Her laughter sounded a little wild. “You’re kidding, right?”
His palm slapped against her bare thigh in a smack she should’ve kicked him for. “I asked a question.”
“Yes! But if you ever spank me again, you’ll wind up with donkey ears if I have to get Gee to give them to you.”
Nathan’s mouth curled into a dark smile framed in beard. “I’m terrified,” he drawled. And lowered himself over her, guiding the thick shaft into her wet, snug heat.
The feel of it was so raw, so intense as he worked in deep… Gasping, Rachel stared up at him, wild-eyed, as he braced himself over her on thickly muscled arms.
Licking her lips, she spread her legs wider for him.
Nathan began to thrust. Slow, deep, grinding in and out, angling his hips to make sure his pelvis made contact with her clit. Winding her building pleasure tighter and tighter until it seemed to press against the back of her eyes. She hooked her calves over his ass and ground up at him, wrapping both arms around his torso. Muscle worked and rolled under her hands with every long stroke.
Nathan sank to his elbows, so the length of his strong body touched hers. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her body into an arch. He kissed her, one of those deep, suckling kisses he did so well. With a groan of arousal, she kissed him back, tongues circling and swirling.
The hard muscle of his abdomen flexed against her softer belly, shuttling his cock in and out, teasing her with its length and thickness. Each stroke felt exquisite, and she lost herself in him, in his taste and heat and hardness.
A crazed kind of hunger built in Rachel, more intense than anything she’d ever felt with any other man. She tightened her grip and met the drive of his hips with hers, taking him as deep as she could get, trying to fill that maddening emptiness, that breathless craving.
Still riding her, he drew away from her mouth, found the underside of her jaw. Groaning, knowing what he intended, she tilted her head back. Giving him access to her banging pulse.
His mouth touched her skin there, tongue laving the spot tenderly. One hand angled her head. She sucked in a breath, impossibly aroused -- an arousal that only grew as he bit down in a hot, sweet sting. A thought flitted through her mind -- I thought it would hurt more -- and then he began to drink, taking her as he fucked her harder. Each long plunge made the bed shift under her as his big body rolled against hers.
On and on he thrust, still drinking, as the pleasure wound tighter and tighter until she groaned and shook with it, clawing for the orgasm barely out of her reach.
He stiffened with a snarl, shoving deep. Coming. And as he shot within her, her orgasm struck like a snake, a savage burn more ferocious than any climax she’d ever had. “Nathan!” She screamed it, helpless, as raw sensation blasted through her.
He released her throat and lifted his head. “Look at me!”
Her eyes flew wide as she gasped through the blazing orgasm. He stared down at her, his gaze fierce, pupils blown with lust, his handsome face drawn in a rictus of ecstasy and triumph. A bead of something crimson shown on his lip.
She had no idea why that made the whole thing even hotter.
Finally, he collapsed on the bed beside her, then reached out and pulled her over on to him, cradling her in his arms. Listening to the furious thump of his heart, Rachel felt herself truly relax for the first time since the shooting.
She’d slept barely a handful of hours in the past seventy-two. And yet five minutes later, she fell asleep in the vampire’s arms.
Chapter Four
Nathan lay staring up at the stained glass skylight, bright even at night in the illumination of the house’s exterior spotlights. Otherwise he’d never be able to enjoy it, thanks to the magical Day Sleep that would knock him cold the minute the sun rose. The colored glass served a practical purpose; without it, the sun’s light would inflict serious burns he wouldn’t even feel until he woke at sunset.
Being a vampire might give you fantastic strength and speed, but it came at a price. A liquid diet and never seeing the sun were major line items on that bill.
The fact that he found Latents like Rachel incredibly tempting was yet another price to be paid.
He looked down at her, feeling her warm breath puff across his bare skin. Her lashes looked ridiculously long as they lay on her cheeks. She was asleep.
What the hell am I doing? He’d fully intended to keep his distance tonight. And yet here he was.
