her arms to her hands, lifting them to press kisses to her palms. “Help me, Rana,” he whispered through a throat gone tight and dry. “I need...”
She pulled away, and he nearly howled with disappointment. Then she reached up, framing his cheeks with her kind, healing hands. A small smile eased some of the pain in her eyes. “If you have a need, I will provide.”
His eyes slid closed. Blessed Anubis, he didn’t deserve her. It didn’t stop him from wanting her. He doubted that anything could.
As gently as he could, he lay her back against the pillows, then quickly undressed. Her beautiful face still bore the evidence of her tears. His first mission was to remove all traces of her sorrow, sorrow he’d caused her.
“I’m sorry for your tears,” he whispered, placing soft kisses on her eyelids. “I’m sorry I made you cry.” He kissed her lips from the outside in, as soft and gentle as he could. She’d always given him softness—the least he could do was try to return the favor. “I’m sorry I don’t know how to be anything other than I am. But I want to try. For you.”
“Hector.” A sob caught in her throat as she opened for him, inviting him in.
“You tie me in knots,” he continued, his hips moving, seeking all the ways to give her pleasure. “You consume my thoughts and invade my dreams. Your scent fills my lungs and soothes my soul. And this.”
He thrust against her, causing them both to groan. A slow glide out and a slower glide back left them shivering with want. “This proves to me that paradise is real.”
“Oh, Hector.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she wrapped her legs around his waist, clutching at his shoulders while meeting his thrusts with frenzied movements. All his attempts at gentility vanished in the face of her ferocity. Lifting her ankles to his shoulders, he drove into her with the same wild desperation she gave to him. All the while she sobbed his name, part plea, part apology. When they came it was together, an outpouring that broke him apart and took everything he had.
Until she slid down his body moments later, taking him into the hot depths of her mouth and demanding another offering. He gave it to her, shuddering, her name a hoarse gasp on his lips.
With the last of his strength, he pulled her against his chest, wiping her remaining tears away. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Hector,” she whispered as sleep beckoned. “I hope you forgive me one day.”
“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured on a yawn. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
In the morning he discovered how wrong he was.
Chapter Eight
At precisely ten the next morning, Rana joined Markus, Tia and Hector in the jackal leader’s office. Too keyed up to sit, Rana stood beside the upholstered guest chair, a twin to the one Hector sat in. Markus and Tia sat together on the oxblood leather couch, both their expressions full of calm expectation. Then again, they thought they knew what this conversation would be about. Hector didn’t. She could feel his gaze fixed on her. Concern filled his eyes, concern and something she didn’t dare name and claim.
She remembered the beautiful words he’d given her last night, the attempted healing she’d given him. A precious moment she would always cherish, because she’d never have another with Hector again.
Rana smoothed her hands down her skirt. She’d donned her ceremonial robes for this meeting, deliberately positioning herself as other. She needed the physical reminder of who she truly was, what she had come here to do. “Won’t you sit, Rana?” Tia asked, her voice so kind it almost cracked Rana’s resolve. Tia looked tired. So did Markus, and she wondered if they’d expended too much magic trying to save Peter. She didn’t know what the jackals did with their dead. She only knew from Inari that Markus, Tia and two other jackals had come for the body and taken it away. With Anubis as their patron she assumed they didn’t cremate their