Holy shit. Her heart did a flip-flop in her chest.
With dark eyes and his collar turned up against the weather, he looked almost like a—
“Come on,” he said through the window, indicating for her to roll it down.
Had he come from the rig that passed her? Through the windshield, she could just make out red taillights in front of her that she hadn’t noticed before. Evidently, he had. She opened it just a crack.
“Jesus,” he said. “You practically ran me off the road.”
Given that he was the one driving what amounted to a street-legal Sherman tank, she highly doubted it, but then again, she hadn’t been able to see the center line, either. It was very possible that she had been driving in the middle of the road. “Sorry. I couldn’t see much.”
“Well, who do we have here?” Something flickered behind his eyes as he smiled and his expression softened somewhat. A few snowflakes dusted his dark hair. With a cruel set to his jaw and a soul patch under his lower lip, he was good-looking, devilishly so.
She chose not to answer him. He gave her the creeps. “Would you be able to give me a little push?” she asked. “If I can just get that tire back onto the road again, I think I’ll be fine.”
“Sorry. I’d like to help, but I’m afraid I’m not dressed for it. This snow is ruining my shoes as it is and I’m freezing my ass off standing here.” He glanced in her backseat. “Can I…give you a lift?”
Like hell was she going to get into a car with him. That night in the parking lot with Trace was the only time she’d gotten into the car with a stranger, and he’d turned out not to be a stranger after all. “No, I’m fine.”
“Let me guess. You’re heading to the Westfalen place.”
She scrutinized his face. He didn’t look familiar and yet— “Yes, I am. How did you know?”
“Call me clairvoyant.” He laughed, but she didn’t find it comforting. “We’re heading there, too.”
How convenient. “We?”
“Yes, my girlfriend and me. I’m Trace’s cousin and we’re here for the holidays.” His cousin? The cousin? She swallowed and clutched her coat tighter around the collar. Although she couldn’t remember anything about what she’d seen last Christmas, she definitely didn’t trust this guy.
“If you don’t believe me…” He pulled out his wallet and showed her his driver’s license. Sebastian Westfalen-Taft. Yes, he definitely was the cousin. “What do you say? Do you want a ride up to the house or do you want to walk? Your choice.”
She considered her options. A long, cold trek in the snow or a quick five-minute ride.
A woman’s voice called from Sebastian’s vehicle. “Come on, baby. I’m getting cold.”
Okay. He had his girlfriend with him. How dangerous could he be?
TRACE LED CHARLOTTE into his bedroom suite. “You’re staying with me now.”
A delicious thrill skittered along her nerve endings. “What are you talking about?”
“In my bed. My cousin isn’t stupid enough to try anything, but now that he’s here, under this roof, you’ll be safer with me.”
Guess she wouldn’t need to force herself on him after all. “I’m surprised you invited him here after what happened last year.”
“Believe me, I didn’t. But he’s family, so I can’t throw him out.”
She looked around the room, a mirror image of her own in terms of size and layout, and yet very different. Heavy midnight-blue tapestries, extending from the ornately carved moldings, covered all the walls. Although the room was spacious, it felt intimate because it absorbed the sound so well.
Her heart beat loudly in her head as she stared at the massive Louis XIV bed taking up a huge portion of one side. Its brocade panels were tied back, revealing luxurious pillows of various sizes. She had to imagine that when those panels were shut, it would feel very intimate inside, as well. The tender skin of her inner thighs heated at the thought of lying there with Trace.
She turned to find him staring at her, his eyes dark, his lips parted slightly, as if he were out of breath. God, she wanted him, and she wanted him bad.
Ever since that night at her house when he’d rocked her world, she had wanted more. And now that she knew the truth about him and that she had once loved him, things felt even more natural.
Shutting the door, she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him roughly. His mouth moved against hers and she slipped her tongue inside.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling against her lips. “My God, Char, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She pushed him to the bed, where he fell back onto the mattress, pulling her with him.
“You are my responsibility now,” he said. “And I’m not one to take responsibilities lightly.”
“I’m glad. Neither am I. Now, take off your clothes.”
He laughed. “God, are you always this bossy?”
“I can be.”
When they’d pulled up in Sebastian’s SUV, Trace had stormed out of the house and swept her from the vehicle. It had surprised her at first, but then she saw the relief in his face. The way he’d glared at his cousin made him look like he could rip his head off. She found his intense concern for her incredibly attractive.
It took only a moment for their clothes to be piled on the floor. Charlotte leaned over him, caging his body under hers. She held his arms above his head, her nipples brushing his muscular chest.
“You know, I’m used to being the one in charge.” His eyes were dark as he looked hungrily at her breasts.
His short hair was bed-head messy, just the way she liked it, the pulse just under his jaw flickering madly. The muscles of his shoulders were bulky, his chest smooth and well-defined. Everything about this powerful man turned her on.
“And I like that.” She released his hands, but before he could take control, she slipped down between his legs. His thick erection lay against his belly, a teardrop of liquid glistening at the tip. She flicked it off slowly with her tongue and he groaned. “But are you saying you want me to stop? Because I will if you want me to.”
