by Lynsay Sands
"No?" He smiled crookedly. "Perhaps because I like, respect and find you most desirable too," Tomasso said gently. "Because you're beautiful, intelligent, brave, strong--"
"But that's just it," Abigail interrupted on a cry of despair. "I'm not strong. Not at all. My mother tried to raise me to be strong like her, but on the beach and then when I was sick at the villa I--" She paused, shamefaced, and then admitted, "I liked it when you took care of me. I felt safe and coddled and I liked it," she admitted, sure that was probably feeble and shameful.
"Abigail," Tomasso said with disbelief. "Do you really think you are weak because when you were ill you appreciated my taking care of you?" He didn't let her answer, but pointed out, "You took care of your mother when she was ill, yet do not see her as weak."
"Yes, but she was dying," Abigail argued.
"So were you," he countered firmly, and reminded her, "It is why I turned you."
"Okay, but I liked it when you took care of me on the beach too. Bandaging my wound, catching fish and cooking it, bringing me coconuts so that I could drink the coconut water."
"Bella," Tomasso said with exasperation, "who tended my pene when it was all swollen and sore? Hmm? Who speared a fish and burnt--I mean cooked it for supper? And who brought me coconuts to drink from?" He shook his head and said gently, "I may have taken care of you when you were unconscious and then ill, but you did the same for me." Grabbing her hands, he squeezed lightly and said, "That is a team, a healthy relationship. We work together. Sometimes I will be stronger. Sometimes you will. But together, we can get through anything."
Abigail nodded slowly, acknowledging that he might be right, but then she shook her head and admitted, "But Tomasso, the whole time Jake and Sully had us I was wishing you'd come bursting in and rescue us. Or were even there with us, because I was sure you'd know what to do, that fear wouldn't have held you back like it did me. I even had chances to make an escape attempt earlier, but I was afraid Jet would get hurt and didn't have the balls to--"
"You do have balls," Tomasso interrupted insistently, and then frowned as he realized what he'd said. "Well, not literally, thank God, but you do have them metaphorically speaking, and big hairy ones too," he assured her. "You may have wished I would burst in and rescue you, but when I did not get there in time, you saved yourself. As well as Mary and Jet." Taking her face in his hands, he said softly, "Abigail, you are the strongest woman I know. The strongest, and the kindest and most beautiful . . ." He shook his head. "I wish I could make you see yourself through my eyes, because to me you are everything."
"A life mate," she whispered, recalling his response to her question of what a life mate was.
"Si." Tomasso nodded. "A life mate is everything. She is the one person an immortal cannot read or control. She is the one person he can relax and be around without fear of his own thoughts being read or his actions controlled. She is the one who suits him in all things. She is the one whose presence beats back the loneliness of a life otherwise lived alone. She is everything. She is you, Abigail. You are my life mate. You are my everything."
"Oh." Abigail blinked back the tears now glazing her eyes. "I do so love you, Tomasso Notte."
Slipping his arms around her, Tomasso replied, "And I love you, Abigail Forsythe soon-to-be Notte."
Her eyes widened slightly and then she chuckled. "You could at least propose or something. Most girls would be annoyed if a guy just presumed she'd marry him."
His eyebrows rose with concern, but he said, "You do not seem annoyed."
"I'm not most girls," she countered wryly.
Tomasso nodded solemnly. "I do know that."
His mouth came down to claim hers and Abigail rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him back, her arms sliding around his neck. She felt him tug the sash of her robe loose, and moaned into his mouth, her body shivering with pleasure as his hands moved possessively over her naked flesh. When he suddenly broke their kiss and picked her up by the waist, Abigail wrapped her legs around his hips, and then glanced over his shoulder and noted the food waiting on the table as he moved away from it.
"What about the food?" she asked with a frown.
Tomasso paused and glanced to her with uncertainty. "Are you hungry?"
"A bit," Abigail admitted, and then added shyly, "But I think I can wait a little while to eat."
