“Ah,” he said, nodding sagely. “You believe Purcell is the one who stole the chest instead of Nellito, and that he has the scars on him from the protection. And that’s why he wears that leather cuff.”
She nodded, her chin bumping the top of the screen. Time to come clean and tell him all. “Yes. I know my father was innocent, that someone else framed him, so I’ve been trying to put the pieces together for years. Alexander Purcell was in London at the same time the chest was stolen, and he’s the only inner circle member of the Tutela who was there at that time. It had to be a mortal who took the chest, and who other than a member of the Tutela? The fact that he wears the leather gauntlet all the time confirms my suspicions. So you see, I don’t really have to go all the way and seduce him. Which is a good thing,” she said, ducking down behind the barrier to fasten her stockings to the garters, “because I’ve never done it before.”
Savina heard a strange gurgling sound, and when she straightened up, she saw that Max had risen from his chair and was standing right next to the screen.
“Are you utterly mad?” he roared—in tone, not precisely in volume. His voice was low enough, but at the same time, tight and furious and incredulous. “You’ve never—what in the bloody hell are you thinking? Are you—”
“I’m thinking,” she said firmly, “that this is probably the only way I can prove my father’s innocence, because the minute you or any other Venator has the opportunity, you’re going to stake Purcell and there will go my chance.”
And whoa. He was standing very close to her all of a sudden. So close, she could see a tiny dimple-like movement near his jaw and even discern the black flecks in his dark brown irises. The top of his white shirt was open, revealing a long, deep vee of sun-browned throat. Savina swallowed hard. If the screen wasn’t between them, they would be closer than partners in a Vienna waltz. Her pulse jolted and suddenly her mouth was very dry. She had to drag her attention from his mouth and back to the matter at hand.
“I need my corset laces tightened,” she said. “I’ll…call a maid.”
“I’ll do it,” he replied. His voice was rough and low.
Maybe not the best option, now that she was fully aware of Max Denton—the man, not so much the lethal vampire slayer. Savina realized her palms had gone a little damp and her chest and face felt unusually warm.
“Are you sur—”
“Come here, Savina.”
The low, gentle demand made something flip sharply deep in her belly, and all at once, she wasn’t certain at all about anything except…she was really attracted to Max Denton.
Embarrassingly so. So attracted, so acutely aware of him she was certain it was emblazoned across her face in the heat that surely turned her cheeks pink, and in the rapid pounding of her pulse.
Nevertheless, she obeyed, coming out from behind the shield of the dressing screen all the while doing her best to seem nonchalant and unaffected. She had no idea whether she succeeded, for the moment his fingers brushed the back of her fabric-bound spine, that rush of awareness became almost unbearable.
Savina realized she was holding her breath, waiting for him to draw the laces tighter along her torso…and then a heartbeat later, realized he hadn’t moved at all. Time seemed to still as his hands shifted from the center of her back upward to settle onto her bare shoulders. She quivered a little when the rough pads of his fingers brushed the soft, sensitive skin there, landing on either side of the narrow straps of her undergarment. She curled her trembling fingers into her palms.
“Max, are you certain you know what you’re doing?” she managed to say teasingly, in a great triumph of self-possession. “Would you like me to call for help?”
His fingers slid lightly down her arms, raising little prickles all over her skin. “The better question is, are you certain you know what you’re doing?”
With a firm grip, he turned her around to face him. He was a lot taller than she was; she hadn’t had occasion to realize that her head would fit just beneath his chin—and he smelled like something fresh and male, and, well, a little dusty too. His dark, curly hair tumbled in an unruly mop around his ears, brushing his neck. And at this close proximity, she could see more than a few gray hairs among the waves. Though his facial hair had grown into an excellent disguise, it was trimmed neatly around his mouth, easily revealing the shape of his lips.
“What…what do you mean?” she asked, then realized she was talking like one of those silly girls in the silent films or dime novels.
