Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) (18 page)

The doorbell rang, stopping her in mid-sentence, replacing exasperation with . . . not fear exactly, but trepidation. She believed Christian when he said he could defeat Anthony. But best-laid plans and all that. Accidents happened. People got lucky.

She couldn’t think of any other trite sayings. She turned to Christian who cupped her cheek in one big hand, his fingers spearing back into her hair, as he moved even closer. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Natalie noticed that Marc had come to his feet, and now stood just behind Christian, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m not worried about me,” she confessed.

“Then you’ve nothing to worry about. Answer the door, but don’t invite him in.”

“Should I get dressed first?”

Christian tilted his head, taking in her finger-combed hair, her makeup-free face, and the big robe which left it unclear how much, or how little, she had on underneath. Natalie felt a blush heat her cheeks. He smiled.

“No, you’re perfect, just as you are.”

She didn’t believe
that
, but figured he knew what he was doing. She tightened the sash on her robe, still wishing she’d used the time spent arguing with Christian to go upstairs and put on some clothes. A quick check of the peephole confirmed it was too late for that now. Anthony stood out there. Sucking a deep breath of courage, she opened the door, and was shocked to see that he was all alone. Other than when he was in his office, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d seen him without a bodyguard or two lurking close by. Maybe they were waiting in the big limo idling at the curb.

Or maybe Christian had been right, and Anthony’s intentions this evening had been something less than honorable, or even legal.

“Lord Anthony,” she said, sticking to formalities, as she dug down and managed a weak smile.

“Natalie,” he said warmly, but then he got a good look at her, with her makeup-free face, her barely brushed hair, and her robe. “Am I too early?”

“Anthony!” Christian’s voice came from behind her, and his arm dropped over her shoulders in a blatantly possessive gesture.

She hid her surprised reaction, just barely, but didn’t even try to stop the instinct that had her pushing back into Christian’s strength as rage lit up Anthony’s face.

“Duvall,” he growled. “What are you doing here?”

Christian didn’t answer Anthony’s question, turning his attention to Natalie instead. “
Ma chére,
go keep Marc company, would you?”

Natalie wanted to insist on being there for whatever was about to happen. After all, she’d been the one who’d set this whole thing up. The one who Anthony had no doubt revolting plans for tonight. Standing this close to him, she imagined she could feel tendrils of his thoughts trying to reach out and grab her, the way he’d attacked Cibor. But her mind had always been her strongest attribute, and there was no way he was getting in there. She pictured a wall around it, starting with stone blocks and reinforcing it with steel. And maybe those tendrils hadn’t been all in her imagination, because she thought she detected a flash of surprise in Anthony’s eyes, a moment before Christian’s arm tightened around her. He pulled her out of the doorway, then shifted to stand between her and Anthony. “Stay with Marc,
chére,
please.”

Natalie moved back. She had no argument with getting farther away from Anthony. But she wasn’t going to hide behind Marc either. This was her fight as much as Christian’s, and she wanted to be there for it.

Anthony had observed the whole exchange, his face darkening with rage. “Come here, Natalie,” he said harshly, with a whip of command in his voice that she could hear, even if she wasn’t inclined to obey. To Natalie, Anthony’s attempt to compel her was an interesting curiosity. Something she filed away to be researched later.

Christian’s reaction was completely different. It was like a match sparking tinder. His entire posture changed, as if he’d been holding back, and now all bets were off. Every muscle in his body tensed, and all traces of affability disappeared in an instant. Setting her firmly behind him, he faced down Anthony, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Behind her, Marc had come to attention at the same time, and he took her arm now, and carefully put himself between her and the two angry vampires.

“Stay the hell away from her, you sick fucker,” Christian growled, “or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Anthony made a scoffing noise. “Kill me? Empty words, Duvall. You don’t have what it takes.”

Christian stepped out of the townhouse and onto the porch, forcing Anthony to back up or be crushed. And he must have seen something more in Christian’s face, some vampire quality that she didn’t yet understand, because shock abruptly erased all traces of scorn from Anthony’s expression, and he nearly stumbled when he took an urgent step backward, away from Christian.

