She did a double-take and inspected him closer while his gaze was averted. Short-cropped midnight hair, and high cheekbones flowed into a straight nose. Her stomach tightened in response to his sensual mouth and strong jaw line.
His black trench coat hid his build, though its length only accentuated his height, which she guessed to be about six-three. The cut of his white dress shirt and charcoal gray slacks screamed custom made. What was he doing in her small bookstore? He had the look of a Barrett's shopper.
She quickly glanced down at her chocolate brown sweater and long black skirt. Note to self: your clothes suck! Update them and for the love of Jimmy, get some color girl. She lifted her head with a wry smile and asked, "Can I help you with something?"
He turned and white teeth gleamed in a charming grin. "Hi," he called out. "I'm just looking."
Her heart flopped in her chest at that devastating smile and then did a somersault when she met his metallic gaze and realized he was the man from the cemetery.
Rana worked hard to keep her voice steady. "Take your time."
She put one book on the shelf and noticed the other hadn't been tagged. Behind the counter, she attached a tag and returned to the used bookshelf.
The man stood in front of the tall wooden case, inspecting the titles, a thoughtful look on his face. "How old are some of these books? The titles seem to go back a few decades."
His pale gray eyes met hers and her heart tripped a beat. She let out a nervous, throaty laugh. "Yes, some of the books on the left date back as early as 1930."
The curve of that sensual mouth and the warmth of his smile, took her breath away. "I'm a collector of sorts."
The man absolutely mesmerized her. His speech was formal and cultured, more…old school. She found the cadence in the deep timbre of his voice extremely sexy, almost hypnotic. Shaking her head to clear it, she finally remembered to speak. "Well, browse to your heart's content." She lifted the book to shelve it when long, warm fingers encircled her wrist, catching her hand in midair.
Rana sucked in her breath at the electric contact and turned questioning eyes his way. For some inexplicable reason, she wasn't afraid of him, only intensely aware of how much he affected her.
"Did you just get this one in? What's it about?" He indicated the book in her hand.
"It's a book about vampires." She laughed. "I doubt it's your kind of reading."
He raised a dark eyebrow, amusement obvious as his hand remained clasped around her wrist. "What kind of books do I look like I would read?" As he awaited her answer, he rubbed his thumb over her pounding pulse, causing liquid fire to course throughout her body, settling between her legs in throbbing heat. She became immensely aware of his nearness, his clean masculine scent.
Rana pulled her arm from his grasp, opened the book, and read an excerpt, "'They are the undead, forever doomed to walk the night in search of their next meal. The beating pulse of their victim calls to their basest instinct: to feed.'"
She glanced up to meet his gaze and grinned, but his eyes were on her throat, his expression intrigued. As if he sensed her stare, he raised his silver gaze to hers and a slow, sexy smile formed on his lips. "Now why does that sound so sensual when you read it versus how I'm sure it's intended to be taken?"
Rana blushed, feeling the heat infuse her cheeks, and swiftly turned to put the book on the shelf, glancing over her shoulder to answer him. "My guess is your taste runs more in the non-fiction section."
"You mean you don't believe in vampires?"
Enough flirting, Rana girl, she reminded herself. "Certainly not." She had to stand on her tiptoes to place the book on the right shelf. Her foot slipped and her wrist grazed the wooden shelf, catching on its rough edge as she grabbed a lower one for support. "Ow!" Damn that hurt. She had to clench her jaw to keep from repeating the explicative that came to mind.
The man's arms went around her waist, righting her. "Are you okay?"
Rana tensed at the sensation of his strong arms around her—the rightness. She brushed his hands away. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little clumsy tonight."
She started to walk away when he caught her arm once more, his dark brows drawing together. "You're hurt."
She looked down at his coat sleeve. Though black she could see where drops of moisture stood out on the smooth material.
Beads of blood surfaced in the long, red gash on her wrist. That's going to look lovely tomorrow, she thought wryly. "Oh, I'm sorry about your coat."
