Awaiting Fate Page 11

  Realization dawned then. He’d nicked her unspoiled, virgin flesh. Fuck. Dread crept up and down his spine, fearing she’d cower away for marking her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “W-what? Did I do something wrong? I know I’m not—”

  Shit. Why would she think that? “No, Liv,” he said gently. “My fault. I…” His eyes went to the nick then met hers. “I didn’t mean to, but I nicked you with my fangs…”

  His voice fell away when she glanced down and spotted the mark, the blood now trailing down toward her stomach. She shocked him when she closed the distance between them, rubbed the blood off with her finger and hesitantly held it up to his mouth, offering it to him. Her expression unsure, but her eyes now seemed to glow, no blue left.

  Assuring her, he sucked the blood off her finger, moaning as he did.

  “We can’t let it go to waste, can we?” she whispered, then hesitantly pressed her lips over his.

  He delved in, not softly, because he couldn’t help it. He loved her, loved that she was sweet, loved that she was smart and beautiful and fought like a warrior. Loved that she hadn’t cringed, loved she’d seemed entranced with the nick he’d made, letting him drink what had spilled.

  One taste wouldn’t tie her to him forever, only a bite would do that, but she tasted like rich wine, taunting him to do just what he longed for, claim her, sealing both their fates forever.

  Thinking all of this, he intensified the kiss. Her nails dug into his back. Lifting her off her feet, her legs reclaimed his waist.

  “Cain…” she moaned breathlessly.

  Everything she did provoked him, but his name on her lips especially made him crave removing her bottom and taking her. He held onto his will with sheer force, but he deepened the kiss, one hand gripping her waist, the other pressing her core against his shaft.

  Her hands roamed down his back, one curving toward his front, then she moaned into his mouth and started trembling, not a little tremble but full-blown shakes.

  Breaking his lips away from hers, he scanned her heated face. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes avoiding his, she pressed her hands between them and pushed at his chest. Reaching out with his gift, he read her, reading her desire, her need, then her embarrassment. For the latter, he didn’t know why.

  Her hands at his chest pushed harder, still unwilling to meet his eyes. His arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, silently telling her he wouldn’t let her go. She didn’t get it or chose to ignore it because the next instant, she pushed harder.

  He then lifted her chin with his finger, meeting her eyes and softly whispered, “Quit fighting me. I’m not letting you go, darling.”

  Her eyes widened and misted.

  “Talk to me.”

  She still shook, so he rubbed his palm up and down her back, encouraging her with actions.

  “I-I can’t.”

  “I know your feelings. Just don’t know why.”

  Her cheeks flamed a brighter shade, proving he’d said the wrong thing. Knowing nothing about how to comfort a woman, he was out of his element, and it showed. Still, because she was his, because he wanted to learn, he tried again.

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  She nodded. “Yes…there is. I don’t know what I’m doing, and…I was…I want you so bad I’m shaking.”

  Smiling, he said, “I’ll teach you. I’ll show you. I won’t push you. I’ll be patient. I promise, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting me because I want you too, Liv, just as bad, if not more.”

  Then he pressed his lips against hers lightly.

  That’s when the phone rang. With their superior senses, they both heard it from the outside, yet neither of them made a move, neither of them spoke. Her eyes on his, his on hers, they were content to let it ring.

  Finally, he spoke. “I don’t want to move, but you should get that. It could be Landon.”

  That jolted her into action. She nodded then pulled away. Reluctantly and with regret, he released her, officially ending the moment.

  He materialized at the end of the pool in search of her top. Finding it, he lifted himself out of the pool and strode to her. She’d already gotten out of the pool and was at the other end, her arms wrapped around her chest, covering her breasts. He handed her the bikini top, and watched as she put it on. He reached for her hand then they strode into her home. She picked up the phone just in time.

  “Olivia.” Cain heard the harshness in Landon’s voice. “What is this about you giving Maria the weekend off?”

  “I don’t need a maid or a sitter, Landon,” she said. “I can cook and clean for myself.”

  “But there were other reasons for—”

  “Yeah, I know, so she could watch me and report back to you.”

  “Can you blame me? I’m worried. You just took off. For what reason?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve never been better, but I don’t need Maria here—at all. I promise to check in every two or three days, okay?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, okay, I’ll let her know.”

  “Landon, I love you, okay?”

  “I love you too, Liv.”

  Cain watched her hang up, sensing guilt gushing off of her. It was hard to ignore despite his attempts to give her privacy.

  He walked toward her and wrapped his arms around her, rubbed her back then feathered a soft kiss on her forehead. “Darling, he’s fine. He has Joce.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll make us some lunch,” he said then kissed her softly on the lips.

  “You’re supposed to be on vacation. I’m only allowing you to be my chef once a day,” she said, smiling. “We should grab a bite somewhere instead. We have to get the car anyway. We left it in Fira, remember?”

  He’d forgotten but nodded in agreement. “I pay,” he said then kissed her again.

  Chapter 16

  Three months ago

  As Olivia waltzed out of the elevator leading to the gymnasium at the demon compound, her pine scent hit him like a freight train.

