The Invitation (2 page)

He was in hell. His nostrils flared. He narrowed his eyes and barely contained his rage as Lucian swirled her around. His guard’s hand rested intimately at the small of her back.

Evie.

He’d been waiting for her for centuries. The woman who could complete him, who could bring him peace beyond the veil.

“Are you sure she is the one, sire?”

He didn’t look at his faithful aide, Crusus. He couldn’t look away from Evie laughing, swaying her curves to the music. “I’m sure. I’ve been sure for many years.”

Being king of the Shadow world meant he had power to foretell certain aspects of the future. He’d seen Evie in his.

“If you try and fail you will go into the Fade right away.”

There was no life in the Fade. Souls just ceased to exist.

Gabriel rubbed his brow, weary. His bones ached and he couldn’t remember some things anymore. The names of his predecessors eluded him, as did certain aspects of the court. If he couldn’t remember how things worked, how could he rule? As king of the Shadow world—the world between Heaven and Hell—he couldn’t afford to fail. There would be chaos and anarchy. He wouldn’t allow his people to rip themselves apart.

“If I don’t try, Crusus, I’ll go into the Fade anyway. I can’t leave you. The court would tear each other apart to gain power.”

The Shadow world’s was like any other court, right down to the intrigue and plots. It had a ruling class but kings had to fight to obtain their position. When a king came into power, the All-father took a piece of the winner’s soul and dispersed it into the human world. If the king was to survive more than a few centuries, he needed to find his consort. The one woman who could complete him. The missing part of his soul.

Evie’s throaty laugh drew his attention. Lucian dipped her before sweeping her up into a dazzling lift. The pleasure on her face was unmistakable. His cock hardened and he growled. He wanted her to look at him like that.

“Sire, do you want me to punish Lucian?”

Gabriel waved his hand in dismissal and reined in his temper. “No.”

He took a sip of champagne. He couldn’t use his powers in the midst of American society. But his hunger was growing.

He craved. He needed. His soul cried out for him to claim what belonged to him.

Evie.

She moved well. Graceful. Beautiful. Oh so beautiful in the gown he’d chosen for her. He’d read her books, reveled in the idea that she fantasized about him.

Evelyn Ward was the woman who could complete him.

Are you sure she’s ready?
Lucian’s voice echoed in his head. All his guards were attuned to his emotions but only his head guard could speak directly into his mind.

He looked down at his hands. The skin appeared more translucent than normal. He didn’t have much time.
It has to be tonight, Lucian. No more waiting.

He’d noticed her twenty years ago when eight-year-old Evie sneaked up to the house to watch the pretty ladies. Her soul sang a beautiful melody—one of innocence and acceptance. Fascinated by such a curious child, he’d watched her grow. On her eighteenth birthday she’d blown out her candles and smiled.

His world ignited. His body crumbled with need. She was his consort.

He’d given her time to mature. To experience life. Waiting proved agonizing. Each day he grew weaker. His instincts clawed at him to take her but he cared too much to destroy her. She had to be ready.

You need to step things up, sire.

He had a plan. One of seduction. By the time the Christmas bells chimed, she would be his.

Lucian was fun to be with. They danced over and over.

“No more. I think my feet are about to drop off,” Evie said, a little breathless.

He stepped away, gave her a regal bow and escorted her back to the dais where Gabriel waited. He winked at her and kissed her hand before moving back into the crowd. He scanned the room, no doubt searching for another willing victim. Although Lucian was odd, she liked him.

Gabriel motioned for her to sit. “More champagne?”

Strains of
Troika
tinkled in the background as she accepted a cool glass of champagne.

Her host’s eyes burned more intensely than before. Was Gabriel jealous of Lucian?

Absurd. Why would he be jealous? Gabriel commanded the room. Lucian was a shadow compared to him.

“In your books you write of forbidden eroticism, of long-lost love, of vampires and things that go bump in the night. Do you believe in the impossible?”

Shocked, Evie almost sprayed champagne on his jacket. The conversation had taken a weird turn. She’d always been fascinated by the supernatural. Ghosts and ghouls, vampires and werewolves, fairies, gods and monsters—she’d dreamed of them all as a child. Later, she’d started having more erotic dreams. Dreams of a decadent court, of a mystical king who fucked her over and over.

Did she believe in the things she wrote? Maybe. “You’ve read my books? I guess so. In some form, in some realm, they could be real.”

Great admission, Evie. Now he thinks you’re a wacko.

He wet his lips. His eyes sparkled. “Do you believe in a dashing king who can sweep you off your feet and bring you to orgasm again and again?”

Her nipples puckered. Things low in her belly tightened and her pussy creamed. As she watched the moisture glisten on his mouth, her hormones zipped into overdrive. She felt empty, needy, desperate to be filled.

