She relaxed a bit when Cole wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed gently, lending her silent support. Drawing a deep breath, she continued, “As I said, I was working late at the office. It’s a research facility. We’re investigating faster than light particles. It’s mostly boring mathematical stuff, squiggly lines on charts and tables full of numbers. Stuff like that. I don’t know what they mean. I’m not a scientist; I’m a computer geek. I keep the systems running. I was on call in case there was a problem. They were running some new thing or another and had to have someone to monitor the servers.” She shrugged. “I’ll admit I was reading a novel while the computers were sorting it all out. Night shift is boring. There’s not a lot for me to do unless something gets hosed. But there were no problems that night. Everything looked perfectly normal, just another late night at the office. Then there was some sort of an explosion and I was here.” With Cole, where I belong. But none of that was any of Wynn’s business.
Cole took up the thread and reiterated the basics of their plight again. She was grateful Cole refrained from telling Wynn everything. He didn’t mentioned his death or the fact that Wynn had ordered it. While he revealed that he’d made Falcon a vampire, he didn’t state that he’d done so expressly against Wynn’s order.
Sam felt that was a wise course. Wynn was very particular about his status as ruler of his territory and didn’t take well to disobedience. Sam hoped he’d be angry with Falcon for acting without his guidance and rein his daughter in.
But though he nodded, Wynn didn’t seem disposed to exert any sort of influence over anyone at the moment. As Cole finished his explanation of who Sam was and why Falcon was a danger to everyone, including Wynn, the golden vampire simply sat, seemingly lost in thought.
Sam leaned against Cole and tried to keep her eyes open. She was utterly exhausted, mentally and physically. She ached from the car wreck and had developed a headache half-way through Cole’s story. Her head felt heavy, and the disconnected from reality feeling was so strong it scared her.
Exhaustion made it more and more difficult for Sam to follow the conversation. She stifled a yawn and hoped they could leave soon. As ever, Cole read her mind. “We need rest, Wynn, and you need to consider your options.”
The older vampire nodded. “Yes. I need to think on all you’ve told me.”
If Sam hadn’t been so tired, she’d have laughed at the heavy portentousness Wynn managed to infuse into each word. As it was, his overly heavy tones and foreboding mien just increased her fatigue.
She was grateful for the support of Cole’s arm about her waist as they traversed the halls of Wynn’s opulent Mediterranean mansion. The staircase stretched up into forever, but they followed one of Wynn’s men up them.
Safe in the room they were given, Cole helped Sam though a quick shower, checking yet again that she wasn’t cut or injured from the car wreck. She sighed gratefully when she finally stretched out on the bed. She cuddled close to Cole and fell asleep immediately.
Chapter Twelve
Sam woke with Cole’s worry strong in her mind. He stood with an arm braced against the door. “What is it?”
“The door’s locked,” he said tensely. “And if I remember correctly, all the windows on this wing are barred.”
Sam slipped to the edge of the bed. The light gleaming around the edges of the heavy curtains showed that the sun was high. She peeped around the draperies and confirmed that he was correct. The window was barred. Cole came and sat down beside her and ran his hand through his thick, black hair. A single lock fell across his brow, rendering him absurdly young and vulnerable looking. It awakened every maternal and protective urge she possessed.
His fear clenched in her heart. She didn’t need to look far to discover why he was so stricken. He’d been kept in a room very like this in the days prior to his execution.
“I should never have brought you here,” he said. “I should have listened to you. If Wynn’s turned against me again....” He didn’t finish the sentence, though Sam knew he was reliving the heartbreak of the betrayal he’d felt at the hands of his family. “I should have listened to you.”
Sam smiled, though there was little amusing about their situation. “If you think you made me do anything, you aren’t the same man that’s been living in my head for the past month. You know I do as I please, Cole. I’ve never yet let any man—even you—order me around.”
He looked at her and arched one perfect eyebrow.
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “If I hadn’t wanted to go along with your plan, I wouldn’t be here. So stop the blame. It gives me a headache.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then burst into laughter. “I do love you, Samantha Bailey. If these last weeks have shown me anything, it is that I have a multitude of reasons to do so.” He kissed her tenderly, and for once there was no lust in the action.
Despite his laughter and her smiles, they couldn’t pretend that deep concern for their future wasn’t uppermost in both their minds. Plagued by worry, there was no way Sam could go back to sleep, though she lay back on the pillows. It hurt to move too quickly or in certain directions. She wasn’t getting up until it was forced on her.
Cole stretched out beside her and pulled her into his arms. It had been several hours since they’d made love or shared blood, and she could only feel the most intense of his emotions. But what he was feeling was so strong it bled through their weakened ties as easily as water from a severed pipe. Currently, he was dreadfully afraid, not so much for himself as he was for her. She really had no comfort to give him. There was no action that would change their imprisonment and no words that would make him feel better. Or were there?
As they lay in silence something occurred to Sam that she wanted to say. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Should I be frightened?” Cole quipped.
She ignored his teasing tone. “Did you ever decide where you want to go when we leave California?”
