The Darkest Secret Part 17

With one hand snaked around her waist, propping her up, he used his other hand to palm a bar of soap and began lathering her skin. But you were so happy at the beginning.

So intimate a task, so shattering a topic. Yet, despite who and what he was, she had never felt more comfortable with another being. He didn't try to arouse her as he cleaned her, careful of her cuts and bruises; he merely performed a basic task.

"Yes," she said.

Tel me, he repeated. Once her skin was washed free of dirt and grime, he ma.s.saged shampoo into her hair. The scent of sandalwood bonded with the rising steam.

She opened her mouth to obey, but the words tangled on her tongue. If she spoke them, she realized, she would fling herself back to the past, back to that dark, dark day that had forever changed the course of her life-and his. She would lose the tranquility of this moment.

Tranquility she desperately needed.

"No," she final y said. "Not now. Later. Please."

Our later is fil ing up.

"I know."

She expected him to push for answers, but he merely ducked her head under the spray of water and rinsed the suds from her hair. Clearly he understood a woman's needs because he coated the thick strands with conditioner, gave the cream time to do its job, then gently rinsed her hair again.

There. Al clean.

"Thank you."

He didn't switch off the water or even move from where he stood behind her. He simply continued to hold her, strong fingers tracing circles just below her navel, his chin resting atop her head.

Stil he didn't try to arouse her. Not once did he pluck at her pebbled nipples or brush his fingertips over her s.e.x. Yet, with every second that pa.s.sed, her skin became more sensitized, a primitive need unfurling inside her and overshadowing that thick cloak of fantasy.

Reality was better.

Stil . She had to resist. For every reason she'd already noted and the thousand others she hadn't yet considered.

Took every ounce of strength she possessed, but she stopped herself from lifting her arms, curling them back and digging her fingers into his scalp. Stopped herself from angling her face up to his for a kiss.

Bottom line, despite everything else, he didn't desire her. He couldn't. Not when she was practical y bare, covered only by thin strips of white cotton, and he'd had his hand al over her, yet had never tried to arouse her.

Suddenly that wasn't the comfort it had previously been.

Had he figured out exactly who she was? Was that why he no longer wanted her?

No, he couldn't know. Otherwise, he wouldn't be taking such good care of her. Most likely he'd just decided kissing a Hunter, any Hunter, was wrong.

"Amun, I have to-" she began, stopping when he stiffened.

What had she said?

You know my name?

Her nerve endings flared with trepidation. "Yes," she whispered.

So you know who and what I real y am. A statement of fact, not a question. You know I'm not your Micah.

No reason to deny the truth. "Yes." Another whisper.

And yet you of al people let me hold you like this?

Something about the absolute confusion in his tone alerted her. She replayed his words. "You of al people," he'd said.

Oh, G.o.d. She'd been wrong, she thought dizzily. He knew.

He'd already known she was a Hunter, yes. She'd told him.

Now, however, he knew the rest, the worst of the details. He knew about her part in Baden's death.

Why hadn't he kil ed her already?

The moisture in her mouth dried, and her knees began to tremble. "Defeat-Strider told you who I am.

What I've done." She was proud to note that no emotion fil ed her voice, only arctic steel.

No. I discovered the truth on my own. You were Hadiee then, but are now Haidee. Whoever you were, whatever you are, you were there when Baden was slain.

Confirmation. "And yet you of al people hold me like this?"

As she snapped the question, understanding dawned. This was the calm before the storm. He'd merely shown her the pleasure she could have had but now would be forever denied.

A bitter laugh escaped her. In a lifetime of regret and pain, he had no idea that denying her would simply be more of the same. That he wouldn't break her. Wouldn't ruin her. No matter what he did, she'd already experienced worse.

Amun spun her around before severing al contact. Their gazes locked, black fire glittering down at her.

She gasped as another realization struck. He hadn't been unaffected by touching her. Far from it. Lines of tension branched from his eyes and mouth. His lips were pul ed taut over the straight white pearls of his teeth. His breath emerged shal ow and fast, his nostrils flaring.

Wait. Did he want her? Or was he simply p.i.s.sed?

The swel ing had gone down in his face, revealing a rough beauty that shocked her further. His skin was like the richest coffee mixed with the slightest dol op of cream.

Those gorgeous black eyes were framed by a thick fan of silky lashes, lashes longer even than hers. He had an aquiline nose, regal and proud. His cheekbones were so sharp they could have cut gla.s.s. Lips that would have been considered cruel if not for their soft pink color glistening with moisture.

His chest was bare, scabbed in striking patterns of four.

Claw marks, she thought with a shiver. His own? Hers? His nipples were smal and brown, beaded.

Rope after rope of muscle descended the torso of a man who had honed his strength on the battlefield rather than inside a gym.

He wore sweatpants that hung low on his waist, revealing the barest hint of dark, springy curls on his groin. And when she saw that the rounded head of his p.e.n.i.s stretched past the material, s.e.m.e.n pearling from the slit, she swal owed, her gaze jerking back up to his face.

