Entangled

by Olivia Stocum

  “What?” she said, realizing she was panting, wishing she could stop.

  “Nothing.” His expression, usually so easy to read, closed itself to her. “Sleep,” he said, trying to use mind control.

  She yawned then forced herself back out of it. “No.”

  She watched his jaw work in frustration.

  “Must be tough not getting your way all the time,” she said.

  “You need to pretend to have been sleeping in the car, or this will get uncomfortable for you when the innkeeper asks questions.”

  “Front desk,” she corrected.

  “What?”

  “Not innkeeper. Front desk.”

  “Can you?” he asked, now softly. “Can you pretend?”

  “Pretend what?” But she knew exactly what he was talking about. And it was making her feel transparent. Which was making her angry. “I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”

  “I do not have to for this. I can see you, hear you, and I can smell you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Your pheromones.”

  “Mine? But you’re the one with the raging hormones.”

  She earned herself another sidelong glance from him for that.

  He sighed. “I can help you if you would only let yourself go. I can make you sleep, just for a few minutes.”

  “No.”

  “Then use your self-control. Since it’s so strong, then you can do this. Close your eyes and still your breathing. This will look more natural to the mortals if you pretend to be asleep.”

  “Fine. I’m sleeping.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Then she forced herself to relax, or at least to go limp. It wasn’t perfect but as long as no one looked too closely they would be okay.

  “Cover your neck with your hair.”

  She draped her hair over his fang marks then made her muscles go lax, knowing how she must have looked, her limp in the monster’s arms, his marks now hidden on her throat, and her blonde hair flowing across her shoulder. She wanted to laugh. What she did however, was play her part.

  Kendra heard him talking to himself in Arabic all the way to the front door, which he got open without any difficulties despite having her in his arms. Sounded distinctly like he was complaining about her. She was definitely annoyed with him this time.

  “Long drive?” a woman asked quietly.

  “Yes, my wife is exhausted.”

  Wife? That was the last straw.

  Too bad wooden stakes weren’t really effective against vampires, or he’d be a dead man the moment she got her hands on a good spindled chair back.

  “Everything is ready for you, Mr. Basra.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She was vaguely aware of him crossing the floor. His movements were very smooth. Seamless. Once they were in the elevator she opened her eyes.

  “You can put me down now.”

  He released her and she caught herself on his chest. Her nose came to the middle of his sternum. She looked up, and up. He smiled.

  Kendra backed away then faced the door of the elevator, hoping it would hurry up already.

  “Wife, huh?” she asked in attempt to reestablish the ever blurring boundaries between them.

  “I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”

  “What century are you from?” She looked at him. “Never mind.”

  “You are the one who was angry I’d kissed you.”

  Well, yes. He had her there.

  The door opened and she was the first one out. Kendra rubbed her arms. Her body temperature was dropping now that she was no longer touching him.

  “I should have grabbed your coat out of the car.”

  “We’ll clothe you tomorrow.” He looked her over, smiling as if he liked what he was seeing. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t even.” She made sure nothing was showing down there, glad to see her pajamas seemed to be getting the job done well enough. It was a miracle her nose hadn’t bled all over them earlier.

  She was cold, however.

  And she was wearing satin.

  She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Walk quickly,” she said.

  He ignored her comment, pausing momentarily to figure out where their room was. He was no more out of place than any other foreigner, even with the disadvantage of being a century out of whack.

  “Shopping will be interesting,” she said. “How do we explain the way I’m dressed?”

  “We’ll figure out something.”

  He stopped in front of their door.

  “I can do it for you,” she said.

  Ignoring her, he swiped the key card and opened it, gesturing her in.

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He followed, closing the door behind him. It was pitch-black inside. Didn’t seem to bother him any. Big surprise. She heard him put his bag down as she fumbled for a light switch.

  “Warning,” she said, finding it. “The mortal needs light.” She switched the light on right next to him, expecting him to shrink away.

  He stood there by one of the beds looking at her like she was nuts.

  “I thought light wasn’t your friend.”

  “Sunlight,” he said with a small smile.

  She’d failed to make the distinction between the two.

  She was tired, although she didn’t want to admit it to him. “You don’t look like you need to sleep,” she said. He looked just as he had all night. Like an Egyptian god.

  She looked away. He had been an Egyptian god.

  This was just awkward.

  “I don’t look it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not,” he said. “Often I feel tired, more than you could ever know, and in ways you could never understand.”

  He was dishing out a lot about himself, more than she would have expected. He’d lived a long time so he must have known full well how to hide any, and no doubt every part of himself by now. So why the disclosure?

  She thought she knew, and the knowledge came from a place inside of her. Her woman’s intuition.

  She was the first woman he’d broken down and tasted in the last one hundred years. Vampires bonded like that, through the blood…

  “But I can live without sleep if I have to,” he finished, sitting on one of the beds.

