Faith
“We need to expose you to the mole. Sooner rather than later.”
I see the rage that fills Killian’s face at Fionnella’s words. Since she turned up at the house in Malibu, every word she’s uttered rubs him the wrong way.
He’s nowhere near okay with any of this. Keeping me safe from Galveston is a worry for him, but ultimately it’s not an insurmountable problem for Killian Knight. I know he’d spend every cent of his considerable wealth to fortify me against even a hint of harm if he could. No. He’s doing this so I can find some peace from knowing no other children will suffer at the hands of Paul Galveston. He’s doing it for my sister’s sake.
He rises from the sofa and prowls around the living room. I know how hard it was for him to make the call to Fionnella to say we were on board.
I love him for that. Hell, I love him for everything. Good and bad. But I don’t know if my final secret will break us or not.
And I’m too chicken to find out.
What happened with him in his bathroom back in New York City two nights ago altered things for me. The revelations have allowed me to hope that things might not be so dire after all.
The knowledge that Matt didn’t die because of me and the illicit desire I felt for his brother helped a great deal. But that burden has been replaced with the heavier one of keeping the loss of our baby from Killian.
Despite his contentment that I’m back here in California with him, I see the shadows in his eyes when he watches me.
“The only way to do that is to integrate you—temporarily”—Fionnella adds hastily when Killian whirls around from where he’s standing gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window of his Malibu mansion—“into the agency again. We will do it under the guise of you getting your long-overdue debrief, followed by you taking your official exit protocol tests. We’ll drop a few hints that you two are planning a long absence with destination unknown. The forty-eight hours have passed. Galveston knows by now that you’re not going to pay the money. Hopefully that will light a fire under the mole’s ass.”
“And then what?” Killian bites out, his folded arms bulging with his restlessness.
Fionnella looks around at the vast property that sits on its own wide bluff in Malibu. The nearest property is a quarter of a mile away, and every imaginable measure has been taken throughout the mansion to ensure my safety, with Mitch and Linc managing a staggering team of fierce-looking mercenaries around the clock.
“You’re not exactly sitting ducks in this house, so I doubt he’ll make a move here. If we feed him the information that you’ll be heading overseas soon, he’ll most likely choose then to make his move. But it won’t come to that. We’ve developed a slightly more sophisticated way of placing digital bread crumbs on the agency’s system. We’ll find whoever it is before the information gets to Galveston, son. Trust me.”
Killian’s tension doesn’t ease even a fraction. I rise from the sofa and walk over to slide my arms around his waist. He immediately pulls me closer, brushing his lips over my cheek and then the corner of my mouth. My reassuring smile pulls a deep exhale from him before he redirects his attention to Fionnella.
“When does all this bullshit start?” he asks.
Fionnella smiles and swipes a finger across an ancient-looking tablet. “Tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. You have an appointment with one of our specialists. You’ll be there for a few hours. A car will pick you up at—”
“No, I’ll bring her myself,” he says.
The older woman’s lips purse, but then she wisely nods. She’s gotten what she wants, and she knows not to push the issue. “Okay.”
Fionnella slants a glance at me. One I hold for a second before I let my gaze slide away. I’m not ready to answer the questions she’s silently shouting at me.
We walk her to the door, and she gives us another blinding smile before she walks out and climbs into the SUV that looks like it can withstand a nuclear bomb.
Killian doesn’t hold back when he slams the door behind her. “I don’t like this,” he breathes against my neck.
“I know.”
“The variables are too many. I hate gambling your safety on possibles and maybes. It’s ten kinds of fucked up.”
“Yes.”
“Stop trying to humor me.”
“Okay.”
We stay like that for a minute. Until his hands tighten convulsively on my waist. “Fuck, I want to throw you into the chopper and head for Van Nuys right now. We could be in the fucking Amazon jungle by morning. Or a cave in Iceland. Let me buy you a cave in Iceland? You won’t need any clothes. I’d drape you in bearskin rugs to keep you warm, but you’ll be naked underneath. Naked, and all mine,” he croons against my ear.
