He scowled at the disturbing thoughts of Mikhail and Jennifer making love. With a low growl, he stalked to the bed and glared down at the sleeping woman. He saw immediately that she was much too pale. Without conscious thought, his raised his arm and lightly brushed the collar of the sweatshirt back to reveal her slim throat. A hiss escaped from his clenched teeth as he saw the bruising that marred her skin.
Mikhail had fed from Jennifer.
But was it consensual or against her will? Leaning closer, he saw the jagged holes in the center of the mottled skin. Vampire bites, when they were welcomed, were smooth and even, with very little bruising. These had definitely been taken by force. Nothing else could account for the size and scope of the injury.
For an unwilling woman it was tantamount to rape.
Fury hit him square in the chest, driving the breath from his body. Staggering away from the bed, he quenched the need to howl at the Goddess and rail against the injustice of the vampire's actions against this woman and his friends. He wanted to destroy everything that'd ever frightened or hurt this woman in her entire life. He wanted to wrap her in cotton batting and keep her warm and safe.
He wanted Mikhail's head on a pike.
Slowly, he sucked in a deep breath of air as he struggled to contain the rage that battled inside him. This rage could be his undoing if he didn't master it immediately. He remained preternaturally still, eyes closed, drawing in deep breaths through his nose and exhaling through his mouth.
Slowly reason returned, and once again he was in control. He opened his eyes and moved toward the bed. As he neared her, the pendant against his flesh began to warm. He paused. Reaching inside his shirt, he pulled the pendant out and over his head. It lay in the palm of his hand, the gold and topaz stone glowing weakly against his skin.
It was the Sun.
Many years before, while in Venice, Jennifer told him how much she loved the sunshine. She felt she'd been born thousands of years too late for she would have made a good sun worshipper in Egypt in the time of Akhenaton. Even though it hadn't been fashionable for a lady of her time, she'd built a small solar onto her house and spent many hours laying in the sunshine. Within a few short weeks she'd acquired a pale golden tan. He'd wanted to kiss every inch of her golden skin to see exactly what she'd uncovered while worshipping the sun. It had been rumored among the ton that she'd sunbathe in the nude.
He'd commissioned a Venetian jeweler to create the gold and topaz pendant that was no larger than an American quarter. When it was held up to the flame of a candle, fingers of brilliant golden light would shoot from the pendant in a weak imitation of the sun.
He remembered her glee when he'd presented her with the pendant. Her lips warm and swollen from kisses stolen in the balcony of the Fenice theatre in Venice, she'd placed the pendant around her neck and announced she would never take it off.
But she lied.
She'd removed it the day she told him she'd chosen Mikhail over him. The day she left him. The day Mac had placed the pendant around his own neck where it had remained until now. A bitter reminder of how dangerous it was to give one's heart to a fickle woman.
He shook his head. So much lost time. The span of lifetimes for mortals, the blink of an eye for immortals, but lost to them both nonetheless. Time that neither he nor Jennifer could reclaim even if they wanted to. He rubbed his finger over the stone before placing it back around his neck. He tucked it beneath his shirt where it rested mere inches from his heart.
A wave of exhaustion tugged at his limbs. It had been only 12 hours since he'd left Catherine's bed, but sleep had been the last thing on his mind. It was almost 36 hours since he had actually slept for any length of time, and he was dead tired. Quietly he removed his boots and climbed into bed next to Jennifer.
Careful to keep a good distance between them, Mac willed his tired muscles to relax. The next few days would be grueling, and he was best served to rest as he could. Closing his gritty eyes, he slipped into a deep sleep.
Something wasn't right. Jerking awake, he was dismayed to find that in their sleep they'd both moved, and the buffer zone he'd left between them was gone. Jennifer was curled up against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her hand fisted in his shirt. Her unique scent of jasmine and warm woman triggered an immediate reaction below his waist.
