The Vampire's Protector [The Protectors 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Doris O'Connor

  It was too much to wrap her head around, but then again, this place had stood empty for a long time. Nobody in living memory knew who owned it, only that someone clearly did, because it was always well looked after.

  Well, fuck her, if that elusive someone wasn’t a hot vamp, who had her knickers all in a twist. Eva’s stomach rumbled. It reminded her that it had been ages since she’d last eaten, and her evil rescuer had said he would feed her. She still wasn’t sure with what. Surely his blood comment had been nothing more than a joke, hadn’t it? He hadn’t turned her, Eva knew that much. She didn’t feel any different, just horny, and she smirked at herself in the mirror as she made quick work of dressing herself. Tall and slim with an almost boyish body, these clothes suited her body shape to perfection, and for once in her life Eva did not feel inadequate about the less than small handful Mother Nature had blessed her with. It meant she rarely bothered with a bra, and considering the amount of fights she got into her shape was a good thing, really. Big boobs would just get in the way.

  Eva smoothed the lilac dress she’d chosen down her thighs and did a little twirl. Rarely had she felt as feminine as she did now, and the pastel color suited her. It was one of her favorite shades, after all. Her stomach reminded her again of the need for food, and she pulled open the heavy oak door to her bedroom. A huge upstairs landing greeted her. A myriad of doors led off it, and the stain glass window on top of the stairs scattered the sunlight into prisms of multicolored shapes that gave everything a muted, warm feel. No doubt it was to break up the potent effect of the sun on her vamp, and Eva shook her head at herself.

  He wasn’t her vamp, she had to remember that.

  Nonetheless her heart beat faster, as she descended down the staircase. She did so slowly, admiring the many original paintings that were displayed on the walls. Eva was no art expert, but these looked expensive. Then again, a thousand-year-old vampire would have had plenty of means to acquire wealth and status far beyond a mere human’s reach.

  Soft music traveled up the stairs, and she followed the sound to the back of the house. When she pushed open another heavy door, the delicious smells of cooking assaulted her nostrils and Eva froze on the door step. This kitchen wouldn’t have been amiss in a professional cook’s house. Taking up the entire back of the house it led out to a conservatory cum dining area. He’d pulled the blinds against the glare of the sun, but it was still bright and airy, and far too well equipped for a man who lived off human blood as his only food source.

  For the second time that morning Eva doubted her sanity as she saw him expertly flip a pancake and lower it back to the six ring hob he was cooking on. The breakfast bar in the middle of the huge kitchen held an assortment of fruit, orange juice, and a freshly brewed carafe of coffee, as well as croissants, and a section of cheeses and meats.

  “There you are. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I took the liberty of making a selection. I’m on the last pancake, so sit down and pour yourself a coffee, myshka.”

  His eyes narrowed when she didn’t move, and just stood in the doorway gawping at him, but for the life of her she couldn’t move. In the blink of an eye he was stood in front of her, towered over her, in fact, and she curled her toes under to stop herself from giving into the instinct to lean into his strength. He had to be six and half feet tall, and a shudder went through her when he grasped her chin between his long fingers and lifted her head up to make her look at him.

  Amusement danced in the depths of his black eyes, and she swallowed hard when his fangs ran out, in response to her staring up at him.

  “You look beautiful, my dear. Those clothes suit you. Know this, however, I won’t touch you, unless you beg for me it.”

  The outrageously arrogant words pulled Eva out of her trance and she pushed him away. The fact that he let her wasn’t lost on her, and she breathed marginally better when he resumed his position behind the stove in another dizzyingly fast flash of movement. Eva was used to the speed of the vampires she fought on a daily basis, but they had nothing on this man’s abilities, and a shiver of unease crawled up her spine. To mask it, she walked up to the breakfast bar, pulled out a chair and sitting down busied herself with pouring out the coffee. On a whim she poured him one, too, and then turned round to glare at him.

  “Hell will freeze over, before I beg you for anything, vamp.”

  The ghost of a smile kicked up his far too tempting mouth, and her throat went dry when he put the stack of pancakes down on the bar, and tapped her nose, before he, too, sat down.

