Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (136 page)

And if Max appeared a little put-off by her sassiness, well, that was his problem. Flirting never hurt anyone, and he looked as if he could use something a little more intense than mere flirtation anyway.

“Did you want me to run a bath for you?” Max said with exaggerated sweetness as he gestured toward the adjoining room. There was a deep, white claw-footed tub on a floor covered by small black and white tiles. “Brush your hair? Trim your nails?”

Now it was Savina’s turn to pause. She couldn’t tell whether he was joking or merely being aggravating, and the expression on his face was bland. Very bland. “What am I? A dog? Wait, don’t answer that.” She was rewarded by the faintest twitch of his lips beneath his whiskers. “I will need help with my corset, though,” she added archly. “One of Estevan’s unique creations—I can’t seduce a vampire without it. I didn’t think I’d need it until tomorrow night, but…”

“Right, then. Perhaps you’d better call a maid for help with that.” He grimaced and rubbed his beard. It sounded like he was using sandpaper.

Savina had finished unhooking her current undergarment and flung it over the screen, where it landed on the floor in front of him. “Surely the great Max Denton isn’t intimidated by a few hooks and laces,” she taunted.

He’d bent to pick it up, so she couldn’t see his face—and he didn’t deign to respond. By the time he stood, she’d already begun to struggle into the special garment Estevan had created for her, inspired by a model that had been worn by Victoria Gardella back in 1821. That particular corset had been designed by the ingenious Miro. Fortunately, Estevan’s corset hooked up the front with surprising ease, and her nimble fingers made short work of the task. She would add the final accessories once the back was laced up properly.

“What was so important you had to lie next to a chamber pot for four hours?” she asked, fastening the last connector. “I’m all ears.”

“I’ll tell you about that in a minute…but are you certain you want to go through with your plan tonight?” Max asked—instead of explaining why he was there. “Remind me again why you feel it’s necessary to seduce the man. Who, I might remind you, is now a vampire.”

She looked at him from over the top of dressing screen. “How else am I going to gain his trust? You know how skittish Rastingard is. This is our only chance to be in a place where he’s not on his own turf.”

“Speaking of which.” Max had an odd expression on his face. “I’m assuming that when you devised this plan of seduction, you weren’t aware that Rastingard is a woman.”

Savina stilled. “A woman? Rastingard is a
woman
? That’s impossible. I saw him.”

“From a distance.”

“Well, yes, but, he was wearing trousers and a coat and tie and…” She realized how ridiculous that sounded. “Well. So Rastingard is a woman who dresses like a man. Maybe to hide her identity? Either way, that puts a damper on things.”

“Ah. Yes, well, I was beginning to wonder if you had—er—Sapphic tendencies.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Isn’t it obvious—” She snapped her mouth closed before she said something much too revealing. Heat rushed up from her chest to her throat and cheeks.

He lifted his brows as if to encourage her to continue, but she remained silent. After a moment, he said, “Well, then, that must necessarily change your plan to get close to Purcell in order to get into Rastingard’s boudoir. I suppose the moonlight picnic must be cancelled.”

But Savina was shaking her head. “Definitely not. Regardless of how this new information impacts my plan to obtain Rastingard’s key, I still need to get to know Purcell in…er…in a private setting.”

She stopped abruptly and bit her lip, returning her attention to adjusting the cotton and whalebone corset that stretched tightly across her breasts, flattening them into a smooth line. The garment made her torso one long, sleek shape to just above her hips. Four tapes hung, two on each side, front and back, to which her stockings would be attached.

She held on to two of the ornamental finials on top of the divider screen and said earnestly, “And, incidentally, I’m not going to actually seduce him. Not that it’s any of your business what I do or don’t do in the privacy of my boudoir—or anyone else’s. I only want to find out why Purcell wears that leather wristband all the time. What he’s hiding beneath it.” She saw the moment Max understood, for his intense eyes became even sharper.

“Ah,” he said, nodding sagely. “You believe
Purcell
is the one who stole the chest instead of Nellito, and that
he
has the scars on him from the protection. And that’s why he wears that leather cuff.”

