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  The faint musky scent of Israel lingered briefly in her nose. Alyx paused to lean against the door and inhale. Her gut tightened with a pang for him. He had left with Tobias a few days ago but his delicious smell still lingered here in her room, where he had stayed every night since they had defeated Samyara and his army.

  After Israel had almost been lost to Samyara, something had happened between them without either of them having to say it. It seemed as if they had both realized at once that they didn’t want to wait until these “problems” were fixed. Neither of them knew what might happen. All the excuses about why they shouldn’t be together dissolved. Now it seemed that they couldn’t be apart from each other.

  The smell of him faded in her nose but the pang of missing him remained in her chest. He’ll be back soon, she assured herself. Any day now.

  She moved to her bedside table, focusing her thoughts on Raphael’s charm. She couldn’t help but brush her fingers over a leather-bound book on the bedside table, The Count of Monte Cristo, something that Israel had been reading. She hadn’t moved it even after he had left with Tobias; she loved the look of his things mixed with hers.

  She leaned down to pull open her drawer where she had hidden Raphael’s charm, but the soft click of footsteps at her door stopped her. She knew it was Israel. She could feel him.

  Raphael’s charm forgotten, she turned and flung herself at the door just as it opened. She fell into Israel’s arms and he caught her. She sighed happily as his hands fed around her back and pulled her in close, her feet lifting off the ground. Neither of them said anything. They didn’t have to.

  Alyx just pressed herself further into him and buried her nose in his neck. The masculine scent of his skin warmed her lungs. This is home, she thought, right in his arms, I am home. He was home more than Michaelea had ever been. He was the true meaning of home.

  Only when he reached a hand around the back of her neck and gently tugged her head back did she let herself pull her face from his neck. There was a desperate look on his face, a pressing together of his eyebrows before his mouth found hers and his tongue begged its way in between her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  The pressure of his lips was almost bruising. He kissed her as if he was dying of thirst and her lips held precious drops of water. Somewhere in the haze that clouded her head, the faded consciousness of the irrelevant world outside his kiss, she was vaguely aware that he had stepped them fully into her room and kicked the door shut behind him.

  His hands grabbed at her body and twisted in her hair as he walked them both to her bed. She felt them tumble onto the mattress and was jolted away from his mouth. When they stopped rolling, he was lying alongside her, with one of his legs over hers.

  His nose ran along her cheek and her neck as he inhaled deeply, then let it out in a low groan. “I missed you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

  “Did you?” She hid her grin as she nuzzled back into his neck. “But you were only gone for two days.”

  “And I missed you for every second of every hour of those two long days.”

  “I thought you’d be longer. Did everything go okay with your aunt?”

  Israel growled softly as his hand found her skin under her shirt. “I don’t want to talk about her right now.”

  “Okay… How were things with Tobias?”

  “I don’t think you get it. I don’t want to talk right now.”

  “Oh.” Oh yes.

  His eyes darkened as he leaned in to capture her mouth, once more making her head spin. In a small part of her mind, thoughts of Michael and Raphael’s charm nagged at her. She pushed at his chest gently and he pulled away, a deep frown marring his beautiful face.

  “Things have happened since you went away,” she said.

  “They can wait.”

  “Balthazar visited me.”

  “He can definitely wait.” He leaned in again.

  She dodged his mouth. “Balthazar said that Michael−”

  “Stop,” he said, firmly, his eyes glittering with a steady fierceness. “The world survived Michael this long. It can survive a few more damn hours. It…it was not a good trip. I missed you. I need to feel you, to be with you, to remind myself that there is something good left in this world. I need just a few hours to be with you, where there are no family secrets or surprise fathers, no deranged angels or demon-lords hell bent on starting a war, no apocalypse, or anyone trying to kill me or kidnap me and use me as a door-opener. You are my center, my balance, my sanity. My peace. I just need to be you and me. Just for a while. Is that okay?”