Holding her arm, he gently rubbed his thumb over her wound, erasing the blood, but it just resurfaced again. When his eyes met hers, his nostrils flared and he held her gaze for a long, tense moment before he spoke. "Do you have some antiseptic to clean your wound?"
Rana nodded mutely and walked behind the counter to open the first aid kit.
Without a word, he took the alcohol swab from her, and rubbed it tenderly over the cut. The alcohol stung and she winced reflexively. She stared at him, wondering why in the world she let this complete stranger take care of her.
He leaned over and blew on her wound, looking up at her with a mischievous smile. "It always helped when I was a kid. Do you have any band aids?"
While he held her arm, she turned to retrieve a band-aid and felt his finger rub across her wound once more. She quickly turned back to see him holding out his hand with an expectant look on his face.
"Blood was surfacing again," he explained.
She placed the band-aid in his hand and he put the bandage on her arm with precise, measured movements, making her feel cherished and protected. Now why would I think such a silly, fanciful thing? Rana handed him a wipe, careful to keep her expression neutral. "Here, so you can clean the blood off your hand."
He waved it away with a smile. "No need. I took care of it."
"Oh," she said, wondering what he'd cleaned his hand with. "I'll gladly pay to have your coat dry cleaned," she offered.
He smiled, his gaze locking with hers as he rubbed his thumb along the fleshy part of her hand. "Come have dinner with me instead." The words reverberated in an echoing whisper over and over in her mind like a sing-song chant.
Surprised by his dinner invitation, she drew her hand away, briskly collected the trash and put the first aid kit back together, snapping the lid closed. With a polite smile, she shook her head. "I don't even know you." When all she really wanted to do was say, "Yes," to a total stranger. Was she nuts?
"But we've already met once," he said with a sexy smile.
She sucked in her breath. "You remember me from the cemetery?" Whom had he been there to see? Had he suffered a loss just as she had?
His expression turned tender. "How could I forget you? You looked very sad that day. I'm sorry for your loss."
His mention of Jack's death reminded her how emotionally fragile she was. She didn't need a relationship right now, even if she felt a strong connection with this man. She shook off the feeling of familiarity. He was still a stranger.
"I don't think so."
Tsk, tsk, using me as an excuse. She heard Jack's voice in her head as if he were leaning over her shoulder.
Oh, shut up, Jack. I'm trying to respect the dead.
Yeah, right.
She raised her eyebrow. "Are you done shopping? I'm about to close up for the night."
He nodded and headed for the door; his movements fluid and graceful as if he didn't really walk, but glided across the floor. He opened the door and met her gaze. "Yes, I found what I was looking for. Good night."
"Good night," she called after him, not sure what to make of the man. He'd said he'd found what he was looking for, but he didn't buy a thing.
Chapter Four
Lucian stood outside The Lion's Lair, waiting for Kraid to exit. He'd seen the vamp seducing two young women on the dance floor. Although he knew it wouldn't be long before Kraid led the women outside, frustration mounted as leaned against the wall. Maybe it was best he couldn't find Kraid last night after he'd fed. Now he'd had two
days to build his strength. Tonight was about setting the vamp straight, but he'd fight him if it came to that.
Kraid exited the club, nuzzling the neck of one of the blondes. Her twin, flanking his other side, ran her long red nails down his chest.
Lucian stepped out of the shadows, blocking his path.
"Kraid. We need to talk."
Kraid looked up at him and laughed dismissively. "Later."
"No. Now, Kraid." Lucian didn't move. He looked at the women and compelled them. "You're tired and you want to go home."
"No." Kraid tightened his grip on her waist.
One woman speared her fingers through his short, spiky brown hair, saying, "I'm really tired, Kraid. I'll see you later, okay?" She turned and walked off toward her car. The other kissed his cheek and followed her sister, blowing him a goodbye kiss.
Kraid started to follow her, but Lucian put his hand on his chest. "I said now."
"What do you want?" Kraid snapped, narrowing his green eyes at him.
"I want you to keep your clan in line, Kraid. I heard about the killings." He fixed his long-time rival with a steely stare. "That's unacceptable."
