Midnight (9 page)

She nodded. There was no sense denying how she felt. She
wanted him here, he wanted to be here. Whatever problems they had with each
other, they didn’t extend into the bedroom.

That was a good thing, because she’d never met a man who
could make her come so hard and yet not act like he was king of the world. She
hated to admit it, but the conflict made things interesting.

She’d had so much conflict growing up that she’d started to
thrive on it. The past couple of years she hadn’t had much. Everyone in her
life went out of their way to agree with what she said. Well, they had up until
the whole porn movie bit. She had started to miss the tension, in some sick and
demented way. With Marco, there was conflict abounding in spades. She enjoyed
it a lot more than she’d ever tell him.

He nipped her shoulder as he settled her into the mattress.
She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head. Not even close. She was burning up.

Every nerve in her body felt scorched, and she was afraid
she would never recover. She felt the sting of Marco’s fangs at the same time
she felt his cock push into her cunt. The sensations drove her over the edge
into another shattering climax. There was something about those teeth piercing
her skin…she couldn’t describe it, but the pleasure was unmatched by anything
she’d ever experienced.

She clung to him helplessly, her entire body quivering. The
tremors washed over her, made more intense by the feeling of his hard shaft
sliding in and out of her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug
her heels into his buttocks, trying to draw him even closer. He responded with
a growl, lifting her rear with his hand and thrusting even deeper.

His muscles tensed and bunched under her hands and his
suckling at her throat grew harder. She tilted her chin as high as she could,
letting him take what he wanted. Too soon, he stopped. He released her neck,
trailing a path of open mouthed kisses from her throat to her collarbone, and
finally to her breasts. He nipped the sensitive skin gently before taking one
distended nipple into his mouth.

She moaned as the feel of his hot, wet mouth sent her into a
series of soft, tiny climaxes that only made her burn for more. Her inner
muscles clenched him tightly as he thrust deeply inside her. The tips of his
fangs scraped over her nipple and along the sides of her breast until she was
one big bundle of quaking nerves, a time bomb set to go off at the slightest
touch. She let her head roll back on the pillow to enjoy the ride.

Marco’s thrusts grew quicker and more erratic. He was no
longer gentle, his body ramming hers with force. She threaded her hands through
his hair and pulled him closer for a kiss. The lingering taste of her blood in
his mouth should have turned her off. It didn’t.

It made her hotter instead. She was on fire. She was on the
brink of what promised to be another earth-shattering climax, and all it would
take was one stroke at just the right angle to do it. She shifted her hips a
little and her world exploded. Marco came with her, his mouth leaving hers as a
guttural cry escaped his lips.

He held his weight off of her, supporting himself on his
elbows. She could feel him shaking above her and she tried to pull him on top
of her. He resisted. He rolled to his back, bringing her with him and tucking
her against his chest. His heart was pounding as hard as hers. He stroked her
hair gently and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I think I took too much.” He sighed audibly. “I should have
been more careful. I could have really hurt you this time.”

“Don’t be silly. I feel fine.” But even as she said it, she
felt a little light-headed. It was probably just his suggestion that did it. He
hadn’t fed for long.

“You won’t later.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her
ear and kissed the top of her head. “I’m not supposed to feel this way with
you.”

What was
that
supposed to mean? “Why not?”

He didn’t answer. She looked up at him. His eyes were
closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. She decided not to ruin the afterglow
and push it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she settled
against him. He wanted to stay tonight, fine. But in the morning he was going
to have some talking to do. When they woke up and the euphoria was gone, she
could interrogate him to her heart’s content. For now, she’d back off. Who
knows, maybe for once he’d decide to tell her something on his own, without her
needling him first.

Marco was still sleeping when Amara woke up. Careful not to
disturb him, she crawled out of bed, grabbed the robe she’d found hanging in
the closet, and went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Or lunch, since it was
nearing noon. Her whole schedule was disrupted, and she was beginning to wonder
if she’d ever get back to where she’d been before she came here. Maybe she didn’t
even want to. She was kind of enjoying being lazy for once, instead of putting
in fourteen hour days on the set.

She looked through the cabinets, but nothing appealed to
her. Giving up on the idea of food, she settled for brewing a pot of coffee,
and, when it was finished, carried it into the living room. She’d been in the
room before, but she hadn’t really had a chance to study a couple of paintings
that she’d noticed. She definitely wanted to get a closer look.

