With her free hand she gently moves my heavy hair away from the right side of my neck. Without another word, she lowers her face down, away from my view. I catch the fleeting scent of bergamot and vanilla—so lovely.
“Ah!” I can’t suppress my strained cry at the trauma of her razor-sharp fangs piercing my sensitive skin, a pain akin to being stabbed by twin daggers.
In a blur of motion, so fast my eyes can’t track it, Severin hovers above us, his hand clamped firmly across my parted lips. I struggle to keep from moaning against his cool hand as the flaming pain swiftly recedes, changing to mind-bending pleasure. Determined for the extraordinary bliss to never, ever cease, I do my best not to move my head, to stay quiet and languish in the most enjoyable sensations I’ve ever experienced.
Soon my thoughts turn foggy as if I’m swimming headlong through a pool of water that’s pulling me down below its murky surface, like a sinking ship dropping to icy black depths.
I have a vague sense that she’s released me. The pressure is gone, replaced by extreme dizziness. Severin moves away and my chin is lifted high, my lips pried apart. Only a second passes before warm wetness with the bitter taste of iron invades my mouth. I’m too weak to gag as my throat contracts involuntarily, struggling to keep up with the flow of rich blood that is entering me. All disgust is forgotten as a blast of hot, potent energy begins to ignite like a fire in my throat. The heat soon becomes uncomfortable, almost to the point of burning. Too hot! I’m about to plead with her to stop when it happens … I sense the weight and pressure of my body lying against the bed. Feeling! It’s back! Yes, yes! My reeling brain explodes with hope as the current of power rips through my body.
My hands, once again mobile, fly up to lock her wrist against my eager mouth. My vision is now exceptionally heightened. Perhaps this is what a hawk sees …. I watch her serious face as she nods for me to continue.
As if I could ever stop drinking from this life source ….
My recently useless legs begin twisting back and forth as I hold her tightly to me. I want to laugh in sheer joy. They’ve done it.
She turns to Severin. “This one is so very much like you, Severin—so very strong and willful. I’m impressed.”
“We need to finish this. Someone may come to check on her soon. My father has been incredibly particular about her care.”
With her free hand, Katerina brushes my hair away from my forehead, and the brief sensation feels glorious. “Let go of me now, Cosette. We are leaving and taking you with us.”
As much as I want to drink more of the healing elixir, I’m set on showing her my gratitude. With reluctance I unlatch my hands and pull my mouth away. She stares down and nods once in approval. I’m about to swing my legs off the side of the high bed when Severin leans in, scooping me up into his arms.
“Bind your hands around my neck.”
I obey and his lips twist into a small grin as he says, “Glad you made it, Cosette. Welcome to your new family, your new reality. I think you’ve finally found the heart-stopping excitement you’ve always chased after.”
I gaze up at him and whisper in awe, “Thank you a million times over, Uncle.”
“You’re very welcome, and let’s keep it to Severin from now on. Wouldn’t want anyone to take me as ‘old.’ ”
Instead of laughing, Katerina is all business, eyes darting back and forth between the door and the windows.
“Should I bother asking where we’re headed?”
Katerina answers hastily, “To our residence in Spain, Cosette.”
“Spain? That will be a long journey indeed.”
They exchange brief, amused looks as Severin cocks his handsome head and says, “Hardly. Now hold on tight and don’t you dare let go.”
I know now that things will be forever altered. I’m about to take a leap into the unknown and I can’t wait for my second chance. Hopefully this new, unrestricted existence will allow me to be who I really am—an independent free spirit, one who has known all along that she’s been living in the wrong time in history.
Chapter Six
2:54 a.m.—Present Day
Tatnall Street, 3 Blocks West of Forsythe Park; Savannah
Jesus, fuck, there’s no better sight on this green earth than her perfect leather-clad ass on the back of that bad-ass ride. Hold your shit together, Colton, you brought her here for answers, not to drool over her like a horny fucking bull.