  A smile spread across his lips.

  Finally, she was there.

  He’d been waiting for her since Lucas told him Jocelyn would be visiting her sisters. That had been three hours ago, but Jocelyn always took that long to get ready even if it was an unplanned visit with her sisters.

  Cain knew Olivia would come because she always came. Whether it was her growing attraction to him or their friendship, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care as long as he got to see her. If she hadn’t come, he would have gone to her. He did it every day—twice a day.

  Catching sight of her, as usual, his heart beat a little faster. She was stunning in a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans and a white shirt that hung off her shoulder and exposed her bare skin.

  “Waiting for me, I see,” she teased, smiling.

  “Always,” he replied, and meant it.

  Words were the only way he could slowly reveal how much he cared. With hints of flirting, he’d been able to reveal truths. His first attempts, he’d admit, were unsuccessful. He soon realized it was all about delivery. If he was too serious when he revealed a fact, she’d flush immediately and cower away. Although he loved watching her cheeks turn rosy pink, he didn’t enjoy making her feel uncomfortable, so he tamped his attempts down for several weeks after his first couple of tries. It wasn’t until he began delivering truths with a smile, as if in jest, that she’d tease him in return, but perhaps it was that they’d become friends since his first failed attempts. She didn’t know he meant it, though he joked as he did with everyone else minus the flirting. That thought troubled him and defeated his true purpose. He wanted her to know, but in time. He had time because she needed it.

  “What are you up to?” she asked.

  “I just told you. I was waiting for you,” he replied, his smile widened, another truth.

  “Besides that, of course,” she said flippantly.

  It stung every time he realized she didn’t believe him.
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br />   He shrugged as if it would make his chest cease aching. “Wanna fight?”

  “Hand to hand or with weapons?”

  Tough choice, he thought sarcastically. “Lady’s choice.”

  She pursed her lips as if in deep thought then blurted, “Hand to hand. Definitely.”

  “Oh yeah?” he said, his heart beating a little faster with just the thought of feeling her skin against his.

  “Yep, if I win, it will be all the more rewarding.”

  He chuckled. “May I ask why?”

  “I know you. If we use swords, you’ll give me the lighter one because I’m a girl and blah, blah, blah, which means it has less power.” She shrugged. “Besides, we dueled with swords last week.”

  “Do you want to change? Jenna and Ash have clothes you can borrow.”

  She lifted a brow. “Are you implying I can’t fight in my current attire?” she asked, a wicked grin on her face.

  Chuckling, he shot back, “Itching for a fight today, huh?”

  A second later, she stood inches from him. She moved so quickly she’d been a blur. Her eyes locked on his, but her fist was a centimeter from his stomach. He grabbed her wrist before it hit him. She twisted her hand from his grasp, spinning around him then attempted to kick his legs from underneath him. He spun and caught her leg.

  “Why are you holding back?” he taunted.

  She sighed, blowing the hair from her face and attacked, swinging her fists and legs quickly, almost desperately. He fought defensively, only preventing her hits from striking him.

  It was how he battled with her, even if they weren’t engaged in a real fight, even if it was just practice to train or to hone skills, he’d never raise a hand against her.

  Olivia swung. He caught her hand and refused to release. She smiled, an obvious taunt, before she flipped over. Her legs swung quickly in front of his face, revealing her flat stomach. He hissed, releasing a breath and her hand simultaneously. Distracted by the brief flash of her skin, she kicked his legs from under him. He materialized before he hit the ground appearing inches from her face.

  “Still holding back, Liv.”

  Olivia hesitated only for seconds, holding his stare as intensely as he held hers. Only then he was lost, lost in her eyes, her flushed cheeks, her full lips and the small puffs of air escaping them.

  He loved watching her in battle or after the battle, but then again he loved watching her period. She fought like a warrior, skillfully, swiftly and with tremendous agility.

  He discovered weeks ago, she was far from the damsel in distress type, far from her princess title, far from needing her brooding brother’s protection or his. His mate could kick ass on her own. From her skills, he assumed she’d been training since she was a child. Although Cain could barely stand to be near her brother, Landon deserved a medal for ensuring Olivia learned to fight expertly. She would never need a man’s protection. She could defend herself although knowing this did little to diminish his need to protect her.

  Lost in her freshly flush face, she kicked his legs from under him again. As he fell backward, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her toward the ground along with him. His back took the brunt of the impact, but it was worth it. She landed on top of him, chest to chest. Her small body pressed firmly against his, every curve, every lean muscle. Her eyes held his as her breathing pitched. He felt her heart pounding against him as quickly as his, quicker than it had during their fight.

  He had yet to release his hold on her. His arm still firmly wrapped around her small waist. As he’d been moments before, he was again captivated by her face, her hair, her body, her scent, her. He wanted to kiss her and knew she wanted his kiss.

  Don’t ruin it, he cautioned. It’s too soon.

  “I think it’s a draw.” He broke the silence.

  Chapter 17

  “I’m ready,” she announced as she strolled into the living room wearing a white linen dress that reached mid-thigh and contrasted against her sun-kissed skin and dark hair.

