I opened the door, threw off my coat, chucked my keys on the phone table, and began stripping off as I headed for the bathroom.
A soft chuckle ran across the silence.
My heart froze and, for one horrible second, I thought I’d made the mistake that would end my life. Then the voice registered and my heart did a strange little leap. I couldn’t help the smile that touched my lips as I turned around.
Quinn O’Conor, ancient vampire, billionaire businessman, and one of my two permanent lovers, stood near the window, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against one pane of the glass that lined the entire outside wall of our living room.
As window dressings went, he was mighty damn fine.
Tonight he wore a navy shirt that emphasized the width of his shoulders and dark jeans that drew the eye down the lean, athletic length of his legs. His hair—once shoulder length but now cut shorter—was night dark, and so thick, so lush, that my fingertips itched with the need to run through it. Unlike most vampires, he could stand a lot of sunshine, so he was as far from white as a vampire could actually get, his skin possessing a warm, almost golden glow. And to say he was handsome would be the understatement of the year. I swear even angels would be envious of his looks, and yet he was in no way effeminate.
But it was his obsidian eyes that always caught me, and right now they were filled with a heat that instantly began to warm the chill from my skin. And, as ever, as our gazes met, something passed between us, an awareness that made my heart stutter and caused goose bumps to prickle across my skin. It was an awareness that had been present from the very first time we’d met, and it seemed to be getting stronger with every passing month.
The last time I’d seen him was two weeks ago—when he’d left me high but far from dry after a delicious dinner date. Why he’d refused all my efforts to get him into bed—or anywhere else, for that matter—I have no idea. But I very much suspected it was all part of a larger plan.
All I had to do now was uncover what that plan was. Not an easy thing when he’d had over twelve hundred years of practice at keeping secrets.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” I said, continuing to strip off wet clothes and drop them on the floor as I walked toward him.
His eyes gleamed with heat, and desire swirled around me—a teasing, lusty aroma that had my blood racing even harder through my veins. If it was anything to go by, he would not be playing hard to get tonight.
“I heard you liked surprises,” he said, a smile teasing his lush lips as he lightly touched my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.
Not exactly the type of kiss I was hoping for.
I pulled away from his light touch, undid my bra, and tossed it toward my discarded shirt. As tosses went, it was pretty lame, but at that point, I wasn’t really caring.
“So is the surprise you appearing uninvited in my apartment, or have you something more interesting in mind?”
He smiled, his finger warm against my skin as he skimmed my cheek and lightly outlined my lips. I opened my mouth slightly, drawing in his fingertip, sucking on it briefly. Heat flared brighter in his dark eyes, and the sweet aroma of lust sharpened, until it felt like I was being crushed under the weight of it. But oh, what a way to go.
“I thought you might like to go out for dinner,” he said, the Irish lilt in his rich voice suddenly more pronounced.
“Me eating food and you eating me?” I raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing my lips. “We could do that now, if you’d like.”
Even as I said it, I skimmed my hands down the muscled planes of his chest and stomach, wishing he was naked so I could actually feel skin. When I reached the button of his jeans, I played with it lightly, one finger skimming underneath, brushing the top of the erection straining against the denim. All it would take was one quick tug of the zipper, and he would be free and mine.
But before I could put thought into action, he caught my hands and brought them back up to his lips. The kiss he dropped on the top of my fingers was light, almost impersonal, and yet there was nothing impersonal about the way his gaze met mine. This vampire wanted me as much as I wanted him, and I’d be damned if I knew why he was resisting. It wasn’t like either of us were new to the game of lovemaking.
And it certainly wasn’t as if we were new to each other. We’d been making like rabbits for months. Well, at least up until the last few weeks, when this whole “let’s frustrate Riley” mode of operation had come in.
“You’re wet and cold,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“My skin may be cold and I may be wet, but trust me, I’m warm where it counts.” I closed the gap between us and pressed my breasts lightly against him. The silk felt so good against my nipples that I rubbed them back and forth across his shirt, enjoying the smooth coolness of the material. “Would you like to feel just how warm and wet?”
“What I would like,” he said, and leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on my lips, “is for you to have a shower and get dressed so we can make our dinner reservation.”
“Meaning no fun beforehand?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
He smiled, and my heart did another weird twist in my chest. I’d known lots of good-looking men over the years, and many of them had great smiles, but Quinn’s was in a league of its own.
“What if I promise it will be worth it?” he said.
“Dinner will only be worth it if you come as dessert.”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I’m not taking you to dinner at all, but somewhere where there is no chance of interruption so I can ravish you senseless. But if you do not get ready, you will never know.”
I admitted momentary defeat and stepped back. “Then I’m guessing you don’t want to share the shower with me?”
“I’d love to share a shower, but I suspect it would end up being an extremely
long
shower.”
“And there’s something wrong with that?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He gave me another killer smile. “Go get ready, woman.”
I went. And while I usually lingered in the shower, enjoying the sting of the water jets against my skin, there was nothing leisurely about
this
shower. I was out and dried in record time. I waltzed naked from the bathroom and headed for the bedroom. Quinn had his back to me, staring out over the myriad of city lights so visible from our windows. But, like moths drawn to a flickering flame, our gazes met in the glass.
I stopped, and for several seconds did nothing more than stare at him. It was rare for me, that. Werewolves seldom held still for any amount of time—the energy of the beast, barely contained, was Rhoan’s theory. But in this instance the urge to move had fled, consumed by the force of the vampire in front of me, lost in the emotive swirl of want and desire and something else—something that ventured close to determination and yet was a whole lot more powerful.
