Master of Ecstasy

by Nina Bangs

  Blythe forgot about the servants as she turned back to the door. Okay, this was her room, so she'd just open her door and go in. When Darach had returned at dawn from whatever he did in the dark, and she would definitely not go there, she'd almost knocked him down as she rushed from the room to answer nature's call. No, not call. By dawn it had been a primal screech.

  When she finally returned, she told him to forget about protecting the whole room. If he wanted to protect his bed, that was fine, but she had to be able to get in and out of her room. He'd agreed. Too easily.

  Blythe had stayed away all day while he slept. She'd stayed away because… because she had lots of things to do. She'd checked on Ganymede a few times, but she'd learned squat. Then she'd had to fend off questions from Clara-the-vampire-obsessed.

  And finally, Textron had trapped her for hours while he tried to weasel every bit of information about her progress with Darach out of her. She had the right animal. He was a skinny five feet ten inches of human weaseliness. Was weaseliness a word? Who cared. It fit him. She'd hugged her secret knowledge about his underwear-modeling career to her chest. When he became too obnoxious to bear, and he would, she'd spring that on him.

  Okay, so now she'd just open her door and go into her room. Right. With a sigh, she sat down and propped her back against the closed door. Admit it, she was afraid to go into that room, and she hadn't a clue why.

  While she was busy beating herself over the head with her cowardice, Sparkle slunk up the stairs and plunked her ample white bottom next to Blythe..

  "So what's up?" Sparkle watched a small mouse scurry across the floor and crinkled her nose. "I don't know how cats do the mouse thing. Yeck."

  Blythe shrugged. "Nothing's up. I'm just… resting before I go inside." Weak. Really weak. "What brings you up here?"

  Sparkle shifted her gaze from the mouse. "Mede's going to be totally ticked in a few minutes, so I thought I'd get myself out of sight." Her eyes glittered with malicious glee.

  "What did you do?" Blythe almost felt sorry for Ganymede. She knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Sparkle's manipulation.

  "You know how I feel about sex. I mean, forget about the Big Bang theory of how the universe was formed. Sex expands the universe, and that's the truth." She widened her orange eyes to indicate her complete truthfulness.

  Blythe couldn't help it, she laughed. "Let's hear it. What did you do to Ganymede?" At least the little she-demon took Blythe's mind off what was waiting behind the closed door.

  Sparkle cast a cautious glance toward the stairs. "Tim and Ed have found sexual bliss with each other. Did you know that?" She didn't wait for a reply. "Since they're so happy, I just planted the tiny thought that they could share their joy by inviting Mede to join them in a threesome." She narrowed her cat eyes to evil slits. "Then I planted the same thought in Textron's and Sandy's minds. Oh, and I suggested that they not take no for an answer, because no matter what Mede says, he really does want to get naked with them."

  Blythe could only stare. What did you say to that? Now she had something new to worry about. How would she know if her thoughts were really her own? Fine, so that would be easy. If the thoughts involved depraved and kinky sex with Darach, they were Sparkle's. Blythe frowned. Or maybe not.

  "How will Ganymede know that it was your idea?" How will I know?

  "He'll know. He always knows. And you're probably wondering why I did it." Sparkle batted a small insect out of her way. "Mede has repressed all his evil feelings, and believe me, he had the evil-feelings market cornered. He's forgotten the joy of being bad. So I figure if I make him mad enough, he'll lose it and do something really wicked." Her gaze turned militant. "I want the old Mede back, and I always get what I want."

  A scary thought. Blythe opened her mouth to comment.

  "Enough of me. What about you? Why're you afraid to go into your room?" Avid interest glittered in Sparkle's eyes, and behind it, calculation.

  Uh-oh. "I'm not afraid."

  "Never lie to a liar." Humor had replaced the calculation in Sparkle's gaze. "Darach's a sexual powerhouse. That scares you. Right?"

