Waterfall(18)

“Wait!”

He turned back. She stood in a protective stance with her arms folded over the swell of her breasts. “What do you know of me being on the beach?”

He smiled. “That is an interesting story and one I will tell you tomorrow. The night grows late.”

“I…” She glanced to the door and back to him. “All right.”

“Sweet dreams, Celeste.” His mate’s name meant heaven. A smile curved his lips. Heaven, indeed.

He stepped back into the tub with a splash. The Zir’s town residence had a fountain in the garden. The image filled his mind, the room blurred, and then he stood in the water of the fountain. What a capital new skill that was. He stepped from the fountain onto the cold stone path to the back stairs.

Her marriage to Hudson was an issue, but one that would be overcome on the morrow. He would see to it.

What had happened with that bird, and both of their visions, had to do with the Zir birth. He was certain of it. He simply needed to figure out what they told of.





Celeste stood against the wall in the same spot where Jordan had left her. She couldn’t move. Her heart pinched. Her entire being ached for Jordan to return to her. For him never to leave her side. Yet the consequences of this match screamed for her to use her head. Lord, what a mess. She held in a nervous laugh, and her breath hitched.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked up at the ceiling. She was married to Hudson. She shook her head, and her lip trembled. All that came with that fact could not deny that Jordan had just thoroughly taken her. Their connection was undeniable. But was it more than a simple base need he stirred in her? He wished to court her and make things correct in her family’s eyes, but would he love her? Would she love him?

He was unlike any man she had known or would ever know again. She could not deny that.

She inhaled deep, closed her eyes, then stared back at the white wood door. Would Hudson still be in her bed when she opened that door?

Guilt sliced through her. What would she do then? Would she tell the man she married not a day before he could not have his rights again? That certainly would not go well. But what if the vision she’d glimpsed of the man standing in the bath chamber was of him?

She stared at the door so hard that her vision wavered.

If it was he, then he knew of her betrayal.





Chapter Four

Celeste’s hand shook as she reached for the knob to her bedchamber. She inhaled deep, again. Where was that voice that had urged her on? She could use a little fortitude, even if that strength came from a woman named Carmen, whom only Celeste could hear. “Carmen.” She gripped the cool metal handle. “Carmen. Give me strength.” Her heart hammered in her chest.

She pushed the handle down and slowly inched the door ajar. She couldn’t look. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when her arm extended full out, she opened them. The room before her stood dark. All the candles had guttered, and a strange acidic scent burned the hairs on the inside of her nostrils. Her nose twitched, and she raised her hand to hold in a sneeze. The skin on the side of her neck heated and tingled. She brushed the spot with her fingertips. Jordan’s bite.

Think of…Jordan.

“Mmmm.”

She flinched and turned toward the noise.

Cloth rustled from the direction of the bed. Her heartbeat seized in her throat, and a humming cut all other sound to her ears. She squinted in the dim light.

No one was there. And Hudson was not beneath the sheets.

She bit her lip, let out a heavy breath, and closed her eyes. Thank the stars!

But what was that noise?

Her heart sank, and she rushed forward. The bed linen still lay rumpled. Her hands shook, and she slid her fingers along the empty sheet. Pinpricks shot up her fingertips to her spine.

Hudson knew. With absolutely nothing to base the conclusion on, she was sure he knew what had happened in the bath. She had not literally seen him, but she knew there was no doubt. Her knees trembled, and she clutched the tall bed baluster and leaned against the cool, carved wood. Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades and between her breasts.

She sat on the edge of the bed and fisted her hands in her lap, then squeezed her eyes shut. How could she be so certain of that, simply from entering her bedchamber? If the unsettling feeling in her gut were true, what would she say to Hudson?

Flap-flap-flap.

She surged to her feet. “Who is there?”

The rustling of cloth came again from by the window. Her heart lodged in her throat, and she stared in that direction. The curtain fluttered and moved, although there was no wind. Someone was there. “Show yourself. You are in my bedchamber.”

“Nothing here is yours.” Hudson’s voice came from behind her.