“Perhaps,” he said, sliding one hand around the back of her head, “it’s not a good idea for an inexperienced woman to make a vampire her first attempt at seduction.” He brushed a finger over her lower lip, his attention fixed there. “Will you know what to do when he does…this?”
Savina barely had time to drag in a breath before his lips covered hers. She stifled a moan at the rush of pleasure that swamped her, taking her by surprise with its force and heat. This kiss was hardly anything like the previous one, when he’d been half asleep.
This one was hard and deep and thorough. His tongue stroked her, slick and slow as she opened her mouth to taste him, to take him in. Their mouths molded together, slipping and sliding as he delved deeply, coaxing and leading, then tangling with her, turning to nibble on her top lip. The soft prickles of his mustache tickled gently.
Max shivered a little, his arms pulling her close as she rested her hands on the tops of his broad, powerful shoulders, still kissing him.
He slid his lips away, the soft bristles of his beard dragging over her cheek as he nipped lightly at her jaw. “And what if he does…this?” he said, very low, very close to her ear…then lowered to nibble on the sensitive area beneath her earlobe. His breath was warm and delicate against her skin. “Will you know what to do then, Savina?”
Her eyes were closed, and she shivered at the explosion of sensation from warm lips and tongue, pleasure daggering down into her belly and between her legs. He kissed and licked, gently sucking at the sweet spot along the side of her throat, mimicking the action of a vampire…but so gently and seductively she was well aware he was a man.
When Max slid one hand down along her spine to pull her close to him, she felt his arousal, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her belly. Savina shivered with her own desire, recognizing in the back of her lust-fogged mind that this time he knew damn well whom he was kissing.
She closed her eyes, feeling the strength and power of his long, hard body pressed along hers…then something happened with his fingers, and all at once, her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders, and there was something behind her…
The bed. She jolted backward, and Max lifted her up onto the high mattress.
“And this?” he murmured, looking down at her with hot, dark eyes that made her go breathless. His hands smoothed firmly down over the front of her corset-bound torso. “What will you do then, Savina?”
“I’ll do this,” she replied as she clutched the front of his shirt and dragged him down to her. He joined her readily, his weight dipping the bed as he levered himself above her. A knee parted her thighs, sliding up and against her. She arched into it a little, delighted by the hot, delicious sensation throbbing between her legs, and the tantalizing sensation when he pressed gently…but she wanted more.
“And this,” she whispered. One of his buttons had come loose, and she finally touched his skin: warm, smooth, solid. His heartbeat pounded beneath her fingers, and she curved her hands up and around his neck, beneath the crisp cotton of his shirt, pulling him down to kiss him once more. She wanted to taste him there too, at the juncture of throat and shoulder, but the tight enclosure of the corset made it difficult to bend upward—and even harder to catch her breath.
“And…this,” she said, pulling her mouth away from his. With a neat flip of her fingers, she had the top three corset hooks undone in a trice. Savina sighed with pleasure as her breasts were freed from their encasement, released beneath her soft, fine
chemise. Her erect nipples were clearly outlined by the thin fabric, generous points at the tops of dome-like mounds. Max made a sound deep from deep in his chest, and she looked up.
He’d paused above her, propped on one palm as his gaze met hers. The expression there was dark and hot, and yet reserved. “Savina,” he said. The rough, unsteady sound of her name was even more arousing, for she could hear the desire in his voice.
She was going to leave this to go kiss Alexander Purcell? A vampire? What sort of fool was she?
“What next, Max?” she murmured, shifting her hips a little more, pressing upward into the pressure from his knee as her eyes slid closed. He groaned in the back of his throat, and she shifted again, a little more saucily. “What would he do next?”
He spewed out a warm breath and brushed away some of the hair from her face. Then his large hand trailed down to cover one of her breasts, settling over the thin fabric barrier of her chemise. “This.”
