by J. S. Scott
“I can see beneath the sheet. But I have to stop if you tell me to. I can’t invade your privacy if you ask me to stop. Not without paying the price for doing so. And I’m not crazy. Much.” Daric sat up, and the covers slid precariously lower, stopping just short of his groin. “I didn’t realize you still suffered from your previous accident. Your leg still pains you.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Hannah gasped and turned her back to him.
“That’s a nice view too.” His voice held a trace of laughter.
Surreal thoughts ran around in her head, fantasy ideas that Mr. Massive really could see her naked body. “Stop. Stop it. You can’t convince me that you can actually see me. But if you can, stop it right now. I don’t like it. It’s intrusive.” Had she really just said that? For God’s sake, she was going to be losing her mind along with him in a moment.
He took your clothes off. He saw your leg. He absolutely cannot see your body through this heavy cotton.
“Actually, I can. But I’ve stopped. You’re correct. It’s rude.”
She turned, giving him the evil eye . “Are you trying to convince me that you can read my mind now?” Hannah wasn’t sure what other parlor tricks the man was capable of, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. This was all getting just a little too strange for her. “Where are my clothes?” I need to get the hell out of here!
Hannah limped around the bed, her leg aching more than usual, probably from the stress of the accident. Damn it! Ignoring Daric, she looked under the bed, nearly groaning from the pain as she stretched the muscles in her thigh.
Daric stood, his movement so fast that his form was momentarily blurred.
“I’m a vampire prince. I can read the mind of any being with less power than I have, and since I have more power than any other life form on earth, I can read the thoughts of any living individual, mortal or immortal.” He spoke with such command, such confidence, that it made Hannah pause.
Admittedly, the guy emanated power, an enormous amount of strength. She peered up at him, knowing she should be terrified, but she wasn’t. Her core flooded with heat as she sighed inwardly at his sharp features and implacable expression, a man so strong that he made her want to sink into his body, be safe in his embrace.
He’s a lunatic. He could hurt you. Have some sense of self-preservation, Hannah. Run. Get away.
“I would never harm you, Hannah. You’re my mate.” His voice was low, seductive, and gentle for a man who could crush her dead with very little effort. Daric cupped her cheek in one of his enormous hands, his dark eyes glowing with an almost eerie light.
Hannah shivered as his hand ran down her neck and to her exposed left arm. She knew she should move, leave, but she couldn’t. Her body was momentarily paralyzed, hypnotized by the feel of his fiery hand on her skin.
Caressing her rather large birthmark, he said in a graveled voice, “You wear my mark.” He ran his right index finger over her left upper arm, an area that she had always tried to hide because of the blotch marring her skin that had been present since her birth. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a birthmark,” she whispered, her voice failing her because she was caught up in some sort of magic, some kind of enthrallment.
“It is my marking. You belong to me.” He put his left arm around her hips, pulling back enough to hold his right arm out from his body.
Hannah gasped, starring fixedly at his forearm. Dear God! He had the same birthmark. Exactly the same. Except his was sharper, and…glowing.
“Yours looks exactly the same as mine now. It glows and shimmers, the image more pronounced.”
She backed away from him, tugging to get free. Stumbling slightly, she escaped because he allowed it, moving until she hit the wall near the door, her face an expression of both horror and astonishment.
This is not possible. He can’t be reading my mind. We can’t have the exact same mark. He isn’t a vampire. Vampires don’t exist. They don’t. They’re a damn myth. Dracula exists only in fiction, movies and books.
Daric prowled after her, moving like a tiger stalking prey. For a large man, he was graceful, stealthy.
“Gah…of course there’s no Dracula. Ridiculous legend, and the books and movies are an insult to all vampires. So much fucking drama that it’s nauseating. You’re in pain. Let me help you.”
“Stay away from me.” She lifted a hand, trying to keep him at arm’s length as he moved closer.
“I can’t,” he replied, moving close enough to take her extended hand in his and place it on his chest as he pinned her against the wall.
Hannah was enveloped in his heat, surrounded by his strength. Involuntarily, her palm opened over his chest, stroking the hot skin that stretched over his massive chest. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” she whispered in a shaky voice, her whole world turned upside down by her reaction to this man, a man who should have had her running from the house screaming, even though they were in the middle of a blizzard.
“You will. I know you’re confused right now.” His lips nuzzled her temple, and slowly moved lower, savoring the sensitive skin of her neck.
Her neck arched, giving him access, letting him have anything that he wanted. It was as if her body had completely disconnected from her mind, from her common sense. What if he wants my blood? He thinks he’s a vampire.
“I’ve already sampled, and although it’s a tempting thought, it’s too soon. And I am a vampire healer,” he rumbled against her skin, his voice amused.
Kiss me. Touch me. Take me. Please. The simple contact of Daric’s warm lips against Hannah’s flesh heated her entire body. “How in the hell do you do that?” How is he getting into my thoughts?
As he moved lower, his mouth sliding sensually over the swell of her breasts, she stopped really caring about anything except those roving lips and his pulsating heat surrounding her.
She shivered as his left hand snaked into the sheet, searching for the opening. Quickly finding what he was seeking, his left hand slipped between the folds of fabric, moving possessively over her right hip. He dropped to one knee in front of her.
