Fire Maidens: London Read online

  Given everything that had transpired, she had good reason to fear sleep because of all the nightmares that were sure to follow. But with Liam, the cheery fire, and the castle walls…

  “Good night,” she mumbled, drifting easily, peacefully to sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The fireplace crackled, and Liam sighed, glancing around. It had been a long time — too long, really — since he’d slept an entire night in lion form. It had been too long since he’d been home. Too long since he’d thought enough about his parents to feel connected to them…

  Too long since we really cared about something, his lion whispered.

  He leaned into Gemma’s hand. Her fingers had stopped moving when she fell asleep, but the contact felt nice. So nice that he sat thinking for a while in spite of his exhaustion.

  Lots of guys came home from the military feeling numb, but in his case, the numbness had set in much earlier. Way back to some point in his childhood, even. Now, for the first time in years, he felt alive and burning to succeed in one incredibly important thing.

  He huffed in a quiet lion chuckle. Gemma had so many causes, and for the first time in ages, he did too.

  He had to protect her. To eliminate the bad guys. To make her his mate — not because the Guardians had ordered him to, but because he loved her.

  The question was, how to proceed? His relatives had betrayed him. The Guardians of London had probably declared him a rogue for spiriting Gemma away. Worst of all, he had no idea where the Lombardis were or what they were planning.

  He stared into the glowing embers. Funny, he’d never realized how easy life in the Legion had been. He’d been told what to do, when to move, and when to rest. He’d been handed causes to fight for and weapons to accomplish that with. But real life was far more complicated, and not just because a man had to figure out complex issues on his own. As it turned out, the line between good and evil was blurrier than he’d been led to believe.

  The wind howled outside, and a shutter rattled.

  We need that Fire Maiden, Electra had said. When the shifter world is at peace, the human world tends to follow.

  He growled under his breath. Electra was right. London needed its Fire Maiden, and Gemma was it.

  You have a chance to atone for your mother’s mistakes. To serve your pride.

  He wasn’t so sure about his mother’s mistakes, but serving his pride was one reason he’d taken the job in London — to finally earn his place among his lion kin. But fitting in wasn’t all that attractive. Not now that he knew how the Guardians operated.

  Find her. Protect her. Claim this Maiden before it is too late.

  He wanted to — desperately. But, hell. What next? Should he come out and tell Gemma about the Guardians’ twisted plans? Or should he explain mating first? Then there was the matter of his mixed heritage. Gemma didn’t know he was half dragon, and she seemed convinced all dragons were enemies. How would he ever explain?

  Tiny flames danced and swirled. His eyelids grew heavier, and he nodded off, hoping nightmares wouldn’t find him.

  But the dreams that visited him were good ones, if a little warped. Some featured Gemma, while others backtracked to his childhood, and still others overlapped. In one dream, his mother patted him on the back and grinned at what a nice girl he’d found to settle down with. His father smiled too, and spoke to Liam man-to-man, not father to child.

  You found your mate? Good. Now love her. Protect her. Make her happy, no matter what it takes.

  Which was nice, but strange. Everyone had always said his father was a selfish rogue. In Liam’s dreams, the man was utterly devoted to his mate.

  I love her. I would die for her, Liam heard his father swear.

  He did die for her, a little voice whispered.

  Which only went to show how mixed up he was. According to his aunt Lucinda, his father had been killed in a senseless fight, leaving Liam’s mother to die of sorrow.

  He woke with a start and tapped his tail, thinking. Eventually, he snorted and put his head down again. It was late, and he was tired. Too tired to think straight. If he didn’t get some rest, he wouldn’t be able to protect Gemma.

  So he concentrated on happy thoughts, like the weight of Gemma’s hand on his mane and the quiet, steady sound of her breath. And before he knew it…

  He woke suddenly, feeling cranky because he’d only just gotten to sleep.

  But sunlight was flooding through the windows, and birds were chirping outside. Somehow, the entire night had slipped by. He yawned and looked around. Wow. Apparently, he’d fallen into one of those rare, deep sleeps that felt like an instant but were actually hours long.

