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Authors: Christina Phillips

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BOOK: Bloodlust Denied
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They came together, and his grip on her fingers was more possessive than decorum allowed. She returned the pressure because what did
she
care for the etiquette of this time?

His green eyes glittered in approval. “Your social status is certainly elevated, Morana.” He gave emphasis to her name, daring her to reprove his familiarity. “Do you care to share the secret of your success?”

She followed the prescribed steps of the dance, so elegant, so refined, yet all she wanted was to throw off these social restraints and dance the way she had always danced. The way she had to dance, melding her body into the music and once again seducing this hypnotic stranger until he roared his release to the heavens.

Her breath caught in her throat and she blinked rapidly to clear the haze of lust that floated through her mind.

“There’s no secret to my success.” She hoped he couldn’t hear how erratically her heart thudded against her breast. “I am who I have always been.”

They parted, yet their eyes remained locked. When they once again faced each other his cynical glance incinerated her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

“And who is that?” His question asked far more than the mere words uttered. “The same bewitching dancer you were three years ago?”

She hadn’t been the same since the moment they had met.

“I’m the Lady Harriet’s great-niece.”

Again he clasped her fingers as they drew together. But this time he angled into her body, shockingly intimate, and his breath scorched her ear.

“Lady Harriet has no great-niece. Don’t fuck with me, Morana.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, pooled between the juncture of her thighs.

“You’re mistaken, Your Grace.” Her voice was breathless, as though she were aroused. Of course she was aroused. No man had touched her since that night in the alley, since that night when everything she believed in, every certainty she had thought absolute, had crumbled.

“I’m never mistaken, Miss Craven.”

“Nor am I.” Except about him. Her greatest mistake of all.

“Who is your protector?” He glanced around the room searching out the man in question. “Gods.” For a brief second he looked startled before returning his focus to her. “Your fiddler plays.”

“Exceedingly well.” Again they parted but she could feel his eyes on her, burning her, branding her despite their separation.

His gloved hand claimed hers. “I have a theory, Miss Craven.”

“I’m eager to hear it, Your Grace.”

Once again they faced each other. “The fiddler is not your pimp.”

She understood why he might have assumed such a thing. Thanatos, a shadow in the darkness, had coaxed ethereal magic from his violin as she and the duke had reached shattering orgasm, but his remark still stung.

She forced a brittle smile. “That’s correct.”

He inclined his head in mocking appreciation. “He’s your lover.”

“Is he?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Although possibly he’s impotent.” The duke shrugged as if it made not the slightest difference. “Regardless, he is your protector and he enjoys watching you fuck other men.”

She stumbled, caught herself, and flashed him a resentful glare when his fingers tightened around hers, steadying her.

“You possess a vivid imagination.”

Green eyes flayed her. “I possess an excellent memory.”

So did she. The knowledge flared between them, volcanic and deadly. “And yet you are wrong.”

“Then enlighten me. You fascinate me, Miss Craven, and I’m determined to discover exactly what you are.”

If he ever discovered exactly what she was, he’d go insane. Vampires didn’t exist in polite society, and their immortal slayers were unheard of. Or perhaps he would merely think
she
was insane and attempt to have her locked away in an asylum. Either way, she had no intention of allowing him to unearth such devastating information.

“And do you always get your way?” She challenged him with a haughty glance.

“Always.” The dance concluded, yet he did not relinquish her hand nor acknowledge the musicians. His entire focus appeared centered upon her.

“I fear this time you face disappointment.”

He pulled her toward him in a most ungentlemanly manner. Desire quivered along her skin and spiraled around her sensitive nipples causing them to ache with need. She stared up into his eyes and tried to convince herself all she wanted from him was another mindless fuck in a darkened corner.

“My dear Miss Craven.” His erotic whisper danced across her heated cheek. “I don’t take disappointment very well.”

She attempted to pull her hand from his, but failed. But then, she didn’t try too hard.

“I believe everyone is staring at us, Your Grace.” Not that she cared. Yet she should, for to draw attention to herself was foolhardy in the extreme.

“Let them stare.” His green gaze bore into her, and liquid heat stirred deep within her pussy. “Let them see how I’ve claimed you.”

Her mouth dried and senses spun. This was what she wanted and yet she couldn’t allow his arrogance to go unchallenged.

“We’re no longer in a filth-strewn back alley.”

“If that is your preference, it can easily be arranged.”

Her pulses fluttered. Danger reeked in every erratic breath she took and yet she hadn’t felt this intoxicated with being flesh and blood for more years than she could count.

Three years ago
.

But then only briefly, a blink in her existence, a moment of madness she had never imagined could be recaptured.

“Are you propositioning me, Your Grace?”

His smile was devoid of warmth. “Would you vanish on me once again if I were?”

So he did recall their conversation. She wondered, as she had then, what proposition he could possibly offer a woman he had just taken in a squalid alley.

She deliberately glanced at his groin, and was gratified to note the bulge in his breeches appeared larger than ever. “That depends upon your proposition.”

He raised her hand to his lips.

“Meet me outside in ten minutes.” His lips brushed her gloved knuckles yet she could feel the heat of his breath in the marrow of her bones. “I don’t care what excuse you give your chaperone or your lover or whoever else you are with tonight. Just be there.”

Before she could respond, he escorted her back to Lady Harriet, where he proceeded to charm the elderly lady until she all but swooned. Then he turned to her.

“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Craven.” His eyes promised that he expected them to enjoy far more pleasure before this night was out.

