sanguineangels

by Various

  “Then you’re fired,” she argued. “I don’t need another person trying to put me on a shelf.”

  He cupped her chin, his thumb stroking the soft skin in his palm. “Cara, listen to my words, not the dictate. You are not safe. I have to keep you safe.” His tone gentled, his heart slamming hard with her in his hold once more. A reaction he had yet to become accustomed to. “And make no mistake, Brakka has decided to come after you. He does not stop until his goals are reached.” He inched closer, body heat seeping through his clothing. “I am the only one who can stop Brakka. Not Houston, not David, and not some token paid guard. I know him. I trained with him, and he is ruthless.”

  “How do you know him so well? He hates you.” She had stopped retreating, finally listening. “The night of the fight, he was so cold, so angry. I knew the second he discovered you. Hatred almost overwhelmed me.” Her eyes studied him; he could almost feel their caressing touch. He sat in the back of her thoughts, feeling her work her way through her anger, her hatred of being controlled. He should have known. She had been protected not only by her family because of her gifts and talents, but by her friends for her entire life. She would resent one more person curtailing her freedom to enjoy life.

  Diego slid a hand around her neck, her skin warm, her pulse beating strongly into his palm as he soaked her into him. With trust came the grudging need to reciprocate. It was just that every nugget he gave her brought her that much closer to the truth, and he dreaded it.

  “Brakka was my best friend. He did not hate me until I refused to follow in his footsteps. We grew up together, fought together, trained together. We are not related, but we are bonded by blood. I did not take the path he chose.” Diego encircled her with his arms, needing her in his hold to complete him. “I did not lose my soul. He has. He hates me for that alone. I hate him for destroying me.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Destroying you?” Her voice was thoughtful, and it fed into his blood again. Just one of those things she could do. “Like a company? Did he ruin you financially?”

  Diego shook his head, wishing it were so simple. He did not care about money. “No. He did something far, far worse.” His voice had deadened, the remembered ache, the pain of his betrayal, of a sacred friendship, burning so deeply, he tasted the bitterness on his tongue.

  “I’m sorry, Diego.” Titania wrapped her arms around his waist and held on. His chin settled on the top of her head, her silken tresses warming him. He accepted her compassion greedily. “I can feel your pain,” she said, her face pressed into his chest. “You loved him like a brother.”

  “Once.”

  She let out a tremulous breath. “And you have absolute faith he will come for me?”

  His chest ached with the knowledge that he was right. “I am certain his reasons have doubled now. Retribution for your interruption and…” He tucked a finger beneath her chin, lifting her luminous blue orbs to his, letting her see the truth. “Because you have become important to me.”

  What followed was meant only as a brush of skin, his lips to hers, an exclamation of his growing feelings for her, but the instant his lips found hers, all reasoning deserted him. She was sweet and hot, soft and seductive to his senses.

  The earth moved beneath his feet, rocked him to his soul, and he held her tighter to keep from flying off into space. Her body matched perfectly to his, meeting his planes and hard angles with the curves and valleys of a woman’s body. An unknown urge screamed in his head and pounded at his temples. To claim her. To make her completely his. To be able to protect her, regardless of time or distance.

  He shoved the thought far away. He would never pass on his curse. He would not condemn this woman of compassion to a life of death. Instead of dwelling on the impossible, he shifted his weight, bringing her flush against him. He glided a hand through the thick weight of her hair, savoring every electric sensation to his skin.

  He tasted her lips, nibbling at the corner of her mouth, feeling her breath, sipping at her lips until she gave in, and he burned.

  He moaned a low sound of need when he found moist sweetness. Molten heat coursed through his veins while hunger devoured him as he consumed her. White-hot lightning arced between them.

  Diego’s mouth glided from her nectar-filled lips to the underside of her jaw. The sweet scent of her essences filled his mind, bombarded him. She twisted closer, and he could feel every lush, rounded inch of her. She was trim with firm muscles beneath smooth skin. Full breasts pushed into him, and desire flared brighter.

