Whisper Kiss

  "But you're giving him a chance."

  Niall met her gaze steadily. "Yes. I want him to have the second chance my father never gave him." He smiled. "Just like you suggested."

  Her lips parted in wonder.

  "Rafferty thinks firestorms are intended to teach us something about ourselves, and I'm wondering whether that's it. I've got to be sure." Niall fell silent then and stared into the endless blue of Rox's eyes.

  The kettle boiled, startling them both with its shrill whistle.

  Niall took the opportunity to step farther into the tiny kitchen. He heard Rox catch her breath as he reached past her for the kettle.

  "Let me," he murmured, then filled the pot with steaming water. She was so close, so alluring, so delicate. He put his hand on the counter beside her and, to his relief, she didn't move away. His hand looked large beside her, making her seem more tiny and feminine.

  More precious.

  He looked down and was startled to find her watching him closely. Her eyes weren't just blue, it turned out, but mingled with gray and gold, wide and thickly lashed. Her skin was so fair, her mouth so full and soft. She was lovely, far prettier than he'd imagined, and he wondered again why she took such effort to hide her beauty.

  There was a tattoo at the outside corner of one eye, one that he hadn't noticed before. It was a tiny heart, no more than a quarter of an inch in diameter, outlined in blue. There was a jagged line right across its middle.

  He was surprised by the choice of tattoo, of the hint of fragility that belied her attitude. But he'd glimpsed it several times, this vulnerability of Rox's, and it was no less fascinating to discover a tattoo that echoed his own observations.

  What was Rox hiding from the world? And why? Niall wanted to know.

  "A broken heart?" he murmured, unable to keep himself from raising a finger to touch the minuscule tattoo.

  They gasped in unison as the firestorm's spark leapt between his finger and her cheekbone, and Niall caught his breath at the sight of Rox bathed in golden light. The heat slid under his skin, through his hand, up his arm, and pierced his heart.

  "A reminder each and every day of the price of trust," she said, and he was surprised by her words and her bitterness.

  "Every day?"

  "When I look in the mirror, it's there. Every time." She shrugged and smiled, trying to soften the edge of her words. Niall knew her tone was indicative of an old wound, only tentatively healed. But she smiled for him. He ached that her smile was wary, and he found it utterly seductive. "No chance of forgetting ever again."

  Niall found himself wanting to defend Rox from anyone who gave her trouble, anyone who challenged her obvious desire to fend for herself. He studied her, seeing again the shadow that lurked beneath her bold manner, and let his finger ease down her cheek. It caught at his heart that anyone could have been cruel to her; it angered him that anyone dared to deliberately hurt her. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and she swallowed, her lashes dropping to hide her thoughts.

  "Yeah, sure," she said, her tone dismissive of his sympathy.

  Niall saw the tear, though--he saw it slip onto her cheek before she rubbed it away. He understood that she didn't want anyone to understand or show compassion. He respected her attempt to defend herself, but he knew she didn't have to defend herself from him.

  He'd never break her heart.

  He instinctively wanted to console her, and there was only one way to do it. Niall lifted her chin with that one fingertip, tipping her face toward his. When she didn't fight him, simply met his gaze steadily, he bent and touched his lips to hers.

  The heat was incendiary, flaring instantly between them and making both of them inhale in unison. But Niall didn't retreat from the flame. He closed his mouth over Rox's soft lips, claiming her with a kiss, even as he cupped her jaw in his hand.

  And when she opened her mouth to him, he thought he would explode. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and lifted her against him, loving the way she twined her arms around his neck. She kissed him back, meeting him more than halfway, just as she had the last time, and her response melted his reservations even more quickly.

  He deepened his kiss and she made a little growl of pleasure, one that made him wonder how she would look, how she would sound, when she came.

  Never mind all the things he could do to prompt that reaction. He could feel her heartbeat accelerating, and he felt a bit dizzy as his own heart matched its pace. He heard his breathing synchronize with hers and the sensation made him tingle. He caught her closer and the firestorm's heat surged through him, obliterating awareness of anything other than Rox's soft lips.