One in particular, an oil painting of an incredibly
beautiful green valley, caught her attention. It was breathtaking. The ground
was covered with trees, and a wide blue river cut through the bottom of the
valley. A large white house sat near the top of the far hill, flanked by a
rather large vineyard, but other than that there weren’t many buildings around.
She wondered where this was. It was a place she’d certainly like to visit
someday, just to see if the view was as beautiful in person as it was on the
canvas.

After a moment she knew Marco was behind her. She didn’t
need to turn to see, she just felt him there. It was a strange sensation, and a
little unsettling. “Where is this place?”

If her newly acquired powers of perception bothered him, he
didn’t show it. He stepped closer and put his hands on her waist. “That’s my
home. It’s the Douro River Valley in Portugal.”

That explained the barely noticeable accent. “You’re from
Portugal.”

“Originally, yes. That house was mine for a long time. I
owned the vineyard for close to a hundred years.”

“It’s very beautiful.” She was going to pretend the whole ‘hundred
years’ part didn’t bother her. “Why did you leave?”

“It was time to move on. I’d spent far too long mourning old
ghosts, grieving a past that I could never get back. I sold the property and
left.” He nuzzled her hair with his chin. “The current owners have turned it
into a bed and breakfast of sorts. Whenever I visit, I stay there.”

“Do you visit often?”

“Not as often as I’d like, but I go when I can.”

“I’d like to go with you sometime.” It slipped out before
she had a chance to stop it, and she wished she could take it back. He wouldn’t
keep her around long enough to be making trips to foreign countries with her.

He surprised her. “Would you really want to? I’d like that.”

He seemed unusually receptive today, and she wanted to take
advantage of it while she had the chance. “Tell me about your family.”

He sighed. “My parents were farmers in the valley. They’ve
been gone too many years. I had one sibling growing up, a brother.”

“It must have been nice having someone to play with.”

“We were close.”

He was silent for a little too long. She was afraid that if
she let him keep quiet much longer, he’d shut her out again. She wanted to know
about him. “Do you work, or do you just go around kidnapping unsuspecting
women?”

He laughed. “I’ve had many jobs over the years. I’m taking a
break right now, but up until a few months ago I was a stock broker on Wall
Street.”

“You’re kidding me.” She had a hard time picturing Marco
within a hundred feet of Wall Street.

“Nope. I did that for ten years. Now I think it’s time for
something else. I might go back to painting for a while.”

“You paint?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to read the
signature on the painting in front of them. “That’s yours, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“Cardoso? So ‘Just Marco’ has a last name after all.”

“That’s the name I was born with, but I haven’t used it
publicly for a while.” He shifted, pulling her back against him. “Is there
anything else you’d like to know?”

It couldn’t really be this easy. What was the catch? “How
can you possibly afford to take time off? This house must have cost you a
fortune.”

“In four hundred years I’ve managed to accumulate enough to
see to my needs.” He paused and drew a deep breath. “I’m sure you can afford
some time off, too.”

“A little while, but I wasn’t exactly careful about my
spending habits.” She hadn’t expected to lose her job. Sometimes life bit the
big one. “If you’re still worried about me capitalizing on picking on your
race, don’t. Most of that money is gone.” Some of it to Derek’s drug habit and
all the expensive rehabs, but she wasn’t going to share that with Marco.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper against her
hair.

“For what? You didn’t spend the money.”

“Not about the money, Amara. About everything else.”

It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. She
pulled out of his arms and turned to face him. “If this is about kidnapping me,
forget it. It’s done. You can’t take it back now. Let’s just move on, okay.”

Marco sighed and ran a hand down his face. He looked like he
wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, his expression a
mix between guilt and pain.

She tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t feel bad. I’m over it.”

His expression darkened. When he spoke, his voice was a low
growl. “You shouldn’t be.”

He stalked out of the room. She thought about going after him,
but changed her mind. When he was ready to talk, and not growl, he knew where
to find her. It wasn’t like she was going to leave or anything.

* * * * *

He was out of his mind.

Amara did
not
belong to him. She may have agreed to
stay, for now, but that didn’t give him the right to hold her to it. She’d been
acting strangely for a little while—first the dizzy spell she had, and then her
agreeable attitude. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew enough to see that
she wasn’t putting up as much of a fight about staying as she normally would.
Something with her wasn’t right.