I drag in a calming breath and dismount, calling out to her, “Nobody’ll mess with it in front of my place, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Her hair spills down as she removes her helmet and I try unsuccessfully to wipe away the powerful vision of it tethered tightly to my fist as I fuck her ruthlessly.
I fail to hide a groan of raw male appreciation as she purrs out, “If you think I’m the least bit concerned about where I park my Ducati, then you have a lot to learn.”
I close in on her. Surprisingly she holds her ground, all cool, unaffected grace. Staring down, I respond to her taunt in a low whisper, “Oh, I look forward to learning more, wildcat, a lot more. In fact, I was planning on it, whether you extended the invite to me or not.”
Her lush lips tip up at the corners. “Such confidence. One drink, remember, cowboy? Nothing more, nothing less. And I choose what questions I’d like to answer tonight.”
She sets my blood on fire with that feisty attitude of hers. I point a finger in the direction of my weather-beaten Victorian, “C’mon then, sweetheart. You must be thirsty.”
Like silk, the words fall ever so slowly from her lips. “Oh, you haven’t a clue.”
“Well, we’ll fix that. Can’t promise you nothin’ fancy—no girlie drinks or that bullshit—but I’ll do my best to find you somethin’ you’ll like.”
Her hips sway in a perfect sashay in front of me as I stare in appreciation at her assets. Fuck, those skintight pants are doing things to my dick that my head can’t keep up with. Slow and easy, Brennan.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re very capable of accommodating me, cowboy.”
That’s it.
I lean in mid-stride, grasp her elbow and spin her swiftly back and around to face me. A look of amusement flares in her unusual pale eyes as I tell her quietly, “You’d best not go teasin’ a man like me, sugar. Consequences will follow if you do.”
Breathy, wild excitement threads her voice as she plants a small palm in the center of my chest and lands me with, “Whatever you have to offer, cowboy, you’d better believe that not only can I handle it, but I would come back for numerous rounds. You see, I am quite voracious.”
Christ, this woman was built for me.
“Fuuuukkk. You’re crazy, woman, you know that?”
“I’ve been called that and a lot worse in my lifetime. Now, if we’re past the witty foreplay, how about that drink?”
“Babydoll, haven’t even begun with the foreplay, but yeah, get your little ass inside.”
“Are you always this much of a totally uncouth savage around women, Mr. Brennan?”
“Not sure what the word before savage means, but it ain’t often I chat one-on-one with women, especially not sober women anything like you, so take it for what it is.”
“And what is it?”
“Male fucking interest. Pure and simple.”
Not waiting for an answer, I reach around her to unlock the deadbolt. My knuckles scrape the wood as the key twists, and peeling blue paint flakes off to flutter down onto the rotting, tilted porch.
I lead her inside and flip on the light, half expecting her to begin curiously look around; instead, she pivots and faces me.
Her expression is calm and unreadable as she asks, “Am I really here because you need answers about what you saw that first night, or for some other reason?”
Moments pass before I reply with the truth, “Gotta be honest, more for me gettin’ to know more about you rather than the shit that went down by River Street. You’ve been on my mind, baby, plain and simple
. That work for you?”
Like she’s sharing a secret, she says in a sly whisper, “I’ll let you know when it doesn’t anymore.”
“Spirited. Like that ’bout you.”
“They all do, cowboy.”
Pissed, I lean in and practically grind out, “Dammit girl, now don’t go comparin’ me to no other men from your past, ’cause I promise you that I’m not like anyone you’ve ever crossed paths with.”
She blinks twice, as if my blunt honesty somehow startled her. Then she replies carefully, “No, no, you’re definitely not.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, the sexual tension simmering between us, threatening to boil over. Don’t scare her. She’s in your house. Ease any fear she might have so she won’t bolt. Lighten things up ASAP.
“Shit, now where’s my manners? Let’s see what I have around here to offer you. Ain’t often I have guests.”