  His mane ruffled under Gemma’s hand, which meant she was awake. Awake and watching him, as he discovered when he turned. Her smile was as bright as the sunshine pouring through the windows, and her dark eyes shone.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  He twisted his head under her hand. Good morning to you, beautiful.

  She chuckled. “I see you want to pick up where we left off.”

  He bobbed his head. In truth, he had business to attend to, but he hadn’t been able to enjoy a quiet morning for a long, long time. And he hadn’t ever had the pleasure of spending one with his destined mate. So he indulged himself in a few minutes of tuning in to Gemma. He couldn’t read her mind, but if he really tried, he might be able to pick up on more subtle clues. Had she slept well? Did she like his ancestral home?

  He closed his eyes and flared his nostrils, testing her scent. She was calm. Happy, with thoughts that seemed to be drifting around.

  He let his drift too, and while they meandered for a time, he kept circling around to the raw, rushed sex they’d had in Richmond. Damn, had that been good. And wow — they’d been perfectly in tune, barely needing to utter a word to communicate. He pictured the look on Gemma’s face when she’d crawled over his body and—

  He threw on the brakes, trying not to venture too far down that slippery path. But, whoa. A sniff revealed the air to be thick with the scent of arousal, and not just his. Had Gemma been thinking along those lines as well?

  A peek showed that her eyes were vacant, her hands gripping the sheets.

  “Hey,” she whispered when she caught him watching.

  He held his breath. Would she blush and pretend she didn’t feel what he felt? Or would she embrace the instinctive need to bond?

  Her eyes held his for a long, quiet minute. Then she considered for a moment and finally spoke. “What if I invited you up?”

  Liam’s heart revved, and he flicked an ear. Did she mean what he thought she did?

  She chuckled. “As you, I mean. Sleeping next to a lion is pretty amazing, but in bed, I have a strict rule. No animals. Just humans.” Then she turned crimson and rushed to explain. “Oh my. That sounded wrong. I mean, one at a time. I mean, not just anyone. I mean…” She flapped her hands, trying to find the right words. “You. I mean you.”

  Oh, he knew what she meant, all right. So, he shifted — the fastest, smoothest shift of his life. Gemma’s eyes went wide, but she held the sheet up, and he slid right in — into her arms and into a kiss.

  “You’re like a drug, you know,” she mumbled when they came up for air. “I never used to be like this.”

  He really had to explain about mates soon. Because he’d never felt anything like this either. It was as if he had three gears: protect Gemma. Admire Gemma. Burn with desire for Gemma.

  They had started out side by side, but soon, he rolled, gently coming out on top. Gemma’s eyes glowed like coals — a sure sign of her shifter heritage — and her fingers spread out on his chest. When they kissed again, her legs snuck up along his sides, and her chest heaved.

  “I want you so much…”

  He traced her lips with one trembling finger, mouthing a silent message. I want you — to be safe. To be happy. To be mine.

  Her eyes shone, and he could sense her inner animal reply. I want you to be mi
ne.

  She knew they were mates, even if she didn’t know exactly what that meant.

  “Liam…”

  Her needy whisper set him off again, and he went back to kissing her. Inhaling her, practically. He was naked, while she was wearing a shirt and knickers, but not for long. Within seconds, he’d helped her wiggle out of both.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered, rolling her nipple between his lips.

  She gasped and arched off the mattress.

  He could have caressed her soft flesh all morning, but hell. He needed some more of her sweet lips too. Meanwhile, his legs were a step ahead, nudging hers apart while he lowered a hand to her core. The minute he traced her folds, she moaned.

  “Yes…”

  Her voice was muffled, because his mouth covered hers. His heart hammered, and his body ached with need. The more he slid his hand around, the more Gemma pushed back, and the slicker she became. When she wrapped a hand around his cock, his breath caught. And when she started sliding up and down, his eyes rolled back.

  Mate… his lion murmured again and again. My beautiful, perfect mate.