Scowling, he untangled her hand from his shirt and deposited her head on her pillow. He rolled onto his side away from her and within minutes she moved again, this time plastering herself against his back. Her firm breasts were flattened against him as his growing erection pressed painfully against his zipper.
He shifted away from her again only to have her grumble in protest and follow him. Sighing, he caught her arm and dragged it around his waist, securing her to his back. It appeared he was in for a miserable nap. He was so aroused, it felt like he hadn't had a release in months, rather than a few hours.
He groaned and closed his eyes, ignoring the fact that for the first time in a century, he felt that all was right with the world.
* * *
Chapter 3
Someone was in bed with her.
Jennifer's eyes flew open as a large male hand slipped into her panties, cupping her backside while another hand caressed her breast. Sleepy, chocolate-brown eyes gazed deep into hers. Very familiar chocolate-brown eyes.
Eyes she'd dreamed about but was sure she would never see again.
"Mac," she croaked.
He surrounded her. His arms, his legs, his scent, his very maleness wrapped around her like a living blanket. She pushed at his broad chest, trying to put some space between them.
"Mmmm," he mumbled, tugging her back until she was plastered against him like cellophane on a piece of hard candy. "Don't move," he purred against her collarbone.
"How did you..." She gasped as he placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on her throat, his tongue tasting her skin. At once her body responded to his touch. He pressed his rock solid thigh against the apex of her legs and an answering dampness sprang to life. Shivers rippled over her skin as lust hummed through her veins. This man, only this man could reduce her to a quivering mass of needy flesh. Tangling her fingers in his long hair, she tried to pull his mouth away from her skin and marshal her wayward body back in line.
"What are you..." A groan escaped her as Mac tongued the hollow at the base of her throat. A sigh escaped her as she involuntarily pressed the lower half of her body against him.
His hand kneaded her backside, forcing her hips into a sensual dance as his other hand released her breast and skimmed down her belly. Expertly he untied the drawstring on the pants and they loosened. Pushing them down, he slipped his hand between her thighs and plunged into the moist heat that awaited him.
"I don't..." A thin cry was torn from her mouth as his talented fingers found the sensitive bud contained within. Heat suffused her body as his fingers seemed to reach deep inside her soul, plucking on her very heartstrings. Releasing her death grip on his hair, she clutched his broad shoulders. Spreading her thighs wider, she welcomed his weight as he rolled over on top of her, pressing her into the mattress.
"Yes you do, Jennifer," he breathed against her throat. "You need this as badly as I do." He pressed tiny kisses along her jaw. "I can feel it inside of you." His teeth nipped at her earlobe. "Just as I want to be buried deep inside of you." Lightly he kissed her lips, a faint brush of flesh on flesh, a taste of things to come. Jennifer whimpered, wanting much more than a chaste kiss. Needing much more. Now.
She caught his head and pulled his mouth from her flesh. "More," she breathed.
Fixated on his mouth, she missed the flash of male satisfaction in his eyes. Leaning forward, he caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged tenderly, causing waves of desire to rocket through her. With one last tug he released the flesh. His dark gaze impaled hers. "Yes, more," he breathed before he captured her mouth fully.
He ate at her mouth like a starving man and she reveled in it. With bold stro
kes he invaded her, caressing the sensitive roof of her mouth before maneuvering into position to wrestle with the slick warmth of her tongue.
A soft moan escaped her as Mac sucked on her tongue. Against her will, she tangled her fingers in his long hair. Clutching at his skull, she returned his kiss ravenously as if she, too, were starving with a hunger that only this man could fill. She clung to him as the sensations rocked through her body. A nameless need overtook her limbs as she drew her knees up to align them with his slim hips. She rocked against his straining zipper, fanning the flames of her desire into a raging inferno.
Gasping, he broke the torrid kiss. Startled, Jennifer opened her eyes and met his hot gaze. The fire of his desire burned brightly within his eyes. She wanted to wallow in his heat until it covered every inch of her flesh and warmed the core of her chilled soul.
