Moonglow. Part 30

Chapter Thirty-eight.

It was not Ian who sought her out hours later but Talent. Daisy stirred from her cold spot on the settee as he limped into her bedroom, his battered body bandaged up like a mummy.

"You should be in bed," she said. Her throat ached and her eyes burned, but the man before her looked like h.e.l.l.

He slumped onto the seat beside her and closed his eyes. "Doesn't matter where I am," he said. "I'll hurt like a b.i.t.c.h regardless."

"Your arm..." It was missing below his elbow. Guilt flooded her at the sight. He had been defending her.

"Will grow back. Eventually." He did not sound very concerned, merely annoyed. "Jesus, it's cold in here. Haven't you any notion of how to start a fire?" He cracked one eye open. "Or are we feeling sorry for ourselves?"

She didn't rise to his bait but stood and lit the coals that had been laid out, and then found her thick shawl to drape over him. Talent grunted in acknowledgment and kept his eyes closed. He didn't try to speak anymore, for which Daisy was truly grateful, but simply sat with her for a long while as they stared into the fire. Every bone in her body hurt. She ought to go home, only that place didn't feel like her home. Ian was her home. And she'd destroyed it. Eventually, she knew he'd seek her out and tell her to go. Until then, she would remain hiding away in cowardly fashion and aching to hold him.

"You had no choice."

She sucked in a breath at the sound of Talent's voice. It took her a moment to find her own voice. "It doesn't matter."

"It should. Maccon was insane, and hurting." He turned his head to look at her. "I heard him beg you."

Daisy winced, but he kept on. "You did him a kindness. Ian will understand. h.e.l.l, you called him back after the wolf claimed him. He ought to be thanking you."

Her laugh was weak and pained. "It was his will and the wolf's trust that brought him back. Not I. And as for his son, I fear logic and emotion never go hand in hand."

"No," Ian said from the door. "They don't."

Daisy and Talent stood up as one.

Ian stepped into the room, his expression implacable. He'd cleaned himself up and dressed. Yet he looked so defeated that she wanted to run to him and beg him to let her hold him. But she did not move. They stared at each other from across the room, the tension between them pulled as tight as a bowstring. Daisy could not think of a word to say to make things right.

Talent frowned and then stirred.

"Utter one word, Jack," came Ian's fierce growl, "and I'll rip yer sharp tongue from yer mouth."

Well.

Talent's mouth snapped shut. With a terse nod, he left them. Ian slammed the door shut behind him and stalked across the room.

All protest died on her lips as he hauled her against his chest in a bone-squeezing embrace and he buried his face in her hair. He stood shaking, holding her as if she might be s.n.a.t.c.hed away.

Nothing had ever felt better than his embrace. She clung to him and wished that it would never end.

"Don't," he pled when she started to speak. His grip tightened. "Just... don't. Not yet."

Whatever she felt at that moment receded in the face of his disquiet. He eased only a little when she slid her hands up and cupped his cheeks. Firelight turned his features into a patchwork of gold and amber angles and reflected in the haunted sheen of his eyes.

"Ian," she whispered, because she knew he liked his name upon her lips. Then she kissed him. He made a sound close to a whimper and then fell into the kiss, a man gripped by need.

She pulled back and touched his face. "Ian, you don't need to..."

"I do need." A cracked, raw sound left him as he rested his forehead against hers. "I need more than you know."

He unsheathed one claw and reduced her gown into tatters with stunning adeptness. Cold air shivered over her skin as he tumbled her onto the bed. Soft bedding enveloped her, and then he was there, the long length of his body pressing her deeper into the covers, the wool of his suit warm and rough against her nakedness.

His knuckles grazed her damp s.e.x as he unb.u.t.toned the fall of his trousers. The hot length of his c.o.c.k fell against her thigh, and Daisy undulated against him. Unsteady hands slid along her arms to capture her wrists. Their fingers twined, and he lifted her arms above her head.

His kiss was a desperate thing, without finesse. "I don't know any other way," he said against her mouth. "I don't know how else to show you."

