by Lynsay Sands
“Did Mary and Randall know about immortals before your mother’s death?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted slowly. “I presumed so, but maybe not.”
“But they definitely flew back to America with that knowledge intact,” Santo muttered thoughtfully.
Pet eyed him with curiosity. “Is that unusual?”
“Sì.” Santo nodded. It was very unusual, and normally wouldn’t have happened . . . unless there was a concern that Pet and Quinn were still in danger from the rogue immortals who had killed the rest of their family. The Stones might have needed that knowledge to keep the girls safe.
He supposed, at the time, that threat would have been a definite possibility if someone in this Brass Circle had discovered the twins yet lived and where they were. While the very fact that these rogues had a name like Brass Circle suggested they were organized where most rogues weren’t, there were other concerns here too that made that a possibility. The leader’s letting the girls live, but not doing so openly, for instance. That was an indication that he either wasn’t the actual leader, just the leader of that attack with orders to kill the whole family, or that he hadn’t been confident enough in his control over the other men in the organization that they would have obeyed his decision to let them live. Had he worried others in the group might insist on killing Pet and Quinn?
Santo considered that briefly, and then pushed the thoughts away. It had all taken place thirty years ago. The chances were no one from the Brass Circle would come after Pet and her sister now. Still, it might not be a bad idea to get what information he could on the group. He’d have to ask around, Santo decided. Just to be safe.
“Sir?”
Santo pulled himself from his thoughts and glanced up at their waiter with surprise. He’d actually forgotten where they were and that they weren’t alone.
“The restaurant closes at ten o’clock and it’s nearly that now. I fear if you wish to eat the food the chef has prepared for you, you’ll have to get started,” the man said apologetically.
Santo caught the grimace that flickered across Pet’s face, and knew she probably didn’t feel like eating after the heavy conversation they’d just had. Come to that, he didn’t either. But he knew he’d be hungry later, so said, “Wrap it up to go.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And throw in several of those desserts we saw on the way in,” he added as the man started away.
“Of course, sir.”
“I’m sorry.”
Pet’s soft voice made Santo glance around with surprise. “What for?”
“For ruining our dinner date with all of this. I know this must have cost a lot of money, and—”
“Pet,” he interrupted in a gentle rumble. “Never worry about the money I spend on you. I have accumulated a good deal of it in my lifetime.”
“Really?” She seemed surprised.
Santo wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not by that surprise, but simply said, “As you have pointed out, I am nearly three thousand years old, and I have worked nearly all that time.”
“Yeah, well, I work too, but most of my money goes into that apartment I own. There isn’t a lot left over to sock away and build a fortune.”
“You own the apartment?” he asked with surprise.
“Yes. Most of the apartments are rentals, but the ones on my floor were sold to help finance the building. I saw it, I loved it, I bought it.” Pet sipped the last of her drink. “Renting seems kind of . . . Well, you are basically throwing your money out the window. You pay your rent and that money is gone, never to be seen again. But when you buy a house or apartment, even if you are paying on a mortgage monthly . . .” she shrugged again “. . . you’ll get that money back if you sell the house later. Unless, of course, the bottom falls out of the housing market again or something.”
Santo nodded but then asked, “How long is the average mortgage?”
“Twenty to thirty years, though, I think you can get shorter ones.”
“And that is the largest portion of everybody’s monthly expenses, sì?”
“Sì, I mean yes. Most budgeting guidelines suggest housing should be thirty-five percent of your monthly expense,” Pet admitted. “Although, for me it’s more like fifty percent. But they also allocate five to fifteen percent for debts, and since my mortgage is my only debt . . .” She let the sentence trail off.
“So, once I acquired a house, my expenses dropped greatly,” Santo pointed out, but thought to himself that Parker definitely got his habit of spewing out facts and figures from his aunt Pet.
She nodded with understanding and then murmured, “Let’s see, you’re two thousand nine hundred and eighty-four years old. Divide that by thirty years per mortgage . . .” She paused, her eyes widening incredulously. “That’s like the equivalent of a hundred houses—99.467 to be exact.”
Santo nodded solemnly and then said, “I have one home . . . and you must consider interest on the money from all those houses I have not bought over the years.”
“Good Lord, you’re rich as Croesus,” Pet exclaimed, looking more dismayed than pleased by the news.
“Croesus may have been wealthy, but he was very ostentatious with it,” he assured her and her eyes immediately narrowed.
“You did not know Croesus! He was . . . ah hell, he was around in five hundred and something b.c. You could have known him,” she realized, and then asked with curiosity. “Who else did you know?”
Santo actually laughed with disbelief at the question. “I have been alive a long time, woman. I have known many people.”
“Yes, but—” Pet paused to scowl and said, “You did not just call me woman.”
A smile tugged at his lips as he took in her outrage and teased, “You would prefer, mio amante?”
“What’s that?” she asked suspiciously.
Santo opened his mouth, but then paused and simply stared at her for a minute. She was so lovely. Her eyebrows were arched over her large dark eyes, her mouth was pursed into a deep red pout, and her long hair fell around her naked shoulders in black waves that stopped just above the figure-fitting red dress she wore.
