“Do you like football, Nathanial?”
“NFL? Bores me silly,” he told her. His body remained still. Silent.
“What do you like?”
“Sports are vague posturing of people who have forgotten why they do what they are doing. Did you know that most team sports were originally conducted to prepare men for war?” He shook his head. “I find them vapid and shallow.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess I asked for your true opinion.”
Nathanial smiled. “You did.”
“Very well. What do you like that isn’t sports? What gets you excited? Apart from sex?” she added hastily.
The gleam in his eyes told her the final proviso had been just in time. He considered for a moment. “There is no one thing that I consistently turn to. But there are many things that move me. I find them every day. You just have to be open to seeing them and they come to you.”
“I don’t understand,” Winter confessed.
“The modern philosophers and cultural psychologists of this day and age advise everyone that they should have a hobby that they’re passionate about, to give them an interest in life. That’s what you’re trying to ask me about now. Truth is, Winter, I ran out of time and patience for maintaining interests decades ago. Now, I just follow life. There’s always something new to learn and life always gives me something beautiful to appreciate. Something to get excited about.” He nodded towards the window. “Like your hair outlined by the sunset a moment ago. They were the perfect compliment.”
And she felt his heart shift just a little.
“Have you ever stopped to truly smell the bergamot in a pot of fresh Earl Grey tea, Winter?” he asked. “I’ve forgotten what it tastes like now, but the smell is divine.”
Blood stirred and flowed, pushed by his heart.
“I like studying the stars, because they’re older than me, and they make me feel very small, humble and insignificant. They haven’t changed in all the years I’ve looked up at them, despite the massive changes I’ve seen on Earth. I find that astonishing and comforting at the same time.”
Again, the small flutter of his heart beating.
“Every day there are small things. A kitten asleep in a plant pot. The sun rising over the snow and turning it pink. Hoar frosts still take my breath away with their beauty despite the hundreds I have seen. The kindness of the stranger who pays for the next person’s drinks at the coffee shop. The rudeness of tourists in Jasper during the summer season. The unconscious beauty of young people who don’t realize they have everything ahead of them and are enjoying their every moment now, just as they should.
“And then sometimes I am rewarded by meeting someone like you, Winter, who stirs me so strongly I am forced to hide my reactions with professional techniques.”
And his heart squeezed. Hard. It began to beat with a normal systolic pulse.
Nathanial sat with a perfectly expressionless face, though.
“Why?” she breathed.
“You already know part of that answer,” he said coolly, but his heart was telling her the coolness was a lie. “I have a weakness for redheads. Your fierce independence, your anger that masks the barely controlled passion calls to me like a siren’s song.”
And his heart leapt. She could feel all the physiological markers for a powerful arousal building in him, even though he didn’t move a single muscle.
“You are not what I expected, Winter Manon Kennedy,” Nathanial whispered.
It was such an exact echo of her own thoughts about him, that she jerked in surprise and looked more closely into his eyes, forgetting to monitor his responses. “Sebastian warned you about me?”
“Warned, no. But he spoke about you. You don’t fit his description. I don’t mean just the physical, either.” He frowned. “Sebastian usually sees people more clearly than that, too.” He lifted his other hand a fraction of an inch. “I confess it doesn’t help that you have Sebastian’s eyes, either.” He gave a small grimace. “As I am trying to be honest,” he added. He lifted the hand captured between hers. “So, do you think honesty is going to be possible between us, Winter?”
She let go of his hand. “Like you did with me, Nial, I have you keyed now. If I’m touching you, I’ll know if you’re lying.”
He smiled. “You called me Nial.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
The captain of the plane stepped through from the cockpit and announced they would be landing in twenty minutes. Time to buckle up.
Nathanial’s smile faded as he turned his chair and reached for the seat belt. “And how am I to know if you are lying? Winter?”
She thought about it as she arranged and fastened her own belt. “As long as you don’t lie, then I know it’s safe for me to tell the truth. As soon as you shift away from the truth, you’ll send me running. That’s as good as I can give you.”
He considered it for a moment. “Under the circumstances, thanks to your talent, it’s better than two liars could hope for. We’re both good at extemporizing. Let’s see where honesty takes us.”
Winter had never been able to define the relationship between Sebastian and her, but honesty had destroyed it, whatever it had been. Fear touched her as she realized how dangerous honesty was in her life.
The chairs were locked facing toward the front of the cabin, so when Nathanial picked up her hand she was startled.
“Relax,” he murmured. “And stop worrying. You asked for no lies, remember?”
She nodded.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. Astonishingly, it didn’t feel silly at all. It was arousing as hell. Especially when his tongue slipped between her fingers to stroke the sensitive flesh there gently.
She let out an unsteady breath.
“Everything will be fine,” he told her. “I am not Sebastian.”
Then she realized the secondary source of her fear. She had invited a vampire into her life, her arms…and possibly her heart. One that was at least a thousand years old.
The truth was, she was terrified underneath her arousal. Ripping off a Mosler safe with a thermic lance seemed…well, passé, in comparison.