His eyes were wild and frightened as he gazed down at her, pausing as if to see if she understood. She was pinned to the bed, his thighs holding hers so wide apart that she felt the exposure acutely, and with it, the need to be filled. Her heart knocked against her rib cage. For suddenly, she did understand. She blinked back the mist blurring her vision and tightened her grip upon his fingers.

"Then show me your way," she whispered.

A deep shudder racked his frame. She expected him to act, to take her with quick brutality, but he did not. He simply looked at her, his eyes wide open, hiding nothing, letting her in. What she saw took her breath. He was utterly beautiful to her just then. And she knew her heart and soul was no longer her own.

Holding her gaze, he tilted his head and kissed her, a soft, open-mouthed kiss of melting heat. The tip of his c.o.c.k nudged her opening, drawing her attention until it was the only thing she could think on. She wiggled against him, impatient and hurried. But he would not let her rush. Murmuring soothing words against her mouth, he gentled the kiss once more, his silken tongue dipping, tasting with smooth strokes.

Only when she panted with need and small cries left her mouth did he ease into her. Slow enough for her to feel every inch tunneling through her flesh, filling her up. She shuddered, her thighs aching to move. But she was pinned. And he was withdrawing with the same steady deliberation. Invasion, retreat, he worked an undulating rhythm that tormented. All the while, he kissed her, working her mouth as he worked her.

Her body shook, perspiration blooming along her heated skin. G.o.d, but this could become essential. A woman could want this every day. All the time. The feeling within her was almost angry, a blinding, dark thing that had her biting his lower lip before licking to soothe it.

He squeezed their twined fingers, his thrusts growing harder, his breath coming in shallow pants. She was burning up beneath him, the feel of his clothes heightening the sensation. She wanted to feel him without barrier.

His deliberation fractured into desperation. Groaning deeply, he dropped his forehead to her neck, burrowing there as he pushed deep.

A shiver lit over her skin, through her flesh, and into him. He shook with a violent tremor, but stopped. "Ah, G.o.d, I need-let me..." Shuddering, he withdrew, and before she could think, he turned her around to take her from behind. He stilled, remembering, perhaps, what had happened the last time he had tried. His big hand trembled as it pressed against her belly. "Please, Daisy, will you let me?"

The very idea set her aflame, released something wild within her, but his hesitation and concern for her was a kick to her heart. Her voice was barely a whisper when she responded. "Yes."

He expelled the breath he'd been holding. Stepping away, he ripped free of his clothes and then came back to her, his breathing as ragged as her own. She groaned as he nudged her legs apart. Daisy's eyes fluttered closed as she slumped forward and lifted her hips to him.

"Christ," he hissed as he sank in deep, and then his hands grasped her hips and he took her. It was brutal, savage, and Daisy shivered from the shocking pleasure of it, her mind crying out yes. And more.

Ian's body surrounded her, holding her, keeping her. His strong teeth, so unlike the wolf's, clamped down on the soft junction of her shoulder, and Daisy shattered. He followed her with a sharp cry as he strained against her.

In the resounding silence, he fell onto the bed next to her and threw an arm over his eyes. His glistening chest heaved as he lay there, struggling for breath. She moved to touch him, and he lowered his arm. Daisy's vision blurred as she saw the raw pain in his eyes.

"Ian."

"You brought me back." His voice was a ghost of itself.

"You came back. I wanted to be afraid, but I knew in my heart that you would."

"I came back to you." Without another word, he curled against her, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck. She held him tight as he silently wept for the loss of his son, and even his brother. Eventually he calmed, his long body becoming loose and warm against hers. As they drifted off to sleep, her last bit of peace shattered when he whispered, "They all die."

They would have to talk. Eventually. Daisy knew this. Pull the thorn out quickly, was what her mother used to say. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to see Ian hurt any further. And she knew he would be. So she let him sleep. And sleep Ian did, his big, lean body taking up their bed in a sprawl of golden limbs and tousled auburn hair. He slept like the dead. Grief could do that to a person, make them seek the oblivion of sleep rather than face the day. Daisy knew from experience.