  Niall slid his hands over Rox's curves, the smooth silk still too much of a barrier to his touch. He kissed her beneath her ear, feeling her sigh in his hair, then unfastened the silk top and eased his hand inside. Rox was tiny and perfect, her breasts pert and her nipples responding to his caress. He cupped one breast in his hand, slid his thumb across the nipple, smiled when she gasped and swallowed.

  But she didn't move away. Her eyes were dark and her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted and swollen from his kiss. He could see the edge of another tattoo on her shoulder, but Niall didn't care about such details.

  He wanted Rox.

  Niall bent, closed his eyes, and took her nipple in his mouth, teasing and caressing, loving how she arched against him. She locked her fingers in his hair and moaned, drawing him closer and closer. The firestorm crackled and snapped, illuminating her kitchen with its fiery glow, touching her artwork with golden light. It drove every conscious thought from Niall's mind, incinerated every reservation, eliminated everything from his universe except the splendor of his mate.

  There was no pretense with Rox. No posturing, and no lies. She was what she was, and she was unafraid to show it.

  Even a dragon could learn from her courage.

  He didn't want to create a son. He didn't want to inflict the Pyr agenda on Rox, but he wanted to give her pleasure. More pleasure maybe than she'd ever known. He wanted to show her that trust was sometimes of merit.

  He wanted her to trust him.

  Niall bracketed her waist with his hands and pushed her pajama bottoms to the floor. "Not that," she protested, her words breathless.

  "Not that," Niall agreed, looking her in the eye. He smiled. "Something else. Trust me."

  It took her only a heartbeat to smile.

  That was all the encouragement Niall needed. He scooped Rox up, holding her in his arms while he kissed her again. When he was dizzy with desire, he put her on the counter, parted her knees, then bent to touch her with his tongue.

  Rox cried out and dug her nails into his shoulders. She locked her thighs around his head and Niall caught her butt in his hands. He lifted her to feast upon her, flicking his tongue so that the flames of the firestorm danced between them.

  Rox writhed. She was wet and he was hard.

  "Trust you," she muttered, her fingers locking into his hair. Her hips began to buck of their own accord. "Just don't stop."

  Niall didn't have any intention of stopping. As much as he wanted to prolong Rox's pleasure, he had a feeling she wouldn't last long. She moaned and twisted. He caressed her with sure strokes, alternating an aggressive tease with a touch as soft as a butterfly's wings. He let her pull away when she tried to evade him, loving that she kept sliding closer to him for more.

  He teased her and he touched her, and the firestorm crackled against the night. His heart thundered and he felt it match Rox's own pulse. They breathed in unison, moving as one, their passion kindling ever higher and hotter.

  When Rox came with a cry of delight, Niall barely restrained himself from joining her orgasmic cry.

  He should have known he couldn't have hidden his response from Rox. She reached down, her face flushed and her hair mussed, and unfastened his jeans. She caught his erection between her hands and caressed him boldly.

  Irresistible.

  He couldn't last. He didn't last. He
was overwhelmed too quickly, already on fire from giving her pleasure. Niall came with a roar, his seed spilling over her hands. He gripped the counter to catch his breath, as Rox regarded him with an impish smile.

  "Fireworks," she said, touching her finger to his shoulder. The spark flared between them and her smile broadened at the sight.

  "And that's not half of it," he managed to say. Their gazes locked, the air between them heating with the unspoken promise of the firestorm. Rox ran her tongue over her lips and Niall watched the gesture hungrily. He would have reached for her again, but a key turned audibly in the front door.

  They froze as one.

  Rox was in very deep trouble.

  Niall protected her. He was both a dragon and a hunk. He listened to her and changed his direction on the basis of her opinion if he agreed with her. But more than that, Niall wanted to give his brother a second chance, maybe another second chance, despite whatever he had done and what he had become.

  Because what she had said to him made sense.

  Rox already suspected that she could count on Niall, and that he would keep any promise he made. He'd given her pleasure without sex, and he would have denied himself if she hadn't intervened.

