She sensed his presence behind her, then felt the warm caress of his breath against her ear. “To control the light, you need to love the dark,” he whispered, and she shivered at the warm thrill that went through her at the seductive sound of his voice. A tiny little flame appeared in front of her. She gasped. It danced upon his palm, swaying and flickering to its own rhythm. She stared at it, mesmerised. He turned his hand gracefully, and she watched as the flame licked at his skin, yet left no mark.
With a snap of his fingers, the flame leapt across the room to dance from one candle to the next, leaving a path of golden light in its wake.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, as the room slowly lit up, like a dragon awakening from its slumber.
“It can harm or heal,” he said. He turned her in his arms, lowering his head until he met her gaze directly. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Uh …” Oh, dear. She hadn’t planned on actually doing any soul-sharing, but he’d just told her he was part of a race everyone thought had died out. She couldn’t very well leave him hanging.
“I’ve entrusted a pretty major secret with you,” he told her. “One that puts not only me but my whole tribe at risk. Surely you can tell me about your truthseeking.”
Her eyes rounded. “How did you—” she began, then snapped her mouth shut. She’d pretty much shown him in the den. She hadn’t intended to reveal her gift, but she guessed she’d been pretty obvious—and Max was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.
She sighed. “Fine. I’m a truthseeker.”
He smiled. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t like people knowing,” she said, lacing her tone with warning. It was a vulnerability that could be fatal.
Max nodded. “I once saw a truthseeker ripped apart at a corporate takeover when he highlighted a fallacy told by one of the CEOs.” He tilted his head. “Does your law firm know?”
She shook her head. “No. Apart from various members of my families, nobody else knows.” She grimaced. “Well, apart from Dave, apparently.”
“You could earn quite a living with your gift,” he remarked.
She laughed. “I could also paint a target on my back and walk down Main Street. Truthseekers are valuable until they’re not. Then they’re a liability that has to be neutralised.”
Max frowned. “Is that how you see yourself? A liability?”
“No, but I understand some would definitely see me as a threat.” She knew that from experience, had the talons to prove it. “Nobody likes to be called a liar, especially in front of others.”
His eyes narrowed. “Can you compel the truth?”
She sighed. “No. I can sense deceit, but I can’t make you tell the truth.” She patted her pocket, the little pouch of herbs Dave had mixed for her a little bump in the fabric. “At least, not without help.”
Understanding lightened his eyes. “Ah. The lipstick.”
Her cheeks warmed as memories of kissing him in the hotel room resurfaced. “Yes. The lipstick you stole from me.” The lipstick that was now lost, damn it. “So that’s it. I know your secret, and you know mine.” And each could cause the other irreparable harm if it was used against them. She wasn’t sure what to think—this conversation could either solidify a connection—or give them a weapon to use against each other. The last time she’d revealed her secret, it hadn’t ended well.
She turned away from him.
“Don’t,” he said, stopping her with a hand on her arm.
“Don’t what?” she said, looking at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t turn away, as though you’re trying to hide it.” He pulled her back to him, his hand reaching up to cradle her face. “You don’t need to hide anything from me.” He smiled. “Because apparently I can’t hide anything from you.”
“Oh, you can still hide the truth,” she told him. “I can only tell that you’re lying, I can’t actually see your truth.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Ask me something.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Ask you what?”
He shrugged, a lazy glint in his eye. “Anything. Ask me anything.”
She was so tempted—but she was his lawyer, and he was her client. This kind of flirtation, this kind of conversation and where it could lead—it just wasn’t ethical. No matter how much she wanted to indulge her fantasies about this man, she couldn’t. Shouldn’t.
“What did you think of me when we first met?” Screw ethics. She was a lawyer. She had none.
He trailed his finger over her shoulder and down her back, and she shivered as her nipples tightened inside the lacy cups of her camisole. “I thought you were the most repulsive woman I’d ever met.”
She blinked at the cool wash, then tried not to smile. “Liar.”
He rested his hand on her butt, his head so close to hers, she felt the warmth of his breath down her neck and across her chest. “I thought you must have been the dumbest chick, taking my case on.”
Cold tendrils embraced her. She arched her eyebrow. “I know what you’re doing.”
His blue gaze skimmed over her features before focusing on her lips. He cupped her butt and pulled her up against him, and she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her. “I can’t stand being this close to you,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers. The chill of his deception was quickly swept away by the heat of his kiss. There was no hesitation, no tentative persuasion. His tongue swept into her mouth to caress hers as he pulled her close against him.
She tore her lips from his, panting. “God, Max. We can’t. You’re my client,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his mouth. He leaned forward, his cheek brushing hers.
“Ryder,” he whispered into her ear before nipping her lobe.
She shuddered, her eyes closing as desire surged inside her. “I can’t get involved with my clients,” she said in an attempt to be good, to be strong—to deny herself the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world … the embrace of this man.
