Killing Me Softly, page 17
And God. She felt more alive right then than she had for a very long time.
Turning to him slowly she met his heated gaze. ‘Daemon?’ Her voice was soft, breathy. ‘I don’t want you to think me a tease, and I’m not saying this because I’ve made up my mind or anything, but can you kiss me? I just need you to kiss me.’
He didn’t say anything, didn’t smile, just shifted to cup her face with both hands and very slowly moved in to kiss her. His lips were warm on hers, tasting first one then the other, tracing the outline with his tongue, gently coaxing them open. The kiss was gentle but firm, hot yet wet, giving and at the same time taking. She felt no fear, only heat and desire and a yearning for more. She opened her mouth to his, inviting him to take more.
He pulled away, the effort of holding back making him tremble. He took a shuddering breath and looked deeply into her eyes. ‘God, kissing you is like an addiction. I don’t ever want to stop.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘Yes I do. If I don’t now, I’ll never be able to. And I’m trying to be saintly.’
She couldn’t help but smile at his words. ‘You and saintly don’t really go together.’
He exhaled. ‘Don’t I know it?’ He ran his finger down the side of her face, across her lips. ‘But I’m trying.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you asked me to give you time and for once in my life I’m going to try to listen to someone else’s needs and not just my own.’
She looked down at her hands. She wanted him, wanted so badly to know what sharing her body with him would be like, but that was a physical wanting. Mentally she wasn’t so certain. How could she be ready for more if she was still so uncertain in her mind?
She gave him an appraising look. ‘I’m surprised you’re okay with that. Don’t all men just want “the sex”?’
He laughed. ‘You make it sound like some kind of disease.’ His laughter died, his expression serious. ‘Please don’t lump me in with your experience of men. Not all of us are like that.’ He smiled again. ‘Some of us are even quite nice.’
‘You’re more than nice.’
He reached out again, gently stroking her face. ‘I really want to make love to you . . . ’ He inhaled, shook his head. ‘But I won’t use your own desire as a weapon against you. Mentally you’re not ready yet. I know that. I understand that.’ He paused again, obviously trying to find the right words. He took her hands, looking into her eyes. ‘You need to know I don’t just want your body. I want all of you, ready and willing and wanting to let yourself go with me. Sharing. That’s what I want with you.’
She swallowed, deeply touched by his understanding. ‘I want that too.’
He nodded. Then smiled sheepishly. ‘Even though I’m giving you time to decide, I was wondering if you wanted to spend some time with me while you decided.’
She opened her mouth, but he stopped her from answering.
‘Not romantic time, just friendly, get-to-know-each-other-better kind of time. We could go horse riding or something.’
‘Just us, or can the others come, too?’
‘Whatever makes you feel comfortable.’
She bit her lip. ‘Maybe we could try just us?’
‘I’d like that.’
Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, not touching, just looking. After what seemed an age, Lexi broke the silence. ‘I better go. I’ve got to get dinner started. I promised Bev.’
‘Off you go.’
She didn’t move. After a while she looked down. ‘I . . . ’ She stopped.
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know how to say goodbye to you.’
He smiled. ‘Usually a kiss on the cheek or a handshake would do for a first date.’
‘This isn’t a date.’ She looked up at him. ‘You’re laughing at me!’ She hit him on the knee. ‘Stop laughing at me.’ He laughed harder and she leant over and smacked him on the chest. ‘Stop that! It’s not funny. I was being serious.’
‘I know.’ He kept laughing.
‘Argh!’ She fisted her hand to whack him again. This time he grabbed her hand, tugged. She lost her balance and fell onto his shoulder.
Lips met lips in a long slow kiss. Finally, he drew away.
She sat back, light-headed and breathless. ‘I’d better go.’
He nodded, swallowed painfully. ‘Good idea.’ His eyes were like fire, burning her with their touch.
She glanced down, saw how aroused he was. Rather than scaring her, it made her feel powerful – that she could do that to him! She smiled. ‘See you later.’
