The Immortal Who Loved Me

by Lynsay Sands

  "Then you need to do two things for me," Sherry said firmly.

  "What's that?" he asked warily.

  "You need to get me a couple bags of one of those black market blood mixes, the blood of someone who has taken morphine maybe. And you need to get me in to see him right before the punishment, and I mean like right before."

  "Honey," Basil said on a sigh. "The nanos will remove the morphine from his system long before the punishment is done."

  "Maybe, but maybe not. If the nanos are busy healing him, they might leave the morphine until they're done," she pointed out, and when he paused to consider that, Sherry added, "And it's better than doing nothing."

  He peered at her silently for a moment, and then sighed and nodded. "Fine."

  "Really?" she asked with surprise.

  Basil nodded. "I love you, Sherry. And I don't want to see you unhappy or worried about your father's punishment, so if it will help you, I'll do it."

  "You really don't think it's going to work, do you?" she asked on a sigh.

  "I don't know," he admitted solemnly, and she believed him.

  Which meant it might work, Sherry thought hopefully, and then allowed her mind to move on to what was trying to crowd out worries for her father, "You said in the SUV and then again just now that you love me? Do you mean it?"

  "Yes," he said simply, his expression certain.

  "But we haven't known each other long, and--"

  "You didn't mean it then when you told me you love me?" Basil interrupted with concern.

  "Oh, yes," she assured him, slipping into his arms. "I realized that when Leo had me. You're perfect for me, Basil. You're a gentle soul with so much love to give. You're kind and have a great sense of humor. I've never smiled or laughed as much with anyone as I have with you, and . . ." She shrugged helplessly. "I'm happy with you. I don't feel anxious, or worried. I don't have to edit what I say or think for fear that you'll think less of me. I can be me and know that's enough."

  "It's more than enough," Basil assured her, and bent as if to kiss her, but she stopped him with a hand at his mouth.

  Arching one eyebrow, Sherry asked, "Aren't you going to tell me why you love me?"

  Straightening, he gave a nod, caught her hand and started across the yard.

  "Where are we going?" she asked with surprise.

  "Somewhere we can talk," Basil announced, breaking into a jog, and moments later he was hustling her through a set of French doors and into what looked like a cross between an office and a library.

  "Whose office is--?" Her question ended on a startled gasp as Basil suddenly tugged her into his arms and kissed her. Sherry hesitated, but then slid her arms around him and kissed him back, her body pressing eagerly against him.

  When he broke the kiss and nibbled his way to her ear to say, "Brains," she blinked and pulled back with shock.

  "Huh?"

  "I love your brain," he explained. "You wanted a list of things I love about you and that's one of them. I love the way you think."

  "Oh," she said with relief, "For a minute I thought we'd gone from Fright Night to Zombieland."

  "What?" he asked with bewilderment, apparently not understanding the association.

  "Never mind," she said, and smiled. "I like the way you think too."

  "Mmm." Basil pulled her closer and bent to kiss her neck. "I love your sense of humor as well. And you also make me laugh more than I ever have before."

  "That's nice," Sherry breathed, tipping her head back out of the way as his lips trailed down her throat and along the collar of the scooped necked T-shirt she'd donned that morning.

  "And I think you're kind too," he told her, tugging the neckline down so he could run his tongue along the top of her bra. "And forgiving. I like that about you too," he added, catching the lip of the bra cup and tugging it down to free her breast, "And I love your nipples," he mumbled even as he claimed one, sucking it between his teeth.

  Sherry groaned, and clutched at his head and one shoulder as he laved and suckled her.

  Releasing her breast, he lifted his head and added, "And I love your passion," as he slid a hand between her legs and cupped her through her jeans. He then caught her excited cry with his mouth as he kissed her again.

  Sherry sucked violently at his tongue and shifted against his hand as he applied pressure. Then she slid her own hand down to find him through his jeans and pressed firmly.

  "God, I love your ambition," Basil muttered, catching her behind the thighs and lifting her onto the end of the desk.

  "Basil," Sherry groaned, catching him by the hips and tugging him between her legs and up tight against her.

