His gloved hand claimed hers. “I have a theory, Miss Craven.”
“I’m eager to hear it, Your Grace.”
Once again they faced each other. “The fiddler is not your pimp.”
She understood why he might have assumed such a thing. Thanatos, a shadow in the darkness, had coaxed ethereal magic from his violin as she and the duke had reached shattering orgasm, but his remark still stung.
She forced a brittle smile. “That’s correct.”
He inclined his head in mocking appreciation. “He’s your lover.”
“Is he?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Although possibly he’s impotent.” The duke shrugged as if it made not the slightest difference. “Regardless, he is your protector and he enjoys watching you fuck other men.”
She stumbled, caught herself, and flashed him a resentful glare when his fingers tightened around hers, steadying her.
“You possess a vivid imagination.”
Green eyes flayed her. “I possess an excellent memory.”
So did she. The knowledge flared between them, volcanic and deadly. “And yet you are wrong.”
“Then enlighten me. You fascinate me, Miss Craven, and I’m determined to discover exactly what you are.”
If he ever discovered exactly what she was, he’d go insane. Vampires didn’t exist in polite society, and their immortal slayers were unheard of. Or perhaps he would merely think she was insane and attempt to have her locked away in an asylum. Either way, she had no intention of allowing him to unearth such devastating information.
“And do you always get your way?” She challenged him with a haughty glance.
“Always.” The dance concluded, yet he did not relinquish her hand nor acknowledge the musicians. His entire focus appeared centered upon her.
“I fear this time you face disappointment.”
He pulled her toward him in a most ungentlemanly manner. Desire quivered along her skin and spiraled around her sensitive nipples causing them to ache with need. She stared up into his eyes and tried to convince herself all she wanted from him was another mindless fuck in a darkened corner.
“My dear Miss Craven.” His erotic whisper danced across her heated cheek. “I don’t take disappointment very well.”
She attempted to pull her hand from his, but failed. But then, she didn’t try too hard.
“I believe everyone is staring at us, Your Grace.” Not that she cared. Yet she should, for to draw attention to herself was foolhardy in the extreme.
“Let them stare.” His green gaze bore into her, and liquid heat stirred deep within her pussy. “Let them see how I’ve claimed you.”
Her mouth dried and senses spun. This was what she wanted and yet she couldn’t allow his arrogance to go unchallenged.
“We’re no longer in a filth-strewn back alley.”
“If that is your preference, it can easily be arranged.”
Her pulses fluttered. Danger reeked in every erratic breath she took and yet she hadn’t felt this intoxicated with being flesh and blood for more years than she could count.
Three years ago.
But then only briefly, a blink in her existence, a moment of madness she had never imagined could be recaptured.
“Are you propositioning me, Your Grace?”
His smile was devoid of warmth. “Would you vanish on me once again if I were?”
So he did recall their conversation. She wondered, as she had then, what proposition he could possibly offer a woman he had just taken in a squalid alley.
She deliberately glanced at his groin, and was gratified to note the bulge in his breeches appeared larger than ever. “That depends upon your proposition.”
He raised her hand to his lips.
“Meet me outside in ten minutes.” His lips brushed her gloved knuckles yet she could feel the heat of his breath in the marrow of her bones. “I don’t care what excuse you give your chaperone or your lover or whoever else you are with tonight. Just be there.”
Before she could respond, he escorted her back to Lady Harriet, where he proceeded to charm the elderly lady until she all but swooned. Then he turned to her.
“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Craven.” His eyes promised that he expected them to enjoy far more pleasure before this night was out.
“My dear,” Lady Harriet fluttered her hand against her ample bosom as they watched him stroll from them. “I can scarcely believe you attracted the attention of the duke. He dances so rarely! And he appears quite besotted with you. You are quite the object of envy among all the other young ladies here tonight.”
Morana dragged her attention from the duke’s broad shoulders, so magnificently enhanced by the cut of his black coat. Poor Lady Harriet would likely suffer an apoplexy if she discovered exactly why the duke was so besotted with her.
“Is he a recluse?”
It didn’t matter whether he was or not. If she had any sense she would refuse his command to meet with him. She would beckon Thanatos and they would melt into the night, the way they always melted into the night. And the duke would be left to curse her name for leaving him with a pounding erection and an unfulfilled promise.
But for too long she’d waited for this. For too long she’d dreamed about meeting him again, and now that she had there was no way in Hades she was going to walk away.
Not tonight.
The contract could wait.
“Oh he is quite sociable during the Season,” Lady Harriet said and Morana frowned at the oddly glazed expression in the old woman’s eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Lady Harriet had enjoyed one too many glasses of ratafia. “Quite sociable altogether, but in a reserved manner, you understand. And he rarely invites anyone to his estate. Most odd.”
Morana glanced at Thanatos and he caught her eye, curiosity sizzling.
“I am a little faint,” she said to Lady Harriet. “I need a breath of air.” She patted her flushed cheek with the back of her hand and hoped the other woman wouldn’t insist on accompanying her.
