“This was my bad, bringing Lulu without checking,” he said quietly. “I usually remember to do that when there’s a party.”
“Oh that’s just plain wrong. Don’t you dare be sorry,” she said, starting to laugh, and touched his hand again.
His dark brown eyebrows rode high above his sunglasses, and he started to smile again, finally. “I wasn’t. Not really,” he admitted, and she caught a much stronger whiff of his scent. The force of it made her eyes water; she had to splay a hand against the wooden deck because the aroma wafting off his Normal’s skin swamped her, totally. The blackness, the utter sightlessness of her dreams made sense now—she’d been seeing the world as he did.
She needed to know his name. More than she needed a next breath, or to spar with Mason Angel, or to look at another guest at that party, she had to know this man. From the outside to the very core of him, she wanted to know and touch and hold him. All of him. The dreams had done their job, quite effectively, as a matter of fact. But why had her mating dreams been of a human?
He shifted his hand beneath hers and only then did she realize that she’d never stopped touching him. Instead of pulling away, she actually took hold of his hand again, squeezing their fingers together. “I’m Katherine,” she said softly, wishing he weren’t wearing the sunglasses as she searched his face. “Katherine Rabineau.”
He smiled in earnest for the first time, his deep dimples coming into full view. “Kate for short, I bet, huh?”
“Mason told you.” She scowled up at her lifelong nemesis, who assumed a bored, nonchalant expression, taking a long swig of beer.
“He said you’re a stunner. A really beautiful woman.”
“He did?” she whispered.
He patted his dog, drawling, “There are some ways in which Lulu here falls short, you know. Situations where you need the eyes of your buddy to relay info on the local hot spots.” He lingered on those last two words, his full, luscious lips seeming to taste the insinuation. “But I like the idea of you giving me that kind of tour, not him.”
“Your scent…” She leaned a little closer to him, trying to drink his masculine, human aroma deep inside of her. “I know….” You. I know you.
Slowly he lifted his sunglasses, sliding them atop his head. “This is going to sound really strange,” he said after a moment, his focus on her, even as his eyes stared blankly ahead. But that fact, it didn’t matter. The life and fire she saw in their vivid blue depths made her tremble. “I mean…don’t take this the wrong way,” he amended, a soft twang in his voice. “But, I really—and I mean really, Kate—like how you smell.”
“You like my scent,” she repeated in disbelief and he nodded vigorously.
“Oh, hell yeah. Kate… God, woman. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. And I don’t need my goddamned eyes to realize that.”
CHAPTER THREE
It was the scent of heaven itself, a strange mix of arousing and intoxicating. Dillon felt dizzy suddenly, and maybe it was just one of his occasional problems because of the brain injury, but he didn’t think so. It was much more like he…fuck, swooned. This hot chick had him swooning, for God’s sake.
He blinked, and for a moment there was only the thump-thump of the music, the bass strong enough that he could feel a slight vibration beating through the deck. Chaka Khan’s I Feel For You wasn’t exactly cooling off his hotwired libido. It was putting ideas in his head.
“I don’t know your name,” she said, the words somehow managing to be thoroughly suggestive, lingering in the air like a promise. He’d have sworn he felt the heat of her breath brush against his cheek as she leaned closer.
“Dillon. Dillon Fox.”
She giggled lightly, a girlish, happy sound that made him smile. “Okay, so that means Fox has a dog that hates cats!” She laughed a little harder, squeezing his hand again. “Sweet!”
He leaned closer toward her, inhaling once again, and went hard as a stone inside his shorts, surreptitiously trying to adjust himself so that Kate wouldn’t notice. That was the kicker: she might be staring right at his groin for all he knew. He dragged Lulu closer, making her a doggie shield and prayed that his cock would calm the hell down.
Since when had the scent of any female gotten him lathered up like this? It was spooky, strange. But not unfamiliar, come to think of it. He’d dreamed about this girl’s distinctive aroma, starting months ago. A year ago, maybe. When he was in Bethesda Naval, going through rehab. This scent of hers was the first dark dream he’d ever had—one without images or sight. It had scared him at first, made him fear that his sighted dreams would soon be snuffed out. Until it became clear that, although the recurring dream was one of blindness, it was also one of hope. Desire. A future.
