Kristina Dalton

EXCERPTS

TAKEN

Walks Softly halted his mount beyond the surf. I squeezed the gelding and he waded from the sea. My companion’s face held no expression. Black eyes unreadable.

“You’re making ‘indian eyes’ at me,” I pointed out to him.

“I said a prayer to the Great Father no man would see you just now.”

“Let the whippings ensue,” I murmured, turning my mount. More loudly, I suggested, “We should cool them.”

We walked our horses along the beach. Each of us silent, our mounts grateful for the less demanding pace. After a few moments, it dawned upon me. “You are a man. You saw me.”

“That’s different.”

I considered that for a moment, then caught sight of someone out in the sea. “God in Heaven, there is a person out there!” I turned to Walks Softly.

He gazed out to sea. “That is the captain.”

“What is he doing?” A sudden death by drowning might prove convenient, I mused hatefully.

“He swims every day when we’re here.”

As we rode slowly closer, I noticed a tall dark fin prowling not far off to his side. Stark primitive terror ripped through me. “There’s a shark!”

“There are many. Like the stars. The Spanish named this island, Isla de los Tiburones. The island of the sharks.”

I couldn’t imagine willingly entering waters so populated with predators. The captain turned, began making his way toward us, swimming parallel to the beach His arms rose and fell, cutting the water in a strong, steady rhythm. I couldn’t tear my gaze from that fin. Until I noticed two more perhaps twenty paces on his other side.

“Does he see them?” I asked, almost breathless.

“He can even tell them apart.”

I suddenly felt very shaky, gripped by panic. The thought of him slipping peacefully under clear water had been a wicked little notion of my less civilized self. The idea of him slashed and ripped by vicious teeth sickened me. “Why does he risk their hunger? Is he mad?”

“The captain says they are more honest than men.”

I could not grasp the concept of swimming with sharks. One well as might stroll with a hungry wolf. I continued to watch, fascinated, fretful. When he turned and struck out for shore, I urged the gelding ahead. I sat heavily in the saddle.

The largest fin stayed with him as he came nearer to land. Soon I could see the large dark body of the fish, surely twice the length of the captain. It veered away as he entered shallower water. I did not draw a steady breath until he stood, and waded from the surf.

For a moment, my relief obliterated all else.

Then, I truly looked at him.

Heat skidded over my skin.

Water sluiced down his almost bare, sun-browned body, gleaming upon the swell of elegant brawn, beading in his hair like diamonds. He wore only a pair of abbreviated breeches, cut off at the top of his muscular thighs. I took in the bulge of muscle there, the ridged abdomen. Hair and skin all possessed the gleam of gold. I understood how he’d earned his name. The Golden Panther.

He halted, squeezed some of the wetness from his clubbed hair. That rebellious shorter lock fell over his forehead. He swiped it back. In his left ear, the gold hoop glimmered. Then his eyes met mine. Something hot and sudden arced between us. He walked toward me. I trembled. Captive to the power of his presence, I waited.

“Enjoying your outing, Lady Rothington?” Darkness and danger glided under the soft tone.

“Very much.”

“Are the sights my island offers to your liking?”

The moment had arrived to either cower meekly, or launch my campaign. “Very much,” I returned. “I am quite stimulated.”

He wiped water from his face. “You appear flushed.”

“As I said, I am quite stimulated.”

“Perhaps you should seek refuge from the sun.”

I let my gaze eat his beautiful body, taking in far more than a moment ago. So much dark, smooth skin. The V of hair on his chest rather shocked me. Dark as his eyebrows and short, neat, beard and mustache, it tapered sharply to a thin line descending below his indecent breeches. “The sun seems to have a favorable influence here.” A warmth far stronger than its light grew in me. The sight of his near-nakedness evoked a powerful response. I felt nervous and sensitive.

“Not on skin such as yours.”

I smiled, warming to the game. “Should I be flattered or frightened you’ve taken such interest in my skin, captain?”

His gaze pinned me, speculative and bold, and his voice lowered to an intimate hush. “I knew you would be trouble.” He reached down, flipped my skirt back from my foot. My heart nearly stopped at his liberty taking. Yet, I forced myself to remain cool. “This won’t do,” he said, gaze upon my sandal-shod foot. “I shall see you have boots for riding.”

“Surely I am the most pampered captive in all the Spanish Main,” I shot at him, saucy and a touch accusatory.

His attention shifted, his gaze returning to mine. “Indubitably.”

“You’ve made one large error in your far-reaching endeavor, captain. My fiancé, like the rest of the civilized world will consider me so much unpleasant baggage when they learn I’ve been unchaperoned among outlaws. He will not surrender himself to save a ruined woman.”

“No,” he agreed so easily my heart lurched, “but he will to save face before his rivals. They received correspondence from me, as well. I trust their political ambition to turn the screws and force his courage to the sticking place.”

“Well, then, I stand corrected,” I replied with careful lightness. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“I didn’t anticipate you.”

His words fell like stones despite their softness. “Perhaps, then,” I countered, “your plan is flawed after all.”

He adjusted my skirt with measured care, covering my foot. “Careful you do not get burned, Lady Rothington.”

“Just Lili,” I returned. “I must become accustomed to my new status, captain.” I turned the gelding and nudged his sides. “When you took me from the Gallant, you removed my title.”

Behind me, he said nothing. Walks Softly rather materialized at my side, his spotted mount walking with its head lowered, ears and eyes showing marked relaxation.

We did not speak until far down the beach.

My companion reached over to touch my arm. “You are very brave, Lili.”

I turned, caught his black eyes with mine. “Your captain will surrender to me, I swear it.”

Walks Softly seemed almost sad as he murmured, “I believe he will.”

UNLEASHED

He stood waiting when I emerged to lock up the office. The two huge impressive blacks I had seen with him stood some distance away. Hanging the keys on my belt, I asked, “Do you intend to take your bodyguards?”

“Actually, they are my brothers,” He replied, confounding me. “They are like mother hens watching after a chick.”

I wanted to question him about the matter, but held silent. He placed my hand upon his arm, keeping it there under his. I did not like it. Though, I refused too snatch my hand back and show cowardice. We walked the few blocks to the Inn, the big men shadowing us like wraiths. They remained outside as we entered. I often came here. The common room brimmed with patrons as usual. Roth excused himself, walked over to speak to the innkeep. I watched him hand over a small bag in a quiet manner.