Lady Harriet smiled in a strangely vacant manner as though she didn’t find Morana’s comment in the least bit untoward. “Of course, my dear.”
With studied nonchalance, she weaved her way toward the orchestra, and Thanatos, without missing a note, angled his body in her direction.
“You have an assignation.” It wasn’t a question.
She flipped open her fan to hide their conversation. “I have to get him out of my head, Thanatos. Perhaps one more tumble will cure me of this addiction.”
Thanatos looked unconvinced. “Is this wise? My heart aches to see you in such pain. Meeting him again can’t help, Morana.”
“I need this, Thanatos.” She glanced over her shoulder, but the duke was nowhere to be seen. “And what does it matter if we do meet on occasion? He’ll never discover what I truly am, and when the time comes for us to part—then at least I have some memories to warm my heart in the future.”
“Then wait a moment. Let me accompany you, to ensure your safety.”
She smiled, and couldn’t refrain from brushing her hand against his arm, a sisterly touch of love. Their souls were entwined, their fates welded together. A facet of the contract, and they rarely allowed each other out of their sight.
“Don’t concern yourself. He can’t hurt me.” Once again, she glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll return shortly.”
Before he could respond, she turned and made her way through the press of bodies, not wanting to keep the duke waiting in case he changed his mind. She knew she played with the fires of Hades by encouraging a mortal lover but didn’t care. She would take this coupling and, if she could manage it, would arrange another time when she and the duke could meet again.
At the door, she employed her limited gift of illusion on those who would obstruct her and they glanced away from her, as if she was no longer there. She drew in a sharp breath and fought the dizziness that swept through her mind in a shocking wave. She hadn’t wan
dered far from Thanatos, but never before had she used her gift without him by her side. It hadn’t occurred to her his immediate proximity was so vital for the successful employment of her powers.
She hesitated, suddenly uncertain of the wisdom of her plan. Should she wait until he could accompany her outside? They both knew the contract bound them together as securely as two halves of the whole, but surely there could be no danger to their existence with such an insignificant distance between them?
The unsavory possibility hovered in her mind and tugged at her heart. She looked back into the assembly rooms, but could no longer see Thanatos. Yet she saw how her diluted magic was already fading on those around her.
Of course she and Thanatos would survive a few moments separation. It wasn’t as if she intended to go farther than a darkened corner. There was no danger of their souls severing and life-force expiring.
With a deep breath, she stepped outside and before she realized what was happening, a shadow loomed over her. Soft blackness wrapped around her like an iron-bound cloud and she was bundled unceremoniously across the cobblestone path.
Chapter Five
“Be still,” Alexius commanded as he dragged her through the shadows toward his waiting carriage. Damn, but she was strong for a human female. “I’m protecting your reputation, woman.”
Her struggles ceased, but a wave of such astonishment emanated from her that he almost laughed aloud.
And it was, without doubt, a most humorous situation. Lifting her into his arms he climbed into his carriage and deposited her on the richly upholstered seat as Evan secured the door.
She tore off the black cloak and glowered at him. In the faint glow from the small lamp affixed to the door, her carefully curled hair was now ruffled and wild and her breasts heaved with indignation above the square cut of her fashionable muslin gown.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He shot her a wolfish grin as he tossed his gloves aside. “That is hardly the language I’d expect to hear from a lady of the ton.”
She opened her mouth at the same instant as the carriage jerked forward, and instead of shooting more venom his way her breath gusted out in shock, and her eyes widened in clear alarm.
“Are you kidnapping me?” She sounded aghast and jerked the velvet curtain aside to peer into the night.
“Certainly not.” Of course he was. “I’m merely putting some distance between us and the assembly rooms so none of the revelers hear your screams of pleasure as I fuck you.”
The curtain fell back into place as she turned to glare at him. “Stop this carriage instantly.”
“My dear Morana.” He enjoyed the way she stiffened with affront at his mocking endearment. “You’re in no position to give orders.”
She let out shaky breath, as if the prospect of being abducted truly did bother her. And yet why would it? He didn’t know what game she played but it was a dangerous one and after all, he wasn’t offering her something she hadn’t before experienced.
“Stop the carriage, and I will acquiesce to your demands.”
Fast as lightning, he grasped her wrists in one hand. “You’ll acquiesce to my demands regardless.”
The tip of her tongue moistened the seam of her lips, and lust speared through his groin and along his thickening shaft. Three years he’d waited for this moment and now that she was in his power, he was going to enjoy every last second.
He tugged her to her feet and she stumbled against his knees, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. He inhaled her fresh, clean scent, rose petals and raindrops and without conscious thought, he drifted his mouth across her tempting skin. He could feel the frantic beat of her pulse vibrating against his lips, against the tip of his searching tongue. His fangs pierced his gums, aching with need and want and rising desperation.
“I should punish you for leaving me in that alley, Morana.”
Her uneven breath feathered across his cheek and her cleavage beckoned.
“I delivered. I owe you nothing from that night.”
“I hadn’t finished with you.”
