Dark Peril (27 page)

“I don’t know how to do this, Dominic.” There was despair in her voice. “I can’t talk to you.” She was beginning to have the urge to run—and she’d never run from anything in her life.

“You had no trouble talking to me in our dreams.”

He was relentless. And calm. She had the urge to smack him. This wasn’t about a dream. “You weren’t real then. I could tell you anything and there weren’t . . .” She trailed off trying to find the right word. “Repercussions. You have to know it’s different. Doesn’t it feel different to you?” She couldn’t get the pleading tone out of her voice. She wanted him to understand.

“Completely different,” he agreed. “Better. I feel emotions I have not felt in hundreds of years. I know what love is. I know what it is to be jealous and to be happy. I can look at my woman and feel the demands of my body. I welcome even the possibility of heartache. I know what it is to
not
feel, Solange, and I will take emotion and the risks that come with that ability.”

She lifted her chin. She knew her eyes had gone cat, but she couldn’t help the stir of anger at the implied reprimand. “I’ve felt too much all my life, Dominic. Sorrow. Heartache. Rage. Whether you want to admit it or not, it’s a risk.”

He held his arms out to his sides, his gaze steady. “Then you have to decide for yourself whether I am worth the risk.”

Her breath came out in a long hiss. “You’re backing me into a corner. I’m a fighter. I don’t like being cornered.”

Those brilliant eyes never left her face. He shook his head. “You are trying to find a reason to run because you’re afraid, Solange. Why would you be afraid of me?”

“Because,” she said, feeling desperate. “I don’t know what to do.” The moment the words were out, she wanted to take them back. She sounded so silly. She was a grown woman and she should be able to handle a simple conversation with a man, but that was the trouble. She’d never been a woman. She didn’t know how to be. She knew she could not be the woman he wanted and sooner or later he’d walk away from her.

She would be shattered. Completely and utterly broken. It was too much of a risk. She could be a coward in this one instance, because it was self-preservation. She waited for his disgust, for him to simply disappear as Carpathians could.

Dominic stepped forward and framed her face, forcing her gaze to meet his. “All you have to do,
kessake
, is ask me to take us back to our lair—our home. Is that really so difficult?”

He used that voice, the one that crept inside and wrapped around her heart, squeezing until she wanted to cry. She wanted him so much. She wanted to belong to him. How could she ever believe she was worthy of him? That he would really choose her over all the women he could have? How could he love a woman like her?

He didn’t prompt her again and she knew he wouldn’t. He would just stand there until she acquiesced. She knew he could hear her heart pounding. She tasted fear in her mouth. Why wasn’t this easy? She took a breath. Let it out.

“Will you take us home, Dominic?” With that one sentence, she risked everything she was or would ever be.

The approval in his eyes sent heat rushing through her body. She was so lost in him already. It didn’t matter what happened in the future. It was already too late for her, she could tell by her reaction to that look on his face. She wanted to please him when she’d never cared about pleasing anyone. And that told her it was far too late for her.

11

When you meet me,
You complete me.
You bring me back to life again.

DOMINIC TO SOLANGE

T
he cavern was lit with torches, sending a soft glow dancing over the ceiling. Spiderwebs of glittering silver adorned the walls in various patterns. Woven rugs lay on the floor and two high-backed, overstuffed armchairs sat on either side of a small table. A basket of fresh fruit looked inviting on the table beside a platter with cheese and bread on it. Solange looked around at the small enhancements Dominic had added to her sanctuary. The food made her stomach growl, but she was too busy looking at the shimmering pool of water in the rock basin.

The water glowed in the middle with a flickering orange-red flame. The colors made the water seem even more inviting, and she walked over to the pool to give herself time to collect her thoughts. She had made the decision to see this through, now she just had to figure out how to maneuver her way through the pitfalls. If only he weren’t so sexy. Or such a good warrior. If she could find a balance with him she could handle this.