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
Lexi hopped out of the car and walked up the stairs, still smiling.
Billy waited for her at the front door, frowning. Cat stood at his side, staring into the distance.
‘Hi Cat. Hi Billy. Have you had a nice day?’ She gave Cat a kiss.
‘We walked to the dell by the stream. It was a bit muddy and damp after the storm, but Cat seems to like it there.’
‘I knew she would. It’s my favourite place, too. I always find such comfort there. Are you coming inside?’ She opened the door, waiting for him to lead Cat inside.
He sighed, kicked the step and then nodded in the direction of Daemon’s car as it disappeared around the corner towards the Dower House. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’
Lexi pretended not to understand him. ‘What?’
Billy looked at her impatiently – the same look he used to give her when she annoyed him when they were children. ‘You know exactly what. Daemon is much more experienced than you.’
‘Good. He can show me a thing or two, seeing I’m such a baby.’
Billy didn’t flinch at her sarcasm. ‘You know what, Lexi? You can try and push me away, but you can’t stop me from worrying about you.’ He turned sharply to march away when her hand on his arm stopped him.
‘Please don’t go. I’m sorry.’
Billy turned back, sighing heavily. ‘I know you are. You just try my patience sometimes.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘He won’t stay. He can’t.’
‘I know that.’
Billy shook his head. ‘It’s good that you do, but I’m still worried.’
‘I know.’ She gripped his hand. ‘And I appreciate it. But I’m thinking it might be time to put the past behind me. I think Daemon can help me do that. Be happy for me. Please. Even if it’s only fleeting, be happy for me in this moment.’
He looked away, nodded. ‘No way but the hard way for Alexia Jasmine Deningham. You always loved butting your head up against walls until they cracked and fell.’
Lexi laughed. ‘That’s me, all right!’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I am happy for you. Just be careful, okay?’
‘I will. Thank you.’ She kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘I hope one day you can feel happiness again. For so long you’ve been my big brother and best friend and that will never change. I love you. I just wanted you to know.’
‘I know, Lexi. I love you, too.’ Billy grabbed her into a hug. After a long moment he let her go and took Cat’s arm in his. ‘Now come inside. Bev called through. She thought you could do with a little help with dinner.’
She hit him on the arm. ‘I know how to cook!’
‘That’s only because I taught you everything I know.’
‘Yeah, and knowing how to reheat leftovers has really come in handy over the years.’
‘Now you’re just being mean,’ he laughed.
As they led Cat inside and argued over how best to season and cook the meat and what to do with the vegetables, Alexia realised that perhaps Daemon was right. She should try to live for the moment and not worry about the ‘what ifs’. Could that be her new motto? She wasn’t sure. But one thing was certain, if she could find joy in moments like these, it meant Lyndon hadn’t won.
She hadn’t given in the night he attacked her. And she wasn’t going to give in now.
That night, sleep eluded her at first. When she finally succumbed, the nightmares chased her into sleep, claiming her tired mind. Images of Lyndon loomed over her in the darkness, his gaping mouth opened to swallow, to suck the life out of her, denying love, denying her a future. He held her down, his hand over her mouth, his fingers pressing painfully on her chin, crushing her windpipe.
‘It should have been you! It should have been you!’ His voice was a shrill scream in the darkness.
Lexi awoke, gasping, the effort to breathe painful, his words ringing in her ears, the burn of fingermarks on her throat. Fear and the icy touch of wind blowing in through the open window made her shiver.
The room was freezing cold.
The curtain swung and twisted in the wind. She was sure she hadn’t left the window open. Climbing out of bed, she hurried across the room to slam it shut. Grabbing an oversized jumper off the chair in the corner, she pulled it on over her pyjamas, then stood looking out at the night.
A light in the Dower House made her wonder if Daemon was awake, too. The thought brought a smile to her lips. She felt safe knowing he was so close.