  “We’ll see about that, and the correct address is, Sir.”

  His grin deepened when the sip of coffee she’d just taken went down the wrong way again, and she failed miserable at glaring at him.

  “We should start off like we mean to go on, don’t you think?” He winked at her, and her mouth fell open when he picked up his own coffee cup, and took a generous mouthful.

  Taking one of the pancakes from the stack he’d just cooked, he proceeded to slather it in syrup, and offered it to her. When she shook her head, he shrugged his shoulders and ate it himself.

  Eva knew she was staring and no doubt doing gold fish impressions, but he ate, too?

  “Vampires don’t eat or walk in the sun. What the hell are you?” she asked, and her nemesis smiled, took one of the napkins, and wiped his mouth.

  “Dimitrius Zolnerovich at your service.” He grinned in an almost boyish fashion and Eva was glad she was sitting down. “Or should that be demanding your service, myshka. Now, eat something, or I will be forced to make you. Don’t think I wouldn’t.”

  Chapter Three

  She really was far too easy to read, and it was simply delightful to see her struggle to hold onto her temper. Her eyes flashed fire at him, and he could tell that she was positively itching to give him a snarky comeback, but she grabbed one of the hot croissants instead, broke it in half with trembling fingers, and then buttered it.

  Dimitrius fought the urge to adjust his dick into a more comfortable position, as the flaky pastry clung to her skin, and a trail of butter ran down her chin. She jumped when he leant in and swiped that mark away with his thumb. He let his fingers linger, drawn in by the softness of her skin, and the scent of aroused woman. Her mind might be fighting this thing between them, but her body, and in particular her inner animal knew what they wanted.

  “Wh–what are you doing?” she whispered, and he smiled and reluctantly let her go.

  “Just tidying you up a bit. The butter…” He let his words trail off, amused by the endearing blush that spread down her cleavage. It was such a contradiction to the more than capable women who had fought off those vampires so admirably last night.

  She made a hasty grab for one of the napkins, and wiped her mouth.

  “Is it gone?” she asked and relaxed a bit at his smiling nod, only to get all flustered again, when she followed his gaze down to her pastry covered cleavage.

  “Oh for pity’s sake. I’m ruining this pretty dress.” She made a move to brush the crumbs away, and froze when Dimitrius grasped hold of her flailing hands and stopped her.

  “You’re not, relax, and besides, even if you were, it would hardly matter. There’s enough of them up there. They suit you I have to say. You look beautiful, myshka.”

  She snatched her hands away and glowered at him.

  “Sweet talking will get you nowhere, Mr. and will you stop calling me that. My name is Eva. Eva Arnett, and I should be getting home, not sitting here having breakfast with...well with you.” She seemed to run out of steam, and worried her bottom lip with her teeth again in a way that made him shift on his seat.

  “Stop doing that, Eva, and you address me as Sir, not Mr. We’ve already had this discussion, and unless you want a permanent reminder imprinted on your luscious ass, you’d do well to remember that.”

  Her mouth fell open at his quietly delivered statement, and she shook her head.

  “You have no right. I’m not yours to order me around.
”

  Dimitrius inclined his head and flashed her a toothy grin. It made her breathing hitch in a most satisfactory manner, and he could almost taste her. She would be sweet on his tongue, and addictive, and he really shouldn’t go there. Not with a Protector, but Dimitrius never backed away from a challenge, and this Eva Arnett called to him on so many levels, he had to take this further.

  “Maybe not the latter, not until you agree, anyway, but I most certainly do own you, myshka.”

  She scowled at him, but couldn’t quite bring herself to hold his gaze, even if her reply was predictable.

  “The name is Eva. Stop calling me that other thing, what does it mean anyway?”

  Dimitrius ignored that comment and carried on.

  “Need I remind you that I saved your life, and with that comes ownership. I look after what’s mine, myshka.” He raised his hand to stop her from interrupting him, when she looked as though she was going to say something else. Yet more amusement bubbled up inside of him, when she mumbled something under her breath, and proceeded to shred the napkin into smithereens.