He pulled the loose neckline down so one nipple popped free. When his dark head bent so he could kiss the jutting red tip, Savina gave a little moan at the feathery sensation, light and warm—and then her eyes bolted open as he closed his lips around her, hot and wet and slick, sucking and tasting and drawing her deep into the heat of his mouth. All the while, his tongue made sleek, sensuous circles around the tight, wrinkled point.
She couldn’t hold back a soft cry at the intense pleasure, and she bit her lip to keep from making more sounds…but it was impossible not to respond, not to arch into him, not to curl her fingers into his shoulders, not to grind a little harder against his leg as he teased and taunted and tasted her. She was full and slick and throbbing. Her blood pounded, her breath came in short little pants…and when Max shifted, his hand sliding down to replace the knee he’d slipped between her legs, Savina’s eyes flew open again.
When he touched her, all swollen and wet, a low, deep groan was wrung from his chest. The needy sound sent another stab of lust into her belly, and as he touched her, stroking and sliding and finding a delicious rhythm, she felt herself rising, gathering up into wave after wave of pleasure. She tightened, lost track of where she was, and suddenly there was the explosion…hot, sudden, long. It came over her in a rush, with heat and release undulating through her.
When she finally opened her eyes, she realized she’d been clutching his arms, panting, her mouth open and eyes rolling back into her head. Her toes curled, her body felt…amazing. Soft and sleek and sated.
“Oh,” she managed to sigh when she opened her eyes at last. “I think…” She licked her lips and gave a satisfied smile, arching a little, noticing how his attention followed her movement. “I don’t think I’d be complaining if he did it just like that.” Then, she slid her hand down, pulling the shirt from his waistband, baring his torso…moving lower. “And then, I’d begin to do…this.”
Something flickered in his dark eyes, tightened in his expression as Max hovered over her. He stilled. “To a vampire.”
“To you, Max,” she murmured, finding the opening of his trousers and yanking the buttons free.
His hips were warm and smooth, and as she slid the clothing down over muscular buttocks, he unfastened the rest of her corset hooks and spread the restrictive garment away from her torso.
Knock-knock-knock. They both looked toward the door as Max vaulted off the bed in a smooth, silent leap.
“Yes?” Savina called, and noticed the clock. Half-past eight? Already? Damn. Oh, damn. Her knees were still weak, and she quivered everywhere.
“Miss Ellison, I’m sorry to bother you, but Mr. Purcell sent me to inquire as to whether you still intended to join him for dinner.” The voice that came through the closed door was most likely that of one of the maids, though Savina didn’t recognize it.
“Oh, yes, of course.” Now it was her turn to fly off the bed, snatching up her corset and straightening the chemise to cover her breasts again. She turned to ask Max for help, but he wasn’t there. “I…um…I must have fallen asleep,” she called back.
“We thought that might have happened when you didn’t ring for assistance getting dressed. May I come in now to help you, miss? Mr. Purcell is waiting.”
Savina turned in a slow, confused circle, looking around the room…and then she saw the slight fluttering of the curtain. Bolting to the window—which was open wider than it had been earlier—she flung the draperies aside and looked down just in time to see a white-shirted figure slink off into the lowering shadows.
The sun had set, and neither of them had noticed.
“Miss?” There was another soft knock. “Shall I assist you?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Savina called, then saw Max’s shoes—when had he even taken them off?—near the bed, and she flung them out the window through which he’d just exited. “Please come in.”
Well, at least the story about her falling asleep would explain the mess of her hair.
CHAPTER 10
~ Adjustment ~
Under cover of shadow, Max paused. He was tucked behind an arborvitae in the corner where a small part of the house jutted out. His pulse was racing, and his body still pounded. His mind was addled, and he was a little out of breath. And more than a little confused.
But there was one thing he knew: no way in bloody hell was he going to let Savina seduce a damned vampire.
What the hell was she thinking?
Not that he didn’t believe she could do it—for Christ’s sake, she’d done just fine up there just now. He glanced up at the bedroom window, where a triangular sliver of light indicated his escape route.
I’ve never done it before.