The frown that creased his smooth brow was rather adorable. Having him inside her head made it very difficult for Sam to confuse him much and she enjoyed the few times it occurred.
“We can go anywhere you’d like,” he said slowly. “I’ve said I really have no preference. Hong Kong, Paris, Rome, it’s all one to me.”
She nodded. “Okay, then. How about Mexico?” she offered. “That little town you like so much. It sounds good to me.”
They were still connected enough that she could feel his surprise. “Mexico?”
“Sure. Why not?” She shrugged. “It’s where you really want to go.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. He closed his eyes and pulled her close. “You don’t have to do that for me.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she answered. “But I want to.” She smiled into his incredulous face. “Besides, I speak decent Spanish even if I do have a border town accent. My French sucks, and the only Chinese or Italian I know is food related.”
Cole lay back on the pillows and laughed. “So until your French, Italian, and Mandarin improve, you’ve no interest in world travel?”
“Not a bit. Besides, there are crazy people out there who like to blow up things. They don’t have a whole lot of terrorists in Mexico,” she asserted. “Well, except down in the Yucatan.”
That set off more laughter from her handsome lover. When it finally settled, he turned so he faced her. The pure love and appreciation on his face warmed Sam’s soul. “You really are an extraordinary woman. You realize that, don’t you?”
Raised eyebrows were the only answer he received and he smiled gently. “Yes, if we both live through this, I believe I’d like nothing better than settling in Mexico with you.” He ran his fingertips along her cheek. “I believe nothing will make me happier.”
He eased close and brushed his lips across Sam’s. There was a light coating of blood on them. He’d nicked his lip, and it bled enough that his mind opened to her.
Gratitude. Love. Amazement.
Cole’s thoughts were all centered on Samantha. She had given him the option that Falcon had denied him. Though he knew she would follow wherever he led, it meant worlds that she would make the choice herself. Only Sam had cared enough to consider what would make him happy.
“You’re always here for me. You’re always beside me when I need you. I think you’re the only one who really cares. How can I mean so much to you?” He took the effort to say the words aloud.
She looked at him solemnly, considering his question carefully. “I’m not sure. You just do. No one ever said love was logical. Half the time I worry that you don’t even exist.” She shrugged again. “But it doesn’t matter. I love you anyway.”
He kissed her fingers, then her palm before pressing her hand to his cheek. “I would do anything for you. I love you.”
She knew he did. She could see it in his face. She could feel it pulsing through her. His love vibrated through every corner of her heart and mind. It showed in his every action. It glowed in his every word. More and more Cole quite simply existed only for her. Daily she felt that love surrounding and protecting her.
“No, you protect me.” Cole’s thoughts were clear. She sheltered him from the world in a way no one else could. She exerted freedom and control over her own actions while considering his well-being. And when it came, she was willing to stand as a buffer against any storm, however large or small that might arise. She brought him a peace and serenity that no other could match.
Now, she was willing to even do this, to set his longing above her own. He couldn’t find the words to express his thoughts and so let their bond carry it.
Feeling his cheek scratchy-smooth and warm beneath her fingers, that constantly suppressed longing she always felt surfaced. Without deliberate thought, without intent, she made the mistake of looking too deeply into the face of love. In an instant, she fell into his eyes and lost herself. Of its own volition, her hand gently slipped behind his head, fingers wrapped in his silky hair. She pulled him to her slowly until their lips touched again and suddenly nothing else mattered.
Conscious thought fled when he felt her lips pressed against his and their minds fell together. His heart called out for this and ruled his mind and body. This was why he lived. This was why he had found his way back from the grave. He had defeated Death to be with her. He pulled her tightly into his arms, never taking his lips from hers. He intended to never take his lips from hers again. He rolled a bit, covering her body with his own. Her lips opened beneath his and he deepened the kiss, tasting her, exploring her mouth, reveling when she explored his. He had not felt the touch of her this way since Falcon appeared in their doorway. His joy at the renewal of their bond pulsed through Sam. At times it had been nearly impossible for him to remember what his life had been like without the touch of her mind to his.
I don’t think I can remember it either, she thought to him.
She found the tiny wound on his lower lip, the mark of his fang, and sucked on it. She couldn’t imagine life without him as her lover. Kisses from another, however affectionate and loving, would never be the same.
Never, he agreed. They could never quench the thirst for you that parched my heart. For nearly a decade I stood beside a woman I loved and was denied this.
She smiled at him and told him he was talking like a romance hero again.
He smiled back and continued in that same vein. Now, like water flowing through the desert, life blooms in the wake of your lips.
Then for long minutes, he simply kissed her. Sam knew she’d never have enough. Each touch of his lips deepened her craving for more, a drug that her system would never purge. His need kept the fires of her desire constantly alive, banked and ready to flare up.
His desire for her simplest touch was monumental. The merest brush of her hand was worth more to him than the evening’s long attentions of any other woman. Her lips on his were worth the wealth of nations. He would trade any item in his possession for an hour of her time. Every kiss was bliss immeasurable.
