Forbidden Read online

  She sighed. It didn’t seem fair. No other man in her admittedly limited sexual history had ever made her feel like Owen had. When he’d touched her, it was as though her body had woken up, just for him. James certainly hadn’t made her feel that way, and neither had anyone else. Just Owen. Just your big brother, whispered a little voice in her head.

  But Owen needed what I gave him last night. We both did. It was the only way to bring us together. She paused. We’re not together—not really—though. Not the way the vision wants us to be.

  A sudden image flashed in Leah’s mind. The tortured look on Owen’s face when he’d said, “And this river is so wide and so deep and so damn dangerous that I don’t think I can get us out of it this time. To be honest, I don’t know if I even want to.”

  Maybe she hadn’t given him everything he needed. Maybe he was still hurting, still aching inside. Filled with a hunger that only she could assuage, even though the guilt was eating him up.

  But I can’t. There’s a line we shouldn’t cross, no matter how right it feels. Because things might go further this time. Too far… She sighed. I have to stop thinking about this. I’m driving myself crazy.

  Everything was ready, and Owen wasn’t home, so she covered the chicken to keep it warm and went to sit on the couch. The little blue book of angel legends was still where she’d left it, and she picked it up idly, intending to read over it again—anything to get her mind off the problem at hand. Actually, she’d told a small fib to Professor Dobrev. She had finished reading all the legends. She’d wanted a chance to read a few of them again.

  She didn’t mean to do it, but somehow the book fell open to “Illandra’s Debasement,” and Leah found herself reading it for a second time. It seemed even hotter and more forbidden than it had the first time—maybe because of what had happened between her and Owen the night before. When she came to the end, she found a small footnote she’d missed and read it eagerly.

  Scholars agree that the real tragedy of Illandra was the fact that her mother was mistaken and that, in fact, Aaron was not her half brother at all. However, she is still condemned for the crime of incest because she acted on her desires despite thinking that she and Aaron were related.

  But the chief complaint against Illandra was not her love of her supposed half brother; it was that she allowed him to “fill her with his seed.” Thus, it was the act of ejaculation that sealed her fate and that of her incestuous lover, for at the time the legend was written, ejaculation equated with reproduction. Had Illandra refused to allow this final act of consummation, she and her lover might have been spared the resulting “debasement.”

  “Huh.” Leah closed the book, frowning. The footnote had given her an idea. It was certainly not an idea she would have acted on, or even had before last night. But now… She closed her eyes, thinking hard…

  And suddenly found herself back in the arms of her angel lover in the huge marble palace.

  “Oh, beloved.” He held her tight, as though he never wanted to let her go, and Leah felt warm and protected in his arms. Once again she was aware of the fact that he was inside her, that they were making love, but it didn’t bother her as much as it had in the previous dream.

  “Why am I here?” she asked, looking up into his face, which was Owen’s and yet not. “Are you trying to tell me I’m on the right track?”

  “You’re here because I miss you.” He leaned down to brush his lips to hers. “Because I long to hold you in my arms again, to love you again as we’re doing now. I need you so much, beloved.”

  “You’re talking about Owen,” she said. “You’re saying he needs me. That he needs to do…what we’re doing now.”

  “Yes.” The word was little more than a whisper in her ear, because the lovely vision was already fading. “But he will never take what he needs for himself. You must give it to him—give yourself to him fully, Ariel…”

  “Ariel? Who’s Ariel?” she demanded. But the dream was already gone.

  Leah blinked and opened her eyes. The living room of Owen’s loft looked stiff and flat after the glory of the golden vision. And the vision—whether it really was a vision or just a message from her subconscious—had come to her with a significance she felt she could no longer deny. She and Owen needed to be together in a much more physical sense than they had been yet. Even if it hurt him at first, it would help him in the end—would help both of them. Of that, Leah was now absolutely certain.

  There still have to be limits, though. We have to draw the line somewhere.

  But now, Leah thought, she knew exactly where it had to be drawn. Leaving the book on the couch, she went to change.

  * * *

  Owen sucked in his breath when she met him at the door. “Leah?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Hi.” She smiled at him warmly. “I’m glad you’re home. I couldn’t keep the chicken warm much longer without it drying out.”

  “Uh, sorry. Things ran late.” He wanted to say more, but his brain didn’t seem to be functioning very well at the moment. In fact, he felt as though it had been completely short-circuited by her appearance.

  Leah’s long golden hair was down around her shoulders, and she was wearing a black baby-doll nightgown. It tied in a little bow between her breasts and then opened to reveal a long stretch of lightly tanned abdomen and the rounded cup of her navel. It ended at her full hips. As if the nightgown weren’t skimpy enough, the material was completely sheer; Owen could clearly see her full breasts and the tight pink nipples he’d sucked the night before through it.

  When he finally managed to tear his gaze away from her breasts, he saw that she had on matching black panties. But again, they were completely sheer. He could see her plump pussy lips and even a hint of her inner folds below the well-groomed thatch of golden curls that decorated her softly curving mound. Her long legs were bare, and her toenails were painted an innocent pink—the only innocent thing about her, apparently.

  Owen felt himself go painfully hard as he looked at her. Leah looked incredibly seductive, and she was clearly dressed for sex. But she just kept talking casually about the dinner she’d made and asking him what kind of wine he wanted with it. He tried to answer normally, but his mouth and brain didn’t want to cooperate. He allowed Leah to lead him to the table, sit him down, and even serve him a plate, but he found he had no appetite at all—not for food, anyway.

  “That’s, uh, some outfit you have on,” he said at last, deciding he needed to meet the situation head-on.

  She blushed and smiled. “You’re out of T-shirts. I need to do the wash. And this was the only nightgown I packed.”

  Owen frowned at her, saying nothing.

  She looked down at her plate, aimlessly pushing a bit of food around with her fork. “Do…do you like it?”

  “Like it? God, Leah, how can you ask me that?”

  “Because I have to know.” She looked up at him earnestly. “I was thinking, Owen. About…about last night and this morning too. And I felt like… I thought maybe we hadn’t finished working through our issues.”

  He scowled. “What would make you say that?”

  “The way you looked at me,” she said softly. “The way you’re looking at me right now.”

  “I’m not—” But there was no use denying it, especially when his gaze wouldn’t leave her breasts. “Damn it, Leah. If you dress like that, there’s no way I can help looking at you.”

  “That’s good,” she murmured. “Because I don’t want you to help it.”

  “You should,” he said fiercely. “Leah, we can’t do this again.”

  “Why not?” she asked challengingly. Then she got up and walked around the table to stand next to him. “You need me, Owen,” she said softly. “And I…I need you too.”

  “Just because I need you—want you—doesn’t mean you have to give yourself to me. Especially not like this. For God’s sake, Leah, you’re my little sister.”

  “Your little sister who loves you.” She rested her hand