Tomasso smiled and continued toward the bed and Abigail glanced past him again, this time her gaze finding the window. Noting the snowy landscape outside, she wrinkled her nose and thought it was probably sunny and warm in Punta Cana right now. Caracas too, which made her wonder--"Why aren't we in Caracas? That's where the other kidnapped immortals are, isn't it? Shouldn't we be there helping to find them?"
"No. You should not be there," he said firmly, and then added, "Because it is dangerous."
When she began to look angry, he quickly added, "And not just for you and Mary. The pair of you need to learn to recognize your hunger before it becomes a problem. You also need to learn what you can and cannot do now physically, how to read and control minds and how to bring on your fangs to feed. You could be a danger to mortals otherwise."
Abigail scowled over that, but could hardly argue the point. If she and Mary had been able to read and control minds they could have easily got themselves out of the clutches of the disgusting Jake and Sully. Or, she could have, she supposed, since Mary had been knocked out by the dart pretty quickly. She supposed they hadn't used it on her right away because they'd suspected she wouldn't yet have those skills, which suggested Jake and Sully knew a lot about immortals and how quickly they gained such skills. That thought made her wonder what would be done with the pair, but first she wanted to know--"Why Canada?"
Tomasso paused again, this time frowning with concern. "Are you feeling all right?"
Her eyebrows rose. "Yes. Why?"
"I already explained that I thought it best you not wake in the villa and--"
"Yes, I know, but I just wondered why Canada and not Texas or Italy or . . . ?" She shrugged. "Why Canada specifically?"
"Ah," he said and smiled wryly. "Lucian arranged the flight. Jet had to come here for his training, and I have family here so it seemed the best choice at the time."
"Oh," she murmured and then asked, "Where will we live?"
Tomasso hesitated and then carried her the rest of the way to the bed and sat down on the side of it to settle her in his lap. He then said, "We can live wherever you wish. My home is in Italy, but I have been thinking of buying a condo in California and one here in Toronto to stay in when I visit family."
"I notice you didn't mention Texas," Abigail pointed out.
Tomasso grimaced. "Texas could be a problem. Only because you have friends and acquaintances there who might pick up on subtle differences in you now that you have turned. The silver in your eyes, for instance," he added, and then said, "However, we could live in Texas. Just perhaps not where you grew up. It is better to avoid that area."
She nodded in understanding and was considering that when he said, "Of course, we can live somewhere else too if your schooling calls for it."
Stiffening, Abigail raised her gaze to his again. "Schooling?"
"You should finish medical school, Abigail," he said quietly. "From the way you bossed me around when I was injured, I know you would make a good doctor."
She laughed softly at the words and shook her head. "Once I get a job and can afford to, I'll return to school. Until then, we can live wherever you want."
"You do not need a job. We have a lot of money," he assured her. "Enough you need never work again if you do not wish."
Abigail frowned at this news. He could say we all he wanted, but the fact was she had nothing, not even the two-hundred-plus dollars she'd started out with when they met. She had no idea where that was. Abigail had lost her jeans along the way and the money with them. So, Tomasso was saying he had a lot of money that he was willing to share with her.
That was pretty interesting. Not that
he was willing to share it with her, but that he had a lot of money. She'd never even considered that he might. Perhaps because he hadn't even had clothes when she'd met him. The man had been naked as a jaybird and Abigail had just assumed he was a regular type guy who happened to be a gorgeous, sexy beefcake.
Clearing her throat, she said, "Thank you. But I'd rather pay my own way. So we can live wherever you want, at least until I have the money to go to school."
"Hmm." Tomasso scowled at her and then relaxed. "It is still winter. We have months until the fall when I presume medical school would start. That is plenty of time for me to convince you to attend. In the meantime, we will stay in Toronto for a bit so that you can meet my family here, and then we will go to California so you can meet my family there, and then we will return to Italy so I may show you our home, and where I grew up and introduce you to my parents and brothers and sisters and cousins and nieces and nephews and great nieces and--"
Abigail kissed him to shut him up, mostly because Tomasso was scaring the heck out of her with his list of all the people she had to meet and be inspected by. The thought of all of them looking her over and judging her as a possible mate for Tomasso was a bit alarming.