She didn’t know how long she’d been staring at the light when the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Something was wrong. She could feel it.
Suddenly the letter she’d received from her stalker came to mind. He had said he knew where she lived. She’d taken comfort in the steps Karl had taken to keep her and Cat safe – but what if they hadn’t been enough? What if he had been in her room? What if he was in the house right now? Her window must have been opened. What if he’d come in through it?
Don’t be ridiculous. He’d have to be a spider to climb up the wall. But he could have got in another way. There were plenty of doors and windows on the ground floor. What if Bev and Karl had forgotten to lock one?
Stop being so paranoid. He couldn’t have been inside. If he had, he would have done something to her. He said he would. Said he would come after her and . . .
Cat!
She ran out of her room and down the hall to Cat’s room, pulling herself up outside the door to listen. All was quiet. She opened the door a crack and peered in. The light from the hall fell over the bed and onto the sleeping form of her sister.
She was fine.
The thumping of her heart a painful beat in her chest, she gently closed the door. No-one was here, yet the uncomfortable feeling persisted. She decided to go downstairs, get herself a hot chocolate. And if she checked all the doors and windows were locked on the way to the kitchen, then that wasn’t paranoid, was it?
Everything was locked tight. Feeling slightly silly, she walked into the kitchen and nearly jumped sky-high as a knock sounded on the back door.
‘Alexia? Is that you?’
‘Daemon!’ she gasped, hand clasped to her chest as if trying to keep her wildly beating heart inside. She hurried over to open the door.
A gust of cold air followed him and she pushed the door closed, trying not to bang it. She turned around and looked at him.
He rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet. ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph it’s cold out there.’
‘What are you doing here?’
He blew on his hands. ‘I saw your light come on and then the ones downstairs and wondered what was going on. I was worried you might not be able to sleep and came over to keep you company.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’ Her smile was slow, warm. ‘But I’m glad you did.’
‘So am I.’ Silence stretched between them as they drank each other in. ‘Nice pyjamas,’ he said with a slow grin.
‘What’s wrong with Bugs Bunny?’
His smile widened. ‘Nothing from where I’m standing. I just never imagined him surrounded by so much pink.’
She laughed and then, released from his gaze, walked over to the fridge and pulled out the milk. ‘I was just getting myself a hot chocolate. Do you want one?’
‘That would be great.’
The look on his face made her laugh. ‘How about I put something strong in yours?’
‘If you’re talking scotch that’d be even better.’ He sat at the table as she poured the milk, stopping her before she got to the second mug. ‘Make mine no milk.’
Her lips twitched. ‘Right.’ Turning, she put her mug in the microwave. ‘The scotch is in the lounge room. Help yourself.’
A few minutes later he was back, a glass of single malt in his hand. ‘You have a great selection in there, Alexia.’
‘Can’t stand the stuff myself, but Billy and Karl like a “wee dram” now and then.’ The microwave dinged and she put four heaped teaspoons of drinking chocolate into the hot milk. Looking up, she saw the incredulous expression on his face. Ignoring him, she added a dollop of honey and sat down opposite him. ‘You couldn’t sleep either?’
He shook his head. ‘Na. I’m not a great sleeper. Never have been. Da used to say I had too many things going on in the old noggin.’ He tapped his head. ‘Today didn’t help. Also, Nigel called earlier to say someone had broken into my house in London.’
‘What?’ She almost dropped her mug, the milk sloshing over the side and onto the table. ‘Was anything stolen? Are you okay?’
He smiled at her, reached for a cloth and wiped up the spilled milk. ‘I’m fine. It’s not the first time. Over-enthusiastic fans, that sort of thing. A few things taken, my music scattered. Nothing major. I don’t keep anything important there. Although Nigel thinks Darla might have been responsible for this break-in.’
‘Why? Why would she do that?’
‘Because whoever did it carved, “Lying Irish Bastard” into my Steinway.’
