This was so not going to end well.
“Hmm. You keep picking at your food like that and I’ll have to carry you onto the dance floor.” The look on his face was warm with sensuality.
“Pfft. In your dreams.” She took a huge mouthful of the pasta and nearly choked on it.
“Oh, yeah, that’s much better. I’ve dreamed of performing the Heimlich on you.”
She glared at him as she chewed vigorously on the pasta. His only response was a challenging grin. “I don’t have to put up with abuse, you know,” she replied once she’d swallowed.
“I bet there are people just lining up to abuse you.”
“Ha ha. That’s very funny, Mr. Charming.”
“That would be Detective Charming to you.”
She’d never expected to actually have fun on the date. “How many princesses did you have to suck up to before one would finally kiss you?”
He raised one golden brow. “Ribbit.”
She couldn’t help herself. She dissolved into helpless laughter. Not even the self-satisfied expression on his face could dampen it.
He held up a forkful of his shrimp scampi and offered her a bite. “Want to try something different?”
She felt the laughter die away, to be replaced by wariness. It wasn’t just a bite of shrimp he was offering. If she accepted that stupid, buttery shrimp, she’d also be accepting the man who went with it.
Beth was nothing if not cautious. She never took a serious life-altering step without analyzing it to death, resurrecting it, and then analyzing it some more. The fact that Dante was a Nephilim, like Seth, should have had her running out the door and back to her apartment.
As much as she wanted to look into the puzzle of the Neph, she just wasn’t sure she wanted to get involved with one.
Especially one as stubborn as Dante Zucco.
Dante’s gaze dared her to run, and she swore his eyes glowed with fiery light.
Damn it to hell.
She accepted the proffered bite.
* * *
Dante was enjoying himself more with Elizabeth than he’d thought possible. Once in the club, she’d pulled him out onto the dance floor with an enthusiasm he’d found enchanting. She’d done her best to dance him into the ground too, and had been surprised—unpleasantly so to judge by her expression—when he’d not only managed to keep up but had begun to outlast her.
It was hard going, though. Watching her body move in those tight pants and sweater had his blood pumping in a way that had nothing to do with dancing and everything to do with the way her ass shook in those sinful leather pants. He wondered if she’d move with that same sensuality and energy if she was under him in bed.
Just the thought of it was enough to send him back out onto the dance floor, fantasies flitting one after another as he pulled her tight against him. It was all he could do not to drag her off the dance floor and into one of the shadowed corners to devour her.
It was pure torture to feel her move against him, smiling like the cat who’d gotten the cream. He told himself over and over again that he’d end the evening, leave before things got to the point of no return, but they’d passed that stage way before he’d had a chance to react. Now, all he could do was watch, and want her.
And he did want her, to the point of madness. It was insane, how badly he wanted Elizabeth. She was everything he’d thought he didn’t want in a woman, all hard planes and angles, no softness or give to her at all. She would challenge him every chance she got, fight him every step of the way, and in general make his life...
Interesting.
At least he’d never be bored.
He’d be able to talk about work without fear that she’d demand more than he could give, and he’d be able to return the favor. She even knew his deepest secret, yet here she was, rubbing against him and making him crazy. She teased him, tantalized him and challenged him in ways she probably didn’t even realize. He wanted her under him, over him, any way he could get her. He wanted to fuck her over and over again until they both were drained, exhausted. He wanted to know if she would use her nails on his skin, and how it would feel to watch her shatter in his arms. If he could get her to that point, they would be explosive together.
Neither of them was the type for a one-night stand. He knew enough about her background to know that she’d never go for that sort of relationship. A not-so-quick phone call to Lakisha had told him more than just Elizabeth’s home life had sucked.
Her mother bounced from man to man, never thinking of the consequences of her actions. If his information was correct, she was on the verge of leaving husband number five, and had had numerous affairs, married or not.
And her father was absentee, leaving Elizabeth in her mother’s hands.
It had left a mark on her. Instead of becoming like her parents, she was loyal, dedicated and—
She wriggled her ass against his aching erection.
And absolutely the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
It was all he could do to keep his hands off her ass and on her waist, but even that was a temptation. That barely there strip of smooth skin teased him to push that sweater up, cup her small breasts in his hands. He bet they’d fit in his palms, the perfect size to toy with.
She pulled his head down. “Thirsty?”
He nodded, but before he could move she walked away from him toward the bar. She’d insisted, since he’d paid for dinner and the admission to the club, on buying all the drinks. He didn’t mind. He didn’t plan on drinking much, anyway. He’d need a clear head to deal with his throbbing dick once they were back at her apartment.
He wanted her, but he wasn’t going to fuck her.
Not tonight.
No matter how badly he wanted to.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the asshole from the other night, the one who’d put a bruise on her. The jerk noticed him at roughly the same time and flinched.
