Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  “This is a night rider, Colby, and he loves to run.”

  She took his arm, allowing him to swing her up in front of him. “Go fast, Rafael, I want to fly across the ground tonight.”

  His arms caged her in and he bent his body protectively over hers, whispering a command to the snorting animal. The horse took off, powerful muscles bunching as he leapt forward. After the first explosive burst of speed, the horse’s gait settled into a rhythmic gallop and they raced flat out across the open meadow. Snow hit their faces and the wind whistled past them. Clouds spun overhead and it should have been dark, but the snow made the world a bright, sparkling dream of a place.

  “This land is breathtaking,” Colby said. “Do you miss it?”

  “At first, all of us did, but we’ve been so long where we are that the rain forest and the heat and humidity are our home. This is beautiful and wonderful to visit, but it no longer feels like home to me.”

  Colby turned her face up to the night sky. Rafael loved the rain forest, but he would have given it up—given up living with his brothers on their ranch—had she wanted to stay in the United States. Though she hadn’t believed it when Rafael first claimed her, now, knowing his every thought, she realized just how much power she wielded when it came to her lifemate.

  He gave her total acceptance and unconditional love. She pressed back against him allowing the rhythm of the horse to soothe her.

  The animal knew his way, and twice leapt effortlessly over fallen logs and splashed through a small creek bed. He slowed when they were near the woods and hills, where she could see the ferns and shrubbery poking through several drifts of snow.

  The world was silent here. Only their breathing could be heard in the night. There was only the feel of Rafael’s arms around her and the crystal world with gently drifting snow—almost surreal.

  “It doesn’t seem possible that danger could be lurking so close, does it?” she whispered, afraid if she spoke too loud it would break the spell.

  “There is only the two of us, Colby.” He kissed the back of her neck. “Just us, alone in this world. Nothing evil and no shame, only a man who loves you above all else.” His arms tightened around her as if he could keep her safe from anything—even her own feelings of inadequacy.

  Colby fit her body more closely to his. Why did she feel inadequate? Was it what Paul had said? That most people just did? Or was it the fact that she’d never had a childhood? She suddenly sat up a little straighter. “Rafael. I’m like Josef.”

  He snorted, began to choke, sputter and cough all at the same time.

  Colby swung around to look at him over her shoulder. “No, I am. I never developed social skills at all. I worked all the time and I had to hide who and what I was. Don’t you see? I’m still doing it. I don’t want anyone to know about Razvan, so I hide away, feeling ashamed. I don’t have to go out and meet all these people—people you know and grew up with. People I’m afraid might wonder why someone as talented and gifted as you would choose to be with someone like me. I’m a teenager, struggling to find myself. That is just plain pitiful.”

  “I think this is all a conspiracy to make me feel more guilt because I tried to scare that boy. I’m not apologizing to him. He shouldn’t have been ogling Ginny.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t ogle her. He wants to be friends.”

  “Men never want to be friends, Colby.” His hands slid under the coat to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples as the horse circled back toward the house. “Our minds are too preoccupied with other much more pleasant things than friendship.”

  “You mean your mind is,” Colby answered. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his hands caressing her body. Both of them were highly sexual, and Rafael rarely went too long without sliding his hands possessively over her body. He couldn’t walk past her without his palm cupping her bottom, or brushing her breast. Sometimes, she leaned against him and rubbed enticingly like a cat, loving the feeling of his body growing rock hard and knowing it was all for her. Like now.

  The motion of the horse created a wonderful friction with her wedged between his open legs. Her gaze met his, and instantly she felt a thrill run down her spine. He was looking at her with that urgent hunger, so intense, so in need, everything in her body reached out in response. She tilted her head so she could nibble at his chin, further provoking him.

  For a woman who had done nothing her entire life but be responsible, it was wonderful to have no inhibitions, to be able to just be what ever she wanted when she was with Rafael. She reached behind her and deliberately stroked the hard bulge forming in the front of his trousers.

