The Darkness in Dreams (Enforcer's Legacy, #1)(97)

“She’ll be all right, love. She just has to remain calm.”

“I knew it wouldn’t be easy with that damn blood bond. Can’t you go into her mind and try to help?”

“Not without permission—that would make it worse. Just keep talking to her. Keep her calm.”

“I don’t know if I can.”




It was dark outside when Lexi heard the voices again. She’d lost all sense of time, shrank back into the shadowed corner as the door unlocked with a smooth snick. Christan stepped inside. He took one look at her tear ravaged face and dropped to his knees.

“Come home, cara,” he said, his voice shaking. “Please… let me take you home.”

Lexi shook her head, trembling. “I’m afraid.”

“You have more courage than anyone I have ever known. Please, cara. Fight for me as hard as I’m fighting for you.”

His voice was raw. She saw the fear in his eyes, black pools. Fight for us, she’d said to him in Zurich. It was all he was asking of her now.

“I’m changing.”

“Then we’ll change together.” He stretched his arms wide and she didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up, held her tight against his chest while she pressed her face against his throat and cried. He crooned as if she were a small child, rocking her back and forth until she calmed enough that he could loosen his hold to stroke her damp hair.

“Sei la mia vita,” he whispered.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you are my life, cara. The other half of my soul. I am only half a man without you.”

“You only think that because she made you think it.”

“Sono passo di te.”

“You have to stop speaking Italian or else I’ll have to remember it and my memory isn’t that good.”

“Lo scelgo te. Solo tu,” he whispered against her throat.

“You just think you can sweet talk me into cooperation using words I don’t know.”

“Cucciola, I can’t wait to see you naked. I could have said that in Italian, but those words, cara, I want you to know.”

He kissed her then, with such heat she was burning. His arms tightened and he rose strong and fluid to his feet, smelling of sunshine and wild sweet oranges. His voice, so deep in his throat she trembled.

“Let me take you home.”

“I can’t go back there.”

She felt him shudder. “I would never take you back there.” And she knew he felt the same grief she did. They could never go back to a villa that once held such promise, a place where they’d loved, where she’d stomped delphiniums in the sun. She curled her fingers in the midnight of his hair.

“Wherever you are, that is my home.”

“We’ll go to the mountains. Arsen’s compound.”

“Can I have my same cabin?”

“You liked that bath, didn’t you?”

“And the fireplace. That flicky thing you did with your hand.”

She heard him laugh. “I’ll arrange it with Arsen.”

“He’s a good friend.”

“Yes, he is.”





CHAPTER 40




Wallowa Mountains, Oregon




Within three hours, they were safe at the compound in the Wallowa Mountains. Christan hadn’t given her time to change her mind. He’d tossed her clothes from the closet to the bed with male efficiency, and Lexi hadn’t bothered to complain. She’d simply refolded everything and filled a suitcase. Marge assured her that the cottage would be closed up and the food donated to the food bank, while Arsen called ahead to the chef. A light meal was waiting at the main lodge when they arrived. But neither Christan nor Lexi felt hungry. Lights and temperature controls for each cabin could be accessed through smart phones, and when Christan tugged her by the hand and they walked along the path, she could see the warm glow of welcome through the trees.

Snow still covered the ground. The moon was high and the sky was clear. Christan wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as they counted the first five stars twinkling to life in the sky.

“Why did we start this tradition?” Lexi asked, gripping his wrists, burying her fingers to escape the cold.

He kissed the top of her head. “You wanted something we could share no matter where I might be.”

“Did you leave often?”

“Yes.” His arms tightened. “It was not unusual for men to leave during those centuries. There was always a war somewhere.”

“When did we do it?” she asked, with drowsy curiosity. “What lifetime was it, when we came up with the tradition?”

“The first.”

“And each lifetime after that?”

“For some reason, cara, it was always your idea. It was how I knew.”

“Who I was?”

“That some part of you remembered who I was.”

Lexi shivered, and gently, he urged her up the three small steps to the cottage porch, led her through the door. While he stopped to wipe up the snow they’d tracked in, Lexi glanced around. The cabin was as perfect as she remembered. A fire was blazing in the fireplace. The glass jar filled with pine cones now had fairy lights and created a magical glow. She picked up the mohair throw she’d folded over the end of the couch the day she left.