The Real Werewives of Vampire County
As if being drawn by a magnet, his gaze returned to her lips, all too easily imagining the havoc they could wreak as they moved down his body.
“It does more than rot my brain. Do you want me to demonstrate?”
CHAPTER 3
Hell, yeah.
She wanted him to demonstrate so badly she could barely breathe.
Which was exactly why she needed him gone.
Becoming involved with an alpha male was insanity under the best of circumstances.
Add in an unknown maniac trying to kill her, and her wolf’s bizarre need to mark him so that every other female would know he was off-limits, and it became a recipe for disaster.
“See?” she accused as he stroked his lips over her cheek. “Caveman.”
He shifted to nip the lobe of her ear. “There are benefits.”
Oh ... Christ.
She could already feel the benefits. They were melting through her body, making her knees weak and her hips press with restless need against the hard thrust of his growing erection.
In a minute she was going to rip off his clothes and push him onto the ceramic tiles.
Or maybe onto the breakfast table.
She wasn’t particular so long as it was hot and sweaty and lasted until she was too sated to move.
Vivid images of straddling that bronzed, perfect body had her abruptly shoving him away so she could head for the door.
“It’s late, go away,” she muttered, ignoring her wolf, which snarled in frustration.
She didn’t truly expect him to obey her order. Luc was a Were who would do what he wanted, when he wanted. But she hadn’t expected him to actually sweep her off her feet, cradling her against his magnificent chest as he headed toward the nearby stairs.
“What the hell?” she rasped.
“You’re right. It’s late.” He smiled down at her furious expression. “You should be in bed.”
A jolt of white-hot excitement speared through her.
Dammit.
She narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I won’t hurt you?”
“I’m your bodyguard.” With astonishing ease he carried up the curved steps and down the hall to enter her bedroom. He never paused as he crossed the silver carpet that accented the black and white décor. At last reaching the ebony slipper bed, he laid her on the white and black striped comforter and straightened to study her with a hooded gaze. “It’s my duty to tuck you in.”
She pushed herself into a seated position, leaning against the pile of silver pillows.
“Your duty?”
The dark eyes ran a hungry survey down the length of her body, his own body tense as he struggled to leash the desire pulsing in the air.
“There might be a bit of pleasure mixed in.”
She shivered. Not only from the rough edge in his voice that warned he was holding on by a thread, but by the possessive glow in those dark eyes.
“I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” she breathed.
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t like Neanderthals.”
“I can be as sensitive as the next guy.” His gaze shifted to the expanse of pale skin exposed by her tiny camisole. “With the proper motivation.”
She could physically feel the heat of his gaze, caressing over her with a searing pleasure.
Dammit, why couldn’t he be just another stunningly hot guy whom she could use and abuse and toss aside when she was done?
“You’re going to try to boss me around,” she accused in frustration, “telling me what I can and can’t do—”
“I’m going to keep you alive,” he interrupted.
“I won’t be caged.” She shook her head. “Not again.”
She regretted the words as soon as they slipped from her lips, abruptly turning to study the original Rembrandt etchings that hung on her wall.
“Sophia.” She felt the mattress dip beneath Luc’s considerable weight as he perched on the edge of the bed. When she refused to acknowledge his presence, he reached to cup her cheek in his hand and tugged her to meet his searching gaze. “Talk to me.”
“You’ve done your duty, now leave me alone,” she snapped.
His thumb brushed her lower lip. “Sophia.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to tell me why you think I would try to cage you.”
She gave a restless lift of her shoulder. “It’s just an expression.”
“It’s more than that,” he stubbornly insisted. “Tell me.”
“Luc.”
“Please.”
She stilled in surprise. She’d bet her favorite Hermès handbag that this man had never said the P word more than once or twice in his very long existence.
The fact he’d lowered his pride to use it now undermined any hope of resisting his soft plea.
“You know the history of our people,” she hedged, feeling dangerously vulnerable.
“That covers a lot of ground.”
“For far too long we have hovered on the edge of extinction.”
“Yes, but that is all about to change now that Salvatore has destroyed the demon lord,” he pointed out, referring to the King of Weres’ recent battle with the demon who’d been draining them of their powers for centuries. “Already our strength is returning. Even those ancient powers that have been nearly forgotten.” His lips twisted into a rueful grin. “Dangerous powers.”
“I suppose you’re referring to Salvatore discovering that Harley is his true mate?”
He nodded. “As I said ... dangerous.”
Sophia had to agree with him.
True matings between Weres had become nothing more than a distant legend until Salvatore’s shocking bond with Harley. Now there were rumors of more and more purebloods becoming mated.
What would it feel like to know she was irrevocably tied to a mate?
That never again would she desire another in her bed?
She told herself that it was a horrifying thought.
And she almost believed it.
“Salvatore seems disgustingly pleased with himself, and I have to admit Harley is content.”
His fingers traced the line of her jaw. “But you’re still haunted by our past?”
Haunted?
It sounded dramatic, but Sophia couldn’t deny it captured the memories that refused to leave her in peace.
“I was one of less than a dozen females capable of becoming pregnant,” she abruptly admitted.
He stilled. “A breeder.”
“Nice,” she muttered, oddly offended by the term used for those rare fertile females.
“Sorry.” He grimaced. “I never considered the burden you must have carried.”
It had been more than a burden. Without their usual powers, the Were females had not only become increasingly infertile, but they’d lost the ability to control their shifts during their pregnancies.
It had nearly been the end of purebloods.
“When a race is trying to survive, we must all do our part,” she said, doing her best to keep the lingering pain hidden.
Typically, Luc wasn’t fooled.
“And we all must bear the scars,” he said softly, something in his voice suggesting that he had a few unwelcome memories of his own.
“Yes.”
He studied her in silence, his fingers continuing to wreak havoc with her senses as they stroked along her cheek and then tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear.
“How many children did you lose?”
She flinched at the low question. “Hundreds.”
“Oh ... cara.”
Her eyes lowered, unable to bear the sympathy gleaming in the dark eyes.
“I swore I was done when Salvatore convinced me to try one more time.” Her gut knotted. She wanted to forget those days of being nothing more than a breeding machine, expected to try and carry a litter year after endless year. “He wanted to alter the DNA of my babies so they couldn’t shift and would be more likely to carry a child to full-term.”
“And spare them the pain you endured.”
Her lips twisted. “That was the plan.”
“And it worked.” There was an unmistakable pride in his voice. “The entire Were nation celebrated your four miraculous daughters.”
“Who were promptly stolen from the nursery,” she reminded him, unwilling to reveal her confusion of emotions when she’d manage to produce her daughters, only to have them disappear. The anger, the dread, the overriding fear that made her emotionally distance herself from the children whom she’d never been allowed to hold in her arms. “I spent the past thirty years searching for my daughters.”
“And now?”
“Now it’s ‘me time.’ ” She met his steady gaze with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “No responsibilities, no one depending on me, no one trying to control me. Got it?”
Luc got it.
He really did.
This female had spent her entire life with the fate of her people resting on her shoulders.
Was it any wonder she was so skeevy to maintain her independence?
Unfortunately she was in danger.
And even if he wasn’t plagued by an ever-increasing need to protect her, he would be bound by his duty to keep her safe.