“He chased everyone out of the room before he cornered me in the gallery.”
Looking to Diego, Diana said, “You didn’t see or hear a specific threat.”
“I saw the aftermath,” he replied with some annoyance, but Ramona laid a hand on his arm.
“It’s okay if she doesn’t believe me. Sometimes I’m not sure this is all real myself.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Ramona,” Diana replied. “But if I have to take this to someone else, I need enough information for them to believe me. I don’t have that right now.”
“No, you don’t,” she agreed. “But maybe this will help.” She passed Diana the envelope and photos she had received in the mail. Before coming over, Diego had slipped them into a reclosable plastic bag, hoping to preserve whatever fingerprint evidence might be on the materials.
Diana nodded. “This may help, but let’s go over everything step-by-step.”
Ramona did as she requested, describing every meeting she could think of and every aspect of her relationship with van Winter save one—the terminal illness that had most likely been the reason he had chosen her for his deception.
When Diana questioned her about the money van Winter had paid her and why she hadn’t suspected his true intent, Ramona admitted that her main concern had been her mother’s welfare. Time and time again Diana pressed, trying to elicit one fact or another, and Ramona answered as best she could.
It seemed forever before the agent turned her attention to Diego once again, and by then Ramona had a fierce headache. She rubbed at her temples, grimacing as the pain grew in intensity. She closed her eyes for just a moment, hoping it would pass, but it remained.
When she opened her eyes, she noticed that both Ryder and Diego were staring at her. She felt liquid heat trickling from her nose. Swiping at it, her fingers came away wet with bright red blood.
She pinched her nose and tilted her head back, thinking that this was so wrong. She had taken the new medicines Melissa had prescribed, and she’d been feeling so much better after the transfusion in the early afternoon.
A second later, Diana was kneeling beside her on the couch and pressing ice wrapped in a wet towel against her forehead.
The towel hampered her sight, but Ramona sensed that Ryder and Diego were no longer in the room. “Diego…”
“I asked the men to get us some more ice,” Diana explained, but Ramona sensed the FBI agent was being less than truthful.
A moment later, she felt the sweep of Diana’s hand, pushing the sleeve of her sweater upward to reveal the transfusion marks on her arm. Ramona reacted quickly, brushing her hand away and pulling the sleeve back into place. The damage had been done, however.
With another towel, Diana dabbed at her nostrils, cleaning away the blood there, and little by little, the nosebleed receded and the headache lessened to a bearable ache.
“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the guys come back?” Diana rose and pointed to a door on the far side of the room. “Ryder’s private bathroom.”
Ramona followed her there and, once inside, washed her face and hands.
Diana stood in the doorway, blocking the exit, her arms crossed over her middle. “Those tracks on your arm are pretty extreme. I don’t think you’re a major-league junkie, so what’s the deal?”
Ramona knew there was no use lying. “I’ve got a rare form of anemia. The marks are from the tests and transfusions.”
Diana was blunt and to the point. “Must be pretty serious.”
Ramona decided to be just as straightforward. “Deadly serious. I’m dying.”
Up until now Diana had been all-business. But now compassion softened her eyes. “You haven’t told him, have you?”
“Will you?” Ramona challenged, afraid of all the complications the revelation would bring. Afraid that once Diego knew, she would never be able to explore the emotions that had been developing between them.
Diana vacillated, then cursed beneath her breath and stalked away. She paced, her shoes squeaking on the tiled floor, before she faced her once again. “He’s my friend. I can’t lie to him.”
“I’m not asking you to lie. I just need a little time.”
As before, Diana seemed conflicted. She finally relented, but not before making a demand. “Call your doctor. I get the sense this nosebleed wasn’t a good thing.” She handed Ramona her cell phone.
Ramona wasn’t about to argue, because Diana was right. Dialing Melissa’s number, she hit Send, and was surprised to see Diana’s phone indicate there was a match with her contacts list.
“You know Melissa Danvers?” she asked.
“She’s my sister-in-law,” Diana replied. “And a good doctor. I’ll give you some privacy.” With that, she left the room.
Melissa answered with a cheerful, “Hola, sister-in-law. What’s up?”
“Actually, it’s Ramona Escobar.” She hesitated, sure that Melissa had to be wondering why she was on Diana’s phone, but then plowed forward. “My cell phone died.”
“Something’s wrong?” Melissa asked, shifting from friend to doctor mode.
“Whopper of a headache followed by a small nosebleed.”
From close to the mouthpiece came the sounds of a baby starting to fuss. Melissa gently cooed to her daughter and called out to her husband. Ramona said, “Listen, I’m fine now.”
