Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)(83)

“And this…” With a slow, steady thrust, his c**k was deep inside her. “Is what I’m for.”

She groaned, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Not bad, Giuliani,” she whispered. “Not bad at all.”

An hour later, Harley was settled on the bed wrapped in a terrycloth robe, aimlessly flipping the channels on the plasma TV that had appeared, with a push of a button, from behind a sliding panel.

Her skin was pruny from the hour she’d spent in the shower with Salvatore, and her body deliciously sated, but she felt oddly restless as she shifted on the silken sheets and adjusted the pile of pillows behind her.

It would be simple enough to blame her fidgets on the chases, cave-ins, and numerous near-death experiences she’d endured over the past few days. What woman wouldn’t be twitchy?

Or even the fact that she was in an unfamiliar house, surrounded by dangerous demons who could call themselves family, but still were little more than strangers.

She knew, however, those weren’t the true reasons she couldn’t relax.

No.

Her inability to relax was directly due to Salvatore.

Or more precisely, the absence of Salvatore.

Damn the man.

After their prolonged, and deliciously erotic shower, Salvatore had dressed in one of the numerous designer suits that had been left in the walk-in closet, and pulled back his hair with a leather cord. Then with a lingering kiss, he’d taken off in search of Styx, leaving her to enjoy a quiet evening alone.

Exactly what she wanted.

So why did the humongous bed feel empty and the night stretch before her with a tedious boredom?

She clenched her teeth, jabbing her finger on the channel button of the remote control as she scrolled past infomercials, reruns of Green Acres, and a number of movies that involved an abundance of naked bodies and juvenile humor. There were a thousand channels. One of them had to have something worth watching.

She had just started on her third run through the channels when a light tap on the door offered a welcomed distraction.

Tossing aside the remote, she sucked in a deep breath, recognizing the scent of her sister.

“Darcy?”

“I come bearing gifts,” she called through the thick wood of the door. “Can I join you?”

“Of course.” Harley slid off the bed, her eyes widening in surprise as Darcy wheeled in a small cart that was overflowing with stacks of movies, bowls of popcorn, and large ceramic mugs. “How did you know…Salvatore.”

“He mentioned you wanted popcorn and a movie. I thought we could watch together if you don’t mind.” Darcy flashed a charming smile, looking decidedly impish in her casual shorts and skimpy top, her blond hair spiked. “I brought everything from Die Hard to You’ve Got Mail.”

“Definitely Die Hard,” Harley said before she could halt the revealing words. Hoping to cover her ridiculous aversion to romance, she bent to peer into the ceramic cups. “Hot chocolate?”

“My weakness.” Darcy perched on the edge of the bed as she waved a hand toward a delicately scrolled armoire. “There’s whiskey in the cabinet if you want it with a kick.”

Harley grimaced, joining her sister on the bed. “I prefer to keep my wits intact when Salvatore is around.”

“Ah.” Darcy tilted her head, studying her with an unnervingly perceptive gaze. “Very wise.”

Harley ran a self-conscious hand through her still damp curls.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Darcy grimaced. “I’m sorry. Nothing is a secret in the demon world.”

“What secret?”

“You’ve completed the mating bond.”

Harley pressed her hands to her face. Was that a blush heating her skin? Frigging hell. She was an idiot.

“Yes.”

“So, you’re Queen of the Weres. Congratulations.”

Disbelief jolted through her. Queen of Weres. She’d been so rattled by the shock of being mated to Salvatore that the rest of the baggage he brought with him had skimmed right over her head.

Until now.

She groaned, flopping back on the mattress.

“Oh, my God,” she moaned. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

“Harley?” Darcy’s worried face abruptly hovered over her. “Forgive me. I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth.”

Harley heaved a sigh that came from the tips of her toes. “It’s not you, Darcy. It’s Salvatore Giuliani.”

“Typical.” Darcy scooted back so Harley could push herself up on her elbows. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“All of this,” Harley muttered.

“Could you be a little more specific?”

Harley shivered, briefly closing her eyes. Even from a distance, she could sense Salvatore. He was in a room directly below her, pacing the floor with a barely controlled impatience that she felt as vividly as if it were her own emotion.

She lifted her head to meet Darcy’s gaze. “I’m not sure I want to be a mate, let alone the freaking Queen of Weres.”

Darcy’s lips twisted at her plaintive, yes, maybe even childish, tone.

“Get in line,” she said bluntly.

“Excuse me?”

“I seem to have this conversation a lot over the past few days,” she said with a rueful shake of her head. “Harley, you aren’t the first woman to be…”