Nathan frowned, intensely conscious of the feel of her, her body soft against his in so many tempting places, strong in so many others. She looked so innocent in sleep, as untouched as a maiden from a medieval ballad.
Which made a startling contrast to the cold determination on her face when they’d fenced. She was a warrior, no matter how sweet she looked in sleep. She also made love like a courtesan, as wild with arousal as he’d been himself.
His self-control was usually better than this. If he weren’t damn careful, he’d end up Gifting her before he knew what hit him.
And then he might have to kill her.
The thought of Rachel going mad made him feel sick at what he’d have to do then. Killing Christine had been bad enough.
Dr. Christine Phillips had been a pediatric oncologist who’d devoted her life to saving children from childhood cancer. She’d told him once how the patients she lost ate at her.
Christine had believed becoming a Maja would give her the opportunity to heal those she couldn’t save through merely human medicine. He’d warned her it wouldn’t be that simple -- she’d have to give up practicing medicine among the mortals. She’d almost turned the Gift down then, but the thought of being able to do something about the terrorism and injustice of the world seduced her into going for it anyway.
She should have been fine. The witches of the Majae’s Council had predicted she’d survive her transformation with her sanity intact.
They’d been wrong.
He’d come within her that third time, felt the blast of raw power that was the Gift activating within her cells. In those first moments, he’d thought she would be okay. She’d looked around the room with such wonder, entranced by the magical forces all Majae could see when they transformed the first time. Springing from the bed laughing like a child, she’d conjured one ball of sparking magic, then another. Then another.
He realized something was wrong when the first of those spheres changed from sunlight gold to bloody red.
Christine turned her head and looked at him. As he watched in helpless horror, madness flooded her gaze like the red staining her magic. She whirled and flung all three balls at him like a Major League pitcher, one right after another. He dove off the bed barely a heartbeat before the first blast blew a hole in the stained glass window.
As Nathan rolled aside, he’d snatched his sword from under the bed, where he always left it when he Gifted a witch. Christine dove at him, shrieking in rage and madness…
And he’d run her through.
For a heartbeat, she stared at him in bewildered accusation. Then she’d fallen, the life draining from her beautiful blue eyes.
Nathan hadn’t loved her. That was by design -- he never spent enough time with the Latents he Gifted to fall in love.
But none of those girls was Rachel, whispered a soft voice in his mind.
Oh, shit. Oh no, I am not doing that. No way in hell.
A little spurt of unaccustomed fear drove him to lift Rachel off his chest and settle her on the bed’s furry coverlet. He needed some distance. Badly.
Nathan eased off the other side and padded naked down the hall to descend the stairs. Moving in long strides, he headed for the living room and its well-stocked bar. He stepped behind the gleaming length of dark walnut, reached up into the shelves that held his liquor collection, and pulled down a shot glass and a bottle of Glenlivet. He poured himself three fingers and downed the fiery liquor in one swallow.
Galahad would be outraged at his sacrilegious treatment of the Scotch.
>
He poured another glass and did it again.
As the liquor seared the lining of his throat, Nathan tried to reason with his instincts. He was not, damn it, falling for Rachel Kent. The very idea was ridiculous, especially considering how little time he’d known her. Yeah, she was pretty enough, but so were the other women he’d slept with in his career as a court seducer. Yes, she was bright and courageous, but both characteristics were pretty much a prerequisite for any Gift candidate.
I’m feeling guilty and vulnerable because of Christine. It doesn’t mean anything.
Nathan threw himself down on the long black leather couch, scooped up the remote, and turned on the wall-length screen that hung across the room. By all rights, the thing shouldn’t work in the Mageverse, but witches had a way of sidestepping the laws of physics. Pretty much every cable and online service known to man was available in Avalon.
Brooding, he started surfing the program menu, trying to find something he actually wanted to watch. He’d settled on one of the 24-hour news channels when his vampire hearing picked up a soft moan of pain coming from upstairs.