She nodded, her chin bumping the top of the screen. Time to come clean and tell him all. “Yes. I
know
my father was innocent, that someone else framed him, so I’ve been trying to put the pieces together for years. Alexander Purcell was in London at the same time the chest was stolen, and he’s the only inner circle member of the Tutela who was there at that time. It had to be a mortal who took the chest, and who other than a member of the Tutela? The fact that he wears the leather gauntlet all the time confirms my suspicions. So you see, I don’t really have to go all the way and seduce him. Which is a good thing,” she said, ducking down behind the barrier to fasten her stockings to the garters, “because I’ve never done it before.”

Savina heard a strange gurgling sound, and when she straightened up, she saw that Max had risen from his chair and was standing right next to the screen.

“Are you utterly
mad
?” he roared—in tone, not precisely in volume. His voice was low enough, but at the same time, tight and furious and incredulous. “You’ve never—
what
in the bloody hell are you thinking? Are you—”

“I’m thinking,” she said firmly, “that this is probably the only way I can prove my father’s innocence, because the minute you or any other Venator has the opportunity, you’re going to stake Purcell and there will go my chance.”

And
whoa
. He was standing very close to her all of a sudden. So close, she could see a tiny dimple-like movement near his jaw and even discern the black flecks in his dark brown irises. The top of his white shirt was open, revealing a long, deep vee of sun-browned throat. Savina swallowed hard. If the screen wasn’t between them, they would be closer than partners in a Vienna waltz. Her pulse jolted and suddenly her mouth was very dry. She had to drag her attention from
his
mouth and back to the matter at hand.

“I need my corset laces tightened,” she said. “I’ll…call a maid.”

“I’ll do it,” he replied. His voice was rough and low.

Maybe not the best option, now that she was fully aware of Max Denton—the
man
, not so much the lethal vampire slayer. Savina realized her palms had gone a little damp and her chest and face felt unusually warm.

“Are you sur—”

“Come here, Savina.”

The low, gentle demand made something flip sharply deep in her belly, and all at once, she wasn’t certain at all about anything except…she was
really
attracted to Max Denton.

Embarrassingly so. So attracted, so acutely aware of him she was certain it was emblazoned across her face in the heat that surely turned her cheeks pink, and in the rapid pounding of her pulse.

Nevertheless, she obeyed, coming out from behind the shield of the dressing screen all the while doing her best to seem nonchalant and unaffected. She had no idea whether she succeeded, for the moment his fingers brushed the back of her fabric-bound spine, that rush of awareness became almost unbearable.

Savina realized she was holding her breath, waiting for him to draw the laces tighter along her torso…and then a heartbeat later, realized he hadn’t moved at all. Time seemed to still as his hands shifted from the center of her back upward to settle onto her bare shoulders. She quivered a little when the rough pads of his fingers brushed the soft, sensitive skin there, landing on either side of the narrow straps of her undergarment. She curled her trembling fingers into her palms.

“Max, are you certain you know what you’re doing?” she managed to say teasingly, in a great triumph of self-possession. “Would you like me to call for help?”

His fingers slid lightly down her arms, raising little prickles all over her skin. “The better question is, are you certain you know what
you’re
doing?”

With a firm grip, he turned her around to face him. He was a lot taller than she was; she hadn’t had occasion to realize that her head would fit just beneath his chin—and he smelled like something fresh and male, and, well, a little dusty too. His dark, curly hair tumbled in an unruly mop around his ears, brushing his neck. And at this close proximity, she could see more than a few gray hairs among the waves. Though his facial hair had grown into an excellent disguise, it was trimmed neatly around his mouth, easily revealing the shape of his lips.

“What…what do you mean?” she asked, then realized she was talking like one of those silly girls in the silent films or dime novels.

“Perhaps,” he said, sliding one hand around the back of her head, “it’s not a good idea for an inexperienced woman to make a vampire her first attempt at seduction.” He brushed a finger over her lower lip, his attention fixed there. “Will you know what to do when he does…this?”

Savina barely had time to drag in a breath before his lips covered hers. She stifled a moan at the rush of pleasure that swamped her, taking her by surprise with its force and heat. This kiss was hardly anything like the previous one, when he’d been half asleep.