  "I love your hair too." He caught a handful of it and tugged her head back for another kiss, then tugged harder until her face was tipped upward and her neck was bare, and then nipped at her skin before adding, "I love your skin too. So soft, so round."

  Round? Sherry blinked her eyes open with confusion, but then he released her hair and his hands were both firmly cupping her breasts through her top. Oh, she thought.

  "I feel like I can be myself when I'm with you," he added, kneading her breasts.

  "Oh, yes," Sherry gasped, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him tighter against her. "I like it when you're yourself, especially when yourself in me. Maybe we could . . ." Reaching between them, she began to undo his pants, and Basil gave a breathless laugh.

  "God, I do love your brain," he muttered, but brushed her hand away and scooped her off the desk and into his arms.

  "What--?"

  "A bedroom," Basil explained, carrying her to the door. "This is Mortimer's office. He could come back here and . . ."

  "Oh," Sherry breathed, and leaned her head in the crook of his neck, then stuck her tongue out to lick him. She followed that up with a nip, and then began to suck lightly, one hand moving over his back and the other over his chest, and Basil growled.

  "What?" she asked innocently.

  "Tuck your breast back in your top and open the door," he ordered.

  "Mmmm," Sherry murmured, even as she did what he asked, first pulling her neckline up to cover her freed breast and then reaching to pull the door open. "I love it when you get all bossy and domineering."

  "As do I."

  Basil had started to walk, but stopped abruptly at that voice, and Sherry sighed, suspecting there would be no bedroom now as she recognized Lucian's voice. It seemed he and Mortimer were done speaking to her father, she thought as she noted the presence of the fair-haired man behind Lucian.

  "Thank you for having the sense not to start something in the office," Lucian said dryly. "I have walked in on quite enough couples in the middle of coitus lately, thank you."

  Sherry bit her lip at the word coitus. These brothers were just so darned cute with their antique terminology. Smiling crookedly, she commented, "You make it sound like a daily occurrence."

  Lucian gave a put upon sigh. "There are at least a dozen newly mated couples between here and Port Henry--"

  "Probably closer to twenty," Basil drawled with amusement.

  "Yes, you may be right," Lucian muttered, and then sighed and said, "The point is, it's like living with a kennel full of dogs when the bitches are in heat. The life mates can't keep their hands off each other. I have come upon them in the kitchen, the office, the living room, the bathroom, the vehicles, the cells, the yard, and even the coat closet."

  "The coat closet?" Basil asked with interest.

  "Do not even think about it," Lucian said grimly, and then stood aside for them to move past. "You two can use the bedroom Sherry had the last time you stayed here. Your grandfather will take the room Basil used."

  "Whose grandfather?" Sherry asked with confusion, glancing to Basil as he started forward.

  "Yours, Ms. Carne," Lucian said dryly. "I called Reg Marrone from the cells. Your father spoke to him and he is flying up to see him and meet you. He's bringing your grandmother and I believe one of your aunts."

  "To me
et me?" Sherry squeaked, turning from Lucian to Basil with alarm.

  "They will be here in the morning," Lucian said, his voice trailing them as Basil carried her up the stairs.

  "Basil," she began worriedly as he carried her into the bedroom she'd used on the first night she'd spent in this house. "Maybe we shouldn't--"

  "Morning is hours away," he said soothingly, letting her feet drop to the floor.

  "Yes, but we have to figure out what to say to them. I want my father's family to like me and accept you."

  "They are going to love you as much as I do," Basil assured her, pulling her top up and over her head when she automatically raised her arms. Unsnapping and unzipping her jeans next, he added, "And your grandfather and I are already friends. We go way back."

  "Yes, but--" Sherry paused to step out of her jeans when he knelt to remove them.

  "But what, honey?" he asked, tugging her panties down.

  "That was as a friend, not as a grandson-in-law," she pointed out.

  Basil straightened abruptly. "You want to marry me?"

  She blinked in surprise. "Well, of course. I'm not agreeing to be turned if we don't get married too."

  "You're agreeing to the turn?" he asked happily, and when she nodded, slipped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet to swing her around.

