Aeromancist (SECOND EDITION): Art of Air (7 Forbidden Arts Book 3) Page 17

  He fell quiet.

  “Lann?”

  “What is it, krasavitsa?”

  “He wanted me to call him. He gave me a number.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Good. I’ll need that number to get answers to a few questions of my own.”

  “I was going to tell you everything when we got home,” she said.

  “I would’ve found out anyway.”

  She didn’t ask how. She was too tired. All she wanted, was to go home. With shock, she realized she hadn’t pictured the castle or her old apartment, but the monastery. She’d never go back there, ever again. She turned her head toward the window, hiding the emotions constricting her chest.

  When they arrived at the castle, Joss and Clelia welcomed them at the door.

  “How’s security?” Lann asked the minute he’d stepped over the threshold.

  Joss frowned. “Good.”

  “Satellites clear?”

  “We run checks on them every hour. There’s no way any of them can be hijacked.”

  Resting his hands on his hips, he hung his head. “Perimeters?”

  He looked so tired, Kat wanted to wrap her arms around him, but he also had that air about him that said he needed to be left in peace until he’d done whatever it was he was doing.

  “Armed. No one can get close without the alarms warning us. What’s this about, Lann?”

  He regarded Clelia and Joss from under his lashes. “We need to talk. Where’s Cain?”

  “He had to leave,” Joss said.

  Lann wiped a hand over his mouth. “We’ll brief him later. Shall we go to the study?”

  “Now?” Clelia said. “You must be tired after the long return flight.” She glanced at Kat. “I’m sure the journey was both physically and emotionally draining.”

  “I slept well in the plane,” Kat said quickly. Lann’s worry took its toll. He needed to share the news of Richardson.

  “Go to bed, krasavitsa,” Lann said to Kat. “I’ll be up shortly.”

  She wanted to hear what Lann had to say. “I’m fine.”

  Lann turned to Joss. “This can’t wait.”

  “I’ll get Maya,” Clelia offered.

  “Let’s go to the library,” Joss said. “There’s a fire going in the fireplace. It’s warmer there.”

  Lann took Kat’s hand and pulled her behind him. Once they were all gathered in the room, he closed the door and led Kat to the sofa.

  “Sit,” he said, pushing her down gently.

  She didn’t feel like sitting when everyone else was standing, but she did as she was told. Lann was commanding her out of concern.

  “We were intercepted by an FBI agent at Katherine’s parents’ house,” Lann said.

  Joss shrugged. “It’s not the first time we’ve got govvies on our asses. Cain will deal with it.”

  “This is different,” Lann said. He gave a brief summary of what Kat had told him.

  Joss didn’t seem so calm any longer. “I’ll speak to Cain. We’ve got to tap Richardson, see who he works with. I want to know who tipped him off.”

  “I want to know who accessed Katherine’s medical records, and if what Richardson said about her scholarship is true,” Lann said, “because if it is…”

  “If it is,” Maya said, “someone knew you’d be fertile with her. Someone knew, and sent her right to you, a pretty little package, all but tied with a bow.”

  Lann believed Richardson? Someone had set them up? Planned it all along? “Who would do something like that?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out,” Joss said.

  Kat looked at Lann. “That means that there’s someone out there who knows more than Eve.”

  If what Richardson claimed was true, if her meeting Lann, and her pregnancy, had been orchestrated, then that someone who knew that Lann wasn’t truly infertile, just maybe knew how to save her.

  Lann gave her an apologetic smile. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

  He was right. There was no guarantee. “We’re still going to look into it, right?”

  “How do we go about it without raising suspicion?” Clelia asked. “If we raise hell, whoever we’re after is going to run or hide.”

  “Richardson gave Katherine a number,” Lann said. “We’ll play his game.”

  Joss crossed his arms. “She’ll call him, and he’ll lead us to his source.”

  “This’ll be hard,” Clelia said to Kat. “Are you up for it?”

  There was no question about it. She nodded.

  “I’ll start by getting a call list for the telephone number he gave Kat,” Maya said.

  “Do it,” Joss said. “Lann, give Cain a report. He’d want to know asap.”

  Maya held her hand out to Kat. “Give me the number.”

  Without thinking, Kat reached down her shirt and withdrew it from her bra. She only registered Lann’s expression after she’d handed the card to Maya.

  “Fine place to hide your enemy’s number,” Maya said with a smirk.

  “I didn’t hide it,” Kat said. “Richardson—” Too late, she realized her mistake.

  “Katherine’s tired,” Lann said. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

  “Can I get you anything?” Clelia asked.

  “I’ve got it, thanks,” Lann said. “I’d like to feed my fiancée now, and then put her to bed.”

  Maya rested her hands on her hips. “What the fuck?”

  “I’m marrying her. She’s mine.” He accentuated the last part, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind as to how much he meant it.

  Clelia hugged Kat and then Lann. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

  Joss slapped Lann on the back. “Get your woman settled. We’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

  Lann took Kat to the kitchen, and pointed at the table. “Sit.”

  “I can do something.”

  The look he shot her made her shut her mouth and sit down.