He said nothing. Just waited. And watched.
His balls were heavy and loose in her hand as she took him into her mouth. He arched his back and hissed loudly.
She was pretty certain that was her answer.
“SO TELL ME ABOUT this Council,” Charlotte said, running her hand over his chest. “Who is on it and what do you do?”
“There are twelve North American regions, each with its own small Council. At the local level, we function like a court, deciding cases among our people and interpreting laws. Several times a year, the regions meet to make necessary policy changes and to carry out execution orders. We also meet periodically with our European counterparts.”
Charlotte shivered. “Does that happen a lot? The executions?”
“Given our aggressive tendencies, my people are more prone to violence and that requires a certain brand of justice. These laws have held our people together, kept our existence a secret from humans for many, many centuries. And although they might seem archaic at times, even barbaric, they’ve served us well.”
Charlotte was quiet for a while before she spoke again. “So, what does it feel like? You know…when a vampire takes a human’s blood?”
Trace stared at the draped fabric above their heads. It felt good to be talking so openly and honestly. Surprisingly good. He caressed the back of her hand. “My understanding is that it’s a sharp, stinging sensation as the fangs pierce the skin, but that the pain quickly subsides.”
“Is it clinical, where the person holds out their wrist, or is there something more?”
“It can be fairly clinical, yes. A quick sip at the wrist and the whole thing is over. But it isn’t always. Why are you asking? Being around us, are you worried that something might happen?”
Her hand stopped moving, resting directly over his heart. “Because I want to experience that with you.”
His
pulse thundered in his ears. Surely, he hadn’t heard her correctly. “I don’t understand.”
“If my memories need to be taken, I want to leave something of me with you, even if it’s temporary.”
Stunned at this revelation, he considered it for a moment. Her lifeblood in his system, feeding him, nourishing him, giving him strength. Just thinking about it made him hard again, despite the fact that they’d just made love. “But I haven’t taken blood from a human host for a long time.”
“Good. Then it’ll be extra special for both of us.”
He rubbed the tip of his tongue behind his teeth, where his fangs were threatening to emerge. She wanted him this badly?
She reached between his legs and stroked him. He moved against her hand.
What would her blood taste like? Although she wasn’t a sweetblood, he knew it would taste sinfully sweet to him.
“If you don’t want to,” she continued, “that’s okay, too. I mean, if it’s against your beliefs and all that.”
“You mean now?”
“Yes,” she answered.
He almost laughed as he pushed on her hip. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in it—there was a reason his kind had the ability to wipe a human’s memory—but he had never wanted to be distracted by it. Taking blood from vials had always served his purpose. Until now.
She lay back for him against the bed, her eyes dancing with excitement. Would she find the experience as thrilling as he knew he would? Many found it pleasurable, which was why the lure of a vampire’s kiss could be so seductive.
“Are you sure about this?” As he tuned in to the beat of her heart, his fangs broke through his gums and he turned away slightly. “Don’t look, Char. It may frighten you.”
She held his face between her palms and stared at his mouth. “Trace, I find everything about you beautiful. Your body, your mind, your dedication, your passion. And yes, even this.”
And in that moment, he knew that he loved her. His aspirations of sitting on the Council suddenly didn’t seem as important as this amazing woman who thought this about him in spite of everything he was. Instead of his father’s admonishments ringing in his head, he remembered instead all of his grandmother’s talks as she gave him permission to be happy.
And being with Charlotte made him happier than he’d ever been in his life. She accepted him for what he was now, not what he could be or should be in the future.
With his tongue, he found the precise spot on her neck where his fangs would penetrate. Her pulse beat madly under his lips as it waited for him, her skin slightly salty. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She ran her hand up his arm, encouraging him to continue. “Yes, Trace, I am.” She spoke those words with soft conviction.
He wanted this, too. More than he’d ever thought possible. His teeth grazed her neck and she shivered. Then, without waiting a moment longer, he locked onto her vein and bit.
“Oh,” she gasped, as his teeth sank into her flesh. He hesitated and she stroked his hair. “I’m fine, Trace. It’s…it’s really kind of nice.” When she spoke, her voice was more like a purr, a vibration against his lips.
Sealing his lips over her vein, he closed his eyes and let her blood fill his mouth. Oh, God, it was indeed sweet on the back of his tongue, sweeter than any he’d tasted before. He could hardly believe that this beautiful woman so freely gave herself to him. Even after all he’d done. When he swallowed, her warmth traveled down his throat and he felt it rejuvenating his body.
There had to be another way, he thought as his mouth filled again. And if there wasn’t…if the Council balked…well… He just wouldn’t give her up, he decided. He loved her too much to let that happen. Instantly, it felt as if a million pounds had been lifted from his heart. The dilemma he’d grappled with the past few weeks—the past year—gone. She meant more to him than the seat on the Council.