This one was hard and deep and thorough. His tongue stroked her, slick and slow as she opened her mouth to taste him, to take him in. Their mouths molded together, slipping and sliding as he delved deeply, coaxing and leading, then tangling with her, turning to nibble on her top lip. The soft prickles of his mustache tickled gently.

Max shivered a little, his arms pulling her close as she rested her hands on the tops of his broad, powerful shoulders, still kissing him.

He slid his lips away, the soft bristles of his beard dragging over her cheek as he nipped lightly at her jaw. “And what if he does…this?” he said, very low, very close to her ear…then lowered to nibble on the sensitive area beneath her earlobe. His breath was warm and delicate against her skin. “Will you know what to do then, Savina?”

Her eyes were closed, and she shivered at the explosion of sensation from warm lips and tongue, pleasure daggering down into her belly and between her legs. He kissed and licked, gently sucking at the sweet spot along the side of her throat, mimicking the action of a vampire…but so gently and seductively she was well aware he was a man.

When Max slid one hand down along her spine to pull her close to him, she felt his arousal, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her belly. Savina shivered with her own desire, recognizing in the back of her lust-fogged mind that this time he knew
damn well
whom he was kissing.

She closed her eyes, feeling the strength and power of his long, hard body pressed along hers…then something happened with his fingers, and all at once, her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders, and there was something behind her…

The bed. She jolted backward, and Max lifted her up onto the high mattress.

“And this?” he murmured, looking down at her with hot, dark eyes that made her go breathless. His hands smoothed firmly down over the front of her corset-bound torso. “What will you do then, Savina?”

“I’ll do this,” she replied as she clutched the front of his shirt and dragged him down to her. He joined her readily, his weight dipping the bed as he levered himself above her. A knee parted her thighs, sliding up and against her. She arched into it a little, delighted by the hot, delicious sensation throbbing between her legs, and the tantalizing sensation when he pressed gently…but she wanted more.

“And this,” she whispered. One of his buttons had come loose, and she finally touched his skin: warm, smooth, solid. His heartbeat pounded beneath her fingers, and she curved her hands up and around his neck, beneath the crisp cotton of his shirt, pulling him down to kiss him once more. She wanted to taste him there too, at the juncture of throat and shoulder, but the tight enclosure of the corset made it difficult to bend upward—and even harder to catch her breath.

“And…this,” she said, pulling her mouth away from his. With a neat flip of her fingers, she had the top three corset hooks undone in a trice. Savina sighed with pleasure as her breasts were freed from their encasement, released beneath her soft, fine chemise. Her erect nipples were clearly outlined by the thin fabric, generous points at the tops of dome-like mounds. Max made a sound deep from deep in his chest, and she looked up.

He’d paused above her, propped on one palm as his gaze met hers. The expression there was dark and hot, and yet reserved. “Savina,” he said. The rough, unsteady sound of her name was even more arousing, for she could hear the desire in his voice.

She was going to leave
this
to go kiss Alexander Purcell? A vampire? What sort of fool was she?

“What next, Max?” she murmured, shifting her hips a little more, pressing upward into the pressure from his knee as her eyes slid closed. He groaned in the back of his throat, and she shifted again, a little more saucily. “What would he do next?”

He spewed out a warm breath and brushed away some of the hair from her face. Then his large hand trailed down to cover one of her breasts, settling over the thin fabric barrier of her chemise. “This.”

He pulled the loose neckline down so one nipple popped free. When his dark head bent so he could kiss the jutting red tip, Savina gave a little moan at the feathery sensation, light and warm—and then her eyes bolted open as he closed his lips around her, hot and wet and slick, sucking and tasting and drawing her deep into the heat of his mouth. All the while, his tongue made sleek, sensuous circles around the tight, wrinkled point.

She couldn’t hold back a soft cry at the intense pleasure, and she bit her lip to keep from making more sounds…but it was impossible not to respond, not to arch into him, not to curl her fingers into his shoulders, not to grind a little harder against his leg as he teased and taunted and tasted her. She was full and slick and throbbing. Her blood pounded, her breath came in short little pants…and when Max shifted, his hand sliding down to replace the knee he’d slipped between her legs, Savina’s eyes flew open again.