  Her hair fanned over the pillow, and her mouth formed silent cries as he circled a finger inside her. Wider and wider, feeling her body cry for his.

  Then he pulled away with a gasp and tumbled out of bed. “Condom…”

  The first time they’d slept together, neither of them had been thinking clearly. This time, he had no excuse. But someday, when she was his mate…

  Gemma grumbled a little, though nowhere near as loud as his lion protested. Still, he fumbled in a pocket of the pants he’d stripped out of the night before. He’d felt like a cad when he’d bought a pack of condoms at a petrol station the previous day, but now, he was fairly proud of himself. A smart lion was a prepared lion.

  A smart lion claims his mate, his inner beast grumbled.

  Gemma stuck out her hand. “Allow me.”

  He handed over a condom and hurried back into bed. Boy, was it nice to be with a woman who knew what she wanted. And nice to turn a practicality into searing pleasure as her fist dragged along his shaft. The moment the condom was on, Gemma lay back, opening her arms to him. His limbs fit perfectly around hers, and his hips dipped. For one long, aching minute, he slid along her body, dragging out the pleasure. Then he anchored his arms beside her head, took a deep breath, and thrust in.

  Gemma cried out, a sound of pure pleasure that begged for more. He withdrew and waited as long as he could before hammering back in.

  “Yes…” She tipped her head back and hugged him with her legs.

  His blood was on fire, his muscles tight with need.

  “Gemma…”

  More, her eyes begged. More.

  He plunged deeper, barely holding off the explosion building within. Every time he pumped his hips, Gemma bucked back. She slid her hands from his hips to his ass, pulling him closer. Soon, he lost track of which thumping heartbeat was his and which was hers. He lost track of himself, too, because his canines started to extend, preparing for a mating bite.

  There, his lion whispered, watching the pulse beat in her neck. Right along there.

  He kissed her neck, sniffing his way to the perfect spot, guided by an instinct he’d never felt before. All it would take was to sink his teeth deep and Gemma would be his forever. It all played out in his mind, from the smooth slide of his teeth to the heavenly sigh she would heave and the tsunami of pleasure that would consume them both. He sensed exactly how to seal his lips around his bite, keeping her safe while his shifter essence mingled with hers. He could practically feel the satisfaction that would come afterward, knowing she was truly his. Forever.

  “Liam…” she moaned, arching under him.

  He was so, so close to biting her. But instinct served up another image, catching him off guard. He pictured himself holding Gemma in the mating bite, then exhaling, sending a puff of fire through her veins.

  Marking her as ours, a deep voice murmured in his mind.

  But, wait. That was a hallmark of dragon mating, not of lions. What was up with that?

  He gave himself a little shake and beat back the crazy urge. Now was not the time to mate, but he could give her the high of her life. So, he put everything into pleasuring her — hard and fast enough to make that oak bed creak. Then every muscle in his body pulsed at the same time, and he came.

  “Yes!” Gemma cried, shuddering beneath him.

  He tossed his head back in a silent roar that echoed through the castle walls. The frequency was too low for human ears, but clear in his mind. Outside, birds fluttered off the windowsills, and the last, burned-through log collapsed in the fireplace.

  “So good…” Gemma groaned, still clenched around him.

  Images rushed through his mind, most of Gemma in ecstasy. A few were proud lion images in which he roared from a hilltop, staking his claim. Others showed the castle from above, with a feeling of cool air rushing under wings. That contrasted with the heat of the fire he exhaled in a long, fierce breath, daring any enemy to take him on.

  Which was confusing as hell. He was a lion, not a dragon. Why was he even imagining such things? A holdover from his dragon heritage, he supposed.

  He held on to his climax as long as he could, then sank down over his mate and panted into the sheets. Holy hell. Was it even possible to feel that good?

  Gemma went limp too, though she cried out a moment later, shuddering with an aftershock that zinged through his bones, making him go hard once more. Then they both drooped and held each other, counting every pounding heartbeat.

  “Mmm,” Gemma mumbled sometime later. She was still wrapped around him, her hands patting his back. “Cozy.”

