I Only Have Fangs For You yb-3

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I Only Have Fangs For You yb-3 Page 14

by Kathy Love


  “It’s not Lizzie,” he said coolly. “And I think we both know that losing the key wouldn’t keep me out.”

  Mina stepped back, stunned by the angry sparks flashing in his eyes. She knew he’d been mad last night, but there was more rage on his face now than she’d ever seen.

  She considered closing the door, her flight impulse telling her that was the wisest course of action. But he had just said he didn’t need a key to enter her apartment, so she couldn’t keep him out if he was intent on getting inside.

  And there was also another part of her, a small, tenuous part of her that was beginning to believe, despite his apparent anger, Sebastian would never hurt her. He’d never threatened her since they met, even after everything she’d done to him.

  So she took a deep, calming breath and pushed her fear aside.

  “Please, come in.”

  He strode into the apartment, stopping in the middle of the living room and then turning to look at her.

  Mina calmly closed the door. She hesitated, but then took a couple of cautious steps toward him.

  “Let’s get this straight, right off the bat,” he said, his tone hard, no hint of his usual smooth, silky resonance. “I didn’t help that little girl for any other reasons than the ones I told you.”

  Mina opened her mouth to speak, but Sebastian continued on. “I realize that you have been brainwashed or whatever by the Society, but I refuse to allow myself to be vilified by a group of crazy preternaturals who actually thought that an organization with the anagram SPAMM was a good idea.”

  Mina frowned. She’d never noticed that before.

  “And,” Sebastian said, “I agreed to this bargain with you, and I’ll be damned if I’m backing out of it. Because that is exactly what you expect me to do. You don’t believe I can go a month without biting a human. And I intend to prove you wrong. But if I’m keeping my end of this damned bargain, so are you.”

  She nodded, but he didn’t notice.

  “And I’m also not going along with your stupid rules. I flirt, that’s what I do. And as far as I know that isn’t a crime against humanity.”

  “No, it’s not,” she agreed, but he didn’t seem to hear.

  “And this rule about touching is ludicrous. If I touch you and it bothers you, then just tell me. I can certainly stop, it’s not like I’m some uncontrollable monster who’s going to ravish you against your consent…»

  The rest of Sebastian’s words faded away as his face was replaced by another. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a wide smile that suddenly twisted and distorted.

  Mina made a tiny noise in the back of her throat, then blinked, her eyes refocusing on Sebastian. Tall, lean Sebastian with his unruly golden hair, his golden eyes, and lopsided smile.

  Not that Mina could see the last attribute at the moment, because he continued to rail on, his golden eyes darker in his anger.

  Suddenly Mina could feel laughter bubbling in her belly. He was mad. As mad as she’d ever seen him, and really she wasn’t scared.

  She was scared of the things he made her feel. She was scared to open up to someone like him. But that was her own problem. Her own issue to overcome. She believed him when he said he’d never do anything against her consent. That didn’t make her own fears any easier to overcome, but it did mean that she owed him an apology. Maybe for a lot of things.

  She walked toward him.

  “I’ve never forced a woman, and I sure as hell wouldn’t start-”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, touching his arm. “I shouldn’t have asked that question last night. Not after the wonderful things you showed me.”

  He stared down at her, his eyes roaming her face. Then slowly that smile she’d been imagining returned, lopsided and lovely.

  “You’re forgiven.”

  She blinked at the sudden shift in his mood, not sure what to say. He’d been very angry, and though she honestly had no experience with the moods of men outside of her father and her brother and they’d been gone from her life for nearly a hundred years, she hadn’t expected him to forgive her so easily.

  “Great,” he said. “Now go get dressed. Not that I don’t really like those.”

  She looked down at the pale turquoise silk pajamas that she’d forgotten she was wearing until he pointed to them. The pajamas were cut in a baggy men’s style, but suddenly she was very aware that she was naked underneath the smooth, fluttery material.