The supposed vampire beside him smelled like that future.
And that realization sent him tumbling back to reality. She was a vampire. So this smell thing had to be part of the deal, some voodoo type magic she could work, leaving him vulnerable. But Mason hadn’t said she was dangerous, not exactly…had he? This gig was all about ID’ing the suspect, confirming the Angel brothers’ suspicions. If Kate was dangerous, well, Mace would’ve said so.
Right?
Dillon was clearly in way over his head and sinking fast, his hard on pointing the way like the needle on a compass.
“Mason!” he barked, feeling a little stranded and panicky, which happened in crowds like this sometimes. Especially if it seemed you might be in a party full of freaky ass bloodsuckers. “Mace, where you at, dude?”
His friend’s firm, strong grip came down on his shoulder. “I’m right here, buddy. Chill. It’s all good.”
Kate’s hand moved to his upper arm, and she touched him gently. “Let’s go inside. It’s hot out here, and I’ll get you a beer and some chips and stuff.” Then her voice turned sharper. “While Mason Angel occupies himself out here.”
“Aw, come on, Kate. We’re ole friends now.” Mason laughed.
“I’ll choose not to comment on that claim,” Kate said, tugging on his hand as she stood. “I’ve gotta go change out of my sundress which is drenched in booze. Come on, Dillon.”
Dillon rose cautiously to his feet, gripping Lulu’s harness in his now-sweaty hand. Whatever was going on here, this effect Kate was having on him, it didn’t feel natural—and given that Lulu was distracted and he hadn’t learned the layout of the beach house, it wasn’t exactly easy to add anything else new or unusual to his world.
“Maybe I should take off for a while,” Mason volunteered in a breezy tone. “Come back later tonight after you and Kate have had your chips and beers, huh?”
Dillon scowled and mouthed the word, “Vampire” in Mason’s direction, making sure he was turned away from Kate. They’d concocted a plan for Mace to leave Dillon alone with Kate before Dillon had realized her freaky effect on him. She was turning out to be pure kryptonite, so it probably wasn’t genius thinking to leave him alone with a candy jar full of the stuff.
“Uh, Mace, you need to stick around, don’t you think?” Dillon urged.
“No,” Kate disagreed adamantly, “I don’t think. Take on off, Mason Angel. Be gone!”
Dillon shook his head, a little lightheaded. “Mace, bro, I don’t know my way around here….”
Yeah, it was crappy to play the blind card, but he did not need to be left alone with Kate Rabineau. Not yet, at least.
“I’ll take excellent care of you,” Kate said, touching his arm.
“Let me talk to Dill for a sec, Katie? Okay?” Mason said.
“I’m not Katie, at least not to you, but sure.”
Mason leaned close, whispering in Dillon’s ear. “You guys are already hooking up, so keep it going. No way is she mated, not with the way she’s responding to you. But we need to learn everything you can about the mating transition. When will she begin to feed? Will it be from humans? That’s what I need to know. What you gotta find out, man.”
And if Kate did drink from humans? That would mean that gorg
eous, sweet-smelling female was going to be toast. An added complication, the realization that his mission might end her life.
“It’s an easy first mission, really. Not too dangerous. Just important from an intel standpoint,” Mason explained and then took a step back, raising his voice so Kate could hear. “Can’t go too fast. You’re just getting started,” Mason said with enough cryptic meaning that Kate would think Mace was referring to her, not the Shades.
Discreetly, Dillon gave his old friend the one-fingered salute. “Buddy fucker,” Dillon grumbled under his breath.
“Nah, just your commanding officer,” Mace announced proudly. “Always and forever.”
“Somehow, though,” Dillon answered back, trying to hold his breath so as to not catch any more of Kate’s luscious aroma, “I think these are very different than the good ole days.”