When he returned, he put his hand at the base of my back. “We have a table waiting.”

We followed the innkeep back through a door next to the kitchen’s. Back here, a few empty tables nestled in the corners of the lantern lit room. Roth pulled out a chair for me. I sat, he pushed it in and seated himself. The innkeep departed and I felt very alone with him. “There is no bill of fare hung back here,” I observed.

“I have already ordered.” He reached over and traced his fingertips from my knuckles to nails. I pulled back my hand. He lowered his voice to a hush. “Do you not like to be touched, Braxton?”

I answered before I could check myself. “Not really.”

“Now that is a shame,” he replied. “May I make so bold as to suggest you have not been touched by anyone who knows how?”

I felt my cheeks flush. “That is none of your affair.”

“I am making it mine,” he responded, confident and unapologetic for the liberty taking.

A pretty barmaid arrived with a bottle of wine and two goblets. She set eyes upon Roth and they fairly popped from her dim-witted skull. I could almost see the drool form as she gawked at him in female avarice. The bottle slipped from her grasp. He caught it neatly and set it upon the table. She pinked and stammered an apology that managed to sound like a proposal. He turned it away with gentlemanly aplomb, then dismissed her and poured for us.

I sat there feeling more out of my element than I could ever recall. He held up his goblet. In that quiet tone, said, “To new experiences.”

I longed to ignore the insinuation. No help for it, however. I lifted my wine, let him touch his goblet to mine, than very happily drank the rich red vintage. I had nowhere to look but at him or the wall, and I suspected he had seated me with that intention. Stubbornly, I assessed the woodwork and swallowed more spirits. After only a few moments, the innkeep and several barmaids, including that stupid little cow from before, brought in more food than three could eat: shrimp in pastries, cold chicken with sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, flounder stuffed with rice and peppers, fresh bread, cheese, a whole pineapple skin removed, top intact.

I grit my teeth as the girls fawned over my dining companion, fighting none too subtly for the privilege of placing his plate and utensils before him. The innkeep herded them away and closed the door behind them.

Roth served me, then himself. I caught myself fascinated by his hands and averted my eyes.

“Are most men discouraged by silence and your aversion to touch?” He posed the personal inquiry as easily as he might have asked after a desire for more wine.

“Are you always so arrogant and presuming?” I could scarce believe the unmitigated gall.

“When I want something,” he returned, his eyes finding mine, “aye.”

“What is it you want?” I knew the answer. He wanted what I knew about his enemy.

“You.”

I almost dropped my goblet. Recovering, I set it upon the table. “If you seek an easy toss, the Mermaid Club on Tassel Street will better meet your needs.”

He fixed me with those warm eyes, the lantern light catching in their depths. “I know not what breed of man you are accustomed to dealing with, but I will not be put off.” His tone changed, and I sensed that same perilous ground. “I am keeping my hands busy so I do not pull you into my lap, and taste your lovely mouth as I yearn to. Do not press my reserve.”

I pushed back my chair and stood, intending to leave him there with the flittering barmaids. I did not even see him move. Yet, I found myself pressed against the wall, his body flush to my own; the feel his muscular body foreign, the evidence of his arousal against my belly alarming. He slid his hand behind my nape, urging my neck to arch, my head to tilt back, then his lips covered mine. I erupted into rebellion. He proved far stronger and more proficient at hand-to-hand fighting. Real fear gripped me.

As if he smelled it, he stepped back, removing the entrapment of his big body, and pulled me into a comforting embrace. “Forgive me. I thought you played a woman’s game of resistance.”

I shook so hard it seemed my very bones quaked. Memories of rough hands and cruel indifference roared within my brain. Slowly, I registered the gentle caressing of my back, the soft reassurances murmured into my hair. By degrees, the trembling ceased. Ashamed to have shown such weakness, I pulled away.

“Please stay,” he said quietly. “Please.”

UNTOLD

Again as precise, he arrived. When he entered he caught my hand and lifted it to his somehow cruel, sculpted lips. He kissed the back of my hand and my attention became snared by his hands. Their obvious strength and masculine beauty enslaved my senses. I stared at them, clasping my one. White scars interrupted the dark, smooth skin. Mostly on his knuckles. Marks of battle I recognized.

I pulled away, went to open my paint box. He shed his clothing and resumed his position upon the chaise. My gaze returned repeatedly to his rampant erection. It jerked over his flat, muscled belly.

“You could touch me as I lie here, “he suggested quietly.

I forced myself to focus upon color and lighting. Adjustments to lamps redirected my musings a bit. Then I dabbed my brush in one of the flesh tones and resumed work. Creativity swirled with arousal. I worked so swiftly my arm hurt. His body deserved complete attention to detail. As I painted in the highlights on his manhood, I whimpered.

My model held statue still, yet murmured, “I burn for you, Ivy.”

“Do not speak of it,” I managed, switching brushes. I cleaned my first, carefully applied paint to the second.

“Would you have mercy, and come kiss me?”

“Cease. Nay.” My feverish brushstrokes dizzied even me.

His hand moved from his belly to grip his rampant masculinity. I froze. As his gaze met mine, he slowly worked his phallus. “I ache for your touch.”

I stared, stupefied and immobilized by the deliciousness of seeing him touching his own erection. “I can not paint you thus.”

“Then, come here.”

I added additional details, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. “Please, Con.”

He growled low in his wide chest. “I would beggar myself in answer to that.”

I placed my brush upon my work table. “I have finished for tonight.”

He sat upright, hair settling over his wide shoulders. “Ivy, I want you so much my chest aches with it. Might you allow me to taste your mouth?”

I walked forward, vulnerable and raw in my receptiveness. His nudity made me weak. I straddled his thighs and leaned low to hold his smooth-shaven, hard jaw in my grasp. I brushed my lips over his, uncertain how to proceed. Harsh bolts of carnal delight ripped me. Beyond shame, I confided, “This is my first kiss.”