“Fine, you’re fired,” he muttered against her neck, then bit her lightly, before lifting his head to kiss her again.
Ethics, schmethics. She’d tried to be good, but he was just too good at tempting her to be bad. She entwined her arms around his neck, kissing him back. Her breasts rubbed against his chest. She moaned. She could feel her nipples caressing his ridges and bumps through their clothes. He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked backwards to find the bed and sit on it.
She straddled his legs as he ran his hands through her hair, pulling her head back so he could nibble on her neck. She trembled, enjoying the sharp pricks of pain, like a tiny burn before he licked it better, replacing the burn with the cool draft of his breath on wet skin.
His hands dropped to her waist, sliding under the fabric of her shirt and camisole. She shuddered at the warm contact, gasping as his hands rose up her back, his nails scratching her gently. She clutched at the soft fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, then grew frustrated by the barrier. Her talons slid out, just a little, and her breath caught at the pain of the injured one that scratched the inside of her flesh, and refused to engage.
Max pulled back, a small frown on his face. “What’s wrong?” He grabbed her hand, pulling it back to see the tips of her talons—and the finger that remained unchanged.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered. “Just a by-product of the car accident. Forget it.”
He tsked, then drew the finger into his mouth. She shuddered. She wasn’t sure if the gesture was meant to soothe her or drive her insensible with lust. Oddly, it did both, the wet warmth easing some of the pain, yet the heat in his gaze as he met her eyes, slowly withdrawing her finger from his mouth—it was carnal and suggestive, giving birth to a curiosity to see just how steamy things could get between them. Her panties grew damp with her desire, and she twisted her hand out of his grasp and used her talons to shred his shirt from his body.
She trailed her fingers down his chest, relishing his strength. She flicked his nipple, then gasped, her head lolling back as he did the same to her. She squealed when he rolled her onto the bed. He caressed her shoulder, a finger playing with the thin strap of her camisole. She met his gaze, panting, then shuddered as he ripped the silk and lace from her body. His eyes flared as he gazed upon her breasts, and they paused for a moment, each taking their fill of the other.
He frowned, reaching out to touch the silver scars across her midriff and side. She bit her lip, waiting for some sign of distaste, of pity. He surprised her, leaning down to kiss the scars tenderly, one by one, then lifted his gaze to hers. There was so much compassion in his eyes, it was humbling—and reassuring. His gaze drifted over her body, and the warmth of compassion was slowly replaced by the heat of desire.
He reached for her with both hands, gliding his touch down her sides. She arched into his caress, moaning, then helped him undo the button and fly of her jeans. She kicked off her boots and lifted her hips as he dragged the denim and lace panties down her body, pulling her socks off along with them.
He stood, unzipping his jeans and hurriedly shucking off the rest of his clothes before joining her back on the bed. His muscles rippled with his movement, the corded strength breathtaking as he came to her. She sighed as his bare skin came in contact with hers.
So much heat, so much strength. He was hard against her soft curves. He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue rubbing against hers as he palmed her breasts. She moaned, trailing her hands over his back and shoulders as he kissed his way down her body to pay homage to her breasts.
He sucked one nipple into his mouth while he played with the other. She arched into his touch, trembling with need as he seduced her with his tongue and fingers with a carnal skill that left her breathless.
He switched his mouth from one nipple to the other, and she gasped as he bit the rosy peak lightly, then licked. She writhed as he kissed his way down further, nipping and licking a path of molten desire until he spread her thighs with his hands, keeping them apart with his broad shoulders.
His glance met hers briefly, between the valley of her breasts, and she shuddered at the hot look in his eyes. Her jaw dropped as the pale blue shimmered into silver and all of the candles in the room flared to life.
He dipped his head between her thighs and sighed, bathing her in his warm breath. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, then jolted when his tongue licked at her need, a strange heat rolling over her. She could feel his tongue sliding along the opening of her body, and could feel, almost taste her body against his tongue.
Her eyes shot open as he kissed her nubbin, feeling his lips, his tongue, his heat on her body, yet feeling the warm slickness in his mouth, confused yet delirious with desire until realisation dawned. She could feel what he felt. She didn’t understand it, but the sensations bombarding her were both hers—and his. The pleasure she felt was doubled with his feedback, and she writhed as he sucked on her clit, exquisite bliss exploding through her. She moaned as he licked her gently, bringing her down from her orgasm with tender care, before waging a campaign of pleasure again.
Her eyes widened as his tongue flicked against her, and a finger slid inside her. Her thighs trembled, as yet again she was bombarded with dual sensations as he explored that hot, secret spot of hers. Her body clenched, and she not only felt her internal muscles tighten, she experienced it from his mind, the warm embrace of her body as it craved whatever he could give her. He kissed her thoroughly, down there, his fingers tweaking her desire until she closed her eyes and screamed as another delicious orgasm broke over her.