I somehow manage to pry my eyes off hers and turn to swing the fridge door open, nearly cringing at what I see there. The only items inside are three lone Sam Adams longnecks, an unopened gallon of milk, and a nearly empty carton of OJ. Shit. Fucking shit. Motherfucker.
I snag a beer to offer to her when she peers around my back. “I’m really not that interested in a drink. How about a tour instead? So, what would you call all this?” She waves her right hand around at the complete havoc of exposed plaster, beams, sheetrock, power tools, ladders, and general wreckage. “Home Depot Work in Progress Chic?”
My lips press together as I fight a smile. “Funny one, babydoll. I’d like to think of it as one man’s crazed attempt to bring back a slice of history. Estimate she should be straight and restored to her long-lost glory in about two years. Don’t sleep much, so this beauty gives me somethin’ to occupy my time with when I’m not looking after the bar. We tend to keep each other company. If you’re that interested in my fixer-upper, then I’m obliged to give you the full tour. Follow me.”
I use the opener on my key ring to pop the top off the beer and extend my arm in an exaggerated, sweeping motion. “After you, wildcat. I’d watch where you step, though. Nails and shit scattered about, at least down on this first level.”
She makes her way into the living room, slowly winding around stacks of lumber and gallons of paint. Still inspecting, she asks curiously, “Are you renovating this all on your own?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you study architecture or historical restoration?”
I choke out a laugh into my fist, nearly splashing my beer all over myself.
She spins around, her eyes questioning.
“Shit no, wildcat. Never went past high school. But that don’t mean a man can’t pick up a few books at the library. There’s a world of free education out there if you go lookin’. Learn as you go, that’s my motto. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“So you have a creative streak in you then, cowboy?”
“Wouldn’t go that far. Just like makin’ things right, that’s all. Saw this house, and it was endless levels of fucked up. They were practically givin’ it away due to the termite damage alone. I could see past the chaos, knew it was somethin’ special once, long ago. Needed a place to live after I did my ten years in the army and wanted to settle downtown in the historic district, to be close to the action. Figured we’d make a good match. So far, I was right.”
“It suits you.”
I grin. “Oh yeah, how’s that? Weathered and gritty?”
She takes a step closer and lowers her voice, the streaks of moonlight complementing her flawless skin. “Hardly. You’re an excellent match because you’re both damaged and quite beautiful.”
My chest tightens. Her words … her simple damn words are a direct hit. This woman, this strange, confusing woman, with one look can somehow manage to see me, the real me. The man whose need for self preservation has always driven him to walk the solo route through life.
I shrug, doing my best to act casual.
“Yeah, well, might want to rethink that theory, sugar. Just a simple guy who likes to fix shit—’bout as straightforward as it gets. C’mon, I’ll show you what I’ve actually finished so far. It’s not all ruin and grime inside.”
I prefer talking about factual shit versus emotions of any kind—something I know little about and a topic that makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Following behind her, I wonder how the fuck she can be so graceful in those five inch stiletto boots, but then again, everything about her is like that, so why should I be surprised?
As she reaches the top step, I tell her, “Turn right and head to the last door, the one at the end of the hallway.”
She’ll be the first person, with the exception of Alex, to see the master bedroom. I’m curious what she’ll think of the overhaul. A lot of fuckin’ sweat and endless hours went into the restoration, but all well worth it, in my opinion.
She’s already far into the oversized room when I flick on the light switch and lean a shoulder against the ten-foot-high doorframe. She still has her back to me, but I see how she’s taking it all in, inspecting everything from the relief work surrounding the fireplace mantel to the original moldings that decorate the walls. Her eyes linger on the four-foot-across carved, circular ceiling medallion that surrounds the original though refurbished crystal chandelier.
Very slowly she turns around and whispers in shock, “You fixed all of this?”
I break her stare, suddenly embarrassed. Fiddling with the label on my beer I ask, “Yeah. You like it?”
