Then, he was back at her side and gently running a moist washcloth over her body. Sara sighed, contented.
No...the word is “sated.”
And that is exactly what she felt. Sara was satisfied beyond anything she could have ever dreamed.
She looked down at the arms once more wrapped around her and this time she was sure of it. The tattoos had somehow faded while, at the same time, Braze had become more tender as he touched her. Gentler, as he had made love to her.
Almost simultaneously, they sighed then laughed quietly at themselves.
“You should try to talk to him,” Sara murmured to the man holding her.
This time, Braze sighed alone.
“I don’t know him anymore, Sara. I was only six years old when...when we were separated.”
“You mean when you were both told the other one was dead,” she replied, wondering to herself how any father could have done such a thing to his own sons.
“It doesn’t matter, Braze. He’s your brother, after all.” Sara tried not to sound too overbearing, but the two men had barely spoken a word between them since leaving the château.
“Half brother,” Braze said, “And, I will speak with him. In time. But for now, allow me to bask in the calm I feel at the moment.”
He nuzzled into her hair and kissed the nape of her neck, then said, “I don’t understand how or why, but since Clement’s arrival, I have known my first real peace in over five years.
“You must understand...I would go to that restaurant in search of silence, and then later, I went there because of you. But, now, I find it here, of all places, and to say that it is greatly desirable is saying too little.”
Braze had gone back to speaking in his strange, riddling way. As always, Sara had the feeling that he was speaking of two things at once, and the meaning on the surface was not the important one.
The mere idea of it, going to a crowded, noisy restaurant in search of calm, was preposterous when he had at his disposal an entire skyscraper with any number of empty offices behind armored glass windows and sound proofed walls. What he was saying made no sense, and not for the first time, Sara felt that this was a man living in a rarefied environment that lesser mortals simply could not understand. Not anymore than they understand the lives of fish living so deeply under the sea that the immense pressures would crush any normal living creature.
Will I ever understand this man?
Sara knew, though, that it did not matter. Understanding him, or not, she had given herself over to him in every sense of the word.
“Go to him in my place, Sara. Show him what it is that I see in you.”
Braze kissed her shoulder then moved to her jawline.
“Let him tell you how he came to find me...and why. Above all, why. And, I shall take some time for myself and sleep a dreamless sleep where voices do not come to speak in the words of the dead.”
Cryptic as ever, Braze released her and Sara got to her feet and started gathering up her clothes.
“Fine. I’ll go have a chat with Clement, but you had better come out and join in once you’ve had your quiet time.”
She turned to look at him, waiting for yet another puzzling remark from the enigmatic man. Instead, his eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of a man well and truly at peace.
Sara smiled, looking down at him as she dressed, then tiptoed from the room.
He was turned in his seat, looking through the small window of the private jet, apparently lost in thought as he contemplated the same cottony clouds that had made Sara smile earlier.
His hair was longer than it should have been and was drawn back into a haphazard pony tail that barely tamed his wild appearance. One leg stretched out straight while the other was bent at the knee and Sara imagined it was because he still wore the short sword he had brandished in the dungeons of the château.
“Can I join you?” she asked, standing next to the seat that faced his.
The grey eyed man did not speak, only barely nodding his head while still watching the outside world fly by.
Sara sat. She interlaced her fingers and did her best to refrain from tapping her foot.
She did not want to admit it, but being seated next to yet another Abraxis made her nervous.
Sara cleared her throat, about to say the first thing that came to mind when he stirred.
“Does he know you’re being followed?” Steel grey eyes shifted to lock onto Sara’s own and suddenly it was just like that of Braze. Intense, penetrating, except that where the wolf threatened to burn in focused heat, these grey eyes menaced to freeze Sara where she was. Cold, like ice so deeply buried it had turned argent and blue.
“I’m sorry...what?” she replied.
Without wavering, his eyes held her.