  She nodded and hurried down the hall to get away from the hungry glow in Sebastian’s eyes. And she knew the small jolt of fear inside her was not due to his look, but the fact that she liked it.

  Sebastian watched her dash toward her bedroom.

  Well, that had gone better than he’d expected. He’d expected her to either shut down or run away as she had during their other confrontations. But she hadn’t. She’d reached out to him. Touching him, apologizing. Huge, huge steps. And he’d sensed very little fear in her. That realization made him ridiculously happy.

  He sighed, relieved that his angry outburst hadn’t frightened her. He hated to lose his temper. Anger was emotionally draining, not particularly fun, and usually unproductive. And frankly, he’d lost his cool more in the time he’d known Mina than in most of his undead existence. And with Mina, getting angry could have been the end of any possible trust. She wanted to believe the worst about him, yet she hadn’t.

  He had to be making headway with her. She couldn’t truly believe he was an ogre and agree to continue the bargain. All progress. Maybe she was starting to trust him. Again happiness zipped though him, and he smiled.

  Then he thought about the way she’d looked in those silky pajamas, the way the material clung to her breasts, casting them in a mellow glow. The V of the collar revealing a modest little glimpse of milky skin.

  He collapsed into a chair, shaking his head slightly at his body’s immediate reaction to the mere memory. The women at the club often wore the equivalent of skimpy lingerie, and he’d never found any of those outfits as exciting as Mina’s modest pajamas.

  He wanted her. He wanted to follow her into her bedroom, throw her down on the bed and make love to her for hours. But he also knew he couldn’t rush Mina. He knew she wasn’t ready for too much from him, too fast.

  He’d never been a patient man, but he’d be patient for Mina. Right now, he was just pleased that she was sticking with their deal.

  A few moments later, Mina rejoined him. Tonight she wore a blue tailored shirt a few shades lighter than her eyes, and a black skirt with blue flowers the exact color of her shirt. She looked prim and proper and Sebastian thought his cock would burst through the seams of his jeans at the sight of her.

  Patience, buddy.

  His cock leapt in response, the organ as insubordinate as ever. Sebastian ignored it as he stood and ran his palms over the front of his jeans, hoping the action would pull the snug denim away from the rather prominent bulge. He didn’t look down to see if his tactic worked, afraid she’d follow his gaze.

  Instead he smiled at her and held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, then nodded. She slipped her small, cool hand into his, and his chest tightened as though he’d made the biggest conquest of his life.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Where are we going?” Mina asked as they slid into the backseat of a taxi.

  “To LaGuardia,” Sebastian leaned forward to tell the driver.

  Mina frowned at him. “The airport?”

  He nodded, a mischievous smile on his lips.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I really think you should just learn to trust me.” His smile remained roguish as he settled back against the vinyl seat.

  Trust him. He kept saying that to her as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. She supposed for some people it was. But trust hadn’t been a part of her makeup for so long, she didn’t know if she even could. Absolute trust-without any doubts.

  Still, she felt herself lean back into the seat. S
he glanced at Sebastian. He was watching her, and she immediately turned her attention to the window, although she didn’t see the city going by. She was still debating trust-and why of all the beings in the world, she wished she could trust this one.

  Mina waited on the curb as Sebastian paid the fare. At this time of night, the airport wasn’t bustling like it must have been during the day, but there were still plenty of people milling about. Some struggled with heavy suitcases. Others rifled through their bags for tickets and IDs and other misplaced items; and there were those who walked resolutely, eager to be already at their final destination, wheeling small bags with long handles behind them.

  “Okay,” Sebastian said, appearing at her side. “Ready?”

  He held out his hand. She looked at it for just a moment, then slipped her hand into his. Holding hands with this man was becoming almost second nature to her. Almost.

