Desire the Night (20 page)

Gideon shook his head as they left the store. “It took you over an hour to pick out some jeans and sweaters, and less than thirty minutes to buy a wedding dress?”

“I loved the first one I tried on. What was the point in going through a dozen more?”

“None, I guess. Next stop, Las Vegas.”

Kay knew she looked like a tourist, but she couldn’t help staring as Gideon led the way toward one of the casinos. She had heard about Vegas; she had seen pictures online and on TV and in movies, but the real thing was amazing. Cars, taxis, campers, and RVs crowded the streets; the sidewalks were thronged with people, many of them tipsy, and all of them apparently having the time of their lives. She saw men and women in shorts and flip-flops, men in suits and ties, women in dresses and heels, and everything in between.

The hotel lobby was lavishly appointed. Imported carpets muted her footsteps. Sofas and chairs covered in plush velvet vied for space with low tables, potted palm trees, and exotic statues. The whole place reeked of opulent decadence.

The clerk at the desk informed Gideon that there were no vacancies; nevertheless, five minutes later they were checking into a luxury suite on the top floor.

“How did you do that?” Kay asked. “He said every room was either booked or reserved.”

“A little mind control, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” she muttered under her breath. “Just a little mind control.” With a shake of her head, she draped her wedding gown over the back of a chair. “Now what?”

“We need to get to the marriage license bureau over on Clark.”

“I didn’t even think about a license,” Kay said, glancing at her watch. “Isn’t the office closed by now? It’s after nine.”

“Honey, everything is open late in Vegas, including the license bureau. They call New York the city that never sleeps, but the title really belongs to Vegas. Are you ready? Then let’s go.”

Getting a license was remarkably easy. No blood tests were required. Since Kay didn’t have any identification with her, Gideon performed another bit of mind magic to convince the clerk that he had seen her ID. Gideon showed the man his driver’s license, handed over sixty dollars cash, and the clerk handed them a marriage license good for one year from the date of issue.

“I wish I had that mind control thing,” Kay remarked when they returned to their room.

“Comes in handy, that’s for sure.”

Kay kicked off her shoes. “Since there’s no hurry, I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay.”

“Did you buy something to wear to the wedding?”

“Of course,” he said with a wink. “What do you think’s in that garment bag hanging on the door?”

She smiled at him as she picked up her wedding gown and headed for the bedroom. “I won’t be long.”

Gideon dropped into an overstuffed chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Kay in the bedroom, getting undressed, stepping into the shower. If it hadn’t been so late, he would have joined her, but there wasn’t time, not if they were going to be married tonight. It was already after eleven. And he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his new bride before the sun came up.

Just when he was about to go in and tell her to get a move on, she stepped out of the bedroom. Gideon whistled softly. If she had tried on a hundred dresses, she couldn’t have chosen a better one. The neckline was square, the skirt long and full and sprinkled with rhinestones that reflected the light when she moved. In all his life, he had never seen anything more beautiful than Kay in her wedding gown. She wore her hair down; it fell over her shoulders like a river of ebony silk beneath the shoulder-length veil.

“Thank you,” she murmured, pleased by the open admiration in his eyes.

“Thank
you
.” Grabbing the garment bag that held his tux, he went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Kay paced the floor, thoughts sifting through her mind like sand in an hourglass. She was going to marry Gideon. Sooner or later, her father would find out. What would he say? Worse, what would he do? Was she making a mistake? Or would this act of defiance convince her father once and for all that she had a mind and will of her own?

Her troublesome thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Gideon stepped out of the bedroom. The well-cut black jacket and trousers emphasized his broad shoulders and long legs. The coat and pants fit him as though they had been hand-tailored. No doubt about it, he had been born to wear a tux. She grinned inwardly. She could hardly wait to get him out of it!

After a quick check on Gideon’s cell phone, they decided to get married in the Victorian Chapel at the Chapel of the Flowers. The room was adorned with bronze-colored velvet draperies, crystal chandeliers, beige marble floors, and mahogany pews.

The ceremony was traditional, yet Kay was sure she had never heard more beautiful words in her life as she promised to be Gideon’s lawfully wedded wife, to love him for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as she lived.

She felt a moment of regret when it came time to exchange rings, because they didn’t have any. But, to her surprise, Gideon pulled a thick gold band from his pants’ pocket and slipped it on her finger.

A moment later, she was his lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse.

Murmuring, “I’ll love you forever,” he drew her into his embrace and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss filled with the promise of eternity.

Swinging Kay into his arms, Gideon unlocked the door to their hotel suite and carried her over the threshold.

“Alone at last,” he murmured as he slowly lowered her feet to the floor. His body reacted as expected at her nearness. “So, Mrs. Marquet,” he drawled. “What would you like to do now?”

“Gosh, I don’t know,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Maybe paint my nails or wash my hair?”

He lifted one brow, his hands sliding up and down her sides, his palms skimming her breasts. “Now, tell me what you really want, wife.”

“You,” she said, all humor gone. “Here, now. Inside me.”

“No sooner said than done,” he replied, and in an instant, she was lying in bed beside him, with nothing between them but desire as he kissed and caressed every inch of her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

She moaned in an agony of wanting, sighed as he rose over her, his dark eyes alight with an inner fire as his body blended into hers, two incomplete halves now and forever one.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt his fangs at her throat. A mere taste was all he took and yet it amplified her pleasure a hundredfold. Each touch was like silken fire on her skin, each caress unlike any that had come before. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, even as he knew how to please her. Each kiss, each bold stroke carried her past pleasure, past bliss, to nirvana. She held him close, closer, her nails raking his back.

She cried his name as ripples of ecstasy shuddered through her, leaving her sated and spent and complete as never before.

