Oceans of Fire (Drake Sisters 3)

Ignatev settled to the bottom of the cove in the middle of the kelp bed, taking his time with his aim. He knew Aleksandr had no hope of reaching him and there was a satisfying red stain growing in an ever-widening circle around the wounded man. As he raised the speargun, the ground buckled, shook, rippled in a series of small quakes that threw Ignatev to his knees. Sound carried through the water. Feminine voices rose in a melodic chant, the words foreign, but relentless, the volume rising and falling with the swell of the water. Each time Ignatev attempted to take aim, the ground rolled and heaved, throwing him forward onto his chest. He gripped the spear hard, silently cursing as the kelp tangled around his ankles and legs.

Aleksandr clawed his way through the kelp to try to reach Ignatev. Abigail was nearly on the man and, to his horror, Aleksandr could see Ignatev turning toward her. Ignatev was a big, strong man and he was skilled at killing. Aleksandr's arm lay leaden at his side, refusing to help propel him through the water. The kelp hampered his movements further. He called up every reserve of strength and determination he possessed, throwing himself forward to reach Ignatev.

Ignatev launched himself at Abigail, slamming into her as she reached for him, striking toward her head with his fist, the speargun still clenched tightly. She pulled her head back just in time and flicked her wrist over, slicing his arm with the blade of her knife. He whirled around, firing at Aleksandr, timing it just as his enemy was nearly on him. The spear caught Aleksandr low in the side, slicing through skin and muscle and bone, driving him back.

Abigail attacked again, coming in low and mean with her knife, catching Ignatev around the neck with her arm and slamming the small blade into his belly with as much force as she could muster.

He caught her wrist and tore the knife from her hand, stabbing at her several times as she tried to backpedal. The blade was small and the wounds were shallow, but Abigail felt the sting of each and knew she had very little time. As Ignatev loomed over her, arm raised, Aleksandr caught him from behind, spinning the man around and driving forward with all of his weight and strength, embedding the spearhead that had torn through his own shoulder, deep into Ignatev's throat.

There was one moment of shock, as if the ocean itself had ceased all movement. Abigail saw Aleksandr reach for her and then his arm dropped and the two bodies, held together by the spear, rolled to the ocean bottom.

Libby! Help me! Oh, God, Libby, I need you! Abigail screamed and screamed over and over in her mind for her sister. Raw pain clawed at her throat and belly as she tore the two bodies apart and hooked her arms under Aleksandr's shoulders. She was not telepathic, but her sisters were connected. They knew. They were aware. She began to drag Aleksandr through the water, rising toward the surface as she did so. It was impossible to fight the pull of the sea, drag his weight, and hold his regulator in place. It kept slipping out no matter how many times she tried to keep it in his mouth. She was closer to the shore than to the boat and in any case it didn't matter. He was bleeding out in spite of the cold water. And he was drowning, his lungs filling with water as she dragged his unconscious body to the beach.

Her sisters poured their strength into her, giving her aid even over the distance, all the while attempting to control the sea creatures scenting the blood in the water. It was a long battle, fighting the swells and trying to ride the waves in with Aleksandr in tow. Exhausted, terrified of losing Aleksandr, Abigail remembered, too late, the second man. The one who had gotten to the surface and was lying in wait. Her heart jumped, then began to pound out an alarm.

She found her feet, staggering as she dragged Aleksandr's dead weight to the wet sand. The man waited for her in complete confidence, a small, infuriating smile on his face. He watched her fight to get the body to higher ground. She dropped to her knees, fighting for breath, throwing off her mask and tearing off Aleksandr's, and placing both hands over his wounds. It was impossible to stem the flow of blood.

She put her lips against Aleksandr's ear. "Don't you leave me." She began CPR, willing him to breathe again, willing him to cough and get the seawater out of his lungs.

The man took a step toward her, drawing her attention. She glanced up to see him hold up a wicked-looking knife. He smiled as he took a second step toward her. The bullet hit before she heard the shot. It tore through the man's left eye, snapping his head back so that he crumpled like a rag doll.

