Raintree: Oracle (Raintree 4)

Unfortunately, Ryder was right about one thing. He needed every power he possessed to win in a battle against the coming invasion. Dark and light. The Ansara had never been known for fighting fair. She wished she could see more of the future, that she could bring on one of the visions she’d been trying so hard to shake for good.

As they climbed the stairs to his living quarters—she right behind him, he not looking back—Ryder told her, in the crudest terms possible, what he would do to her if she was foolish enough to crawl into bed with him. Her quick response was a simple “Fine.” If she ran now, if she allowed him to scare her away, the man she loved would truly be lost.

And so would she. He needed her, but this was not a one-sided relationship. She needed him, too. All her life she’d been lost, in one way or another. She’d been dissatisfied with her lot in life, rootless, wandering. For as long as she could remember she’d been searching for a better place, a better life. Now she understood that her better life was here.

He didn’t bother to switch on the light, but it wasn’t necessary. Bright moonlight shone through the window. There were shadows here, but not complete darkness. She could see him; he could see her.

By the side of his bed, Echo calmly removed her clothes. All of them. Ryder, standing just a few feet away, watched closely. Eyes dark, hands clenched, he tensed. He remained at war with himself, a war that seemed to cause him physical pain as well as mental anguish. She supposed that would continue until one side or another won. Until he was her Ryder again, or...the other.

She wanted her Ryder back, no matter what the cost.

When she was naked she looked at him. And waited. Eyes never leaving her, he removed his own clothes methodically and tossed them aside. His body was fine, and even in the midst of crisis she could appreciate it. The length, the shape, the muscles, even the erection, which told her that no matter what he said he did want her. Physically, at least.

He took a few steps to join her, wrapped his strong arms around her and without warning threw her onto the bed. She bounced, and then surprised him with a laugh. There wasn’t much light in the room, but there was enough for her to see the shifting emotions on his face.

“Maybe I don’t want you anymore,” he said. “I’m sick and tired of you and your problems and your cloying, needy obsession.”

She ignored his words and pointed. “You don’t look like you’re tired of me.”

“Any woman would do,” he said as he crawled into the bed, spread her thighs and touched her.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered as he thrust into her.

His emotions battled even as he made love to her. She felt it all when he was inside her. Hot and cold, love and hate, power and loss. Most of all, she felt the pain this war within him brought to life. Not physical pain, but a pain of the soul. A pain of the heart. She soothed him with her body, with her hands in his hair, with the love he refused to acknowledge. Soon he slowed his movements, he relaxed. He flowed into and out of her in an almost dreamlike way that was more than she could bear. This was beauty amid darkness, pleasure amid pain. She didn’t want it to end.

As long as they were together, truly together, the darkness could not win. She wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t. In this place, in this time, joined body and soul, there was no room for evil. It was pushed aside, shoved into a small dark corner where it was forced to cower, to wait. For a while, at least, for a few precious minutes, he was her Ryder. A man who loved his family, his people and her.

Stay with me forever.

I don’t know that I can...

As long as they could stay here, stay connected, remain one, he was safe. She was safe. But he began to move faster and so did she. Bodies ruled, not brains

and hearts.

It had to end, her body and his insisted.

Echo was in the stone circle; she was in his bed; she was nowhere and everywhere. He filled her, stroked her, brought her to a beautiful edge where she stayed as long as she could. As long as her body would allow. She crested, cried out, held on while the orgasm racked her body. Ryder was right behind her.

And at the moment it was Ryder. Her Ryder.

“I still love you,” she whispered.

“For God’s sake, stop it.”

“Stop loving you or just stop saying it?”

“Both.” He rolled away.

“No on both counts,” she said as she left the bed and headed for the bathroom. She cleaned herself with a warm washcloth, returned to the bed and crawled beneath the covers beside Ryder. When he turned away from her she curled up against his back searching for warmth and connection. Her fingers danced along his spine.

There would be no more snow, not on her account. It was time for her to be strong, to stick to her guns. She knew what she wanted, what she’d been searching for all her life, and she wasn’t about to walk away.

“Go home,” Ryder insisted in a low, gruff voice.

Echo answered honestly, and in a tone that left no room for argument.

“I am home.”