“My dear,” Lady Harriet fluttered her hand against her ample bosom as they watched him stroll from them. “I can scarcely believe you attracted the attention of the duke. He dances so rarely! And he appears quite besotted with you. You are quite the object of envy among all the other young ladies here tonight.”

Morana dragged her attention from the duke’s broad shoulders, so magnificently enhanced by the cut of his black coat. Poor Lady Harriet would likely suffer an apoplexy if she discovered exactly why the duke was so besotted with her.

“Is he a recluse?”

It didn’t matter whether he was or not. If she had any sense she would refuse his command to meet with him. She would beckon Thanatos and they would melt into the night, the way they always melted into the night. And the duke would be left to curse her name for leaving him with a pounding erection and an unfulfilled promise.

But for too long she’d waited for this. For too long she’d dreamed about meeting him again, and now that she had there was no way in Hades she was going to walk away.

Not tonight.

The contract could wait.

“Oh he is quite sociable during the Season,” Lady Harriet said and Morana frowned at the oddly glazed expression in the old woman’s eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Lady Harriet had enjoyed one too many glasses of ratafia. “Quite sociable altogether, but in a reserved manner, you understand. And he rarely invites anyone to his estate. Most odd.”

Morana glanced at Thanatos and he caught her eye, curiosity sizzling.

“I am a little faint,” she said to Lady Harriet. “I need a breath of air.” She patted her flushed cheek with the back of her hand and hoped the other woman wouldn’t insist on accompanying her.

Lady Harriet smiled in a strangely vacant manner as though she didn’t find Morana’s comment in the least bit untoward. “Of course, my dear.”

With studied nonchalance, she weaved her way toward the orchestra, and Thanatos, without missing a note, angled his body in her direction.

“You have an assignation.” It wasn’t a question.

She flipped open her fan to hide their conversation. “I have to get him out of my head, Thanatos. Perhaps one more tumble will cure me of this addiction.”

Thanatos looked unconvinced. “Is this wise? My heart aches to see you in such pain. Meeting him again can’t help, Morana.”

“I need this, Thanatos.” She glanced over her shoulder, but the duke was nowhere to be seen. “And what does it matter if we do meet on occasion? He’ll never discover what I truly am, and when the time comes for us to part—then at least I have some memories to warm my heart in the future.”

“Then wait a moment. Let me accompany you, to ensure your safety.”

She smiled, and couldn’t refrain from brushing her hand against his arm, a sisterly touch of love. Their souls were entwined, their fates welded together. A facet of the contract, and they rarely allowed each other out of their sight.

“Don’t concern yourself. He can’t hurt me.” Once again, she glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll return shortly.”

Before he could respond, she turned and made her way through the press of bodies, not wanting to keep the duke waiting in case he changed his mind. She knew she played with the fires of Hades by encouraging a mortal lover but didn’t care. She would take this coupling and, if she could manage it, would arrange another time when she and the duke could meet again.

At the door, she employed her limited gift of illusion on those who would obstruct her and they glanced away from her, as if she was no longer there. She drew in a sharp breath and fought the dizziness that swept through her mind in a shocking wave. She hadn’t wandered far from Thanatos, but never before had she used her gift without him by her side. It hadn’t occurred to her his immediate proximity was so vital for the successful employment of her powers.

She hesitated, suddenly uncertain of the wisdom of her plan. Should she wait until he could accompany her outside? They both knew the contract bound them together as securely as two halves of the whole, but surely there could be no danger to their existence with such an insignificant distance between them?

The unsavory possibility hovered in her mind and tugged at her heart. She looked back into the assembly rooms, but could no longer see Thanatos. Yet she saw how her diluted magic was already fading on those around her.

Of course she and Thanatos would survive a few moments separation. It wasn’t as if she intended to go farther than a darkened corner. There was no danger of their souls severing and life-force expiring.

With a deep breath, she stepped outside and before she realized what was happening, a shadow loomed over her. Soft blackness wrapped around her like an iron-bound cloud and she was bundled unceremoniously across the cobblestone path.

Chapter Five

 

“Be still,” Alexius commanded as he dragged her through the shadows toward his waiting carriage. Damn, but she was strong for a human female. “I’m protecting your reputation, woman.”

Her struggles ceased, but a wave of such astonishment emanated from her that he almost laughed aloud.

And it was, without doubt, a most humorous situation. Lifting her into his arms he climbed into his carriage and deposited her on the richly upholstered seat as Evan secured the door.

She tore off the black cloak and glowered at him. In the faint glow from the small lamp affixed to the door, her carefully curled hair was now ruffled and wild and her breasts heaved with indignation above the square cut of her fashionable muslin gown.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He shot her a wolfish grin as he tossed his gloves aside. “That is hardly the language I’d expect to hear from a lady of the
ton
.”

She opened her mouth at the same instant as the carriage jerked forward, and instead of shooting more venom his way her breath gusted out in shock, and her eyes widened in clear alarm.

“Are you kidnapping me?” She sounded aghast and jerked the velvet curtain aside to peer into the night.

“Certainly not.” Of course he was. “I’m merely putting some distance between us and the assembly rooms so none of the revelers hear your screams of pleasure as I fuck you.”

The curtain fell back into place as she turned to glare at him. “Stop this carriage instantly.”

“My dear Morana.” He enjoyed the way she stiffened with affront at his mocking endearment. “You’re in no position to give orders.”

BOOK: Bloodlust Denied
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