Darkest Nyte Page 25

  Maybe his people didn’t even have Love Bonds. Maybe he’d cast a spell on her, one that would emulate the effect of a Love Bond.

  But now that Clarissa wanted him again, he wouldn’t need Lucinda anymore. Clarissa was one of his own kind. Obviously, he would choose her.

  Now, he simply had to remove the spell from Lucinda and all would be well again. Nyte and his family would be reunited.

  And Lucinda would forever carry the scar of a romance that was never meant to be.

  She placed her hand on Nyte’s. "I’m glad everything has worked out for the best. Now, if you’ll forgive me, I need some time alone."

  She summoned the last ounce of strength hidden in the furthest caverns of her soul, and used it to fling herself through space, and time.

  * * * *

  Nyte stared at the empty chair where Lucinda had been sitting. She’d caught him totally unaware. He wouldn’t have believed she’d have the strength to teleport anywhere.

  "I don’t think she understands the situation at all," Clarissa said.

  He glared at her. "And that’s largely your fault."

  She shrugged. "Don’t blame me. I only just arrived and that girl looked like she was confused long before I got here."

  Nyte reached out through the ether to sense where Lucinda had gone. The dark curtain of space cloaked her location far too effectively.

  Clarissa rested her hand on his arm. "I really do think you should go after her."

  "I would if I knew where she was," he growled in frustration.

  Her finely arched eyebrows curved upward. "But you’re bonded to her. You must be able to find her."

  "That would be true, if she still existed, which she doesn’t seem to at this moment in time."

  Chapter 22

  Lucinda propelled herself away from Nyte, with no clear idea where she was going. When she rematerialized, she found herself staring at the Eiffel Tower, a glowing, triangular spike in the night sky.

  Paris. City of love. City of dreams.

  The place she’d first met Nyte. Could it be only a week ago?

  She had intentionally shifted in time as well as space. Several months into the past, before she’d received the call to tutor Nyte. This way, Nyte wouldn’t sense her until she shifted back again.

  She stood in front of the same patisserie. A light, misty rain clung to her skin. She pressed her face against the wet glass, peering into the dark interior. No delicious treats were visible inside.

  She pushed away from the window and started to walk along the dark, damp street. A couple hurried past her, laughing and clinging to each other under a black umbrella. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Her low-heeled shoes splashed through puddles, and soon her face was glazed with moisture. It chilled her skin, but she didn’t care. It merely added numbness of body to her numbness of soul.

  She walked endlessly, aimlessly. She had no idea if hours passed, or only moments. If she walked kilometers or only meters.

  Streetlights glowed within hazy halos, their light reflecting on the wet, black pavement. She turned a corner and found herself on the Champs Elysée, people bustling past her. She found a small café on a corner and sat at a table under a canopy. She ordered a café au lait and watched the world pass her by.

  Finally, she dragged herself to her feet and walked again. As the moon rose to a fat, glowing ball of orange in the sky, she walked toward the banks of the Seine. She sank onto a damp, wooden bench, and stared across the water, watching the lights of the Pont au Change ripple across its surface.

  A flash of lightning lit the entire sky, followed by a deafening crash of thunder. Large droplets splashed down around her at an accelerating rate, covering the surface of the river with rippling circles. Gusts of wind sent sheets of rain shimmering past her.

  Further down the walkway, she caught sight of a lone figure stepping out of the mist. She watched as he strolled closer. He wore a long, black overcoat and his water-soaked hair laid flat against his head, swept back from his face.

  He stopped a few feet from her. Droplets of rain traced lines across his face and plastered his dark lashes into a spiky fringe.

  Nyte.

  She pushed a stone along the wet pavement with her toe. "How did you find me?" she asked.

  "I’m getting to know how your mind works."

  She nodded. She knew the comment should bother her, but it didn’t. She didn’t have to worry about Nyte knowing her too well, or trying to control her anymore. He was Clarissa’s problem now.

  "I didn’t feel you coming," she said quietly, her words dissipating in the mists of the night. She pushed her dripping wet hair back from her face.

  "I masked my presence. I didn’t want you to run away again."

  Her eyebrows arched upward. "Are you going to stop me if I try?"

  "No." He leaned against a lamppost, looking like a lost soul searching for the light. "But I will ask that you stay. Or, rather, come somewhere with me."

  He offered his hand. "Somewhere warm. You look cold."

  For the first time, she became aware of the shivers rippling through her. She was cold, but a warm place wouldn’t change that.

  She stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment before she finally sighed and laid her hand in his.

  She had to talk to him, one more time. To allow closure, so they could put this whole thing behind them. And allow him to return to Clarissa with a clear conscience.

  He deserved that. So many years had been stolen from him.

  He helped her to her feet. "Where would you like to go?"

  She shrugged. "My place, I guess."

  She couldn’t stand the thought of returning to his house by the ocean. The memory of their ardent, soul-fulfilling lovemaking was still too fresh in her mind. It would only bring back memories too poignant to endure.