He didn't seem to mind the silencing tactic. Tomasso kissed her back, his hands pushing her open robe over her shoulders so that his hands could find and caress her breasts until she moaned and arched in his lap. Then he let one hand drop down to slide up her leg and, despite herself, the action reminded Abigail of Jake and his damned dart gun. It didn't upset her so much as raise questions in her mind that she wanted answered.
Catching his hand to stop him, Abigail broke their kiss and pulled back to look at him.
"Are you all right?" Tomasso asked with concern. "It is too soon after all?"
"No," Abigail assured him. "I just--what will happen to Jake and Sully?"
"Happen?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes. I mean, I know you probably can't take them to the police. They might start squawking about vampires and stuff, so what will be done? Do you guys have a prison of your own you put them in, or . . ." She shrugged slightly, having no other idea of what could be done with the men. "I presume they won't just be let go to kidnap some other poor immortals or murder more mortals."
"No. They will not be released," Tomasso said slowly, and then cleared his throat and said, "In the normal course of events they would have had their minds wiped permanently and then would probably have been placed in a mental facility. The kind of wiping I speak of can do permanent damage," Tomasso explained. "However, if it did not do permanent damage, they would have been released into the population as a blank slate to start over. However, they would have been watched until it was ascertained that they would not be trouble again."
That sounded kinder than what they deserved, Abigail thought, but asked, "You said would have been? So that didn't happen this time?"
Tomasso shook his head, his expression troubled.
"Then what happened?" she asked.
"They are dead, cara," he said gently.
"What?" Abigail's eyes went wide. "Did Lucian have them killed?"
"No, bella. They were dead when we got to you," Tomasso said, his concern growing. "Do you not remember what happened?"
"Yes, of course, but who killed them?" she asked and frowned when he stared at her silently. Abigail started to shake her head as understanding struck. "No. Jake hit the wall a little harder than I expected. Actually, I didn't think I could throw him that far, but surely--"
"His neck snapped either when he hit the wall or when he fell to the floor," Tomasso said solemnly.
"It did?" Abigail asked faintly, her stomach turning over as she realized she'd killed someone. Pushing that thought away, she asked, "But what about Sully? I know I didn't kill him. All I did was shoot him with one of the drugged darts. That wouldn't kill--" She paused when she saw that Tomasso was nodding and asked uncertainly, "It did?"
"Normal tranquilizers do not work on immortals. The nanos clean them out of our system too quickly," Tomasso explained. "The drugs in those darts, and the amount needed to affect an immortal, even for a short time, are deadly to a mortal." Tomasso shrugged apologetically. "Sully overdosed. His heart probably stopped before he hit the floor."
Abigail just stared at him.
"Are you all right?" he asked with a frown.
Abigail nodded, and then shook her head. She'd killed two men. They'd been cruel animals, murderers and worse, but she'd still taken two lives. Their blood was on her hands.
Tomasso pressed her head to his chest and rubbed her back soothingly. "It was an accident. You were trying to save Jet and Mary and yourself. Jake and Sully would have done worse to you. But you are going to insist on feeling guilty about this, are you not?"
"I'm afraid so," she said on a sigh.
"Then I suppose I will just have to do my best to distract you every time you think of them," Tomasso announced, his tone businesslike.
Abigail lifted her head in question. "How--?"
His mouth covered hers, answering the question before she could fully ask it. At first, Abigail went still, but as he began to stir the passion in her that always rose to meet his, she relaxed and began to kiss him back. That was when Abigail realized that Tomasso hadn't been at all sure his method would work, because he relaxed then and his kiss deepened.