  Maybe she wasn’t so sure of herself with others, but that wasn’t the case when she was in her own home. Rafael was an extremely dominant man, yet she could stand up to him and knew always that he loved and desired her. She had Ginny and Paul and they both loved her for who she was. Maybe it was time to stop hiding from herself. She was no longer afraid of her own power. She knew what she wanted and she knew she was strong enough and determined enough to go after it. Razvan may have fallen a long way from grace, but he had passed on a legacy of gifts she couldn’t deny. And so had her mother. She had to give Paul and Ginny the opportunity to embrace those gifts—not run from them.

  “You’ll do the right thing,” Rafael murmured against her ear. “You always find the right answer for them. Jaguar traits are not all bad, and you want them to love that part of themselves. They may have great gifts and we can help them develop them, and if there are things that are difficult to deal with—well—we both know about them too. We can guide them together, Colby.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Of course you have. You knew I needed to work this out to do the right thing for the kids and in order to do that, I had to believe in myself.”

  “I took you for a ride on a horse.”

  “You gave me a dream.”

  He was silent for a moment, urging the horse back toward the house, listening to the sounds of the hooves crunching the snow. “So this other boy. This Josef. Tell me about him.”

  Colby hid her smile. Rafael liked to be such a tough guy, but deep inside he was a marshmallow.

  He leaned forward. I caught that thought. I am going to make you pay for that.

  Excitement zinged through her body and heated her bloodstream. I always so enjoy your little punishments. She turned her head to lift her mouth to his. It was more than awkward kissing on a horse, but they managed it, and as always, liquid fire poured through her veins and love seemed to flood her mind to the point of spilling over.

  “Josef is Byron’s nephew. He seems young for his age. I think he’s barely out of his teens.”

  “That is a babe by our standards,” Rafael pointed out, his fingers anchoring in her hair. “Where did Paul and Ginny meet him?”

  “Online. They all correspond. Skyler, Paul, Ginny, Josh and Josef. Some of the adults play video games online with them. But they’ve all become great friends. They were very much looking forward to meeting in person. I think Josef has a difficult time because he is a little older in age, but not maturity, yet everyone expects it of him.”

  Rafael sighed. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try to get to know the boy.”

  “You really are a marshmallow,” she teased, knowing he would retaliate. Wanting him to. Anticipating it. Her body was suddenly pulsing with energy—with need. Rafael exuded sex, his mouth sinfully sensual, his good looks wickedly masculine. She loved the way he wore his clothes, his hard stomach flat and his hips and the columns of his thighs encased in denim. His eyes were heavy-lidded and black as night, holding a seduction all their own.

  Immediately, she felt overheated and sensitive, her body flooding with urgent need. His hand cupped her neck, drew her head back so his mouth could claim hers. She sat in the cradle of his hips, his erection pressed tightly against her buttocks, his arm over her breasts and his mouth rou
gh, his tongue a velvet rasp of excitement, stroking and teasing, licking at her skin, teeth nibbling gently.

  Just like that her body responded, heat spreading like liquid gold through her veins. She wanted him so bad she could taste it.

  I want you too. But you deserve to suffer a little bit.

  Beneath the fur-lined coat, her clothes were gone, leaving her body exposed and vulnerable to his wandering hands. He slipped his hands inside the coat, guiding the horse with his legs. His palm slid along her thigh, and her breath hitched in her throat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What ever I want.” His voice had turned husky, almost hoarse, and the heat from his fingers was in direct contrast to the chill in the air.

  Her blood heated instantly, her core pulsing with excitement. His fingers began a slow, almost lazy circle, occasionally brushing her most sensitive spot. A low moan escaped. The fur slid along her skin, sensitizing her nerve endings even more. He kissed her again, lifted his head, but held her face toward his with one hand while the other moved over her damp curls.

  “Look at me, querida. Keep looking at me,” he commanded.