  Clearing his throat, he then said, “You look amazing, deliciae.”

  “Not so bad yourself,” she replied. Only he could look like a model in a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt.

  He grinned. That glimmer in his eyes now back, twinkled. When he opened his arms, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her body tightly against his. His hands firm on her hips, trailed down to her thighs.

  Heart clamoring, her pulse accelerated. He leaned into her, resting his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled. His breath at her neck, goose bumps erupted throughout her flesh.

  Her skin felt so hot she thought it would combust any second, enough to indicate her eyes were already sparkling with hues of yellow.

  It was useless to deny, food was the farthest thing from her mind. What she desired and needed for sustenance was him, but he held back. She felt it. She just didn’t know why and couldn’t help feeling it was her fault. She couldn’t help but think maybe he feared being disappointed by her inexperience.

  A moment later, they stood in Fira. Hand in hand, they strolled through the tiny, cramped streets surrounded by small white buildings, scoping out restaurants for lunch.

  She pointed toward a restaurant and said, “There, it’s the best Greek cuisine on the island.”

  He nodded.

  Her fingers entwined in his, she pulled his arm and dragged him toward the entrance feeling his presence trailing behind her.

  The restaurant was small and quaint with murals of Grecian landscapes and statues painted on the walls. They were seated near the kitchen at a small table for two. Only a glass separated them from the chef. Cain reached for her hand over the table. His fingers clasped hers. They were warm and soothed her need for his touch.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it if you love it,” he said.

  She covered her cheeks with her hands, attempting to conceal her blush. Amazing how the simplest of words from him could cause that reaction. “The food’s great.”

  “You’ve come here before?”

  She nodded.

  They ordered drinks then their meals, pastitsio for her and souvlaki for him. When their meals arrived a short time later, Olivia could barely touch her pastitsio, a baked pasta dish topped with béchamel sauce. She loved it and usually devoured it instantaneously, but what she craved now hadn’t been on the menu. He sat across from her, tempting her: looking at her intensely, his gaze trailing to her chest, saying sweet words, interlacing his fingers with hers, caressing the skin on her hands.

  She must still be in shock. Who could blame her? The past day and a half had been a whirlwind: his arrival, his behavior, his confession and then his proposal. All she ever wanted, better than she dreamed. Despite the hours they spent basking in the sun, she still couldn’t believe it, so she kept pinching her arm to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. It’d been like one of her self-created fantasies, where she and Cain were together and nothing else existed or mattered much. Yet, today had been so much better than her illusions because her imaginings had been just that, and this was real.

  “Darling, you have to eat.” Cain’s voice drew her away from her thoughts.

  “I’m just not very hungry.”

  “Please, eat or…I won’t take you dancing tonight,” he said, his eyes glimmering.

  “Are you blackmailing me?” she asked, feigning shock.

  He chuckled. “Yep, and if you keep misbehaving I may have to punish you.”

  “Me?” She drew her hand to her chest. “Misbehaving? No way!”

  “Yep, you know all the teasing you’ve been doing…splashing water at me, telling me I stink, among other things,” he said, his gaze shooting down to her chest.

  She flushed immediately and stuffed a fork full of pasta in her mouth. Chewing, she considered what type of punishment he planned to administer, then placed her fork beside her plate, baiting him.

  “Liv,” he said in warning.

  She w
anted to tease him, so she took a chance and said, “Maybe I need to be punished. Maybe I’ll enjoy it.” She should’ve known better. She couldn’t pull off something like that. She was too inexperienced, too naïve in all things relating to men, relationships and especially flirting. Still, because a part of her wanted to pull it off, she said it. Only a split second later proving she couldn’t pull it off, she flushed.

  He didn’t seem to mind. His eyes widened, nearly bulging out of their sockets. Witnessing his reaction, she couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up and spilled from her.

  Reaching for her glass of wine, she took a sip. The wine she gulped was halfway down her throat when he uttered, “Mrs. Thaler.”

  She choked, coughing repeatedly, her eyes roaming the patrons in the restaurant staring at her. Embarrassed, her cheeks heated further.

  He was at her side a split second later, patting her back. “Are you okay?”

  When her coughing subsided, she met his stare. His expression marred with concern, his pulse beating rapidly. “I’m fine,” she said in assurance, wondering why he was so alarmed. As an immortal, it’d take more than choking to kill her. “You know I’m fine.”

  He sat back across from her, but his appearance didn’t return to its usual cheerful air.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His eyes went stark, his voice somber when he said, “Tell me the truth. Do you want to complete the mating with me? Do you want to marry a demon?”

  His words came out in a rush, unveiling his deep-seated fear once again—that he wasn’t like her, a werewolf. It wasn’t the first time.

  Because I’m not a werewolf! The angry words he’d yelled that morning replayed in her mind, a bitter reminder he too had lived too long without his mate and with fear in his heart. She could still clearly hear the roughness in his voice, laced in anguish.

  She felt the warmth of her previous flush dissolve as her chest tightened, but she managed to say, “You are everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve thought about. I never cared that you are a demon. I meant what I said when I agreed to mate and marry you, Cain.”