“The only reason you’re still breathing,
Lord
Anthony,” Christian snarled, “is because Raphael has claimed your death for himself. But push me a little harder, and I’ll forget all about the promise I made.”

Anthony paled even further as he backed down the walkway. “This isn’t over, Duvall,” he hissed. “Not for any of you. You have no idea what’s coming.”

Natalie pushed into the open doorway, shaking off Christian’s hand when he tried to stop her, and refusing to budge until Anthony’s limo was out of sight. She was shaking inside, coming down from the cascade of fight-or-flight hormones triggered by the confrontation. Christian pulled her out of the way and closed the door, and she locked down her emotions, refusing to wimp out and cry or, God forbid, start trembling like a leaf.

Christian put an arm over her shoulders, and she waited for him to give her an encouraging hug, and tell her it would all be okay, that he’d protect her. But instead, he used his arm to turn her in the direction of the stairs, and said, “Go get dressed.”

Natalie scowled. Bossy fucking vampire. But since she had no argument with putting on some clothes, she didn’t call him on it. This time.

“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.

“Home.”

CHRISTIAN CONFERRED briefly with Marc once they arrived at the house. There was work to be done, but most of it involved Marc’s talents, not his. They needed to find out as much as they could about the real situation in Mexico. Anthony’s parting shot might have been bluster, but it had held a ring of truth that he couldn’t ignore. Something more was coming, and they needed to figure out what it was. Christian considered calling Vincent to discuss the problem. They’d established something of a rapport in their previous brief conversation. But before he did that, he needed more information.

“I cracked Anthony’s system, but there’s nothing there,” Marc said, shaking his head. “Ten years ago, I could’ve walked right through his firewalls. But now everyone has security experts and closed networks, with no Internet access. Get me in the building, and I’ll have full access in no time.”

Christian snorted dismissively. “I don’t think Anthony’s going to be inviting us back anytime soon.”

“I’m not giving up yet. There are still a couple of trails I want to follow.”

“Better you than me,” Christian said, and slapped Marc on the shoulder before leaving him at the basement door and heading back to the kitchen, where he could hear Natalie moving around.

He was relieved to be able to turn the research over to Marc. He wasn’t in the mood to sit down at a desk and stare at a computer screen. He was altogether too energized, almost as if his skin would split from the pressure building inside him. It could have been the challenge, the fact that things were finally moving forward, but that wasn’t the real reason and he knew it. It was Natalie. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d heard her voice on the phone. Meeting her had only sharpened his desire. But even worse was the knowledge that he wouldn’t be satisfied with a quick night or two buried in her body. He wanted to keep her.

“I’m going for a swim,” he announced, ignoring Natalie’s look of surprise as he strode through the kitchen, yanking his sweater off as he walked. The pool had been one of the big selling points of this house for him. Swimming was the ultimate relaxation. Well, that and sex.

He glanced back as he slid the glass door open and flicked on the pool lights. “Are you coming?” he asked Natalie. She was standing on the other side of the kitchen, still wearing the hoodie she’d pulled on before leaving the townhouse, and looking confused.

“I don’t have a suit,” she protested.

Christian laughed. “Neither do I,” he said, and started to strip.

NATALIE FOLLOWED Christian outside just in time to catch his dive into the pool. Steam formed a translucent fog over the turquoise water, and a bare ripple of movement marked his progression across the pool. She took a few tentative steps closer to the pool’s edge, eager and yet reluctant to see Christian in all his naked glory. Even clothes couldn’t conceal the athletic perfection of his body, the breadth of his shoulders and chest, his strong legs and tight ass. She was desperate to see him in nothing but skin, but she was also terrified. She wasn’t used to feeling anything this intense for a man. She had a grinding need for him that would only be satisfied with sex. Sweaty, throbbing, groaning sex. Something she was pretty sure she’d never had before. Sure, she’d had sex a few times, but it had never been like this. Not like she was sure it would be with Christian.

