Forbidden Page 43


Jackson’s house was updated and cozy, with plenty of room. It was definitely the better choice as they put Jackson in his room to sleep it off and left Asikri in the living room. Kasimir had remained behind to clean up the mess at the house and to finish seeing to getting its valuables packed up before abandoning it, which was what they had been doing since the initial attack on the house.

Felicity had taken off, as had the remaining guests.

So, as Ram closed her bedroom door, closed them into what felt like such a very small space for someone so big, he turned to look at her and there was nothing left for her to do but meet that look head-on.

“I won’t do it,” she said, a stubborn jut to her chin as she folded her arms over her chest. “I won’t apologize for what I did. I— I know it was a bad thing … killing people is a bad thing. I know. I know it is.”

She burst into tears, and Ram was instantly beside her, sitting next to her and drawing her face against his hand, making her look up into his eyes.

“When did I say I was angry with you for what you did?” he asked her. “When did I say I was appalled?”

“I … used Templar power to … and you are Politic … and …”

“You were not watching carefully,” he scolded her, “when Menes used his repulsion power? Come. Come with me.”

He pulled her to his side, walked her around to the window. Once the curtains were open, he took a deep breath.

“Watch the sky. See the clear stars?”

But even as she nodded, dark, roiling clouds began to form so fast that it was breathtaking and a little frightening. Suddenly there was a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and struck a distant tree, shearing it in half.

“We all have ability of some kind,” he said, turning her into his arms so he could whisper it into her hair. “I can throw lightning, though better outside. I would have done so momentarily, had you not managed the situation yourself. Only I am sure Odjit would have anticipated my power and been prepared to counter it. She did not anticipate yours. Because she did not want you to be as powerful as she was, because her ego could not cope with it, she woefully underestimated you. She underestimated the importance of the human mortal she threw away without thought or care when she first arrived. How funny that she prepared for everything else so carefully … except for what she came for. In a way, she was trying to bottle lightning, to use it for herself later on. She was so sure you would go with her.”

“I would rather have eaten toads,” Docia said darkly, feeling the urge to spit at the very thought of both actions. “She’s dead now. I’m free of her.”

Ram let her enjoy the idea. He wouldn’t stir the pot by reminding her there were worse things than Odjit out there. He would let her savor her victory for a little while, just as she deserved.

Docia was feeling more comforted than victorious, though, pulled into his arms as she was. It made her realize just how much she had come to trust him, just how much trust she had invested in him.

“We’re going to have to bring Menes to a safer place,” he said, rattling her comfort a little by reminding her of what had happened to Jackson. Menes. Good freaking God, as if he didn’t already think he was all-knowing and in charge of everything … now he really would be!

“I understand. And I agree. If I didn’t know they were regrouping and badly damaged, I would be afraid of the Templars finding us here.”

“I agree. But for one day … while the sun is up, there is little danger.” He reached up to slide a bit of her hair through his fingers. One of the longer bits. For the first time, she felt self-conscious. She wanted to hide her crooked hair and battered head. He was such a walking hunk of gorgeousness, no matter what he did. It was hard to imagine she could live up to that. Even if she did have a new injection of confidence, what with the Templar woman inside her who was strong and forthright in spirit, a direct contradiction to her shyer, more defensive approach.

“Look, about one-day …” As in a one-night … er … a one-day stand. Oh, it hadn’t felt like that was what it was going to be. It had been the most astounding experience of her life. But … her perspective on the matter was not necessarily his. “About last … uh …”

He started to smile at her but kindly made an effort not to laugh, although it was dancing in his haloed eyes. He reached out to put both hands under her arms, the movement sudden and embracing, his large hands gripping her around her rib cage and suddenly lifting her off the floor until she was well above eye level, forced to look down into his eyes.

“Listen to me, my little Templar. The gods have delivered you unto me. You are the greatest gift that man and the universe could create. You are mine, my precious, precious heart. There is a stroke of destiny here, and I am not fool enough to laugh in its face. Nor would I want to. Why would I want to? Why would I ever want to?”

“Umm … well …” She thought about it as if it weren’t a rhetorical question. “I kinda think I snore at night. And … well … I wear pink doggy slippers when my feet are cold, so … what I’m trying to say is I’m not exactly what you’d call sexy. You look like the kind of guy who’d like sexy.”

“Do I? Because I could swear I extolled the virtues of cute already. I like your cuteness. Yes, you do snore a little, and I find it adorable. But as to not being sexy, I must disagree with your assessment of yourself.” He let her down just a little, so she was close enough to touch foreheads with him. “Mainly because to me you reek of sex,” he said. “Every time I touch you, it’s an effort to not grow instantly hard for you.”

She gasped in a little breath, her face warming. And here she’d thought it was just her. She’d thought she was suffering from some kind of weirdo lusty thing that’d have her staring at him longingly from afar … and looking in his windows … or maybe stealing items from his trash so she could, like, hug his boxes of Cheerios with affection, knowing he’d just touched them.

But this was a much better idea.

“So … you …” She trailed off. She didn’t know what to say next.

“Love you? No. It is beyond love, if such a thing is possible, Docia. It has to be. Two souls inside me. Two souls inside you. All connected. All knowing at their very core that we belong together.”

“But it’s only been …”

“A day? Two? Do you think it can get any better than this? If it does, then I will be paralyzed with delight. I will be useless to Menes and the body Politic because I will not be able to tear myself free of you.”