When her hand drifted down to touch the pup tent in his pants, Tomasso growled into her mouth as a shaft of excitement raced through both their bodies. Their kiss quickly became more violent, and Abigail reached down eagerly with her other hand to unsnap his pants and lower his zipper. She then gasped when Tomasso suddenly stood up, taking her with him. Much to her confusion, he sat down again in the next moment. But when he then lifted and turned her so that she was facing him with her legs on either side of his, she understood what that exercise had been about. His pants were around his ankles, she saw before he settled her to straddle his lap so that his erection was trapped between them.
"Oh," Abigail moaned as he eased her more firmly against his erection, his hands roaming her body. Arching forward, she covered his hands with hers and tipped her head back as he began to palm and fondle her breasts. She gasped as he tweaked both nipples at once, and then laughed breathlessly and said, "You're very good at distracting."
"It is my pleasure," Tomasso responded, his voice a deep growl, his eyes lifting to her face. He stilled briefly, and then suddenly released one breast and reached to the side.
Abigail turned her head curiously, to see what was now distracting him, her eyes widening slightly as he opened the front of the bedside table to reveal the mini refrigerator inside. Opening that, Tomasso pulled out four bags of blood one after the other, and then pushed the door closed.
"What--?" she began with a frown, but paused as she nicked her tongue on one of her fangs. They'd descended and she hadn't even noticed.
"You are still healing," Tomasso said gently, and then hefting one bag in his hand, he smiled crookedly and asked, "Do you think we can last through all four bags before fainting?"
"I don't know," she admitted and then grinned and pointed out, "But you did say together we could get through anything."
"Si, I did," he agreed solemnly, and then, his expression wry, admitted, "But this may be the exception to the rule."
Abigail grinned, for some reason delighted at that, and then shrugged and suggested, "Why don't we find out?"
When she opened her mouth then, Tomasso hesitated only a heartbeat before popping the bag to her fangs. He then immediately let his hand drift back down to her breast, but he only let it brush gently over the sensitive, erect nipple before allowing it to continue on its journey. When his fingers slid between her legs to work their magic, Abigail rose up slightly on a gasp and clutched at his shoulders, thinking that he was probably right. While together they could do anything, this may just be one of the very few exceptions to the rule . . . but she would very much enjoy every minute they spent tr
ying.
Epilogue
"Dr. Dressler?"
"Hmm?" Ian Dressler didn't bother to glance up at his assistant's voice. His attention remained fixed on the unconscious subject on the metal table before him as he carefully and almost painfully slowly eased a needle into the man's arm.
"Ramirez called. He said it was urgent I pass along his message at once."
Dressler stiffened, then withdrew the needle from the subject's arm and straightened to peer at his assistant expectantly for a moment before barking, "Well, spit it out then, Asherah. What was the message?"
"He said you told him to watch for anyone flying into either airport with the name Argeneau?"
"Yes, yes, and?" he asked impatiently.
"Three planes owned by Argeneau Enterprises have landed in the last twenty-four hours. All of them carrying at least four people, and there are two more flights scheduled, one today and one tomorrow."
"Twelve or more already?" he said with wonder. "And more coming?"
"No, sir, three," Asherah corrected gently. "Three planes have landed."
Dressler shook his head with disgust. "I was speaking of how many immortals have arrived. Four or more on each of the three planes makes at least twelve," he pointed out dryly.
"Oh, yes, of course," she muttered, looking chagrined.
They were both silent for a minute and then Dressler nodded. "Call Ramirez back and tell him to update me as these other planes arrive and let us know how many each contains. And then send men to the mainland and find out where all of these arrivals are staying. They'll need a villa, I'm sure, or several of them. I want them watched. I want to know every single move they make. But tell the men to keep their distance and be very, very careful they aren't seen."
"Yes, sir." Head bobbing, Asherah backed quickly out of the room.
Dressler watched the door close, but didn't really see it. His mind was racing with all that had to be done and how little time he might have to accomplish it. He was still standing there several moments later when a moan from the man on the table caught his ear. The subject was waking up.