Drina stared back, lifting first one booted foot and then the other so he could remove the delicate cloth. He tossed it on her growing pile of clothes and moved his mouth to the skin above her other boot, this time licking along the rim to the inside of her thigh, his head forcing her legs farther apart before his mouth began to travel up.
"Harper," she gasped, grabbing for his head as her legs began to tremble. He braced her with his hands at the backs of her thighs, using his hold to urge her legs even wider to allow his lips to travel farther up until he reached what he was searching for. The moment his mouth closed over her most tender spot, she cried out and threw her head back, damned near knocking herself out when it slammed into the wall.
Stars danced behind her closed eyes, but she didn't get the chance to worry overmuch about it; Harper was pushing everything away with his actions, driving everything but pleasure from her mind and building the pressure until she was nearly sobbing with need.
Drina was teetering on the edge, wave after wave rolling through her and pushing at her when he suddenly straightened in front of her.
She blinked her eyes opened and peered at him, then grabbed for his shoulders when he suddenly caught her behind the legs and raised and spread them as he had in the alley. Pinning her against the wall with his body, Harper urged her to wrap her legs around his hips.
Instinct alone had Drina obeying the silent order. Certainly, she wasn't capable of much in the way of thought. Her eyes slid past his shoulder to find their image in the mirror, and she saw that his coat jacket was gone, his shirt untucked, and his suit pants hanging low on his hips. She wondered when he'd removed the jacket and undone the pants, but then he was sliding into her, and she just didn't care.
Drina cried out and closed her eyes, no longer interested in watching . . . or anything else outside of the force building inside her. The world could have crumbled and fallen away around them, and she wouldn't have cared as he pounded into her, sending wave after irresistible wave of unbearable passion searing through her body and brain until it exploded bright and hot in her mind. It then receded, leaving darkness.
Drina woke to find herself sprawled naked in the silk sheets of a king-sized bed and alone. Sitting up, she peered around the darkened room, making out furniture, blackout blinds, and several doors, but no Harper.
Frowning, she slid her feet to the floor and stood up. She started toward the nearest door, hoping it led somewhere besides a closet, but stumbled on something on the floor and paused to glance down at her boots. She stared at them blankly for a moment, some part of her brain working out that Harper must have removed them for her while she was unconscious, and then continued forward again.
The first door she tried was an en suite bathroom. The second was a closet, but the third led out into a hall, and she padded down it on silent, bare feet, only pausing when it ended at a set of four steps down into a large open living room. Eyebrows climbing up her forehead, she ran her eyes over the huge fireplace, the elegant black and white furnishings, and the wall of windows that surely stretched fifteen or twenty feet to the ceiling at one end of the room. That's where her gaze stopped.
Harper stood in the center of the wall of windows, dressed in his shirt and pants, staring out over the lights of the city. She would have bet a lot of money that he wasn't seeing anything outside, however. There was a moroseness about his pose and expression that convinced her he was lost in thoughts, and not pleasant ones.
"We're life mates."
Drina stiffened at the grim announcement. Apparently, he'd heard her approach despite her silence. Or perhaps he'd simply seen her, she realized as she spotted her reflection in the glass. And then his words sank in.
Crap. He knew.
Of course, she supposed she should have expected as much. As it was fabled, life mates did apparently faint after sex. No doubt he had too, though it appeared he'd recovered more swiftly than she had. And she'd obviously been deep in it. He'd not only carried her to bed but tugged those boots off without her stirring. She'd been out like a light.
Sighing, Drina continued forward, crossing the room toward him. "Most people would be happy about it."
"I am," he said, and she snorted in disbelief.
"You don't sound happy," she pointed out, pausing beside him and considering his face. "And you definitely don't look happy."
"Did you know?" Harper asked.
Drina turned to peer out the window. "Yes. I tried to read you the night we met, and then there was the eating and . . ." She shrugged.
"And you didn't say anything."
Drina sighed. "Marguerite said you might have some trouble accepting it, and it was better to let you figure it out on your own."
"Marguerite," he muttered wryly.
"She said you feel guilty about Jenny's death and have been punishing yourself."
"It was my fault," Harper said wearily.
"I know you feel that way, but-"
"It's true," he barked. "If she'd never met me, she'd still be alive."
"Or she might have had a heart attack jogging. I mean, it was her heart that gave out, wasn't it? Some unknown defect she had?"
"Still, it was the turn that-"
"Harper, I do understand," Drina interrupted quietly, and he turned on her sharply.