“I’m going to recheck the earlier blood tests, and maybe we should run some more. Can you come by tomorrow morning so I can take another look at you?”
“Sure.” What else did she have to do besides avoiding van Winter, working on her final painting and hiding the truth from Diego?
Chapter 12
D iego held Ramona’s hand as they walked down the stairs, leaving Diana and Ryder in the office. Down below, in the main area of the club, a different band had taken the stage and the lights had been dimmed, creating a darker and infinitely more intimate atmosphere. One that he decided not to waste.
“How are you feeling?” He peered down at her, and even in the shadowy light, a flush of color was evident on her cheeks. Her hands, however, were chilled.
“I’m feeling better. Care to dance?” she asked, preempting him by posing the question.
“I’d love to.”
He twined his fingers with hers and eased near, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He wrapped one arm around her waist, closing the distance between them.
She slipped her arms to his back, urging him tight, and swayed with him to the insinuating beat of the bass. Diego focused on the beat of her heart.
He bent his head and inhaled her scent, fresh and clean, but with the faint remnant of blood. The sight of it, bright and red on her skin from the nosebleed, had driven him and Ryder from the room before their demons had emerged enough to be noticed.
The demon within him fixated on that faint scent now, but Diego chased the vampire away, wanting just one thing for this night. To be human.
He allowed himself to revel in the press of her body, so slight against his greater size, and in the soft curves shaping themselves to his hardness. He wanted to sink into all that softness and lose himself in her humanity.
In the dark intimacy of the crowd, he reached between their bodies and cradled her breast, caressing it until
her nipple pebbled to life beneath his fingers. He found the tip and caressed it, delighting in the murmured moan that slipped from her lips and the way her fingers dug into the muscles of his back.
With small steps, he gradually inched them off the dance floor to the edge of the room, where it was darker, and found an outcropping in the fake stone wall. He eased them behind it, providing a smidgen of privacy, which he seized, slipping his hand under her sweater.
She was naked beneath the fabric.
Finding her skin smooth and slightly damp, he inched his hand up until her tight nipple nestled against his palm. She moaned once again and he stroked his thumb back and forth across the tip until she brought her hand up and covered his.
“Can we go home? I don’t want it to be here,” she whispered against his lips.
“What don’t you want to be here?” he asked, dropping a kiss at the side of her mouth even as he caressed her breast again.
“The first time we truly make love.”
As they rushed to her apartment, he actually wished that Ramona knew he was a vampire. He could have used his supernatural speed to get back instead of hailing a cab and battling the traffic.
Somehow he kept his hands from wandering during the short ride up to her loft, not wishing to press. He wanted to let things move slowly so that when they did make love, there would be no doubt on either of their parts.
His inner voice warned that there wasn’t enough time to eliminate all the doubts he felt, but he shoved that voice away. His vampire self had nothing to do with what was about to happen, since he refused to allow the demon to interfere tonight. He wanted to be human for Ramona. He wanted her to experience all that a man and woman should when they cared for each other.
The demon within him knew nothing of that. It knew only about the call of the blood in her veins and the sex that roused it to violence.
When they reached her loft, he helped her roll open the door. They barely managed to close it before they went into each other’s arms.
The urgency that hadn’t left him since the Lair redoubled, but he tempered his need. Ramona wasn’t the kind of woman who did this lightly. He wanted it to be special for her.
He wanted, for this night, to forget that forever wasn’t possible for them because of what he was and would forever be. He wanted to forget that the woman in his arms had secrets.
The shudder that racked Diego’s body warned Ramona of the insanity of continuing. She could never give him any of the things a man wanted. Time would not allow her that.
Selfish as it was, however, she also didn’t want this night to end. If she could somehow stop time, this was where she would pause the moment for eternity.
Risking a peek at him, she noted his indecision, but also the carefully banked need as he brushed his lips against hers and said, “I can’t promise anything.”
“Neither can I.”
Those words released his restraint, and he opened his mouth, deepened the kiss. She accepted him, welcoming the thrust of his tongue and the promise of his arms as he tightened his hold on her.
She met the dance of his tongue with hers, and tasted him. Memorized the crush of his hard body, so big and strong compared to hers. Her breath ragged against his lips, she pressed herself to him.
He answered by sweeping one arm beneath her knees and lifting her off the floor. With a whirl, he carried her to her bed at the far end of the loft. He set her down beside the four-poster, and then sat on the edge. Denied the loving crush of his body, she protested, until he smiled at her, grasped her upper arms and urged her into the vee of his widespread legs. His intent became clear then. She reached down and, with trembling hands, pulled her sweater up and over her head, exposing herself.