A decadent shiver runs through me. “I’ll think about it. But after we do this. Okay?”
“Dammit. I can’t deny you anything. You know that.”
I drag my fingers across his tense torso, reveling in the shiver that ripples through him. “I think I’ll go for a swim. Join me?”
I’m trying to take his mind off tomorrow, and he knows it. “That depends.”
I peer at him through my bangs and blink innocently. “On?”
“Indoor pool or outside?” he asks with a definite husk to his voice.
“You choose.”
Fierce blue eyes scour my face, my breasts, my legs. “Indoors. Meet you there in five minutes?”
I nod. He takes a few extra moments to release me. I strut away with a sexy sway I perfected for the Punishment Club, knowing his attention is riveted to my body. I’m not proud of myself. For the last two days, I’ve relied on sex to delay the inevitable and to cope with what’s happening. Sex with an edge of desperation on my part, and of worry on his part, sure, but sublime, heart-wrenching sex nevertheless.
I walk through the stupidly large, marble-floored living room, my gaze sweeping over the incredible views of the ocean.
The first time I saw the spectacular mansion, I jokingly called it his Iron Man house. Killian’s boyish grin told me that was the exact reaction he’d wanted. Turns out Tony Stark is secretly my genius lover’s favorite comic hero. Go figure.
I hurry along a wide, glass-bordered hallway into the massive master bedroom. The California king is rumpled from our activities before, and with Debbie, Killian’s housekeeper, having been given the day off, it’s going to stay that way till tomorrow. I smile as I pick up his discarded T-shirt from the floor on the way to the dressing room, that little act of taking care of him lifting my heart.
The bigger, baser act of really taking care of him leaves me a little breathless as I tug my short sundress off and head for my lingerie drawer. The swimsuit is part of the closet of clothes I left here four years ago. My heart tumbles over again at the thought that Killian really has kept everything I left behind.
I select the blue bikini because it reminds me of Killian’s eyes. And also because it’s super-skimpy to the point of indecent. The first time I wore it, he made me promise to only use it for our private, indoor pool.
I secure the strings, slip my feet into six-inch red-soled platform shoes, and catch my hair up in a loose bun. The shoes are impractical as fuck, but what the hell. After a light application of gloss, I leave the room. I smile as I head for the pool, and then I realize…I’m happy.
I stumble to a stop, and slide a shaky hand over the pulse racing at my throat. God.
What kind of person am I? Using sex to cover my sins and daring to be happy about it. We’ll burn for this.
Those were my words to Killian two days ago, but no. My lover is above guilt. Whereas my hands are soaked in guilt and blood.
“Your five minutes are up.”
I jump at the voice transmitted into the room from hidden speakers. I drop my hand, swallow the angst raging inside me, and walk out of the room. Another curved corridor with even more fabulous views takes me to the stairs that lead down one level to the blue-tiled pool.
He’s reclining on a lounger with his arms tucked behind his head. But I’m not fooled by his relaxed stance. I feel his tension from across the room, and when he turns his head a moment later, I’m seared by razor-sharp hunger. His gaze moves lower. And he jerks upright.
“Fucking Christ.” His chest expands and contracts rapidly, and were I not confident of his prowess, I’d fear he was about to have a heart attack.
I walk over to stand before him and let my own gaze drift over the wide expanse of his bare shoulders and torso. “Hi.”
When his gaze falls to my legs and his eyes turn molten, I don’t fight the illicit thrill that worms its way through me.
“What the fuck are you trying to do to me?” he croaks.
I give him a little smile even though I want to smile wide, tell him I love him. I can’t yet, not until he knows everything. “Is one of those for me?” I nod at the two drinks sitting on the table next to his lounger.