  Alyx nodded, emotion clogging up her throat so she couldn’t speak.

  He sighed and relief melted the frown on his face. He kissed her again and this time she let all other thoughts dissipate like sand to the wind.

  Chapter Three

  “Go to sleep.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ll miss your dazzling conversation too much.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am being serious.”

  “Cleo…”

  “Fine. I’m not tired.”

  “Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Cannot. You just don’t want to answer my question.”

  Jordan sighed. He pushed back against the window, saying goodbye to those stars that shone outside, and turned. He sank into the chair by Cleo’s bed. Unlike the previous chair, this one was a soft, comfortable leather armchair. A vast improvement on the stiff-backed wooden one that was in Cleo’s room previously. How she had managed to get this as a replacement, he didn’t want to know. Cleo had a way with her hips and her lashes and lips that made any man within a hundred yards drop to their hind legs, tails wagging, to perform tricks or fetch at her whim.

  “What was the question again?” Jordan asked.

  Cleo rolled onto her side facing him, her hair fanned out across her white pillow looking like spilled ink. “Exactly how many women have you slept with?”

  “What?” Jordan’s eyes bugged out of his head and his torso launched forward as if someone had kicked the chair out from under him. “That was not the question you asked before.”

  One corner of Cleo’s mouth pulled up and her eyes sparkled. Jordan called this her trademark “I’m being wicked and you secretly love it” grin. “I know. I was just checking to see if you were paying attention.”

  Jordan hmpfted as he settled back into his chair. It took him a second to realize that Cleo was still eyeing him. “What?”

  “So,” she drew out slowly, “how many have there been?”

  “I’ll tell you, if you tell me.”

  Cleo visibly whitened. She quickly covered it up with a smirk that pulled her thick lips into a pout. “You do remember that I was one of Lady Bluesette’s girls at Purgatory for three or so decades, right?” The pout receded and she got a glint in her eye. “Despite this fact, I bet that your number is still greater than mine. Hmmm, the infamous Jordan Bonaven. The number has to be double digits. Maybe even triple…” She let off a wink.

  “You’re jealous because I had a better reputation than you.”

  “Had.”

  “What?”

  “You said ‘had’. You were correct. You had a better reputation.” Cleo leaned forward. “Reputation no more. Rumor is that the great woman-charmer of the century has gone…soft.” She infused this last word, soft, with teasing.

  It was true. He had a reputation. He had bedded any willing woman he found any passing interest in. He never lied to them. They all knew what the deal was; strictly physical only. No commitment. No relationships. Distractions, he now knew they had been. Until Alyx came along. She had changed him. Had made him want more than he had ever wanted before. Life had taken on color again, a bright colorful gloss as if he were walking around in a dream. Turns out it had just been a dream. Because he soon woke up from it when she chose someone else.

  Cleo continued, “Rumor is…you couldn’t c
harm your way out of a paper bag anymore.”

  Jordan put his feet up on the bed. “What do I care about what people say?”

  Cleo smiled. “We could prove them wrong.”

  “We? And just how do you propose that we do that?”

  Cleo stretched out along her bed; her red silky nightie drew up her long legs. Jordan averted his eyes. She was always teasing him with her body. He couldn’t help but be affected by that body; he tried very hard not to show it. She knew the power of her sexuality and she wasn’t afraid to tease him mercilessly with it. But he wouldn’t give in. He didn’t want to be that guy anymore. Besides, Cleo just toyed with him. She didn’t actually want him. And just the physical stuff, it wasn’t enough anymore.

  Jordan forced a bored look on his face and closed his eyes, sinking into his chair as if he was going to sleep. “I would actually have to find you attractive to seduce you, darling.”

  Cleo squealed in indignation. Jordan smiled inwardly to himself. She was so easy to rile up.

  “Whatever, loser.” A pillow struck him squarely in the face.