  This was the kind of man she'd always wanted to find.

  Never mind that he kissed well enough to make her forget everything she knew, every promise she'd made herself, and every vow she'd ever sworn. Never mind that he brought her to orgasm as if he had written the book on seduction.

  Rox could lose her heart to this Pyr warrior.

  With another guy, she might have thought he was just saying what he needed to say to win her agreement to have his child. But Rox already knew Niall wasn't that way.

  She was tempted, even knowing what she knew, to drag him into her room right that minute and spend the night making love to him. She was ready to know more about making love to a dragon dude, about what would certainly be the best sex ever. She was tempted to challenge this Pyr conviction of "first time every time" and just savor the pleasure once.

  Someone unlocked the door just in time to save Rox from her unreliable impulses. Niall spun at the sound, and Rox could see him shimmering blue around his perimeter. He was ready to defend her from anything or anyone.

  There was nothing to dislike about that.

  "Thorolf and Rafferty," he murmured.

  Rox washed her hands pronto. Niall was doing up his jeans with similar haste. She heard him take a steadying breath, then another, slower one for good measure. That shimmer faded to a faint gleam. She got her pajama bottoms on and her top buttoned just in time, the way he winked at her making her heart go thump.

  "Saved by the key," he murmured, and Rox bit back a smile.

  Thorolf appeared in the kitchen doorway then, his hair and shirt completely soaked. "Dude! It's, like, pissing out here. Can't we crash on the floor?"

  Rafferty was a dark shadow behind him.

  Rox didn't know what Niall intended to say, but she knew opportunity when she saw it. The presence of two other Pyr would ensure that she didn't lose her senses.

  Yet.

  "It's okay," Rox said, hearing her voice waver. "There's room."

  "It's up to Rox who she lets into her apartment," Niall said, his tone stern once again. "You should have knocked instead of using your key."

  "Relax!" Thorolf said. "It's not like you were doing it or anything."

  Rox felt her mouth fall open. Would the Pyr have been able to hear from the hall if she and Niall had been doing it? Niall gave her a glance, as if he'd guessed her thoughts. He nodded once and Rox resolved to be more careful around this bunch.

  Of course, the neighbors had probably heard her climax.

  Rox fought the urge to blush. Niall stood in front of her like a barricade, clearly unpersuaded that they needed company.

  Rafferty hesitated in the hall, waiting for an invite. "If this is a bad time . . ."

  Maybe his hearing was keen enough to sense nuance.

  "Would you prefer they went elsewhere?" Niall asked, his gaze flicking to her work. "It's up to you."

  Rox liked that he was protective of her privacy. "I don't think any of the Pyr are going to laugh at my paintings," she said, and beckoned to the two arrivals.

  "I knew I should have taken your keys," she said to Thorolf, "or changed the locks."

  The big Pyr grinned, unabashed, and jingled the keys. "Points for initiative, Niall?"

  Niall put out his hand in silent expectation.

  Thorolf looked between the two of them, sobered, then gave Niall the keys. Niall immediately surrendered them to Rox, and she appreciated his gallantry.

  Among other things.

  But she had to keep her reservations in mind so she wouldn't make an irrevocable mistake.

  Rox stepped past Niall, the sizzle of the firestorm diminishing as she put distance between them. "Couch or floor, that's your choice," she said to Thorolf.

  "What about the spare room?" Thorolf protested. "I like some privacy."

  "Privacy?" Niall echoed, his tone incredulous.

  The back of Thorolf's neck turned red.

  He had heard.

  "You moved out," Rox reminded him. "Niall can use the spare room." And that way there'd be a wall and a couple of doors between them. Every increment had to help.

  She smiled at Rafferty, who was listening avidly. "Please, come in. I should have thought to invite you sooner, but I wasn't thinking about the rain."

  Thorolf snorted and Niall gave him a killing look.

  "I don't want to impose," Rafferty said.

  "Two Pyr or three," Rox said with a smile. "It's a full house either way. And I kind of like the idea of having lots of good dragons around me when the shadow dragons are on the hunt."