Kraid elevated his chin. "Who are you to tell me what's acceptable or not?"
"I'm accepting the Vité position." Lucian gave him a lazy, confident smile. "So you see, I have every right."
He noted the surprise in Kraid's eyes and the pure hatred that followed before the vamp masked it with an insolent smile.
"The vote has to be unanimous, Lucian. And I won't vote for you."
Lucian ignored his comment. "I'm here to talk about the humans who were killed, Kraid."
Kraid buffed his nails on the lapel of his jacket and affected a bored expression. "The human I killed was a vampire hunter. He deserved to die." He lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "I'm not sure about the other two."
Lucian clenched his jaw at the man's complete lack of responsibility. "You'll answer to the council for your actions. Punish the other offenders in your clan or I will."
"Why are you acting like I've committed some crime?" Kraid gritted his teeth in anger. "The man was a vampire hunter."
"Because you're the leader of your clan and are responsible for the Bruens' actions."
"I don't see what the big deal is."
Lucian took a step closer and leaned toward Kraid with menace. "You and your clan's stupidity puts us all in danger." He flung his arm out toward the open parking lot, his anger rising. "There are vampire hunters out there who would love to rid this world of all vamps, and they're just waiting for us to screw up. We're the minority. We must learn to live among humans as best we can." He saved the best for last as he pinned Kraid with a meaningful stare. "If you can't curb your clan, Ian will take your place."
The veins bulging on Kraid's temple displayed how hard he worked to control his temper. Finally, he snorted and cocked his head to the side. "So, why the sudden interest in the Vité position, Lucian, hmmm?"
Before he could respond, Kraid's eyes lit up with delightful glee. "Don't tell me you've found your 'mate'?" He laughed heartily as he had done for many years at what he considered Lucian's softness.
Lucian kept his expression carefully dispassionate.
Kraid inhaled deeply. "I smell her weak human's blood on you." He flared his nostrils and slid his tongue across his teeth. "And the scent is pure, untainted by another vamp." He smiled, showing his fangs. "Maybe I'll have a go at her."
Blind red rage encompassed Lucian. He grabbed Kraid by the neck and slammed him up against the wall, baring his fangs with a hiss. "If you go anywhere near her, I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands."
Lucian ignored Kraid's attempts to loosen his hand and tightened it around his windpipe. Even though vamps only took a few breaths per minute, he only had to hold him long enough to cut off his air. His entire body tense and coiled with fury, Lucian said in a deadly voice, "Am I making myself clear?"
Kraid managed a strangled affirmative noise. He let him drop to the ground. While Kraid gasped for breath, Lucian finished, "Get your clan in order. You have to answer to the council in three days."
He turned to walk away, but Kraid couldn't help one last taunt. "Why would you even consider diluting the Kantrue blood with an insignificant human?"
Lucian didn't dignify his question with an answer. He opened the nightclub's door and walked inside.
* * * * *
Rana lay on the bed, naked, her eyes closed, her body heat igniting to a slow, steady burn, her sex throbbing in anticipation. He leaned over her and kissed her neck before sliding his lips down to her breast. Grasping a taut nipple in his hot, moist mouth, he took a long, hard drag.
She gasped and arched her back toward him, clutching his broad, muscular shoulders, reveling in the powerful tendons flexing underneath her fingers and the surge of lust that shot through her body.
He kissed a path to her other breast and lavished it with equal attention while his hand traced her stomach muscles and lower until he touched her damp curls.
She moaned in pleasure when his finger slid inside. "Open for me, Rana," he whispered in her ear.
His intimate words fueled her desire, making her ache for him. She opened her legs wider, wanting, needing his touch. He added another finger and plunged them both deep into her before he drew them back out, spreading her moist warmth around her, playing with her clitoris.
"You're so wet and utterly responsive." Satisfaction laced his desire-filled tone.
Passion built and she panted as sweet, thrumming tension coiled within her.