In a heartbeat, he pulled me down onto the chaise. He loomed above me, yet I experienced no fear. His hips settled beside mine. I groaned as he stroked my jaw, then touched his very firm and enticing lips to mine. His silky tongue flirted with me until I opened my mouth.

The excitement of tasting him so intimately terrified me. That commitment concern loomed in my brain. I rolled from the chaise. “You may return on the morrow. No exchange of intimacy.”

He dressed without haste. Before he departed, he said to me, “Sleep well, pet.”

“Bugger off to the Devil.”

DESTINED

My Aunt Agatha’s voice screeching above the sound of Bach made me miss a step. Some passing dandy bumped into me. I turned to accept the expected apology. However, a careless servant walked too close with a tray of sherry and pushed it into the path of my hand. The dandy tried to get clear the shower of liquid and glass vessels, slipped and fell flat on his lower portions. That tray bearer soon followed suit.

“I vow these engagements always come to disorder.” Stepping daintily around the clumsy fallen, I continued on my way to the punch bowl. When I arrived, cut crystal cups sat in a neat arrangement, already filled. I took one and allowed myself one longing look at a nearby refreshment table. What utter cruelty. They offered those same delicious apple tartlets they had at their masque in the spring.

I did not eat in public. Nor in front of anyone save family. The taunts concerning my shape and size became unbearable, so I simply ceased.

“Abigail! “ Aunt Agatha arrived at my side. “What in Heaven’s name were you thinking? That cousin to Seth asked you to dance!” She lowered her voice, evidently recovering from whatever had worked her into such frenzy. “Despite your parents’ indulgence, our family would greatly benefit if you made such a match.”

“What, pray tell, do you mean?” I sipped punch. It slid down my throat in a cool, refreshing burst of some light wine and juice.

I heard my aunt suck in her breath. “My sweet Lord above. Here he comes.”

I wagered they had dusted those tartlets with sugar and cinnamon again. My knowledge of them came from shameful means. I had spent the evening tucking them into my reticule and devouring them in stolen moments. Botheration. My mouth watered.

A very deep male voice with the most unusual accent spoke behind me. “Miss Abigail?”

It sounded familiar and then I recalled the giant who had asked either Miss Frances or Miss Patience to dance. Reluctantly, I turned. I could not focus upon his face without issue. It reminded of me of my girlhood when I would try to stare at the sun. Once, in the church yard, I had become dizzy, fallen down and put a lump on my head the size of snooty Cousin Victoria’s paste ruby ring.

I found my gaze focused upon a spot just below his chest. Tilting back my head, I squinted, attempting to see his face without that swimmy sensation. An overall impression of exotic, rather savage features, dark hair and skin and intimidating amber eyes formed for me.

He bowed slightly. “Miss Abigail, forgive me if my forwardness offended you. It would truly honor me, if you would gift me with a dance.”

Aunt Agatha replied, “Of course, sir.”

I longed to return to our apartments with the Weatherby’s. Blinking to clear my skewed vision, I said. “With regret, I must retire for the evening. Please accept my apology and gratitude for the gallant invitation.” My, he stood tall as some trees.

He stepped into my path. “May I call upon you, Miss Abigail?”

“Please,” Aunt Agatha replied eagerly.

UNTIL YOU

After the cable company tech arrived and installed the lines for his TV and broadband, Jason called Jenny. She had the afternoon off, and drove him into town so he could hit the hardware store. Jason leaned into her lowered window. “Need anything?”

“Not a thing. Shop away.”

He walked down the street to the hardware store, ready to rack up a big ticket. Inside smelled somehow familiar, yet metallic and foreign. Even some savory food scents. Jason walked down a row of tools and chain.

Ridge stepped around the end of the aisle. “Jason.”

“Oh God.” That coronary event loomed. “Don’t look at me.”

“I want to look at you.”

He attempted to flee. Ridge caught him at the door. Big, long arms wrapping Jason, his face pressed to Jason’s hair, he rumbled, “I want to touch you, give you pleasure.”

Off balance, Jason gasped, “What are you doing here?”

“I own it. See me again tonight.”

Jason’s knees buckled. Ridge’s strength kept him upright. The scent and feel of the man holding him almost hurt. “I have repairs to make.”

“I’ll come take care of it.”

Jason vacillated. “I should learn to do for myself.”

Ridge gripped him tighter. His words ruffled Jason’s hair. “Goddamnit, brown eyes. Let me do something.”

“Okay.” Jason panted, on fire. “Okay. Let me go.”

“I love the way you feel.” Then, after that growled declaration, he released Jason and stepped back. “Expect me this evening.”

Jason staggered away, whispering, “I will.” He wondered he might have to make the final distance to Jenny’s car on his hands and knees. He yanked open the door and fell in, making her jump and yelp in surprise.

“God, City! You scared ten years off my life. What’re you doing back so fast empty-handed?”

“I can’t go back in there.” Jason placed his hand on his chest. The excitement in this quiet little town might kill him.

“Why?” She sounded baffled. Then, her quick mind picked up the clues. “Omigod, you lucky son-of-a-gun! You’re involved with Ridge Garrett!”

He had to swallow twice before making an effusive denial. “I am not ‘involved’ with anybody. What I’m having, is a huge problem with what he wants to get involved in. I have never even looked at another man. This will settle down soon, and I can get the relaxation I came here for.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Your lack of interest puts you in this shape? Out of breath, face flushed?”

“He’s just … overwhelming in his persistence.”

For a long moment she stared at him rather accusingly. “City, if you don’t let that absolutely magnificent man take you to bed, you’re crazy.”

“I’m not going to bed with him.” Jason wished he sounded firmer, more convinced.

She snorted. “Then, do it on the floor.”

“Can we just go?” Panic continued to grip him. “He might come out here and pick up the car or something.”

“No,” she shot back quickly. “I drove into town, it’s not gonna be for nothing. Buy me lunch. I’m starving.”

“Okay. Anything. Let’s get out of the street where he can see.”

As she carefully backed up to the car behind, then pulled forward, Jenny said, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but not to me. You’re crushing so hard on him it’s ridiculous. Do the guy.”

Jason bought Jenny lunch at the bistro. She drove him home at a little after three. He asked before he got out, “Want to come in?

“Can I get a rain check? Tuesday afternoons are my only time off to run errands and catch up on housework.”