  In his sleep, Jordan became aware of a soft scent, sweet without being floral or sticky, and with a hum of musk. It was perfection. He reached out in the dark towards this musky heaven and found a soft, warm body. He pulled Alyx into his arms. To his surprise, she rolled into him instead of pushing him away.

  Part of his mind wondered, did Alyx ever smell like this?

  No, he realized. This isn’t Alyx. Soft locks fell across his chest as the familiar feminine body nestled into the nook of his chest and laced itself around him. Her hair too smelled sweet, but a different sweet to her body. This was more of a clean smell but it complemented the musky heaven just perfectly.

  “Cleo,” he mumbled into her hair. Of course it was Cleo. As if he could ever mistake her for Alyx. She moaned at her name and pressed herself firmer into him. Her body seemed to melt around him and fissions of heat vibrated through his body. She fit against him so well. His arm curled around her shoulder like armor. And that’s what he felt like, strong as steel and ready to take any sword aimed for her head.

  She sighed with obvious happiness and if his head wasn’t already spinning with bliss, this sound just took him further into that state. If this exact position − this exact press and mold of their bodies − wasn’t such perfection, he would have pulled her up and onto him. But he didn’t dare to move in case he woke her. Or himself. Because, of course, this was just a dream.

  Jordan woke slowly, cursing the ray of sun that slipped through the curtains and landed maliciously across one eye. He found that something soft was on his chest, partially pinning him down. Something soft and warm and smelling ever so like the heaven of his dreams.

  He must still be dreaming then. He stayed still, hoping to remain in this blessed state. She began to stir on his chest. Her fingers curled on his shirt and their tips found their way under the hem and brushed against his skin. She moaned and Jordan found himself stiffening at the noise. How many more of those moans could he coax from her?

  His eyelids fluttered open and he glanced down, stunned into thoughtlessness as he beheld the angelic face on his chest, chin tilted up towards him. That midnight hair tumbling across her smooth, tanned cheekbones, those thick lashes now closed, hiding dark eyes shaped like cats’, and that pouty smart-mouth.

  It’s the most beautiful face I have ever seen in my life. This thought drifted up through his half-asleep mind.

  Her eyelids fluttered open. He first registered surprise in her eyes before they melted to liquid night and an inviting smile dragged across her face. What a delicious dream this was turning out to be…

  “Good morning,” Cleo said, her voice husky from sleep.

  This wasn’t a dream… Jordan snapped awake. He yanked his arm out from under her causing her to yelp as she rolled across the bed. He leapt out of the bed, shaking the blankets off him as if they were snakes.

  “Oh God,” he cried.

  How long had he been holding on to her. Did he…? Did they...? He froze, letting that thought terrify him into motionlessness for one moment. He stared down at himself. He was clothed. Thank God. There was a slight stiffness in his pants which he hoped Cleo hadn’t noticed. It’s just because it’s the morning and well, these things happen to men in the morning. Besides, he had woken up next to a beautiful woman. He would have reacted this way if it had been any beautiful woman. Not just because it was Cleo, right?

  Cleo. What would she think of him?

  Jordan looked up at Cleo still swathed in her white sheets. He saw a glimpse of red straps falling daintily off her shoulder. This meant she was clothed too.

  He tried to remember what they had been doing last night that led him here. It didn’t start out any differently than any other night. He came into her room and sat in the chair by her bed and they talked and she teased him until she started to yawn.

