Watching her face, he could tell she was close to coming but not there yet. He dropped his hand from her hip and found her mound. With his fingers, he parted her folds and located her clit. She gasped, moaned, and closed her eyes. Thumbing her clit, he worked the swollen nub. Her breath hitched and she leaned forward, her hands on his chest to brace her body.
Ivan felt the first contraction of her orgasm squeeze his shaft. She moaned as it shook her. Each of her contractions brought him closer, and he opened himself to all his feelings and emotions. They flooded in, building his orgasm until it exploded as he spilled into her, filling her hot core in powerful spurts with his seed.
His roar drowned out her moans as they rode a blended wave of ecstasy. At the last, she shuddered, released him from her inner grasp, slipped off, and lay down across his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, treasuring her touch. Her body’s perfume and the scent of her woman’s juices mixed with his semen intoxicated him, and he drifted on a haze of sated desire.
Annie rested her cheek against his chest as Ivan stroked her face with his fingertips. Asking the Elders for help might be tricky. They were dangerous. Possibly lethal. He’d made a point of staying out of their sight for a very long time. He’d learned long ago to not make any waves. Right now, all his instincts warned him away from them.
Better to let the assassins go.
Shit. That was no good. Eventually, they’d find him. And when they found him, they’d find Annie. When that happened, someone was going to die.
— • —
Following the man in black into the house, Fiona warned herself not to let her guard down. Not around this man. Especially not around him. He’d proven himself a skilled fighter, and she no longer had a sword. For a moment, she cursed herself for leaving it behind.
He held out his arm, and the lizard moved onto the branch of a large potted tree. Then he walked over to the wall, and with a sort of reverence, placed his sword and scabbard on its rack. From its size and look, she could tell the rack was expensive and custom-made.
She followed him into the kitchen. After pulling off his jacket, he slung it over the back of a chair. He opened the glass-fronted Sub-Zero refrigerator, pulled out a beer, and twisted off the cap.
“Want one?” He held it out.
“No, just something to eat.” She stood, arms folded, on the other side of the black granite counter and watched him. Now that they weren’t hacking and slashing their way around a dark crypt, she took a good look at him. Damn, he was handsome and tall. If he kissed her, would he bend down or lift her up? She shook those dangerous thoughts from her head.
“How about a couple of steaks? I’m always in the mood for meat after a good session.”
“Sure, steak is fine.”
He pulled out two steaks wrapped in butcher paper, opened them, and seasoned them with a little salt and cracked pepper. At the stove, he turned the dial, and the center grill caught fire. He slapped the steaks on. The aroma of the meat sizzling filled her nostrils, and her mouth watered. She must have been hungrier than she realized.
“The dishes are in that cabinet if you want to help,” he said over his shoulder.
Fiona rummaged through the cabinets. She found a set of pewter plates and took down two, selected two nice, white cloth napkins from one drawer, and knives and forks from another drawer of matching silverware. Carrying her finds, she went to the table just off the kitchen and laid everything out.
She looked around. The house was old from what she’d seen of it on the outside. However, on the inside it had all the modern conveniences. His furniture was good too. The dining table was an antique, if she wasn’t mistaken. The chairs surrounding the table were mismatched and upholstered in various shades of brown.
“So, you do this all the time?” Leaning against the counter, she checked out his ass.
“Fix dinner?” He turned to face her. He looked incredibly cute, trying to look innocent. She wasn’t fooled.
“No, kill vampires, smart-ass.”
“Yeah, it’s what I do.” Nic turned the steaks. “Rare, medium, or well?”
“Medium. All the time? Are there that many vampires around here?” She wasn’t sure if she believed him.
“No, not around here, but all over. I travel a lot.”
“This special interest group you work for…who are they?” She pulled out a bar stool and sat at the counter, a little more relaxed but still wary. Even if he was good-looking, she still needed to be on her guard. She’d learned early in her life that good-looking did not equal trustworthy.
“Can’t tell you. Big secret.” He smiled at her, tossed two potatoes into the microwave, and set the timer. “Besides, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He looked at her; the grin was gone.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Fiona sat up straight.
He gave a shrug of his large shoulders and took another sip of the beer. “Sure you don’t want one?” He motioned with the bottle.
“I don’t drink. Slows down my reflexes.”
“And numbs the senses,” he muttered.
She looked at his face; it had grown serious, his brows lowered and his full lips stretched thin. She wanted to ask why he needed to be numb, but the smell of the steaks was getting to her.
“They’re ready, I think.” She pointed.
“Right.” Nic turned back, stabbed the rib eyes with a grilling fork, and put them on a platter. The microwave dinged. He slipped his hand into an oven mitt, pulled the potatoes out, and carried them to the table.
She sat across from him, and they filled their plates.
“Don’t forget to leave me some, buddy.”
Fiona looked up from cutting her steak. “Did you hear that?” Her brows furrowed.
•
The fork stopped halfway to Nic’s mouth. His gaze darted to Cho sitting on a branch of the tree watching them.
“Hear what?” He put the steak in his mouth and chewed. No, couldn’t be. He was the only one that could hear that little pain in the ass.
“A voice, I think.” She sounded unsure.