He lifted his head from between her thighs, satisfaction and hunger warring within his eyes as he kissed his way up her body. She enveloped him in her arms, his lean, muscular body covering hers. She arched her back as he slid inside her, inch by slow, tantalising wicked inch.
Her body was already so sensitised from what he’d done to her, she quivered in ecstasy as she sensed not only his body entering hers, but her body welcoming him. His silver gaze held hers as he slid home, her hips cradling his, his hands braced either side of her as he withdrew, and she moaned at the slick feel of his withdrawal, his pause, then his smooth glide in to the hilt.
His hips undulating in a sexy, steamy dance, he repeated the process, and she shuddered at the intense pleasure building in her body, building in his. His pace increased, his mesmerising gaze on hers as he shared his experience with her. She didn’t know how the connection worked, didn’t care, she just opened herself up to it, revealing the sensations, the tight need spiralling inside her, the climb from pleasure to heaven that was painful in its exquisite beauty.
It was too much. The heat, the light, the deep, deep pleasure. Her breath hitched, held, then she screamed as a blinding orgasm wrenched her away from sanity, her neck arching as wave after blissful wave crashed over her, over him. He shouted as he thrust into her, his hips flexing as he let go of his control and found his release. Over and over, the thrilling peaks were climbed, crested and climbed again until a bone-numbing satisfaction swept over them both.
He slid to the side and gathered her close. It took several moments for her heart rate to slow, for the pounding in her ears to recede, and for her toes to uncurl. She laughed breathlessly.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped, “That was—” She stopped. Words failed her, but a mental fog started to lift.
“Uh-huh,” he panted, grinning.
She laughed again. “I was wrong. Ryder does suit you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ryder awoke, recharged and revived. Sex had a way of restoring energy in a light warrior, but what he and Vassi had done far surpassed sex. He pulled her body close, all warm and soft in sleep.
He’d bonded with her. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d found himself opening up to her as he’d made love to her, wanting to get inside her head and let her inside his. His arm stole around her waist, and he felt the faint ridges across her side.
Scars.
Since when do vampires have scars? Or talons?
He’d seen the vulnerability in her eyes when he’d touched the marks on her body. He’d been touched by her trust. Someone had obviously caused her great pain, someone she’d allowed to get close to her. She’d been so distrustful with him at first, so hesitant to share her secret. He valued the trust she’d placed in him, would treasure it, would defend it—and her—with his last breath.
Her breathing changed, and she wriggled her hips back against his as she slowly woke up. Arousal throbbed through him. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of his sexy little vamp. He’d made love to her and wanted to do so again. And again, until they fell asleep again from sexual exhaustion.
She turned in his arms to look up him, her expression open and warm. “Hey, you.”
He leaned down to kiss her slowly, then pulled back to look down at her. “Hey, you.” He trailed his hand down her body and again felt the upraised skin. He frowned. “What happened here?” It wasn’t just werewolves that could self-heal. Vampires could too, even half-bloods, if her recovery from the car accident was anything to go by.
“Nothing,” she said, a slight mark appearing on her forehead. She turned fully to face him, effectively removing his hand from her stomach. “We should probably get up before Dave comes looking for us.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Dave can wait until hell freezes over as far as I’m concerned.” He slid his arm around her and gathered her against him. He didn’t want to let her go, to lose this moment. He’d never felt so close to anybody else in his life.
> “What happened to you, Vassi? And why does a half-blood have talons?” They weren’t natural, they were an enhancement, probably installed by a miscreant surgeon.
“It happened a long time ago, Ryder, so long I’ve forgotten most of it.”
Warmth flared within him at her use of his name. If he’d known a bout of lovemaking would make that happen, he would have done it much, much sooner.
“I don’t believe you,” he whispered against the top of her head before kissing it.
She pulled back to meet his gaze squarely. “If I tell you, will you tell me why you left your family?”
He arched an eyebrow. “You’re beginning to sound like Dave, wanting something for something.”
She smiled dryly. “That’s the way of things in the miscreant world. There’s always an agenda.”
His eyebrows rose. “And what’s your agenda?”
“Well, at the moment, it’s trying to prove your innocence.” She rolled away from him, dragging the sheet with her. The glide of cotton across his naked body was almost a caress, but he’d prefer the touch came from her hands, her body.
“Are you trying to avoid the question?”
She sighed, glancing back at him over her shoulder, her long dark hair cascading in waves down her back. “No, it’s just difficult to talk about, sometimes.”
His curiosity was mounting, but he wouldn’t prod her. When she trusted him, she’d tell him. “That’s fine.” He leaned forward, sliding his arm about her waist and tugging her back into bed.
She nestled back against him. “When I was ten, I was visiting my father,” she said quietly, and he stilled. “I got into a fight with one of my cousins, called him on a lie, told him I was a truthseeker, that I knew he was lying.”
He hugged her closer, sensing her discomfort. He wasn’t sure if it was from talking to him, or the topic of their conversation. Either way, he wanted her to feel reassured.
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