“Even if you had the money, Cavitto wouldn’t let you live,” Valentin said, and Amorette stiffen with an almost tangible panic.
“Don’t worry.” He cupped her cheek, unable to keep his skin from hers any longer. “No one will ever touch you again. I’ll keep you safe.”
“My family? Doug?”
“Your family is safe, I swear it, but Doug? I’ve heard of Cavitto. He isn’t a man you cross. He isn’t a man you survive. Your boyfriend is either already dead or well on his way.”
“Ex,” she said forcefully. “He’s my ex. He did nothing when they pointed a gun at my face. I don’t want him to die, but he can rot in Hell for sacrificing me to them.”
“Trust me, he will,” Valentin growled. “They all will.” He stood up and slung his bow across his back, eyes not missing how Amorette tracked his movements appreciatively. “I could help you get the money, but you’ve seen him. You know his face and name and could identify him to the police,” he continued. “Cavitto can’t afford loose ends. The authorities don’t know whohe is, and that he personally showed this morning up means your ex was in deep. This is more than just some stolen money, and he only let you leave because you were guarded. Perhaps he needed you absent while he dealt with sensitive issues. Either way, he will kill you. The only difference is if you return willingly, he might not go after your family.”
“What do I do?” Fear clogged her voice, and Valentin lunged for her, cupping her jaw in his broad hands.
“What do we do?” he corrected.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked, her fingers unconsciously coming up to cup his. “You barely spoke more than ten words at a time to me. Why do you care?”
“Because I don’t need words to pass between us to know I would sacrifice the world for you.”
Amorette stared at Valentin, his confession ringing too loud. Who was this warrior that captured her heart with a single look, who promised her the world without asking anything in return? Why did life feel right in his presence, despite it crumbling down around her?
“Cavitto is one of America’s most wanted,” he said, and Amorette wondered if he realized his thumb was rubbing her cheek as he spoke. “My kind doesn’t get involved in the personal, day-to-day affairs of humans, but I’m making an exception for you. The only way to stop him from harming you is to kill him or hand him over to the authorities.”
“Your kind?” That comment was the least shocking thing he’d said, but Amorette’s panicked brain kept fixating on those damn pointed ears.
“I’m a…” He paused, as if searching for the best words to explain himself.
“Just say it,” she blurted. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m terrified for my life, and I just watched you shoot someone through the heart with a barbaric golden weapon. You’re dressed in a tactical outfit I know for a fact you didn’t have on when you first walked through my doors. What’s going on? Why am I not afraid of you?”
“Because deep down you feel this.” His hand drifted down her throat to rest over her thundering heart. “I can’t explain it, but it drew me to you week after week. It won’t let me stay away.” His face lowered until his lips hovered inches from hers. “You know I would never harm you.”
“What are you?” she whispered, her breath hitching as his broad hand pressed against her racing heart, his long fingers brushing the swell of her breast. She wanted to know what he was, needed to understand why her soul begged her to close the distance and capture his bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’m Fae.” His face moved closer to hers, and she gasped as his pinky brushed her bare skin at his movement. “I am the reincarnation of Cupid.”
“Cupid?” The haze of lust cleared, and she jerked to a stand so fast, the chair tipped backward and crashed to the floor. “Screw you. I told you everything. I was honest, placing my trust in you, and you make up a ridiculous story about being a mythological cherub? God, I’ve had enough of men today.”
She turned and stormed for the door. She was smart, and Cavitto didn’t know Derrick was dead yet. Perhaps she could get her parents out of town before he found them.
“Amorette.” Her name on his tongue was more decadent than chocolate, and in two steps he captured her waist and spun her around. Her chest slapped his as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, and she didn’t miss how his gaze dipped longingly to her mouth. “Please,” he begged, restraining her against his forged body like a lover and not a captive. “Look deep within yourself. You know I speak the truth. I am Cupid, but I’m no childlike cherub. My arrows don’t deliver obsession, but protect true emotions. I am the defender of love and romance. I don’t shoot mortals with magic and force them to feel, but I spend my every waking hour defending the sacred bond between two souls that have intertwined to become one.”
Amorette stared up at him, her heart thundering viciously as if it was trying to break free of her chest and embed itself in his. She couldn’t think this close to him. The world faded away. Her problems vanished. All that existed was this Adonis and the adoration in his eyes, the magnetic lust braiding them together, the unspoken connection stitching them ever closer from the moment their skin touched.
“You know I speak the truth.” He placed his hand over her heart again, and she gasped as his palm burned her alive with desire. Her nipples pebbled, and she arched her back slightly, leaning into his touch. “You can feel it.” He leaned in, hunger dancing in his irises as his hand consumed her flushed chest.
“I do.” She nodded, and somehow it wasn’t a lie. It was impossible. There was no such thing as cupid or the Fae. Yet as his aura intertwined with hers, wrapping them in an unexplainable bond, she recognized every word that fell from his perfect lips as the truth. “I can’t explain it, but I believe you.”
“Then let me help you,” he begged, and while he meant with Cavitto, she couldn’t stop herself from picturing a different kind of help. One that left her naked and screaming as his ice-blond head buried between her thighs.
“Give me your blessing,” Valentin whispered, his lips hovering just out of reach. “And I will hunt down your enemies and make them regret the day they learned the name Amorette Ellis.”
Cupid? The hulking warrior whose beauty rivaled the angels themselves was Cupid? The man who had shot a human in her café with a brutal bow and arrow was Cupid? Amorette’s mind was chaos as they drove to Doug’s apartment. Since Cavitto and his men knew her car, they took his vehicle, and she’d almost laughed when she saw the gorgeous bike. A warrior dressed in black atop a steed of metal and chrome wielding a golden weapon. The sight of his long legs straddling the large bike as he waited for her to climb on was too much for her brain to handle.
Riding behind him through the cool morning air only heightened the intense sensations racing over her skin. She understood why he’d been so careful to avoid touching her these past eight months. Their contact was unnatural in its electricity. Amorette had never experienced such raw and unbridled power in a touch before, and while the cynic told her it was merely his supernatural abilities causing this reaction, her intuition screamed that was a lie.
Before they left the café, Valentin helped her board up the cracked front door. He had made a call afterward to ensure the back room would be purged of evidence. They hadn’t spoken since, yet Amorette felt comfortable in the silence. His quiet presence wrapped her in a safe cocoon, and they were speeding down the street before she realized she’d just willingly mounted a motorcycle with a man who claimed to be Cupid. She should be terrified, concerned about his sanity, but hugging him tightto her chest was like waking for the first time. Something inside her was clicking into place, forcing her overstimulated brain to confront what her intuition already knew. This man was dangerous, the wrath of the gods fueling his forged body, but her trust in him wasn’t born of trauma or fear. It was born of her own blood, a part of her since she drew her first breath.
Amorette was thankful when they finally pulled up to Doug’s building. She wasn’t sure she would survive another second pressed against Valentin’s broad back, feeling the way his muscles coiled against her stomach. He’d guided the motorcycle through the streets as if he was conducting an orchestra, his every move executed with precision and grace. He handled the bike like a work of art, his biceps straining as he weaved through traffic with the ease of a stunt driver. His powerful thighs tensed with each bend in the road, and the momentum forced her smaller body flush against him. His abs flexed beneath her fingertips, and she had to fight the urge to picture her nails digging into his bare skin.