His hand shakes as he picks up one cocktail and hands it to me. I provocatively wrap my lips around the straw and suck, reveling in the sharp hiss it draws from him.
After a long swallow, I place the glass on the table and carefully step out of my heels. “I’m going to cool off. Are you coming?”
He swears again as vivid color slashes his cheeks. “Go. I’ll watch.”
I nod and swivel on the balls of my feet. I feel his scrutiny on every inch of my body as I walk to the shallow steps leading into the pool. I swim with my head above water, and my unhurried butterfly strokes take me from one end of the pool to the other. I sigh at the heavenly sensation of the silky, warm water on my body.
Halfway through my second lap, Killian rises and prowls to the edge of the pool. He’s making no effort to hide the huge erection in his shorts, and the ever-pervading hunger between my legs flares to life. By the time I complete the third lap, he’s sitting on the first step, his legs half-submerged in the pool.
“Enough, baby. Come here.”
I swim over to him, dropping into all fours when I reach the bottom step. The water laps against my breasts. His gaze heats up fiercer, and he swallows hard.
“Closer. Please.”
I move higher, until my upper body is out of the water and I’m between his parted knees. “Release your hair,” he commands roughly.
When I comply, he reaches forward and tunnels his fingers through my hair. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The most precious thing in my life. Tell me you know that?”
My heart shakes with the depth of what I feel for this man. Everything inside me wants to scream it. “Oh, Killian.”
His trembling hand moves over my neck, my collarbone, my breasts. “God, I need you. So much.”
“Tell me what you want,” I offer.
His eyes darken dramatically. “Everything.”
I nod, even though I know he means more than my body, and I know I can’t give him that. Not just yet. I lean closer until I can place my mouth against his. He deepens the kiss immediately, his ingrained need for control threatening to take over. He growls when I pull away but groans when my lips trail over his neck. Then lower down his torso.
Breathing heavily, he watches me as I nip and lick my way down to the edge of his shorts. He leans back on powerful arms and raises his body. I yank at his clothing, and his cock springs free. Hot and thick and heavy, it drives the need to tease from my body. With a moan of desire torn from my soul, I wrap a fist around him and draw him deep into my mouth.
“Yes! That’s it, baby. You have the power. Take it. Take it all. I’ll go wherever you lead me. Anywhere. Anytime.”
The things he says. Tears that lately seem to hover just below my surface spring into my eyes.
His thumb gently brushes my cheek as a tear slips free. “I’m yours, Faith.”
Emotion moves through me as I take him deeper into my mouth, letting my actions show him I’m his too. I draw on every past experience to drive him out of his mind, not stopping when he frantically tears at my bikini top and pulls apart the strings holding my panties. The second I’m naked, he enters the pool and takes up position behind me. Between one breath and the other, he slams deep inside me. My scream echoes over the water, before bouncing back into us.
“God, I love hearing you scream for me.”
He slams harder, and my throat sears with my louder scream. Killian fucks me with ferocious purpose, driving the message home about how much I mean to him. And I take it all, heart, body, mind, and soul. Tears spill freely from my eyes. And I’m at the point of throwing in the towel and taking the selfish way out—of confessing love before confessing guilt—when he rears up suddenly and shackles me in his arms until I almost can’t breathe. Can’t move. He throbs inside me, his cock beating as fast as his heart. “Promise me one thing. Please. Faith. Just one promise.”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“That you won’t use what’s happening to leave me.”
Shock drenches me. “Killian—”
“I’ll never ask for anything else. Just tell me you’ll never leave me again.”
My heart shrivels a little because I know whether I stay or go may be out of my hands. So I give him the promise I can. “I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.”
The brutal shudder that wracks him is the start of his intense release. I’m right there along with him. He croons beautiful words in my ear, worshipping me with his body as I succumb to my own bliss.
We spend the rest of the day wrapped in each other. As I fight the sleep that inevitably takes me, I make my own silent promise. That I will fight to stay by his side if I have to.