He pressed a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "Tell me what you want, Jennifer." He placed a tiny kiss at the corner of her mouth; his tongue teased the seam between her lips. "Tell me you want me." He commanded, pressing a kiss just below the center of her lower lip. He pressed another to her chin. "Tell me you want this." He rocked his hips against the damp apex of her thighs, causing a white-hot blaze of lust to rip through her soul.
"I want you," she breathed, drawing her knees tighter to his hips.
He pressed a kiss to the opposite corner of her mouth. "How much do you want me?" He rocked against her again, this time prolonging the upward movement until a cry was wrenched from her. "How much do you want this?"
"Please," she begged, ignoring the warning that sounded in the back of her mind. She strained desperately for the completion that was just out of her reach. The release that only this man could give her.
Mac shifted and pinned her arms to the mattress. "Did you beg him, too?"
Confused, she looked into his eyes. The tender lover of moments ago was nowhere to be seen. "W-w-what?" she stammered.
"I said, 'Did you beg him too?'"
"What are you talking about?"
His grip on her arms tightened as his mouth curled in disgust. "Did you beg Mikhail to fuck you?"
Jennifer tensed; the pain from his verbal blow was more intense than any physical pain she'd ever endured. She was momentarily blinded as tears flooded her eyes. She furiously blinked them away. She would die before she would cry in front of this man. "Let me go," she ground out.
"Were you as hot and wild beneath him as you are for me right now? I can feel your arousal, Jennifer. Did he get you off? More than once?" he demanded.
Jennifer flinched as each word landed like a blow on her heart. "I said," she choked, "Get off me." She held herself deathly still, barely breathing as she stared into the eyes of the man she'd once loved with all of her heart. The same man that was filleting her alive with every word he spoke.
"You're so easy," he spat.
She was relieved when Mac released her. As he rolled off, Jennifer vaulted from the bed. With one hand she grabbed at the wall to keep herself upright as her trembling knees threatened to drop her to the carpeting, while the other clutched at the drawstring on her drooping pants.
"Don't you ever touch me again," she whispered shakily.
Mac rose from the bed, his expression angry, remote. "With pleasure."
"Now, leave this house."
He shook his head. "Not so fast. You and I have unfinished business, Jennifer. We'll settle it here and now. Today."
She turned away, refusing to look at him any longer, terrified he would see too much of what was going on inside her. Sunshine beckoned through the blinds and for a moment she wished she were outside, wrapped in its warmth rather than trapped in this dim room with a man who was killing her by degrees. Taking a shallow breath, she struggled to calm herself. Catching sight of the open bathroom door, she eyed her escape route. Blessed solitude. That was what she needed to pull herself together, to regain her equilibrium that currently eluded her. Shaky, she edged toward the door, "I don't think you and I have anything to say to one another."
He stepped directly in front of her, forcing her gaze back to his. "You're so wrong, Jennifer. We have volumes to say to one another." He gestured toward the open doorway. "For now you can make your escape, but you can't hide forever." He turned and picked up his boots. "I'll wait for you downstairs. Don't make the mistake of keeping me waiting for too long, or I will come back up here and drag you out. You aren't going to avoid me this time."
Jennifer sank onto the thick carpeting as Mac walked out the door. His footsteps faded down the steps. She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face against them as sobs threatened to choke her. Fisting her hands against her mouth, she struggled to quiet her anguish. She failed miserably. An animal-like keening broke free as her heart shattered once again.
This time she knew it would kill her.
The morning sun beat down warm and welcome on his shoulders as Mac raised the coffee cup to his mouth and took a deep gulp of the thick black brew. In his mind, if you couldn't stand a spoon up in a cup of joe then it just wasn't worth drinking. Now, if he had a warm beignet from the Café du Monde in New Orleans, then his morning would be complete.
Instead he had a steaming plate of revenge, still hot from the infliction.