‘Oh, God. That’s awful. No wonder you couldn’t sleep. Do you want to go back there, take care of things? We could call a halt to the recording for a few days.’
He shrugged, brushed a curl from her brow. ‘It’s fine. The police have been called and Nigel’s on top of it. There’s nothing for me to do.’ He ran a finger over her shoulder, down her arm, tangling his fingers with hers. ‘What about you? Why did you put all the lights on?’
She shrugged, trying to ignore the sensations he was causing with his gentle touch. ‘Jenny’s murder made me feel a bit paranoid, so I came down here to get a hot chocolate and check everything was locked up. It was, of course – Karl always locks up and does a check of the house before he goes to bed.’ She lifted the steaming mug, took a sip.
‘I’m not glad you felt on edge, but I am glad you are up. That you answered my knock. Having company at times like this is better than sitting alone.’
She looked down, sipped her drink. ‘I was going to sit in the lounge room and read a book.’
‘Sounds good.’ He stood up and took her hand. ‘How about I light a fire and we can “canoodle on the couch together”, as Da used to say.’
‘Canoodle?’ Lexi asked, trying not to laugh.
‘You know, cuddle, kiss, snuggle, talk.’
‘That sounds an awful lot like a date.’
‘Call it what you like. I prefer to call it a head start on getting to know each other better. You promised to spend some time with me. I promise, no funny business.’
‘Canoodling sounds like funny business,’ she said, chuckling.
‘Not too funny.’ He stepped forward, his expression serious. ‘You can’t sleep, I can’t sleep. How about we just sit and talk and take comfort in that?’
Oh God! How could she say no? ‘I’ll just get some biscuits to nibble on, but I don’t know about the “canoodling”.’
‘How about we just start with the talk?’
‘Okay.’
He took her hot chocolate, his fingers brushing hers. A familiar spark of excitement raced through her veins and over her skin; by the flare of awareness in his eyes, she could see he had felt it too. She reached up and touched his mouth as it curled into the lopsided grin she’d found so annoyingly charming when they’d first met. ‘Why do I feel so safe with you?’
He kissed the pad of her fingers. ‘It’s the music. You can hear my soul just as I heard yours. You know me.’
‘Yes. I think I do.’
Smiling, his eyes glinting with promise, he walked backward away from her. ‘I’ll go and light that fire.’
‘Yes.’
He disappeared up the hall. She stood there for a moment, wondering why she felt dizzy. She suddenly realised she wasn’t breathing. Inhaling, she rubbed her tingling fingers on her pyjamas and turned to the pantry to get the biscuits.
When she entered the lounge room a few minutes later, flames were licking at the dry kindling. He’d pulled the coffee table closer to the big comfy sofa, placed her hot chocolate and his scotch on it, and stood there now, watching her.
She hesitated.
What was she supposed to do? She had no idea. The only man her age she’d ever been alone with in the past ten years was Billy, and those situations were definitely nothing like this. Was she supposed to walk over to him? Was this a funny quip situation, or was it more serious? Not that it mattered – she couldn’t think of anything to say, let alone something funny or serious. Did he expect her to sit at one end of the couch while he sat at the other? Or were they supposed to sit next to each other?
She hated being uncertain, not knowing what to do, how to act. Was it too late to turn around and head back to the kitchen?
Before she could do just that, he crossed to her, took the plate and then her hand in his and gently led her to the sofa. He placed the plate on the coffee table and, still holding her hand, sat in the corner of the couch and drew her down beside him. He gave her the hot chocolate and picked up his glass of scotch and then putting his arm around her shoulders, relaxed back into the deep cushions, pulling her with him.
She stiffened. He didn’t move, just kept his arm around her, his grip on her shoulder light – if she wanted to move away, she could.
She didn’t want to move away. She clenched her hands in her lap, concentrating on breathing normally; concentrating on not letting the warmth flooding her system colour her skin. He took a sip of his scotch and then began to hum under his breath.