  Maybe she should’ve looked for a room with separate beds and bedrooms. She sat on the other one. Him not needing sleep would make running away tough, shoes or no shoes on her feet.

  “But you can’t live without blood,” she said, wincing immediately because she knew she really shouldn’t have mentioned it. Great. Next she’d be inviting herself to AA meetings and bringing the beer. His body was warm, she recalled, so he was well fed. “You already ate I take it.”

  “Yes.” His fangs flashed quickly.

  Her breath hitched, then she heaved air a few times before catching herself. As a distraction she looked at what he was wearing, being cool and clinical about her assessment. Long sleeve gray shirt, his silver crucifix with a garnet stone laying imposingly against his sternum in the gap between open buttons, dark blue jeans that fit like they’d been made for him, and black leather boots. Doctor Martins, to be exact.

  “I’m good for a few days,” he said, in that way of his that slipped in and out from modern English to the more stylized formality of years ago.

  She redirected her gaze to his face. “What did you eat? Or do I want to know.”

  “I broke into a Red Cross.”

  She felt her eyes widen. “So that’s how you do it?”

  “Yes,” he said with a low hiss.

  She looked away. The stucco wall held no appeal however and slowly she turned her gaze back to the predator sitting silently across from her.

  His eyes, soft now, watched her. Kendra felt her skin warming. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself, which seemed counterproductive, but maybe that way he’d stop staring. She took a breath, hoping she wouldn’t hyperventilate from her erratic breathing.

/>   “You will learn to manage it better, given some time,” he said quietly, almost dare she think, compassionately.

  “Manage what?” she asked, although knowing exactly what he was talking about.

  “Your response to me.”

  “As a predator.”

  “I have fed on you, not much, but enough, and now you know it.” He touched his chest, just below the crucifix. “Here, you know.”

  She held the blanket tighter to herself.

  He stood suddenly, too quickly for a mortal, peeling off his shirt. “You might be more comfortable in this.”

  He held it out to her, but she was having trouble focusing. On anything but his bare chest. He was pretty well formed. Yup. Very nicely made, indeed.

  He lowered his hand, the shirt still in it.

  “I was a peasant,” he said.

  She shook herself free from her lust. “What?”

  He smiled at that. Naturally, he wouldn’t be surprised that she found him attractive. “Heavy labor. I look as I did then.”

  “Yeah, don’t get that from a home gym.” She stopped, aware that she sounded like an idiot.

  “A what?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I’m sleep deprived.”

  He offered his shirt again and she took it, dropping the blanket to pull it on. It was still warm from his body. His scent clung around her. She felt like his hands were on her now, holding her.

  “How is this supposed to make me more comfortable?” she managed.

  “You are covered, habibti, and while it offers little protection because I can still smell you, at least it keeps my eyes off your body.”

  “You know, I appreciate all the honesty you’re giving me here, but there comes a point when it’s just too much for a girl to take.”

  “I think you should know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “Nothing,” she said, glaring at him. Whether or not it would do her any good she didn’t know. “I’m getting into nothing, so just stop it now.”

  His brow furrowed, and he looked at her critically. “Can you sleep?” he asked.

  Kendra sighed, realizing that he’d completely ignored what she’d just said. “It was a rough night.”

  “That’s what I meant. Your sleep will be restless. I could help you with that, but not until you let me.”

  “Not a chance.” Subconsciously, she pulled the collar of her borrowed shirt up to hide her throat.

  “I wasn’t referring to that. Although, I’m sure we’d both sleep afterwards, and probably quite well.”

  She dropped the shirt. Yes. He’d been designed for women, was probably like one of those men who could hardly help themselves but to chase after any willing female who came his way.

  Kendra ignored the fact that he’d lived at a monastery. It was easier to remember that he was dangerous, both physically and emotionally. Otherwise that pesky compassion of hers might take over.

  “Do you have a mate now?” she asked, just in case she could use another woman as an excuse to distance herself from him.

  His brow furrowed, and he looked at her like she was two crayons short of a box. “I told you, I was a monk.”

  So, no then. No help from that quarter. “Not a very good one,” she snapped in self-defense. She’d really hoped for a solid reason to talk herself out of wanting him.

  “I have slept with, maybe six women in one hundred years,” he said, losing his normally cool demeanor. “Do the math.” He bent toward her. Faster and stronger than she was, he could break her easily.

  She cringed, backing away. Her eyes blurred with tears. He’d been patient, and gentle, and kind. Honest. But now he was harsh, and even though she didn’t want it to matter, it did. Stupid, Kendra. Look at what he’s doing to you!

  “I just wanted to know,” she managed hoarsely, curling into a ball.

  He shrank back from her, shoulders relaxing. “I have no mate,” he said so quietly she had to strain to hear.

  Kendra wiped her eyes. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

  “I could command you to sleep,” he said. “It would be for your own good.”

  “No. Thank you though.” Why she said thank you she didn’t know, maybe because he seemed sorry for scaring her. “I don’t want to give you that control,” she admitted.