Holding Kay against him, Gideon rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, holding her close while their breathing returned to normal and their bodies cooled. He had been alone for centuries but now, seeing the love in Kay’s eyes, he knew that whatever the future held for the two of them, he would never be alone again.

Chapter 25

Jaw clenched, his thoughts churning with malice, Victor Rinaldi paced up and down the length of the driveway. Try as they might, threaten as they would, the witch refused to tell him or his father why she had been in the compound, who had taken Kiya, or where they might have gone.

Kiya. Damn the girl. She was more trouble than she was worth. Almost. If she wasn’t an integral part of his plans, he would consider himself well rid of her. But marrying the Shadow Pack heir was the only way to assure a lasting bond between the two packs. The only way he could one day take over leadership of Alissano’s pack, and his own, as well.

He slammed his fist against a tree. He was tired of being a civilized werewolf, tired of hiding his true nature, tired of pretending he was content to hunt rabbits and deer when he hungered for human flesh, thirsted for human blood.

The Alpha of the Shadow Pack and his own Alpha had grown soft, almost as if they had forgotten that werewolves were superior to all other forms of life. In the old days, werewolves had been feared, and rightly so. The ancients had sacrificed their young to his kind—the loss of a few to save the many. But in this time and place, humankind no longer believed in the supernatural. Of course, the fault didn’t just lie with the werewolves. Vampires and witches had also disguised their true natures, walking undetected among mortals, lulling humankind into a false sense of security.

He had never understood why. There wasn’t a werewolf, vampire, or a witch alive who wasn’t smarter, faster, or more powerful than any human who had ever walked the earth, and yet the whole supernatural community pretended to be what they weren’t.

But he intended to change all that. It would take a little time, a little patience, and a good deal of planning, but he would do it, or die trying. Once Kiya was his wife and her pack had accepted him as one of their own, he would arrange for her and her father to meet with an unfortunate, fatal accident, at which time he would step in and assume the role of Alpha. And then, after a suitable amount of time, he would dispatch his own father and in so doing, become Alpha of both packs. United under one leader, they would be invincible. Other packs would follow his lead and his kind would take their rightful place in the world.

He smiled as he envisioned the kind of life he yearned for. When he was Alpha, he would claim the woman he truly desired. Selene was a full-blooded werewolf, far more suited to be his mate than Alissano’s half-breed daughter. With Selene at his side, he and his kind would be able to live the life they were meant to live. Humans would quickly learn they were no longer at the top of the food chain.

But first, he had to find a way to make that damn witch tell him what she knew.

Verah stood against the wall, her hands bound behind her back, her expression impassive as the Alpha’s son strutted back and forth in front of her.

She had been stunned by their ability to render her powerless. How had they known that binding her hands with rope braided with sprigs of rowan would negate her powers? She had spent hours turning it over in her mind, finally concluding that being supernatural creatures with weaknesses of their own, they had most likely studied the strengths and weaknesses of vampires and witches, searching for ways to subdue their enemies for just such an occasion as this.

Few people these days were aware that rowan wood had often been used by druids for staves. Its branches had been used by people of old for dowsing rods and magic wands. Some believed rowan protected homes from lightning; others held to the belief that it could keep the dead from rising. An ancient legend claimed the Devil had hanged his mother from a rowan tree.

Verah yawned in the boy’s face when he threatened her life again. Insolent pup, she thought scornfully, so full of himself, so certain he had the upper hand.

Which, at the moment, he did. But she was counting on the fact that he needed her alive to obtain what he desired.

Face mottled with rage, he slapped her, once, twice, three times. The sound of his hand striking her echoed like gunshots off the stone walls.

“There will be no food for you, no water, no rest, until you answer my questions!”

Cheeks burning from the force of his blows, she shook her head and repeated the answer that had made him so angry. “I cannot help you.”

He could threaten her until he was blue in the face, beat her until she was too weak to stand, but she would never tell him what he wanted to know. She needed the werewolf girl for her own ends. As for the son of the Green Mountain Pack’s Alpha, he could go straight to hell. And when she escaped from this place, as she surely would, she intended to send him there.

He stared at her for several minutes, his frustration a palpable presence in the room, and then he spun on his heel and stormed out the door.

Verah exhaled a sigh of relief. Yesterday, he had quizzed and questioned her for hours.

Grateful for a reprieve, she was about to sink down on the floor when the door flew open and her tormentor stepped inside carrying a covered box.

Verah gasped when Victor removed the cover, revealing a cat carrier.

Rama meowed loudly when he saw his mistress.

“You will tell me what I want to know, now,” Victor said, “or I will slit the cat’s throat and drink its blood.”

Chapter 26

It was midafternoon when Kay woke. Happiness welled inside her when she saw Gideon sleeping beside her. So, it hadn’t been a dream, after all. She was really Gideon’s wife and nothing would ever be the same again.

Last night had been beyond wonderful, beyond anything she had ever imagined. She glanced at her watch, willing the hours and minutes until nightfall to pass quickly so she could be in her husband’s arms again, taste his kisses, feel the hard masculine length of his amazing body pressed intimately against her own. Who would have thought that a chance meeting in the most unlikely of places would turn out so well? Or that a half-breed werewolf would fall hopelessly, helplessly, in love with a centuries-old vampire? Or that she could be this happy?

Or this hungry.

She kissed Gideon on the cheek, then slid out of bed. Closing the door behind her, she padded naked and barefooted into the living room and called room service. Certain that she would need all her strength for another bout of lovemaking with Gideon when he awoke, she ordered the biggest breakfast the hotel had to offer, then sat back, wriggling her feet in the thick carpet and smiling as she anticipated the night to come.

After breakfast, she dressed and went downstairs to try her hand at the slot machines. Vegas in the daytime wasn’t nearly as bright, loud, crowded, or exciting as it was after dark.