Chapter Six
AS THE LEAR touched down in L.A., she wondered if it was the danger in Nathanial that she was chasing. She hadn’t worked a job for nearly a year and the most dangerous hiking to be had around Helena barely lifted her pulse. Winter had long ago acknowledged that she needed the rush of danger in her life, at least in small doses, to feel alive. It was a product of growing up amongst bombs and lawlessness.
Was she simply reaching for the most dangerous thing around right now?
And should she tell Nathanial that?
Winter glanced at him. He was watching her, his eyes hooded so that the blue irises gleamed with the last of the sunset. It was an altogether predatory stare, one that made her jump.
“What interesting thought just passed through that fertile mind of yours?” he murmured.
She drew a breath for courage. “I’m wondering if I’m drawn to you because you’re dangerous, not because of you as a person.” She gave a tiny shrug. “You should know that about me. It’s been a part of my life forever.”
The Lear came to a soft halt and the engines immediately wound down.
“Serbia, yes?” Nathanial murmured, unbuckling and standing up.
She nodded, pulling her own seatbelt undone.
The captain and co-pilot emerged from the cockpit and the co-pilot opened the cabin door. The LAX ground crew already had a portable stair trundled up to the jet.
“Give us a few minutes,” Nathanial told the captain.
“Certainly,” the captain said easily and tugged his co-pilot off the plane and down the stairs.
Nathanial turned to Winter. “You were maybe five when the war began?”
“Eight, when the official war began,” she said. “But there was fighting and bombs and violence long before then. And more fighting and bombs and violence lon
g after the official war was over, too. It was only a year or so before I left for America that I can truly remember a time when there wasn’t explosions or people being killed because of which side of a border they lived on. It just…petered out.”
Nathanial’s hand curled around her waist and drew her closer to him. It was a casual move, almost non-aggressive. A man offering comfort, or a hug, almost.
“And how many times would you have actually died if not for your talent?” he murmured, holding her firm as she flinched. That was why he had drawn her to him. “How many times, if not for your ability to manipulate your own biology and heal yourself, would you not have survived, Winter?”
The number was scalded into her brain in neon letters. “Seven,” she said stiffly. Not even Sebastian had thought to ask these questions of her.
“And which of those seven occasions was the one when your family died?” His voice was the gentlest she had ever heard.
But it still seemed to tear away a small piece inside her. Winter shook her head. “The second.” Hot tears pricked at her eyes and spilled down one cheek.
Nathanial kissed her wet cheek and she felt his tongue delicately sweep across her flesh and wipe up the tears.
“When I was ten—I think it would have been around ten or so,” he told her, his voice low, “My family’s…well, you would call it a farm. My family’s farm was raided by Lombards. I was captured and tied up and made to watch as they killed all the men too old for slavery in more and more creative ways while they drank all our wine and ate all our food. The women they saved for that night, for sex. The women that didn’t perform to their satisfaction were killed immediately. The others were killed after the warriors had used them. I and the other boys were used as the soldier wanted, too, then tied up and thrown across saddles and taken to the nearest slave markets, a week’s travel away, where we were sold for a profit. The Lombards considered it a good night’s work. I remembered the leader of the Lombards and thirty years later I tracked him down and spent a night reminding him of the terror he had ladled out one night on a lonely farm in the northern Italian mountains. I was a vampire by then, but still, I remembered him and returned the debt.”
Winter shivered. She knew what Nial meant by “returning the debt.” The leader of the Lombards would not have survived that night.
“Yes, I am very dangerous,” Nial told her, his thumb brushing over her still-damp cheek. “So are you. Survivors are by definition dangerous. You can be drawn to me because of the danger, Winter. It’s who I am. I’m drawn to you because you terrify me.”
She felt her eyes widen. “Why?”
“A beautiful, sexy woman who can tell when I lie to her, so that I am forced to tell the truth? You are the ultimate quandary for me.”
She gazed at him, astonished.
Nial laughed, his hand sliding down to cup her jaw. “I think I might like truth-telling after all. It has some compensations, including leaving your mouth invitingly open—”
He kissed her, his long body pressing up against hers. Winter let herself be kissed and slipped into his body with her senses, as his tongue thrust into her mouth. She moaned at the intimate invasion, loving it. Her body was primed and ready for his touch. She had been aching for another kiss since that first demonstration in her kitchen, hours before. This kiss was real…very real. She could feel Nial’s body ripening, stirring against her. He was as driven as she.
The realization unlocked Winter’s reserves. She thrust her hands into the thick black locks of his hair, holding his head still and gave as good as she got. Her body seemed to bloom with hot white fire. The need to be possessed at once, if not sooner, was like a siren call in her mind.
And Nial responded.
His body throbbed with life. He groaned as his hand clenched in her hair and the other slid inside the back of her jeans, to stroke the upper swell of her ass.
“Winter, be careful…” he murmured.
“No.”
“My canines. You’ve provoked me.”
She pulled her head away from his enough to look at him properly. “Let me see,” she demanded, for his lips were together.
He hesitated, then opened his mouth a little and lifted the upper lip. Ending slightly lower than the rest of his teeth were two very sharp-looking narrow pointed teeth that lay over the top of the rest. As she examined them, they retracted into his gums, high up, and disappeared.
