Anew: Book One: Awakened Read Online Free Page B

are approaching the small pavilion where I awoke. The
floating bed sways in a sultry breeze that carries a hint of the tropics. Far
off to the south, lightning flashes.
    Ian pauses, one hand still firmly holding mine, and with the
other gestures toward the dark expanse of forest and mountains beyond.
    “We’re in upstate New York, about two hundred miles north of
Manhattan,” he says.
    I recognize the name of the island enclave that is home to
the world’s elite and those who serve them, a city equally of soaring glass
towers and heights of privilege unimaginable to the vast majority of people who
are kept well away from it.
    Manhattan and the handful of other places like it are where
the business of the world is done. All the rest--parliaments and congresses,
the media, even the ritual of elections--are a distant second. If I have ever
been there, I don’t know it.
    “Do you live there as well?” I ask.
    He looks down at me, his eyes inscrutable in the darkness
that surrounds us. “I keep an apartment in the firm’s Manhattan headquarters.
When I’m not travelling, I’m usually there.”
    “But not now?”
    He hesitates a moment before he says, “I thought you would
be more comfortable here.” His tone turns rueful. “Now I’m wondering if I was
right. You aren’t at all what I expected.”
    Before I can ask what he means, he brushes a finger over my
lips, a feathery touch but commanding all the same. “No more questions, not
tonight.”
    My breath quickens. His gaze is so intense! For a moment he
looks not quite so formidable, more young and even a little confused.
    That vanishes as he moves the hand he still holds behind my
back and joins it to my other. His fingers curl around both my wrists, securing
them. His other hand grasps my hip, drawing me to him. I am suddenly, vividly
aware of how aroused he is.
    And of the effect that has on me. I do…do not…do…want this,
want him, want…
    “Don’t,” I murmur but it comes out as little more than a
moan.
    He stands perfectly still except for his hands. They both
entwine with mine, our fingers meshing. There is something in this, some
combination of his dominance and our mutual need, that draws a carnal response
from me. To my embarrassment, my hips begin to sway, rotating against him.
    He makes a guttural sound and without breaking the contact
between us, bends me backward so that my throat is bared to him.
    “Ian…” His name is a sigh, a whisper in the dark, a prayer.
I want…the caress of his lips, the sharp quick pain of his teeth, the heat of
his breath marking me. Want, becoming desire, threatening to ignite a wildfire
reflected in the searing heat of his gaze.
    The first rumble of thunder comes over the mountains. A few
steps from us, the floating bed sways again in the night breeze. He thrusts a
muscled thigh between my own and pulls me upright so that I am crushed against
him, our mouths almost touching, our bodies--
    Suddenly, his features tighten, his mouth narrowing to a hard
line. As though the admission is dragged from him, he says, “This is insane. I
don’t lose control like this, not ever.”
    Without warning, his hold on my wrists turns punitive. I cry
out and in the next instant am free. He walks a short distance away, thrusts
both his hands through his hair in a gesture of… Frustration? Disgust? Anger?
At me? At himself.
    He turns to look at me where I stand, panting more than
breathing.
    My eyes flit to the bed. For an instant, I see us entwined
there, his far larger and more powerful body arching over mine, driving into
me, both of us lost in the pounding rhythm of--
    He follows the direction of my gaze and his body flexes, as
though drawn into my own vision of us, helpless to deny me.
    But only for a moment. In a visible exercise of his will, he
takes control of himself and of the situation.
    Harshly, he says, “Go to bed, Amelia. I want you clear
headed in the morning.”
    So that I will be better able to accept what he