After several minutes of kicking and scratching, she began to wear down. He let her go at him for as long as it took. He knew what this was like-this pain, fear, and confusion, not knowing who or what you were or whether you could control your impulses.
Been there, done that.
He finally turned her around and pulled her back against his chest, crouching down so she could catch her breath. With his free hand he pulled her hair away from her face. She was dragging in air, shallow and fast.
“Slow down, Isabelle.”
“I feel sick,” she said, her voice hoarse as she wheezed in and out.
“You’re breathing too fast. You need to bring it down.” He breathed with her, loud enough so she could hear his rhythm. She sucked in air, then blew it out, taking it down a notch, trying to match him. “That’s it. In and out, slow and easy.”
When he had her calmed, he stood and lifted her out of the mud and carried her to the bank, then sat and placed her on his lap. She laid her head against his chest, her palm there, too. He felt his heart beating against her hand and closed his eyes, just … absorbing her.
What was he going to do with her? How was he going to help her?
“I can’t do this, Dalton.”
He stroked her mud covered hair. “Yeah, you can.”
She pushed back and looked at him. Her face was a ragged mess of tears, caked mud, and agony. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what I did, what I could do.”
“Yes, I do. And you won’t.”
She shook her head. There was a sadness in her eyes he wanted to obliterate, to make her realize she could change who and what she was.
If he could, anyone could. But he couldn’t tell her that. Not yet. Not when she was so raw. She wouldn’t believe him, wouldn’t understand. And he wasn’t ready.
“They’re getting stronger.” She pushed away, stood, and turned to face him. “I can’t fight them if they take over when I’m sleeping. Or if the demon part of me does.”
He didn’t make a move, just sat on the hill watching her. “You didn’t kill me, Isabelle.”
“I could have.”
“If the demon side of you was so strong, it would have latched on to Tase’s suggestion, found me, and fired. But you fought him and he had to manipulate you to win. You know what that signals to me? Hesitation. Internal battle. The human side of you warring with the demon side. If the demon side of you had taken over, you’d have pointed that laser and fired without a second’s hesitation.”
She flinched at that.
“But you didn’t. You held it there and did nothing until you thought you were hitting Tase with that laser. Your human side is winning this battle, Isabelle. Have any demons attacked since we’ve been here?”
“No.”
“That’s because they don’t know where we are. They can’t fix a signal on you because you won’t let them. You’re stronger than they are. You have more fight and determination in you than you think. Maybe it’s time you start believing in yourself.”
“I can’t.”
She looked so damned defeated, her chin tucked down on her chest, her arms wrapped tight around her middle. It was goddamned infuriating. “Why is it so hard? I believe in you. You’re here because I believed you could be saved.”
Her head snapped up. “Why? Why do you think that?”
He shrugged. “Because I know how strong you are. I saw it in Italy. Your determination, your refusal to quit despite insurmountable odds. Where did that Isabelle go?”
“I don’t know.”
He stood, went to her, lifted her chin so she was forced to look at him. “I want that Isabelle back. Fight for her.”
“I don’t know if I can. I’m afraid, Dalton. I’ve never been afraid before, and I hate this feeling. What if I lose myself? What if I hurt someone?”
“I won’t let it happen.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
He could do more than she thought. “No, I can’t, but I can help you if you let me. I won’t let them get to you. I won’t let the demon inside you take over. I won’t lose you.”
She grasped his arms, laid her forehead against his chest. “I don’t want to lose you, either. I’ve never allowed myself to care about anyone before.” She tilted her head back and looked at him, her eyes clear and guileless. “I care about you. I have all these feelings rolling around inside me, and they’re all centered around you. I think that scares me most of all.”
He sucked in a breath and held it. This was the worst thing that could have happened. He shouldn’t want Isabelle to care for him. But he did. Because he had feelings for her, too. Feelings he had no business having. Not with what needed to happen between them.
Talk about lousy timing. The cosmos had a warped sense of humor sometimes. He tilted his head back and stared up into the heavens, wondering if after all this time he’d found love, only to have to make the biggest sacrifice of all.
He looked down at Isabelle, and everything else went away. He didn’t care that they stood in the middle of the swamp, that it was night, that he should get them both back to the house.
“I don’t ever want you to be afraid to care about me.” He pulled her against him and pressed his lips to hers.
She let out a soft sigh, her lips opening under his. He tasted mud, and smiled against her mouth as he pressed more firmly, sliding his tongue inside to lick against hers. He wanted-no, demanded that she be his. He wouldn’t take anything less.
Something about Isabelle always called to the more dominant, darker side of himself. He stopped questioning it, stopped fighting it, and let it take over.
This bayou, where secrets hid and darkness lived, was the perfect place. He held her and dropped down on the mossy bank, pulling her on top of him, needing to feel the full length of her body stretched out over his. She moaned against him, splayed her hands over his chest as she wriggled into position on top of him, then pulled her mouth from his to stare down at him.
She had the face of an angel, and when her lips curled, the smile of the devil himself. Wicked, tempting him to want things he knew he shouldn’t.
He wanted them anyway.
“I’m covered in mud,” she said, rocking her pelvis against his cock.
“I don’t care. Undress.”
She cocked a brow. “Demanding, aren’t you?”
He tightened his fingers around her hips. “Not much patience. Do it.”
She pushed up into a sitting position, smiling down at him. “You sure change personalities in a hurry, Dalton.” She teased him by taking her time, reaching for the bottom of her tank top and slowly baring her stomach as she lifted it. “Sweet and oh, so gentle one minute, harsh and gruff the next.”
His fingers bit into the fabric of her shorts as he waited, fast losing tolerance. “You gonna do it or am I going to have to do it for you?”
She had started to lift the shirt, but she paused. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like it slower, more like a strip tease?”
“I’m warning you, Isabelle.”
She laughed, the darkness of it so erotic he felt it in his balls, tightening them as if she had squeezed them with her hands. He lifted, arching up against her.
Her eyes darkened. “Okay then, faster it is.”
She pulled off her top and tossed it onto the hill. Her breasts were bare and he reached for them, sliding his palms over her nipples. The feel of the metal piercing her nipples never failed to excite him. Her nipples were hot to the touch and already hard as she leaned into his hands and whimpered.