“They don’t look like they do in the movies.”
“No, they don’t,” he said dryly. “We need them for tearing flesh, not siphoning blood. The movies need them to look dramatic, not realistic.”
She caught his face in her hands. “You’re embarrassed, Nial. Is this something that doesn’t happen to you normally?”
The furrow was between his brows again. He drew a breath. “No, it isn’t,” he said shortly. “I haven’t lost control like that for…” He gave a short laugh. “I can’t remember the last time. I was very young, put it that way.” He took another breath. “You must guard yourself when you kiss me and my canines are descended. They are designed precisely for tearing human flesh, Winter. And I would much rather kiss you than not.” He gave a small smile. “There are ways…”
She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him softly. “I think that is the most human I have seen you, Nial, and you are discussing something about your vampire nature. How ironic.” She lifted a hand toward the door of the cabin. “They won’t wait for us forever.”
He sighed. “And the Ningaloo police report will be waiting in the lounge for us, too.”
* * * * *
Winter had travelled first class and economy class over the years, depending on the roles and requirements of the jobs to hand or the expediency of the available tickets. Generally, she preferred first class for long haul flights simply because it was easier on the body, but she preferred economy for the quicker trips.
But Nial knew far better than her how to demand and enjoy luxury travel even in a strained economy. Once they passed through the security barriers and into the first class lounge, they never had to pick up their luggage again.
They checked in and went through customs formalities in the lounge, and while they were waiting for their flight, Winter showered and changed. She got to enjoy an evening meal at the complimentary buffet served in the lounge, afterwards, too.
As she sat down at the elegantly laid table to eat, Nial pulled up the chair next to her and sat down.
“You have news?” she asked, picking up her fork.
“A man fitting Sebastian’s description is in Ningaloo. Your memory served us well.” He kissed her temple, making her catch her breath. “But please eat. You must be hungry.”
“You don’t mind?”
He shook his head, his hand settling on her thigh. “I usually resent it, but you make eating look like such a sensual feast, last time I shifted the conversation to a demonstration of my seduction skills just so I could get my hands and mouth on you.”
From his hand on her thigh she could tell he wasn’t lying. His fingertips moved gently, stroking the flesh of her thigh below the hem of her skirt.
“Now you’ve made me self-conscious about eating,” she complained, as her body rippled under his touch.
“Good,” he said with a smile. He drew a lazy circle on her thigh with his forefinger. “Is this skirt for my benefit or do you always dress so formally for flying?”
Winter glanced down at the silk tights and pleated skirt. “I learned a long time ago that trousers are a huge mistake for long haul flights. And I refuse to wear gym pants that bunch up around the crotch and smell abominably after twelve hours. These clothes are wrinkle proof and climate adjustable. I can remove and add layers as I need to, and they look presentable no matter how long I wear them.”
“Then the tights cannot be tights…” Nial murmured, his fingers pausing in their circling.
“No,” she said with a smile. “They’re stockings, Nial.”
“Ah…”
he breathed. “Be still, my heart.” And contrariwise, his heart thudded heavily. His fingers crept higher towards the hem of her skirt.
“I really do need to eat,” she warned him, lifting another forkful of salad.
“I’ll behave. For now,” he promised, his fingers flirting with the hem of her skirt.
But the teasing flickering of his fingers was having an effect on her anyway. She tried to ignore the rising beat of need in her and finish her meal, but Nial’s silent appraisal and his stroking fingers made that impossible.
She put her fork down, her plate unfinished, defeated.
“Sip the wine,” he encouraged her. “Let me smell it.”
“You can lift the glass and sniff for yourself.”
“But I want to watch you do it. Then it’s not simply teasing.”
She lifted the glass of ruby red wine and inhaled the bouquet. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “It smells very good.” She tipped the glass and drank a mouthful and let it slide down her throat. “Gorgeous,” she declared as the full extent of the excellent wine registered on her tongue.
Nial kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and collecting the residue of the wine. She felt his pleasure and arousal mingle and it reinforced her own.
“Nial,” she breathed. “You are only teasing me. It will make the flight unbearable if you leave me in such a state.”
He leaned back just far enough to look at her. “Who said anything about leaving you this way?” His hand smoothed its way down her thigh to her knee. “Silk stockings with lace tops. You know how to travel in style, I’ll give you that. Now I’ll show you how to travel in luxury.” He gave a small smile. “As much luxury as is left in this day and age.”
They were called for their flight barely ten minutes later and Winter caught her first hint of what Nial meant by ‘luxury’. They were shown to adjoining suites on the top deck of the 747, by a hostess in the dun colored uniform and the bright white head scarf. She introduced herself as Hanifa and their personal assistant for the first leg of the flight to Hong Kong. Hanifa pulled aside the dividing wall between the suites, turning them into a single large suite, and explained all the controls for the digital and entertainment equipment. She glanced at her watch. “I understand that you arrived in Los Angeles from Montana, so it is past midnight by your personal time. I am guessing you will want to sleep very soon. Would you like some sort of night cap, and the seats arranged into beds?”
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