“Sure. Thanks again for the ride.”

“Hey, I got a meal and a show. Just not in that order. That’s thanks enough.”

Jason had to laugh at his own expense. “Your compassion is appreciated.”

“If you could’ve seen your face.”

He slapped the roof of the car lightly. “Get out of here.”

“Call me.”

He watched her drive away, smiling to himself until he recalled Ridge would come there that evening to see him. Jason broke a cold sweat and hurried inside.

By five o’clock, Jason had changed his mind about Euthanasia. At that moment, someone putting him out of his misery would have proven a great kindness. He’d showered, then set a new personal record changing clothes five times. It made him feel so helpless against his runaway emotions. He actually wanted to just cry and spew it all out through his eyes.

The sound of the Harley pulling up the drive sent him into an almost blind panic. He looked at himself in the mirror and the wildness in his eyes scared the hell out of him. Maybe he could hide and Ridge would think he’d taken a walk? No, the man would rip the door off the hinges and start pitching furniture onto the lawn until he found him. Hearing the engine in approach sent him into a fit. Hearing it cut off took his legs from under him and he sat down on the floor.

Jason thought he might hyperventilate as booted footfalls came onto the porch and to the door. Ridge knocked firmly. After a moment, he called, “Jason?” The knob turned and the door began to open. He hadn’t slid the bolt! “Jason?”

As soon as he looked in, he could see straight down the hall into the room. His eyes locked on Jason and he strode in, dark straight eyebrows lowered. “What happened? Are you all right?” He shook the floor with the way he bore down on Jason and plucked him up to stand. Ridge’s gaze and hands ran over him in a distinctly clinical manner. Finally, he gripped Jason’s chin in one big hand. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” he confessed.

“Kiss me, Jason.” The seductive hush of his voice acted like flame to powder keg. Jason’s gaze lowered from those pale, tropical water-hued eyes, to Ridge’s mouth. “Kiss me,” he tempted. “I could take it from you,” he murmured, “hold you down and take it.”

Jason shuddered. He closed his eyes at the forbidden, feral sensuality in the warning.

“I’ll give you that. You can have anything you want from me. But, first you have to give me something. You have to give me a kiss.”

THE KING'S RIGHT

Suvari bit her lip to prevent tears. She blamed her exhaustion and lingering grief about the little boys for the vulnerability. What did she care if she never saw him again? So long as she reached her goal.

He stretched out beside her, close for warmth as he had most every time they slept.

This time seemed different. Her awareness of him created a curious shimmering sensation. She turned away, when she did, the seal and the diamond choker hidden in her stays dug into her ribs. So she rolled back.

And found herself face-to-face with the mercenary.

He lie on his side as she did. His eyes bright even in the low light.

A sharp thrill raced from her head to her feet. The scent of his myrrh soap mingled with pine she’d smelled on him that day on the stairs. Part of her mind realized his custom of using it for bedding caused that.

His gaze moved to her mouth. Her breasts tingled. A flush heated her neck and cheeks. She felt compelled to touch his face.

He caught her hand, rolled her onto her back and himself half atop her. His hand clasped hers, kept it pinned above her head. Though she’d grown accustomed to such contact, feminine instinct told her this was very different. He’d changed from a trusted escort and companion to something foreign and a bit scary.

His eyes narrowed. Not as when he turned their keen perception on her. More a downsweep of long black lashes, almost lazy.

Her breath came rapid and shallow. The strange thrill intensified as his head lowered. His lips touched hers. She whimpered. He tasted like summer rain and something far darker.

More tempting.

His tongue touched her lips and she parted them in surprise. The shocking intimacy tripled as he delved into her mouth.

Suvari put her free hand on his chest. She intended to push him away. But her fingers slid over him between the parted laces of his shirt. Smooth skin and silken-rough hair over iron brawn.

A bewitching, melting sensation bloomed between her thighs.

From deep in his throat came a rumbling purr. His silky tongue teased, coaxed hers forward.

Between one rapid breath and the next, she found herself alone. He stood above her, charged as the air before a storm.

“Forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

Confused, senses awakened, she now recognized the things she experienced with him all along. Even on the stairs, when he’d caught her, held her body to his. The veil of mystery that shrouded the carnal relations of men and women parted.

A surge of empowerment accompanied the knowledge. It mixed with the sensual excitement in a heady rush.

She sat up, pushed her hair over her shoulder with a shaky hand. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

He swore under his breath in the language she’d often heard him use. “You don’t understand. We cannot have this between us.”

“Why? Who would know?” Ideas began to form. If she could control him with female wile, he might prove more biddable.

“I would know.”

She considered his response. “Though I may still have a long road to travel before I am wordly, I recognize in you the same desire I felt.”

“I am sworn to deliver you virgin to the priests before the next full moon. Your father has my vow. I do not break it.”

“My father is a despicable brute who cares only what he can gain in trade for me. What value does a pledge to him have?”

He knelt, met her gaze. His voice lowered to a hush. “It is my value at stake. I refuse to break my word.”

Suvari’s plots began to crumble before she fully formed them. In the harsh planes of his face she saw determination that matched hers.

“Thanks to my father’s obsession with my maidenhood, I now know where it lies,” she replied, a blush warmed her cheeks. “A kiss does not endanger it.”

He shook his head. “What follows will.”

“You have stopped just now,” she countered. “Nothing must follow.”

“You do not understand the will of passion because you’ve never experienced its satisfaction.”

“Shall we not argue? Our time to rest grows short.”

He rose, went to sit on the boulder she had earlier. “I will guard your sleep.”

VAMPIRE'S LOVER

The world upended and whizzed past in a dizzying rush. Faelen’s hard shoulder dug into her belly, his hand pressed the small of her back. Tynan’s brain struggled to process the visual input. Her mental upheaval didn’t help. But, she identified the flagstone of the tapestry hall a heartbeat before she heard a heavy door slam and Faelen stopped. Down the length of his white denim clad legs, she saw him standing on shiny wood. Flickering fingers of yellow firelight twisted upon it.

The library.

Tynan contracted her lower back and righted herself. His strong arms released her with a sort of deliberate slowness. The second her feet touched ground, she stepped back and lashed out with all the hot emotion he provoked.

