He’d been neglectful of her today. One duty had led to another without a break, but now he’d reap the reward of a day well worked by spending the night with his sexy Elizabeth.
Varrick went down the hall and into their bedroom but found it empty. He shook his head. I don’t know why I actually thought she would follow my order to stay put. Wonder where she is.
He lifted his nose in the air and used his bestial sense of smell to track her scent. He followed it down the hallway to one of the entrances of the compound. When he realized it led out the opening, rage consumed him.
Varrick snatched the guard posted there by his neck and threw him on his ass. The male slid across the hall, coming to a stop when he crashed against the granite wall. In an instant, the male scampered to crouch on one knee. One forearm resting on his bent knee, he bowed his head over his arm kowtowing to his liege.
Varrick stalked toward the male. “I can smell her on you. Where is she?” he demanded looking stern and implacable.
“She went out,” the guard answered, keeping his head lowered in submission, his eyes on the floor.
“You mean, you let her go alone?”
“She is your queen. She insisted on going alone. It was not my place to deny her.”
Varrick paced the floor like a caged animal. “How long ago did she leave?”
The guard glanced up then quickly averted his gaze. “Sixteen, maybe seventeen—”
“Minutes?” Varrick asked hopefully.
“Hours,” the guard squeezed out.
“What!”
Varrick let out a foul curse. He’d been preoccupied, checking on the sick, taking care of his duties. But he’d never imagined Elizabeth would take off and leave the compound after the warning he’d given her.
Things between them were strained. Perhaps she’d run off. His ire grew. He had to find her.
Now!
Varrick stormed toward the entrance and pushed the button that triggered the mechanism to open the thick, granite door. Within two strides, he let the lion take him, shifting as he ran. The distinct sound of material splitting reached his ears when the clothes ripped from his body with the change. By the time he reached the icy ground, his muscle and sinew distorted into the form of a lion. A thick pelt covered his body, keeping the cold from his bones as he rushed toward his mate.
She’d been gone much too long. He didn’t doubt his ability to find her, especially in lion form. Varrick would find her, and when he did, she would never leave him again. The King would make sure of it. She might not have accepted him as her mate yet, but she would at some point.
Varrick ran hard, pushing his muscles faster as thoughts of Elizabeth urged him through the rugged terrain. Following her tracks in the snow, his smooth strides ate up the mountain side. Her familiar scent strengthened on the chilly air burning his nostrils.
The cold kept at bay by his impenetrable lion hide, he didn’t worry about the frigid weather nor did he worry about being seen. His only thoughts were of finding his mate.
He had been patient with her, understanding when she wanted some time alone. He had made her laugh. She had responded favorably to him in bed just a short time ago. Why then had she still not accepted they were mates?
It did not make sense.
Hot breath clouded before his eyes in the frosty mountain air, fogging his vision. He heard the pounding of her heart, the snapping of twigs under her feet, before he saw her. Varrick put on a burst of speed, bringing his mate into sight.
His exceptional vision easily made out her shape, her long blonde hair swishing from side to side, her lopsided gate concerning.
He bounded up behind her and placed his front paws atop her shoulders, then gingerly brought her down to the ground beneath his large body, careful not to hurt her with his enormous weight.
Elizabeth struggled weakly. Her limbs flailed when her body sank into the snow. As if playing dead, suddenly she ceased all movement, and Varrick’s lion pushed her further into the muddy ground when she relaxed under its weight.
Varrick withdrew his paw from her shoulder. She turned her head just enough for them to make eye contact while he straddled her with his body. The terror on her face pulled at his heart. In his rage, he’d been thoughtless. He was suddenly mindful of how scary it must be to have a large male lion standing over her.
Elizabeth gazed into the lion’s eyes, and a look of recognition crept over her rosy face.
“Varrick?” she whispered, fear strangling her voice.
He remained motionless, not wanting to scare her.
“Varrick, that’s you, isn’t it?” Elizabeth asked, her voice stronger, more confident.
She rolled over and raised a hand at a snail’s pace, as if waiting for confirmation the beast standing over her would refrain from hurting her. The reassurance came in the form of a smile. The lion’s mouth pulled back into a lopsided grin, and its tongue listed to one side.
Both arms inched up, and Elizabeth buried her shaking hands in his golden mane. He lowered his head so she could run her fingers over his ears and around his head, to cup his muzzle between her hands. Varrick purred his approval when she brought his face to hers and nuzzled his mane.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed, then pulled back and stared at him through hooded eyes. “And soft like rich creamy satin.”
A long pink tongue licked roughly from her chin to her forehead. The decadent flavor of her tasted like kettle corn, salty and sweet from the combination of perspiration and melted snow. Varrick licked his lips, he couldn’t help himself.
Varrick’s form shimmered, and the fur shrank back into the skin. The muscle and sinew reshaped. His ears shifted from the top of the head down to the sides. The muzzle shortened into a handsome face held in Elizabeth’s hands. Varrick noticed the shiver that went through her body, unsure whether the frigid air or his transformation caused it.
Experienced in frailties, Varrick realized at this temperature Elizabeth would succumb to hypothermia.