  “You’re still not going to tell me what we’re doing here, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  She walked through the sliding glass doors, to see roped-off sections creating queues in front of the airline desks. People waited there, more luggage and harried expressions. The air seemed to crackle with tension. Excitement, nervousness, irritation.

  “It’s just as intense, but it feels totally different than the toy store, doesn’t it?”

  Mina blinked up at him, surprised he was so aware of what she was thinking. “Yes. Not nearly as nice, really.”

  “Wait,” he assured her. They walked down the wide corridor until they reached a bank of hard-looking, molded plastic chairs. Sebastian led her to them and gestured for her to sit.

  She frowned, but did. He sat too, his long leg pressed against the side of hers. She glanced down at where their bodies met, surprised at how much she reacted to the innocuous touch. She could feel the contact in every nerve ending, every cell of her body.

  Was this what he wanted them to do here?

  She moved her gaze from their legs to his face. He didn’t seem to notice the touch, his attention turned to the travelers.

  Mina smiled slightly to herself. He wouldn’t notice something as tame as their legs touching. After all, the first time she’d ever seen him, he’d been running his hands all over a woman on the dance floor. His hands all over her body. She wondered what that would feel like if just the pressure of his leg sent her body into sensory overload.

  She glanced at his hands, resting relaxed on his legs. He even had beautiful hands, broad palms, the knuckles slightly pronounced and long, masculine fingers.

  He sighed, and her gaze snapped back to his face.

  “We might have to wait a little while.”

  “For what?” she managed to collect her thoughts to ask, but before he could respond, she answered for him. “I know, I know, I’ll see.”

  He laughed, his wonderful laugh tingling over her. Did nothing this man did not affect her?

  “You’re catching on,” he said.

  “I don’t think I’ve had a choice.”

  He laughed again. “Oh, you always have a choice. But I think you like the mystery.”

  Mina looked at him askance, but had to admit she did rather like the mystery. She never would have guessed that about herself. And the spontaneity. Sebastian was a person who just did what he wanted, because he wanted to. That was exciting, even if it was also a little scary too.

  “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

  Mina blinked at the sudden question. Even the man’s conversational skills were spontaneous.

  “I–I don’t know,” she admitted. She’d never really thought about traveling, at least not since she crossed over. She couldn’t very well get on a crowded plane or train. Between the people and the twelve hours or more of pesky sunlight, travel just hadn’t seemed a possibility.

  “Do you travel?” she asked.

  “Sure. I was just in West Virginia visiting my brother, Christian, when I got called back because of… ” He paused. “Well, you know why.”

  Mina nodded, not quite able to meet his eyes.

  “But,” he continued, “I’ve been to just about every country.”

  “Really? How?”

  “It is a little tricky,” he admitted. “Night flights, and you have to pray for no delays or layovers. Sometimes I just travel in my coffin in the cargo holds of ships surrounded by crates of soil from my homeland.”

  Mina gaped at him.

  “A joke. You know, Dracula.”

  She nodded, looking away so he wouldn’t see she actually appreciated his dumb humor.

  “Is that why you call me Mina? Because of Dracula?” she asked suddenly.

  Sebastian nodded. “In part.”

  She considered pressing him further, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear that it was some sort of joke or something. Instead she asked, “Isn’t it dangerous-traveling?”

  “Sure. But that’s part of the fun.”

  She gave him a dubious look, and he laughed.

  “Really. It is.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Sebastian shifted in his seat. Mina could seem to feel the ripple of muscles through the denim of his jeans.

  “If you did feel like you could travel, where would you want to go?”

  He leaned toward her, and she realized he had the amazing ability to make a person feel like their responses were very important. She felt warm for a moment, then she remembered she’d been conned by a similar behavior once before-and the high cost of that con.

  “Come on tell me,” he encouraged, his gaze still intent.

  What would it hurt to answer him? She was wiser now, and this was just harmless conversation. She thought about his question, for the first time in a long time allowing herself to think about the dreams of her childhood.