  Opening the fridge, he asked, “What do you feel like?”

  His tailored pants stretched over his backside as he bent over to inspect the contents.

  “Various parts of your body come to mind,” she said playfully.

  He turned and gave her a heated stare. “We’ll get to that. Food first. You need to eat.”

  Actually, she was hungry. Suddenly her mouth watered. “I’d like some eggs, please.”

  His eyes widened. “No tomato soup?”

  “An omelet. With cheese. And mushrooms. No tomatoes, please.”

  He grinned, banged the fridge door shut, and walked to her. Leaning over her, he tipped her chin for their eyes to meet as he placed a palm over her stomach. “My child is finally accepting.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When the nausea passes, the baby has accepted its fate to be born into this world. When he stops fighting, he lets his mother eat again.” He kissed the top of her head. “I think I can find everything we need.”

  He went back to the fridge and took out the ingredients.

  She watched in silence as he whipped together an omelet, taking care of her in an endearing way. When it was done, he plated the fluffy omelet and placed it in front of her on the table.

  “What about you?” she asked when he took the seat next to her.

  “I ate enough in the plane.” He forked a piece and blew it cold before offering it to her. “I like that you want to eat again,” he said when she took the bite. “I’m looking forward to your cravings.”

  “Cravings?” she asked when she’d swallowed. Mm, that was delicious. “Who says I’ll have any?”

  “You will. This will be an extreme pregnancy, I can tell.” He held another piece to her lips. “Eat.”

  She took the bite he offered. “How can you tell?”

  “If my son is anything like me, he’s going to take it all from you.”

  The pride in his voice as he talked about his son warmed her heart. At last they
were moving in a positive direction.

  He fed her until there wasn’t a morsel left on her plate, and then he made her drink a glass of milk.

  “Calcium,” he explained, as if she didn’t know.

  “For your son?” she teased.

  “For you. My son will take everything he needs. He won’t ask for permission.”

  She was going to make a clever comeback, but he got up and pulled her to her feet. Pointing at the door, he said, “Walk.”

  Excitement set off like fireworks in her stomach. Lann had been sweet, taking care of her by feeding her. From the heated look on his face, he was about to take care of her other needs.

  She walked to the entrance and up the stairs. When she glanced back at him in the hallway, he said, “Keep going.”

  At the door to their room, she turned and leaned on it while he approached with slow, determined steps. The candlelight threw soft shadows over his white shirt. The first three buttons were undone, making her long to draw her hands over the hard muscles of his chest. He watched her from under his eyelashes like a hunter who’d fixed his target. Her heartbeat spiked. It was more than lust, more than anticipation. Her gaze slipped to his hips. The tailored pants did nothing to hide his arousal. She ached to run her fingers along the V cutting to his groin. Her breath caught when he stopped in front of her.

  He placed his palms on the door on either side of her face and brought his mouth close to hers. “Are you undressing me with your eyes, krasavitsa?”

  Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, and he hadn’t even touched her.

  Nudging a knee between her legs, he rubbed his thigh over her sex. “Open the door.”

  Heat gathered between her legs. It was a dance she knew well, a dance he’d taught her. He was so much more skilled than what she was. Lann was a demanding but considerate lover. If she were gone, who would he choose to abate his sexual appetite? Who would replace her as a mother?

  “Katherine.” He cupped her cheek. “Stay with me.”

  In the present, he meant. He deserved her undivided attention. She focused on him, putting everything else out of her mind. She was completely in his power. She basked in his dominant stance, needing him to take control right then. A soft pinch on her nipple made her gasp.

  “I said open the door.” He rubbed away the sting. “Unless you want me to take you in the hallway.”

  To manage, she had to turn in the narrow space between them. He leaned in, trapping her with his weight against the door. He let her feel his erection, making his intentions clear. Her hand trembled as she grabbed the doorknob. It slipped in her sweaty palm. Only after the third try did it finally turn. When the door swung open, she didn’t move. Instinctively, she waited for his command.

  Humming his approval against the shell of her ear, he said, “Good girl. Now, step inside.”

  She took three steps and stopped.

  “All the way,” he said behind her. “Stop by the fire.”

  The room was cozy, thanks to the central heating, but she still welcomed the warmth coming from the flames. She paused in front of the fireplace and turned. He closed the door, and then studied her as if he was deciding what to do with her. She needed to touch him. The wait was torturous.

  He removed his glasses and left them on the table, causing more heat to burn under her skin. Lann’s glasses gave him an academic look and a civilized air. Without them, his handsome features seemed a tad hard. The raw passion in his eyes was overwhelming.

  He moved to her slowly. Instead of touching her, he crossed his arms. “By now you know I’m a possessive man and protective of what’s mine.”

  “You’re jealous,” she exclaimed as the insight hit her. “Of Richardson?” She didn’t find the agent appealing in the least. On the contrary, he’d repulsed her.

  “Maybe.”

  “Then maybe you should remind me to who I belong.”

  He lifted a brow. “Do you need reminding?”

  “Yes,” she said, a little breathless.

  His eyes darkened. “Tell me what you want.”

