Blood Secrets-Valorian 1 (13 page)

Laughing, she neared the carts, plucked a plump, ripe strawberry from the fruit tray, and took a bite. He couldn’t help but watch as the juice stained her lips crimson. He wanted to lean forward and trace the line of her sensuous mouth with his tongue.

“Oh God, this tastes heavenly,” she exclaimed as she collapsed onto the sofa. “I usually survive on coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.”

Enjoying her obvious pleasure, Caine wheeled the carts to the sofa so she could reach without standing. “Then this should just about kill you.” Chuckling, he joined her on the sofa, snatching a ripe piece of cantaloupe for himself. “I’m a tea and eggs on toast man myself. Anything that’s quick but gives me energy to last twenty-four hours or more.”

Popping the rest of the fruit into her mouth, she eyed him. “You seem like a tea guy.”

“Oh, so I’m pompous, uptight and cold, am I?”

Grabbing another strawberry, she said, “Hmm, more like reserved, refined and—” she paused in thought “—pensive.”

“Pretty words for the same thing, I think.”

Eve grabbed the plate of pancakes, poured syrup on them, and set them on her lap. “I don’t think you’re cold or pompous.”

“Uptight?” he asked as he dug into the scrambled eggs.

After she took a bite of pancake, she nodded, a wry smile forming on her lips. “Maybe a little.”

He smiled. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She took another healthy bite from her plate.

For the next half hour, they ate in silence, enjoying the piles of food that Caine had ordered. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a meal so much. He felt at ease with Eve. He didn’t have to project an air of power or authority. He could let down his guard a little and relax. She seemed to feel the same. He could sense her easiness with him. That pleased him greatly.

After they were done devouring the food, they both leaned back against the sofa, contented. Eve turned to look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much. Not since I was a kid.”

“Me, either. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much.”

She smiled at him, but he could tell she was pondering over something she wanted to ask him. “You can ask me,” he said.

“What?”

“Whatever it is that is causing those lines creasing your brow.”

She rubbed at the spot Caine indicated. “How old are you exactly?”

“I’ve been a vampire for two-hundred and fifty-four years.” He sighed, resting his head back on the sofa cushions, mimicking her position. “But I was born in 1711.”

She stared at him for a long while. He wished he could read her mind and find out what she was thinking. For the first time in so long he could barely remember, he worried what another person thought of him.

“You look pretty good for being close to three-hundred. Hardly a wrinkle in sight.”

He laughed. “Thank you. It’s the coenzyme Q10 I take every day.”

She joined him in the laughter. It felt good to laugh. Caine had always believed that it was a person’s ability to laugh even in the direst circumstances that kept them sane.

“What’s it like?” she asked after her laughter had faded. “How often do you need to—”

“Feed?”

She nodded.

“I take blood once a week. I don’t drink from a person anymore. I get mine straight from a bottle. O positive packaged and shipped to a Necropolis grocery store just up the street from where I live.” He put his feet up on the coffee table as he continued to talk.

“Vampires have a high pain tolerance, have superior strength and reflexes and hearing, prefer the dark to the light, although it doesn’t burn us as portrayed in movies and books.” He put his arm into sunlight streaming through the balcony doors. “You see?” He set his arm down again at his side. “We can eat garlic, wear silver and worship at any church, and we live long, long lives. We’re not immortal. We can die. It just takes a lot more to keep us dead.”

“Sounds almost idyllic.”

He turned his head and met her gaze. He wanted her to know that it was not as perfect as it seemed. “The hardest part is seeing the people you’ve come to love die long before you’ll ever see the inside of a grave. I have suffered many losses in my life. Love is not easy.”

She reached across the sofa and touched his arm, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how truly lonely that must be.”

She released her hold and drew back her hand. Caine wanted to reach out, grasp it and set it back on his arm. A tingly sensation had started where she had touched him. He wanted that feeling to spread through his whole body.

“You never married?”

He turned his head and looked up at the ceiling, not wanting Eve to spy the pain in his eyes. “Once. Long ago.”