Cho chuckled.
“Now it’s laughing,” She put her fork down on her plate and looked around the room. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean. Hey, I don’t even know your name.” He tried to divert her. “My name is Nic.”
“I’m Fiona. Fiona Meadows. Nic, is that short for Nicholas?” She picked up her fork and dipped into the baked potato.
“Tell her, I dare you.”
“No, it’s short for Nicodemus.” He watched for her reaction.
She looked interested and tilted her head. “That’s a Biblical name, isn’t it?”
“See, she didn’t even laugh.”
“Yeah, my folks were into old religions.” He looked down at his food. He really didn’t want to talk about his parents.
“What’s it mean?”
He stopped and looked at her. Wondered if she was the one who would understand and accept him, the one he’d told himself he’d never find, so don’t bother looking, boy.
“Warrior of the people.”
“And you are. Do you ever wonder if your parents knew?” She looked serious, not as if she was teasing him at all.
He swallowed the food in his mouth and took his time washing it down with the beer before he answered her.
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“Nic what?”
“Just Nic.” He cut her off. This was getting too close to home for him. He felt too relaxed, too at ease with this beautiful stranger.
“Cho, what if she can hear me?”
“Don’t worry, she only hears me.”
“How is that happening? You said I was the only one that could hear you.”
“You were. Till now. Till her.”
“Can she hear you now?”
“No, only when I want her to, just like you.”
“Well, just Nic, my steak was great! I’m reall
y tired. Do you have a guest room, or do I sleep on the couch?” Fiona put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. Her dark brown eyes waited for his answer. He felt himself sink into their depths.
“There’s a guest room with its own bath.” He pulled himself away, stood, and gathered the plates.
She rose. “You wash and I’ll dry?”
“How about you wash since I cooked?”
“You threw two raw pieces of meat on a grill and turned them over. I dry.” Fiona shifted her weight, jutted out one round, saucy hip, and put her hand on it.
“God, she makes me crazy! Does she have to control everything?”
“Reminds me of someone. But who could it be?”
“Shut up, Cho.”
He refused to concede defeat. “I’ll wash. You’re the guest.”
“Works for me.” She smirked at him.
— • —
“Ivan, I’m hungry.” Annie looked hesitant. Ivan wondered how Draco had been feeding her.
“Have you fed on fresh blood yet?” Meaning, of course, a live mortal.
She bit her lip. “No, just from Draco. He wouldn’t let me eat very often.” Her gaze avoided his.
“Yeah, it’s a control method for new converts. Keeps them weak and dependent on you.” He nodded.
“Did you use that with your slave?” She worried the hair on his chest and snuggled closer.
“Yes, but last night was going to be his first kill. Was Draco training you for it?”
“No.” She swallowed. “I wasn’t really anxious, you know.” She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “It’s only been a few months since he…” She seemed to search for a word.
“Converted you?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of ruined my life.” Her voice hardened as she set her jaw.
Ivan looked into her blue eyes. Anger and hurt were layered in them, and underneath it all, incredible sadness.
He wasn’t sure what to say. “Hard time adjusting?”
“Adjusting?” Her eyes burned. “I had plans for my life, Ivan. I would have graduated college next year. I had planned to go to med school, for God’s sake! You think I wanted this? That I’m happy about being this way? I hated Draco for doing this to me.” She stood and paced as Ivan watched her. “Just so that bastard could parade me around in front of you and the others, pass my body around like a toy, and look like he was the big, bad vamp.”
She turned and stared at him, eyes hard and hurt, her arms wrapped around her body as if she still needed to protect herself. “Don’t you remember how you felt?”
Ivan closed his eyes. Tried to remember but couldn’t.
“Not really. It’s been a very long time for me.” He shrugged.
Annie sat next to him on the bed.
“Who were you, Ivan, before?” Her blue gaze bored into his until he had to look away.
“Just a man. A soldier, a husband, a father.” He rubbed his eyes with his hand. God, he was tired.
“I wanted a family, Ivan. At least you had that for a while.” She touched his hand as it rested on the bed.
He tried to picture his family. In another life, he’d had a wife and two sons. Their faces were long-forgotten, along with their names. It had been easier to forget, to let it all just slip away, than to live an eternity with the pain.
“You’re going to have to learn how to feed, Annie. I may not be around…” Ivan didn’t want her dependent on him, did he?
“Do I have to kill?” Annie looked at her hands twisting together in her lap.
“No, but it’s going to be extremely hard for you to control yourself if you’ve not had much to eat. And the experience is very different from feeding on another vampire.” He shook his head, trying to explain it. “It takes you over, the bloodlust, the pounding of their heartbeats.”
“But I can try, can’t I? I can do it. I can have control.”
“Maybe. We’ll have to see.” He reached out and pulled her to him. “Feed from me a little to take the edge off. That way, you might be able to control it better.” If it would make her feel better, it was worth a try. Perhaps with practice she’d gain the kind of control it would take to stop.
“Your arm?” She touched his forearm with her fingertips.
He pulled her close and kissed her. “My neck, please, while we make love again.”
Lowering himself beside her, he bent his head to the side. She found his neck and the pulse that seemed to beat only for her.
