and tennis courts in their backyard, his mother had built a paradise. Her own personal Eden, she’d called it. Growing up, Killian remembered being dragged across the globe in search of new ideas to bring home to their backyard. His mother had taken a bit of every place and somehow made it all possible right there in a breathtaking jungle of wonder. Flowers in all shapes, colors, and sizes ran rampant on either side of the path that wound deep into the heart of the maze. Trees and shrubbery loomed high and powerful in makeshift alcoves for sitting. A creek cut beneath a bridge that branched off into different sections. Each one held a new secret, secrets even Killian hadn’t discovered. It was three hundred and thirty acres of magic just waiting to be explored.

“This is … incredible!” Juliette breathed. Her hand slipped from his and she started forward. “It must have taken years to create.”

Thirteen, to be exact. His mom had started plans for the garden before the house was even built.

“A while,” he said, following her. “My mom loved the smell of soil. She liked the feel of it wet between her fingers. She’d spend hours out here, weeding and planting and growing things, even though she had an army of gardeners.”

Juliette shook her head. “No, something like this, you need to do it yourself to really feel pride in it. You can tell she loved what she was doing.”

“You should see the conservatory,” he said.

Juliette chuckled. “If I ever leave this place.” She exhaled. “I would have loved to be here as a little girl. It’s like a fairy garden.”

“That’s what my mom used to call it. She’d tell me that at night, when I was sleeping, all manner of creatures would crawl out of their hiding places and duel to see who was stronger. The elves, who were good and just, would battle the trolls, who wanted to destroy everything beautiful. During the summer, the elves would win and everything would bloom. Come fall, the trolls would dominate and everything would die. In the winter, both sides would hibernate, collecting their strength until spring when the elves would beat the trolls and unleash beauty on earth once more.”

Juliette laughed. “Your mom was clever, and very creative. I like that story.”

Killian gave a silent chuckle. “She was full of stories.”

“My mom used to read from books,” Juliette recalled. “Shakespeare mostly. She loved Shakespeare. She used to say that was why she married my dad, because the second she heard his last name, Romero, she knew he’d been meant for her. She’d climb into my bed and we had this fat book of Shakespearian plays and she’d say how Vi and I were both named after her favorite characters.” Her tone had taken on a wistful tone that made him want to draw her into his arms. “What were your parents like?”

It was strange, but no one had ever asked him that before. Most of the people he knew had known his parents. The rest … well, it wasn’t their business. So it took him a moment to think of something to say.

“Mom was beautiful,” he began. “Everyone loved her. It was hard not to. She had this aura around her that pulled people to her. She was kind and so giving. My dad used to tease that she would give her soul away if it meant saving another person. She loved to laugh. I remember her laughing and dancing a lot when I was growing up. But she had a temper.” He heard himself laugh. “Her Irish was strong, my dad would say. God help the poor soul that got in her way when she got her head fixed on something. My dad … he was a good man. He was fair and kind. He loved his family. I can’t remember a single time when he didn’t drop whatever he was doing to play with me. I never got told one minute or later. Nothing was more important than me and my mom.”

He broke off, horrified not just by how hot the skin around his face had grown, but by how easily she had coaxed something out of him that he hadn’t shared with anyone. The memories burned behind his eyes and lodged in his throat. He stared hard at the path beneath his feet and tried not to curse.

A small, cool hand slipped into his, silent, but screaming with so much emotion he almost jerked back. That simple gesture slammed into him with the weight of an iron fist; it had been so long since anyone had given him comfort, he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to say.

But she didn’t seem to want any words. Her fingers threaded through his and they walked on in absolute quiet.

Nearly an hour later, they returned to the estate. Killian shut the terrace doors and turned to the woman next to him. She was peering down at her feet, at the dirt clinging to pale skin. Her nail polish had chipped in several places, he noted when she wiggled her toes. Her head came up and her eyes met his.