She moved restlessly from him and tried to free herself. “That’s not my concern. It doesn’t give you the right to take me without my consent.”
He wrapped his free hand around her loosened hair and slowly pulled her head toward him. She resisted and pain flashed across her face but it made no difference. She had no choice but to bow before him.
“I have the right to do whatever I desire.” He breathed the words into her face, watched her pupils dilate and the musky scent of her arousal washed through the enclosed carriage. “And no one will miss you, Morana. No one will instigate a search for your whereabouts. You are completely at my mercy.”
Her lips parted. He could feel her fighting her desire and it only intensified his own. Damn it, he’d hoped his memory had enhanced her allure, that his recollection of that night in the alley had been tainted with rose-hued sentimentality.
But he’d been wrong. If anything, his formidable memory had diluted her charms.
“Lady Harriet,” she began and he laughed softly, mockingly.
“Lady Harriet has already forgotten your existence.” He raised an eyebrow at her bemused expression. “I have skill in the art of hypnotism.” That was one way of explaining how he had the power to manipulate the minds of humans. “You’re nothing more than a dream to her. After all, it’s not as if you’re truly related to her, is it?”
She swallowed, and the column of her vulnerable throat caught his attention, hypnotized him. How sweet her blood would be. Even more so for the three years she had made him wait to taste her.
Need clawed through his guts and lust gripped his balls in a merciless vise. He dragged his rabid gaze from her tempting flesh to glare into her wide, dark eyes.
“I—I am her great-niece.” The words came from her reluctantly, as though she was drugged.
He angled toward her, until their noses all but touched. “And that’s why you offered yourself on the streets to me, is it? Because noble blood flows in your veins.”
Her lashes swept over her eyes, slow, languorous and infinitely erotic.
“I wasn’t offering myself.” Her voice was smoky, tinged with rising lust. “I was dancing.”
Crushed rose petals filled his senses and twisted through his pounding blood.
“Dancing to entice. To ensnare. So your worthless protector could seek release by watching you fuck me.” Rage heated the last word, rage at having been used, at allowing himself to be so used.
But most of all, rage at the knowledge he’d been unable to eradicate the memory of her body, her voice and her damned mocking smile.
“I dance because it is all I can do.” Her knees shifted against his, as if even now she swayed to music only she could hear. He tightened his grip on her hands and her hair.
“I expect more from you than dance, Morana. And this time we will have no perverted audience urging us on with the sound of his cursed violin.”
Morana tried to pull her hands from his punishing grasp, and unlike before, she used all her considerable strength. But the duke held her as if she merely squirmed like a disobedient child.
Her bones ached with the effort.
“You’re hurting me.” The words slipped free from her lips, startling her. No man possessed the ability to injure her and yet she had the sudden, shocking certainty that if she didn’t take care, the duke possessed the ability to not only injure her body but also her heart.
“Kiss me.” His challenge vibrated through the sexually charged air. “And I’ll release you.”
She recalled his identical demand back in the darkness of the alley. She had denied him then. And had regretted it ever since. Involuntarily she glanced at his lips. Sensual. Inviting. A part of her yearned to taste him so intimately but another part warned such liberty would be her undoing.
“Is my request so unreasonable?”
She heard the mocking tone in his voice, but ther
e was something else, too, something he tried to suppress.
Longing.
Desire shimmered across her exposed flesh, tightened her nipples in anticipation and damp heat trickled through her pussy.
It was just one kiss. It wouldn’t cause the world to end or her heart to cease beating.
One kiss would change nothing.
It couldn’t be that hard. She had already fucked him. She intended to fuck him again, and the memory and the anticipation fired her blood.
Yet first, he demanded a kiss, and the technicalities intimidated.
Tentatively she brushed her lips against his, a fleeting, butterfly brush, barely a kiss at all and yet a sharp blade of want twisted deep inside her breast at the brief contact.
She pulled back, her breathing erratic, as if they had just shared a shattering orgasm instead of surely the swiftest meeting of lips in existence.
The tip of his tongue tasted where she had touched and she couldn’t tear her fascinated gaze from him.
“You kiss like an untouched virgin.” The corner of his mouth tipped into an unappreciative sneer and yet, buried in that condemning tone, white hot lust simmered. As if the kiss, despite its inherent chasteness, had aroused him beyond belief.
“I told you before.” The words were breathless. “I don’t kiss.” But had she ever kissed? Before? Impenetrable blackness hugged her mind, hindered her recollections, but then his hand released her hair and slid to her nape and the unease retreated to the dark shadows in her brain.
“You will kiss me, Morana.” His fingers tightened around her nape, reminding her she was in his power. So he thought. And yet trepidation raced along her spine because for the first time in forever, she was on her own and the rules of the hunt no longer applied.
“Or what?”
His teeth flashed in a brief smile. White, perfect. Even.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, blood throbbed through her veins. This wasn’t a hunt such as she was used to, but it was a hunt nevertheless. Except this time, she was the hunted.
“Or I shall never release you.”
Dark tendrils of need snaked through her soul. She ached to taste him once again.
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