Chapter 31
From his office at home, the snowy security camera reception made it impossible for him to see into Genevieve’s bedroom. Simon swore and smacked the computer. There seemed to be some kind of electrical interference in her room. All the others were clear as a bell.
Perhaps there was a problem with the camera or the wiring.
Or maybe she’d found the camera and disconnected it. The idea gave his adrenaline level a quick kick, and for a moment the spike had his heart flying.
No. That couldn’t be it. She’d be searching every other room, and thus far he hadn’t seen her on any of the other cameras. He wasn’t seeing her on this one, either, so perhaps she was outside. She’d been spending more and more time outdoors since finishing Mai’s sculpture.
But the piece he saw her working on in the studio was magnificent, and it was almost finished. The model she hired had worked out very well. He was athletic, and his body was very well proportioned. He should have trusted her judgment. It was a shame they’d have to leave the piece behind. On second thought, he’d arrange to have it picked up and delivered to Florida as soon as they were settled.
He’d left her to her own devices way too much in recent weeks. Since their last personal discussion, he thought he needed to take a step back, but now he needed to insert himself into her life again in preparation for the move.
She would fight him at first, of course. He moved to open the lid of a small packing crate. The pot he’d brought home from work was a new creation from an artist in Mexico. The small bag of white pills tucked in the lid was a special gift to Simon. He’d have to send Roberto a bonus next pay period as a thank-you. Since he’d complained to the man of having trouble sleeping so often, Roberto was more than eager to help him. These would do well to calm Genevieve during their trip.
He tucked the pills back into the pot and set it on the top shelf behind his desk. He glanced at the computer one more time. The interference was still on just the one screen. And of course it would be the one he watched most. He’d need to either check the camera or remove them all in preparation for their departure. It wouldn’t do for the new owners to find them.
He’d have to figure out a way to get Genevieve out of the house to give him time to do that. Perhaps another workshop at the local college would do it. He’d go over tomorrow and see if he could manipulate her into doing a class for a couple of weeks. He’d call the art department chair and suggest it. It would get her out of the house, and he’d have plenty of time to retrieve the cameras.
He sat down at the computer and closed out the program, then reopened it. Simon caught his breath and leaned closer to the screen. He fumbled for the key to enlarge the one square on the computer to full screen. Genevieve was stretched upon the bed, her pale skin flawless. Her breasts were full, the nipples rosy and puckered. Her body was slender, lean and well-toned. His attention snagged the small triangle of light brown hair at the apex of her legs, then moved on to take in her tumbled tangled hair and the bedclothes kicked to the bottom of the bed.
She rolled onto her side, turned her head and looked toward the bathroom. A shadow projected into the room from the doorway. “No,” the word came out a whisper though he was screaming in his head. The man was tall, his shoulders broad and muscular, his sun-streaked blond hair gleaming in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Before he could catch a glimpse of the man’s face the picture flashed to static.
With a bellow of rage, Simon leapt to his feet. The desk chair hit the wall, shaking the shelves above and rocking their contents. He lashed out at the computer monitor, and the flat-screen tumbled off the top of the desk. The cord brought it up short and it bungeed back to hit the bottom of the desk with a loud crack. He punched the desk lamp and it sailed off to the right.
“Nooooooo! That bitch lied to me.” She told him she didn’t get involved with her models, but she had. He had to be the man who posed for the sculpture she was working on now.
He tore at his clothing, and the buttons flew off his expensive silk shirt. He wrestled himself free of the garment. The fabric was hard to tear, but he ripped it to shreds. And with each tear, he screamed, “I’ll kill that bitch. I’ll kill her. I’ll kill them both.” Breathing hard, he threw the last piece across the room.
“I’ll kill her,” he said one last time. But first he’d get his fill of her. Starting tomorrow.
* * *
Genevieve caught her breath as Finn lowered his mouth to her hip, the dip of her waist, and followed the curve of her body to home in on her mouth. His lips and tongue tempted and toyed with hers, reigniting her desire. She wiggled close to align her body with his.
She traced his masculine features with her fingertips, finding them less refined than she had drawn them, but more compelling. The cleft in his chin fascinated her, the full curve of his bottom lip, the scar she’d never noticed beneath one brow. There were other scars visible on his body that had not been there before. The wear and tear upon a warrior’s body during a time when men were trained to use swords and axes and spears and knives in both practice and battle. She traced a long scar on his ribs with a fingertip, and when the muscles in that area contracted, he grabbed her hand.
“Ticklish?”
“Aye, a wee bit.”
It was such a human thing, a wave of tenderness struck her and she kissed him.
He tucked her lower body in against his so his erection rested against the inside of her thigh, warm and taut. She hiked one leg up over his hip, and they nestled in close together, touching intimately, but not joined.
The temptation heightened their desire. Finn brushed his cheek against hers and his lips were warm against the curve of her cheekbone.
“Is making love to a modern woman very much different than before?” she asked.
“Aye, making love with a modern woman is ver’ different. Ye can get out of yer clothes with more ease.” He nuzzled her neck. “And ye smell better, since we didna bathe so oft.” He smiled when she laughed. “Yer skin is softer.” He slid a hand down over her backside. He looked at her, his expression more intent. “But even more, having ye means more than being with any other woman because of the love between us. I do love ye, lass. It started that first night, when ye were so intent on protectin’ yer cat from me, ye stayed close by, even though ye were so scared ye shook with it. The first time ye touched my arm, I thought m’ heart might beat out of m’ chest from the thrill of it.”
Breathless, she continued to stare at him for several moments, overwhelmed by the emotion she read in his face. Her vision blurred with tears. “That was a very good answer. Actually, a fantastic one. Come inside me, Finn.”
He turned so she was beneath him, then reached between them to rub the head of his penis against her. Genevieve tilted her hips, eager to take him in. He was long and thick with arousal, and she felt herself stretching to accommodate him. As he seated himself deep, she caught her breath at the sensation, and bit her lip as pleasure spiraled through her. When he started to move inside her, she climaxed almost instantly.
Finn paused to give her time to recover, a wholly masculine grin of satisfaction tilting his irresistible mouth.
Genevieve pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips and tongues tangled, stoking the fires of need again. She skimmed his cheek with her mouth, then nibbled his earlobe and blew in his ear. He shivered and began to thrust in earnest, sensations building again.
She stroked his back, the muscles working beneath her hands as human and desirable as the rest of him. She couldn’t touch him enough, couldn’t get close enough. She’d opened herself to him long before this moment, and the more she loved him, the more he filled her emptiness. A sweet, powerful wave of fulfillment swept over them both, and she clung to him.
What would they do if he couldn’t stay? If he reverted to being the gargoyle?
They’d love each other anyway. For as long as it took. When Finn raised his head to look down at her, she smoothed his hair back. “I love you, Finn MacLeod, for as long as it takes.”