Good. Let the fucker keep on going. In fact, Dante should just follow behind him and encourage him to leave the club altogether.
Maybe even the state.
Hell, Delaware was kind of small. He could force the guy to head toward the West coast.
“What are you scowling at?” Elizabeth yelled in his ear over the music.
He turned to her and took his drink. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair had decided to do its own thing, going wild around her face. She looked like she’d just been made love to. “The jerk who gave you the bruise saw me.”
Her eyes widened behind her glasses. “He’s here?”
He could see the speculative look as she glanced around and decided to head her off at the pass. He grabbed her arm and dragged her away. “He’s not worth it, Elizabeth.”
Just as he pulled her onto the dance floor, the fast-paced music gave way to a slow, dreamy tune. Trying not to think of the consequences, Dante pulled Elizabeth into his arms and began to dance.
What scared him, and made him determined to protect her over everyone else, was the fact that she fitted against him as if they were made for each other. That sensation Seth had tried once to describe to him, the one that told his brother that Abby was the woman for him, now made perfect sense.
Elizabeth Rand was his, whether she knew it or not.
“Fuck me sideways.”
He blinked, shocked. “What?”
She wasn’t looking at him, but over his shoulder. “Todd Blessing is in the club.”
He cursed under his breath and turned them so he could see the would-be governor and his companion. “Is that Kensington with him?”
“Yup.” The heat of passion no longer lit her features. Instead, his girl was on the hunt, watching Blessing and Kensington with an intensity he was all too familiar with.
Something about the way the
two of them moved, the way they kept darting peeks to each other and away again put Dante on alert. The moment they made a move to leave the club he followed, aware Elizabeth wasn’t too far behind him.
Something was up, something weird, and he was going to find out what. He grabbed their jackets and her purse out of their booth and hurried after the two men. He managed to keep them in sight almost to the parking lot, watching as the two men climbed into a gold Lincoln and sped off into the night.
“Damn.” Her shoulders sagged. “Tell me I’m not the only one who thinks something strange is going on.”
“You aren’t.” Dante began steering her toward his car. “Let’s see if we can find them.”
Beth shook her head. “I think they’re long gone, but I’m game if you are.”
She stepped around the hood of his car to slide into the passenger seat when something set off an alarm bell. He turned his head just in time to see the dark truck speeding toward her.
She had no time to react. She was going to get hit.
He leapt over the hood of the car and yanked her on top of it just as the truck side-swiped his sedan. Dante was thrown off the hood and landed against the curb, sending searing pain through his shoulder and arm.
“Dante!” Beth landed next to him as the dark truck sped off into the night, barely slowing down to right itself as it took off.
He sat up with a groan and a hastily bit off curse. He was pretty sure he was only bruised. More importantly, someone had tried to kill Elizabeth.
Someone had tried to kill the woman who meant more to him than anything. It was all he could do not to burst into flame on the spot.
He stepped around the hood of his car, and examined the huge dent the dark truck had put in it, in utter silence. When he finally looked at her, the fact that she was perfectly all right couldn’t still the violence in him.
Someone was going to die for this, for trying to snuff out Elizabeth’s life.
* * *
“Well,” she sighed as she inserted her key into her lock, “you certainly are a fun date.”
He hadn’t said a word since the police had left them alone. There hadn’t been much to tell them, but Dante would need to fill in a report for his chief the following day.
She felt extremely disappointed. The date had started out wonderfully, only to end in near disaster.
At least before this he’d talked to her, even if it was to yell at her or tease her, or even threaten her with jail time. Now he just stared into space—the only sign that he was still alive the occasional clenching of his hands.
She opened her door, the warm light from her kitchen that she always left on spilling out into the cold night to illuminate the harsh planes of Dante’s face. She grinned ruefully. “I actually had a good time tonight, up until we almost died. Thanks, Dante.” She turned away from him with a wave and started into her apartment, but when she went to shut the door she found his hand holding it open.
“You’re off the case.”
She stared up at him, shocked. His stare was implacable, his tone ice cold. He meant what he’d said. “What happened tonight was not my fault, Dante.”
“I know that.” He wasn’t giving an inch, and his tone set her hackles up.
“Look, I have as much interest, maybe even more now, in seeing Blake’s murderer put in jail. You think you can tell me to give this case up?” She stepped outside again and punched her finger into his chest. “You’ve got another think coming if you think some jerk with a driver’s license and a vendetta is going to get rid of me that easily! I. Don’t. Give. Up.” She punctuated each word with a hard jab, but he didn’t even budge. “Not you, not your boss, no one is going to pull me off this case. You got that, Detective?”
He stared down at her for a long moment. She found herself breathing heavily, waiting for the counterattack.
When it came, she was totally taken by surprise.
She let out a small shriek when he picked her up under her arms and lifted her easily into her apartment. He gently set her down in her living room, turned and slammed her door closed.