She’d never admit to it, though, so asking what was wrong
would be pointless. She’d blame it all on stress, on the kidnapping, and the
fact that she thought he was a lunatic.

She was right.

Somewhere along the line he’d plunged over the cliff of
sanity. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to redeem himself before she walked
out on him for good.

He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the
desk he kept in the small study. The house was relatively quiet—he’d heard
Amara sneak back upstairs after he left her. She was probably sound asleep by
now, her curvy body splayed across his sheets. Her hair fanned across the
pillow.
His
pillow.

He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts. He needed to
stay away from her for a while and let the poor woman get some sleep. She could
probably use a couple days’ rest at the least. He’d been feeding too much. At
this rate he’d drain her dry before he even got the chance to return her home.

That was another cause of conflict. His original intentions
had gotten twisted along the way. Forget teaching the woman a lesson, he just
wanted to find some way to keep her here short of strapping her to his bed for
all eternity.

Not that strapping her to his bed wasn’t an intriguing
prospect. But, after the abduction from her home, he had a feeling she wouldn’t
go along with it, at least not yet.

This was confusing, to say the least. Never in his life had
he imagined he’d ever be so infatuated with a woman he was so confused about.
Now he just had to figure out what to do about it.

Amara sat in a chair facing the bay window in the living
room, looking out into the quiet night. With the window cracked open to let in
some of the cool spring air, the only sounds were crickets chirping and the
occasional splash of the fish in the pond a few hundred yards from the house.

The moon was nearly full, and she was able to admire the
serene beauty of the world around her. Why had she ever missed the city? She
could get used to this. Too bad she’d never have the chance.

She’d been with Marco for a week. Pretty soon he’d get tired
of her and send her home. That’s what always happened—the men in her life got
sick of her and moved on. Or, in Derek’s case, slept with every man and woman
on the west coast and just
neglected
to tell her.

It was a little past midnight, and she should be tired. But
she wasn’t. She was wide awake, even though she hadn’t slept in almost a day.
Marco had sent her to bed to get some sleep while he made a few phone calls,
but she’d tossed and turned for two hours. Finally she’d given up. It wasn’t
worth the effort.

“What are you doing awake?”

She winced when he switched on the lamp next to the window.

“Hey, are you okay?” He sounded concerned.

She shrugged it off. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

She hadn’t eaten all day, either, yet she wasn’t hungry. She
started to wonder if she was getting sick. It wasn’t like her to not feel the
effects of an empty stomach. She’d lived with starvation diets long enough to
know the signs.

“Maybe you should see a doctor.”

That would involve going back to the city. She wasn’t ready.
She’d gotten too used to Marco’s quiet life, so far from the reality she knew,
to want to go back. She shook her head.

“No?”

“No, Marco,” she said. “I don’t want to leave. Not to see a
doctor, not for anything.”

He looked worried, and a little upset. “People are probably
starting to notice you’re gone.”

She shrugged. “Let them.”

He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “I have to take
you back tomorrow, Amara.”

“Tomorrow?” That couldn’t be possible. She could not let
that happen. “Why?”

“You don’t belong to me. It’s not right for me to keep you
here like some kind of caged animal.”

“What if I want to stay?” She didn’t feel caged in any way.
It had been a while since she’d felt threatened by him. Something had changed.
She couldn’t identify what it was, but it felt like everything in her universe
had shifted when he’d knocked on her door. Being here, being anywhere, with
Marco felt
right.
She knew she was asking for trouble by protesting, but
she no longer cared. She wanted Marco, and she wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

She was supposed to be here. She couldn’t explain it to him,
and he’d probably laugh it off if she tried, but she knew this was where she
needed to be.

“You can’t. Don’t make this any harder than it is,
sweetheart.” He sighed. “I want you to see a doctor. This is really important
to me. How about we compromise. You can see a doctor I know. He’s going to come
out to the house.”

“What’s the big push with the doctor? I’ve told you I’m
fine.”

He didn’t speak for so long, she wondered if he was even
listening to her. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, he sounded
worried. “Look, there’s something going on with you, whether or not you think
you’re fine. You aren’t sleeping, you aren’t eating, you’re very pale and
listless. I’ve seen this before. It could be the symptoms of…”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Symptoms of what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” He shook his head. “Just see the
doctor, okay?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What part of this do you not
understand? I don’t want to see a doctor. I don’t care whether he’s a friend of
yours or not.”