“It’s too cold to be out here for hours,” he admonished her.
“I’m fine. It’sss not cold. Might have made it. D-do you think I have hippo…hypo…hypothermsssia?” Elizabeth slurred.
“Possibly. It is freezing out here, Elizabeth. You might have caught a cold or worse, you might have died.” Varrick grabbed her by the arms and gave her a shake. Her head rolled on her shoulders.
“You might have died,” Varrick repeated, his voice softening with concern, as he held her to him. The perpetual five o’clock shadow on his jaw caught the stray wisps of her hair when he nuzzled his chin atop her head. Her body felt like ice against his bare chest. The body temperature of Demons was naturally a little warmer than humans, but the difference between their bodies startled him.
Her eyes appeared glassy as she looked through him instead of at him. The warning signs were all there: shivering, lack of coordination, difficulty thinking, slurred speech, lack of concern about one’s current situation. He needed to get her warm, quickly.
“Elizabeth, look at me.” He grabbed her chin roughly in his hand and turned her face up toward his, forcing her attention.
“I’m going to change back into my lion. You need to climb onto my back, Little Bits. Do you understand?”
Elizabeth tried to nod her head, but it appeared too heavy for her neck.
“Answer me. Do you understand?” Varrick’s voice brooked no dissension.
“Yessss,” she slurred weakly.
He helped her stand, propping her against a nearby tree. If the bark bit into her frozen back, she didn’t seem to notice. Holding her to the tree with one arm, he let his lion take him. Beginning with his legs, the transformation moved upward. His muscles contorted, fur pushed through his skin. The arm pinning Elizabeth was the last to alter.
This time she did not shudder at his transformation for she was unconscious. He removed his paw from her chest and quickly threw his body against her knees so her limp form flopped over his
strong back.
After letting his concern for his mate tear a roar from his throat, he ran as fast as he dared, careful not to dislodge his listless rider. Varrick headed for his home. Their home, he corrected. Concern for her safety spurred him on at a steady clip. He needed to get her back to his chamber. He needed to know she was safe and vowed to do whatever it took to see no harm would ever come to her again.
Chapter 15
Julie tossed her last pair of jeans into the growing pile of clothes strewn across the bed and blew out an exasperated sigh as her hands fisted on her hips.
“Well, that’s it, Penny. It’s official. That’s everything I brought with me. And I don’t have a single thing I can wear out tonight. Maybe I shouldn’t go at all.”
“No. No. No. You’re going on the date. Jules, you have to go.” Penny sat beside the mound of clothes. “Want to go into my room and see if I have something you can borrow?”
Julie blew a raspberry. “Oh please, like your clothes would fit me.”
“Oh, Julie. There has to be something you can wear.” Penny pulled a gray skirt from the pile. “What about this? I have a cute cardigan. It would go perfect. Look.”
Penny spread the wool skirt out flat on the bed and tucked Julie’s white blouse into the waist of the skirt.
“Watch this.” Penny sprinted into the adjoining room and returned carrying a pink sweater.
She fit the soft cardigan around the blouse and skirt, then stood back to admire her work. “That is spot on. Sheer perfection,” she remarked smugly.
“It’s not bad. This might just work,” agreed Juliette. A smile took her face as she met Penny’s gaze. “Good eye.”
“That ties it. You must go on the date now. We found the perfect outfit. It’s meant to be.” A grin widened across Penny’s face.
In unison, their heads whipped toward the sound of a knock at the door.
Juliette glanced at her watch and panic took her smile. “Oh my gosh! It’s already seven. It must be him!”
Penny padded across the room and peeked through the peep hole in the door. Against the door, she whispered, “You’re right. It’s him.”
Penny’s gaze remained on the peephole as if she couldn’t stop staring at the handsome man who stood on the other side.
Penny turned back toward her friend, a Cheshire cat grin lighting her face. “He’s posh in a dark gray suit and matching shirt. With that dark hair and those eyes, he’s the picture of sophistication. Oh, how I envy you. If I wasn’t married…” she mused wistfully, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.
“I’m going to tell Frank you said that,” joked Juliette.
Penny laughed.
“Somehow I don’t imagine Frank would care. He knows he’s got me stuck to him now that his baby is in my belly. Besides, a girl can look, can’t she? And luv,” she continued without taking a breath, “that is one man I’d never get tired of looking at.”
Juliette giggled. “Penny, what am I going to do? I’m not dressed.”
“I’ll go chat him up while you finish getting ready.” Penny opened the door just wide enough for her petite figure to fit through.
“Hi,” greeted Penny joyfully and pulled the door shut behind her.
Juliette stood before the full-length mirror. After donning the chosen outfit, she smoothed the gray wool skirt and sighed as she noted how the pink cashmere sweater bunched open around the buttons. Julie quickly undid the buttons so the sweater hung loosely about her trunk. It still hugged her body more than she would have liked, but it would have to do.
Scrutinizing the image in the mirror, she had to admit she had her mother’s body, and no matter how little she ate or how much she worked out, those curves stayed in place.