  She always loved that about him. He wanted her to know who possessed her—who loved her—who drove her out of her mind with plea sure. And she loved to look at him, to see his fierce hunger, his stark desire for her, the lines of lust etched deep, the burn in his eyes as he took her.

  His finger sank deep, drew out creamy honey. “I love how you get so wet for me. You’re always so tight and hot and wet.” He licked his finger with a slow seductive stroke of his tongue, never taking his gaze from hers, and returned to burrow his fingers deeper in her feminine channel.

  The horse stopped moving, simply remaining still while Rafael pushed his fingers deeper, filling her so that she gasped with plea sure. He stroked her over and over, teasing the tight folds, caressing the inner knot of nerve endings until she was gasping, crying out for release, but then the wicked fingers retreated. He caught her in his arms and slid off the horse. Setting her feet on the ground, his arm locking her to him, he talked softly to the animal and then sent it on its way. They watched the horse gallop back up toward the hills.

  Colby blinked and looked around her, still dazed and still pulsing with a terrible hunger. She wanted him so much, she was afraid she couldn’t take a step. Rafael simply swept her into his arms and moved with the blurring speed of his kind through the house to their underground chamber.

  Heart pounding when he set her free, Colby looked around at the room designed not only for sleeping, but for playing. She stood in the middle of the room dressed only in the coat, the edges gaping open to reveal her full breasts and the red curls at the junction of her legs. She was so damp, so hot. So in need. She could barely breathe with her need.

  “Come here, pequeña. I have waited too long for your body.” He held out his hand to her.

  She always felt so mesmerized by him, so willing to do what ever he asked of her. She loved the feel of his hands on her far too much. “I think I’m obsessed with you.” She put her hand in his and he jerked her to him, spinning her around, pushing her back against the wall and trapping her between his body and the hard surface.

  “It is good for you to be obsessed.” His fingers trailed down her face, across her neck to her throat. The pads of his fingers teased her bare skin, sending little flames dancing through her body. Without warning, he yanked the coat from her body, exposing the soft creamy flesh beneath. “You always wear too many clothes.”

  Her heart began to pound in response to his intensity. He could always do that to her, take away her balance when it came to their sexual encounters. “Would you like me to go naked in front of all of our company?”

  He growled low in his throat, bared his teeth, then leaned forward and gently bit down on her nipple, dragging his teeth back and forth until she moaned. “If I had my way, I would choose a time in history when I could simply lock you up, keep you safe and to myself, never share you.” He pinned her wrists together above her head. “I would keep you in shackles, chained to my bed, completely naked waiting for me, always wanting me.”

  His hands cupped her breasts and lifted them as he bent his head to feast. His mouth was already hot, his tongue lapping wickedly, his teeth scraping and teasing, his mouth suckling strongly. Most of the time, he took great care to pay attention to every nuance of her mind, ensuring everything he did was exactly the way she liked, but sometimes, when his demons and petty jealousies were riding him just a little too hard, he allowed himself the freedom of taking her body the way he wanted. Fast and hard and rough.

  Excitement always coursed through her mind—and maybe a little fear. He would never hurt her, but he always demanded submission—he always pushed her sexually. He was greedy for her. He wanted to know she would love him no matter what, that she would give him everything, that she would hold nothing back. But in the end, nothing mattered to him so much as her plea sure and he always—always—gave that to her tenfold.

  Rafael dropped to his knees, hands pushing her thighs apart and dragging her hips forward so his mouth could devour her. His tongue stabbed deep, drew out cream, and he began licking and sucking while her hips bucked against his mouth and her hands tangled in his hair. She screamed as the first wave rushed over her. The almost desperate sounds he made drove her right over the edge. Spasm after spasm rocked her.