“Welcome to my world.” Mason laughed languidly. “Call me later and I’ll come get you…if there is a later, that is. As opposed to a tomorrow morning.”
****
Dillon clutched Lulu’s harness, noting the thick pile carpet that sponged beneath his flip flops. Since losing his sight, he’d been surprised by how often he defined his environment by the ground or floor beneath his feet. Kate’s beach house had some sort of tiled floor all the way to the back hallway, and they’d obviously passed through the kitchen, the smell of spicy sauces and hot dogs and citronella wafting all in the air.
“Here,” Kate told him now, the sounds of the party receding down the hall behind them. “My room.” She started to take hold of his hand and then stopped herself. “Well that was just plain stupid. You’re supposed to hold onto me. I know that’s how it works. Duh!”
He smiled, laughing low. “You’re right. I would like to hold onto you.” And not to help me get around, either. Maybe she was a vampire, but for just that moment, he wanted to believe that she wasn’t evil or frightening. She didn’t make him feel threatened at all, apart from the strange sensation that he’d always known her, and the reality that he’d started dreaming about her a year ago. No, he definitely didn’t want to believe she was dangerous. She was, however, extremely feminine and insanely sexy. So being alone with her was already about far more than his stealth mission for the Shades. It was about the woman herself.
Besides, if he seduced her, that would only increase the likelihood of his gaining the key intel. So maybe it was a good plan to give into the attraction instead of fighting it. Besides he’d made a lifestyle out of flirting with danger, why not take that up a notch and into the bedroom?
“Do you need to take my arm?” she prompted him, ignoring his flirtatious comment.
He smiled in her direction. “Lulu will lead the way…for now. Later, well, we’ll discuss my needs. And yours.”
She stopped abruptly, spinning right into his chest. “Good golly Molly, you’re just absurdly confident.”
He caught a hand about her waist, pinning her against him. “What? You think a blind guy can’t find his way into a woman’s bedroom?”
“Uh, no. You’re already in my bedroom.”
“My point exactly.”
There was an awkward moment of silence then she asked, “I have a little settee. Can I show it to you?”
“Please,” he said, still holding her close. “But not until you tell me why you smell like this. Is it some expensive perfume? Lotion? What the hell is it? Cause it’s doing something crazy to me.”
Her hands slid about his hips and she pressed right up against him, trembling. “It’s not something I’m wearing, Dillon,” she said. “It’s just…me.”
****
Barely. Somehow. Amazingly, Kate managed to disengage her hands from about Dillon’s waist. She’d been about an inch away from leaning up and kissing him. Talk about a sneak attack. Geez, Louise, but that would’ve hit him out of nowhere.
Taking two steps back, she tried to regain her equilibrium. “Here. Have a seat,” she indicated, and he found the small sofa at the foot of her bed.
He flopped down and began petting his dog as she quickly searched the room. There were things on the floor, the sort he might trip over, and she rushed about scooping up discarded sandals, books and magazines, tossing them onto a corner chair. Her heart hammered out a frenzied pace. She’d never had a man in her room before—ever. She’d invited him back here as if it were an everyday occurrence, but now that he was sitting only a few feet from her bed, she found that her mating urges were hitting whole new levels. If she couldn’t rein in her reactions to him, what then? She might actually seduce him, and it wasn’t like he’d understand that she was in the throes of a vampiric mating frenzy.
How could she stop this crazy train now that it had left the station? If she wasn’t careful, she was going to wind up mating with Dillon by accident. And what then? Her family would shun her, Dillon would find out she was a vampire and that her kind existed outside of movies and novels. Failing all that, if Toby came back from the beach soon and discovered she had a Normal in her room, he might beat a blind war hero within an inch of his life. And that would be very bad indeed.
“I…need a drink,” she blurted. “I mean, I’ll go get us both drinks. Wine? You like wine? Or, no. You’re probably more of a beer or Tequila guy?”
He smiled up at her, his beautiful blue eyes unfocused, but lighter somehow, filled with amusement. “I make you nervous.”
“No. No, that’s not true. I’m good. It’s all good, really.”