  "I don't—"

  "Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of. A few delicious shivers can be a turn-on. Enjoy him. Just think about what he could do to a woman's body." Her voice lowered to a hypnotic purr. "All that sensual knowledge, all that muscular gleaming body at your disposal. Think about lying beneath him while he rubs that big hard cock between your breasts, then watching him slide down your body until he can put his hot mouth on—"

  "Okay, I've rested long enough." Blythe scrambled to her feet. "All rested up." She fumbled at the door.

  Sparkle cocked her head to study Blythe. "You know what your problem is, sister? You worry too much. You worry about your job, you worry about the weirdness of being attracted to a vampire, you worry about every damn thing except what's most important."

  "And that would be?" Blythe was getting just a little annoyed.

  "You should be worrying about the dried-up old prune you'll be in about twenty years who can only look back on what might have been." Her glare effectively stopped Blythe's rebuttal. "Oh, I know you won't be old physically, but emotionally you'll be a dust ball under the bed of life."

  "I won't—"

  "You will." Sparkle stood, then stretched. "You have a chance few women ever get. You could have sex with a sensual animal of immense power. No puny human male in your time could compete with what Darach can give you. Take him, use him, and hold on to the memories."

  "So it's all about sex?" There was something troublesome in that thought, something missing. Something beyond the obvious thought that she couldn't have sex with Darach without losing her shot at redemption with Ecstasy Inc.

  Sparkle blinked at her. "What else would you want with him?"

  Blythe sighed as she pushed open the door. "Sure. What more could I want?" As she closed the door behind her, she decided that Sparkle had served a purpose. Blythe was so anxious to get away from the cat that she hadn't thought twice about entering her room.

  She glanced across the room at the narrow window. Almost dark. She shifted her gaze to the hearth, where dying embers lit the room. Focusing her attention on the fireplace, she crossed the room, knelt down, then added some wood until the fire blazed brightly. Humming softly, she rose, lit the candles with the lighter Ganymede had given her, then wandered over to where her nightgown still lay across the chair where she'd flung it this morning. She'd been so frantic to escape the room before Darach went to bed that she'd left her things scattered everywhere.

  Darach. Blythe closed her eyes. Okay, time for a gut check. She'd have to look at that bed eventually. So what was the worst-case scenario? He could be in his vampire form, really… yuck. He could look, well, dead. Bottom line, she couldn't stand here with her eyes closed until he got up, so she'd just open them and look. Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, she opened her eyes.

  It was way worse than anything she'd imagined. This was why she'd been afraid to enter the room. Subconsciously, she must have known what awaited her.

  Naked. Darach sprawled across his obscenely sensual bed without even a token strip of cloth across his hips.

  He slowly lifted his lids to stare at her from those brilliant blue eyes. He smiled, a warm, sleepy smile that invited, tempted. "Ye need stare more quietly, lass. Your ogling woke me."

  Blythe forced herself to breathe more slowly. Hyperventilating wouldn't solve anything. "Cover yourself."

  Darach looked up at her through a fringe of thick dark lashes. "Make me." He stretched. Raising his arms above his head, he arched his back, a powerful animal with smooth skin flowing over taut muscles. A predator preparing for the night's hunt.

  Blythe tried to ignore the powerful-animal part and concentrate on controlling her thoughts. "You know I can't get near your bed." She'd already experienced the walking-into-a-wall sensation when trying to get past Darach's protective shield.

  He lifted t
he corners of his sensual mouth in a smile that taunted. "The protection is gone. Ye may come to me." He gripped his bottom lip between strong white teeth, and she knew he was trying to keep from laughing at her.

  She didn't care, because when he released his lip, the full wet sheen of it riveted her attention. What would he do if she moved to his bed, leaned over that incredible bare body, and slid her tongue across that tempting lip?

  Whoa. She was losing the battle, and she didn't for a moment doubt this was a battle. Think of something else besides his lip. Since she was already focused on his mouth, she simply shifted her attention to his teeth. Strong white teeth. She couldn't see any fangs. What happened when he was about to feed? His mouth must change to accommodate long, pointed canines. What did he look like? On the yuck scale, he'd probably be a ten.

