The Darkness in Dreams (Enforcer's Legacy, #1)(81)

Lexi collapsed across Christan’s chest. She was wrecked. He had destroyed her, completely and irrevocably. There would never be another male for her, only this male, and it frightened her, the intensity of her emotions.

She had fallen in love with him as Gaia, pure and innocent, and again when he told her the story of five-year-old Gemma, stomping through delphiniums in search of butterflies he alone could give. What she felt now—it was not soft. It wasn’t even close to gentle and innocent. It was fierce, overwhelming, and she would never be whole without this man at her side. She moved restlessly, but his fingers tangled deeper into her hair, holding her in place. She pushed with gentle hands; his grip tightened, and he murmured, “Gemma, don’t leave.”

Gemma. Lexi froze, then carefully untangled her hair and stood up on shaking legs. She reached for her panties and sandals, slipped them on. She was three steps away when he opened his eyes and pinned her.

She stopped breathing. Something aggressive moved across his face, mixed with concern as he took in her tense form. He didn’t move from his prone position, but she saw the readiness tighten throughout his body. He studied her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“You called me Gemma.”

He looked perplexed for a moment. “And that was wrong? You were her.”

“But I’m me now,” she said, lifting her shoulders as tears stung her eyes. So much she wanted to say to him and there were no words to explain.

He’d asked her to see him as he was, half human, half immortal. She needed him to see her as she was, not as one of the lovers she had been—she couldn’t be his second or third or sixth chance to get it right, an extension of a past that ended in failure. Such an end this time would break her beyond pain.

Lexi could sense him watching, trying to understand the thoughts flowing through her mind. She knew he could access them telepathically. He understood how invasive it would be and gave her privacy. It marked how far they’d come, perhaps. How far apart they still were.

“I’m not one of those G names in this lifetime,” she said with a voice that was too calm. “When you look at me, you see the part that was Gemma, or Gaia. I need you to see me, Christan. That I do this by choice and not because of an Agreement or some past issue that was never resolved. We start fresh, as we are now, or we don’t start at all.”

She was standing like a pagan huntress, proud and burning as sunlight caught in her hair. Comprehension dawned. He was off the chaise before she could flee, wrapping her in his arms as if he could never let her go.

“Sweet girl,” he whispered against her throat. “There is only you.”





CHAPTER 34





They showered in the bathroom with a fresco of cherubs painted on the ceiling, then dressed and sprawled lazy and contented in the afternoon sun. Christan asked her how the earth felt in this place, if she picked up any residual energies, and Lexi smiled and said it felt like home.

When she asked, he told her of his life, in an abbreviated fashion, leaving out the worst. Then she told him about Rock Cove and he laughed at her childhood antics, seeing her as she must have looked running barefoot through the woods. Her grandmother had been wise, but as the stories unfolded he heard the loneliness and knew he was the cause. Christan would give her these few hours of happiness if he could.

Hunger drove them to the kitchen where they cooked a simple meal. Lexi held a glass of Chianti and watched the pasta boil. Christan stood beside the gas-fired stove, tossing fresh ricotta, chopped walnuts and parsley with olive oil in a bowl. There was crusty bread, still soft in the middle, with salt and olive oil. They carried the brightly colored dishes outside, sat at a table beneath the trees draped in twinkling lights.

As they ate, the sun disappeared, descending in a slow dance of rose and gold. The hills dissolved into a haze of purple. When light from a hilltop town shimmered in the dusk, they talked like lovers. Gentle touching. Low laughter. They shared both intimacies and secret jokes. Hope and regret. Christan’s arms circled her and Lexi pressed against his heart and stroked his back.

“You must have been bad,” she teased, “if they made up a myth to explain you.”

“Who have you been talking to?” he demanded with mock reproof.

“Who do you think?” Lexi closed one eye and peered closer, then opened that eye while closing the other. “Did you really turn into a dragon?”

Christan’s skin shimmered. Her lips parted at the sheen of gold scales before he changed back.

“Wow.”

“That’s it? The extent of your reaction to what once terrified the ancient world?”

“Words fail me.”

She was giggling. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back. Then they counted the first five stars in the fading dusk. One star each, for faith, strength, vision, courage. And love. It was a ritual they’d shared, he explained, in every lifetime.

When the night grew too dark to remain outside they carried their plates to the kitchen.

“No,” Christan said when Lexi reached for the light. “It’s better if we remain in the dark.”

He’d known for the past three hours but hadn’t wanted her to worry. Couldn’t afford to be weak under the circumstances. He explained their situation, holding her hands while her tension increased.