“Do you like the changes?” he asked.

She nodded. “Very much.” He hadn’t touched anything of hers, simply added to what she already had, and that made her feel a little better. She wanted him to like the few things she’d gathered over the years.

“How in the world do you make the water look like there’s a flame inside of it?” She turned to face him and jumped when her body nearly bumped against his.

He was so close. Silent. And his scent didn’t reach her until he chose. She took a breath and breathed him into her lungs. His body heat surrounded her. He was close enough that the heavy erection brushed her stomach. She could barely force herself to look up his tall body, her gaze resting on his tempting mouth, not daring to go any higher to see the look in his eyes.

Her body reacted to him, going soft and pliant, her nerve endings close to the surface. She
never
reacted physically to men, not even when her cat was in heat. The need rode her hard, her cat feeding her drive to procreate, but the moment she was near a man, she just couldn’t feel physically ready. Not even her snarling, edgy cat could overcome her distaste for males. But with Dominic, she couldn’t seem to keep her raging hormones under control.

She knew he was aware of her body’s reaction, just as she was aware of his, but somehow her lack of control embarrassed her. Wanting a mate was perfectly natural, yet . . .

“You are so hard on yourself,” he said.

His voice was that sexy blend that only added to her growing desire. She swallowed hard. “I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Is that really so bad?” His fingers skimmed down her hair, tucked a strand behind her ear with exquisite gentleness. “Do you have to be perfect at all times? I would imagine that would be rather wearying.”

The pad of his finger traced over her mouth, brushed back and forth until she parted her lips. He pushed inside her mouth and instinctively she closed her lips around his finger, her tongue flicking over it, sucking before she could stop herself. Hot color swept into her face and she tried to turn her head, but his hand spanned her throat, holding her still, his head slightly thrown back as if he was enjoying the sensation of her mouth around his finger. She stroked along his knuckle with her tongue, and followed as he slowly withdrew, so that she nibbled at the pad of his finger before he went back to tracing her lips.

“Do you, Solange? Do you have to be perfect all the time?”

“Of course not.” She could barely speak.

“Only with me then.” He bent his head and brushed his mouth across hers.

The shocking jolt slammed through her body with the force of a lightning bolt. His touch had been so light, yet a fireball shot through her to settle deep in her core.

“You want to please me.” He made it a statement.

She nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid he would move. Afraid he wouldn’t move.

“That is as it should be. Has it occurred to you that I wish to please you?”

She glanced up, her gaze colliding with his. He looked so powerful. A predator looming over prey. She was jaguar and not afraid of anything—with the exception of her lifemate—and wasn’t that insane?

Lifemate.
She tasted the word.

“Solange.” He refused to allow her to look away from him. “When I ask a question, I require an answer.”

The color in her face went from pink to crimson. “Yes, I’m sorry. It has occurred to me. It’s just difficult to believe. I’ll get used to it, though.”
Maybe.
“I just need a little time.”

He smiled at her, that slow, sexy, heart-melting smile that she seemed to feel all the way to her toes. She loved to see that look on his face. The light in his eyes.

“That was not so difficult, was it? To tell me how you feel? How will I please you if you do not tell me the things you need?”

He brushed a kiss over her mouth again. Her lips trembled in response. The fireball in her core radiated so much heat she was afraid she might spontaneously combust. Her feminine channel burned for him, and between her legs she could feel the hot dampness spreading.

“I have put several items of clothing in the small alcove for you. It would please me greatly if, when we are alone, you would wear one for me.”

All over again her heart began to accelerate. Her pulse beat frantically, drawing his attention. He swept the hair from her neck and leaned toward her. She went absolutely still. His breath was warm against her skin. A shudder of desire started a wave of tremors. She rubbed her hands down her jean-clad thighs—her armor.

Solange had to moisten her lips twice before she could get a word out and then it was a croak. “Where?”

