“We really need to talk about your definition of the truth,” I said, and at the same time, a part of me realized that I was just as bad when it came to Jasmine. But to protect her, I told that part, and tried to ignore how it whispered bullshit back at me.

“Now, children, no quarreling,” Father Oliver chided.

Adrian snorted. “I’m over a hundred and forty years old, and you’re calling me a child?”

The priest waved a hand. “Then act your age.” With that, he left, almost skipping with glee over his errand.

Adrian locked the door behind him, leaning against it once he turned around.

“Now what?” I asked, feeling tired for real now.

Adrian glanced up at the ceiling. “Now I show you the place I briefly called home.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I’D WONDERED WHY the ceiling of the chapel was so low in comparison with its high, sloped roof. Now I knew. The upstairs had been converted into a large loft, and as a security measure, almost no one else could see it.

“Zach glamoured this so that it’s only visible to Judians, Davidians and Archons,” Adrian explained, leading me up the sharply winding staircase. “Everyone else who walks into the chapel sees a ceiling that goes all the way up to the rafters, and where you see the staircase, they see the sacristy.”

“Nice,” I said, meaning more than the glamour acting as a security system. The loft extended the length of the chapel, and it was furnished with butter-soft leather couches, a TV, several bookshelves, a claw-foot tub and bathroom fixtures, and a bed that looked to be covered in silk. The walls and ceiling were all dark, paneled wood, giving it a warm, cozy atmosphere. Up here, I could almost forget there was a secret crypt beneath the chapel that caged a very dangerous, very mouthy demon, and I wanted to forget that. In fact, I wanted to forget every terrible or destined thing that had been weighing on me for the past several months and just be a plain, normal girl, even if only for an hour or so.

“Not like what I’d picture you to live in, though,” I added, thinking of the sapphire-colored castle in his luxurious, frightening former realm.

Adrian’s smile had a self-deprecating slant. “Took a while to get used to, but it also reinforced my decision every time I looked around. The old Adrian would’ve never lived here. The person I chose to become was glad for the peace that this place brought, even if that peace came in small, plain packaging.”

Then he drew me into his arms. “That’s why I sent the rest of them away and brought you up here,” he murmured. “You need to stop thinking about everything that demon said and find your own peace. So, for the rest of the evening, there’s no destiny you need to fulfill, no brave mask you need to put on and no one you have to try to save. There’s only a hot bath, a bottle of wine and a massage that’ll make your body feel like it floated away.”

It was exactly what I’d been thinking, and his knowing I needed that made it resonate all the more. All of it sounded so good, a soft moan escaped me. Adrian chuckled, tilting my head back.

“Save those for the massage. I expect to hear a lot more of them once my hands are all over you.”

He laughed again at my sharp intake of breath, his light brush of lips more of a tease than a kiss. Then, with a final wink, he walked away.

I waited until he descended the staircase to start my bath, adding some shampoo to the running tap so there’d be bubbles. Then I took my clothes off and sank into the tub. It was obviously built for a person Adrian’s size, which meant that I could fully stretch out without touching either end of it. Instead, I floated in the hot, bubbly water, closing my eyes and letting out a sigh as I slowly, slowly started to relax.

“Here.”

His voice made my eyelids fly open again. A half-full wineglass suspended over me was the first thing I saw, but instead of taking it, my hands flew to cover certain parts of me. Adrian’s low chuckle brought a flush to my cheeks.

“I’ve seen you naked before, Ivy. Don’t you remember?”

“That was my top half only!”

“Besides, those bubbles are very concealing,” he went on, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Go on, drink your wine, and I’ll get started on your massage.”

“Now?” I burst out.

Another chuckle slid along my senses with its own caress. “Of course. Nothing is more soothing than a hot water massage, especially with a glass of wine.”

“Adrian...” I couldn’t begin to articulate all the reasons why this was a bad idea, so I settled on the most obvious. “There’s no way I’ll be able to relax with me being naked and you—you not being blind.”

His brow arched. “Is that your only objection?”

With that, he set the wineglass down and went into the bedroom portion of the loft. After rummaging through a drawer for a moment, he came back with a long, black piece of fabric that I told myself was a man’s tie because any other option sent my mind straight to places it shouldn’t go.

Then, his mouth still curled in a grin that was part amused, part dangerously sensual, he tied the fabric over his eyes, covering them completely.

“There,” he said, voice low and throaty. “Now I’m blind.”

I should still tell him to leave. I really, really should. But, somehow, the words stuck in my throat. Maybe what I needed was some wine to get them out. I reached over the side of the tub, grabbed the glass with a soapy hand and drained most of it, all the while unable to tear my eyes away from him.

Adrian walked over to the tub, his steps never hesitating. Was that because of how well he knew the loft’s layout, or because he could still see? My mouth felt like it went dry, so I finished the wine and pressed the glass into his hand. He took it from me and poured another, not spilling a drop. Were his senses that sharp? Or was the blindfold somehow see-through? This time, my hand shook a little as I accepted it. Another swallow later, and I put it down.

“Lay back, Ivy.”

He seemed to be staring right at me as he said it, although that black swath of fabric was still covering his eyes. I repeated to myself that this was a bad idea even as I did what he said. Adrian went around to the back of the tub, kneeling so that he had better access. Then his hands settled on my shoulders and he began to rub in firm, duplicate patterns that found my tenseness and relentlessly coaxed it into lessening.

Oh, the feel of those strong, smooth strokes on my skin! They were blissful, soothing and enticing all at the same time. A soft sound escaped me, not a sigh, not a moan. Something else.

After several more minutes of that pleasurable attention, his thumbs slid up, kneading my neck while his fingers and palms continued to do truly wonderful things to my shoulders. Unbidden, I squirmed to give him better access, and that slight movement shifted the water around me, causing the hidden waves to stroke me in much more intimate places.

“Your skin is so soft,” Adrian breathed, brushing my neck with his lips for the briefest moment before leaning back. “I can’t get enough of touching you.”

Then his hands went lower, massaging the length of my back with strong, supple movements. They skillfully manipulated my tendons and muscles, played along my rib cage like piano keys, and teased my spine with short, hard little pinches that had me arching in bliss. Water rippled over me with every shift of his hands, and sometimes, his mouth skipped across my flesh, vanishing before I could savor the feel of it, and replaced by more deep, soothing circles.

Whether it was the wine or the drug-like effects of his touch, my upper body began to feel as if had been replaced with melted caramel. Even my arms were limp after he’d rubbed them from fingers to shoulders. Each breath filled my lungs with warm, humid air and my eyelids felt heavy, but I kept them open. Water had spilled over him from his movements, highlighting his muscles more clearly than oil, and watching his hands move over me was as mesmerizing as it was arousing.

“Do you know how much I love touching you this way?”

His thick, growled voice made gooseflesh race over me even though I was submerged in hot water. In reply, I parted my lips and tilted my head up. He leaned forward until his mouth grazed mine, and a low laugh teased my lips.

“Did you want something else, Ivy?”




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