“Do you
have to go?”
The man
once known as Declan O’Reilly looked at the woman cuddled up against his
chest.
As far as
the mortal world was concerned, Declan O’ Reilly and his wife, Tori were
dead. Officially dead, for eight years. They’d changed their names on
a regular basis—if he remembered right, they were on their third new
personas.
Her long,
dark curls were tangled and a light sheen of sweat gleamed on her
flesh. She tipped her head back up at him and said, “I miss you
already. Don’t leave.”
Declan
pressed his lips to Tori’s brow and murmured, “Have to, baby.”
“Then wait
for me. Eli and Sarel will be here soon—tonight. Can’t you wait until
midnight? Dawn at the latest.”
He was
tempted. When Tori got that look in her eyes, it was damn near
impossible to deny her. He did, though. As hard as it was to deny her,
ignoring the burn in his gut was even harder. Declan nuzzled her curls
and whispered, “You know I can’t.” He shook his head. “This can’t wait
any longer. You have to stay here with these kids. They trust you.
They feel safe with you.”
Tori was
silent. He pressed his lips against her temple, lingering there and
savoring the warm, soft scent of her skin. “This shouldn’t take too
long, baby.”
Then he
sat up. Before he climbed out of the bed, he tucked the blankets in
tight around her.
Grumbling,
she closed her eyes and said, “It’s already too long.” Tori didn’t say
anything else. Rolling onto her side, she pushed up on her elbow and
watched as he walked around, picking up the clothes they’d practically
ripped off last night. The bite on his neck had already
healed—shapeshifters healed with a miraculous speed. The faint light
filtering in through the blinds fell across his body, highlighting his
lean, muscled form.
Her heart
beat kicked up a notch. She licked her lips and wondered if she could
coax him back under the sheets for a minute. Longer. She had a bad
feeling in her gut. Tori didn’t want him to leave. But before she
could even push her blankets down, Declan gave her a narrow look.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Tori
arched her brows and asked innocently, “What?” She could feel her fangs
sliding down. Normally she could control it a little better, but Declan
tended to shatter her control. He always had—they’d been married for
ten years. They had known each other for fifteen years.
And he
still had this effect on her. Hunger, love and need swam through
her. Rational thought became a thing of the past. Sliding out of the
bed, she moved toward him but before she could press her naked body
against her husband’s,
Declan reached out and wrapped his hands around her upper arms. He
eased her back and said, “Tori, come on, baby. I have to go.”
The
urgency in his voice broke through the haze of lust that fogged her
brain and Tori let him usher her back to the bed. “You’re no fun.” A
wicked grin curved her lips and she looked at him over her shoulder
before crawling back under the covers. “I’ll think about you when I
take a shower later.”
“Mean
little brat,” he muttered. She rolled onto her side and smiled up at
him. Crouching down by the bed, Declan covered her mouth with his and
kissed her smile away, his mouth rough and demanding. By the time he
pulled away, they were both breathing heavy. “You do that.”
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