He cupped her breasts and strummed his thumbs across her nipples, beading them into pebbly points. She moaned and laid her hands on his shoulders as her knees grew weak.
His ice-blue eyes had darkened with desire when he finally looked up. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before he put his mouth to one breast and tenderly sucked the tip.
Between her legs, the pulse of her desire thickened and grew into needy throbs with each pull of his mouth and tweak of his fingers. Unsteady, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders while she cradled his head, her fingers tunneling into the long strands of his thick hair. She urged him on with soft cries.
“Shh, amor,” Diego whispered against her breast, and as he had before, he lifted her, reversing their positions on the bed so that she was now the one sitting on the edge and he was the supplicant before her, begging for her touch.
She didn’t disappoint him, quickly yanking off the knit Henley to reveal his upper body and run her hands along the muscles of his abdomen. She pressed her mouth to the center of his torso and tongued the ridge of muscle there, then rose off the bed to allow her mouth and tongue access to his chest.
She slipped her lips over a nipple, tugging and sucking on it, and he shuddered, loving the feel of her mouth and hands on him and the way her breasts brushed his body as she sought to please him. His erection throbbed, needing attention.
“Touch me,” he said, urging her hand downward until it cupped him through the soft fabric of his jeans.
It wasn’t enough for him. She must have sensed it, for she sat back on the edge of the bed and with trembling hands undid his snap and zipper, tugging down his pants. She encircled him with one hand and stroked him, the pull of her hand drawing a shaky breath from him.
Heavy-lidded and sensuous, her dark brown eyes were nearly black with passion as she asked, “Can I kiss you here?”
“Por favor,” he groaned. She bent, brushed the faintest kiss across the tip, but it was enough to make him jump in her hand. A sexy half smile came to her lips before she completed the kiss, sucking the tip of him into her mouth while she caressed him with her hands.
He closed his eyes for a moment, the sight of her going down on him almost too much to bear. Excitement and desire rose faster than he’d imagined possible, awakening the demon in him. It knew what would normally come next.
The shock of that realization jolted Diego.
Ramona wasn’t like the others. She was special, and he needed to show her that.
Easing away from her caress, he kicked off his jeans and briefs before returning to where she sat, a puzzled look on her face. He eased her confusion by saying, “I want this to be about us together.”
He urged her to lie down on the bed so that he could remove her jeans. She was naked beneath them and his body grew heavy at the thought of sliding into her, but he battled back that image, not wanting to rush.
He met her gaze and held out his hand. “Come with me.” He knelt on the bed, shifted until he was in the middle and she was beside him. Slowly he eased them down onto the sheet until they were lying side by side, their bodies brushing against each other.
Tenderly he reached up and cradled her face in his hands. He hesitated, wanting to tell her how much this meant to him, but words failed him, so instead, he kissed her. The kiss was delicate and inviting, urging her to join him.
She answered, moving perfectly in sync with him. When he lifted one hand to her breast, she followed, tracing the edge of his nipple with her finger. She slipped her hand downward to caress him, and he lowered his hand between he
r legs, parting her to find her center.
Ramona sucked in a ragged breath as he eased one finger inside her. Raising her thigh, she slipped it over his, providing him greater access. He accepted her invitation, easing yet another finger deep within, mimicking what he would do later with his body.
He felt her, wet and hot. And he wanted it, too.
She shifted to her back and guided him to her. As she looked up at him, she noticed the tight lines of his body, the restraint he had been showing up until now, and said, “Release yourself.”
Diego’s arms shook as he poised above her, the tip of him at the moist entrance of her womb. Her words reverberated through his skull, awakening the darkness within him, rousing the beast who normally emerged for such diversions.
Shaking his head, he forced back the vampire, wanting his human self to experience the delights of her body and the comfort of the arms she wrapped around him. “Come with me, amor.”
She reached to the nightstand, dragged out a small packet and with a speed that surprised him, opened it and eased the condom over him, tenderly stroking even as she positioned him between her legs.
He slipped inside her tightness, overwhelmed not just by the sensation of her warm, willing body accepting his, but by the tenderness of her kiss against his brow and the loving caress of her hand across his face before she sank back down onto the mattress and met his gaze.
He saw it then. The love he had never expected to see again in his eternal life. The promise of so much more than just the physical release their bodies craved. The emotion was so strong it nearly undid him, and so he closed his eyes, focusing on the union of their bodies.
He moved tentatively at first, acclimating himself to feel her beneath him, the tightness around him, slick with the passion he had earlier aroused.
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