He turned and gestured toward the little alcove where she had stashed extra clothes and weapons. Needing to put space between them, she forced her trembling legs to walk across to the small grotto arched with rock where she could hide her burning face from him. There was a full-length mirror that hadn’t been there before. She could see the shock and excitement on her face. Her eyes were bright, almost emerald green. Her breath was ragged, drawing attention to her full breasts—more than full. She wasn’t fashionably lean, for all the exercise she got. She was built—sturdy. Compact and sturdy.

Solange was grateful he hadn’t followed her. She felt overwhelmed by him. Somehow he had managed to put a small closet together to hang several items in a corner. She touched the fabric of the nearest long dress. At least she thought it was a dress or some kind of gown. It was long, and she bet it fit perfectly, but it was a dress—and she didn’t even own dresses. Made of black stretch lace, it was formfitting at the top, with spaghetti straps. The front dropped scandalously short, just barely covering the vee between her legs, and the back was a long train that reached her ankles. The lace was utterly sheer. Transparent. Only a few darker webs of fabric tried to hide anything, and it was more teasing than hiding. If she put the thing on, her curvy body would be on display. There were no panties or bra.

She cleared her throat. “You want me to wear this?”

“When we are alone together.”

That same soft, compelling voice. No demands. It would be her decision. But he had said this would please him. Did she want to do this for him? Could she? Her fingers touched the lace with a kind of reverence. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could pull it off, but . . .

Solange pulled the next one out to see if maybe that one would give her more confidence. This was a duster, a shimmering metallic red that fell all the way to the floor. At first she breathed a sigh of relief, but as she studied it, she realized the fabric stretched and would fit like a glove over her breasts, would cinch tightly at her waist and flare to the floor with the front completely open from the waist down. A generous portion of her breasts would be revealed by the V-neck. She stepped back, swallowing hard.

“Have you heard of underwear?” She dared to ask because she couldn’t see him.

“I would like my woman available to me when we are alone,” he replied in that same calm voice. But the way his tone lowered when he said
available to me
sent another wave of arousal crashing through her.

She took a breath and looked at the next dress. This time she was more prepared, but still shocked when she saw the dress—if it could be called that. This was nothing but film and straps, a micromini halter dress with a see-through front just barely there and the back was nothing but pieces of thin strips all the way down, hugging the form so the very edges of her bottom would peek out with every step. There was more skin than material down the back.

“I’ve never worn anything like this in my life. I’ve never even seen such a thing.”

“You are not comfortable with your body,
kessake
. Dressing this way will not only please me, but it will make you very aware of how sexy you really are.”

She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at the emerald green dress. Again, it was very short. Made to hug her curvy figure and show it off, the material stretched over and clung to skin. This one also had spaghetti straps, scooped low in the front. A vee of straps laddered down the dress both in the front and back, revealing bare skin. Most of her chest would be bare, and what was covered could be clearly seen through the thin fabric. Due to the straps the dress was as open in the front as it was in the back.

She frowned at herself in the mirror. “I’ve been in a battle. I need to . . .”

“Bathe? The water is hot. And then you can put on your choice and come eat.”

She shivered. Another bath in front of him. But if she could do that, then surely she could wear one of his dresses.

She forced herself to pull off her shirt. At once she caught sight of herself in the large, full-length mirror. Her breasts were full, high, and her nipples peaked in the cool of the cavern. Her hair was wild and with her tilted cat’s eyes, she looked . . . exotic . . . if she didn’t look too harshly at herself. She’d never been so aware of herself as a female—and that was it, that was the problem, she realized with a gasp. Dominic Dragonseeker made her
feel
completely, utterly, absolutely feminine when she was alone with him.

She peeled off her jeans and stared at her body. She was short, but she had an hourglass figure. Juliette had once described her as a “pocket Venus” and she’d looked it up. To her shock, the description had been one of a voluptuous, beautiful woman. Well, she wasn’t beautiful, but she was definitely voluptuous.