Sensing he didn’t want to discuss it, Eve remained silent. He wanted to thank her for that, but he too stayed quiet, words suddenly stuck in his throat. It had been over seventy years since the death of his wife, Amanda, but the pain still lingered inside, shielding his heart from all emotion. Closing his eyes, he sighed, not quite ready to release that barrier.

Beside him, he could feel Eve’s uncertainty from his silence. He imagined that she was thinking hard about his reasons, deducing all manner of motives. Regret washed over him that he couldn’t yet give them to her.

Turning his head, he opened his eyes and looked at her. She, too, had her head resting on the back of the sofa, and her eyes were closed. Her face was serene; the lines usually furrowing her brow were gone. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, battling the urge to touch her there. To feel the steady rhythm of her heart.

Her lips twitched at the sides. Could she feel him staring at her? “I’m not sleeping. I just want to rest my eyes a moment.”

“Okay,” he answered.

“Will you talk to me, so I don’t drift off?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. How about the lab? Tell me how you became the chief.”

He smiled, realizing it was so like Eve to want to know about the lab, about work, rather than ask about something personal. In the short time he’d known her, he’d found that she was very career driven, she lived the job.

Just as he did.

“I became chief because no one else wanted to,” he started. “I guess it came from necessity at first. We needed a lab, I had the money to fund it, then the mistress asked me if I wanted a job.”

She chuckled at that. “Really? I think you’re making that up.”

“It’s the truth.” He smiled to himself.

She laughed. It was a deep sexy giggle that had his blood pumping. He knew she wasn’t trying to entice him, but that was exactly what was happening. He turned his head and looked up at the ceiling again, willing away the thoughts that invaded his mind.

“Tell me about the baron. What’s up between you two?”

“Ah, yes, Laal Bask. Well, what can I say about him that would not include insults?” he remarked, wanting to hear her laugh again. “He thinks I want his job. Which I don’t. I’m not a politician. I don’t think I would work with Mistress Ankara very well. She’s worse than he is. Ambitious as hell and manipulative. She’d sell her soul for a higher position in politics. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s schmoozing with your Captain Morales in hopes she can somehow gain some clout with human politicians.” He turned toward her again and his voice faded off.

She was sound asleep.

His lips twitched as he watched her. She looked so peaceful, like an angel. Reaching across the sofa, he captured a stray strand of silky hair in his fingers. He loved the feel of it against his skin. So soft, so sleek. He brushed it from her brow. She stirred under his brief touch and he wondered how she would react if he touched her again, in lower, more intimate places.

Gritting his teeth, he snatched his hand back and let it fall at his side. He had better stop thinking of her in those terms. It was stupid and dangerous. Nothing good could come of it. Didn’t he already learn that lesson once long ago?

Closing his eyes, he tried to still his mind and relax. But it was impossible, not with Eve just a few feet away, her tantalizing scent clouding his mind and boiling his blood. His body hardened at the thought of her soft and pliant, open to him.

In his mind, he saw her naked and writhing on the sofa, her legs spread wide inviting him to taste, to take. He wanted to. More than he wanted to take in his next breath, he wanted to devour her, to possess her completely. The thought of her long shapely legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her slick core nearly drove him mad. He had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from fulfilling his fantasies. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth.

Opening his eyes, he stared down at his clenched hands. They itched to reach over and touch her. To run his fingertips over her warm bare skin and brand her as his own.

Gritting his teeth again, he stood up. He needed to get out of the room before he did something they’d both regret.

He couldn’t be held accountable for his thoughts, but he was for his actions. He had come too far with his training to throw it away in a moment of weakness.

Although for Eve, for this woman, it might be worth it.

Reaching down, he had to touch her face one more time. Trailing a finger over her cheek, he rubbed it across her lips until they parted in an unconscious sigh. Oh, how he wished for that sound in his ear as he coaxed it from her with the press of his fingers on her body, at her center. How wet would she be for him?