Faelen caught both her hands. “None of that.” The amber skin over his princely features seemed tighter, made them more pronounced.

As she had by the pool, Tynan experienced a sensation of danger. She did her best to ignore the visceral warning. “I’m done ‘taking your word’ and ‘trusting you’!”

Faelen scooped her up in his arms. “I’d hoped you’d listen.”

She fought him with every last reserve of strength. He restrained her with humiliating ease. “If you think the ‘private venue’ you’re carrying me to is your bed,” she panted, “you’re in for a news flash.” Her heart thundered. The combined stimuli of fear and fury made her light-headed. But, it wouldn’t stop her from fighting.

A moment later, he placed her upon the big red chaise before the ever crackling fire. She blinked, and found him half on top of her. He’d pinned her arms above her head with one powerful hand. A try proved his hold immovable. She realized he knelt beside the chaise, his torso covering hers.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you,” he told her, his deep voice like rough velvet. His damnably handsome face hovered inches above hers.

Lava like response bubbled to life, flowing slowly through her with red hot potency. She hated herself for it. “What? The chance to force yourself on me?”

“A kiss.” He lowered his head a fraction.

Fear and anger mixed with her unwilling sexual excitement. It made a powerful cocktail. She shivered. “Don’t you dare!”

His mouth brushed over hers, warm and gentle, more of a coaxing than the ravishment she expected. “Open for me.”

Tynan pressed her lips together. Her belly fluttered.

Another whisper of a kiss. “Let me taste you, ilshlava.”

The seductive words poured over her like honey. She surged up in rebellion, attempting to kick. He ended her feeble effort with a shift of his lower body. Still determined to fight, she tried to use her teeth. His lips closed over hers and his silky tongue swept into her mouth.

Faelen groaned, a deep throated masculine purr. His sensual invasion went through her in a full broadside of libidinous delight. She couldn’t seem to make herself bite the source. Her eyes closed. Mind numb with pleasure, she did the only thing that occurred to her: she tried to conceal her tongue. But, he changed the angle of his head, and deepened the kiss. His tongue touched hers in an almost unbearably intimate caress.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmured into her mouth. Catching her lower lip with his teeth, he gave a gentle tug. “Kiss me, mae ilshlava.”

Tynan knew she couldn’t continue even the illusion of resistance under this intense sexual coercion. She lifted her head from the chaise and returned the gesture. He released her hands and captured her face in his.

Nothing could have prepared her. He tasted wild and fresh as the air before a summer storm. Her breasts swelled against the wall of his chest. A sweet ache bloomed between her trembling thighs. She felt as if all the kisses she shared before, were only to punctuate the difference in their mediocrity and the cataclysmic carnality of this.

Tynan wrapped her arms around his corded neck. She clung to him; her only anchor amid a vortex of physical joy. When he pulled from her, she moaned a protest. Her tingling lips felt starved for his. By degrees, she opened her eyes.

“I want no misunderstanding between us,” he said. His face had hardened.

“I am vampyre.”

Reality came crashing back, bringing with it her wits. “What a nasty way to have my theory about this attraction proven. I can’t trust it.” She released him. “Not when it makes me forget the guy inspiring it has a serious mental problem.”

He made an animal sound of displeasure, eerily like the hiss she’d heard Blade make the night she and Faelen met. “Inside you’ve always known the truth. See me, Tynan.”

Faelen seemed to lose that smooth covering of urbanity. Although nothing of his appearance changed, he changed. A ripple of anxiety added its flavor to the mix of emotions seething inside her. She felt trapped and vulnerable, but didn’t struggle. Instead she went very still; the instinctual reaction of a prey animal in a predator’s presence.

“Get off me.” It disgusted her to hear the trepidation in her voice

Between his sculpted lips, snowy teeth glinted. “You begin to accept.”

Tynan considered another try at fighting him. The thought barely crossed her mind, when she found her arms pinned above her head again. Her heart thudded against her ribs, its rhythm syncopated and panicked.

She felt the yank, heard the rip a second before air rushed over her torso. Glancing down, she saw her ruined Henley parted down the front. The sight of her exposed bra shocked her. But, she had no time to react. A second later Faelen lowered his head and pressed his lips above her heart.

Prurient response lashed her. “No.”

“Feel what I can do,” he tempted. With his free hand, he unhooked her bra. It opened between her breasts. Their fullness kept it from parting. Before she could protest, his mouth moved over her skin. Gooseflesh spread in its wake. She felt his warm breath and an alarming rasp of sharp teeth. An almost violent trembling shook her limbs.

“Don’t,” she panted, fighting to control her body’s wanton reaction. “Stop it-”

His kiss ended her plea. The heated male demand in it evoked a melting low in her belly. Miserably, she realized if he did no more than strip her pants and slide into her, he’d find her wet and ready.

With that thought in mind, it made his unfastening the button of her jeans the more disconcerting. His big hand splayed across her belly. The muscles beneath quivered. Further protests died before she could speak them. Resistance cindered in the flame of desire. When his mouth left hers to blaze a fiery trail to the tops of her breasts, she couldn’t help herself. One animal response gave way to another. She clutched his shoulders.

Tynan didn’t know how long ago he’d released her. She didn’t care. Faelen pushed her opened bra apart. She gazed down at his dark head so near her tight nipples. Fascinated, she watched him rub his smooth cheek along the inner curve of her breast, lazily bringing him ever closer. His breath whispered over her sensitized skin, a heartbeat before she felt the sultry heat of his mouth close upon her.

Her back bowed. Vivid lust streaked from the erect peak to the pulsing flesh between her legs. Faelen spared not an inch of her breasts. He toyed with her, using his teeth and tongue as instruments of sensual torture.

He lifted his head. “Look what touching you does to me.”

Primitive sexual hunger sharpened the lines of his face. His eyes glowed the color of candlelight piercing crystal.

Tynan felt captured by his gaze. Transfixed, she let it chain her as he pulled off her boots and socks, unzipped her jeans and tugged them down her hips. Only her thin cotton panties shielded her now.