Abigail put her head down on Aleksandr's chest briefly, then looked around her. "Prakenskii! Hurry up. He's dying. I can't heal him. My sisters are as exhausted as I am. I know you're there."

The wind touched her face. Her sisters. Always with her, as afraid for Aleksandr as she. "Please." She whispered it. "Please." She called it out as loud as she could, tears clogging her throat.

A single voice rose on the wings of the wind. Soft. Melodic. Alluring. Joley's voice was incredibly beautiful, a smoky blend of sensual persuasion and emotional outpouring. Her spell singing was mesmerizing and irresistible.

Prakenskii came out from behind the rocks, his gun already broken down. He sent it spinning out into the depths of the cove as he crossed the sand to Abigail's side. "It has to be bad for your sister to give me the path to trace her magic. Let me see."

"You have to help him." Abigail wiped at the tears streaming down her face. Her sisters' exhaustion weighed just as heavily on her as it did on them. She was drained of her physical strength. "I can't save him, but you can."

"If I do, I won't have the strength to get away from the police." Prakenskii should have been walking the other way fast, but instead he crouched down beside Aleksandr. "I tried to warn him. I did everything I could think of to keep him out of this. He's a stubborn son of a bitch."

"I know you can save him. I'll help. My sisters will help. And we'll throw up a cloak of protection between you and the police so you can slip away." She squared her shoulders. "I know you care about him. Save his life."

"You'll owe me. All of you will owe me. When I come back asking, I'll expect you to aid me."

Abigail nodded, unsure if she was making a deal with the devil, but uncaring. All that mattered was that Aleksandr live.

20

ALEKSANDR heard Abigail's voice calling to him. The door slammed downstairs. She called out a second time. He loved the sound of her voice calling out his name. There was such a note of eagerness, of joy, that warmed him.

There was always that moment on waking when he still believed he was in Russia, or somewhere in a bleak hotel, alone, without her. He still had nightmares of Abigail being slapped around and worse in Ignatev's interrogation room and he woke with sweat pouring out of him and her name echoing through the room.

He pressed his hand to his heart and stared out over the railing of the balcony to her beloved ocean. He had always been at home in the city with the crush of people, its strange beauty of light and buildings and the underbelly of deceit and crime. Her ocean soothed him and brought him peace. He suspected it was because he couldn't separate her love and need of the ocean, such an integral part of her personality, from Abigail.

"Where are you, Sasha?" There was a breathy catch in her voice.

He smiled at the note, that small sign of caring. "Out here, on the deck." She had moved in with him to take care of him once he was allowed out of the hospital and, although he was renting the beach house on a very temporary basis, Abigail made it feel like a home.

She raced through the open sliding glass door to his side. "You aren't supposed to be wandering around." She tried to sound severe but couldn't hide her relief at finding him settled in a chair.

"I wanted to look at the ocean." He laced his fingers through hers and brought her hand to his mouth to kiss the ring there. "I think the sound puts me to sleep. I dozed off like a two-year-old."

"You'll get your strength back. I know it's difficult for you to be patient. Libby says you're gaining ground every day."

"What about you?" He pushed her tank top up to examine the raw scars on her stomach. "What does she s

ay about you?"

Abigail leaned over to brush a kiss over his lips. "I'm fine. I told you I was perfectly fine. The stab wounds were shallow. I can have all the babies you want us to have. All two of them."

"At least seven. Elle's little girls have to have someone to play with." His hands caught at her waist and drew her forward so he could press small kisses against each shiny purplish mark marring her skin. "When I saw him going for you, I swear, Abbey, I never thought I could feel such rage or such fear." It had given him the necessary strength to slam his mortally wounded body so hard into Ignatev's, allowing him to kill the man. "I still don't know how you managed to get me out of the ocean."

"I wasn't going to lose you again." She said it matter-of-factly, cradling his head in her arms while he pressed another kiss into her intriguing belly button.