Fuck me.
The sneaky voice in her head screamed the traitorous thought.

Sexual tension thickened between them. His presence became overwhelming as he leaned forward. “Dance with me, Evelyn. Let me touch you.”

On a normal day she would find that really creepy. Tonight, however, it sounded like heaven. He wanted to touch her. To feel her body against his.

Though tired and sore from numerous dances with Lucian, she could not deny him. He looked at her as though she were the only woman in the room. His eyes smoldered with desire. She was compelled. Bewitched.

She slipped her hand in his. The contact unleashed a tantalizing series of emotions. Heat. Desire. Longing. Completion. They curled her toes and sent blood racing through her system. Her clit throbbed. If she clenched her thighs together, she’d come without any stimulation.

She blinked. She wasn’t sure if she should dance with Gabriel or run for the door. No man should affect a woman so thoroughly.

He led her into a crowd of swaying bodies. As if on cue her favorite Christmas carol began playing. The soft strains of
O Holy Night
never failed to stir her emotions. Gabriel opened his arms and she stepped into them. His palm fit snugly against the small of her back. They fit together.

His spicy scent enveloped her in a sensual cocoon. The music played on and she snuggled her face against the crook of his neck. His pulse sped up and she smiled. She wanted to lick his skin, taste salt and musk on her tongue.

“Evie,” he murmured, his voice thick and deep.

The rumble echoed in her clit. Her pussy bloomed, lips swollen and dripping.

He stroked the nape of her neck. He fisted her hair and drew her head back so she looked at him. “You are beautiful.”

Her core quivered. She didn’t care if it wasn’t real, if this was all a game. All that mattered was how she felt right now. Feminine. Desirable. Wanted.

But questions remained. Why her? Why was she here? “Gabriel—”

He pressed a long, graceful finger to her lips. “Please, don’t speak. There will be time for explanations later. Give yourself to me, Evie. Let go.”

She swayed in his arms. He led her around the dance floor with elegance. She knew people stared. The plain, ordinary woman and the dashing, handsome millionaire. She didn’t care. She was with Gabriel and everything felt right.

She could fall in love with him.

A smile lifted the corners of her lips. She was already in love with him, had been since she was a little girl watching from a distance. Over the years no man had ever quite reached the dazzling romantic pedestal she’d placed Gabriel on. Tonight he was making everything she’d ever dreamed a reality.

The majestic
Cantique De Noël
finished. She tried to step away from his embrace but he tightened his hold.

“Stay with me.” His voice was filled with such longing it pierced her heart.

The music changed into something more sensuous. She could manage slow dancing but she’d never been any good at grinding her booty. Her limbs tended to flail around, gawky and geeky. Definitely not sexy.

He flashed her a predatory grin. “Turn around.”

She shook her head.

“Turn around.”

Eventually she followed his command. He grasped her from behind, rested his hands on her hips and began to move them to the music.

“Don’t think. Feel the music. Let it guide you.”

Blood thickened in her veins. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she almost moaned with pleasure. Having Gabriel so close drove her insane with desire. Her breasts swelled, begged for him to place his palms over the sensitive flesh.

“See, not so hard.”

Is your cock hard? Is this affecting you as much as it’s affecting me?

He bent her forward slightly and her ass brushed his groin. He
was
hard. Very hard.

What should she do?

Like one of her heroines, she decided to take the initiative. She pushed back and ground the cheeks of her ass against his cock.

He hissed and she stopped, unsure if the hiss was a good or a bad thing.

He cupped her neck and whispered, “You are tempting fate, Miss Ward. Maybe we should move to more neutral territory.”

Gabriel led her away from the dance floor and escorted her into the library. It was unlike any library she’d ever seen. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with dark-oak bookshelves, every shelf stocked full with expensive leather-bound books. A fire crackled in the hearth, giving off a cozy atmosphere. A homey feel. A Christmas tree decorated the corner and in front of the fireplace stood two high-backed leather chairs.

“I have often sat in this room on Christmas Eve and thought of you, Evelyn Ward.”

Startled, she faced him and drew her gaze from what she was sure was a first edition of
A Christmas Carol
.

He thought of her? Wow. That was either incredibly sexy or incredibly creepy.

“Thought of me? You don’t even know me. We’ve never met.” She omitted spying on him as a horny teenager. “I’m still curious why you sent the invitation. You’ve paid so much attention to me tonight—surely there has to be a catch?”

She hoped not. Being in his presence was akin to basking in the sun—spectacular. She couldn’t go back.

He gave her a wistful, almost pained look and moved closer to the fireplace. He appeared to be contemplating something. Fear slammed into her. What was he hiding? No matter how attracted she was to the seductive Mr. Longthorn, she didn’t understand him.

