“Again,” she asked, “why?” She just couldn’t understand why anyone would think she was special. She didn’t feel special. She felt just like plain old Abigail Montgomery. So what if she was part fey. It wasn’t as if she had ever shown any special powers or anything. Although, now that she thought back, she couldn’t remember ever being ill as a child. No mumps, measles or such, she had never so much as had a cold that she could remember. So what? It didn’t mean anything – did it?
Desmond stopped in front of her and leaned down, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly and she could feel the tension crackling around him. His mouth was but a hairs breath away from hers and she could taste the wonderfully spicy scent of him when she quietly gasped at his sudden closeness. “Your blood, Abby,” he whispered fiercely.
“My… blood?” She repeated softly, her mouth suddenly going completely dry.
“Abby, you are the only link to a most powerful king -whose blood held great power, and legend implies that if such a powerful ruler were ever to fall in love and pro-create with a human…” he paused, his eyes locking and holding hers. “Their blood would be invaluable.”
“So these demons want my blood?” she questioned, shaking her head in disbelief. It was shock enough to discover that her father – a man that she had never even met - was king of the Fey, but because of this - demons wanted her blood. Her freaking blood! “This is completely insane. I mean – how did they discover that I even exist?”
Desmond shook his head in frustration, his eyes snapping fire. “I don’t know, but that is something that I intend to find out,” he promised solemnly. Suddenly her eyes widened as a thought hit her.
“Desmond, do you think that’s why my mother moved us around so much? That she knew I was in danger?”
“It’s quite possible,” he replied honestly. Abby found herself wondering if her mother’s accident had been an accident at all and her eyes locked with Desmond’s. She couldn’t let him risk his life for her. She wouldn’t!
“Desmond,” She whispered, placing her hand on his arm. She felt him tense slightly at her touch and silently wondered why. Did her touch annoy him? She removed her hand from his arm and sighed. “You don’t even know me,” she said softly. “I can’t let you put yourself in danger for me.”
His hand came up and cupped her chin, his gaze locking and holding hers. “I can and I will,” he breathed- his eyes holding hers for a long, earth shattering moment before he leaned in and lightly feathered his full, perfect lips across hers. Abby felt a heat shoot through her that sent a wave of pleasure across her entire body in a rushing onslaught of sensation. It was as if she had been struck by lightning. The feel of his full, perfect mouth on hers was like nothing she had ever felt before. My God, she thought - it was mind blowing! And when his tongue ever so gently swept across her lips, urging them to open for him, she was sure she would combust. Never had a kiss felt so all-consuming and erotic. Cripes!
She complied with his silent demand and their tongues met in a tantalizing game of tag – swirling and meshing together in a heated promise and Abby couldn’t help the moan that escaped her. This was beyond anything she had ever experienced before. It was earth-shattering! Desmond leaned in closer to Abby as his kiss deepened with the need coursing through his body. Never before had he felt such utter desire sweep over him and his only thought was that he couldn’t get close enough to her. He tilted his head slightly so that he could delve deeper into her sweet mouth as his hand came up to cradle the back of her head. He was suddenly aflame with the deep need to possess and claim, and he felt his fangs descend slightly. Willing them back with every ounce of willpower that he had - he plunged deeper into her honeyed sweetness– a groan coming from him.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a deep, husky voice broke through and Desmond swiftly took a step away from her.
“What is it Marcus?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge of what she believed was anger.
“I really need to speak with you Des,” the lumbering man said from the doorway. Abby’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of Desmond’s brother - he was a huge hulk of a man with deep brown wavy hair and twinkling brown eyes the color of fine milk chocolate - so different from the muscular, dark - utterly delectable brother of his.
He graced Abby with a friendly smile and winked. “So, I finally get to meet the mysterious woman that my ornery brother has kept squirreled away from me.” He walked over to her and extended his hand, which Abby swore was the size of a small ham. “I’m Marcus.”
Abby’s tiny hand was lost in his massive one - but his hold was surprisingly gentle. “Abby,” she replied with a smile, instantly warming to Desmond’s brother. He had the ultimate teddy bear thing going on and exuded an aura of warmth and trust that she found compelling. It was as if he were instantly a protective big brother.
“Wow, you really are a stunner.” He said, his eyes scanning every inch of her. Abby thought she heard Desmond growl softly but quickly dismissed it as her imagination. “My brother wouldn’t let me near you,” he explained with a grin. “Now I can see why.”
“What is it that you need Marcus,” Desmond bit out - the tension in his voice permeating the room like a toxic cloud.
Desmond glared at his brother, his entire body rigid at the close scrutiny in which Marcus was devoting to Abby’s considerable assets. A possessiveness was washing over him that he was far from comfortable with and because of it, his mood only darkened.
Marcus gave his brother a mischievous smile and shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly. “I have some information for you. I figured you would want to hear it as soon as possible.”
“Whatever you have to say, you may say it in front of Abby.”