  "Put me down," Sherry protested on a laugh.

  Instead, Basil gave her a hard kiss and then promised, "You won't regret it. I swear, I'll make it my business every day to be sure you are the happiest woman in the world."

  "I already am," she assured him gently.

  Smiling, he let her slip to her feet, and started to bend to kiss her, but suddenly paused. "Wait a minute, what do you mean that's as a friend not a grandson-in-law? Why wouldn't he want me for a grandson-in-law?"

  Sherry wrinkled her nose. "He might be a little put off by the way you've been spreading your seed around all these centuries. I mean a man with fifty kids for his sweet granddaughter? It might be a concern."

  "It's not fifty kids, it's--" Basil cut himself off, his eyes narrowing when he noted the twinkle in her eyes. "You're teasing me."

  "I am," she agreed, and reached out to begin unbuttoning his shirt. "You did say you liked my sense of humor."

  "And I do," he assured her, reaching out to fondle her breasts. He let her remove the shirt, but when she dropped down to work on the snap of his jeans, he added, "But you'll still have to be punished."

  "What kind of punishment?" Sherry asked, peering up with a smile as she lowered his zipper.

  Basil groaned, his eyes turning pure silver and his semi erection becoming a full one in a heartbeat. Sherry glanced to the tent now poking through the open zipper and smiled, then gave a little gasp of surprise when he suddenly caught her under the arms and pulled her to her feet.

  Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close and suggested, "How about a lifetime with me. Will you marry me, Sherry?"

  "I thought we'd already agreed to that?" she asked with surprise, pulling back.

  "Yeah, but now I'm actually proposing. I wouldn't want our children to think you did it."

  Sherry chuckled and hugged him tightly. "God, I do love you, Basil Argeneau."

  "Thank God for that, soon-to-be Mrs. Argeneau," he muttered, and pushed her back onto the bed.

  Sherry landed with a gasp, and then raised her head to see that he was finishing what she'd started and removing the rest of his clothes. Watching him strip, she smiled and commented idly, "We should really get married quickly so you don't have to call me that too often."

  Basil paused after stepping out of his jeans. "Really? No long engagement and months of planning?"

  Sherry grinned and shook her head. "Vegas, baby."

  "God I do love your mind," Basil muttered, and crawled onto the bed with her.

  Keep reading for a peek into

  the Argeneau world . . .

  from the very beginning!

  All available from Avon Books

  A Quick Bite

  That hot guy tied to Lissianna Argeneau's bed? He's Gregory Hewitt, the doctor her mother hopes will help cure her phobia of blood . . . because that's an especially annoying quirk for a vampire. But is Greg the answer to her troubles, or will he be just a good meal?

  "Let's get this off you," she suggested as she worked at the bow around his neck.

  He sighed as it was removed, relaxing on the bed a bit, and Lissianna decided to discard his tie as well.

  "There, isn't that better?" she asked, sliding the silk cloth from around his neck.

  The man started to nod, then caught himself and scowled instead as she undid the top three buttons of his shirt. "It would be better still if you untied me."

  Lissianna smiled with amusement at the way he was struggling with himself, then tried to distract him by running her fingers lightly over the bit of chest she'd revealed. Much to her satisfaction, a shiver went through him as her long nails grazed gently across his naked skin. This education business was turning out to be easier than she'd feared.

  "Untie me." He was trying to be firm, but it was obvious his heart was no longer wholly behind the desire to be free.

  Smiling knowingly, Lissianna scraped her fingers lightly down to run along the cloth just above his belt. The provocative action sent his stomach muscles galloping and his breath came out on a little hiss of air.

  "What the hell," he breathed. "There are worse things than being a sex slave."

  Love Bites

  Etienne Argeneau's three hundred years of bachelorhood comes to an end when, to save the woman who saved him, he turns her into an immortal. But all Rachel had really wanted was just to get off the night shift in the morgue. Now this man says she's a vampire? At least the look in his bright silver eyes said they'd be spending a lot of time together.

  "Why you won't come to me?"

