Shadow's End (Elder Races, #9)(58)

The Elven male hesitated. Then he said, “Good night.”

As he stepped out of the bedroom, she took a deep breath and let the tension leave her spine. What a strange, heartbreaking yet hopeful conversation.

Taking her by the elbow, Graydon gently nudged her out onto the snowy balcony again. As she complied, he pulled the doors closed behind them.

Silently, he told her, It’s late at night, in December. I doubt there are any surveillance cameras out here. Even if there are, they can’t hear what we say telepathically. He pulled her into his arms, and she went willingly, burying her face in his warm, strong neck. As he cupped the back of her head, he asked, How do you think it went?

As well as can be expected, and better than I had feared. She sighed, losing herself in his clean, male scent and the warm strength of his large body. We were all as careful as we could be. I think Ferion will try his hardest to do what he said he would—but we still can’t trust him.

Much as she wanted to. Much as, she now believed, he truly deserved.

I agree. Graydon rubbed his face in her hair.

She could feel every finger as he spread his hand against her and rubbed her back. The sensation was soothing and arousing at once. Warmth spread through her, and an ache grew in the private place between her thighs. She bit her lips, wanting so badly to act on her feelings and yet not daring.

He added, When it comes to Ferion, we need to think in probabilities, not assurances. And we need to think of how to get you out of here without triggering any response from him, or Malphas.

Both you and Ferion opened that door, she told him. Now I’m going to walk through it. You’re going to leave, and I’ll call Linwe in here and tell her we’re going for a walk. I like to walk in Central Park. For me, it’s a perfectly normal activity.

Good gods, Bel. Tell me you don’t go walking in Central Park at night. He sounded concerned and amused at once.

She pulled back to tilt an eyebrow at him. Do you really think anyone would see me, if I chose for them not to?

A smile creased his face. You have a point. He sobered. As soon as you’re out, I’ll come get you. We can still have that meeting tonight after all.

Her pulse quickened at the thought. Yes. I’ll be a half an hour—no later than an hour at the most, I promise.

His gaze darkening, he laid a big hand along the side of her cheek. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Promise though she might to meet him, it was still not a certainty.

She would probably meet him in no later than an hour.

Ferion would probably keep his word. At least, now she knew he wanted to.

Graydon muttered, You could still come with me now.

Just take your hand and fly into the night, she whispered back, smiling at him. How she wanted to. She couldn’t think of anything more perfect.

Yes. He took her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm. At the sensation of his lips against her sensitive skin, hot pleasure weakened the muscles in her legs.

She forced herself to remain coherent. I can’t just go with you. I don’t think we dare be that overt. We need to try to give at least the illusion of some normality, in order to support the lie. It isn’t only Ferion we need to be mindful of. Malphas might actually have other spies in the Elven household. If he’s spread thin, as Ferion’s surmised, what more logical way to keep an eye on one of his most valuable investments? That’s what I would do.

Air hissed between his teeth as he sucked in a breath. I hadn’t considered that possibility.

You’ve been busy, she told him. Unable to keep from touching him, she pressed one hand over his, at her cheek, smiling up at him.

His gaze grew heavy-lidded, piercing. Slowly, he lowered his head. He gave her plenty of time to realize his intent and pull away.

Even as she noticed it with one part of her mind, the rest of her grew fevered. She felt crazed by desire. She needed to feel his lips against hers so badly, she couldn’t stand it. Raising up on her tiptoes, she met his open mouth with hers.

The breath left his body in a shudder, as if he had slammed into a wall. Suddenly he crushed her against his chest, kissing her with the same kind of rampant hunger that swept through her like wildfire.

Slanting his lips over hers, he pierced her over and over with his tongue, f*cking her mouth, while he gripped the back of her neck and held her in place.

A whimper escaped her. It was such a needy, sexual sound, it sent a thrill of shock through her.

It didn’t sound like her at all. She was usually so careful and considered. Her first instinct was to reach for diplomacy, to speak the quiet path and measure every action she took.

This sounded like a husky, impetuous stranger driven wild by her feelings, like someone who might do anything to be with the person she needed—including lying. Cheating. Killing. Her body caught fire.

In that moment, she forgot everything else. The bargain, the danger. Graydon could have done anything to her, and she would have welcomed it.

She needed him to do everything to her.

He growled softly. It wasn’t a nice, safe sound, full of affection or play. He sounded feral and dangerous. He sounded like she felt.

The beat of her pulse filled with urgent need. The rhythm became the entire world. She existed in the rushing flow of life in her veins.

Then he went taut, his massive body clenched in protest even as he dragged his mouth away from hers. His pulse hammered too, fast and hard, while his breathing had turned harsh and ragged.