“It means,” he began, but his gaze dropped to the deep V cut into the dress between her breasts, and his voice lowered with it into a hungry growl as he finished, “my lover.”
Silence followed his announcement and lasted so long he finally forced his gaze up to her face. He saw at once that she was as affected by the simple word as him. The sexual desire he was suddenly feeling was reflected in her eyes and her lips had parted slightly as if inviting his kiss.
“Here you are,” the waiter said cheerfully as he returned. “We put it all in bags to make it easier to—oh, th-thank you.”
The man blinked in surprise as he found the bags gone from his hands and a wad of money in their place. Santo had stood, retrieved his wallet, pulled out the money, snatched the bags, and placed the money in the waiter’s hands at immortal speed, leaving the man somewhat dazed.
Realizing what he’d done, Santo forced himself to slow down as he moved around the table to urge Pet from her seat. He managed to maintain that calm, measured pace as he escorted her from the restaurant and out into the night. He even managed to walk her across the now nearly empty parking lot to where he’d parked in the back corner. It was at the SUV that he lost it. Santo had opened the passenger door for her and then stepped back, but not far enough. When Pet’s body brushed against him as she went to slide past him, he drew in a hiss of air, closed his eyes, and suddenly raised his arm to wrap it around her just below her breasts.
If she’d protested or even laughed when he then pulled her back against him, Santo might have been able to stop there, but she didn’t. Not his beautiful, passionate Pet. Instead, she melted into him with a sigh, her head turning to the side against his chest, and her hands sliding back to clasp his behind and pull him tighter against her so that his growing hardness was cuddled against the top of her behind.
Gro
aning, Santo lowered his head and kissed the top of her head, his own hands moving up to cover her breasts through the soft silk of her gown. Pet moaned in reaction and then gasped and arched her back, thrusting her bottom against his erection, when he squeezed and kneaded the small mounds he’d claimed.
Santo groaned and thrust back, then turned Pet and pressed her back up against the SUV as he bent to kiss her. She responded hungrily, opening for him at once when he slid his tongue out, and sucking at it eagerly before allowing her own tongue to duel with his. He was holding her by the shoulders, his body slightly bent, but he wanted to feel her body against his, so shifted his hands to her waist and lifted her, then held her there against the SUV with his lower body so that his hands could find her breasts again.
Pet gasped into his mouth as he tugged the top of her off-the-shoulder dress down to free her breasts to the cool night air, then she sucked violently at his tongue, her hands clutching at his shoulders as his hands covered the flesh he’d revealed. Santo felt her excitement and pleasure double his own as he caressed and kneaded her bared breasts, then pinched her nipples.
He had broken their kiss and started to bend his head to taste one of those hardening nipples when he heard a door close and the sound of voices. Stiffening, he lifted his head to see that a group of people had come out of the restaurant and was separating into couples as they moved to three of the remaining cars.
Reminded of where they were, Santo quickly lifted Pet’s gown back into place, then leaned his forehead against hers.
“Home,” she demanded in a whisper, running her hand down his back. “I need you.”
“Home,” Santo growled, moving at once. Clasping her waist, he stepped back and set her down, then ushered her into the passenger seat. He stopped to pick up the bags of food he’d dropped, and quickly placed them in the back seat, then headed around to get behind the wheel. His only thought was to get her back to her apartment, rip that beautiful gown from her body, and plunge himself inside her.
Fifteen
“Do not forget you take over watching the Purdy house at midnight.”
“Sì, sì,” Santo said impatiently in response to Julius’s reminder as he tried to urge the man and his wife, Marguerite, out of the apartment. He was very aware of what time he had to start. He also knew that it was a quarter to eleven, which meant he only had an hour before his phone alarm would go off, telling him it was time to leave. He’d have more time had Marguerite and Julius left as expected when he and Pet returned. Instead, the couple had suddenly got chatty, asking about the restaurant and their meals, etc. Santo had answered with lies rather than force Pet to relive her memories yet again. They’d then discussed this and that and basically nothing for half an hour before finally making noises about leaving. Santo had immediately stood to see them out, leaving Pet alone in the living room.
“We had to stay,” Marguerite said suddenly, interrupting his annoyed thoughts as she stepped into the hall. “You were a little wound up when you got back, your thoughts screaming your plans to rip that beautiful gown off Pet. It’s too gorgeous for that. She never would have forgiven you.”
Santo blinked at the words and then just stared at Marguerite as she smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“Life mate passion is all a bit overwhelming at first. Remember how strong you are and be careful with her,” she warned in a gentle whisper before pulling back and allowing Julius to take her arm to walk her away.
Startled by the warning, Santo simply stared after the pair as they made their way down the hall. It wasn’t until they disappeared into the elevator that he finally closed the door and made his way back to the living room.
He spotted Pet the minute he turned the corner out of the entry. She’d left the chair she’d been sitting in and now stood with her back to the room, framed in the large floor-to-ceiling window as she peered out at the dark night and city lights beyond. Her red gown was a bright beacon against that background, and his gaze slid hungrily over her as he approached.