Docia melted, his words were so beautiful. So exactly what she needed to hear. What she had never come close to hearing in her lifetime. And it didn’t take any effort at all to believe him. She felt no fear when she chose to accept his claims. She didn’t doubt him for a single second longer.

“Why do I believe you so utterly?” she wondered as she felt herself pouring into the liquid gold of his eyes. “My God, you sure know how to charm a girl.”

“Not any girl. This girl. This beautiful, perfect girl.” He dropped her onto his lips, searing her with a kiss that made her head spin. “You are mine now. Forever. This life and the next. And the next. And the next. Tell me you feel that, Docia. Tell me when you look into our futures, you see we will endure just as Menes and Hatshepsut have done.” He kissed her again, making a believer out of her with the fire of his lips and tongue and the way he seemed to push his souls into hers. And funnily enough, she felt there was plenty more room inside of her for that.

“You might get tired of me, you know. I’m … uh … messy. And overall I’m kinda boring.”

“Oh?” he said, walking across the room with her until her feet touched the mattress. “It is fortunate I have a housekeeper, then. And Vincent likes a great many sports.”

“I like my Xbox,” she offered helpfully.

“SEAL Team Six?” he countered.

“Well, duh!”

“Then I don’t see a problem,” he said with a chuckle.

“You’re not going to make me exercise, are you? Cuz outside of a nice walk, I’m very clumsy. And even then … bam! Fell off a bridge!” She smacked her hands together to emulate the sound.

“I think I have a sport in mind that you have already proven an excellent aptitude for,” he said as he laid her down across the bed, covering her body as he went.

“Oh. Really? A-aptitude?” She stuttered the last word because he had touched his open mouth to the pulse on the right side of her neck, causing a powerful wiggly sensation to travel throughout her body, weakening her knees and destroying all cognitive function. “B-because I’m really usually very awkward.”

He stopped making love to her neck to look hard into her eyes.

“Is this what you do? Point out all of your flaws, real or imagined?”

“W-well … I am not the one who pointed them out first,” she said meekly. “I’m just repeating what … what I’ve been told.”

“You have not been told these things by me,” he said with dark vehemence. “And that is all that matters, Docia. I am all that matters from this day forward.”

“You are?”

“I am.” And then there was the slightest flicker, the slightest touch of what she always felt when something seemed too good to be true. “Don’t you want me, Docia?”

It made her smile for some reason, to see this touch of vulnerability in him.

“Do you snore?” she asked.

“Not that I’m aware—”

“Well, do you leave the top off the toothpaste? Or track mud in the house?”

“I don’t—”

“Ram, I need a flaw. Just one tiny little flaw. Because if you’re too perfect, it’s going to be way too much for me to live up to.” She said it straight, trying to keep from smiling as he took a minute to honestly think of something and looking a little desperate when he came up empty. Not that she was trying to make him squirm, but it was endearing to see how hard he wanted to please her.

“Vincent can be quite obnoxious,” he said suddenly, as if he’d come across a huge diamond, a grin exploding over his features.

“This is very true,” she agreed with a grave nod of her head. “I suppose that’s good enough.”

He grew quickly irate, his handsome face going dark with it. He shook her by shaking the mattress around her. A combination of a shake and a bounce.

“It is going to have to be good enough,” he told her sharply. “I will not allow you to be unsatisfied. I won’t let you leave under any circumstances. It’s unacceptable.” He gave her another shake, and she couldn’t help giggling by that point. “This isn’t funny, Docia. Tell me you understand what I’m saying.”

“Ram,” she said, reaching to wrap her hands around his head, framing his sun-kissed beauty. She found that so amusing, that he maintained the appearance of living a life constantly under the touch of the sun when he could do anything but. “I’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. I’m all in. Pour cement in my shoes and stick me to the floor. I’m not going anywhere,” she said more plainly. “I’ve got everything I need right here and no desire to look any farther. I know exactly how special this is. How lucky I am. I’m not going to throw it away anytime soon. I … I trust you.”

What she meant was that she trusted him to be a man of his word. She trusted him enough to put her souls and her heart in his hands.

She had only a second to draw breath before he was covering her mouth and kissing her hard enough to rock both of her souls. It was, for all intents and purposes, a branding. Just in case words meant little or nothing, this would mean everything. It was their souls that had spoken together long before their minds had grasped just how deep their connection went, and he was going to appeal to that the best way he knew how. By the time he let her catch her breath, her whole body was weak and scorched, thoroughly laid siege to, all of her remaining walls crumbling.

Because when it came down to it, there was so very little their minds or their insecure psyches had to do with any of it. All damages and problems born of the past melted away as they wrapped their arms and legs around each other, pressed themselves together as if they craved nothing more than to become the perfect whole they were meant to be. The feeling was incomparable, indescribable. Docia felt tears drawing up into her eyes, but there was no sadness attached to them, only the human limitations of a mind unable to contain the vastness of what she was feeling.

And among all of it was that fiery burn, that sensation of being scorched earth desperately in need of the rain he could drop onto her. Oh, but he had already shown her that he was a master of thunder and of lightning. And he would show her again, she knew, as he began to strip her down to her bare skin, all the while unable to stop worshipping her skin, mouth, skin, and mouth over and over again, trading between the two so quickly and fiercely, as if he couldn’t decide how best to spend his time … as if the two souls inside him were at war as to which made them feel the most. Or perhaps which they thought made her feel the most.

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