  Rafferty stepped into the apartment and his eyes rounded with surprise at her art. Rox watched him look from drawing to drawing, his gaze flicking over the fresco of Thorolf, then back to the drawings again.

  "So I see," he murmured. Rafferty stepped toward one drawing with caution, as if he feared it might disappear before he could more closely examine it, and stood in silent awe for a long moment. "Marvelous," he said finally.

  Rox knew she'd made the right choice to let them in.

  Niall followed her from the kitchen. "I have to stay closer to you than the spare room. Maybe Rafferty could guard that flank." Rox didn't answer.

  Rafferty touched the R of Rox's signature, the glass over the drawing keeping his finger from touching the actual image. He turned to smile at Rox. "You are wondrously talented," he said, and there was no doubting his sincerity.

  "I thought I would hear old-speak from them," Niall agreed, and Rox felt her face heat.

  "It's just what I do," she said, flustered by their praise.

  "You could illustrate our history," Rafferty said, then eyed Niall. "If, of course, your firestorm became a permanent relationship."

  "I don't do permanence," Rox repeated. She then yawned elaborately, making an excuse to disappear. "Time for bed, guys." She felt Niall's gaze on her and doubted he was fooled by her performance. "You work out the sleeping arrangements yourselves. I've got to get some sleep."

  With that, she left them all in her living room, retreating to her own bedroom.

  Once inside, she turned the lock on the door. It didn't truly pose an obstacle to Niall, in either human or dragon form, but Rox knew he'd hear the lock turn. She wanted her message to be clear.

  She was going to sleep alone.

  Even if it felt like a stupid choice.

  Niall's decision was made.

  He'd seen Rox's mask slip, and he had glimpsed the vulnerability it protected. He'd heard her perspective and appreciated her intellect. He found her incredibly sexy, and he respected her advice.

  He thought about that broken heart tattooed on Rox's cheek and about the sweet fire of her kiss, and knew that resisting Rox's charms would be impossible.

  The firestorm was right.

  As it
always was. Niall sensed that Rox could help him avoid his father's errors and lead him to a new understanding of his nature. He knew Rox had wounds of her own in need of healing and he knew he could help.

  Niall knew they would be stronger together than apart.

  This firestorm was his destiny, and Rox was precisely the right mate for him.

  He still had two problems. The first was Rox herself. It was clear that she was disinclined to trust him. Yet. The second was his pervasive sense of being targeted, that awareness of Phelan lurking in the vicinity, that fear that he might not survive this quest.

  Niall suspected that trusting he had a future was a big part of ensuring it would be so. If he focused upon eliminating Rox's reservations while he continued his hunt for the shadow dragons, then he might win everything.

  He was also unlikely to get much sleep.

  He should be getting used to that.

  Niall watched Rox retreat to her room, knowing that she needed some distance but regretting her departure all the same. Niall's body demanded that he celebrate the power of life. He'd killed two shadow dragons on this night and fought another. He'd survived an assault on his home that had destroyed the building. He had a gash on his shoulder and a taste of his firestorm, and he instinctively wanted to spend the night making love to Rox over and over again.

  But Rox needed time.

  Niall would give it to her, at least as much of it as he could. He guessed that he could pursue her tonight, overwhelm her with the insistence of the firestorm, win the battle but lose the war. Niall didn't want a one-night stand or a son left without a father.

  He wanted more.

  So he had to bide his time. Niall settled in her living room, checked his e- mail and voice mail one more time, and thought about his mate all the while. He considered her reputation as Sister Rox, and her refusal to bring anyone home--with the exception of Pyr, like Thorolf and himself. No, with the exception of men she imagined might be the right match for her. She was a romantic, albeit one with barbed wire fences in self-defense.

  He thought about her love of dragons being founded in their ability to defend themselves against anyone, their lack of fear, and suspected he had found the shadow in her past that he needed to help banish. He thought about her passionate response to his touch, and he dared to hope she already believed in the firestorm.