Acting the coward, she dressed and then watched over him until the sunlight crept up his long legs and played with the flat muscles along his back.

When he finally stirred, she went to him. Sleep mussed and grumbling, Ian tugged her near, wrapping his arms about her waist and resting his head in her lap. He seemed to breathe her in, his chest lifting with it. His fingers plucked at her dressing gown. "You're dressed," he said from the comfort of her lap. It sounded like a complaint.

Though it made her want to smile, she couldn't. Softly she stroked his silken hair. A lump rose in her throat. "It's midday."

"Is it?"

"Mmm." She smoothed a strand of hair between her fingers. Ian sighed and nuzzled against her. So very wolfish, she thought, a smile rising at last. But the smile faded. "Ian." She laid her hand upon the crown of his head. "Ian, I am so sorry."

Tension tightened along his body. She felt him swallow. His voice was low but controlled when he spoke. "Talent was in the right. You did Maccon a mercy." Lightly, he traced along the swirling pattern in her skirt. "I was coming to do the same thing, love. I... He did not deserve to suffer.

"Last night," he said after a moment, "when I..." A rough exhale sent warmth against her belly. "I thought I was too late," he rasped. "I thought-" He sucked in a deep breath. "f.u.c.k."

She hugged him close. "Had I known, I would have waited for you. I wish I had done so with all my heart."

He didn't seem to hear her. "I couldn't bear it, Daisy, if you'd died. I don't want to live in a world without your light. Letting my wolf free did not matter if it saved you."

He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time and he lifted his hand to slowly trace the contours of her face as if imprinting them in his mind.

"I love you." He said it so simply, without reservation or shame. As though he'd said the words to her a thousand times.

It took her breath and shattered her heart.

The corner of his lips quirked in a repentant smile. "I should have told you before but I haven't... I haven't said the words in a long time."

Quickly, she pressed a hand to his jaw, running her thumb across his bottom lip. "Hush." Her insides were tearing apart. And it hurt. It hurt so badly, she thought she might wail. But she forced herself to say what she must. "Hush, Ian."

She bent over and gave him a soft, quick kiss and almost sobbed. "You needn't..." Her mouth wobbled, threatening to betray her, and she took another breath. "You needn't feel obliged to say those things."

He went utterly stiff against her, his expression recoiling as though he'd been struck. Daisy forged on, making herself speak quickly. See the deed done. "I know you care, Ian."

"Care." His voice was flat, his eyes narrowing. "Care? Obliged?"

He sat up full, and she drew away, sensing the inevitable explosion. But he wouldn't let her go far. Strong hands whipped out to clasp her upper arms in an unbreakable grip. Her heart cracked at the pain swimming in his blue gaze.

"I tell you I love you. Words I vowed never to say to another again." His fingers bit into her soft flesh. "And you think them spoken out of obligation?" His voice turned sharp, cutting. "Out of some warped need to... coddle you?"

"Ian," she whispered, for her voice wouldn't obey her any more than her heart would. "You're hurting me."

His eyes widened, and he let her go as if burned. With a curse, he jumped up, oblivious to his nakedness. "Aye, and you are hurting me," he snapped. "Or are my feelings so unworthy as to not merit discussion?"

Daisy got to her feet. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course they matter."

"Oh?" His brows slashed upward. "I tell you I love you. And in turn, you spout utter rot. Do I mean nothing to you?"

"Yes!" Oh, but the walls were closing in on her, his questions making her too hot, too agitated. "I care for you as you care for me."

"Care," he snarled, tossing up a hand. His eyes flashed blue fire. "I'm beginning to hate that word *care.' f.u.c.k *care'!"

He paced toward her, gathering her in his arms again, his eyes wild but his touch careful now. "No more deflections, Daisy-Meg. It's just you and me here. Tell me. Tell me why you cannot accept that I love you." Doubt flickered in his troubled gaze. "Why you cannot say that you love me."