  She wanted to experience him with all of her senses. She wanted to burn everything he was into her memory. “I want to taste you.”

  Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers. “Too vague. Try again.”

  “I want you to use my mouth.”

  His lips tilted in the corner. “Say it right, krasavitsa, and I may just indulge you.”

  “Fuck my mouth.”

  “That’s better.” He rewarded her with a kiss, trailing his tongue over her bottom lip. When she tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. “Where did you remove Richardson’s business card from?”

  Hoping he’d simply let it go had been wishful thinking. She hesitated, not wanting to aggravate his jealousy. She remembered the scene when he’d caught her dancing with another man only too well.

  “Can’t tell me?” He rubbed a thumb over her lips. “Show me.”

  “It’s not what—”

  “Did I tell you to speak? Show me.”

  She placed a hand on the upper curve of her right breast.

  “I can’t see clearly, Katherine. Are you showing me your shirt pocket or your underwear? Back there in the study, I could swear you’d slipped your hand into your bra.”

  She opened her mouth, but he lifted a finger. “I said, show me. If it’s not the shirt, then take it off.”

  The game he was playing made her tremble with need. She unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor.

  “It’s the underwear then,” he said. “Who slipped the card in there, Katherine?” He was quiet for a moment. “Was it you?”

  Biting her lip, she shook her head.

  “Show me how he slipped it in.”

  Her lips parted. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Come on, Katherine, you’re a clever girl. It’s not difficult to understand.”

  Sighing, she placed her hand between her breasts, and pushed her fingers under the elastic of her bra.

  “Are you sure?” he said, homing in on the action. “It was just like that? A palm on your skin, fingers less than a hairbreadth away from your nipple?” He trailed a path with his finger over the curve. “Like this?”

  She shivered.

  He outlined the lacy edge of her bra, and slipped two fingers underneath the elastic. “Like this?”

  She shook her head. No, it wasn’t like that at all. It wasn’t a caress. It wasn’t hot and searing, melting her on the spot.

  “Then maybe like this.” He dipped a hand under the fabric to cup her breast, and flicked his thumb over the hard tip.

  She shook her head again.

  “No?” His voice was thick with desire, his accent like wine to her senses. “Decide.” He kneaded her breast. “Which was it? Fingers or palm?”

  “None,” she said. “It wasn’t like that. He frightened me.”

  He pulled his hand from her bra. “Why didn’t you call for me?”

  “I didn’t know if he carried a weapon. I was worried about your safety.”

  “My safety?” Something like fury flickered in his eyes. “You will never risk yourself like that again. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “If I’d told you at my parents’ house, what would you have done?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I’d have taken him outside and broken his fingers. If he’d as much as brushed his lips against yours, I’d have cut them off. If he’d said one word to insult you, I’d have cut out his tongue.”

  The frightening thing was that he wasn’t joking. This part wasn’t a game. She was more than aware of what Lann was capable of. “And you’re wondering why I didn’t say anything?”

  Grabbing her face, he dragged her closer for a chaste kiss. “You should’ve said something.”

  “I should’ve.” She averted her eyes. “Was it bad not to?”

  “Very bad,” he said huskily, playing along. “Take off your clothes.”

  She stalled, drawing her hand over his
chest.

  “It wasn’t a request, Katherine.”

  She swallowed. He always knew what she needed. She unclipped the clasp of her bra and let it drop to the floor. She pushed her skirt and her panties over her hips, and kicked the fabric away before toeing off her shoes.

  He took a cushion from the couch and threw it on the floor in front of him. “On your knees, krasavitsa.”

  Holding his gaze, she knelt on the cushion. He undid the buckle of his belt, and pulled it free from the loops in his waistband. The belt hit the rug with a soft clang.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” he said, popping the button on the waistband and pulling down the zipper. “I want you to always remember to who you belong.”

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he brushed his cock over her lips. She wanted to wrap her tongue around the head and seduce him slowly so that she could taste every inch of him, but he had a different idea.

  “Open,” he said with a gruff voice.

  The moment she parted her lips, he speared inside and pumped with fast strokes. She moaned around him, her clit throbbing and swelling with need. He tasted wild. His groans gave her power.

  “Look at me,” he said, cupping her head.

  She lifted her gaze to his.

  “So pretty,” he muttered with a tight jaw before pulling free from her mouth. Taking her elbows, he helped her up, turned her, and bent her over the back of the couch. “Spread your legs for me.”

  The air surrounding them felt thicker as she obeyed, heavy like clouds with unshed rain. A brewing storm lashed around her. Every time they made love, she felt that foreign movement of air stronger than the last.

  When he brushed his thumbs along her slit, she went on tiptoe to chase after the light caress. He teased her clit, massaging in slow circles. Just when she thought she’d go insane from need, the head of his cock nudged her folds. She arched her hips to take more, but he stilled her with a hand on her hip.

  “Who am I?” he asked.

  Her voice was hoarse. “My fiancé.”

  He slipped an inch inside, creating a delicious stretch but too little friction. “Who are you?”

  “Yours.”

  He gave her another inch. “Which parts of you are mine?”

  “Everything.” She moaned. “All of it.”