Feeling himself immediately harden and his hands clench with the urge to rip the gown off so he could run his hands over the pale flesh it hid, he forced himself to stop and take a couple of deep breaths. Good Lord, he was like a bull ready to charge the matador’s red cape, he realized, and shook his head. He wanted to go slow here. Hard for life mates, but not impossible. He hoped.
Pet heard the soft rustle of his suit as Santo approached her, but continued to look out the window at the city below. Her eyes closed, though, when his big hands settled on her shoulders, and his thumbs began to rub back and forth over her naked skin.
They stood like that for a minute, neither of them speaking, and then Santo brushed the hair away from her neck and bent his head to kiss the sensitive skin there.
Breathing out a sigh, Pet tilted her head to the side, giving him better access as his mouth moved along her throat. The small caress sent shivers through her body and had her nipples tightening with anticipation. She was sufficiently distracted that it wasn’t until her gown began to slide down her body that she realized he’d undone the zipper. Santo shifted his hands to her waist then and lifted her out of the dress as it pooled around her feet. He then stepped in front of the overstuffed chair she’d been sitting in earlier before setting her down.
When his hands left her, Pet sensed that he’d stepped back to look at what he’d revealed. She could feel his eyes trailing over her body. The gown hadn’t allowed for a bra, and it had been too warm for stockings. She was standing there in nothing but red panties and the red high heels she’d worn with the dress, but waited patiently, allowing her anticipation to build.
“Turn for me.” The words were a low rumble that vibrated through her body.
Pet turned slowly to face him, her anticipation growing when she saw that his eyes had gone silver. She stood still and proud as those eyes burned hungrily over her body, but her own eyes were moving over him too, taking in his large shoulders in the tailored suit, and his flat stomach, before dropping to the growing bulge pressing against the front of the dark dress pants.
“Sei bellissima,” Santo murmured finally, and then reached out to brush his knuckles over one already erect nipple.
Pet thought that meant she was pretty or beautiful, but didn’t bother to ask as he let his hand drop away and stepped closer to lower his head and kiss her. This was a sweet, teasing kiss, his lips feathering over hers and then nipping lightly.
She reached for him, wanting to slip her arms around his neck, pull him close, and deepen the kiss, but he caught her hands to stop her. Holding them captive, he continued to tease, lick, and nip at her lips until she moaned in frustration. Only then did Santo slide his tongue out to thrust it between her parted lips. It slid in for a brief sortie that had her responding eagerly, but then it withdrew again.
Pet opened her eyes in time to watch him sit down in the chair. Using his hold on her hands, he tugged her forward to stand between his legs, and then he suddenly leaned forward to press a kiss to her lower belly. Pet’s stomach muscles jumped in response and she bit her lip as Santo’s tongue slid out to run along the strip of skin above the line of her panties. But then he leaned back a little, grasped each side of the delicate cloth, and drew the red lace panties down her legs.
Pet stepped out of them when he urged her to, her now shaky legs wobbling a little on the heels, and then she watched him toss the scrap of cloth on her dress. Her head whipped back around, though, when one of his hands began to skim up the inside of her leg. Lifting his head to watch her face, he let his fingers drift up along her thigh until he could press the heel of his palm against her. Pet closed her eyes on a moan as he applied pressure, her hips instinctively pushing forward into the caress. And then she gasped and grabbed for his shoulders as he slid one finger up through her folds to find the moist heat already waiting for him.
“I want you,” Santo growled as his finger moved against her flesh, running lightly over and then around the cen
ter of her excitement.
“Yes,” Pet groaned, and reached down to cover his hand, urging him to move it so she could straddle him on the chair. But he wouldn’t allow that and simply continued to caress her, his eyes hooded with desire as he watched her face.
“Santo,” she protested on a gasp when his other hand glided to her breast and began to pluck and toy with her nipple, adding to the pleasure swelling within her. “Please.”
“Not yet,” he growled, and then claimed her other nipple with his mouth.
Panting, Pet shook her head but then cried out and threw her head back, her body stilling when he slid one large finger inside of her, slowly stretching and filling her.
“Santo . . . please,” she cried to the ceiling, and then his hand left her breast, tangled in the hair at the back of her head and urged her face down as he let her nipple slip from his lips so that he could kiss her. There was no teasing this time. His tongue thrust into her in rhythm with his finger as it withdrew and plunged back in.
Pet kissed him back almost desperately, her fingers clutching at the shoulders of his suit, her legs trembling, hips thrusting as she rode his hand toward the release she knew waited. But just when Pet was sure she was about to find that release, his hand was suddenly gone from between her legs and his mouth left hers to press soothing kisses to her cheeks and then her neck.
Pet started to open her eyes on a groan of disappointment but ended up gasping instead when he suddenly sat back and caught her at the waist to tug her forward. She ended up straddling his lap on the chair, her legs bent and caught between his legs and the chair on either side. She could feel his erection beneath her, hard, hot, and exposed, and realized he’d unzipped his slacks and drawn himself out at some point.