Yeah, she’d just keep on whistling in the proverbial graveyard and ignore current events. A human male in her bedroom? If Toby and her father figured out what she’d done, they might send her to the Rectory until her mating time…or worse.
“You’re nervous,” he repeated, extending a hand. “Come here, Kate.”
She froze, and he patted the spot beside him. “Forget the wine and come sit with me.”
“Did somebody say wine?” came Sunny’s chipper voice, along with a chilled bottle of white and two glasses, as she leaned in through the door, extending both in her hands. She beamed at Kate conspiratorially. “I know how you like your Chardonnay, sugar.”
And your hot human men, Sunny mouthed after that, waggling her dark eyebrows.
Kate scowled. “Dillon, um…this is my best friend. Sunny Renfroe.”
“Oh, I’m not staying,” Sunny declared musically, with a glance over her shoulder. “But it’s nice to meet you all the same.”
And then damn it all, dear Sunny had the nerve to close the bedroom door, shutting them into the smallish room alone and unchaperoned, except for the watchful presence of one Seeing Eye dog. What hope did she have of keeping her virginity intact now? Her hormones were cranking up higher than an air conditioner in a summer heat wave. Only they were making her even hotter. Not chilling the mating fever at all.
After pouring them each a glass of wine, she decided music might be a welcome distraction and began sorting through a lopsided stack of CD’s as she turned on the player. Unfortunately, The Clash came booming out far too loudly. She hit stop immediately. “Train in Vain” wasn’t exactly mood music when you had a gorgeous Normal in your bedroom. Not that she’d know, apart from movies and such, because no man—vampire or human or otherwise—had ever entered her room, much less been with her behind a closed door.
“Why’d you turn that off?” he asked curiously. “I like to rock out. Clash, Stones, the Who, I’m not picky.”
“No Metallica?” She smiled, wishing he could see the teasing light in her eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’re a metal chick.” He snorted, pressing the wine glass against his lips.
“No, but when it comes to music I’m an equal opportunity offender.” She began searching through the CD’s again, looking for the perfect mood music.
“Which would explain the Chaka Khan and Jackson Five I heard out on the deck?”
“Yeah. And my Motorhead and Radiohead CD’s. And Portishead.” She laughed. “Way I look at it, if it’s got a
head, it’s bound to be good.”
“Well I certainly am,” he said coyly.
She clamped a hand over her mouth, realizing then and there that she’d absolutely embarrassed herself. What kind of virgin went around spouting those kinds of double entendres?
“And you know what they say,” he continued. “Two heads are better than one, so you can even choose—run your hands all through my hair…or try something much lower. Much, much lower.” He lifted a flirtatious eyebrow, leaning back into the large cushions on her sofa with a self-satisfied, devilish grin.
“I won’t touch that, not for a million dollars, Dillon Fox.”
“Too bad. Touching was exactly what I was hoping for. To let me see what you feel like, so to speak.”
“While stroking head A or head B? Those are my options?”
“Never said I wouldn’t be exploring the landscape myself, you know.”
He rubbed fingertips along a strong jaw that was dusted in stubble. Great, as if her hormones needed anymore bait, she’d just noticed that five o’clock shadow. Her chest actually constricted as she watched him touch his own face, and it was all she could do not to leap into his lap just as she’d been fantasizing about.
“Drink your wine,” she blurted, rubbing both cheeks in embarrassment. His dimples deepened as he smiled in her direction. His blue eyes had seemingly changed hue in here, away from the sun. A little hint of green in them, framed by sensually thick lashes that stood out when he slowly closed his eyes, seemingly not even realizing he was doing so.
She braced herself against the dresser, stealing a moment to truly look at Dillon. Maybe it wasn’t fair, staring at him when he didn’t even know it, but at least she was ogling out of intense, aroused fascination.
He laughed, husky and low, sipping from his wine and opened his eyes again. “So Metal Chick, tell me what you’re wearing.”
Red Blooded: The Gods of Midnight Series, Book 3.5 (Paranormal Romance) Page 3