She fed as they made love. At last, he pulled her off when she’d taken enough. He knew he’d have to eat soon, also. With all the sex they’d been having depleting his reserves of energy, he felt weaker than he had in a long time. Usually, he could last five days, a week if he had to, before he gave in to the uncontrollable urge to feast.
Ivan reached across and picked up the phone next to the bed.
“How about I order Italian? They have a new driver now.” He gave her a hungry grin.
“I wouldn’t mind a little Chinese.”
“Forget it. Their delivery guy is nearly ninety. Too old.” He made a face as he punched a button on the phone.
“Fine. Italian. As long as he doesn’t taste like garlic. I hate garlic.”
“Hello? Yes, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”
— • —
“This is your room, bath is that door. I’m down the hall.” Nic pointed to show Fiona the room as he stood in the hall. She opened the door and peered in.
“Great. Now, do you have something I can sleep in?” She tilted her head and looked up at him.
“Don’t want to sleep naked?” His lips curled up in a grin.
“I think I’ve had enough naked for tonight, Nic. A T-shirt will do just fine.” She flung her hand out and swatted his muscled stomach as she passed him.
“Yeah. One T-shirt coming right up.” He wanted her to touch him again, somewhere south of his stomach. Somewhere hard.
“Oh, and is there a spare toothbrush in the bathroom?” She sat on the edge of the bed. Damn, she looked so good. The urge to push her backward, pull the clothes off her, and bury himself deep inside her made his cock twitch. Whoa. Down, boy. She’s a self-proclaimed, dyed-in-the-wool, gen-u-wine virgin. Definitely off-limits. Against company policy.
“Should be, check the cabinets. I think you’ll find shampoo, soap, toothpaste, and a couple of new toothbrushes.” He leaned against the door frame to keep his distance.
“Bring a lot of virgins home?” She ran her hand over the quilt covering the bed. Was it his imagination playing games, or did she just invite him to sit next to her?
“Absolutely not.” He frowned. “The stuff is left over from when my brother, Zeke, was here a couple of months ago helping me to remodel the place.”
“You did a great job.” She looked around. “Zeke? Let me guess. Another Biblical name. For Ezekiel?”
“Right.” He stood there unwilling to say more, but it would be so easy to talk to her, tell her everything. She was dangerous.
“How about that T-shirt?”
“Right.” He hurried off to his room. Pulling open a drawer of his dresser, he sorted through the shirts trying to find one for her. Skipping all the shirts with beer logos on the front, he settled on his college football jersey and hurried back to her room.
“Try this.” He held it out to her. Fiona took the folded shirt from him. She opened it and held it against her body. It fell almost to her knees.
“This works. Alabama, huh? I didn’t picture you as a Southern boy.” She grinned at him as he stood in the door unable to take his eyes off her.
“But I am. Couldn’t you tell?” He revived the Southern drawl he’d worked hard to get rid of. “I thought my good manners gave me away.”
“Don’t you dare call me ma’am again.” She wagged her finger at him and he laughed.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You’d probably kick my butt.”
“Don’t doubt i
t, Nic.” Fiona smirked and tossed her head. She cleared her throat, folded her arms, and waited. “This is your cue to politely leave, like a good Southern gentleman,” she stage-whispered.
“Yes, ma’am.” His gaze held hers. Then it dropped to her lips. He wanted to press his mouth against hers. If she took just a step toward him, he’d sweep her up in his arms.
“Get out of here!” Fiona jerked her head and put her hands on her hips.
Nic held up his hands as if to ward her off. Backing out of the room, he fought the image of taking the fiery little brunette in his arms and making love to her while she wore his Crimson Tide jersey. His mind spun at the thought of his college fantasy coming true. Instead, he retreated down the hall to a safer distance.
•
Fiona looked up, but Nic had left. She frowned. Good going, Fiona, you’ve pushed yet another man away.
She sighed.
Well, what the hell did he expect her to do? Fall weeping into his arms? Throw herself at his feet? Twist her ankle or faint? She groaned as she walked to the door and closed it.
Get over it, Nic. I don’t need a man to rescue me.
She looked around the room. It seemed empty without his presence. Odd, being alone before had never really bothered her.
She had to stop doing this. Beth was right. At some point, she would have to give someone a chance.
Sure, when pigs fly.
Is this how she wanted to spend the rest of her life? Chasing men out of her bedroom and her life? She knew he’d been waiting for a sign from her. One look, a smile, and he would have taken her in his arms.
Fiona thought about the options. Casually giving her body to some smooth-talking, sword-swinging Southern boy definitely was not going to happen. She’d protected her virginity her whole life and had no plans on stopping. Letting go was something she’d never been good at, and that included giving her heart away. She’d made a vow, and from the last report she’d heard, hell still hadn’t frozen over.
Tonight, she’d fought to the death to protect herself and she’d survived, just like when she was younger.
Her mind turned to Nic. Oh shit. He should have been the hero, not her. Tonight, she’d snatched that from him. Those girls looked to her, not him, and she’d seen the dismay in his eyes too, just hadn’t recognized it.
Heart of a Warrior Page 5