Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

wanted, but that was the least of it. He wanted to make love to her. Hard and fast, slow and easy, memorizing every sweet curve and sinful valley. He wanted to know every intimate detail of her body and mind. He wanted to tie her to him any way he could. And he'd tried. First with his magic. Always with his magic.
    He used his voice shamelessly as a weapon because he knew that sound was the key to Joley. He understood, in ways she still barely perceived, that they were locked in a battle for life. And he wasn't about to lose.
    The roar of the crowd swelled, building until the noise was deafening. Bright lights flashed, and Joley moved across the stage, in and out of the lights, almost as if she were making love to the shadows. Nothing in Ilya's barren existence, all the training given to him, all the hard-won experience - none of it - had prepared him for Joley.
    Her voice had seduced him first. That perfect pitch that slid into his body, past every defense, and stroked and caressed until every nerve ending was on fire. Then he'd seen her, all soft inviting curves, full rounded breasts, small tucked-in waist and flared hips built to cradle a man. Her skin was flawless, looking so soft it was an invitation to touch. But her face, those classic lines, large dark eyes and full pouting mouth - he hadn't been able to drag his gaze from her the first time he'd seen her. His breath nearly strangled in his lungs and his body had turned harder than a rock. He'd been that way ever since.
    More than all of that, her fierce spirit had drawn him like a moth to flame, all fire and passion, a woman in need of protection who thought she could take care of not only herself, but everyone around her. He saw how vulnerable she was. He saw inside of her, to that place she kept hidden, where she thought no one could love who she really was. If there was such a thing as love, if there was truly that emotion, then he loved her, damn it, with every breath in his body.
    He'd never been in a relationship, let alone a family, and the Drake family was as alien to him as trust. Joley came from such a different background - hell, she'd managed to get under his skin, make him forget the discipline that was his life, and worse, she shook his control. He needed to be in control. Needed it. She had no idea of what a little stick of dynamite like her could do to a man, especially a man as dangerous and as lethal as he knew himself to be.
    Ilya's body tensed as a man suddenly detached himself from the crowd and rushed the stage. Joley didn't miss a beat as security swarmed around the man, stopping him before he could climb up onstage. Ilya had already moved, a big man, fast on his feet, utterly silent, ready to protect her with his life. He took a breath and resumed his place against the wall where he could monitor the rows closest to the stage.
    Joley had been raised in a loving environment. She had a large family with a lot of siblings, and parents who adored their children. Ilya had no idea what a family was like. If he had parents, he sure had no memory of them, and he only had vague memories of his older brothers. He was different and he would always be different. His training had shaped him. Trained to be a spy, an assassin, to work in the shadows and endure whatever hardship was needed in order to get the job done, he had been raised in a cruel, violent environment and had no idea how to live any other way. He'd never thought of living any other way, until he'd met Joley Drake.
    Ilya spotted a man in the third row who had a look of rapture on his face as he stared up at Joley. Sweat beaded on the man's forehead and he was breathing fast. Ilya shook his head. She had half the men in the audience so tied up in knots it would be a wonder if there wasn't a riot. She was using her voice shamelessly, maybe unintentionally, but it had to stop.
    He reached out to her. A slow, deliberate caress that slid like so much velvet down her arm to her palm, to the brand that marked her as his. He felt the first flutter of awareness, her mind touching his. The startled, stunned effect he always seemed to have on her. He loved that - the way she responded to him in spite of herself. She didn't want to open her mind to his, but she never could quite resist his touch.
    She had power over him, had turned his life upside down, and he was working his way through his anger at that, but each first time he touched her, he knew he had the same power and control over