Then his gaze left mine and slid down my body, becoming a sensual and yet excruciatingly slow exploration that had pinpricks of sweat breaking out across my skin. And suddenly it was all I could do not to run across the room and jump into his arms. Take or be taken.
He smiled at that moment, and I knew he’d read the emotion behind the thought, if not the thought itself. Quinn was both a strong empath and telepath, and while I had mind-shields strong enough to keep most vampires out, there was something about
this
vampire that left my senses reeling and my defenses down.
And it wasn’t just the link we’d formed to allow communication between us in psi-shielded areas. It was more—had always been more, even before we’d shared blood.
But he was a vampire, not a wolf, and no matter how much my own body might betray my white-picket-fence-and-kids ideal, no matter how deep the connection between us became, there was no escaping the fact that we came from two very different worlds. I could never be only with him like he wanted, and he could never provide what I wanted. I might not be able to carry children but, at this point, my eggs were still fertile. But Quinn could never give me those children. He was the undead.
Nor would he stand for someone else giving me what he could not provide. God, he hated the fact that I had other lovers, that I still went to the clubs and danced with whom I wanted, even though he knew that was part of a werewolf’s nature—and something we would not give up for anyone less than a soul mate.
And while I might feel a deep connection with Quinn, he wasn’t a wolf and he could never be my soul mate.
No matter how much he might think otherwise.
His gaze went back to the lights, freeing me from stillness but leaving me hot and achy and more than a little frustrated. I mightn’t have any idea about the game he was playing, but I’d be damned if I’d put up with it for much longer. He might have centuries of secrets behind him, but I was a werewolf and sensuality was an inherent part of who we were. Sex was as important to us as blood was to a vampire, and if Quinn expected me to simply play along with whatever he had planned, then he was in for a rude awakening.
I continued into the bedroom and headed for the wardrobe, which wasn’t as sparse as it had been a few months ago. Rhoan had gone on another of his spending sprees, and as usual, he’d bought clothes for me. I think he figured I wouldn’t tell him off as much if he shared the loot. And I have to admit, his taste was far better than mine, even if his love of bright colors sometimes had me wincing.
“Do I need to dress casual, elegant, or upmarket?” I yelled out as I studied options.
“Comfortable,” he answered, amusement evident in his deep tones.
Damn. It was hard to do seductive in comfortable clothes. After several minutes of indecision, I simply grabbed a pair of jeans and a thick woolen sweater. If I couldn’t do sexy, I might as well be warm. I grabbed socks and undies, but didn’t bother with a bra. The moon was blooming, and the moon heat—which was what we wolves called the seven-day period before the full moon—was only days away. This was the time when the power of the moon surged through our veins with ever-increasing strength, and our hunger for sex became a call we could not—dared not—ignore. The heat didn’t usually hit me as hard as it did full-blooded wolves, but every couple of months I suffered all the outward symptoms. Like my breasts feeling fuller, and becoming overly sensitive. And me feeling hornier than a bitch in heat.
Which I guess was what I was.
I dressed, dragged a pair of shoes from the grip of the dust bunnies under my bed, then walked back into the living room. He looked me up and down, then said, “Perfect.”
“I know.” I resisted the urge to do a sexy pose—a hard thing to pull off in jeans and a floppy woolen sweater anyway—and grabbed my apartment keys and wallet, shoving them both in my pocket. “So, give. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He herded me out the door and down the stairs. Outside, the wind was strong, ripping the door from my grip and slamming it back against the outside wall.
The night was still freezing cold, but at least the rain had stopped. A white limo waited at the curb. The driver stood near the rear door, and opened it as we approached. Once we were seated, the driver climbed back in, started the car, and zoomed off. Obviously, he was in on the plan, whatever the plan was.
I ignored the seat belt and slid across the soft leather seat until I was practically sitting on Quinn’s lap. “I’ve never made love in a limousine,” I said softly, sliding my hand provocatively up his leg.
“Then perhaps that can be another outing,” he commented, stopping my hand before it got to the interesting bits.
“You know, if you’re planning to frustrate me, you’re succeeding.”
Amusement glittered in his obsidian eyes. “Good.”
“No, it’s not. I’m a wolf, remember, and the full moon is rising.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“But the million-dollar question is, do you plan to do something about it?”
Just for a moment, the heat and the need I could smell haunted the dark shadows of his eyes. My hormones did excited cartwheels, though in all honesty, I have no idea why, because all he said was “Be patient.”
“Patience was never one of my virtues.”
He chuckled softly, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. Such intimacy
without
sex wasn’t something I was really accustomed to, and it felt both strange and good at the same time. I leaned into him, my head resting against his shoulder, enjoying the closeness even while wishing it was a whole lot more.
We’d been driving for a good ten minutes before I realized we were headed for Essendon airport. Excitement stirred. I didn’t get out of Melbourne too often these days, and while our casual dress suggested our destination wasn’t somewhere too exotic, the airport meant it was at least going to be somewhere different.
It was a few minutes after that that the driver lowered the glass between us and him, and said, “Sir, I believe we are being followed.”
“Same car as before?”
“Yes. A white Saab, with two occupants.”
“Pull off at Airport West and see if we can lose him in the side streets there.”
I pulled away from his arm and sat up. “How long has someone been following you?”
“We picked up the tail when I arrived at the airport earlier this evening. I thought we’d managed to lose them.”