“It’s breathtaking. It reminds me of a house I knew long ago. A once magnificent house. What you’ve done here is remarkable, Colton. Honestly. I’m quite impressed.”
An intense sadness fills her eyes as she walks over to run her fingers along the curves of the ironwork bed.
I clear my throat and say, “Yeah, well, the bed frame came with the place—thought it was cool. Sanded it down to get the rust off and then painted it black. The sofa was here as well. Liked the curved lines, had it restuffed at a fabric place and took the dude’s suggestion to cover it in brown velvet. Feels good to sleep on. It’s where I crash most nights, actually. Come over here and sit down with me.”
I sink down into the sofa and watch her walk toward me. Christ, even her walk is seductive as hell. Mental note: keep at least a three-foot distance.
She sits close and shifts to face me, our knees nearly touching.
Fuck.
Still staring in wonder she says, “I’m really impressed by what you’ve done. I can only imagine what it looked like before this.”
“I’m a determined man, sweetheart. Figured I didn’t stand a chance unless I went room by room, so that’s my plan. When I got the place, everything had basically been stripped down to the beams. Guess the last owners gave up or ran out of cash trying to tackle this house. Slow and measured seems to work for me, until it’s all done right.”
She smiles, her white teeth gleaming from full, inviting lips. Fuck, I want those lips like a man in hell wants two blocks of ice, one to sit on and one to lick.
Time to switch gears. Rapidly. Time for answers.
“You wanna explain to me why a wolf that huge and aggressive wanted to rip us to shreds?”
“It never came close to harming us.”
“Bullshit, darlin’. I saw it. Thing matched my weight, maybe more. I want you to explain to me what the fuck it wanted with you and how in the world you were able to stop it. Seein’ as my brain can’t come up with one single logical solution.”
She says solemnly, “I believe it was a Dire Wolf.”
I shake my head in annoyance. “To hell it was, sweetheart. I know wolves, used to shoot ’em for tryin’ to get at our livestock back in Montana. That thing was different—a mutation or somethin’ ’cause of its size alone. Besides, Dire Wolves have been extinct for thousands of years.”
“Ten thousand years, precisely.”
“Fine, smart ass, ten thousand years. That doesn’t
explain why an animal that was easily forty percent larger than any wolf I’ve ever crossed paths with was prowling around in the fuckin’ middle of the night in a coastal southern city or how you, a woman who can’t weigh more than a buck twenty drippin’ wet was able to stop it without a weapon of any kind. You should’ve been mauled to death, yet here you sit, without a darn scratch, having a conversation with me about it. Now start talkin’, ’cause my patience is wearin’ thin.”
In an eerily calm voice, she responds, “And just how are you entitled to believe that you’re owed an explanation from me?”
I lean in close, making sure that she can feel my breath against her face. “ ’Cause, darlin’, I was there, was part of it, and from this moment forward I’m choosin’ to make your safety my business. You’re into some heavy shit, baby, I get that. I want the details so I can protect you.”
She looks briefly shocked before ringing laughter erupts from her throat. “Protect me? You … you want to protect me? Cowboy, if nothing else, you’re definitely entertaining.”
The back of my neck burns hot in anger. In a flash I close in on her, caging her between my arms and the high back of the sofa.
My voice is a near growl. “I wasn’t tryin’ to be funny, Cosette. Already warned you not to tease. Now you’re gonna tell me what I want to know. Right fuckin’ now.”
Her eyes are watchful but unemotional—a surprising reaction for a woman who is basically immobilized by a man twice her size.
In the faintest whisper she asks, “Are you threatening me, Colton?”
“Baby, I’d never threaten you. Why’d you even ask that?”
“Because you are being excessively demanding. And if you push me too far we’re going to have an issue with each other. An issue resulting in your immobilization.”
I’m not giving an inch on this. “You’ve got the demanding part right; it’s just how I’m wired. You’re still stittin’ here, meaning you can’t be too frightened of me. Now start talkin’.”
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