He lifted his head and his pale gray eyes met hers. Rana's heart jerked when she immediately recognized the man from her store.
The shock of making love to a complete stranger jolted her out of her seductive, erotic dream. She sat up in bed, breathing hard, her heart pounding as she clutched the covers around her.
Sensing a presence, she turned toward the French doors and sucked in a breath when she saw a man's outline in the night shadows. Somehow she knew it was the man from her dream.
"I must still be dreaming. I've conjured you up in my mind," she whispered.
He took a step forward and the moonlight reflected on his face. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
She smiled. "I'm not afraid. What's your name?"
"My name is Lucian." His smile was tender. "And yours is Rana. I like the way your name sounds on my lips."
She did too. To her foggy, sleep-filled brain it sounded like an endearment.
His gaze raked her naked shoulders and arms, lingering on the spaghetti straps of her nightgown. The fire in his eyes turned hot and intense. "Will you invite me in, dear Rana?"
The fierceness of his gaze made her completely aware of her half-dressed state. Rana pulled the covers closer. She might not be afraid of him but he was still a stranger. "No."
He sighed, his expression disappointed. "Then go back to sleep, love."
She shook her head. "Not while you're here."
He grinned. "Your wish is my command. Sweet dreams, my Rana." He shimmered and disappeared.
Rana rubbed her eyes and blinked at the spot Lucian had stood. She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, her heart beating against her ribcage. Man, that was some dream, a very vivid dream. Goosebumps formed on her arms when she realized the ache between her legs was very real, very real indeed. She tossed and turned until exhaustion finally took over.
* * * * *
Lucian reappeared as soon as she fell back to sleep. He stood beside her bed and stared adoringly at her, reliving their shared passion. His shaft throbbed, begging for release, but he tamped down the unfulfilled ache. He welcomed the discomfort. It felt good to be alive again after feeling dead for so long. He wanted to be near her. He needed to be near her. He needed the closeness so much he was breaking a cardinal vampire rule: a vampire must be given permission to enter another's home.
During the day, he'd woo her as any man would court his mate, but at
night she was all his to love and bring to heights of passion. He'd only satisfy her, however, not himself. She'd have to ask him to stay before he allowed himself that pleasure. He'd risk the insanity until she succumbed.
And she would. He closed his eyes and drew in his breath, inhaling her aroused feminine scent, reveling in the heat emanating from her soft skin. Lucian willed himself to remain calm as he reached out an unsteady hand to touch the cascade of hair on her pillow.
Her gorgeous shoulder-length hair pleased him immensely. And her hazel green eyes, filled with sadness at first but quick to humor, drew him in. Her coloring was nothing like Elizabeth's, but the soul, the intensity, the connection was there, even stronger than before.
His entire body shook with his desire to taste her. Earlier, when she'd hurt herself, an overwhelming need to protect rushed through him. He'd done what he could to help her heal, but rubbing his healing saliva on her arm only made him want her more. The sight of her bright red blood stoked the fire burning inside him to pure unadulterated lust.
The taste of those tiny droplets he'd swept from her arm only managed to whet his appetite. He'd relished the flavor, sweet and pure, a decidedly erotic combination especially considering the passionate side of her he'd seen tonight. He might be tortured, but he could wait. Their joining would be that much sweeter for it in the end.
* * * * *
Rana spent the entire next day thinking of the man named Lucian. Well, at least in her dream his name was Lucian. She smiled that her subconscious had created such a dangerous sounding name for him. But then—she blushed when she remembered her dream's passionate nature—danger seemed to fit right in with the theme. Where had this wanton nature been all her life? Oh, she'd had a couple of boyfriends in the past, but no one affected her the way the man in her dream had. The thought both disturbed and thrilled her at the same time.
She'd even chosen her outfit with him in mind. Her hunter green, fine gauge sweater clung to her upper body, displaying her curves, which weren't near enough, she thought with a wry smile. She'd coupled the sweater with a patterned wool skirt that stopped a few inches above her knees. Soft leather knee high boots completed her outfit.
A Taste For Passion Page 4