  “No, habibti. You’re human. The effect would be temporary. I can make it weak. You will sleep only for a few hours.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care if it lasts for five minutes.”

  “Stubborn,” he said, but he was smiling around the word.

  “Maybe you’re why I can’t sleep.”

  “Me?”

  He had the nerve to be confused by that? She uncurled her body. “Do I dare close my eyes?”

  “What can I do to you in your sleep that I cannot while you are awake?”

  He did have a point.

  “Sleep. At sunset we will buy you some clothes.”

  “Did you forget something?”

  He seemed to be thinking about it. She saved him from a possible brain aneurism. “I need to eat too,” she clued him in. “I’m probably iron deficient by now.”

  “You are fine. I’m aware of how much blood you can lose.” He smiled, showing pride. Pride in his skills? In his knowledge of the human body, how to keep it alive and at his beck and call for as long as possible? Oh, hell no.

  “When you awake, order room service.”

  He knew too much about this century. Couldn’t fool him there.

  “You’ll just let a stranger come up here?”

  “I’ll get the door.” Brows narrowed. “You are paranoid, aren’t you?”

  “I am not.”

  “Sleep,” he said, and she felt the wave of his powers caress her like the softest of touches.

  She shook it off. “Stop that.”

  “That was done out of habit. I wasn’t intentionally trying to control you.”

  “Whatever. I’m going to try and sleep now, without your help.”

  She pulled the blanket over her and slept on top of the comforter, not wanting to be under layers with him in the room. Too easy to get trapped that way.

  Chapter Four

  Listening to Kendra as she struggled to find a comfortable position to sleep in was annoying him. Alessandro shoved a pillow over his face but his hearing was sensitive and she was making little whimpering noises whenever she accidentally bumped her bruised face and nose. How was he supposed to waste the daylight hours with her there?

  In his arms, nestled smooth and naked against his body after he’d made love to her, well, that would be another matter entirely.

  Made love to her?

  When was the last time he’d done that? No, never mind, he knew when. He didn’t mean sex either. He’d had his moments over the last century, but not like what he wanted right now.

  He tossed the pillow aside, turned his head to look at her balled up on the mattress. Alone. She looked vulnerable there without him to shield her. It was ridiculous of him to feel that way because no Slave would manage to sneak in there with them unannounced. She could easily be this short distance from him and be perfectly safe.

  If she hadn’t been so stubborn about allowing him to use mesmerism on her, this would have been so simple. She would be asleep by now, and so would he.

  Alessandro stood, going to her, standing over her in the darkness. “Sleep,” he whispered.

  She pulled down the blanket and sat up. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”

  It wasn’t often that he came across a mortal who could not be controlled, but it came up from time to time. She just happened to be one of them.

  “You’re making too much noise,” he said. “I can’t sleep.”

  “Then mesmerize yourself.”

  She was stunning with her golden hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her face soft in the faint glow through the blinds. “Doesn’t work that way,” he told her hoarsely.

  “Fine, then.” She pointed at him
, an adorably superior look on her face. “Sleep,” she commanded.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, fighting back the urge to laugh at her.

  Kendra’s eyes, smoky blue now, focused downward over his chest, then the black boxers he was wearing. He really wished that she hadn’t done that. Her scent changed. He picked up on her attraction for him all too easily.

  “Someone dressed you,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “You people have magazines everywhere. I can dress myself without further need than that.”

  “Good for you then,” she said tartly, lying back down. “Then do it now and put more clothes on.”

  He sat on the end of her bed instead. She was avoiding him, fighting her instinct to be with the beast. He didn’t blame her in the least. It was for the best that she continued to fight that urge. He didn’t like that she was fighting it. But he knew it was for the best.

  “Why?” he asked, more interested now in talking to her than sleeping. “Am I offending you?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed this time. “I am not.”

  Kendra propped herself on her elbow, wincing as she settled back into a more comfortable position. The marks from his fangs were on that side. He felt immediately guilty—intrinsically drawn to her. They’d started something when he’d drunk from her that had ended prematurely. He’d meant what he’d said earlier. He could make this whole experience pleasing for the both of them. The scars were already there, the damage done. It was better for her not to involve herself with him but he wouldn’t fool himself, knew that at her consent she would be having him anyway.

  “Off my bed,” she said.

  “What?”

  “You’re doing it again. Get off my bed.”

  He stood, irritated, then sat on his bed. “Better?”

  “As good as it will get, I guess.”

  She was a strange creature. Even for a woman.

  “If you would tell me what I’m doing, then maybe I can stop,” he said. Or maybe not, depending on what it was.

  She looked him over again, ending with his face, forcing him to hold his breath the whole time so that he couldn’t smell her. “It’s hard to explain,” she said.

  “Try,” he said through his teeth, aware of the edge to his voice, struggling to control it so he didn’t scare her.