by Elisa Adams
What upset him the most was how much he wanted her. He thought getting close to her, learning that she wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was, would be enough to turn him off. She wasn’t what he’d thought, but it didn’t help get her out of his head. There was something about her that drew him to her. He’d been angry with her when he’d taken her. Now he didn’t know what he was.
Why had he put her in his bedroom? There were so many other rooms in the house to keep her in. Her comfort should be nowhere near the front of his mind. She didn’t deserve the best suite in the house, but he couldn’t very well move her now. He’d made the mistake of taking her, and now he was going to have to deal with it.
He shook his head as he walked down the hall toward one of the spare bedrooms. He’d put her in his room because of one reason. The second he saw her in person, in jeans and a tee shirt instead of artificial leather and gallons of makeup, he knew he had to have her.
But he couldn’t.
After the way he’d abducted her, Amara would never agree to anything. She would also never understand the desire that coursed through his veins whenever he got within ten feet of her. She wouldn’t understand that, for some reason, he fed off the fear he sensed in her as much as the desire he’d seen in her eyes.
And it had been there. She would deny it, but he’d seen it. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and she wasn’t happy about it, either.
He wanted to possess her.
Shaking his head, he tried to get rid of this temporary madness. He found women attractive, but certainly not necessary in the grand scheme of things. They were temporary playthings, enjoyed briefly before he threw them away in favor of a younger, fresher model. They were most certainly not something to keep.
Ever.
He couldn’t keep the human woman, no matter how much his delusional mind thought it wanted to. She was not his to take, and she was not his to keep. She had her own life, one he knew nothing about, and she wouldn’t take kindly to being made into the permanent pet of a four hundred year old vampire.
He stopped outside his locked bedroom door, knowing the only thing that separated him from the temptation on the other side was the flimsy piece of wood and the even flimsier lock. It would keep her inside effectively, yet it would never keep him out if he lost control of himself and went to her.
He pressed his palm to the door, feeling the beat of her heart through the wood. Was it his imagination, or did her blood begin to beat a little faster in her veins?
He shook his head, chalking it all up to spending entirely too much time acting like a lunatic. She was probably sound asleep, giving no thoughts to him other than those of most painful revenge.
He left before he could no longer reign in the urge to go to her and ravish her like the animal he was. Right now, sleep was in order. He would figure out what to do with Amara after he got a few hours’ rest. He’d been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and it was time to recharge before he faced her again.
* * * * *
Amara sat on the edge of the bed, absently changing the channels on the small TV she’d found inside the armoire next to the bed. She didn’t have a watch and there were no clocks in the room, but she could see the light fading outside yet again. It had been an entire day, and her stomach was loudly protesting the prolonged absence of food.
She got up from the bed and pounded at the door. “Hello! I need food in here! Come on, Marco, even prisoners on death row get treated better than this.”
She hit the door as hard as she could until her fists went numb, but it was no use. She got the same response she’d been getting all day.
Nothing.
Here she was, getting ready to waste away, and Marco the Vampire was probably in bed getting his beauty sleep.
She’d stayed awake most of the night thinking about it. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d been kidnapped by what appeared to be a living, breathing vampire. Or at least she thought he lived and breathed, but she couldn’t be sure. Fictional ones didn’t, but when she’d been flush against his chest he’d felt very alive to her. Especially the part of him that responded to her wriggling.
That part had felt impressive, even through layers of fabric.
She raised her hands to pound on the door again, but they hit nothing. The door was open, and she was pounding the air. She looked up, right into Marco’s dark eyes. Eyes that looked sleepy, glazed, and more than a little bit annoyed.
“Oh, shit.” She backed up an involuntary step.
He pushed his way into the room and set a tray down on the bedside table. “Did I happen to mention that I’m a bear when I haven’t had enough sleep?”
She winced inwardly at his growling tone. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Next time I’ll just starve until you feel up to feeding me. I guess I’m not very well-versed in kidnap victim’s etiquette.”
He narrowed his eyes. “There’s some food. I’m going back to bed.”
A sudden panic hit her at the thought of him walking out and locking the door behind him. “Wait!”
He turned, his arms crossed over his chest. “What?”
She had no idea what she wanted to say to him, but as strange as it sounded, she didn’t want to be alone. She had so many questions to ask him. Hey, if he expected her to learn more about vampires, she had to do her research, didn't she?
“Don’t you need to eat?”
He gestured to the tray of food. “I don’t need to eat that.”
“But can you?”
He shrugged. “If I had any desire to, but after a few hundred years it all starts to taste the same.”
A few hundred? Oh, boy. “Um, do you always sleep all day?”
He nodded. “I do when I don’t have someone here trying to break down doors and crack my eardrums.”