  Nyte swept his arms wide and teleported them. She barely noticed the pull of space and time on her body. Once they materialized in her living room, he swung his arm toward the fireplace and a second later a bright, cheery fire blazed warmly. He wrapped a blanket snugly around her and she realized somewhere along the way he’d dried her clothes and hair.

  The shivers coursed through her constantly now and her teeth chattered. He slid his arm around her waist and guided her to the couch. She sat down and soaked in the warmth of the fire. Her gaze slid to the hearth and she realized she had expected to see Merlin curled up in front of the blaze.

  But, of course, he wasn’t. And he never would be again.

  A spark of pain ignited in the pit of her stomach, and blazed through her like a flash fire. She might not have had a close relationship with Merlin, but he’d always been there for her. He’d kept her company through many long, lonely nights.

  It was too much. Tears, which had been prickling her eyes for hours, finally broke free and streamed down her face. She tipped her head forward with the weight of her loneliness.

  "Lucinda?"

  She felt Nyte’s arms encircle her and, as he drew her against his strong, solid chest, she curled her arms around him and clung, like a lost child seeking solace. Deep, soulful sobs quivered through her.

  "Tell me what’s wrong," he urged.

  "I miss...." She snuffled several times then drew in a deep breath. "I miss my cat," she wailed.

  He drew back to stare at her in amazement. "What? Your cat?"

  She nodded. "I-I miss Merlin." She rested her head against him. "But he never really was my cat. He wasn’t a cat at all. And Rand never really was my mentor." She gazed at him and more tears welled up. "And you...." Her voice broke on a sob.

  His mouth flattened into a grim line. "Wait a minute." Gently, he grasped her upper arms and eased her back. His midnight eyes stared into her. "If you’re saying you and I aren’t really bonded, you’re wrong."

  He tipped up her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. The first light brush of his lips sent her heart quivering. His hands cupped her cheeks as he nibbled her lower
lip, then he mated his mouth firmly with hers. The tip of his tongue trailed the inside of her mouth, sending ripples of pleasure lapping through her. He slid his arms around her and drew her tight against his body.

  She could barely think, but she knew she had to keep control, to fight this irresistible attraction. She stiffened and flattened her hands on his chest. He drew away an inch, no more, and locked gazes with her. The intensity of his coal black eyes staring into hers kept her blood circulating like water in a hot tub. And just as steamy.

  "I don’t know how you can deny our love." He tightened his embrace. "We are meant to be together."

  "Oh, Nyte." She cradled his cheeks in her hands and lost herself in the darkness of his eyes. "I wish we were meant to be together. I really do." She ran her hands across his shoulders, cherishing the feel of him. He was the first man she’d ever loved.

  And he would be the last, too. She knew deep in her heart she would never love another.

  She eased away from him, knowing she had no right to be in his arms.

  "But you and I are too different. You and Clarissa are a much better match."

  "Clarissa? Is that what this is about?"

  "She’s one of your own kind. I’m not."

  "My own kind?" His eyebrows lowered in a look of puzzlement.

  "You and she are from the same place, so I assume her powers match yours," Lucinda clarified.

  Understanding crossed his face. "Lucinda, it doesn’t matter that you and I are from different worlds." He stroked her hair behind her ear, the tender touch quivering through her. "We are very compatible," he murmured. He stared into her eyes for several moments, his intense gaze tunneling through her and undermining her resolve.

  "And as for Clarissa, she is not from my home world. She was the first wizard born on Earth. She and I became mates, and produced a child, but we both knew it wouldn’t last forever."

  He slid his hands to her shoulders, and gripped them firmly. "Because, as I told you before, Clarissa and I are not bonded. We both knew we would eventually find our soul mates."

  He tipped up her chin. "And I did. I found you." He brought his lips to hers in a delicate whisper of a kiss that left her wanting more. Oh, so much more. "It is you I love."

  The sincerity of his words enfolded her in warmth, and the heat cascaded through her in gentle waves of need.

  Could it be true? Did she and Nyte share a bond of love that would last forever?

  But as strong as her feelings for him were, how could she love a man who would overpower her?

  She shoved her hair back from her face. The heat from his eyes made it difficult to think.

  "Lucinda, tell me what’s still bothering you."

  She stared at his chest and toyed with one of the twists in the cable pattern of his sweater. "You’re so much more powerful than I am."

  His hands slid across her shoulders. "That doesn’t matter, Lucinda." His words were gentle and coaxing. "In human relationships, the man is usually physically stronger than the woman, but she has other strengths that more than compensate. It would be no different with us."

  He took her hands in his. "Sweetheart, I promised I would never overpower you."

  She drew away from him. "And you’ve already proven you can’t keep that promise."

  He sighed and raked his hand through his hair, sending black waves tumbling over his shoulder. "I know you’re angry about the fact I confined you in the bubble, but I did it to protect you."

  Protect. The word sliced through her. She slumped against the back of the couch. "Why do you insist I need protecting?"

  "In this case, you did. The spell to send Randalph to my home world--several hundred light years away--required a significant amount of energy. If you had gotten in the way of it...."

  He trailed off, leaving it to her imagination. And she could well imagine. The energy for such a spell would probably disintegrate her, body and soul, leaving behind nothing but a few sparks of light and a memory.