  He nipped gently at her ear, and she sighed in answer, a bewitching sound that fed his own passions higher. His incisors exploded at the innocent timbre. He breathed her name, fearing for his sanity.

  Distantly, he heard the rumple of clothing hitting the floor. Then her hands were running up and down his back, slipping beneath the edges of his coat to find his ribs. Desire flared anew, raged, burned.

  He nibbled the delicate skin beneath her ear and swirled a scorching path down her neck. He ignited with her in his arms. Finding her pulse unerringly, the rush of blood called to him. The beat of her heart beneath his lips. His teeth scraped back and forth, seducing her. He could hear the pounding of her heart, hard, enticing. Wanting, a wanting so strong, he was lost to it as much as she was. “Titania,” he groaned, unable and unwilling to fight it. “Please. I need this. I need you.”

  She arched into him, and his teeth sank deep. Everything that he was took her in, drank in need, in insatiable hunger.

  Heat enveloped him; he became a conflagration of his hungers. It had happened. Diego had officially lost all control with her. Her hands tugged at clothing, and he pressed into her questing palms, groaning with a primal hunger when she touched enflamed skin for the first time. He lost all sense of time, of place. Cells soaked up her offering. Feeding earlier had not prevented this, meant nothing when he held her in his arms.

  His heart slammed into his ribs, harsh and heavy against his ears. He inhaled sharply when her fingers danced across sensitive skin, blazing a trail in her wake.

  He laved his tongue across her pulse, his last thread of sanity stretched to the breaking point. He claimed her mouth once more, pinning her body to his. He was sure he was going to burn to a cinder.

  “Diego,” she whimpered into his mouth. A gasp. A plea, and he forced sanity to return with a strength honed from years of control.

  Her cheeks were flushed, and her body hungered for his touch, for release, but she was overwhelmed. He pressed his forehead to hers, listening to her panting.

  Titania’s eyes widened, the blue bottomless, her fingers lifting to his mouth. Her mouth was kiss-swollen, ripe and delectable for more. He ripped his gaze from the temptation. “No more of that. I’ll melt. I swear I will.” Her hand retreated from inside his jacket, and he missed her heated caress instantly, ached to have her touch him again. His arms held her steady, gentle bands of strength. “No one should have a mouth like that.”

  “You like my mouth?” He felt oddly pleased that she would.

  She peered upward. “You just can’t keep doing that. I can’t think. Your kisses are lethal. No one should be able to do that.” She studied him, confused, aroused and uncertain.

  His hand slid from the heavy folds of her hair to rest against her pulse. It beat strongly, wildly into his palm. “I will try for restraint when I am with you.” It was the most he could promise. He was still craving her touch, desiring what he knew he should not want.

  “You do that. I mean it.” She stepped away, a feminine retreat for space. She lifted her hair up and off her skin, an innocent, sensual movement that made his blood a living thing in his veins. She had no idea how sensual a creature she was.

  For just a second, he could forgive David’s earlier thoughts. She was beautiful. Innocence shined from her, her eyes alight with her compassionate nature.

  He moved through her mind effortlessly with her concentration elsewhere and could feel thirst building. He had been greedy i
n his passions. He walked to the mini bar and reached for a bottled water. He removed the cap, then handed it to her. “Drink. Then take your shower.”

  Her eyes flashed blue fire. “Don’t start with the bossy stuff again,” she warned, but she took the water without a grain of refusal.

  He offered her a small, goading smile. “Please, take your shower so you can eat, or I will be in there myself with you.”

  She whirled and disappeared into the bathroom before he could start laughing at her.

  Diego was deliberately investigating the room to distract himself from the woman on the other side of the door when the bathroom door cracked an inch. He could not restrain the quiet laughter when her clothes zipped from the room followed by a slam of the door.