He was the gentle one, Strider had said. Yet she'd never seen a man look quite so fierce.

How did you get me mixed up with him?

"You guys look a lot alike. Weirdly alike."

Was he immortal? Pause. You know I'm immortal, right?

"Yes, I know, and no, he's not. Believe me, I would have known. He was injured time and time again, but he healed as slowly as any human."

So our likeness is a mere quirk of fate? Doubtful. I was created by Zeus, ful y formed, and I've often wondered if the former king had simply looked down from his perch in the heavens, picked out a face he liked and boom. But that creation happened thousands of years ago, so my face had to come first.

"And so you think someone else created Micah? Someone who saw you?"

Yes.

"Then how is he human?"

There are G.o.ds, humans, demiG.o.ds, and then creatures in between. He could be any number of things.

"Wel , maybe Zeus saw past, present and future faces, and picked from those. Or hey, maybe Micah's your son, and you just don't know it. I'm sure you've picked up a few humans in your time."

Not possible.

"Why? Accidents happen, even with immortals."

I haven't been with anyone in a long time. Like, a century.

And if he looks to be my age...

She couldn't hide her relief. He hadn't been with anyone in over a hundred years. Same with her. "Oh.

Wel , maybe he's a descendant of yours. Maybe it's just one of those strange, unexplainable things. Or hel , maybe-"

Okay. Maybe you're right, he al owed. Doesn't matter, anyway. We're on opposing teams.

"Very true."

So why did you change your name? he asked, switching gears.

"The simple change of spel ing helped me blend in as society changed around me," she said. "Plus, there are more Haidees than Hadiees, and I didn't want to be spotlighted for any demons that happened to be looking for me."

If you wanted to blend in, you shouldn't have done so much to stand out. His gaze raked her hair, her tattoos.

She stiffened at his obvious censure. What did she care if he found her appearance lacking? Except for the ache in her chest, she didn't care at al , she told herself.

How are we connected? he demanded, switching the subject again. Bye-bye distraction. He'd asked an excel ent question. How were they connected in mind and body?

"I-I don't know." Her cheeks flamed when she heard the stutter. She had fought and won too many battles to count.

This man would not intimidate her.

Why can't I harm you?

Had he tried? The thought unsettled her. "Maybe for the same reason I can't harm you."

And that is?

You're the sweetest form of temptation. I know the spicy decadence of your kiss. I've ridden your fingers and want to ride them again. Not that she'd make such an admission aloud. "I don't know. I've had the opportunity, though," she reminded him. "Several times."

A sigh slipped from him, easing some of his tension. But you soothed me instead. Protected me.

She nodded. "As you did for me."

For a long while, only the pattering of the water against the porcelain could be heard. Part of her was glad they knew about each other. That she didn't have to wonder what would happen when he discovered her secrets. The other part of her had never been more frightened.

They knew, but if they pursued each other anyway...there could be no excuses for their actions. For their stupidity.

Their friends would blame them, perhaps begin to hate them. And for what? No matter what they did, there could never be a happily ever after for them.

She must have retreated into her mind-a shocking discovery, that, since she never al owed herself to drop her guard-because she never saw him move, but suddenly his hands were clamped onto the flare of her hips. Another gasp escaped her as their gazes tangled anew.

Amun backed her up, pushing her under the waterfal , then walked through the spray himself, not stopping until she was smashed against the tiled wal . And even though they weren't touching anywhere but her waist, the heat of him wrapped around her, sinking past skin into bone. Her nipples hardened, aching for contact.

He looked capable of anything just then. Most especial y of driving her to the brink of pa.s.sion, of madness.

Stop this before it's too late, she commanded herself. A single brush of his lower body against hers, and "too late"

would happen. She knew it. After their last kiss...

She flattened her palms on his chest, felt the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat. A harried rhythm that matched her own. "I can't be with you this way. Until I've spoken to Micah." Oh, G.o.d. Had she real y said that? Had she real y just pushed the qualification out of her mouth, trying to pave the way for them to be together? Even for a little while?

Seriously. What the hel was wrong with her?

Amun's eyelids narrowed, hiding his irises. That should have lessened the dangerous magnetism of him.

It didn't.

She doubted anything could.

Why? The single word was snapped, demanding an immediate response.

"I have to tel him it's over between us." That was the only honorable thing to do. For al her faults, she truly wasn't a cheater. But G.o.d, even talking about this, she was undermining everything she'd already decided, not to mention her resolve to leave Amun alone.

You would end your relationship with him in favor of me? A demon-possessed warrior you've sworn to murder? He laughed without humor. I'm not as foolish as you apparently think I am.

She was the foolish one. They would never be able to trust each other, and with good reason. That stil didn't stop her from saying, "Yes." See? Foolish. She wanted to be with him. Despite everything, even her reasons for pushing him away, part of her needed him and that part clearly would not be denied.

His false laughter died quickly. Your relationship didn't stop you from kissing me before. Now his voice was a growl of frustration.

"I didn't know who you were then."

He pondered that for a moment, then nodded. Fine. I'l give you that. But how do I know this isn't a trick?