Marcus looked at his brother in shock, his mouth falling open. “She knows everything?” He asked, completely taken aback. Desmond was a very private man - always had been, and for him to have shared everything with this beautiful little sprite was a shock to say the least. “About us? About…everything?” He questioned, still not quite believing what he was hearing.
Desmond nodded curtly, his eyes still fixed on Abby - and Marcus couldn’t help but notice her cheeks flush as her eyes met his brothers- which only caused his smile to widen. By the look of things when he had walked into the room, the two were getting quite close.
“And you haven’t run screaming from the house?” Marcus asked, his mouth set in a grin much like his brothers - but one that didn’t leave her short of breath as Desmond’s did. Marcus was extremely handsome, but he definitely was not Desmond. She didn’t feel that magnetic pull that she felt when she was near his brother, and she frowned slightly as the thought that her theory that his effect on her was just a vampire thing was completely blown out of the water. No, it was definitely just Desmond who did that to her.
“I haven’t felt the need to as of yet,” she said as sweetly as possible, “but the night is still young.”
Marcus burst out laughing. “Yes, I can see how you would feel like that. My brother can be quite dark and brooding – he’s a real joy to be around, believe me. I swear- he gives even the scariest of trolls’ nightmares.”
“Good Lord,” Abby replied, groaning over dramatically - only to burst out into a beautiful, light, musical laughter a moment later that caused a tingling to run up Desmond’s spine and he clenched his fists at his sides. Not liking the effect this woman had on him at all. He was a killer for Christ’s sake! Yet whenever he was near her – his body cried out for release. Shit!
“You mean to tell me that there are trolls running around out in the world too? Wow, I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. What’s next, bigfoot?”
“Don’t worry, there aren’t any bigfoot in the area,” Marcus said, returning her laughter whole-heartedly. “And as for the trolls, well, Des has pretty much scared most of the really nasty ones away with his smile and winning personality.”
“Marcus,” Desmond ground out, the playful banter betwee
n the two was causing him to feel…what?
He took a deep breath that he didn’t even need and questioned - was he jealous? He angrily pushed the thought from his mind and glared at his brother, “the information please,” he finished, sounding completely exasperated.
“Oh, yes. Sorry. It seems that the demon world is all abuzz with news that the daughter of Obelix does in fact exist, and are stopping at nothing to be the first to…” he glanced at Abby who was listening intently, her brows knit together in concentration. “To be the first to obtain her,” he finished grimly – his look apologetic.
“Shit!” Desmond ground out- fury surging through him. “Marcus, please call Luke and ask him to come to the house. I am going to have need of he and his pack to patrol the grounds, and I would prefer to speak with him in person.”
“Do we really need a pack of mangy…?” Marcus began, but Desmond’s ice cold stare stopped him.
“Now. Please.”
Marcus nodded and turned to look at Abby. He took her hand in his once again and placed a quick kiss on the back of it - his brown eyes twinkling with warmth. “I will hopefully be seeing much more of you Abby,” he said with a grin before turning and leaving the room- leaving his brother to glare at his receding his back. His fists clenching and un-clenching at his sides.
“Who’s Luke?” she questioned.
Desmond turned and looked at Abby, his anger instantly ebbing at the sight of her perfect face. For all that was holy, he silently seethed, one look from her had him melting in a puddle at her feet. What in the hell was wrong with him. He was a monster – not some enamored school boy! Maybe he had just been too long without a woman, he reasoned with a frustrated growl. That had to be It. There was no other reason for his body’s reaction to being near her. It was as if he was a tightly coiled spring that was about to snap.
“He is the Alpha of the nearby wolf pack…and a friend,” he offered, his gaze locking on, as it always seemed to do- and much too often for his own sanity- her lips. A current of awareness ran up his spine at the memory of that soft mouth beneath his, and of the unbelievable taste of her. My God, she tasted of spring, fresh and sweet – and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to taste her again - but he fought the urge with every ounce of will-power that he possessed.
“Wolf-pack?” she questioned softly, her eyes growing wide. “As in, like…Werewolves?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, I really have been living in a bubble, haven’t I?” She joked, her hand nervously twisting her ring as she tried to absorb this new tid-bit of information. But as hard as she tried – her mind kept going back to Desmond’s mouth on hers and she shivered slightly.
“Most humans do.”
She glanced out the window and realized with a start that it was already getting dark. She studied Desmond’s face closely, looking for any sign of fatigue - but all she saw was perfection. Absolute, unadulterated, male perfection. How the hell could the man look so GQ perfect all the damn time?
“Don’t you sleep?” she asked finally.
Desmond sat back down in the chair, his eyes studying her face. “I really don’t have a need to very often - no more than every few days, or if I have been injured and need time to heal.”
“Are you injured a lot?”
Desmond graced her with a solemn smile. “No…not anymore.”
“But you use to be?” She asked - the thought of him being hurt causing her heart to do a strange flip.
“Yes. But not for a very long time now. Believe me when I say - I lead a very quiet life here Abby.”
“How can you walk around during the day with all these windows?” She asked, glancing around the room curiously - wanting to know every possible thing about him. The man was completely fascinating.
