Dark Lover (31 page)

"Christ. No."

Well, that was a relief of sorts. Although it was clear what he thought of relationships.

She took a sip of wine. "Do you have a woman in your life at all?"

"No."

"So who do you feed from?"

Long silence. Not an encouraging one.

"There was someone."

"Was?"

"Was."

"Since when?"

"Recently." He shrugged. "We were never close. It was a bad match."

"Who do you go to now?"

"God, you really are a reporter, aren't you?"

"Who?" she pushed.

He looked at her for a long time. And then his face changed, the aggression seeming to bleed out of him. His fork came gently down to his plate and his other hand was placed palm up on the table. "Ah, hell."

In spite of his curse, the air suddenly seemed softer.

She didn't trust the change in his mood at first, but then he whipped off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. When he put the lenses back in place, she watched his chest expand, as if he were collecting himself.

"God, Beth, I think I wanted it to be you. In spite of the fact that I'm not going to be around for long after your change." He shook his head. "Man, I am one stupid SOB."

Beth blinked, feeling a kind of sexual heat that he would drink her blood to survive.

"But don't worry," he said. "That's not going to happen. And I'll find you another male fast."

He pushed his plate away, food left half-eaten on the china.

"When was the last time you fed?" she asked, thinking of the powerful craving she'd watched him battle.

"Last night."

Pressure in her chest made her feel as if her lungs were clogged. "But you didn't bite me."

"It was after you left."

She pictured him with another woman in his arms. When she reached for her wineglass, her hand shook.

Wow
. Her emotions were breaking all kinds of land speed records tonight. She'd been terrified, pissed off, insanely jealous.

She had to wonder what was next.

Happiness, she had a feeling, probably wasn't it.

Chapter Twenty-six

Beth put the wineglass back down, wishing she had more control over herself.

"You don't like that, do you?" Wrath said in a low voice.

"What?"

"Me drinking from another female."

She laughed darkly, despising herself. Him. The whole situation. "You want to rub my nose in it?"

"No." He paused. "The idea you will someday score another male's skin with your teeth and take his blood inside of you makes me want to stab something."

Beth stared at him.

So why don't you stay with me
? she thought.

Wrath shook his head. "But I can't let myself think like that."

"Why not?"

"Because you cannot be mine. No matter what I said before."

Fritz came in, cleared, and then served dessert. Whole strawberries on a gold-rimmed plate. Some chocolate sauce on the side to dip them in. A little cookie.

Normally, Beth would have polished the lot of it off in high gear, but she was too shaken to eat.

"You don't like strawberries?" Wrath asked as he put one into his mouth. His bright white teeth bit through the red flesh.

She shrugged, forcing herself to look away from him. "I do."

"Here." He picked a berry off his plate and leaned toward her. "Let me feed you."

His long fingers held the stem firmly, his arm poised in the air.

She wanted to take what he offered. "I can feed myself."

"Yes, you can," he said softly. "But that's not the point."

"Did you have sex with her?" she asked.

His eyebrows flickered. "Last night?"

She nodded. "When you feed, do you make love to her?"

"No. And let me answer your next question. I'm not sleeping with anyone but you right now."

Right now
, she thought.

Beth looked down at her hands, feeling stupidly hurt.

"Let me feed you," he murmured. "Please."

Oh, grow up
, she told herself. They were adults. They were tremendous in bed together, and that was more than she'd ever had from a man before. Was she really going to walk away just because she was going to lose him?

Besides, even if he promised her a rosy future, a man like him wasn't going to stick around. He was a fighter who ran with a pack of guys just like himself. Home-and-hearth stuff would be boring as hell to him.

She had him now. She wanted him now.

Beth tilted forward in her chair, opened her mouth, and put her lips around the strawberry, taking it whole. Wrath's nostrils flared as he watched her bite down. When some of the sweet juice escaped and dripped onto her chin, he hissed.

"I want to lick that off," he muttered under his breath. He reached forward and took hold of her jaw. Lifted his napkin.

She put her hand on his. "Use your mouth."

A low sound, from deep inside his chest, cut through the room.

Wrath leaned toward her, tilting his head. She caught a flash of his fangs as his lips opened and his tongue came out. He stroked the juice from her skin and then pulled away.

He stared at her. She looked back at him. The candles flickered.

"Come with me," he said, holding out his hand.

Beth didn't hesitate. She put her palm against his and let herself get drawn up from the table. He took her into the drawing room, over to the picture and through the wall. Down the stone staircase they went, his presence immense in the darkness.