  * * * *

  Titania slumped under hot, pounding water. That man should be outlawed. His lips, his eyes. All of him. He just should be! How did one man kiss like that? She’d had a few passionate kisses, but nothing that had left her melted to the floor. It felt like an inferno had taken up residence within her.

  What she didn’t understand was why she didn’t feel threatened by him. Diego was the most overwhelming, overpowering, sexiest man she’d ever met, and she’d met plenty. Musicians, producers, songwriters. Even some of Hollywood’s biggest drawing names. She’d been singing professionally since the week after graduation, but no one had ever treated her so gently, so respectfully, so tenderly, or—she hated to think it—so passionately. She braced herself with a hand to the wall, a limp noodle.

  Swallowing, feeling the mist on her tongue, she was surprised at how thirsty she was, having downed half the bottle of water before she stepped into the shower. Searching beyond the curtain, she found the bottle on the counter and drained it. Maybe that was why she hadn’t been hungry. Maybe she was dehydrated.

  She tossed the bottle toward the trash when she was finished. “Two points,” she murmured with satisfaction when it sank into the can. She retracted the shower curtain, then began lathering her hair, thinking over what Diego had said—before that incredible kiss.

  He knew Brakka well, if what he’d told her was true. One thing she could almost swear to was Diego’s integrity. The man lived by his honor. She could only take his word that Brakka would search for her. Brakka had found her once already. There wasn’t any reason not to believe him, and Diego was right even if she hadn’t agreed openly with him when he’d mentioned it. Brakka was extremely powerful. That kind of power made her wonder again just what kind of a person Brakka was. His mind manipulation was staggering. She knew she couldn’t stop him.

  Her shoulders slumped further, admitting that. She couldn’t fire Diego. She needed him, but somehow she needed to keep her hands, and if possible her lips, away from him. She couldn’t think straight with him around. She couldn’t think, period, of anything but him most of the time. That right there, made no sense all to her.

  What was with her lately? She never got obsessed over a man. She lived her life, loved to sing to the crowds regardless of size. She didn’t have the time for a man now, anyway. After San Francisco, they were going to the east coast for the second leg of her tour. She had shows to do, obligations. Whatever this was couldn’t happen. She let out a tired sigh.

  The last thing she expected was the comforting warmth of arms holding her, cradling her. She said his name under her breath, and her heart somersaulted.

  “I knew you were getting tired. Come out and eat.”

  The husky growl of his voice was tender, caring, and she caved. Mostly. “Don’t go thinking I’m always going to comply, Diego.” But she twisted her hair to dry and wrapped a towel around her body.

  “I have no fear of that.” This was punctuated with a suffering sigh, and she smiled.

  She dressed, drying her hair, winding it into a knot on top of her head. When she entered the suite, Diego had removed his coat and draped it over a chair, and her heart flipped again. The man had shoulders. Fantastic shoulders.

  He stood partially facing away, but if she didn’t know any better, she would swear a ghost of a smile hovered over his chiseled lips.

  “You better not be in my head.”

  Silence was her answer. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  An eyebrow rose in quandary when he looked at her. “Something wrong?” His voice was sinful, and she was perfectly aware he knew it.

  “You’re a rat. A six-foot something rat.”

  “Six-six.”

  “Are you serious?” Her gaze roamed from the top of his head to his black leather boots. He liked black, and damn, he looked good in it, too.

  “I can shrink if you like,” he told her, an absolutely wicked taunt in answer.

  She backed off. “No. I don’t want to know.”

  He motioned toward the phone. “You better order soon. The kitchen closes in an hour.” She rolled her eyes. “Honey, do not fight me on something this small.” His gaze hardened to mercury. Flat. “You know if I really want you to, you cannot fight me.”

  “You admit you can control my thoughts? Control me?” She wasn’t sure if she should be terrified or shocked to actually hear him say it.

  “Why should I deny it? You already have experienced far more from being in my presence than any other person alive. I told you I could never lie to you. What would it serve? You must trust me, or I cannot keep you safe. It is as simple and as complicated as that.”