Nathan tossed the remote aside and hurried out of the room to take the stairs two at a time. Striding to the master bedroom door, he swung it open and headed for the bed. “Rachel?”
Gloriously naked in the colorful light shining through the stained glass windows, she twisted restlessly against the fur, moaning in distress. The moans grew into a ragged, pleading sound, strangled with pain and terror.
Nathan’s first instinct was to shake her awake, but he knew that was the worst thing you could do to someone in the grip of a nightmare. Instead he called sharply, “Rachel? Rachel, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”
Her entire body seemed to spasm, and her eyes flew wide. She looked around, her expression panicky, as if she had no idea where she was or what was going on.
“Rachel, you’re at my house. Everything’s fine.”
Her head snapped around and she stared up at him as he stood by the bed, wild-eyed and confused. “Nathan?” Her voice shook.
Then the confusion faded, replaced by embarrassment. She groaned, rubbing both hands over her face. “Damn it.”
Nathan squashed the impulse to take her in his arms. He was on the verge of losing all pretense of objectivity as it was. Neither one of them could afford that. She needed him to make her think -- really think -- about whether she wanted to risk the Gift. This wasn’t something she should do simply because Oriana had brainwashed her to believe it was her duty. He was all for duty, but the thought of looking into those beautiful eyes and seeing madness…
No. He had to get a handle on the situation. Had to maintain some emotional distance so they both could stay on an even keel.
If she chose to risk the Gift, fine. It was her life. She needed to make that decision without being swamped by emotion that might lead her into self-destruction. He had a responsibility to provide that distance, not tempt her into suicide by treating her like a lover.
And if some part of him hated the idea, that was too fucking bad.
* * *
“Bad dream?”
“Yeah.” Rachel rubbed her hands across her face again, trying to rid herself of the last sticky psychic cobwebs of the nightmare. Daddy, daddy, daddy…
In tonight’s variation, she’d been unable to move when the killer turned his gun on his wife and children. She wanted to step between them, shield them as she had in real life, but her body hadn’t obeyed. She’d stood frozen and helpless while Don killed them one by one -- and then turned the gun on Rachel.
“I dreamed about the shooting. Again.”
“You’ll find you do that a lot in the aftermath of combat,” Nathan told her. His voice was cool, sounding nothing like the man who’d made such passionate love to her. When she shot him a startled glance, his eyes were as distant as his voice.
The hell?
He made a show of looking down at the old-fashioned wristwatch he wore. “Sun’ll be coming up in about half an hour. I don’t have long until the Day Sleep. You may want to head to Oriana’s, have her open a dimensional gate for you if you need to go back home. Be back here tonight at sunset and we’ll continue the testing.”
A spark of anger shot through Rachel as she remembered an old southern saying about rude hosts trying to get rid of inconvenient guests. “‘Here’s your hat,’” she muttered. “‘What’s your hurry?’”
“I’m not your boyfriend, Rachel. You’re my assignment.”
Her jaw dropped. She wanted to tell him exactly what he could do with his assignment, but she had the humiliating suspicion she’d be unable to hide the hurt under her rage. “Yeah, you made that more than clear.”
Furious, Rachel stalked toward the door, only to break step when she realized she was stark naked.
“Your clothes are still in the dojo.”
Without acknowledging what he’d said, she headed naked down the steps, blinking her stinging eyes. Damned if she was going to cry for the son of a bitch.
Her leggings, tank, and shoes lay on the floor of the practice room. He’d reduced her bra and panties to scraps. Looks like I’m going commando, she thought, and got dressed anyway.
Still seething, Rachel let herself out, resisting the urge to slam the door. It was only when she hit the cobblestone street outside that she realized she didn’t remember how to get back to Oriana’s.
Fuck it. She turned right and stalked off.
Which was, of course, the wrong way. She realized her mistake more than a mile later, turned around, and went in the other direction.
Asshole.