“Would you be willing to take a leap of faith with me, Evie?” A dark, dangerous look blazed in his eyes as he turned. His hands fisted at his sides as he stalked toward her.

She took an involuntary step back and let out a squeak even as her loins ignited. Her nerve endings tingled. His nostrils flared and she bit her lip. Surely he couldn’t smell her arousal?

“Gabriel—”

Before she could protest, he towered over her like a conquering hero claiming his prize. “No more waiting, Evelyn Ward. I want you.”

Heat slammed into her. Her thighs quivered as her clit pulsed.

Oh god.

He was going to touch her. Now. Would his kiss be commanding? Demanding like the invitation? Or would it be gentle and coaxing?

He kissed her. The soft lips teased as his tongue traced the seam of her mouth. He tasted of Christmas—spice and cinnamon. All the tempting things that made her want to dive in and bathe in him. Despite his hot words he didn’t deepen the kiss.

So much control.

But she didn’t want his control. She wanted him naked and inside her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. She nibbled and coaxed, willing him to take more.

He tensed before plundering her mouth with his tongue. She moaned. Her nipples became turgid peaks. She throbbed with need. Moisture pooled in her panties. She’d never been so damn horny.

Their tongues dueled as the fire between them burned as bright as an evening star. His scent seeped into her, musky and masculine. His unique taste was an aphrodisiac in her mouth.

She ached for him. It was implausible. Fantastical. But she didn’t care.

She ran her hands through his inky-black hair and was surprised at its softness. He caressed her shoulders and feathered the pulse point beating erratically in her neck. It fired her blood to an inferno.

She rubbed against him and let out a tiny mewling sound. “Please…Gabriel…” She didn’t recognize her voice. It was low, husky, filled with pleasure and unspent passion.

“What, Evie? What do you need?”

She’d never been vocal with her lovers. Too shy. But tonight she wanted to beg him to fuck her. “Touch me.”

“Where? Describe it to me.” He cradled her head so she couldn’t look away. No hiding from him.

Her chest heaved. She closed her eyes.

“Don’t hide your needs from me. Open and tell me what you need.”

She’d never been with a man so intense. It thrilled her. “I want you to stroke my breasts. Tease my nipples.”

He cupped her left breast. “Beautiful. I bet your nipples are already hard.”

Heat flushed her cheeks. “Yes.”

He squeezed and she gasped as pleasure shot straight between her thighs. “What else?”

“I want to see you naked. Feel your skin pressed against mine.”

“And then?”

“And then I want you to fuck me.” She never used such bold words, except in her books. She was wild. Wanton. As though she’d explode if she didn’t get Gabriel’s cock inside her.

“No more waiting, Evie. I need you. I’m going to take you.”

“Yes.” It was foolish to do this. He was a socialite, a rich businessman, while she was a struggling writer. It could never work.

She was already in love with him. After tonight she’d probably be starting New Year’s with a broken heart, but she didn’t care. She wanted something for herself. She wanted Gabriel. Consequences be damned.

She couldn’t explain it but somewhere deep inside, in some dark part of her soul, it felt right. Like it was meant to be.

She squashed the thought. She couldn’t let her writer’s imagination take over. She needed to stay grounded in reality.

Gabriel lifted her into his arms and strode over to the fireplace. He laid her gently on the rug before lying beside her.

“So beautiful.” He ran his fingertips down her exposed neckline.

Gooseflesh rose in his wake. Not from cold but from lust. Anticipation hung heavy in the air. It beat against her skin like a thousand butterflies.

He leaned down and suckled her breast through the velvet of her gown. Her eyes fluttered shut. Pleasure burned behind her lids. The intense emotion bowed her spine and she pushed the eager, waiting nipple farther into his mouth.

He chuckled. The reverberations of the sound hummed in her core and it answered with a gush of wetness.

“Lie on your stomach.” His voice pierced the misty haze of sexual tension and she did as he asked.

The rasping sound of the zipper on her gown ramped up her desire. He dragged it down and she quivered. He flipped the clasp of her bra like an expert. His fingertips traced patterns on her bare skin. He was killing her with his slow, leisurely pace. He savored her as if she were some special Christmas present to be unwrapped. Evie almost screamed in frustration but she dared not break the magic spell he weaved.

“Beautiful. So soft, smooth, delicate. So perfect.”

No one had ever called her beautiful. She was well and truly sunk.

Unable to stand it any longer, she turned. As she did, her dress shook free of her shoulder and her breasts were exposed to the warm air.

A wolfish grin appeared on Gabriel’s face. “Ah, a veritable feast.”

Like a starving man, he took one dusky pink nipple into his mouth and then licked.

The sensation sent an electric current through her. She gripped his hair and bit her lip to stop herself from screaming his name.

Jesus fucking Christ.