  He tumbled her to the bed, following her down, skin to skin, thrusting his knee between her thighs to keep her open to him. He surged forward with one hard stroke, burying himself deep, driving through the soft velvet folds until he hit her womb. He tilted her hips, pushing deeper, forcing her to take all of him. He swore softly as her body, so tight and hot, grasped his, squeezing and milking and sending fire racing down his spine. Lightning sizzled in his bloodstream and whipped through his body. He began to piston, driving with his hips, sinking deep into the refuge of her body, reveling in the way her muscles tightened like a fist, holding him to her.

  He thrust hard, over and over, ignoring her helpless pleas as he took her higher and higher, building the plea sure until she was whimpering for release, pleading with him to take her over the edge. She began to throw her head back and forth, struggling against the terrible sexual tension, but he held her still, plunging his body into hers, taking them both to a fever pitch of need. Then she was screaming, as her body shattered around his, as jet after jet of heat filled her and her womb convulsed with shocking plea sure. It spread through her like a tornado, taking her body by surprise, ripping through her vaginal walls, down her thighs and up into her stomach.

  She lay gasping for breath, staring up at the man she loved above all else in the world—the man who loved and accepted her for who she was. Bloodlines or not, Rafael loved her and that was enough for her. She could feel confident in herself no matter what because he loved her unconditionally.

  13

  The wind began to pick up in strength, blowing snow around even as more began to fall in earnest. Mikhail hesitated just outside the large house. Traian Trigovise had designed and built the house for, not only his lifemate Joie, but to share with her brother Jubal and sister Gabrielle. Now that the vampire who had taken Traian’s blood was dead, Traian felt he could once more live in the company of other Carpathians without endangering them all.

  You’re being such a chicken, Raven teased.

  Traian’s in-laws are visiting. And Gabrielle has risen. There are going to be questions I would rather not have to answer at this time.

  Because she is in love with Gary Jansen.

  Not exactly. Mikhail knew he was hedging. He didn’t want Gabrielle and Gary to be in love. As humans it was perfectly fine, but now that Gabrielle had been converted, he knew there would be tremendous problems. And with Gabrielle’s parents there to celebrate Christmas, there would be more questions than normal. I think I will skip this visit.

  Mikhail Dubrinsky! You knock on that door. As the prince, it is your duty to
welcome Joie’s parents. And Gabrielle needs your support as well.

  My duties as prince seem to be getting larger and more complicated as time goes on. Maybe I should pass this duty along to my second in command.

  Raven laughed softly. Don’t you dare.

  Mikhail heaved a tortured sigh and knocked on the door. It swung open immediately and a woman with bright eyes and a ready smile greeted him.

  “Please come in. I’m Marissa Sanders, Joie, Jubal and Gabrielle’s mother.”

  “Mikhail Dubrinsky.” He identified himself, and sent Raven the image of him throttling her. I’d rather face a vampire than a mother-in-law. Her answering laughter wasn’t in the least sympathetic. I am going to have to explain to you the finer points of lifemates. You seem to be missing them.

  “Oh! The prince.” Mrs. Sanders stepped back to wave him inside. “Lovely to meet you. I have so many questions.”

  He bowed slightly. “I will try to answer what I can for you.”

  She stopped in the hall so abruptly he nearly ran into her. “Prince of what? Are you in exile? Everyone just refers to you as the prince, but they never say of which country. I imagine there are quite a few princes thrown out on their royal…” She brought herself up short, and swung back to continue walking down the hall.

  Mikhail nearly groaned out loud, but managed to suppress it. Traian! He issued the summons sharply, and in that moment he didn’t give a damn whether the entire population of Carpathians heard the panic in his voice or not. He was not answering this woman’s questions.

  She showed him into the large living room, and immediately took the chair opposite his and leaned forward eagerly. “I’ve just come from Sara’s. You’ll be happy to know the seamstresses are on track.”

  “Seamstresses?” he echoed faintly. What seamstresses, Raven?

  I have no idea. Ask her.

  Mikhail nodded, trying to look wise. “That is good, Mrs. Sanders. Uh—er—which seamstresses would that be?”