Sam couldn’t resist the thoughts he sent to her, each more idealistic than the one before.
Petal-soft, she brushed her hands over his lower back. They slipped under his untucked shirt and rested warm and gentle on his skin. He moaned at the ecstasy of merely having her touch him. She gave the tiniest echo of that sound and tightened her embrace, holding him as though she would never open her arms again, as though she would hold him forever. His hands cradled her face, his fingers tangled in her hair, as their kiss became more frantic, his lips more demanding.
Her hands pressed more insistently against his back, holding him to her, pressing him closer. His lips moved to her chin, her cheeks, her eyelids. They moved to the white column of her throat and settled there, warm where they touched her skin. That warmth settled into her heart, spreading through her body until she smoldered for him. When, in the softest of voices he said, “I love you,” flame ignited and pure fire flowed through them both, burning away all hesitancy, all thoughts of anything but loving each other.
His hand moved down her neck and inside the collar of her shirt, opening it, his touch silken on her skin. Without cognizant thought, her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, opening the garment so she could touch him.
His hand slid effortlessly over her ribs, down her waist, across her stomach while his lips sought hers again.
“Samantha, I want you,” he whispered. “I want you more than I ever dreamed it was possible to want a woman.”
“Yes,” she panted, her breath warm against his lips. “Oh, God, I want you, too. I love you.”
He groaned and slipped his tongue into her willing mouth. He kissed her as deeply as he could, as deeply as the love that dwelled in his heart. There was no other thought in his mind save her. She was all he required. She was life and light and everything that made up his world. She was his reason for being.
His lips moved across her body as his hand freed her of any clothing that kept her from his touch. He wanted to know every inch of her. He wanted to worship all of her.
She helped him from his clothes and when he lay revealed, she felt faint from the sheer beauty of him. He lowered his head to her breast and she closed her eyes unable to look at all of him.
Her love was as great as his and inundated him in comfort and joy such as he’d never known. The taste of her skin, the feel of her gasping with desire for him, drove him mad, and his madness infected her. Sam could no longer think, only feel. Her fingers closed around him and he arched into her grasp, nearly overcome by so simple a touch.
“I need you,” he whispered against her skin. “I love you.” Once discovered, he couldn’t seem to stop saying what was in his heart. Though it burned across their mental link, he was possessed by the need to say the words aloud.
It inflamed Sam’s senses. His breath, drawn only so he could speak words of love, was cool against her fevered skin.
“I loved you from the minute I saw you. I’ll love you till I die. God willing, I’ll love you even after.”
His response to her words was a burst of pure desire so strong it wiped everything but thoughts of him from her mind. Falcon and Wynn no longer existed. Danger and death might wait for them just outside their locked door but they’d have what time they had left on their terms, not bound by Wynn’s rules or Falcon’s spite.
Her stomach was soft and yielding beneath his mouth. The taste of her inner thigh, softer still, the skin smooth as satin under his tongue, was as intoxicating as fine brandy. He could hear her heart pounding, setting the rhythm for his love. He could sense the blood flowing through her veins, more precious than ambrosia. To taste her, to claim her for all eternity as his, to bind her to him forever, would complete his existence. He would give himself over to her, become a part of her. “Be mine,” he pled. “Please be mine.”
She gently pulled him up her body, drawing their lips together once more. “Yours. I want to be yours,” she breathed. “I
’ve always wanted to be yours.”
He groaned in elation, kissing her with all the joy he felt. He licked down her throat, his fangs slowly lengthening, preparing to possess her. They scraped across her skin delicately and then as he plunged into her body, they sank into her flesh.
Sam arched up, caught in an ecstasy of sensation and passion. Minds joined, blood and seed exchanged, they crossed the boundary of desire and shattered into each other. Replete, they slid from the troubles of the world into a quiet state where there were soft words and gentle touches before the requirements of rest urged them into oblivion.
Long after the sun set, a loud knock on the locked door jarred them from contented sleep and the world, unheeded for a few precious hours, crashed in upon them.
Chapter Thirteen
The sight of Falcon standing beside Wynn destroyed what little hope Sam had. The smile on Falcon’s beautifully false face was enough to send dread rushing through the Texan. Cole’s hold on her hand tightened and she felt his fear as strongly as her own.
As they drew near, Wynn spoke. “Falcon arrived shortly after you retired. She brought me some very interesting reading material.” He held up a copy of The Vampire Encounters.
Sam’s heart contracted painfully. It had to be her copy; there was no other in this world. Falcon must have found it at the Hotel California and brought it to Wynn. Damn her! And damn Marie Desiree! If the reader weren’t on his side, that book made Cole look like the worst sort of villain. It portrayed him as conniving and rebellious, a man who seduced the youthful Falcon, turned her against Wynn’s orders, and sought to undermine Wynn’s authority. Worst of all, it showed Cole as a murderer who killed Wynn’s daughter.
“It seems you weren’t completely forthcoming last night,” Wynn continued. “It appears you left out a few choice bits.” His expression was glassy, the creases about his mouth hard and deeply carved.
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