  He laughed and pulled back for a look at her. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks pink, her expression more peaceful than he’d ever seen.

  “This might be cozy. But that was…” He searched for the word. Amazing was such a cliché. So was earth-shattering, and neither came close to describing what he’d felt.

  “Good,” Gemma filled in. “Really, really good.”

  Her tone captured the feeling more than the words, and he nodded. “Beyond good.” Then he kissed her, held her, and gradually drifted back to sleep.

  * * *

  Liam knew he had business to attend to, but once he and Gemma had woken — and made love — a second time, then eaten breakfast, he took her for a walk instead.

  “Oh!” She stopped in her tracks and checked her watch before they’d made it too far. “There’s a meeting of the Safer Parks Panel today.”

  He looked at her. Wow. The woman’s life had been turned upside down in the past twenty-four hours, but she was still committed to her causes.

  “You’re going to miss it,” he pointed out as gently as possible.

  She frowned. “I guess so. Damn.” Then she looked around, took a deep breath, and strode on. “First World problem, I guess. This is beautiful, by the way.”

  He grinned. With the previous day’s storm off to soak some other part of Britain, the sun was shining brighter than ever, and every bird on the moors sang at the top of its lungs. Liam nearly sang too, but he settled for swinging Gemma’s hand as they walked.

  “Correction. This isn’t beautiful. It’s gorgeous.” Her voice was soft and lyrical, fitting in with their surroundings.

  He gazed around, taking in the rust-colored slopes, the purple patches of heather, and the lush moss growing along ledges.

  “It is gorgeous.”

  A brook babbled, and a hare bounded from one bush to another. A bird of prey circled above, the forks of his tail casting a distinctive shadow over the landscape. Every sight, every sound, and every earthy scent set off memories. Nice ones, like his mother laughing or his father carrying him on his shoulders.

  Liam paused, looking over the miles of untouched landscape. Maybe his father hadn’t had to steal his mother away from London to this place. Maybe she’d loved it as much as Gemma did.

  His eyes fell
to Gemma’s feet. He’d found a pair of rubber boots that fit her, as well as an old wax jacket. Had they been his mother’s?

  “I’d love to live in a place like this,” Gemma murmured.

  He looked at her, bursting to bare his heart and soul. So, stay, he nearly said. Be my mate, and we can be together forever.

  But all he got out was a quiet, “Maybe you could.”

  She smiled wistfully, not quite catching on. “You offering me a job?”

  Then she did catch on, because her eyes went wide, and her throat bobbed.

  Yes, he meant it. But for some reason, he shrugged, trying to play it cool instead of dropping to one knee and uttering the words on the tip of his tongue. I love you. I need you. Please be my mate.

  Fool that he was, all he said was, “We could call this the interview.”

  It came out a little breathlessly, and for a long, quiet minute, they looked at each other, unmoving, unblinking, hearts pounding. The cheerful little brook gurgled, and the wind whispered through knots of wild grass.

  Gemma’s eyes shone, and her whisper was a little uneven. “I’m not sure. How long would the contract extend?”

  He swallowed away the lump in his throat. “Quite a long time. Maybe even forever.”

  A butterfly flitted past on delicate, powdery wings.

  Gemma bit her lip. “I see. And what exactly would the job entail?”

  “I guess that’s open to negotiation,” he murmured, though his lion cried, Anything you want. You name it. Just stay with me.

  She took his hands and rubbed her thumbs over his, gazing into his eyes. “I like the sound of that. A lot. But I wouldn’t consider anything less than a full partnership, you know.”

  He smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  She nodded slowly. “Of course, I’d need some time to think it over. The job offer, I mean.”

  He slid his arms around her shoulders, slowly reeling her in. “As long as you need.”

  Her lips moved, but she ended up kissing him instead. The first was a soft peck. The second was a long, lingering kiss, and on the third, her chest pressed against his. The sweet scent of arousal joined the peaty scent in the air, and Liam couldn’t resist sliding his hands down her rear.