When they got to the bottom landing, he led her into his chamber, and she looked at the bed. It had been made, the pillows neatly lined up against the headboard, the satin sheets smooth as still water. Her body flushed as she remembered what it had felt like to have him on top of her, moving inside of her.

They were headed there again, she thought. And she couldn't wait.

A deep growl made her look over her shoulder. Wrath's gaze was leveled on her as if she were a target.

He'd read her thoughts. He knew what she wanted. And he was prepared to deliver.

He walked up to her, and she heard the door shut and lock. She looked around, wondering if there was someone else in the room. There wasn't.

His hand went to her neck, and he angled her head back with his thumb. "I've wanted to kiss you all night long."

She braced herself for a hard one, ready for all he could give her, except that when his lips came down on hers they were languorous. She could feel the passion in the taut lines of his body, but he clearly refused to be hurried. When he lifted his head, he smiled at her.

She was totally used to the fangs, she thought.

"We're going to take this slow tonight," he said.

But she stopped him before he kissed her again. "Wait. I have something I have to… Do you have any condoms?"

He frowned. "No. Why?"

"Why? Ever hear of safe sex?"

"I don't carry those kinds of diseases, and you can't give me anything."

"How do you know?"

"Vampires are not susceptible to human viruses."

"So you can have sex all you want? Without worrying about anything?"

When he nodded, she found herself feeling a little ill. God, how many women he must have—

"And you're not fertile," he said.

"How do you know that?"

"Trust me. We'd both know if you were. Besides, you won't have your first needing for another five years or so after the change. And even when you're in it, conception isn't guaranteed because—"

"Hold on. What's this needing thing?"

"Females are fertile only every ten years or so. Which is a blessing."

"Why?"

He cleared his throat. Actually seemed a little embarrassed. "It's a dangerous time. All males respond on some level if they're in the vicinity of a female in her need. They can't help themselves. Fights can break out. And the female, she, ah… the cravings are intense. Or so I've heard."

"You don't have children?"

He shook his head. Then frowned. "God."

"What?"

"To think of you going through the needing." His body swayed, as if he'd closed his eyes. "To be the one you used."

Sexual heat came out of him in a rush. She could actually feel a hot gust move the air.

"How long does it last?" she asked in a husky voice.

"Two days. If the female is… serviced well and fed properly, she rebounds quickly."

"And the man?"

"The male's totally used up when it's over. Milked dry. Drained of blood, too. It takes longer for him to recover, but I've never heard one complain. Ever." There was a pause. "I'd love to be the one who relieves you."

Abruptly, he stepped back. She felt a cold draft as his mood changed and the shifting heat dissipated.

"But that will be some other male's duty. And privilege."

His cell phone started ringing.

As he tore it out of his inner pocket with a snarl, she felt for whoever it was.

"
What
?" There was a pause.

She headed for the bathroom to give him some privacy. And because she needed a little herself. The images in her head were enough to make her dizzy. Two days. Of nothing but him?

When she came back out. Wrath was sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, brooding. He'd taken off his jacket, and his shoulders looked very wide in that black shirt. As she approached, she caught a glimpse of a handgun under the coat and shivered a little.

He looked up as she sat beside him. She wished she could read him better and blamed the dark lenses. Reaching out to his face, she stroked the harsh cut of his cheek, the strong length of his jaw. His mouth opened slightly, as if her touch made him short of breath.

"I want to see your eyes," she said.

He pulled back a little. "No."

"Why not?"

"Why do you care what they look like?"

She frowned. "You can be hard to read with those glasses on. And right now I wouldn't mind knowing what you're thinking."

Or feeling, even more important.

Finally, he shrugged. "Suit yourself."

When he made no move to take off the lenses, she reached up to the temple pieces and slid the sunglasses from his face. His eyelids were down, his lashes dark against his skin. He didn't open his eyes.

"Won't you show me?"

His jaw tightened.

She looked at the glasses. When she lifted them to the candlelight, she could barely see through them at all, they were so dark.

"You're blind, aren't you?" she said softly.

His lips curled back, but not in a smile. "Worried that I can't take care of you now?"

She wasn't surprised by the hostility. She imagined a man like him would hate any weakness he had.

"No, I'm not worried about that at all. But I would still like to see your eyes."

With a flash of movement, Wrath dragged her across his lap, holding her off balance so it was only the strength of his arms that kept her from hitting the floor. His mouth was set in a grim line.

Slowly, he lifted his lids.

Beth gasped.

His irises were the most extraordinary color. A luminescent pale green, so pale they were almost white. Framed by his thick, dark lashes, set deeply beneath his brows, his eyes gleamed like they were lit from inside his skull, all but popping out of his face like lightbulbs.