He surfaced long enough to execute a perfect racing turn at the end of the pool, then disappeared again as he started his return lap. Natalie blinked in confusion. He was actually going to swim? She’d assumed it was just a way to get the two of them naked in a pool, but he was doing laps? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.

Blowing out a disgruntled breath, she figured she should at least take off some of her clothes. She was beginning to feel foolish standing there, clutching her hoodie around her like a terrified virgin.

She dropped the sweatshirt on the same chair where Christian had tossed his pants. Toeing off her Nikes and socks at the same time, she considered whether to go further. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, she wasn’t sure yet—she was still wearing her most unsexy underwear.

“Don’t be such a prude, Nat,” she muttered to herself. She turned her back to the pool—okay, maybe a little prudish—and pulled off her T-shirt and jeans, adding them to the pile of clothes. She shivered in the cool night air, and turned to eye the steam coming off the pool longingly. Even if she didn’t go in the water, it would be warmer at the pool’s edge. She glanced down at the boy shorts and sports bra she was wearing, and rolled her eyes. She was being stupid. Her underwear was less revealing than the bikini she normally wore to go swimming.

Moving over to the pool, she sat on the edge and lowered her legs into the water. It felt good, and the steam was just as warm as she’d thought it would be. In the middle of the pool, she could make out Christian’s blurry form as he continued his damned laps. For all the attention he was paying her, she might as well strip naked and dance under the stars. Laughing at herself, she braced her arms behind her and leaned back, but the sky was far too saturated with city lights to reveal any stars for her to dance under. She closed her eyes instead, and enjoyed the silky feeling of warm water against her legs, the faint heat of the steam on her face, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in days.

Which was why she screamed when two big hands slid up her calves a moment before Christian emerged on a warm wave that splashed half of her body and left her sitting in a puddle of cooling water.

She was still gasping, her heart racing, when he braced his forearms on either side of her thighs and grinned up at her.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asked, his legs treading slowly, keeping himself above the water with effortless ease.

Natalie stared. He was just as beautiful as she’d known he would be. Water sheeted off powerful shoulders and slid down the planes of his chest. His arms, next to her thighs, were corded with muscle, his hands a hair’s breadth away from her bare skin.

“Natalie?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as they reflected the underwater lights.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, fingering the wide strap of her bra nervously. “I’ve never . . .”

His eyebrows shot up. “Never been skinny dipping? Come on,
chére
, let’s expand your horizons.”

“Isn’t it cold?”

He moved closer, his fingers grazing her thighs for a moment before resting against her skin in a blaze of heat. “I won’t let you get cold,” he said quietly

Natalie’s gaze shot up to meet his eyes. There was no glint of humor anymore. There was nothing but naked desire. “Take it off,” he said, his dark voice a caress of sound in the steamy air.

Nerveless fingers struggled with the tight hooks on the front closure of her sports bra. He didn’t try to help her, didn’t move at all, except for his eyes, which followed her fumbling fingers with an intensity that made her hands shake even worse.

She felt a warm brush of something hot and wet, and looked down to see Christian kissing his way up her thigh, those strong fingers sliding to the inside of her knees to spread her legs. He lifted his eyes to hers again, as he insinuated himself between her thighs, powerful arms levering his body out the water as he kissed her fumbling fingers, first one hand, then the next, before sliding back into the water, and draping her legs over his shoulders.

Natalie blushed when he kissed the inside of her thigh, his mouth only inches away from her sex. She wondered if he could smell the arousal throbbing between her legs, the desire slicking her pussy.

“Natalie,” he growled, giving her fingers a meaningful glance where they’d frozen over the hooks of her bra clasp. His hands slid around to cup the curve of her ass, and a helpless noise escaped her throat when his fingers slipped beneath her underwear to dig into her bare cheeks, tugging her closer to the edge of the pool, bringing her eager pussy closer to his mouth. She closed her eyes against the sight of him. He was the very image of temptation whispering against her thighs, and she was abruptly driven by a desperate need to free herself from the confining bra. Her breasts felt suddenly too big, her nipples aching pearls of exquisite sensation that scraped against the tight cotton fabric with every breath.