  There, she felt more in control. "Do you always sleep naked?"

  "Aye. But usually I pull covers over my body." He pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned his back against the headboard. Absently he put his hand over his heart. "But I didna wish ye to spend overmuch time imagining the covers away when ye returned." He offered her the full force of his smile.

  The pure power of that smile rocked her. She countered with defensive thoughts. Think fangs. Long, ugly fangs. Fangs dripping with blood. Gross. Okay, she was in control again. "Why, Darach? What's your purpose?"

  He lifted an expressive brow. "I would seduce ye. 'Tis no secret." He demonstrated his seduction technique by sliding his hand over his flat, muscled stomach, then cupping himself. His sex was hardening.

  Do not look at his sexual organs. Easier said than done. "Am I wrong here? I could've sworn that you promised not to try to seduce me if I let you stay in this room."

  "Let me stay?" He shook his head, a clear admonition to tell the truth. "I think ye had no choice. And I promised only that I would not spend every waking hour trying to seduce ye." He glanced meaningfully at the pale light of the dying day visible through the arrow slit. "I have many waking moments left."

  Blythe refused to let him put her on the defensive. "And you think exposing your body is the only road to seduction?"

  "Aye." He looked puzzled, as though she should know that without having to ask. His puzzled look faded, to be replaced by a wicked grin. "Mayhap I could seduce ye with my mind, but I promised ye I wouldna." He shrugged, calling her attention to the total size and breadth of him.

  She had to get something straight right away. "So you think a woman would only come to your bed because she desired your body?"

  He nodded, his tangle of midnight-dark hair trailing a tantalizing pattern across those amazing shoulders. "What other reason would she have?" He seemed completely serious. "There have been a few who coveted my wealth, but most of the women I bed dinna know about that." He offered her a curious glance. "Would wealth tempt ye, lass?"

  She could only shake her head. The thought that this beautiful man believed his only value lay in his ability to give sexual pleasure blew her away. Saddened her. "Hasn't a woman ever come to you because she… cared for you?"

  He raked his fingers through his hair and glared his impatience with her line of questioning. "Your endless blather would shrivel a man's cock until he couldna find it."

  Blythe dared a quick peek. Nope, no danger of lost cocks in this room. "Don't you ever want to get to know a woman, become friends with her before the sex part?"

  Blythe decided she should have a giant red H branded on her forehead. H for hypocrite. Because, Lord-of-the-universe-forgive-her, she hadn't thought too much about anything except his body since she first saw him. Almost every second thought involved wrapping herself around his bare, muscled body like a greedy sex-glutton eager to suck him dry. Not literally, of course. She didn't think there was a woman alive who could dry up Darach MacKenzie's sexual well, but the attempt would definitely be a life-altering experience.

  "Why would I wish to know a woman before I shared her bed?" Evidently he had decided he'd used up his allotted number of waking moments earmarked for seduction, because he swung his legs to the floor, stood, then strode naked over to the hearth, where his shirt and plaid hung from a hook beside the fire. "If I were to know a woman, I might wish to stay with her. That would be foolish. She would grow old and die, and I would live on to mourn her. I am done with mourning wives and bairns in my life."

  "You're getting to know me, and I won't die. So what's the big deal?" Uh-oh. Open mouth, insert foot. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with friendship. It doesn't have to be undying love between two people."

  He paused with his back to her, frozen in the act of reaching for his clothes.

  And Blythe knew that if she lived to be as old as Darach this memory would remain clear and vivid in her mind always. His body, from broad shoulders down to rounded buttocks and muscular thighs, was an unbroken flow of smooth skin over hard muscle cast in golden highlights from the fire's glow. His sacs hung heavy between his parted thighs, and Blythe's gaze slid the length of his back and settled on their promise. He was every man desired by woman. Savage, beautiful, sensual. And she wanted him with every gasping cell in her body.