* * *
Rachel poured out her outrage while Oriana cooked breakfast for the pair of them. They were eating before she ran out of steam. “I can’t help but notice…” She stabbed her fork into her eggs. “That you haven’t said anything.”
Gee took a bite of her bacon, chewed and swallowed. At last she said, “I don’t blame you for being pissed, but I think he was trying to do you a favor.”
“Are you saying you don’t think I should get the Gift either?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll make an excellent Maja. I’m simply concerned you may be getting a little too involved with him. Nathan’s right. He’s not your boyfriend, and he’s never going to be.”
“I know that. I’m not an idiot.”
Oriana gave her a long, cool look. “Do you?” When Rachel opened her mouth to retort, Gee held up a hand, silencing her. “Look, it’s natural for Latents and Magekind to feel an intense mutual attraction. Merlin’s spell reacts to the magic in any member of the Magekind, especially someone of the opposite sex who could trigger the Gift. And Court Seducers are naturally seductive people to begin with. That’s why they’re chosen for the job.”
“Yeah, Nathan just oozes charm.”
“Actually he does, at least when it suits him. He’s always loved women -- has a positive talent for making whomever he’s with feel like the center of the universe.”
“He must really hate my guts then, because he doesn’t make me feel that way.”
“Oh, really?”
Rachel started to answer, then remembered the moment when she’d lain in his arms. “Okay, maybe once.”
Gee sighed. “Look, being a Court Seducer can be difficult. Ninety-nine percent of the time you’re sleeping with someone you don’t know, so you’re supposed to make it easier for the Latents by romancing them. Seducers aren’t supposed to lie, but they are told to make their partners feel this isn’t just soulless sex. The best Court Seducers make their Latents fall a little bit in love without actually breaking their hearts.”
Rachel toyed with her fork. “Tricky balance to strike.”
“Exactly.” Oriana leaned closer and caught her in an intense gaze. “Now imagine that out of every thousand Latents you seduce, one of them goes insane and tries to kill you. And if you don’t stop her, God knows how many people she’s going to kill.”
“Yeah. He’s
told me all about that. More than once.”
“But think about how it must really feel. Here’s a woman you were making love to not five minutes before, and now you’ve got to kill her -- if you can. Vampires may be much stronger than we are, but our magic gives us a tremendous advantage. In any fight between a mad Maja and a Magus, the vampire could easily lose. And if he dies, she’ll be turned loose on an unsuspecting Avalon. Yes, eventually somebody’s going to kill her, but others could get ambushed and murdered. All because the seducer screwed up.”
Rachel winced. As a cop, she was all too familiar with the public cost of lethal mistakes. Hell, even when you did the right thing, there was a price to be paid. And you might not be the only one to pay it. Daddy, daddy, daddy…
“My point is, no matter how he makes you feel, he doesn’t share your emotions. He can’t afford to. And you can’t afford to let three fucks mean more to you than they should. You’re going to get hurt.”
Pride stinging, Rachel glowered. “Look, I’m not some dippy little Victorian virgin. I’ve had lovers.”
Oriana snorted. “None of whom were anything like Nathan Allard. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your time with him, but you need to keep in mind it doesn’t mean anything. It can’t. Have fun making love to him, by all means, but don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him piss you off when he tests you. And for God sake, guard your heart even when he makes you come so hard you see stars. Otherwise you’re going to regret it.”
“Yeah,” Rachel said. “I see your point.”
I don’t like it, but I see it.
* * *
Oriana opened a gate back to Rachel’s apartment, promising to return her to the Mageverse at sunset.
Rachel took a shower and fell into bed, hoping to catch up on the sleep she’d missed since the shooting. She tossed and turned before finally drifting off.
Her alarm went off at two, and she staggered out of bed to get ready for her appointment with the therapist. She supposed she could go ahead and quit her job, but she didn’t want to trigger rumors that there was anything unjustified in the Gordon shooting. Besides, it was possible she might decide not to become a Maja after all. She doubted it, but the possibility existed.
Master of Seduction Page 5