His grip tightened on her and he shifted her until she was standing wedged between his thighs. "Did Prakenskii really save my life?"

"You've asked me that three times. Without his help, you would have died right there. He shot the second man to keep him off of me and then he worked on you. He has all the gifts, no doubt about it, just as Elle does. He carries all the genetic code necessary to pass on each of the gifts to another generation. I wish we knew more about his background." She stepped closer to him, leaning into him because his tongue was doing a little dance along her belly button, teasing at the small gemstone there and making a foray lower.

Aleksandr unzipped her slacks, sliding them over the curve of her hip, down her thighs to her calves. She obligingly stepped out of her shoes and kicked the slacks aside. "Take off your top."

Abigail didn't hesitate, drawing the clingy material over her head and letting it drop to the deck.

"Let your hair down."

"You're definitely feeling stronger. You're turning bossy on me." She dragged the clip from her hair, allowing the mass of red hair to tumble free to her waist.

"I don't have much to do but think about you while I'm here all alone."

Abigail glanced at the tray beside the chair. "Aunt Carol was here."

"With her Reginald. They stayed a couple of hours. He's an interesting man."

She eyed the basket of fruit beside his chair. "Hannah stopped by, too, didn't she? And the magazines are from Joley. Kate must have brought the collection of books. I know Libby checked on you."

He smiled as his hands slid over her bare skin, shaping her hips. "Sarah and Damon stopped in as well. And Jonas." His smile widened to a boyish grin. "Inez and the Red Hat ladies came by and they left dinner in the fridge. They said just to heat it."

"When did you have time to think about me?" She shook back her hair, knowing he loved the feel and look of it.

"Every damn minute. And it was hell hiding my hard-on from everyone. I had to have a lap blanket. I dreamt of you, just like this, standing in front of me with your hair glowing like a halo in the sun. You are so damn beautiful."

"I think you're delirious. Maybe too much sun." But she couldn't help the lick of excitement and pleasure curling through her.

"You don't see yourself at all the way I see you." He leaned back in his chair and feasted his gaze on her. With the sun behind her, she looked more beautiful than ever. "I love you more than I can ever express, Abbey. Why is it I'm always feeling like you're slipping through my fingers and I can't quite catch you?"

"I have no idea." She perched on the edge of the hot tub in her black thong and bra, her skin pale looking rose petal soft. "You might remove the lap blanket so I can see what I'm getting myself into." Her shapely leg swung back and forth. "I dragged you out of the ocean and made a bargain with the devil to save your life. What more do you need me to do to show you I'm not going anywhere?"

"I'm not certain Prakenskii actually qualifies as a devil." Aleksandr threw off the blanket, revealing his nudity without a hint of modesty. "Jonas was very suspicious that you helped Ilya escape. He told me the footprints led into the sea, but it looked more like a setup than reality. Jonas questioned me again about it. Fortunately I was unconscious when Prakenskii was there, so I didn't have to lie."

"I didn't lie to Jonas," Abigail said, her gaze growing hotter as it dropped from his bandaged torso to his full groin. "I hope you kept that blanket over you when all your visitors were fussing over you."

"You told him Prakenskii was long gone, that he saved your life and then mine."

"Which was the absolute truth." She dropped to her knees in front of him. "I love the way you miss me, Sasha." She cupped his aching sac in her palm, fingers caressing the base of his shaft. "You always make me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful."

"And that you need me desperately."

"I do need you desperately." He closed his eyes at the sheer pleasure coursing through his body at her touch. She had magic fingers. A magic mouth and body. And when she was touching him the way she was now, she made him feel as if she loved him more than anything in the world.

"I want to make love to you properly," he said, looking down at the top of her head. Her hair shone, a vibrant red that never failed to make him want to touch the silky strands. He wrapped his fist in the mass. "I want to be inside you, Abigail."

"You're so impatient." Her tongue flicked out, her warm breath engulfing him.

Aleksandr trailed his fingers over her breast. He smiled when she shivered in reaction. "When are you going to marry me?"

