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Chapter Two
Sara went perfectly still beneath him, staring up into that face. For one long moment time stopped. The terror receded slowly, to be replaced by haunted wonder. “I know you,” she whispered in amazement.
She twisted her wrist almost absently, gently, asking for release. Falcon allowed her hands to slip free of his grip. She touched his face tentatively with two fingertips. An artist’s careful stroke. She moved her fingers over his face as if she were blind and the memory of him was etched into her soul rather than in her sight.
There were tears swimming in her eyes, tangling on her long lashes. Her breath caught in her throat. Her trembling hands went to his hair, tunneled through the dark thickness, lovingly, tenderly. She held the silken strands in her fists, bunching the heavy fall of hair in her hands. “I know you. I do.” Her voice was a soft measure of complete wonder.
She did know him, every angle and plane of his features. Those black, haunting eyes, the wealth of blue-black hair falling to his shoulders. He had been her only companion since she was fifteen. Every night she slept with him, every day she carried him with her. His face, his words. She knew his soul as intimately as she knew her own. She knew him. Dark angel. Her dark dream. She knew his beautiful, haunting words, which revealed a soul naked and vulnerable, and so achingly alone.
Falcon was completely enthralled, caught by the love in her eyes, the sheer intensity of it. She glowed with happiness she didn’t even try to hide from him. Her body had gone from wild struggling to complete stillness. But now there was a subtle difference. She was wholly feminine, soft and inviting. Each stroke of her fingertips over his face sent curling heat straight to his soul.
Just as quickly her expression changed to confusion, to fright. To guilt. Along with sheer terror he could sense determination. Falcon felt the buildup of aggression in her body and caught her hands before she could hurt herself. He leaned close to her, capturing her gaze with his own. “Be calm; we will sort this out. I know I frightened you, and for that I apologize.” Deliberately he lowered his voice so that it was a soft, rich tapestry of notes designed to soothe, to lull, to ensnare. “You cannot win a battle of strength between us, so do not waste your energy.” His head lowered further so that he rested, for one brief moment, his brow against hers. “Listen to the sound of my heart beating. Let your heart follow the lead of mine.”
His voice was one of unparalleled beauty. She found she wanted to succumb to his dark power. His grip was extraordinarily gentle, tender even; he held her with exquisite care. Her awareness of his enormous strength, combined with his gentleness, sent strange flames licking along her skin. She was trapped for all time in the fathomless depths of his eyes. There was no end there, just a free fall she couldn’t pull out of. Her heart did follow his, slowing until it was beating with the exact same rhythm.
Sara had a will of iron, honed in the fires of trauma, and yet she couldn’t pull free of that dark, hypnotic gaze, even though a part of her recognized she was under an unnatural black-magic spell. Her body trembled slightly as he lifted his head, as he brought her hand to his eye level to inspect the shredded skin. “Allow me to heal this for you,” he said softly. His accent gave his voice a sensual twist she seemed to feel right down to her toes. “I knew you had injured yourself in your flight.” He had smelled the scent of her blood in the night air. It had called to him, beckoned him through the darkness like the brightest of beacons.
His black eyes burning into hers, Falcon slowly brought Sara’s hand to the warmth of his mouth. At the first touch of his breath on her skin, Sara’s eyes widened in shock. Warmth. Heat. It was sensual intimacy beyond her experience, and all he had done was breathe on her. His tongue stroked a healing, soothing caress along the back of her hand. Black velvet, moist and sensual. Her entire body clenched, went liquid beneath him. Her breath caught in her throat. To her utter astonishment, the stinging disappeared as rough velvet trailed along each laceration to leave a tingling awareness behind. The black eyes drifted over her face, intense, burning. Intimate. “Better?” he asked softly.