Of course, her father had never minded her mother’s curves. She envied their relationship. Julie missed having someone she could come home to, someone she knew would be there for her to lean on and confide in, to laugh with and love, even if that person, like Steve, didn’t appreciate her curves. Jules shook the thought from her mind and returned her attention to the moment at hand.
She pulled at the sweater hoping to stretch it so it might be a tad looser, then ran her fingers over her hair to smooth down the strays. There’s nothing more I can do. Here goes nothing, she thought and turned to leave.
****
“I am looking forward to spending some time with our Juliette. When do you think she will be ready?”
“Soon.” Her gaze roamed his full height, drinking him in.
When he flashed her a grin, she seemed off balance. “Shall we sit down while we wait for her?”
“Sounds like a grand idea.”
Penny hooked her arm into Nicholai’s proffered elbow, and the two found a place in the lobby where they could wait for Juliette’s appearance.
The pair remained deep in conversation. Nicholai seized on the opportunity to speak to Julie’s friend alone and peppered Penny with questions, trying to discern as much information about his heartmate’s past and present as possible.
“So you are telling me she is a widow?” Concern drew his lips down into a frown.
“Yes, and she had two daughters. An accident took all three of them.”
“That is tragic. I do not know how she can handle such unbearable pain.”
Jealousy over the fact she’d once loved another man warred with protectiveness of wanting to shield her from the pain she’d suffered at his loss. Intellectually, he realized he should not be jealous of her dead spouse. If anything, he should be glad she had been able to find love. However, his desire to protect her from anything that would cause her pain made it difficult for him to rejoice in the knowledge she’d once shared her life with another man.
“How old were the gir—”
The sight of Juliette descending the stairs interrupted Nicholai’s next question. A vision, her skirt and sweater clung to her in all the right places and showed off her feminine curves. The pink from her sweater brightened her complexion, giving her cheeks a healthy, rosy glow. The light from the sconces on the wall reflected in her shiny, chestnut hair to make highlights as it swayed with each step. She was the most beautiful woman Nicholai had ever seen in all his long years.
With fluidity only one of his kind possessed, he rose from the chair and sauntered toward the stairs, his eyes never leaving Juliette. He extended his hand and captured hers as she maneuvered the final three steps. Raising her hand to his lips, he planted a gentle kiss on the back of it when she reached the bottom of the staircase.
“Good evening,” he greeted, retaining possession of her hand.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” She glanced up, and his hazel eyes caught hers.
“For you, my dear Juliette, I would wait an eternity.” I basically have.
“Am I dressed okay?” Julie tugged on her sweater. “I wasn’t sure what I should wear.”
“You are perfect the way you are. You look beautiful, Juliette.” She trembled slightly at the sound of her name on his lips.
“So where are you going?” Penny asked, reminding Nicholai she remained in the room.
“I have made reservations for us.”
“At The Cold Shoulder?” Penny guessed.
“No. I want to introduce Juliette to some of the other fine establishments my country has to offer. It is a surprise. If that is okay with you, Juliette.” He gave her a teasing smirk, then took the coat draped over her arm.
As he helped her into the wrap, she replied, “Of course. That’s fine. I like surprises.”
“Then shall we go, my dear?” Nicholai offered Julie his arm.
“Absolutely,” she agreed, and wove her arm with his. Julie looked over her shoulder as they headed for the door. “Goodbye, Penny.”
“Have fun.” Penny waved, then muttered under her breath, “I know you will.”
While too low for Julie to hear, Nicholai’s preternatural hearing had no trouble discerning the comment. It brought a smile to
his face while he and Julie exited the door of the inn.
A blast of chilly, winter air hit them when they emerged into the night. The scent of fresh snow tickled his nose. A shiver went through Julie, and he tucked her under his shoulder. He wished he could transport her instantly to the warmth awaiting them in the restaurant he’d chosen. Unfortunately, while dematerializing might be easy for him, he knew of no vampire who could transport others. They had no choice except to make their way to the restaurant the old-fashioned way, in his car. But at least it would be a comfy ride.
After a short drive, Nicholai led her inside the fancy, old-world restaurant. They sat in soft chairs made of crushed blue velvet around a table covered by white linen. The centerpiece, a single candle floating in a clear round bowl, lit Juliette’s features and made her eyes sparkle.
Nicholai found himself with a grin as wide as a schoolboy’s. His hot gaze traveled down his heartmate’s body to the hand which lay on the round table. His desire to touch her, to caress the smoothness of her skin, seemed too fierce to rein in, so he placed his own large hand on top of hers. It gave him a sense of completion to feel her creamy softness beneath his fingers.
The warmth from the caress sent sparks of lightning up his arm, and Juliette must have experienced it too for her breath quickened its pace. Nicholai noticed the change, watched her bosom rise and fall with each breath. It was tantalizing, hypnotic. He could observe her body’s reaction to his touch all night but reluctantly pulled his gaze higher when he realized he stared at her chest.
Nicholai barely spared their server a glance as she came to the table and removed the empty bowls from the third course. He refused to take his eyes from his mate for more than a second. “How did you enjoy the silonka?”
Juliette’s gaze met his. “I loved it. You have good taste. Thank you for ordering it. I can’t wait to see what else you’ve chosen for tonight.”
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