Hannah looked down at him through a sensual fog, her body vibrating with need. Daric’s eyes were closed, his hand moving over her leg, causing heat to rush through every nerve, muscle and bone in her thigh and knee.
It was over in seconds. Daric rose gracefully to his feet, leaned into her body and murmured into her ear in a husky voice, “I couldn’t decide whether to kiss you or heal you. My healing instinct, the compulsion to heal my mate was stronger. But now I can finally do this.”
Hannah decided, as his mouth claimed hers, that no one would ever claim Daric Carvillius was timid. He seized exactly what he wanted, and, at that moment, he apparently wanted her. Desperately.
He commanded…and she surrendered, unable to resist him, unable to deny him anything as he swooped down on her like a conquering hero, his kiss branding her, owning her. His tongue didn’t explore…it demanded she yield, sweeping through her mouth with so much surging power that he stole her breath along with her will.
Hannah’s arms curled around his neck, trying to get closer, melting into his powerful body as he mastered her with his mouth. Again and again. Over and over. Until she was nearly as insane as he, her body shaking like a lone leaf fluttering in a strong breeze.
Daric ended the scorching embrace abruptly, wrenching his mouth from hers as though the separation was painful. Hannah was panting, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs as she looked up at his face.
Sweat coated his skin, and his chest was heaving. He speared her with a hot, possessive look that made her respond instantaneously, every atom in her body reaching out for him, needing him with an intensity that was tormenting.
“I feel the same, Hannah. But you aren’t ready.” His voice was gruff, and filled with longing.
She wanted to scream that she was ready, that she needed him. But was it the truth, or just her body’s reaction to him? She was so o
verwhelmed that she didn’t know. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t understand any of this.” She sounded lost, and she felt the same way.
Daric stepped back clothing them both in jeans and a t-shirt. Hannah jumped in fright as the apparel appeared magically on her body. “Cripes. Could you warn me before you do something like that?” Her body was trembling, a delayed reaction from the entire day.
The accident. Clothes appearing out of nowhere. The matching marks. A man professing that he was a vampire. And worst of all, the sense that he really could read her thoughts, see through her clothing. Everything that was happening was all so…not normal.
He grinned, a small smile that lit up his rugged face. “Sorry. It’s normal for me.”
Hannah felt refreshed as she looked down on her casual attire. “I feel like I just showered and dressed.”
His smile grew broader. “You did.”
She pushed on his chest, needing to move away from his beckoning heat, the temptation of that seductive smile. “Do you know how hard this is to believe? Vampires are myth. They aren’t real, Daric.” Frustrated, she started pacing the room.
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “We are very real. Humans are on a need-to-know awareness of our existence. And almost all of them don’t need to know the truth. Could you imagine the reaction and outright hysteria that would occur if they did?” He emitted a heavy sigh and leaned against the wall, watching her.
Hannah stopped abruptly, realizing that her leg had stopped aching. Gingerly, she tested the limb, stretching it more and more in the absence of pain. What the hell? Clenching her thigh, she couldn’t feel the ridges of her scars. Frantically, she moved her hand over her knee…feeling…absolutely nothing. She bent her leg up, kicked it back, and it reacted perfectly. “Oh, my God. You did heal me.” She hopped up and down in delight, cautiously at first, and then dancing in circles as her leg responded to her every command. “I can move. I can bend. I don’t limp.” This isn’t possible. Daric couldn’t have done this. But, he obviously had. There was no other explanation.
“Don’t even think about going back to that asshole again,” he growled, coming toward her with purpose.
“Who?” she asked, genuinely confused as she watched his approach. He was scowling at her, his fierce expression making him look like a barbarian in human clothing.
“Your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Mark,” he grumbled as he stopped in front of her.
“How do you know about him?” Hannah looked up at him in startled surprise.
“There’s nothing I don’t know about you, Hannah. Nothing I haven’t experienced. I accidentally absorbed your memories while I was trying to heal your head injury.”
Hannah gawked at him. “How?” Her brain on overload, she added quickly, “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know right now.” Hell, she was still trying to absorb the fact the he had apparently healed an injury that wasn’t completely reversible by any human physician.
“You won’t go back to him now that I’ve healed you,” Daric stated bluntly, his dark eyes boring into hers. “He wasn’t worthy of you.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. And I agree. He is an asshole,” she answered, distracted by the way he was championing her, defending her. It had been so long since anyone had come to her defense. “What did you mean when you said you had sampled me?” she asked, suddenly remembering his strange comment.
“I took your blood in order to heal you. I had to. I had no choice.” For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. “All vampire healers hate to feed, to take blood. I shouldn’t have let my distaste interfere with my common sense. I was too weak to heal you without feeding.”
Hannah’s hand flew to her neck. “You took my blood?” She ran her hand over her neck, feeling for any evidence that he had punctured her skin.
“You really think I would leave a mark unless I wanted to?” He lifted an eyebrow, giving her a haughty glance.