  “It means, little mouse, and I think it suits you.”

  That made her head snap up, and this time he looked into the eyes of her eagle, and he didn’t even bother to hide his amusement. She was just such fun to wind up.

  “Little mouse?” She growled the words in that deep-throated way she had that made him want to bend her over this breakfast bar and fuck her silly right now. Some of his thought processes must have shown on his face, because she got off her chair and backed away from him slowly.

  “Don’t you dare?” she said. “I shift into a fucking eagle, not a mouse, and you—”

  He was on top of her before she could finish that sentence, and she blinked up at him, when he crowded her against the massive fridge that took up one side of his kitchen.

  “Did you just swear at me, girl?”

  With her hands in his and pinned high above her head, and his body holding her up against the fridge, a whimper escaped her when he rubbed his erection into her belly.

  “Answer me.” Dimitrius firmed his voice, giving it that edge that never failed to get a little subbie worried, and, sure enough Eva, too, succumbed. She dropped her gaze to his throat and shook her head.

  “Really? You calling me a liar now, too, because I may be old, but my hearing is excellent, and I distinctively heard you use a foul word. That’s beneath you. I told you that already, and for your information. I am fully aware of you shifting into an eagle. You’re beautiful and deadly in your bird form, but you’re still my little mouse. Because I could snap you in half just as easily as your eagle could shred a mouse, so…”

  He pulled back slightly, better to study her expression and the sadist in him roared at the fear and worry that poured off of her right now, especially as her breathing sped up, and the sweet musk of her arousal filled the space between them. He didn’t think she was aware of the tiny clenching movements her thighs made, and she shrieked when he transferred both her wrists into one of his hands, used the other to grasp a fistful of her hair, and kicked her legs apart all at the same time.

  Using her hair as anchorage, he forced her to look up at him, while he shoved his thigh between her legs. The heat of her pussy branded him and he suppressed a groan of his own, as she grew damp for him, and her pupils dilated.

  “Haven’t you got something to say to me, girl?” he asked and her eyes widened. Dimitrius increased his hold on her hair and rubbed his thigh slowly along her hot cunt. Beads of perspiration broke out on her top lip, and giving into the need to taste her, he closed the distance between them and licked those drops of moisture away. Her feminine groan of need was music to his ears, and he smiled when she tried to close the distance between them. Seeing her run her tongue along her lips was so damn erotic, that he almost allowed her to kiss him—almost. Instead he yanked her head back, and a shiver went through his girl.

  “Please, Sir.” The whispered words shot straight to his groin and he knew his fangs lengthened. Dipping his head he ran those canines along her rapidly beating pulse point with just enough force to hurt slightly, yet not break the skin.

  “Are you begging me, girl?” He whispered the words into her damp hair line, and inhaled deeply. She’d showered and the smell of his favorite shower gel mixed in with her unique sweet scent was a far too arousing combination. She went limp against him, when he licked up her skin, and nibbling her earlobe repeated his question.

  “Answer me. Are you begging your Sir to touch you?”

  A loud knock on the outer kitchen door made Dimitrius swear, especially when he saw what the time was. It said a lot about his fascination with this woman that he’d forgotten about the pick-up.

  He released her with a groan, pulled the hem of her dress down and wrenched the door open.

  “Oh, there you are. I was beginning to think you weren’t in, and oh...Am I interrupting something?”

  * * * *

  Shiiit, what had just happened? Eva struggled to draw air into her lungs, and she hastily checked her dress was still covering her as it ought to. Much to her surprise it did. Somehow it had felt as though he’d undressed her, she’d felt so open, vulnerable, and exposed in Dimitrius’s close proximity. It was insane this hold he had on her, and it was so not fair that he stood there, conversing with the silver-haired lady, with not a hair out of place, whereas she no doubt looked just like she felt. Ready to be fucked by the man who seemed in the process of charming the socks off Ethel Gardiner.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Well if you’re sure, Dimitrius. I don’t want to…” Ethel’s silver head bobbed into Eva’s direction and her slightly worried expression changed to a warm smile of recognition when it dawned on her who Eva was.

