Sea Haven 02 - Spirit Bound

For the first time her fear subsided completely and serenity surrounded him. He loved the way her spirit was so strong, encompassing everything in its path. Sometimes—like now—it felt as if she enfolded him in a blanket of peace.
    Her expression changed and she dropped the sheet abruptly. “Come on. Neither of us is asleep. We may as well have some tea.” She scooted out from under the covers, fully expecting him to give way, allowing her to leave the bed.
    He couldn’t move. Not when she was dressed in a flimsy, nearly nonexistent lacy tee and small boy shorts that hugged her hips, emphasizing her curves. He didn’t budge, his much larger frame solidly blocking her way. Because she had scooted forward, her body had slipped practically under his. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her, forcing her to lean back. Her dark eyes went wide with shock, with helpless hunger, desire spilling into her expression. Her generous mouth beckoned him, lips parted, small tongue licking delicately over her lower lip.
    He took her up on the offer, such as it was, half hesitant, half helpless. His mouth took hers with relentless demand. Once he touched her, once his tongue sank into velvet heat, he was lost. He gave himself up to the sheer pleasure of kissing her. One arm curved around her waist and he simply lifted her more closely under his body. For one moment, she kissed him back, pouring herself into him, a liquid fire filling his veins, rushing straight to his groin and pooling there in a heated, urgent need.
    Judith pulled away, resting her head against the mattress, her eyes searching his. “If we go any further, you know what will happen, Stefan . . .”
    He pressed his hand to her mouth. “You’re going to have to call me Thomas for now. If Ivanov ever suspects that I’ve told you the truth, he’ll use you to get to me, and believe me, moi padshii angel , it would work.”
    “Thomas then. See, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to think of that, not calling you by your given name. No matter what I call you, I have to be certain. I don’t trust myself when you’re this close to me.”
    “I’d be a fool to let you slip away, Judith.”
    “Please let me up. I have to be certain. I can’t make another mistake. You have to admit this is happening way too fast. Doesn’t that bother you?”
    Stefan shook his head, his belly knotting tight. She was flight ready. She wanted him, but she didn’t trust herself. She hadn’t trusted herself since she’d made a mistake with Jean-Claude La Roux. It seemed to always circle back to that man. He should have broken his neck and been done with it.
    He forced his tense body to ease back and give her room, even when everything in him urged him to hold her tight. “When a man has gone his entire life and never felt an overwhelming natural need—a hunger—to be with a woman, believe me, honey, he doesn’t care that it’s happening too fast. He’s just grateful. I thought I was incapable of real physical attraction, let alone real emotion.”
    Judith gingerly eased into a sitting position as he gave way. Stefan stood with a small sigh and took her hand to tug her to her feet.
    “You don’t know if it’s real, Thomas. Not when you’re living a lie.”
    “My life isn’t real, Judith. It hasn’t been real since I was taken from my family. Funny, I blocked my childhood out, both good and bad, but since I met you, I can remember the way my mother smiled and my father playing with us inside the house, away from prying eyes. He was . . . magical. I can also remember how all that bright red blood turned pink and muddy in the snow when the soldiers shot my father and turned on my mother. My oldest brother fought them. They beat him until he couldn’t move, his body lying over my mother’s there in the snow. I could see his eyes, the anger there, but never defeat. Maybe that’s why I survived, my brother’s strength and resolve.”
    Stefan pulled back, shock registering on his face, in his brain. He never allowed those memories to surface. He hadn’t thought about his oldest brother in more than twenty years. It had been easier to let go of all of them. As long as they were vague and shadowy somewhere in his mind, far away where he could believe they were safe and their lives hadn’t been as his had been, he remained sane.
    He didn’t want the compassion he felt surrounding him, or the sympathy in her eyes. He didn’t need those things. They made one