She wrenched herself out of his embrace and stumbled back when he moved toward her. "Because you cannot love me. You should not," Daisy shouted. "I am not for you, Ian Ranulf. I am mortal, if you remember. I will die."

He flinched then. "Aye. Some days that's all I think of, and it cuts me to the soul."

She gasped, pressing a hand to her throbbing head. "And you ask me why I resist?"

"I know why you resist," he retorted. "Why I resisted for as long as I did." He took another step closer. "And I told you before, I'm willing to risk the pain to be with you, Daisy mine." Ian's expression darkened as he bore down on her. "Yesterday you were willing to try. Yesterday you agreed to become my wife."

Yesterday her life was filled with hope. She wrenched herself out of his embrace and stumbled back. "Yesterday, I didn't fully appreciate the reality of what we would be to each other." She paced away from him and the look of betrayal and pain she'd put in his eyes. "I don't want do this while you're hurting. I don't want to say these things now."

"Then don't say them!"

"Someone has to. I know how much it devastated you to lose Maccon." Her stomach pitched as he winced. "And if we continue on this way, it will happen to you again." She tried to touch him but he flinched away. Her hand curled into a fist as she let it drop. "I can be unselfish for once. I can do that much for you."

The whites of his eyes were red and gla.s.sy as he glared at her. "You're running away. Again."

"Yes," she said, backing away. "I will not be another regret, Ian. I cannot be the one to cause you pain when I die and leave you behind." Pain lanced through the center of her skull, and she ground her teeth. "Love should not be the destruction of another. Talent was in the right. I make you weak, Ian. I cannot bear the thought of making you weak. Not you, the strongest man I've ever known."

He stared at her for a long moment, his head c.o.c.ked as if he were confused. But the clouds cleared, and he appeared almost angry.

"Christ." He strode forward. His mouth took hers in an open, heady kiss that spoke of frustration and desperation. She gave as good as she got, sinking into him because this was the last time she could. On a groan, his kiss gentled, exploring, coaxing. And when they finally parted, he gazed down at her.

"You never made me weak," he said, giving her a little shake. "You make me strong." His big hands smoothed up her arms. "Just knowing you're in this world makes me want to live in it, makes me want to fight."

A small sob broke from her lips, and his gaze grew tender as he brushed a kiss along her temple. "No, my Daisy-Meg," he said against her hair. "Never weak, but infinitely strong."

Sunlight gilded the swells of his shoulders and turned the ends of his hair into bronze. When he spoke, his voice was clear and firm. "I would be a G.o.d with the power of your love. If I knew that I had it."

He touched her cheek. "But I cannot do it alone. I cannot bow and sc.r.a.pe for each sc.r.a.p, hoping you'll see what I see in us. I won't have you by default." A small smile lifted his mouth. "Ah, but if you gave it to me freely, I swear on my soul I wouldn't let it go to waste. With everything I am, I'd give it back to you in return. I'd keep ye, love ye till my last breath, la.s.s."

Softly, he kissed her. A promise. It was all she ever wanted. He was home, peace, and happiness. And it split her in two. A hole lay in her chest where her heart had been, and she felt as though it bled straight through her skin and onto her clothes. Everything in her turned cold, then hot. Why did he have to make it so hard? Why did he have to fight her? She wanted to kick and bite him for her pain, for his. So she turned from him.

Ian simply followed her with his head. "Tell me that you don't love me, Daisy." His chest heaved. "If that be the case, tell me and I'll let you go."

Tears leaked from her eyes, scalding her skin as they ran free. "I cannot."

He exhaled with a deep shudder, his grip easing. "Then why-"

"I'm dying, Ian."

The statement snapped like a whip, making his head rear back and his body tense. She closed her eyes on a sigh, defeat suddenly making her utterly weary.

"What-" He swallowed audibly.

"Maccon," she croaked. "He bit me on the night he first attacked." Quickly, she licked her dry lips. "I've had headaches, sore throats, dizzy spells... I found the sore yesterday morning. Archer confirmed it. I have syphilis."