  Rachel glanced back at the corpse. He wasn't making much sense, but then who said hallucinations had to? She tried to reason with him. "Why would I come to you? You aren't real. You aren't even sitting up."

  "I'm not?"

  "No, I just think you are. In reality, you're still really lying there dead. I'm just imagining you sitting up and talking."

  "Hmm." He grinned suddenly. It was a nice grin. "How do you know?"

  "Because dead men don't sit up and talk," she explained patiently. "Please lie back down now. My head is starting to spin."

  "But what if I'm not dead?"

  Single White Vampire

  Editor Kate Leever was adamant that her newest vampire romance author Lucern Argeneau will attend a romance convention to meet his fans. Despite his reclusive nature, odd sleep schedule and avoidance of the sun, the handsome Luc was going to be recognized by the public. But soon Kate would learn that his novels were more biographies than bodice rippers, and it'd be her neck on the line.

  In a pale blue business suit, Kate C. Leever resembled a cool glass of ice water. The image was pleasing on this unseasonably warm September evening.

  The image shattered when the woman dragged her luggage up the porch steps, paused before him, offered him a bright cheerful smile that lifted her lips and sparkled in her eyes, then blurted, "Hi. I'm Kate Leever. I hope you got my letter. The mail was so slow, and you kept forgetting to send me your phone number, so I thought I'd come visit personally and talk to you about all the publicity possibilities that are opening up for us. I know you're not really interested in partaking of any of them, but I feel sure once I explain the benefits you'll reconsider."

  Lucern stared at her wide, smiling lips for one mesmerized moment; then he gave himself a shake. Reconsider? Was that what she wanted? Well, that was easy enough. He reconsidered. It was a quick task.

  "No." He closed the door.

  Tall, Dark + Hungry

  Terri had flown from England to help plan her cousin's wedding, but paying for a New York hotel room was like giving blood! She had an alternative: the new in-laws were offering lodging. O
f course, the Argeneaus were a certifiably odd family, but then there was Bastien, the tallest, darkest and hungriest of the bunch--and his effect on Terri was decidedly delicious.

  It was then Bastien had realized he'd forgotten the blood. He could not believe that he had been so remiss. He was an idiot! And that idiocy was about to see him ruin the day. He could not continue to walk around in this heat with the sun killing him.

  Perhaps it would help if he bought a big floppy hat and a long-sleeved shirt from one of the booths or something. Bastien grimaced. He might as well buy a clown nose and floppy shoes, too. This day wasn't going at all as he'd hoped.

  "Bastien?" Terri was suddenly at his side, concern on her face. "You look a bit . . . ill. Are you feeling all right?"

  "Yes, I-- It's just the heat and sun," he said finally. He wasn't surprised he looked sick. They had been outside for two hours, and he was really starting to feel it.

  "I think I could use a break," he admitted, and sighed inwardly at the concern on her face. Now she'd think he was some pitifully weak guy who couldn't handle a little walking.

  "If you like." She frowned. "You really aren't feeling well, are you?"

  "No, I just--" He sighed. "I forgot about the sun. I have a bit of an allergy to it."

  A Bite to Remember

  Once bitten, twice shy, and sexy PI Jackie Morrisey wasn't going there again. Vincent Argeneau may be the hottest guy she's ever met, living or dead, but she's here to stop a killer from turning this vampire into dust, not to jump into bed with him. Okay, so Vincent does look rather tempting shirtless. He's also charming, protective. Still, Jackie needs to be on her guard, lest this little fling be . . . a bite to remember.

  Vincent pulled the front door open.

  "Vincent Argeneau?" the woman asked.

  When he nodded, she stuck out her hand. "I'm Jackie Morrisey and this is Tiny McGraw. I believe Bastien called you about us?"

  Vincent stared at her hand but--rather than take it--pushed the door closed and lifted the phone back to his ear as he turned away. "Bastien, she's mortal!"

  "Did you just slam the door in Jackie's face?" Bastien asked with amazement. "I heard the slam, Vincent. Don't be so damned rude."

  "Hello!" he said impatiently. "She's mortal. Bad enough she's female, but I need someone who knows about our 'special situation' to deal with this problem. She--"