Cursing, he pulled his hand away, but couldn’t seem to move from his spot. He stared down at her. She was too much of a temptation. He couldn’t resist her any longer.

T ake me. I’m yours.

Sighing, Eve opened her arms and enveloped Caine, pulling him tight to her body. His heat seared her even through her clothing. Or was it that she was burning from the inside out? Raging with desire, she couldn’t tell where one heated sensation started and where the other ended. Was it him, or her? Together they were a raging inferno.

Parting her lips, she invited him to kiss her. She wanted to experience the same intensity she had that night in the alley. And she didn’t want it to stop this time. There was nothing blocking them. No one interrupting, no one watching. It was just him and her, alone together. Even if only for a few hours, they could finally let down their guards and revel in the powerful feelings that had constantly swirled around them since the moment they’d met.

He found her mouth, sliding his tongue over her lips and between them. Darting in and out playfully, he taunted and teased them both with his tongue and teeth and nipping at her bottom lip. She loved the feel of his lips on hers, and the way he growled low under his breath when he swept his tongue over hers and she reciprocated in kind.

She wondered what it would take to make him growl out loud, like an animal.

She could feel his restraint bubbling just under the surface of his desire. She knew he held back. That he pulled himself away from doing and taking what he truly wanted. And she wished he’d let go. She wanted to scream to him that she would not break, that she was strong enough to handle it.

But when she stared up into the bright beam of his eyes, and felt the muscles in his arms and legs quiver with barely controlled hunger, she couldn’t be too sure. Sometimes, he looked like a man just scarcely holding onto his humanity.

Her hands raced over him, searching. She needed to touch him, to feel the heat of his body beneath her palms. Her fingers played over the buttons of his dress shirt. One by one, she popped them open, unconcerned with whether they broke off or not. Finally, she was able to part the cotton and streak her hands over his chest. His skin was soft and smooth. But hard as granite underneath.

Playing the tips of her fingers over his nipples, she reveled in the way he gasped and groaned into her mouth. She swallowed them down while she continued to run her hands over his muscles and rake her nails over his skin.

With his hands in her hair, he tilted her head up and nibbled on her chin. She loved the way his fangs scraped her skin. Shivers of excitement rushed through her as she pondered the reasons why. It was like flirting with danger, dangling a string in front of a cat, standing on a ledge with a thirty-foot drop and no rope to speak of. She didn’t really want him to bite her, at least not consciously. But there was definitely a subconscious thrill to know that he could.

She had read that a vampire bite could be euphoric, sending the person into a state of rapturous pleasure beyond imagination. Was she brave enough to suggest it? Would he bow to her request?

Tingles of desire raced over her as his lips traveled lower, his tongue trailing circles over her throat. He gently bit at her, teasing. But when he glanced up into her eyes, she could see what he was asking, what he wanted, and he wasn’t playing.

Swallowing down the urge to gasp, Eve ran her hands up and down his body, her fingers finding the button of his trousers. As she undid it, Caine nipped at her neck again. His fangs raked over her skin.

This time she did gasp as waves of lush pleasure lapped at her. An ache, deep and intense, throbbed at her center. There was only one thing that could ease her torment. Only one thing she wanted, more than anything before. Caine. She wanted, needed him deep inside her. Only then could she ease the ache of her body, heart and soul.

Surrender was only seconds away. She was his completely.

When she glanced down at him, she saw that he was already naked, the hard length of him was full and arched toward her. When had she stripped him of his clothes? Looking down at herself, she too was completely unclothed. Had she blacked out?

She could feel the sofa at her back as Caine pressed down on her. Her legs were spread around him. She didn’t remember doing that. In her fervor, did she lose sight of herself?

Heat spread over her like a flash fire. Her breath was coming fast, too fast. She could barely take in air.

Caine’s fingers found their way down her belly, over the mound of her sex and into her slick folds. Arching her back, she moaned when he slid his fingers into her, testing her, teasing her sensitive nerves.