  “Well,” she gave him a cautious look, wondering if he’d find her choices rather predictable and dull. “I’d love to go to London and Paris.”

  Sebastian studied her for a moment, then reached out to cup her cheek, running his thumb along her cheekbone just beneath her glasses’ frame.

  “Why would you be embarrassed by that?”

  Mina’s lips parted, finding it hard to concentrate on his question when he was touching her so gently. “Because they aren’t as exotic and mysterious as other places.”

  “Well, you’ve never seen Soho after dark. Very exotic. Of course, the mystery aspect comes from whether the women on the streets are in fact women or men.”

  Mina frowned, not quite following what he was saying. But she was growing rather accustomed to that.

  “So you’ve been to London?” she asked.

  Sebastian laughed at that. “I’m British. Was British, I guess. I’m not sure how that works if you haven’t lived there for over a hundred years.”

  Mina smiled. “Well, your accent is gone.”

  “Is it now, mum?” he said, slipping into an exaggerated English accent. “Blimey, I do believe you are right.”

  He sounded like a bad impression of the Artful Dodger.

  Mina laughed, and Sebastian’s smile faded.

  “You have a lovely laugh.” His thumb traced the curve of her smile. “You should do it more often.”

  Mina’s smile faded too, and her gaze dropped to Sebastian’s lips.

  He leaned forward again, that same intensity in his expression. As though she was very important to him.

  As if having a will of their own, her lips parted in expectation. But just as his lips would press to hers, he pulled back, dropping his hand from her cheek.

  “Umm.” He frowned as if he was trying to remember something he’d forgotten. “So yeah, I grew up in England, mostly on our estate in Derbyshire. But we’d go to London for the season. We had a townhouse there. Still do actually. Not the same one, though.”

  Mina suppressed the strange unsatisfied feeling swirling low in her belly, intrigued by what he was saying. “You must be old.”

  He grinned a
t her question. “Why? Do I look aged?”

  A flush heated her normally cool skin, and she looked down to smooth her skirt. “You know you don’t.”

  His grin widened more, and she knew he was pleased with her flustered embarrassment and almost-compliment-after all he was a vampire. She glanced quickly at him. Although he did look better than any vampire she’d ever seen. Of course, he knew that.

  “I’m two hundred and ten years old. Born in 1796.”

  Her eyes widened. “You lived during the Regency in England,” she murmured.

  She knew many vampires in the Society who were older, much older, but she found it fascinating to meet a person who actually lived through the time period she loved so much.

  “Your favorite.” He smiled, and she started to ask him how he knew, but then she remembered he’d looked around her apartment. She had so many books from and about that era, and he must have seen them. The idea unnerved her. It was like he’d gotten this deeply personal insight into her, and she had none of him.

  “I met Jane Austen once. At a house party in Cheltenham.”

  Mina gaped at him, the uneasiness instantly forgotten. “Really? What was it like?”

  His perfect brow furrowed as he tried to remember. How could he forget something so monumental?

  “As I recall, the house party was quite dull. Bad punch.”

  Before she realized what she was going to do, she smacked his leg. “Not the house party. Jane Austen!”

  He laughed, and she realized he’d known what she meant all along. “She was interesting-she was older than I. In her late thirties. A lot more interesting than many of the other women there. Very perceptive and funny. And she did a mean quadrille.”

  Mina stared at him. She imagined him in a crowded ballroom, twirling the Jane Austen around in his arms, talking and laughing.

  Suddenly, she felt envious, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he’d met and talked to Jane, or that Jane had gotten to see him in his Regency finery, got to dance with him and enjoy his appreciation.

  She looked away from him and studied her skirt again. Had he done more with Jane than dance and talk? Even with the propriety of the time and the differences in their ages, would Jane have been capable of saying no to him? Had she thought she’d met the embodiment of her Mr. Darcy? No, no, her Mr. Wickham-lovely and flirtatious but also dangerous.

 

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