shoulders to toes. But when her belly flattened against the hard length of his arousal, Lucan sucked in a sharp breath and abruptly terminated the kiss.
He took a step back. Slowly, he released her from the protective circle of his arms. With one hand, he turned the door handle. His mouth danced once more across hers, chaste and soft. “Good night, Chloe.”
“Good night,” she whispered as he stepped into the hall.
CHAPTER 9
Lucan let himself inside Gareth’s room and made his way through the dark to the empty sofa. He said a quiet prayer on finding Gareth sprawled across the bed, snoring quietly. Conversation was the last thing he wished to encounter after what had transpired on the threshold of Chloe’s room.
Damnation, he had not intended one kiss to go so far. If it had not been for the fierce surge of white heat that shot stars through his mind when her body nestled against his swollen shaft, he would have taken her there on the floor. He was not opposed to such a notion—floor, bed, wall, couch, where mattered little. ’Twas the timing that concerned him. The hesitancy in her amber eyes before she yielded to the kiss. If she were not fully ready for something so simple, she would not embrace their inevitable joining. Her body would, aye. But she would regret waking from the haze of desire.
When he took her, and aye, he would, ’twould be to both her heart and her body that he brought pleasure.
He pulled off his boots and stretched out on the cushions. ’Twas also the matter of the glyph he must negotiate before he could consider a deeper involvement with Chloe. Oaths and vows aside, what she showed him tonight concerned him far more than the demons that collected in her shadow. The two paired hand in hand, but Chloe carried the mark of Azazel.
Someone in Egypt branded her for the dark lord.
Centuries had passed since he last witnessed the mark of Saladin’s most faithful. So much time he thought to never look upon the glyph again. Yet tonight, he discovered it in his seraph.
Her hesitancy to accept a fair agreement regarding the Veronica added to the burden of his mind. Her resistance, combined with the demons and Alaric’s words, only increased his suspicions that Azazel had already approached Chloe. Lucan could find no other reason for the mounting list of oddities about his intended mate.
Her on-and-off demeanor. Her fierce arguments that he did not trust her. Her insistence to guard the Veronica on her own, her refusal to open the reliquary with anyone else present—all acts that united her with the unholy one.
Add into the mix that unlike the previous pairings of Templar and seraphs, he could find no real obstacle to overcome, and as much as he wished to deny it, he could not turn away from the very likely possibility Chloe had been seduced by evil and worked to find a means of turning over the Veil. His presence, along with Caradoc’s and Gareth’s, made what she had been tasked with difficult. For if she chose to surrender the relic whilst they were present, she would fail.
She would not perish, but she would fail, and restoring her from Azazel’s clutches might well erase what remained of her mind.
God’s teeth—could he be part of a greater nightmare?
Tossing an elbow over his eyes, he groaned. Nay, he was missing something. He must be. If Chloe’s soul housed darkness, his would recognize it. As his spirit balked each time he confronted Azazel’s minions and stirred each time he crossed their vile path, he would feel darkness within her when he stood at her side.
Though his body had most assuredly awakened, tonight the darkness slumbered.
Lucan squeezed his temple between thumb and middle finger to drown out the noise. For the first time in a great many years, he questioned his ability to succeed in the Almighty’s design. If he could not sift through fact and fiction and separate suspicion from what he recognized as truth, he could not hope to gain her oath. He would
He took a step back. Slowly, he released her from the protective circle of his arms. With one hand, he turned the door handle. His mouth danced once more across hers, chaste and soft. “Good night, Chloe.”
“Good night,” she whispered as he stepped into the hall.
CHAPTER 9
Lucan let himself inside Gareth’s room and made his way through the dark to the empty sofa. He said a quiet prayer on finding Gareth sprawled across the bed, snoring quietly. Conversation was the last thing he wished to encounter after what had transpired on the threshold of Chloe’s room.
Damnation, he had not intended one kiss to go so far. If it had not been for the fierce surge of white heat that shot stars through his mind when her body nestled against his swollen shaft, he would have taken her there on the floor. He was not opposed to such a notion—floor, bed, wall, couch, where mattered little. ’Twas the timing that concerned him. The hesitancy in her amber eyes before she yielded to the kiss. If she were not fully ready for something so simple, she would not embrace their inevitable joining. Her body would, aye. But she would regret waking from the haze of desire.
When he took her, and aye, he would, ’twould be to both her heart and her body that he brought pleasure.
He pulled off his boots and stretched out on the cushions. ’Twas also the matter of the glyph he must negotiate before he could consider a deeper involvement with Chloe. Oaths and vows aside, what she showed him tonight concerned him far more than the demons that collected in her shadow. The two paired hand in hand, but Chloe carried the mark of Azazel.
Someone in Egypt branded her for the dark lord.
Centuries had passed since he last witnessed the mark of Saladin’s most faithful. So much time he thought to never look upon the glyph again. Yet tonight, he discovered it in his seraph.
Her hesitancy to accept a fair agreement regarding the Veronica added to the burden of his mind. Her resistance, combined with the demons and Alaric’s words, only increased his suspicions that Azazel had already approached Chloe. Lucan could find no other reason for the mounting list of oddities about his intended mate.
Her on-and-off demeanor. Her fierce arguments that he did not trust her. Her insistence to guard the Veronica on her own, her refusal to open the reliquary with anyone else present—all acts that united her with the unholy one.
Add into the mix that unlike the previous pairings of Templar and seraphs, he could find no real obstacle to overcome, and as much as he wished to deny it, he could not turn away from the very likely possibility Chloe had been seduced by evil and worked to find a means of turning over the Veil. His presence, along with Caradoc’s and Gareth’s, made what she had been tasked with difficult. For if she chose to surrender the relic whilst they were present, she would fail.
She would not perish, but she would fail, and restoring her from Azazel’s clutches might well erase what remained of her mind.
God’s teeth—could he be part of a greater nightmare?
Tossing an elbow over his eyes, he groaned. Nay, he was missing something. He must be. If Chloe’s soul housed darkness, his would recognize it. As his spirit balked each time he confronted Azazel’s minions and stirred each time he crossed their vile path, he would feel darkness within her when he stood at her side.
Though his body had most assuredly awakened, tonight the darkness slumbered.
Lucan squeezed his temple between thumb and middle finger to drown out the noise. For the first time in a great many years, he questioned his ability to succeed in the Almighty’s design. If he could not sift through fact and fiction and separate suspicion from what he recognized as truth, he could not hope to gain her oath. He would
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