Well, she certainly had done well enough at the dress rehearsal. His body still hummed. He frowned, his mouth painfully tight. Now she was preparing for the real thing. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes from the window.
Just then, two objects came hurtling out, landing on the ground not too far from him. Hell. He hadn’t even realized he’d left his shoes. He scooped them up, sending a mental thanks for her quick thinking. He would have been in a fix without them.
What the hell had come over him up there anyway? Max shoved on his shoes, then buttoned his shirt with clumsy fingers. He’d also lost those damned blue glasses somewhere along the line, because they were no longer in his trouser pocket.
Did it even matter anymore?
No. It didn’t.
He stepped out from behind the abrasive bush and brushed some of the dead prickles from his hair. It was time to take control of these mad, half-formed plans of hers and make some changes. He was the damned Venator. He knew what had to be done.
First, Max was going to retrieve a few useful objects from the depths of the motorcar. Then, he would search Purcell’s suite to see what he could find. It shouldn’t take long, and he knew the man would be otherwise occupied. Presumably both chambers would be empty at this time of night, but even that didn’t matter. Max could easily dispatch anyone who got in his way. He set his teeth in a grim smile. He couldn’t wait to encounter a vampire—or anyone—who tried to stop him.
After that, he was going to interrupt the picnic tete-a-tete and put an end to any seduction that might be taking place.
There was no need for Savina to put herself at such risk, even with an infant vampire.
The game was over.
After his errand in the garage, instead of going through the back stairs and making his way along the corridors to Purcell’s suite, Max climbed a tree. It felt good to put his muscles to use; too much traveling and not enough fighting since he and Savina had left Rome. One night in London with his crossbow hadn’t been nearly enough, and he was definitely looking forward to tomorrow’s arrival of Rastingard and her contingent.
His pulse spiked in anticipation. Most definitely, he couldn’t wait to face off with the bitch who’d helped perpetuate his wife’s slaughter.
The tree had a strong branch about twenty feet off the ground that extended toward the third-story French
doors belonging to Purcell’s suite. It was simply too easy for Max to launch himself from there to land soft-footed onto Purcell’s private balcony.
He crouched there for a moment, listening, waiting, sensing. The back of his neck was cold, which meant there was an undead in the vicinity. Possibly even on the other side of the French doors. They were slightly ajar, and he took his time scanning what he could see of the bedroom from his position. Inside, a lamp cast a soft yellow-orange glow, giving detail to a bureau, a desk, and the footboard of a massive bed.
A low, feminine laugh wafted through the night. Savina. His pulse jolted, then settled back into rhythm. She sounded as if she were enjoying herself.
Had she recovered from their own tete-a-tete so quickly? His damn knees were still a little weak, for God’s sake. Not to mention the unsatisfied heaviness that lingered.
Max looked out from behind the balcony railing, grateful for its height as well as the large potted plant that would hide him from anyone on the ground.
There they were, just below. The couple strolled along in a direct line toward a ridge of trees. He was carrying a large basket, and she held a lantern that bobbed with each step. Her free hand was inside the crook of Purcell’s elbow, and she was looking at her host, obviously amused by something he’d said. The silvery moonlight illuminated her upturned face, glinting off her glossy hair—which had been tamed into some sort of order at the nape of her neck.
Speaking of which…the back of Max’s neck burned and prickled as if dry ice had been placed there: eerie and painful. Not only Purcell was nearby, but at least one more vampire. Maybe two. Somewhere in the vicinity.
He cast a glance through the French doors. Yes. Someone was in there. In the dark. Were they waiting for him? Had he been recognized earlier? He smiled coldly, his eyes narrowing with pleasure.
Or did someone else have the same idea Max had…to investigate Purcell’s chambers while he was otherwise occupied?
He glanced back at Savina and her companion. They and their small lamp were just about to disappear into the cluster of trees. By his estimation, they were heading in the direction of a little woodland path that wound through a pleasant forest and ended at a picnic spot by a small pond.
Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 107