He looked ready to protest, but a knock on the door stopped
him. He opened the door and let in another big man. This one wasn’t as dark and
scary as Marco, though. With his long, dark blond hair pulled into a ponytail
and the goofy tropical print shirt he wore, he reminded her of a typical;
Southern California beach bum. He was imposing, but not in a way that scared
her.

“What’s this problem you wanted to talk to me about?” The
stranger’s gaze fell on Amara and he smiled knowingly. “I didn’t realize you
were keeping pets. Hey, you have a nice one here.”

Marco winced. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course not. It never is.” The man’s gaze looked Amara
over, very slowly, covering every inch of her body before it finally settled on
her breasts.
Typical.
“Where did you find this one?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on
the floor. “First of all, my face is up here. Second, I’m not anybody’s
pet.
I can make up my own mind, and make my own decisions. I’m here because I
want to be, not because I’m being kept.”

Well, everything but the last sentence was true, anyway, and
that whole issue wasn’t very clear anymore.

The man blinked and turned to Marco. “Since when did you go
for the ones with minds of their own? I thought you liked them subservient and
pliant.”

He turned back to Amara. “Wait a minute, aren’t you Midnight
Morris?”

She sighed loudly. How many times in her life was she going
to have to go through this speech? “
I’m
Amara Daniels. Midnight Morris
is a fictional character who, according to Marco, should be tarred and
feathered for getting every detail about the life of vampires so completely and
utterly wrong.”

He stared at her for several seconds before he burst out
laughing. “Are you kidding? I love those movies.”

“Royce.” Marco’s tone held a warning.

“What? Doesn’t everybody?’

“Apparently not Marco.” Amara rolled her eyes. “He thinks
the writers could strive to make them a little more realistic.”

Royce shrugged. “They could. It’s not like we go around
biting everyone or anything. But who cares? What’s an immortal life if you can’t
have any fun?”

“Are you…?”

“A vampire? Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ve got some
really cool fangs, too. You want to see?”

Marco cleared his throat. “Once you’ve seen one set, you’ve
seen them all.”

“Oh, now that’s not true. Mine are so much longer than
yours.”

Marco scoffed. “Size doesn’t matter. Its how you use them
that counts.”

“Oh, yeah?” Royce winked at Amara. “Whoever coined that
phrase was obviously pitifully small. Mine are huge, babe. That’s what counts.”

“As much as I hate to interrupt your fun, Royce, I called
you for something a little more serious than a discussion of fang size.” Marco
shot Royce a dirty look, and Royce laughed.

“So what’s the problem you mentioned on the phone?”

Marco shook his head. “We can talk about it later. When we
have some time alone.”

“You said we’d be alone tonight.”

Marco shrugged. “I thought she’d be in bed.”

She really hated it when people spoke about her like she
wasn’t in the room. Usually. This time, it might give her an advantage.

“She’s not. So what?” Royce asked. “Is this something you’d
rather she didn’t hear?”

Marco sighed and shook his head. “Never mind. I guess it
doesn’t really matter.”

Amara started to get out of the chair, intent on giving them
some privacy, but that strange dizziness hit her again and she had to sit back
down.

“Are you okay?” Marco asked.

She nodded, not able to speak. She took a couple of deep
breaths. “I’m fine.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak. “I think if
I just ate something, I’d be back to normal.”

“Is
that
the problem?” Royce asked Marco.

Marco nodded tightly. “Yeah, she’s been feeling a little…off
lately.”

Royce turned to Amara. “How so?”

“What does it matter to you?” she snarled.

“Just curious,” he said. “No offense or anything, but you
look like death warmed over.”

Well, duh.
She hadn’t had access to her makeup bag in
a week. “This is the way I look without all that stage makeup.”

“No. You looked pale on screen, but that was probably on
purpose. Now you look sick.”

“I’m
fine
.” What was it with the two of them? She
could take care of herself.

Royce shook his head. “That’s debatable. How are you
sleeping?”

“
Fine.
” She was starting to sound like a broken
record.

“She’s not,” Marco chimed in. “At least not when she’s
supposed to.”

“Are you eating?”

“She’s not eating either. She’s barely touched a meal in
days.”

Royce’s expression was way beyond serious. “Hmm.”

Okay, now she was getting genuinely worried. “Hmm? What’s
that supposed to mean?”

He ignored her, speaking to Marco instead. “Doesn’t this
situation strike you as a little odd?”