“They are specially treated to block the sun’s rays yet let the light in. I find that I still enjoy the daylight, and I never stand directly in front of them for long.” They sat there in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Desmond stood and smiled down at her. “Why don’t you relax for a bit while I prepare you dinner? You must be getting hungry.”
“You really don’t need to do that,” she argued, feeling like a total waste of flesh -but when her stomach grumbled a moment later at the thought of food - she smiled weakly, her face once again turning crimson. Damn, was it her stomachs insane ambition to embarrass her in front of this perfect man at every possible turn or what, she thought sourly - her mouth turning down in a frown.
“It seems that your body is telling you that I do,” he said - that damn grin coming to his lips.
“How does a vampire know how to cook anyway?” She demanded, her eyes narrowing slightly with irritation. It wasn’t bad enough that the man was strikingly beautiful - but he was also considerate and fun and … she stopped herself, hating how aware of him she was.
Desmond leaned down and touched his lips to the line of her jaw, right beneath her ear, sending that delicious heat back to the tips of her toes. She heard him inhale slightly and bit back the moan of encouragement that threatened to spring from her lips. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to feel his mouth once again on hers. “Food network,” he murmured, before straightening back up and leaving the room.
Chapter 3
Abby was restless, and she paced the room - trying desperately to curb her racing thoughts – but that was proving to be completely useless. It seemed that as soon as Desmond had left the room she felt…she stopped and glared out of the window and into the darkness - her brows furrowed in anger. She felt alone damn it, she grudgingly admitted - and that thought ticked her off. She felt alone, and vulnerable and restless!
Damn it! She softly cursed - not liking this feeling of dependency at all. She had never been one to rely on the company of others. She had basically been alone her entire life, and had come to the realization that that was just how she liked it. No emotional ties meant no heartache in her book - and she aimed to keep it that way. She had been hurt enough in her life, and had sworn to herself a long time ago that she would never feel that way again.
Her mother had always been so depressed and unavailable that she had learned at a very early age that she had only herself to depend on. And because they had moved around so much, she never really had the opportunity to make any real friends. She cursed under her breath again, knowing that that wasn’t the case any longer. Not since a certain vampire had walked into the picture. She chewed her lower lip as she debated whether or not Desmond would be angry if she went to find him. Just for some company, she silently told herself. He hadn’t told her that she wasn’t allowed to leave the confines of the bedroom after all, she rationalized. Making up her mind, she walked over to the door and cautiously slipped through and into the hallway – not at all sure what to expect.
As she slowly made her way down the hall, she was taken by all the lovely artwork adorning the walls. The pieces were light and airy, not at all what you would expect in a house of Vampires – although her experience on the subject was slim to none at best, she thought with a snort. Who would have ever thought that vampires actually existed? Or that they lived in beautiful homes with bright colors and light -and were drop dead gorgeous to boot! She shook her head slowly from side to side as she quietly tip-toed down the hall. She found the huge marble staircase and headed down slowly, unsure of why she was so nervous. When she heard pots and pans being knocked together she headed in the direction of the sound, her bare feet silent on the cool tile floor.
She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile coming to her lips at the sight of Desmond mulling about and her body instantly warmed. His back was to her as he faced the sink, draining what she believed to be pasta, and she once again noticed how perfect the man actually was as the muscles of his back moved and strained against the shirt that he wore as he moved gracefully about. Oh, Holy Hell! The man was edible. Who the hell needed food.
“You needn’t just stand there quietly, my pet,” he s
aid, his back still to her. “You may come in if you wish.”
Abby blew out the breath she had been holding and sighed -damn his spidey sense! “I was bored,” she offered, walking over to stand beside him. “May I help?” Desmond graced her with that grin and again, her damned toes curled. Damn! Damn! Damn!
“You can stir the sauce,” he said taking a drink from the silver goblet he had beside the sink. “Would you care for a glass of wine?” He set the goblet down and not thinking, Abby reached for it to take a sip. With lightning speed his hand was around her wrist - stilling her. “Not from there, love,” he cautioned a strange heat in his gaze.
For an instant Abby was pissed. What - did he think he would get some sort of horrible, contagious fairy cooties if she drank from the same glass as he did? That really took some nerve. He was a vampire for God’s sake. He drank other people’s blood! Shouldn’t she be the one who was worried?
“I only wanted a taste,” she muttered softly- then with a note of annoyance, “I won’t infect you or anything. Just because I’m a fairy doesn’t mean you’ll sprout wings!” She bit out - but a moment later her eyes widened with embarrassment as her face turned bright red. “Oh, cripes. It doesn’t - does it?” She croaked – wincing at her stupidity.
Desmond burst out laughing, his fingers releasing her wrist and going to her lips. His index finger softly traced the lines of her mouth, his gaze heated as he remembered how these perfect lips felt beneath his - how sweet her mouth had tasted and he wanted nothing more than to lower his head and take them once again. Everything about this woman compelled him - her scent, her laugh – her eyes, and he just wanted to drown himself in her. It was a constant urge that was getting harder and harder to fight.
A Vampire's Saving Embrace Page 4