  Her cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze. She certainly wouldn’t argue the point that she’d needed protecting in this case, but she didn’t know how to accept the fact.

  She had learned long ago to stand alone. Needing protection meant weakness.

  "Sweetheart, protect isn’t a bad word. Would it be wrong to pull someone out of the way of an approaching train? Would it mean you don’t respect him, or believe he is a capable, independent person?"

  He stroked her cheek. "Lucinda, if I hadn’t stopped you, you would have been killed. You know I couldn’t have let that happen."

  She met his gaze for the first time. Was it wrong that he wanted to protect her? Did it make her weaker in his eyes?

  "But how can I trust you if you break promises--"

  "Lucinda, what about your promise?"

  "What promise?" She hadn’t fled when he’d released her from the bubble. At least, not right away.

  "When I left you at my house to search for Randalph, you promised you’d stay there."

  "Yes, but Remlin showed up. I thought he’d make you believe he’d taken me prisoner again. I couldn’t let you believe that. I knew you’d be vulnerable if you did."

  "In other words, you did it to protect me."

  "I--"

  She paused, letting the truth sink in. The urge to save him from Remlin had been so strong she hadn’t even thought about her promise. And even if she had, it wouldn’t have stopped her. She would have hoped Nyte would understand she couldn’t let Remlin have power over him. She’d had to do what she could to save Nyte.

  To protect him.

  "I might have been angry that you’d left, Lucinda, but I understood. I knew it was because you love me."

  He slid his hands to her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes. "Please, do the same for me. Don’t let this stand in the way of our love."

  She stared into his eyes and felt her resolve melting away. Of course, he was right. He had saved her. Because he loved her.

  He cupped her face in his hands. "And besides, you must realize by now that, although I may be stronger in physical and magical power, it is you who wields the ultimate power over me. Because I love you."

  He loved her.

  And she loved him. It burned through her like a fire ball. She couldn’t deny it any longer.

  She loved him.

  She took his hands in hers and, for the first time, really opened herself to his energy. It mingled with hers in a gentle wave of warmth, cascading through every part of her.

  "You really do love me, don’t you?" she said, slightly in awe.

  He cradled her face in his hands, his eyes glittering, and he kissed her with a poignant tenderness. As their lips parted, he murmured, "How could you ever have doubted it?"

  Happiness bolted through her, but the impish side of her suppressed the smile pressing at her lips.

  She decided she’d test his theory about her wielding the ultimate power over him. If she was going to admit she loved him, she wanted total commitment.

  "Well, if that’s true I want you to prove it."

  He smiled and slid his arms around her. His lips approached hers again as he drew her closer, but she could tell he intended something far more passionate than the kiss they’d just shared. Her insides quivered at the thought, but she gave him a quick peck then ducked out of his arms.

  "No, that’s not what I mean."

  His expression turned serious again. "What is it, Lucinda? I’ll do whatever it takes to prove my love."

  She gave in to the smile. "What does any man do when he loves a woman?"

  His mouth turned up on one side in a sexy half-grin and he tangled his fingers in her hair. "I just tried that, but you turned me down."

  "Nyte," she said through gritted teeth. "When a man loves a woman, he wants to prove he’ll be by her side forever."

  He sat back and rubbed his chin. "You’re not going to make this easy, are you?"

  She sighed. Was it such a huge leap to understand what
she wanted? Why did men always shy away from the ‘M’ word?

  "Do you really not understand what I want?" She slumped back on the couch. "It’s not very hard, you know."

  He gazed into her eyes, clearly trying to decipher what outrageous plan she must have in store for him.

  Men! They always had to make everything so complicated.

  He smiled. "I tell you what. Let me ask you a question first, then I’ll continue the guessing game."

  She folded her arms across her chest, trying hard not to pout. "Fine. What is it?"

  "Just this." He stood up and drew his hand in a semi-circle around them. Flowers appeared all over the room.

  Long stemmed red roses. Huge white orchids. Dramatic sprays of gladiolas. Aromatic gardenias. And more.

  Also, the light dimmed, replaced by the illumination of dozens of tall, tapered candles around the room, and soft music filled the air.

  Shivers flickered down her spine as he knelt down in front of her and took her hand. Her heart started spinning like a top.

  "Lucinda." He kissed the back of her hand, the feel of his lips like velvet. "My love." He stared deep into her eyes. "Will you marry me?"

  Her heart toppled over. Tears welled again, and she felt her cheeks blooming with a pink flush of happiness.

  "You’re asking me to marry you?"

  "I think if we’re going to spend eternity together marriage is a good idea, don’t you?"

  He’d been teasing her the whole time, but she didn’t care.

  Love. The happily-ever-after kind. It was finally within reach.

  So she reached out.

  And flung her arms around his neck, her lips finding his in a blaze of passion. His hands stroked up her back, pulling her close against him. Her body blossomed with heat as his breath tickled the fine hairs on the side of her neck and his hand stroked up under her hair and cupped the back of her head. She pressed tighter against him, her breasts pressing into him and he eased back and captured her gaze with quiet intensity, then he brought his lips to hers in a sweet, gentle seduction.