He frowned and twisted the delicate gold chain of the Sun around his fingers, surprised at his feelings of shame at what he'd done to Jennifer. It was her heartbreaking sobs that almost undid him. Fayne's house was small and cozy, consequently every wrenching sob could be heard throughout the house. Finally, in desperation to escape her torment, he'd fled into the sprawling kitchen to brew up a pot of coffee, only to dump half of it on his shirt because his hands trembled from the sounds of her distress.
He scowled at the offending shirt as if it had tossed the coffee on him rather than the other way around. It dangled merrily in the cold breeze as it hung off handrail of the deck, the coffee neatly rinsed out in the kitchen sink.
He still wanted her. Possibly more now than he did over a century ago. Damn her black soul for making him want her all over again.
The taste of her skin resonated in his mouth and not even the thickest, blackest chicory coffee would remove it. The scent of her arousal clung to his skin no matter how many times he tried to wash it away. Her breathy cries still rang in his ears as his arousal continued to gnaw at his zipper. He clenched his fist, the Sun digging into his hand
"Damn her," he whispered. "Damn Mikhail and damn me." He released his fist then looked down to stare at the pendant. Brilliant sunshine gleamed from the heart of the topaz, momentarily blinding him.
Stuffing the pendant into his jeans pocket, he set his coffee cup down with a thump on the deck rail and took a deep, cleansing breath of the icy air.
The winter solstice was approaching and the air was cold against his bare chest where his unzipped jacket didn't cover. He'd always felt the deepest kinship with the winter solstice in particular and he'd never really known why. The fact he couldn't remember much of his life before the 11th century bothered him deeply. Obviously he'd been some kind of tree-hugging pagan but other than that instinctive knowledge, he had no idea where he came from. No country to call his home, no people to call his own. There existed only a yawning emptiness in his psyche where his past should reside. There were no clues to his origins before waking up in a niche of Hadrian's wall with Renault crouched by his side. An inauspicious beginning to be sure.
Over the many years of his life he'd acquired quite a few good memories of the shortest day of the year. When he lived in medieval Europe, Winter Solstice was the eve of massive Yule log hunts and long, dark hours filled with feasting and ale. Many a young lady lost her virginity to him on such a night.
His mouth curled in a slight smile as he remembered one lovely redhead, a bottle of burgundy and an all night lovemaking session that'd left him sated for at least a week. Ana with her lusty curves and talented lips and her cries of vite, vite!
Visions of Jennifer hot and wanting i
n his arms superimposed themselves over Ana's image. His smile faded.
Damn her.
Jennifer smoothed her oversized black sweater down her arms as she watched the man who'd invaded her sanctuary. In all of her years, Conor MacNaughten was still the most devastatingly handsome man she'd ever seen. At just over six feet, Mac lacked the sheer bulk that Val possessed. Instead he was sleek and wiry like a jungle cat, and he was incredibly strong. His usual demeanor was restless, sensual and a touch hedonistic. He had an energy that either drew people in or sent them running.
He had a quick temper and the reflexes to match. He was a man of deep passion and tightly leashed emotions, hidden behind a laissez-faire exterior. He felt things very deeply, regardless how much he tried to hide it. It was one of the many things that she'd found irresistible and it drew her to him as much now as it had a century before.
His worn jeans hugged his backside and accentuated his long legs. His black leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and emphasized his narrow waist. The jacket was unzipped, giving her tantalizing glimpses of his lightly tanned chest. Thick, wavy dark brown hair brushed his shoulders and with the sun hitting the strands, as it was now, an illusion of a golden halo appeared.
Her mouth curved bitterly. This man was no angel; he was lethal, to her at least.
Pain crowded her throat as shame set her cheeks aflame. How could she have acted in such a wanton fashion? She knew exactly how Mac felt about her. She knew it before today and she knew it even more clearly now. She was beneath his contempt. So be it. All she had to do was escape this situation with as much of her dignity and pride intact as possible. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, she fought for calm as she watched the man who'd almost been inside her.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 2 Page 4