  “Eva, is that you? I almost didn’t recognize you in a dress. You look beautiful, my dear. That color really suits you. I had no idea you knew Dimitrius. How lovely.”

  Ethel, ever the match maker clapped her hands in obvious glee, and looked between Dimitrius and Eva. At least she wasn’t wearing her glasses, so that was something. The old dear refused to wear them unless she was driving, and she wouldn’t be able to make out the finer nuances of Eva’s disheveled appearance without them.

  Dimitrius smirked at Eva, when she ran her fingers through her hair in a vain effort to restore some order, and gestured for Ethel to sit down.

  “Would you like some tea, while I get the supplies ready?” he asked, and Eva knew she was doing goldfish impressions again, when Ethel smiled, patted his arm indulgently, and sat down in the chair he had previously occupied.

  Had that really been mere moments ago? It felt like a lifetime now, and Eva watched in stunned fascination, as Dimitrius opened the fridge he’d had her pinned against so effectively that she still felt the coldness of the metal against her back.

  He proceeded to empty it out of an endless supply of covered food containers, which he perched on the granite work tops. If Ethel noticed the speed in which he did that, she didn’t comment. She patted the stool next to her and beckoned for Eva to sit down.

  “Come here and fill me in, dear. How do you know our shelter’s oh so secret benefactor. I’m dying to know, and he’ll be a while yet. Though he does do it remarkably fast I have to say.” She smiled up at Eva, when she managed to sit down with a most unladylike thump, but before she could say anything, Dimitrius answered for her.

  “I happened to come across Eva when she pranged her bike.” His accent deepened as he spoke, sending shivers of awareness across Eva’s exposed forearms. Really that voice…It should be illegal and when he said her name it rolled of his tongue like a caress.

  “Oh my goodness, are you okay, Eva. Did you get hurt?”

  Eva shook her head, and almost jumped out of her skin when Dimitrius appeared behind her, and his heavy hand settled on her shoulder. His thumb caressed her nape and everything inside Eva tightened.

  “She was lucky—this time.”

  Eva didn�
��t miss the intonation he put on those last two words, and the Protector inside of her bristled.

  “It was sheer fluke.” She spat the words out through gritted teeth and rolled her shoulder to dislodge his hand, but he simply tightened his hold on her, until it bordered on pain.

  “You were going far too fast for the road conditions, myshka. Like I said you were lucky this time.” He squeezed her shoulder one last time and then removed his hand. He still stood far too close to her, however. So close that his scent enveloped her and she had to fight the urge to lean back against him.

  “Oh my goodness me,” Ethel said, and she reached across to pat Eva’s hand.

  “I’m so glad you were there to take care of her then. I keep telling Eva that bike is not a suitable mode of transport for a young woman, but does she take any notice of me.” She tempered the inherent criticism with a warm smile, and Eva’s sharp retort died on her tongue. The old dear meant well, she knew, but, really.

  “On the contrary,” Dimitrius said, and Ethel looked surprised. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with Eva riding a motor bike. In fact,” he moved away from Eva, and grasped several of the containers from the counter. “Riding a bike suits her.” The look he gave Eva meant she had to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself from moaning. Talk about undressing her with his eyes. For the umpteenth time Eva was glad that Ethel had left her glasses in the car, even if her youthful giggle made her wonder.

  “You would say that, Dimitrius. You men and your toys. I’d have thought you wanted her safe.”

  Dimitrius paused and flashed Ethel his most disarming smile, and Eva wasn’t at all surprised to see the old dear’s cheeks take on a pink tinge.

  “Oh trust me, she will be safe, Ethel. Eva knows I look after what’s mine.” With that he disappeared in a flash, and Eva thought it wisest to keep Ethel occupied and unaware of his whirlwind actions. Surely he ought to be more careful, unless of course Ethel knew what he was. The thought made her mouth dry up in horror, and she poured herself some of the freshly squeezed orange juice to lubricate her throat.