  The moment passed, and he turned with his clothing in his hand. He met her gaze, and she knew he recognized her hunger. His smile mocked her.

  " 'Tis about the body and the joy it can give. Nothing more." He walked back to his bed, sat, then began dressing.

  Blythe was speechless. How could she deny what he'd said when he'd caught her looking at him like he was a chocolate cream?

  "What do ye enjoy doing when ye're not making people happy?" He didn't look at her as he continued to dress.

  "What?" She blinked at him.

  "What foods do ye favor?" He still didn't glance at her.

  "Foods? Why do you want to know that?" He was bent over, putting on his footwear, and his long hair hid his expression.

  "Ye think a man should know a woman before joining with her." He sat up and met her gaze. "So if it will make ye more at ease in my bed, I will hear about your life." Once again, he put his hand over his heart.

  She narrowed her gaze on his hand and wondered about the unconscious gesture. Why did he keep doing it? Absently she touched the Ecstasy charm at her neck, and the cool metal refocused her attention on something she'd completely forgotten about since entering her room. The job. She was supposed to make him happy, and not in bed.

  "Tell me about your heart." Maybe she could surprise him into opening up to her the way he had about his wife. "I'll feel that I know you better if I understand why you do things." She scanned for emotions and found none, had come to expect none. The only time she'd been able to connect with his feelings was when he'd told her about Aesa and his unborn child. Other than that, she'd never gotten past his protective wall.

  Darach studied her intense expression and knew he had lost her to Ecstasy. He could simply walk from the room into the night without answering her, but mayhap telling her about his heart would make her feel more at ease with him. He could think of no reason why he should want her to feel more at ease with him other than his desire to bed her, but somehow that did not feel like the whole truth.

  "When I became vampire I lost many human characteristics. I found that even though I enjoyed my new powers, I missed many of the things that made me human."

  For the first time, he questioned why he should miss anything human. Because your humanness gave you a sense of belonging. How many centuries has it been since you felt that you belonged to anyone or anything? Pushing aside that disturbing thought, he continued with his explanation. "Over hundreds of years my power grew until I at last was able to regain the most treasured thing I had lost."

  "Your heart." Her voice was a soft murmur.

  Darach nodded. "Ye dinna know how much ye value a thing until it seems lost to ye." He turned his head from her to hide his embarrassment over what he would tell her next. "I still canna believe that my heart beats again, and I draw joy from feeling its pounding beneath my hand
."

  "How long have you had your heart back?" She sat down at his feet and curled her long legs beneath her. "And what do you want to get back next?"

  Darach almost forgot her question as she gazed up at him from those clear brown eyes. He allowed his gaze to slide over her long golden hair, but kept his fingers from following the same path. He would finish his tale, then leave this room before he broke his promise not to spend every waking moment trying to seduce her.

  "I have had my heart for almost a hundred years now. My power has continued to grow, and I will soon be able to reclaim another part of the human I once was." He felt a tug of anticipation just thinking about it.

  "What will you reclaim next, Darach?"

  In her need to know, she touched his bare leg with her fingers. He drew in a deep breath at the contact and tried to control his hunger for her body as well as the other, darker need that called to him.

  "I wish to see my reflection"—he held her gaze—"as vampire."

  He watched her throat move as she swallowed hard, and he clenched his fists, denying the overwhelming temptation of her smooth neck. "I have seen my likeness painted while I am as you see me now, but never in my vampire form."

  "Why not?" The question seemed dragged from her.

  Darach knew his smile exposed all that was predatory in him. He wanted her never to mistake what he really was, even though her knowing had no part in his plans for seduction: Why would he want to remind her of his true nature? He had survived for five hundred years because he always did what made sense, but this confession made no sense. "I have wiped clean the memories of most who have seen me. All others"—Look at me, Blythe. See me. Know me—"are dead."