  She half turned, avoiding him now. “Have you been controlling my thoughts? Have you done it before?”

  There was absolute honesty in his tone. “I softened the memory of your attack. The night you risked your pretty little neck to stop Brakka, I helped to relieve you of nightmares. Beyond that, no.”

  She looked up and caught him watching her closely. “Diego, just what are you?”

  “Different.”

  “Are you even human?”

  He shrugged. “Mostly. Order your dinner.” And just like that, she knew he wouldn’t answer any more questions. She realized he was quite good at avoiding her questions altogether.

  After staring at the menu with nothing appealing to her, she ordered a salad and hoped she’d have an appetite when it arrived. “There,” she said, replacing the phone. “Satisfied?”

  “It is a start.”

  She stretched out on the bed, stuffing pillows to relax against, and he claimed one of the chairs. “You know, sometimes, I hear an accent. You make my name sound so exotic, something foreign.”

  He sprawled into the chair, threading his hands behind his head. His expression was one of mild surprised. “Really? I would think after all this time it would be long gone. I am from Spain. Andalusia originally.”

  She wiggled her toes. Spotting him chuckling at her, she stopped. “Did you live there long?”

  “Yes. I have been back and forth.”

  “Do you speak more than Spanish, then?”

  “Several languages.”

  “Really?” she asked with a touch of excitement. “Do you speak French?”

  “Fluently.” His grin was reawakening.

  “I used to talk in French around Houston just to drive him nuts. Now there’s an overbearing control freak.”

  His shoulders shook for a second. “Only because he has your interests to be responsible for.” His grin turned into a full-blown smirk, his pale eyes dancing in mischief. “After knowing you, I almost pity him.”

  She threw a pillow at him that he easily dodged. “Not funny.”

  White teeth flashed. “Yes it was. Hilarious.”

  She needed more than pillows to throw at him. Maybe a brick or two.

  “Not nice,” he chided her, swallowing his laughter.

  She glared at him. “Get. Out. Of. My. Head.” She crossed her arms.

  “Not on your life, cara.” A brisk knock a few minutes later brought him to his feet to answer the door.

  “Eat, honey. I know you need it.” And just like that, she wasn’t angry. That tone of voice undid her every time
. He was doing something to her that she just didn’t understand. She was melting even without his kiss.

  She turned up to him with a weak smile. “All right. I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.”

  She wrinkled her nose, staring at the bowl of greens. “Maybe I am getting sick.” She looked up with imploring eyes. “Diego, I don’t know if I can do this.” She pushed a fist against her stomach even as it substantiated the argument.

  He watched her closely for several seconds. “I think I saw a juice in the refrigerator.” He found one and offered it to her. “Sip this, then try the salad.”

  “Do you think I’m getting sick?” She sipped gingerly at the juice, grateful when it stayed down. With that in her stomach, she managed a few bites of the salad. She pushed it away before she managed a respectable dent.

  “I do not think so,” he said, distracted.

  When she looked up, he seemed lost in thought. “Diego. Don’t you want to go to bed? Tomorrow’s going to be a long night.”

  When he replied, his tone sounded absent. “You sleep. I will stay watch.” He gave her his full attention. “Titania, I meant what I said. I cannot be with you during the day, but Brakka cannot harm you then either. Just promise me you will stay with Houston until I am able.”

  “Why, Diego?” she asked cautiously. “Why can’t you be with me? Do you have a job? A wife? I don’t understand how you could drop everything, how you managed to get here before us.”

  His tight mouth softened. “I am not married, cara. As for the other, I control my life.” When she refused to let it drop, he asked her, “Are you sure you want to know, cara? Do you really want these answers tonight?” He hadn’t moved at all since she’d broken into his thoughts, but he exuded a strung tension. A strength of will that was beginning to overwhelm her. She hesitated.

  “No, Diego. If you don’t want to tell me, then it isn’t necessary tonight.” He nodded his head in answer. “But I want you to promise me you will tell me the truth. All of it.”