Faelen sat back on his heels. He unbuttoned his shirt and had it off almost too quickly for her to witness. At the sight of his bare torso, Tynan suffered a stab of feminine alarm. He rivaled a panther’s sleek, sinuous grace. And its danger. A sprinkling of shiny jet hair covered his wide chest. She’d never seen such an exquisite blending of lethal brawn and masculine elegance. Sensual greed replaced wariness.

He reached for her. His hands grasped her just above the knees, and slid up her thighs as he leaned forward. When he clasped her hips, his thumbs dipped beneath her panties. They smoothed over her most sensitive skin. Tynan blushed, felt the abundant wetness they met.

Faelen made a rumbling sound of masculine approval deep in his wide chest. A second later her panties sailed away and his mouth settled hotly over her.

Her body coiled, strung too taut to bear. A profound shiver wracked her from head to foot. The knot of passionate tension in her twisted. Even her scalp pulled tight.

*Mae ilshlava, Il tonai othere este.*

She heard it in her head. His voice twined through her brain in a seductive spiral. Carnal tension mounted so quickly, she feared only her skin held her together. Then, with an almost painful release, she climaxed.

Tynan heard her cry echo in the library. White hot pleasure lanced her, its ripples of ecstasy flowed outward over her. As if from a distance she knew her nails cut him. Then a backlash of orgasm whipped through her. Tynan’s hips bucked and she dug her fingers deeper.

Tears coursed down over her temples into her hair. Her lungs couldn’t seem to take in enough air. Every muscle in her body had turned to water.

A moment passed. Or many. She gazed down at his face inches from the apex of her thighs. She could smell his exotic scent. More pronounced with arousal. Provocative.

The ice water of reality dashed her in the face. Tynan scrambled from him, performing an unwilling encore of the earlier scene in the study. Half-falling from the chaise, she grabbed her jeans.

“Damn me,” she hissed, hooking her bra and trying to put on her jeans. Hopping in the process, she watched him come to his feet in a smooth surge. She saw strands of his hair pulled from the smooth que. Realizing she’d done it, she flushed. “I’ve made a titanic mistake. And I mean ‘Titanic’, huge and tragic.”

Faelen came toward her, all panther perfect grace and virility. His whiskey-colored eyes gleamed. “What troubles you most, ilshlava; realizing I am a vampire, or what you’ve let a vampire do to you?”

She yanked the edges of her torn shirt together and left her boots. “I regret everything!” Rushing toward the door, she heard a violent rip and cracking. Unable to deny her curiosity as she exited, Tynan glanced back.

Faelen stood over the ripped-in-half ruins of the red chaise.

Even from the door, she could see his elongated white canine teeth.

Vampire! her mind screamed.

Creatures of shadowy legends and violent gothic tales.

Vampire.

THE RING

Filled with turmoil, driven by his roiling ruminations, Kitt took a rocky path down to the shore. He walked without direction, or so he believed, until he found himself on the beach below Sonny’s house.

Lights glowed from inside the cottage, beacons in the ever deepening twilight. He’d begun to associate her with all the things he’d done without.

Kitt’s belly pulled taut in a rush of desire.

He shouldn’t see her tonight. Not in this mood.

Yet, somehow his feet carried him up a stony trail. He walked across her yard to the sunporch door, knocked.

She stepped around the corner from the hall and gazed toward him. Given the light inside and the darkness out, he doubted she could see him.

Seeing a few open windows, he called, “It’s me, Sonny.”

She wore a fluffy-looking white sweater over navy yoga pants. Her curls, still damp, hung loose to her shoulders in long spirals. As she came to admit him, her eyes seemed huge. Wary.

Primitive, predatory instinct spiked. For the first time, a woman, rather than a situation brought it out in him.

Kitt’s body reacted to her vulnerability. His hands flexed. He could almost feel her soft skin. Taste her lips

By the light of the single lamp, he watched her.

For a moment he thought she’d tell him to get lost. Time stretched, undefined, out of context in the intensity of anticipation.

Then, she unlocked the door.

Her heart thundered. She retreated a step as he entered.

Big and dark, Kitt dwarfed the sunporch. An elemental portion of her femininity sent a warning. Everything about him was exotic and dangerous. The heat in his obsidian eyes, his mountain lion’s grace, even the way the shadows caressed him.

Neither spoke.

Kitt reached behind him and locked the door.

Sonny’s skin tingled, liquid warmth pooled low in her pelvis and flowed outward to her limbs.

He stepped closer, cupped her jaw in his big hand. The scent of the subtle ambergris soap he used clung to it.

“What will you do?” His question emerged hushed and intimate. “Tell me ‘no’, keep your life simple, well-ordered?”

She thought of his words two days before, when he’d said for the first time in his life he couldn’t just leave. That he’d know he left something behind. Now, he’d bought a place near hers, she didn’t consider him just passing through.

Sonny shook her head. “No. Tonight I take a leap of faith.”

Kitt leaned close and brushed a kiss over her forehead, her nose, then her lips. Sonny knew her life would change tonight.

She reached for him, embraced him and that transformation.

Kitt bent, swept her into his arms and stood. He seemed in no hurry as he explored her mouth with leisured thoroughness. He always tasted like some wild honey and forbidden pleasure.

She felt light as a feather, feminine. The same sense of adventure he’d awakened in her the day at the cliffs roused again.

Sonny leaned back, gazed up at his dark, handsome face. “Take me to bed, Kitt.”

A wicked white smile flashed. “I thought you’d never ask, sunshine.”

He found her room with admirable precision, locked the door behind them and carried her to the bedside. He placed her on it, levered off his boots.

She watched him unbutton the gray shirt he wore. As it slid off his wide shoulders, she almost groaned. The product of dangerous physical demands, he appeared inhumanly perfect. His body a work of art.

Her heart turned over, and she experienced true lust for the first time.

Kitt walked to her dresser, took the matches from marble tray, and lit the quadruple-wick cinnamon candle on it. Even those simple motions rippled brawn under dark honey skin. Then, he cut the small lamp and came to sit beside her.

“Take down your hair.” Her command surprised her. He made her bold.

Kitt reached behind his head, pulled the band free. His glossy, brilliant brown hair fell in a liquid curtain to his broad shoulders. He leaned forward. She arched up to meet his kiss, inhaled his clean masculine aroma laced with ambergris.