“Not really,” Marco said defensively. “You heard her. She
hasn’t been eating well. That alone is enough to cause dizzy spells.”

“I suppose.” Royce turned back to her. “You’re human, right?”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Of course.”

“Both of your parents are human?”

“My mother is.” Her mother was all too human. Her
father—well, he could have been anyone. There had been so many men at the time
her mother had gotten pregnant that she’d never been able to pinpoint exactly
who’d fathered her child. But he was
human
!

Royce turned to Marco. “Did you feed off of her?”

Marco shrugged.

“I don’t know how to explain this. Unless she’s feeding off
of you, too, this shouldn’t be happening.” Royce checked her pulse and frowned.

“What shouldn’t? Somebody had better tell me what’s going on
really quick.”

Royce looked her over for a full minute before he spoke. “If
I didn’t know any better, I’d swear…never mind.”

“No, you have to tell me.” After a statement like that, he
wasn’t going to blow her off. He’d better be planning on explaining himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with her.” Marco butt in. “She’s been
under a lot of stress lately.” He really didn’t want her to know the truth of
what Royce was implying.

She grasped onto that thought, even though she knew
something strange was going on in her body. She felt different, but couldn’t
explain how. She nodded along with Marco. “Yes, I’m fine. Nothing wrong at all.”

“Yeah.” Royce tilted the table lamp so the light was shining
in her eyes.

She winced and covered her eyes with her hands. “What the
hell did you do that for? Are you trying to blind me?”

“No. I’m trying to prove a point.”

“What point is that? It’s impossible to see when someone’s
shining a bright light in your eyes?” She glared at Marco. “If this guy’s so
inquisitive, I can just imagine what your doctor is going to be like.”

Royce laughed at that. “I
am
the doctor.”

“Oh, yeah right. And I’m the tooth fairy.”

“He’s a doctor, Amara. Has been for more years than you’ve
been alive, and before that he was a healer.” Marco answered.

“This is ridiculous. I’m fine. You just said the same thing.
Why on earth did you feel the need to call a doctor?”

“I just wanted someone to reinforce that opinion,” he said.

“You mean you wanted me to come in and lie to you,” Royce
said. “You wanted me to tell you all was great with her, when you already knew
damned well that it wasn’t. You know, for a smart guy you really can be stupid
sometimes.”

She started to ask more questions, but he shook his head
again. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in the chair. She’d
just have to grill Marco later to find out what this guy was talking about.
Doctor or not, he was wrong. She wasn’t sick, just stressed. “Well, obviously
you’re not going to be of any help. Don’t you have a practice to get back to or
something?”

“He doesn’t have a specific practice, he just goes where he’s
needed,” Marco answered for Royce. “Once every couple hundred years he even
visits me.”

“That’s not fair,” Royce said. “It isn’t my fault we didn’t
speak for so long.”

“No. It isn’t.”

Marco was going all broody again. She wanted to ask about
the story behind the cryptic comments, but now was probably not the best time
to be asking questions.

Royce stared at her a little too long before he got up and
walked over to where Marco was standing. “Why’d you let her do it? You knew
damned well what could happen, and you let her do it anyway. You need to learn
that you can’t just
take
without thinking of the consequences.”

“I didn’t
let
her do anything. It was an accident,
not something that was planned.”

Accident? What accident? “Okay, this isn’t funny anymore.
Somebody had better start explaining, and quick.”

They ignored her and continued their private conversation.

“That was pretty irresponsible, Marco.”

“It was only a drop. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“A drop is all it takes.” Royce ran a hand through his hair.
“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. There’s no need to do anything, because
nothing
is going to happen.”

“You’re an idiot. It already has.” He gave Marco a strange
look before he left the room.

Marco walked over to her chair and knelt down in front of
it. “How are you holding up? Think you can stand yet?”

At this point in time, she wasn’t sure. “What’s going on?”

He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Nothing. Royce
gets a little overzealous sometimes. It’s his nature.”

“You’ve both got me a little worried.”

“Don’t be, sweetheart. Everything is going to be fine. Okay?”

She nodded, wondering exactly what was going on, and why no
one would tell her anything.

* * * * *

Marco lay in bed as the sun rose, wondering what to do about
Amara. He had to send her away, but he couldn’t bear to do it. Something out
here was affecting her in a bad way. He didn’t know if it was being with him or
the environment, but she was changing. She was starting to act like him, sleeping
the same hours and refusing food.