  Eventually her voice slowed to a sleepy slur and her questions grew further and further apart until she fell asleep and he spent the night in the chair… except last night he didn’t stay in the chair. He had woken up when she had a nightmare. They were coming less and less now but still coming. He had slipped in beside her and rubbed her hair, her soft silky hair that ran like water through his fingers, until she had fallen asleep. He must have fallen asleep too. In her bed.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said, feeling like an ass when he said it because his words sounded so…stuck out there. He shouldn’t be this damned uncomfortable being caught in a woman’s bed. Lord only knows he had woken up in many before Cleo. He was Jordan Bonaven for Christ’s sake, he always knew what to say and when to say it to a woman. He certainly didn’t trip out of bed red-faced like a teenager with a hard-on when he woke up next to said woman. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Cleo didn’t seem to notice the turmoil going on inside him. She yawned and Jordan found his eyes wandering to her breasts, which were pushing out against thin silky red material as she stretched. The stiffness in his pants stiffened even further. Oh great. He moved his hands in front of him, hoping it wasn’t too inconspicuous.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, “you didn’t do anything ungentlemanly or untoward. Unfortunately,” she added in a mumble.

  “I have to go.” He grabbed his shoes and socks, the only articles of clothing that he had removed, thank goodness. This would have been an even more awkward good morning if things had gone any further. He didn’t know why he was so damn flustered. It’s not like he hadn’t spent every damn night in this room and sometimes even in her bed, but he had always been sitting up. He had never slept next to her, let alone…groped her in his sleep!

  “Relax, Jordan. Nothing happened.”

  “No,” he began to back away toward the door, “it’s not that. I just remembered, I…” His mind drew a blank. His back hit the door and he dropped a shoe. Dammit. He snatched it up and shoved both shoes into one arm so he could grab the door handle with his other. He glanced at Cleo, who was sitting up in her bed, the sheet fallen now around her waist revealing her silky red top. It took everything for him not to jump back in there with her.

  Dammit. He had to get out of here before he totally and completely took advantage of his friendship with Cleo. “I…um…” He gave up on trying to come up with a valid-sounding excuse. “See you later.” He gave her an awkward finger wave and opened the door.

  Jordan slipped out, stubbing his toe on the frame. He twisted awkwardly, still trying to hold on to his shoes while shutting it behind him. Thank God that awkwardness is over.

  He turned and bumped into the last person on Earth that he wanted to see at this moment. Literally.

  Alyx fell back after bouncing off his chest. Jordan whipped out his free hand to steady her out of instinct, and in doing so he dropped one of his shoes. He was certain now. God was having a laugh at him.

  “Sorry,” Alyx said, blinking at him.

  “No. I’m sorry.”

&nbs
p; “No, it was me. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  Alyx and he both leaned down for his shoe at the same time. Their heads bumped together.

  “Ow.”

  “Dammit. Sorry. Again.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Jordan grabbed his wayward shoe and stood up stiffly as Alyx straightened up too. They stood there for several seconds. Alyx chewing her lip. Jordan shuffling on his bare feet, the stone cold underneath them.

  Welcome to Planet Awkward. Population me.

  Since their battle with Samyara several days ago, Jordan had been trying to avoid Alyx. He just needed some time and space from her to let his feelings fade. It was clear that she had chosen Israel.

  Now, evident by the thick and awkward silence that had fallen between them, neither of them knew how to move forward from here.

  “How are you?” he blurted out.

  She nodded a little too fervently. “Good. You?”

  “Yes. Good. Thanks.”

  “I just saw Mini.”

  “Oh, good. How is she?”

  Alyx’s face fell a little. Jordan recognized it and cursed himself for being able to read her so well. I should be with her. Jordan shoved that thought away. No good thinking these things.

  “Mini is asking for Ky. I just…I don’t know what to tell her.”

  Jordan felt his heart thud a little. Ky had been Lukas’ and Ana’s son. He had been like a younger brother to Jordan. Jordan had barely any time to grieve for Ky after he had died. Jordan swallowed down the small lump in his throat before he spoke. “That’s a difficult one. I don’t envy you.”

  Damned silence fell across them again. That damned silence that was filled with all the things that he wanted to say to her but couldn’t. Jordan cleared his throat. “How is Israel?” He forced his words around the boy’s name. Yes, he wanted to make things better with Alyx but he still didn’t have to like him.

  “He’s good. He just came back from his outing with Tobias. You know, father, son, bonding time.”