Their tongues mated in sultry union. His big hand lifted the hem of her sweater, splayed across her belly. She buried her fingers in his thick silky tresses and did her best to absorb him.

BEFORE YOU ~ Coming Soon

Roth studied his on-and-off lover. Going with his gut instinct, he invited, “Come home with me, Adam. And, stay the night.”

“Okay.” That gloriously beautiful man squeezed his hand. “I was born Adam Taggart.”

Roth smiled, accepting the man’s at least partial surrender. “Good to finally have a name.”

“Go ahead. I’ll grab a few things and follow you.”

Roth didn’t think he should doubt him. However, he had a niggling reservation. “I felt like this the first night I met you. Afraid to look away for fear you’ll vanish.”

“I haven’t given you reason to trust me,” Adam replied, meeting his gaze.

“Now’s your chance.” Roth released his hand and turned toward the door. Adam caught his arm. About-facing, he saw the other man’s face coming close and groaned. Adam’s lips touched his in a surprisingly soft, almost chaste kiss. “Hurry,” Roth whispered.

“I have a better idea. Give me a few minutes and I’ll ride with you.”

Roth kind of melted inside. Standing patiently, he waited as Adam went into the bedroom, rifled around, and emerged with a small duffel. “Ready.”

Thrilled by the combination of new honesty and the fact he would have Adam for the night, Roth experienced a lightness in himself. So much time had passed since experiencing it, he almost didn’t know how react. He descended ahead, and moved quickly to open the car door. Closing it after his guest, he rounded the car and got behind the wheel.

Before he had cleared the complex parking lot, his companion’s long arm slid behind his neck and that beautiful mouth pressed to Roth’s jaw. Gooseflesh erupted in the wake as it moved along his jaw to his ear.

“Christ, Adam.” Roth struggled not to close his eyes as the man used his warm tongue to trace his ear, then delve inside the sensitive canal. “I have to drive.”

“You’re a doctor. You can concentrate on multiple tasks.”

Adam scooted his fine, narrow ass closer. Roth wanted to hold him. Steering and changing gears occupied his hands. “Don’t test me. You turn me on too much.”

Adam bit Roth’s throat, hand pulling his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. “I want to have the appetizer before the entrée.”

Roth had to force his attention to lights and signs as his erotically skilled lover used his mouth to send sexual lightning through him. Scintillating sensation raked him as Adam leaned down to suck and lick his nipples. “When I have you behind a locked door, I’m going to fuck you half to death.”

Adam massaged Roth’s erection as he sat upright to blow long, slow, warm breaths into Roth’s ear. “I look forward to it.”

Roth turned his head when he had the chance, stealing sultry kisses from his lover at intersections and lights. He loved the way Adam tasted.

They got caught at one light beside a Jeep-load of rowdy ladies. Adam devoted his attention to kissing Roth. He embraced Adam’s torso, savoring the man’s body half in his lap.

“Woo-hoo!”

“Yeah, boys! Share some of that stuff with us!”

The appreciative calls became more forward. “There’s four of us and two of you. Let’s take this party somewhere private!”

Adam reached over and lowered the electric window. In a flat tone, he said, “I found him first.” He raised the glass.

When they finally pulled into the garage, he slammed in the clutch, hit the door’s remote clipped to the visor above him, and turned off the ignition. He jumped out, leaving the keys hanging in it as he rounded the front of the car. Adam had Roth’s shirt off before they made it into the laundry room. Their mouths parted long enough for Adam’s to follow suit, then the aggressive mating of tongues continued as they stopped mid-kitchen.

Roth flexed his hips, rubbing his denim-covered erection against his lover’s. He broke the kiss, holding the other man’s jaw in his hands. Rubbing his thumbs over Adam’s cheekbones, he murmured, “Look at me.”

Those heavy black lashes lifted to reveal violet eyes liquid with passion. “You’re beautiful.”

“Is that what you want from me? A hot, beautiful fuck buddy to satisfy your body and leave the rest of you unknown?”

The sound of their accelerated respiration seemed very loud in the dim, quiet house. Adam swallowed. Roth tracked the working of the throat muscles. The hands moving over his chest promised sexual delight. However, Roth needed more.

“I don’t know,” his lover answered honestly. “Can we just take this one step at a time?” He leaned close, nibbling Roth’s lower lip and making rational thought difficult. “You’ve already broken my biggest barrier this evening.”

Seeing the new, and much appreciated softness in his lover’s eyes, Roth nodded. “Fair enough.”

BEYOND TEMPTATION ~ Coming Summer 2009

Avery watched Malec rise and hold out his hand to her. She accepted, letting him help her from the bed. She still wore the ankle boots, brown cords and cream tunic she had dressed in for having dinner with Brom. But, she knew with her curls left down, she would look freshly ravished.

She peeked at her dark lover. Although his shirt remained tucked into his trousers, barely, it gaped open, leaving a wide section of dark, hairless chest for the world to see. With the shirt’s lack of buttons and his tresses down as well, the impression of interrupted passion came through loud and clear.

Brom would know everything the instant he clapped eyes on her.

Malec asked quietly, “You wish me to change?”

It caused vicious growing pains as she replied, “No, I don’t have anything to hide.”

The walk downstairs stretched interminably. Butterflies the size of Whooping Cranes flapped in her belly. She gripped his big hand, feeling the elegant structure paired with dangerous brawn. He had that all over. Like an animal, he possessed that sort of predator’s perfection.

Avery dreaded having the two of them in the same room. Anxiety made her step falter as they descended. Malec swept her up in his arms. Memories from earlier returned. The mental snapshot of him in the doorway of her room at the inn caused the cranes to work their wings double time. She couldn’t believe she had fainted.

Hadn’t she?

Gazing up at him, she reached to touch the silky-course, close-trimmed mustache and goatee framing his beautiful, cruel lips. He paused at the foot of staircase. Those glowing hazel eyes appeared even more luminous. “My civility has limits, ma fetishe.”

Avery shifted in his hold, and he placed her upon her feet. “I know.”

As they reached the withdrawing room in the newest portion of the manor, Avery’s courage collapsed. She shivered as they entered. Brom paced like a caged lion. He halted at once. His bright green gaze went from her to Malec and back. A stark flash of pain vanished, replaced with fury.