CHAPTER NINE
CHARLOTTE SLIPPED HER FEET into the strappy heels and took one last look in the mirror. She certainly wasn’t used to seeing herself like this. With her hair up, her makeup done professionally and this beautiful dress, she felt as if she were ready to walk down the red carpet at a movie premiere. All she needed was a handsome man to escort her. She had just such a man in mind.
She’d put the finishing touches on the last few decorations this morning and the caterers had arrived at noon. The party was now someone else’s responsibility until it was time to dismantle everything again. She thought about Trace—how he respected her, cared about her ideas, really listened to her, laughed with her—and she realized it wasn’t the tangible stuff that she’d miss. It was Trace. She could be in a cabin in the middle of nowhere—far from the city lights, the gourmet meals, the elegant trappings—but if Trace were with her, she’d have everything she needed. That is, if she could remember him.
The past few nights with him had been amazing. After he’d first taken her blood, he’d done so every time they’d made love since. She loved the anticipation of his warm lips at her neck. The sharp sting followed by the endorphins flooding her system. She’d teased him that at this rate, she’d have to start taking iron supplements. But he only took a few sips each time before he withdrew and sealed the marks. She touched her neck now. A little tender, but it was the good kind of hurt.
She didn’t want to think that soon this would all be over.
Earlier, Vik had brought in her hairdresser and nail person and the two of them spent all afternoon getting ready. The estate had a small salon on the lower level, complete with shampoo bowls, massage chairs and several nail stations.
Vik had said it was much more fun having a lady friend to get ready with. Hearing that had warmed Charlotte’s heart and made it hard to refuse. It was something her own grandmother would’ve said to her. Charlotte sensed that it had been a long time since Vik had had much female company.
After her hair and nails were done, Charlotte had returned to their quarters to finish getting dressed. Expecting to slip into the cocktail dress she’d brought from home, she was stunned to find a new outfit laid out on the bed. She skimmed her hand over the sequined fabric that clung to her hips and twirled a circle in front of the full-length mirror.
How in the world had he guessed her size correctly? The dress hugged her curves as if it were custom-made. It was simple in the front, with long sleeves that came down over the tops of her hands and a hemline kissing her toes, and the back had a beautiful drape to it. She had to admit, Trace had excellent taste in haute couture.
The shoes were perfect, too, even though her feet were probably going to be killing her in about an hour. Four-inch heels, and they showed off her new pedicure, including the tiny crystals on her toes.
She was so focused on not stepping on the hem of her dress as she exited the room that she didn’t notice Trace until she heard his low whistle. He’d been sitting on a wood bench in the hallway alcove and rose to greet her.
Her heart forgot how to beat for a moment as her eyes drank him in. A nice-looking man in a tuxedo was always eye-catching, but Trace took it to a whole different level. The cut of the jacket emphasized his broad shoulders and didn’t hide how his muscular torso tapered down to lean hips.
God, how she’d love to undress him right now. Inch by inch and button by button, she’d deconstruct him carefully in order to savor the experience.
Trace definitely wore the suit. The suit didn’t wear him.
As she approached him, she grazed her fingertips along the top of the occasional table to steady herself. His hair was just the right amount of messy, his skin smooth and freshly shaven. The sandalwood and pine scent of his aftershave was subtle yet distinct. Clean, pure, unadulterated male.
His lips were slightly parted and she could just see the tip of his tongue. But those eyes of his were what really captured her attention. She wouldn’t have been able to look away from him if she’d tried.
They were dark, intense, hungry.
All because of her.
<
br /> And she loved it.
He sauntered toward her like a lion approached his mate—powerful, in control and confident. If it struck his fancy right now to lift her skirts and make love to her, she had no doubt she’d comply willingly. Despite the guests starting to arrive two floors below them, one word from him would be all it would take. She’d slip her hand into his and lead him back to the bedroom.
His gaze wandered lazily down to her toes, then back up again, as if he had all the time in the world. A knowing smiled curved his lips, making her skin tingle with delight. “Are you wearing them?” His voice was deeper than normal, making her acutely aware of that sensitive spot where her inner thighs touched.
“Yes,” she answered.
He exhaled slowly, ruffling her hair. “I knew you would.”
Then, gently, he drew the back of his finger down along her neck and leaned in close. She arched her head back, wanting to feel his lips against her.
Alongside the gown on the bed had sat a gold box. Inside, beneath the tissue, was a gorgeous black lace corset, panties and stockings. The printing on the card was bold. “The gown is for you. These are for me.”
She’d never worn a corset before, so it took a few minutes to figure it out. It felt strangely, yet wonderfully, restrictive. The lace wasn’t all that soft and the boning pushed her breasts up, making her cleavage much more substantial than she was used to. But when she slipped the gown over her head and covered it all up, she felt very naughty. Like she was harboring a delicious secret. Tonight, everyone would see the gown, but they’d have no idea what she had on underneath.
Except for Trace.
Even now, she could feel the slight scratchiness of the lace rubbing against skin that wasn’t used to the texture. No matter where she was tonight or what she was doing, the sensation would always bring her thoughts back to the corset and him. He’d done that on purpose, she realized.
“Good God. What have I done?” He practically growled as he pressed her against the wall.
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