Pulling her hand from her neck, she rolled her eyes. Of course he wouldn’t. If he was capable of healing head injuries and miracle healing, he wasn’t going to leave simple puncture marks behind. “Oh hell. I need a drink. Maybe more than one.” Or maybe a bottle of whiskey without the glass. She wasn’t really much of a drinker, but this night wasn’t exactly ordinary, and the thought of something to calm her unsteady nerves was becoming a very welcome idea.
“Come. You will eat first. And then I’ll let you sample some of my wine collection,” he held his hand out to her, palm up, waiting for her to accept it.
Hannah knew it was more than a simple gesture; it was an entreaty of sorts, his way of asking her to trust him.
The space around them was electric, the air vibrating with energy. And Hannah knew it was him, his vitality, his power.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she lifted a trembling hand, placing it into the warmth of his palm. His fingers closed around it immediately, securely, enveloping her cold fingers, warming them almost instantly.
Hell, he hasn’t killed me yet. I don’t suppose it’s on his agenda.
Daric smirked, shooting her an amused glance that roamed her entire body. “It’s not on my schedule for tonight, no.”
Thank God!
He closed his eyes briefly, his brows drawing together as though he were in pain.
“Are you all right?” she asked him anxiously, moving closer and placing a hand on his cheek.
Daric grimaced, bringing his hand up to cover hers. “Fine,” he grunted, opening his eyes, the pain seemingly gone.
“What happened? Are you sick?” Scanning his face, Hannah looked for signs of illness, concerned that he might be getting the flu or some other virus that seemed to be running rampant at this time of year.
“No. I was paying for a little indiscretion,” he told her unhappily, his voice disgruntled.
“You were trying to strip me again, weren’t you? Wow. That’s a pretty awesome control system. So if I don’t like something, all I have to do is say so?” Maybe she could just mention the fact that she didn’t want him reading her thoughts.
“Don’t even try it. As your mate I’m entitled to read your thoughts. And I did strip you and took a very long look. If I’m going to pay for it, I might as well make it worth it. I wanted to see the lingerie I conjured for you.” He shot her a wolfish grin, looking totally remorseless.
Hannah had no doubt that at least the panties were scandalous. And damn uncomfortable. She could feel the butt floss up her rear, letting her know, without seeing the underwear, that she was wearing a thong.
Daric laughed…a low, throaty, sexy sound that sent a jolt of happiness through Hannah. Instinctively, she knew it wasn’t something Daric did often.
Squeezing her hand, he pulled her body into his and the two of them disappeared, leaving the room abandoned in a heartbeat.
Hannah squealed in alarm.
And Daric laughed harder.
Then, the room was silent.
Chapter 4
Reject her. Do it. Reject her right fucking now, before you aren’t able to do it.
Daric watched his mate as she consumed one of the chocolate desserts from her own restaurant, nearly groaning as her tongue snaked out of her mouth to catch a drop of chocolate that had landed on her luscious lips instead of inside her mouth. Christ! He could think of a lot of things he could do with that mouth, places he was obsessed with having her tongue lick over, all of them located on his overheated, eager body.
Reject. Now.
He watched her eyes close with enjoyment, a look of pleasure on her face that made him envious, wishing it had been he who had put such a look on her beautiful face.
It’s been hours. Refuse her and get it over with.
Jerking his eyes away from her, he stared at the wall behind her, trying not to let his gaze stray back to Hannah, who was sitting in front of the fireplace, her face flushed and pink from the warmth of the mammoth fire he had started several hours ago.
He’d rescue
d his food order from her truck with a mental command, heating it to the appropriate temperature, trying to stuff food in his face in an effort to stop himself from nibbling on her. They had been talking for hours, and Daric believed she was finally convinced of the truth. He hadn’t held back, knowing time was short, and that she needed to know all of the facts.
Not if you’re going to reject her, asshole. Just do it.
He shook his head, his gaze straying back to her face.
Mine.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know that he needed to reject her, or even that he didn’t want a mate. Hannah deserved better. He had felt her emotions, relived her life experiences. Hell, he was an asshole, a prince who hadn’t really had any significant communication with a female in over a thousand years. He was a cantankerous, irritable, ancient bastard who didn’t know a thing about tenderness or the gentle nature of a female. What in the hell would he even do with a woman of Hannah’s kind nature?
Keep her. Brand her as mine. Keep her safe forever.
Daric’s cock pulsated at the thought of taking Hannah as his, making her moan with pleasure as he took her. Both of them were experiencing the mating compulsion, the need to join as one, his need, his desire, feeding hers. The response of her body was merely a small reaction in comparison to his raging desire, his need so strong that it was all he could do to stop himself from touching her. He had seated himself away from her, on the other side of fireplace, the massive pile of food between them. Not that the paltry distance would stop him from falling on her like a wild animal that needed its mate, but it did give him an instant to think about it. The problem was, his need would only get stronger. As a royal, he was given time to court a woman before the full mating force hit him. A week. Maybe a little more, maybe slightly less. Much depended on how connected he became to Hannah.
Fuck! If this is the prelude, I sure as hell don’t want the full experience. It sucks!
“So how does this rejection happen?” Hannah questioned in a hesitant voice, as she stared down at the glass of wine that she held cradled between her delicate hands.