“Well,” he began softly, burr thicker than ever, “at least I haven’t come to collect a corpse.” His gaze weighed so heavy upon her, she wished for a chair. Her legs felt untrustworthy.

Malec replied, “Finally, we meet. Malec de Beauchamp.”

“Bromwell Ramsey.” He smiled with a terrible lack of good-humor. “Pardon me if I don’t offer to shake hands.”

Malec returned an equally mirthless smile that caused her heart to cartwheel. “Pardon my doing the same.”

Brom’s pointed regard speared her. “If he holds you against your will, say the word. I’ll get you clear.”

Avery’s throat tightened. She whispered, “I came here unexpectedly. All the same, I wish to remain.”

The wounded heart flickered in his gaze. He turned his head. The muscles in his throat and jaw worked. When he returned his attention to her, she flinched. “How much more do I have to take?” He swallowed again. “I have a confession, Avery.”

She cringed. Malec’s thumb stroked her palm. “Brom, maybe –”

He held up one hand. “No, this needs to see daylight.”

Her dark lover purred, “By all means, Mr. Ramsey, a bedtime story for us.”

She wanted the floor to suck her into it. Her heart ached for him. What could she do?

Brom pulled a strong, palpable wall of pride around himself, a testimony to his self-possession. “Avery, remember when you questioned me about my choice of places for holiday?”

She felt dizzy with anticipation. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t a coincidence.”

She thought about the refrigerator in his room, the way it gave the impression he had settled in for perhaps longer than he had originally told her. “What?”

Brom’s wide shoulders appeared to square, assuming a more arrogant set. “I did need a holiday following a long recovery. What I didn’t share was my side mission.”

Her heart dropped.

Brom continued. “An old mate of mine lost his sister to a weird subculture. She acted dodgy, remote, and then Scotland Yard found her body. Then the cousin, Sophia Redding, dropped off radar as well. Your ‘friend’s’ name kept coming up.”

Malec’s hand flexed with hers. She did not know how to answer. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

“I know Sophia,” Malec responded, “and I doubt she wants to be found.”

Brom lowered his golden head for a moment. Avery’s heart twisted. She broke from Malec and rushed to press herself to Brom.

He embraced her. The sense of safety enveloping.

Malec rumbled.

Avery gazed up at Brom. “I’m not in danger. Thank you for worrying.” She touched his chest. Both men gave a territorial, masculine sound. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Malec growled, “Or not.”

Avery vibrated with anxiety. Having them together proved worse than she anticipated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brom stood over her, a pillar of masculine aggression. “Or, I find you.”

At risk of taunting her dark lover’s ire, Avery stretched up to kiss Brom’s cheek. He leaned down for it, then straightened. “I know you don’t have your things with you. Keep my cell.” Unhooking a case from his belt, he handed it to her. “The inn’s and my pager number are both in the phonebook. You call, I come.”

Malec spoke softly, “Not if I decide otherwise.”

Brom’s attention turned to him. “If the gate security’s any example of the rest here, getting in won’t take three minutes. A snatch and grab to take her from you won’t make me break a sweat.”

The tone of Malec’s reply chilled her blood. “You would have to kill me.”

Brom responded in an equally terrifying voice. “That’s a bonus.”

BLOOD LUST ~ Coming Soon

The sun had barely set when the anticipated knock sounded on the door. Cringing about what he had to do, he went to answer. Seth entered without invitation, hair drawn back, expression thunderous.

“Guess that bit about not being able to enter without invitation’s hooey.” Isaac closed the door.

“Myth.” He faced Isaac, stepping close and gazing down from his considerable height. The light in those burgundy eyes bordered on fiendish. “You left my bed while I rested, when I could not object.”

“Some of us have day jobs,” he returned. “I had a really good time. But, you can’t afford the kind of attention you’d get in association with me. And, I can’t afford for my predominantly heterosexual demographic finding out I’ll bat for the other team. You keep to your turf, I keep to mine.” He exhaled shakily, feeling more vulnerable and naked than he had the previous night in bed with the man. Vampire, he mentally corrected.

“You jest.” His tone clearly betrayed that he didn’t care to have anyone fool with him.

“No.” Isaac braced himself. “I’ve thought it through and made up my mind this thing with us is a piss-poor idea.”

“We share a passion that transcends gender and species. Not honoring that would be a great wrong.”

Put like that, it made him seem like a real asshole. “I agree it’s unfair. All the same, I have to think about my career.” Isaac saw Seth reaching out, and when he attempted to intercept his hand, he found himself pulled into those long, powerful arms. Hot lust ripped through him as memories of their time together swept through his brain like clips from an erotic movie. Everything in him wanted to melt into the hard body pressing his, and offer this creature of legend and fantasy anything he wished. “I mean it,” Isaac managed to whisper.

“As do I.” His mouth covered Isaac’s: hot, damp, demanding.

He tried to summon the will to fight. His body responded so forcefully, it made reason difficult. Averting his head, he panted, “You’re doing the mind control thing.”

“I’m not.” His blood teeth sank into Isaac’s throat and the universe shrank to the beating of his heart and the dangerous, seductive pleasure dragging through his body.

He clung to Seth’s much larger body, kept upright by his arms alone. “You’re … stronger than me … mentally and physically. Don’t force … me.” In a heartbeat he lay upon the couch.

Seth stood across the room looking more feral than the pack he hunted with. His chest heaved and his fangs had not retracted. “I have eluded your kind for over a century, and I would not cause you difficulty with your career. No one ever need know about me.”

Dazed, but no where near so much as previously, Isaac sat up and put his feet on the floor. “Trying to stay smart about this. Not think with my dick.”

“I have marked you,” Seth revealed quietly, confirming what Isaac had suspected. “Others of my species will sense it and come seeking what attracted me.”

“Then, I’ll send them packing, too.”

A cold chuckle before them made the words more potent. “You think they'll politely release you as I just did? Few of my breed have the self-possession, or ever care to indulge their food source.”

“That what I am to you?” The question slipped out before he could check himself.

“No, Isaac.” He appeared to forcibly compose himself. “You’re the one capable of making a pet of me.” Leveling that potent gaze upon him, Seth added, “For the taste of your mouth alone, you could command me.”