"I thought we agreed we wouldn't talk about marriage when we were making love." She teased him with a gentle scrape of her teeth, another slow lick of her tongue. "We agreed it was unfair to cheat like that."

"No, we didn't. I want to get married immediately." He nearly came out of the chair as her hot mouth closed over him and she sucked, flicking her tongue back and forth. "Immediately."

Abigail laughed, the sound vibrating right through his heavy erection and sending waves of pleasure rolling through his belly. "I couldn't possibly marry you until my parents come home. They'd never forgive me."

"You're enjoying the fact that I'm supposed to let you do anything you want to me and I can't retaliate, aren't you?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she said, lifting her head, eyes dancing, her grin wide. "I love this."

"I have news for you, baushki-bau, I am feeling quite strong again."

She laughed again and flicked her tongue back and forth, hot little licks that sent electricity sizzling through his veins. "I don't think so."

"I do. Come here." He gripped her waist in strong hands and tugged.

Abigail made a face at him. "You're spoiling all my fun."

"Not all." His hand cupped her fiery curls over the black satin. His fingers dipped into soft, moist folds. "I don't think we need this." He dragged the thong from her body and tossed it somewhere behind him. "Straddle me, Abbey. I have to be inside you right now. I can't wait another day. Not another minute."

Abigail circled his neck with her arms, careful not to lean against his bandages as she widened her stance to straddle his thighs and with deliberate slow motion, settled her body over his.

Aleksandr threw back his head as the pleasure poured over him. She sank down so slow, her sheath, a tight hot fist, her folds velvet soft, gripping him as he pushed his way deeper and deeper inside of her. His breath left his lungs in a gasp of pleasure. Joining with Abigail was unlike anything else. The sweet, hot rush, the addiction of her body, the way she moved in perfect rhythm, no matter how hard, how fast, or how slow he went. He always felt as if he'd crawled inside her skin and found paradise.

"I love how you always want me, Abbey. Do you have any idea what a gift that is to a man?"

Her fingers caressed the hair on his neck. "Do you have any idea what a gift it is to have a man look at me the way you do?" She rode his body with a slow, easy glide, covering him inch by slow, excruciating inch, heightening his pleasure, ever careful of his wounds. She rose away from him, gripping with her muscles, creating friction that robbed him of breath.  "I know what I feel every time you touch me, rebyonak, each time you walk through the door and your eyes light up when you see me." His hands pinned her hips with unexpected strength, fingers digging into her, holding her still as he thrust hard and deep and fast.

Abigail cried out, unable to stop herself, the pleasure bone deep, tightening every muscle in her body. It was always the same with Aleksandr. She started out in control and he took it away with his body filling hers and bringing her such ecstasy she thought she might shatter into a million pieces. He held her still while he began to surge into her with sure hard strokes, her body pulsing around his, melting into intense heat and with mind-numbing, clawing desire ripping through her until she was chanting his name.

She wanted release. She needed release. She was right there, right on the edge, so close she could feel every muscle tighten in anticipation. In need. But it never quite came. She knew he shouldn't be exerting so much energy but she found herself pleading with him anyway. He was killing her, forcing her to wait. Holding her right on the edge of the precipice.

"Promise me."

"Promise you what?" She could hardly think with her body wound so tight, crying out for release. "Sasha! What do you want?" She moved her hips urgently, trying to force him to give her relief.

"Promise you'll marry me as soon as your parents return."

She was nearly sobbing with pleasure. "You're killing me. I can't take any more. I thought you were at death's door."

"You thought wrong." He moved again, a long slow glide driving deep into her, and pulled back, holding her hips so she couldn't follow him down. "When your parents come back you will marry me. Say it."

"Fine. Anything. I promise. You are such a dictator." She wasn't about to tell him her parents wouldn't be home until her sisters' double wedding and that was several months away. Her body was shuddering with the need for release and she deliberately tightened her muscles around him as he surged into her again, desperate for relief.