Page 50 of Wicked Shadows
14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“You’re treatingme like I’m a fragile doll you’re convinced will shatter any second now.” The curt undertone in Elle’s voice left no room for doubt regarding her frustration.
“For a while there, I thought you might.” Devon watched her cautiously, unconvinced she was as “fine” as she professed.
“Who was that man standing outside the spa? Did you know him?” Her eyes held a challenge he hadn’t seen before. She was asking more than her words conveyed, though she didn’t want to admit it, even to herself.
“What man? Why would you think I know anyone here?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you answer with a question and keep everything as vague as possible.” She moved from the dresser to the bed, packing her clothes for the flight home.
Devon could only watch with his heart in his throat. She’d only sampled a small taste of his life—and he’d even tried to keep her out of that, as easy as it had been. She wasn’t cut out for the life of a spy, or a spy’s wife. She was too well-known. She’d be used against him. She was truly his weakness—his Achilles’ heel.
A simple mission had all but ruined his last night on the island with her. His last night ever. The events of the day revealed what he’d known all along. But like Elle, he didn’t want to face or accept the truth he already knew. He had to let her go, once and for all. For both of their sakes, he had to sever their ties and allow her to live her life in the light of the stars, while he remained in the shadows where he belonged.
She folded a shirt and placed it in her suitcase. When she moved to the closet to get the next one, he stood and moved into her path, stopping her with his sheer size.
“Elle, it’s our last night together,” he began. His words struck a chord in her, forcing her eyes to fly up and meet his. “Our last night of vacation on this gorgeous island, with the incredible suite and warm infinity pool. I don’t want to spend it fighting or being distant. Today was upsetting for you, I know. But do you think we can enjoy what little time we have left?”
Her expression softened, and she smiled lovingly up at him. “I would love that, Devon. I’d love to pretend this afternoon never happened and move back into our bubble of happiness where nothing bad can touch us. Care to pretend with me?”
“I’d love nothing more than to pretend all night with you.” He leaned down and captured her mouth with his.
She expected his usual dominant side to emerge and start giving her orders. Not that she’d ever minded his take-charge attitude or his ability to make her feel like a rag doll by the time she’d snuggled beside him to sleep. But his gentleness surprised her. He took his time undressing her and laid her on the bed. He quickly shed his clothes and joined her.
His fingers glided over her skin as if they had a singular purpose of memorizing every inch of her body. Heated eyes followed their path, but his self-control kept his urges in check. Soft lips placed numerous kisses all over her, worshiping her body with palpable reverence and devotion. The intensity of his emotions streamed out of him without a single word to convey his thoughts. Every articulation he couldn’t voice was clearly pronounced in the way he made love to her soul by simply caressing her body.
His nose skimmed along her stomach, and he inhaled deeply, drawing in her scent. The first splinter in her heart appeared.
His tongue blazed a trail over the sensitive skin between her breasts, greedily ingesting her flavor like a man starved. The splinter in her heart became a fissure.
He nibbled on the delicate skin along the side of her neck and watched with rapt attention as the cold chills flared out across her skin. One side of his mouth lifted slightly in amusement, but the smile never reached his eyes.
The fissure became a fracture.
Positioned between her legs, he straightened his arms to hover over her. He pushed forward, his cock brushing against her pussy before he nudged his way inside. Her eyes closed automatically when she moaned, relishing the sensation of him rocking into her. He stopped abruptly and waited for her to look at him again. With her eyes opened and locked on his, he began surging into her again with full, controlled movements. With bent arms, he framed her face and continued, never moving his eyes from hers. When he reached around to wrap his arms under her knees, his gaze never strayed—and he didn’t allow hers to move from him. His message and intentions were clear.
Their connection was more than physical. In any other circumstance, long periods of direct eye contact would’ve been uncomfortable. But not that night—not with him. The feelings they conveyed to each other with only a slight shift of expressions communicated much more than words could.
When she thought he couldn’t extract one more scream from her, he proved her wrong. When her skin became slick with sweat and her breaths became labored from exertions, he seemed to gain his second wind. When she didn’t think her body could take his sensual form of torture one more second, he slowed his efforts to let her recover but didn’t break their union.
When his body forced his release, a moment of grave sadness flashed across his face, deepening his already dark blue eyes further. She searched his face wordlessly, questioning him without verbalizing the fears inside. Everything about their encounter was different than every other time. Part of her tried to rationalize it was symbolic of the two weeks coming to an end and knowing they’d be apart for weeks on end again. But a dire warning registered, and she knew that wasn’t the reason behind their profound lovemaking experience.
He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers—lightly at first, then more firmly until a rift in his self-control revealed an instant of desperation in his caress.
Her heart shattered in her chest.
After rolling onto his side, he pulled her flush against him and clung to her as if she were his only lifeline in the sea raging out of control in a storm. Even after his exhaustive actions during their carnal union, tension streamed from him with full blunt force. She eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep in his arms.
One advantage a predawn flight held was no one actually wanted to speak to anyone else unless it was absolutely necessary. Elle was thankful for that, and for Devon packing the rest of their clothes while she showered, trying to wake up after their late-night endeavors. When she emerged from the bathroom, the butler had already taken their luggage down to the waiting taxi.
Devon closed his hand around hers, threw her carry-on bag over his other shoulder, and led her out of the room. The door clicked shut behind them, automatically locking them out of the room without giving them a chance for one final glance back.
When their plane reached cruising altitude, she yawned repeatedly while attempting to fight back the sleep that tried relentlessly to overtake her. He reached over to press the button to recline her seat then covered her with both her and his blankets.
“Rest,” he commanded softly.