She rolled her eyes. “Deal with it. I know you can go out in the sun, since you came to my house in the middle of the afternoon. Why do you sleep during the day if the sunlight doesn’t bother you?”
“It does bother me. I’m very sensitive to the sunlight, but it isn’t fatal unless I stay out too long. It’s much more comfortable to sleep during the day, and be awake when it’s dark.” He sighed and yawned. “Is there anything else you need, or can I go back to bed?”
“Look. I’ve been alone since last night in a strange house with nothing to do but watch fuzzy television shows on a set smaller than my laptop screen. You don’t even have cable. Forgive me for wanting a little normal conversation.”
And the more she found out about him, the easier it would be to figure out a way to get away from him. He was strong, she’d give him that, but no one was invincible.
“I am not capable of normal at six in the evening.”
“Humor me.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up half a sandwich from the tray. She wrinkled her nose as the pungent smell of peanut butter hit her. “Yuck.”
“Deal with it. It’s all I have in the house.”
She sighed and took a bite, swallowing it quickly so she didn’t have to taste it. She set the rest of the sandwich back down on the plate. One bite was plenty for now.
Marco stood in the doorway for a long time before he sighed and came into the room. To her disappointment, he closed and locked the door behind him, pocketing the key and locking them both in the room. “Just in case you get any ideas.” He flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes.
There had to be another way to get out of this. If she’d learned one thing in the endless parade of stepfathers her mother had subjected her to, it was how to take care of herself in the face of threatening men. Although Marco appeared far less threatening lying flat on his back across the bed with his eyes closed and his arms sprawled over his head.
Wondering if he was sleeping, she poked him lightly on the side. Big mistake. In one swift move he had her pinned to the mattress, his big body covering hers.
“Don’t ever do that!”
She whimpered at the feel of him over her. “Um,
sorry.”
He shook his head. “You still don’t know what you’re dealing with, lady.”
She licked her lips—a nervous habit, but apparently Marco took it to mean something else entirely. His eyes darkened impossibly and he crushed his mouth over hers.
He forced his tongue between her parted lips and she thought she was going to pass out right then. A kiss, especially with a man she didn’t even know, wasn’t supposed to be this good. She should push him away, tell him where to shove his presumptuous ideas.
Instead, she embarrassed herself by moaning into his mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time—maybe never, and she was damned well going to let herself enjoy it. She could worry later about the fact that he was a total nutcase who had kidnapped her.
Marco pushed a hand under her shirt, cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her bra. She arched her back, forcing more of her breast into his grasp. His breathing hitched when she ground her pelvis against his, and she smiled a little in satisfaction. She bit his lip, but didn’t realize the mistake until he pulled his mouth away.
“Doing that again would be a mistake, sweetheart.” His breath scorched her throat. She could feel the light scrape of his fangs against her flesh and she gulped. “I’m having a very difficult time controlling myself. That would put me right over the edge, so unless you want it rough I suggest you refrain from such contact.”
She drew a shaky breath. “What if I want it rough?”
Marco’s gaze met hers, searching and fiery at the same time. Finally he rolled off her and back on the mattress. “You don’t want rough, at least not my kind of rough.”
“You might be surprised.” What the hell was she talking about? He’d kidnapped her, and all she could think about was how much she wanted those sharp teeth to sink into her—
Damn it. Now she was the one losing her mind. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t want it rough. I don’t want it from you at all.”
He rolled onto his side and played with a lock of her hair. “Liar.”
He was right, of course. She was a liar. She wanted him, and she couldn’t do anything about it. The only thing that made her feel better was the impressively bulging fly of his pants, which indicated he was in the same situation. She nearly smiled at the thought, but the worried look in his eyes changed her mind. “What’s the matter?”
“You have a little blood here.” He swiped his hand across her mouth and his fingers came away tinged with blood.
She blinked and licked her lips, tasting the blood for herself. “Sorry. It’s not from me. I guess it’s yours. It must have happened when I bit your lip.”
He ran his hand across his mouth. “Must have.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He snapped his eyes open. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Probably nothing. Forget it. Just watch what you do around me, okay? I like pain.”
She rubbed her face hard with her hands, trying to hang onto that last, tiny thread of sanity before she ripped all his clothes off and rode him until they were both screaming with pleasure. Finally, sanity prevailed in the form of cleanliness. She could only imagine how terrible she looked right now. Why had he even wanted to touch her?
“You know, I really think I need to take a shower.”
He nodded, his expression both pained and relieved. “I suppose you’re going to need clean clothes, too.”
“Well, that would be nice.”
“Okay. I think I can handle this.” He walked to the door. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Chapter 6
“Wait a minute, you did what?” Ellie faced him, her hands on her hips. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Marco shrugged. “Nope.”