When he began to stalk toward her, she swallowed the urge to back up. His face looked as if it was made from granite, his expression hot and hard and focused one hundred percent on her. She faced him head on, ready for the fight she knew was coming.
“You’ve been threatened, twice.”
“Twice?”
He took a deep breath. “A Shem Angelus told me you wouldn’t survive the week. Two days later, someone tries to kill you.”
A shiver went down her spine. “You think it was a Shem behind the wheel.”
“I’m taking you to Gabriel.” Fire danced within his eyes, eclipsing the iris almost completely. It should have creeped her the hell out, but instead she found it erotic. “You’ll be safe there until I catch this fucker.”
He wasn’t listening. She was not going to hide away while he faced the bad guy alone. “I don’t think so.”
“You can’t face a Shem, Beth.” It was the first time he’d ever shortened her name, and strangely enough, she missed the way he said Elizabeth. “You’re human.”
“I took care of Diana.”
“That was pure dumb luck.”
“And good aim.” No way was he going to dismiss how she’d saved Abby and Seth.
He took hold of her arms and shook her. “He will fucking eat you, Beth. I’ve seen the bodies, I know what a Shem kill looks like. I won’t find you the same way.”
No matter how his voice shook, whether it was from rage or fear or a combination of both, Elizabeth Rand had taken on a case. Just because the suspect was now some mythological creature that ate people made no difference to her. “I’m staying on the case.”
He growled, flames licking up and down his arms. Strangely enough, his fire didn’t burn her.
“Dante. Stop it.”
“Damn it, Elizabeth.” When he put his mouth on hers she nearly whimpered. His lips were rough, demanding against hers, and she found herself unable to hold back her response. Her arms twined around his neck, both of her hands clenched in his hair as she urged him closer. She barely heard his groan as he forced her lips apart and tasted her. Lightning raced through her body as he invaded her mouth.
She found his taste intoxicating, far more so than the single rum and Coke she’d allowed herself at the dance club.
Suddenly she found herself being held up against the wall, Dante thrusting one powerful thigh between her legs as he ravished her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair, gripping her head so tightly it almost hurt. She felt the scrape of his teeth against her lips and moaned greedily, answering his demands with her own.
She rode his thigh without thought, a sensuous rhythm that sent heat racing through her body. His mouth moved from hers to her neck, his teeth biting, nibbling, leaving his mark on her. Gasping, she threw her head back as far as the wall would allow.
She wanted his mark, needed it to prove they were both alive.
His hands were rough under her sweater, pulling the material up and cupping her breasts. Her hands clenched in his hair, pulling him down as she felt his teeth scrape against her. When he lifted his head, his breathing had turned harsh.
She looked up at him through fogged glasses. Before he could say a word, she dragged his mouth down to hers and returned his kiss hungrily. She could feel a tremendous orgasm building, her spine tingling as his lips and his hands continued to torment her.
She felt his erection against her hip as his body eased sideways down against her own, that thick thigh staying right where she needed it to be. His hands caressed her as his mouth ravaged hers, pinching and twisting at her nipples, and she shuddered. One hand slid down his chest and landed at the belt of his pants, tugging at the buckle.
When he pulled back and dro
pped her it was a shock to her senses. She stared up at him, unable to decipher the look on his face as he ran a shaking hand through his hair.
“Not like this,” he said huskily, still breathing hard.
“What?” she asked, confused and quivering. “Not what?”
He shook his head. “Not here. Not now.” He took a deep, cleansing breath. “Not while we’re pissed at each other.”
She licked her lips and tasted him. His gaze followed the movement before he closed his eyes and turned away from her to pace the tiny living room. “What’s wrong with here and now?”
He turned swiftly and growled at her, “Because you just nearly got killed.”
She smiled cynically. “Oh, so you’re not really into quick adrenaline fucks.” Even she was surprised at the brittle tone she used. She’d been this close, and to have him pull back at the last minute? Pure torture.
She found herself pinned against the wall faster than she could blink. “Because when I fuck you it won’t be because of adrenaline. It won’t be because either of us wants a quick fuck, either.” He sighed and released her arms, placing his hands on either side of her head. “You are not your mother, and I won’t use you like some cheap whore because I got all excited. When we go to bed together, and we will go to bed together, it will damn well be because neither one of us can resist the other. Not for any other reason.”
“I wasn’t resisting, and if you were you’re a damned good actor.”
He took her chin gently in his hand and rubbed his thumb against her bottom lip. Her breath caught at the contact, at the look in his eyes as he bent and kissed her gently, sweetly, before putting her away from him. “It’s called respect, Elizabeth, for both of us.” He grinned ruefully. “Believe it or not, no matter what you think, I do respect you.”
He turned away with a rough sigh and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.” He opened the door and let himself out.
The Fire Within Page 12