“Well, that’s it. I always knew there was something seriously wrong with you. Now I have the proof.” Ellie gestured to the bags she’d just dropped on the couch. “It’s not too late for me to take these back to the store. You could let her go, and I’ll give her a ride back to the city.”
“Don’t get any ideas.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s staying.”
Ellie shook her head in disbelief. “Amara Daniels is a public personality. Somebody’s bound to miss her. Honestly, Marco, you can’t just go around kidnapping people because you don’t like what they do for a job.”
“It’s not just that, Ell.” He sighed and paced the room. “You wouldn’t understand.”
She raised an eyebrow at that remark, obviously annoyed. “Oh, no?”
“Well, maybe a little.”
Ellie laughed, but she didn’t look altogether amused. “A little? I think I know you better than anyone.”
She had a point there. Not that he’d ever admit it to her. “Thanks for bringing the stuff, Ell. I owe you one.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to owe me a lot more by the time you come to your senses and stop trying to scare the poor woman? You’re going to let her go home soon, right?”
“Eventually. Just not now.” He sighed. “I just need to get this worked out. I’ve got to get her off my mind.”
“And you think holding her captive is going to achieve that?” Ellie stared at him intently. “What the hell is wrong with you? I know you can be a little impulsive at times, but you’re breaking the law.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. Why was he doing this? It had started out as lashing-out in anger, but it was turning into something more. A little more quickly and less smoothly than he would have liked.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Ell. Maybe I’m finally going crazy.”
She shook her head. “No. That happened a long time ago. Do I get to meet her?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Ellie glared at him, her blue eyes practically piercing a hole through him. It always freaked him out when she did that, but for the most part he was immune.
Just to be on the safe side, he looked away. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Obviously not as much as you are.”
“I can’t let you see her right now. Maybe later. Besides, she’s probably asleep by now, anyway.” He’d left Amara alone for hours again. He just didn’t know what to do with her. Taking out his revenge would be so much easier if he could be in the same room with her and not want to take her to bed.
Ellie stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. She cocked her head to the side, probably trying to read more into the situation than what was actually there. He shook his head. “Knock it off. I’m not going to hurt her.”
He knew it, and so did Ellie. She’d known him long enough to know he wasn’t capable of physically hurting a woman, at least not in a malicious way. Ellie was a friend. She didn’t need to know anything about his sex life.
That was the main reason he couldn’t keep Amara. Human women tended to get hurt with vampires. It wasn’t intentional; in highly physical or emotional situations control was an elusive thing.
Ellie pursed her lips and stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she sighed heavily. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
He laughed. “Of course I do.”
No. He didn’t. He’d made a stupid mistake, but he didn’t want to change it. He wanted Amara here, as crazy as this whole thing sounded.
“All right. I guess I should get back to my grandmother before she burns her house down again. Maybe one of these days you can help me convince her to move back to Massachusetts with me. Then I wouldn't have to make so many trips all the way out here.” Ellie walked to the door.
”Yeah, I could probably do that. Of course, I'd miss your visits.”
“You could always move back, too.”
“Nah. I really like California.” Liar. “I don't want to have to move back and deal with the snow.”
Ellie saw right through him.
“You just don't want to deal with my family trying to take care of you. I know they can get a little obnoxious, but they really do mean well.”
True. There was something about having four grown women fighting over who got to be your surrogate mother that had a guy looking for a place to hide.
“Thanks again for your help, Ellie.”
“You know I’d do anything for you. Well, almost.” She kissed his cheek. “You know, one of these days I might just collect on one of those favors you owe me. They just keep adding up.”
He did owe Ellie a lot. A few times over the years when he’d been hurt, she’d given him a place to stay and helped him recuperate. Not to mention the woman was a miracle worker with computers. She’d helped him with an identity change a time or two. He’d be glad to do anything she needed, just not right now. At the moment, he had his hands full with a strong-willed actress, and he didn’t know what to do about her.
Grabbing the shopping bags Ellie had brought, he made his way up to his bedroom where Amara was probably fuming by now. Hours ago, she’d told him she wanted to shower. It wasn’t his fault Ellie had taken forever to do the shopping he’d asked her to do.
The woman was lucky Ellie had even been in town. Most of the time she lived in New England, in the same tiny little coastal town where he’d met her years ago. She was only in California occasionally to visit her aging, slightly senile grandmother. If Ellie had been in Stone Harbor instead of California, he would have had a serious problem.
* * * * *
This was just wrong. She’d waited forever, and he still hadn’t returned with anything for her to wear. Well, she’d waited as long as she could, and she’d had it with feeling like a disgusting, unclean slime-ball. She’d just have to take a shower first, and wrap up in the sheets or something until he did what he promised.
She stepped into the adjoining bathroom and turned the water on as hot as she could without burning her skin. She stripped, tossing her dirty clothes into the corner of the room. He could pick them up later, assuming he ever decided to come back up here.