Enraptured (13 page)

It never had before, and truthfully it still
didn’t. It bothered him she didn’t like it, but she didn’t
understand what it was like to deal with the impulses and urges he
had to deal with day in and day out. “No, things are different for
me.”

“Let me guess, the whole ‘I’m a man and I
have needs’ thing.”

“No, it’s far more than that. I’m also
inhuman
and have needs. I do what I must to get through the
days and nights.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond to
that; she could never understand what drove him to behave the way
he did.

“I’m not ashamed of it, but I don’t like
that my history bothers you.”

“Pfft,” she said and waved her hand through
the air. “Your life is your own. You can bang as many women as you
want.”

She said the words, but she couldn’t shake
the strange sense of hurt she experienced as the words passed her
lips. It made absolutely no sense to her; what did she care what he
did in his spare time, or who he did it with? She had to keep her
guard up around this man. She refused to become one of the many he
would never remember. What was wrong with her that she was
attracted to such a man, and a vampire no less?

“How old are you, Paige?” Ian inquired,
looking to change the topic.

“Twenty-two, you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Is that including vamp years?” she
blurted.

The rumbling sound of his laughter caused a
smile to tug at her lips. “Born this way, remember? Every year is a
vamp year for me.”

“Oh yeah,” she mumbled, feeling more than a
little stupid for asking the question. She could blame
that
on the alcohol, she decided.

He grabbed his glass from the bar and turned
away from her. “I saw a deck of cards in the kitchen, want to play
a game?”

She would have agreed to just about anything
if it meant a distraction from her thoughts about him. “Ok,” she
said and returned to the couch.

The warmth from her buzz had returned by the
time he came back with a deck of cards, a pad of paper, and a pen.
He set them on the table and pulled the cards from the box. She
watched in amazement as his fingers shuffled through the deck with
the speed of the undead. The flashing colors and numbers made her
already fuzzy head spin so much she had to look away or risk
getting sick to her stomach.

She turned back as he dealt the cards out.
“What are we playing?” she asked.

“Five hundred rummy, and be warned, I don’t
like to lose.”

“Neither do I.” She gathered her cards and
held them before her.

A strange sense of comfort settled over her
as the heat of the fire danced across her skin, and the alcohol
seeped into her system.

Paige cracked one heavy eyelid and groaned at the
sunlight filtering around the closed curtains. Demented little
elves were inside her head, chipping away at pieces of her Scotch
soaked brain. She’d definitely lost some of her brain cells to the
alcohol last night. Actually, she would bet some of her cells were
still floating around in the liquid right now. Her stomach was most
certainly floating in it.

She pulled the pillow over her head, moaning
when the movement caused her belly to lurch. “Not going to throw
up,” she said aloud, but a good minute passed where she was
completely uncertain about that.

Had she really spent last night getting
drunk and playing cards with a
vampire
? God, she had, she
really
had, and the worst thing about it was she’d spent a
lot of time laughing with him too. What had made her think to drink
Scotch? She’d been trying to prove she didn’t do girly drinks,
which she didn’t, but it had been months since she’d sat down and
done anything more than sip at a drink or two.

Her stomach rolled, her head beat out a
tempo that would have made Korn proud as she swung her legs over
the side of the bed. The possibility of not being able to stand up
crossed her mind, but she somehow managed to push herself to her
feet. She didn’t know if it was the booze still making her sick, or
that she’d stayed up till four in the morning with Ian,
the
vampire.

She shuddered, a flush covering her from
head to toe. She yearned for a shower, and then maybe she’d crawl
back in bed and stay there until tomorrow. Opening her door, she
poked her head out to search the hall. She didn’t see Ian anywhere,
nor did she hear him moving about.

This could be it; her chance to run. It was
early enough in the day that she might be able to make it to a town
before nightfall. That’s assuming she was lucky and went in the
right direction. She’d had enough training from the hunters, not a
whole lot, hence her embarrassing blood loss and subsequent capture
by a vampire the other night, but enough so she should be able keep
herself alive. Probably not against a grizzly, but that was if
there
were
grizzlies in the area. He’d probably been lying
to her. There were most likely mountain lions though.

Paige shuddered at the thought. She’d
already looked for a weapon, but she knew she’d never be able to
take Ian down, even if she had a stake, maybe not even if she had a
bazooka, the man was
huge
. She wasn’t entirely sure she
wanted to take him down anymore anyway; she found him almost
pleasant, sometimes. Ugh, that made her feel like throwing up all
over again. The idea of even attempting to run right now was enough
to make her want to crawl into bed again.

Yeah, you’re doing a great job at
learning more about vampires and figuring out a way to escape,
she silently berated herself.

Captivity and Scotch had turned her brain to
mush, she decided as she turned the shower on. But it wasn’t only
captivity, it was everything she’d witnessed and learned since
she’d been attacked in the alleyway. Ian and his family could have
killed her. Instead he’d saved her life. She could understand him
saving her if they’d proceeded to try and get information out of
her about the hunters, but he’d only asked a few questions before
letting it go.

He hadn’t made one move to injure her, and
she didn’t feel like a prisoner in this small cabin. She still
wanted to go home, her small apartment may not be much, but it was
hers. She would most likely lose her receptionist job at the gym.
It hadn’t been the greatest job in the world, but it had paid the
bills and she’d gotten a free membership out of it.

Oh well, maybe it was time for her to move
on anyway, to find somewhere new to live, and some new people to
associate with. She wasn’t about to let go of her mission, but for
the life of her she still couldn’t remember where Nabel had gone,
or what had happened in the alley the other night. Trying to recall
it now did nothing to help with her hangover, and only turned the
evil elves in her head into dwarves with mining picks.

She believed Ian when he told her she would
be let go. Maybe she shouldn’t, everything she knew about his kind
told her she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t bring herself to see him
as the monster she knew him capable of being.

Resting her hands on the wall, she bent her
head and let the water wash over her hair. Maybe lust was clouding
her judgment. She’d loved L.J., she hadn’t been lying when she’d
said that, but their relationship had been more a friendship than
anything else. Her breakup with L.J. had been amicable, but she’d
been the one to initiate it. They still remained friendly, and when
they’d spoken last month, he’d told her he was planning to propose
to his girlfriend. The sex between them had been enjoyable, but it
had lacked fire. All she had to do was look at Ian and she could
feel heat licking through her body, her toes curled and a deep ache
spread through her.

Her libido had turned her into a dumb ass,
she decided. She should be planning her escape instead of standing,
shaking, in a shower. Her rubbery legs had nothing to do with her
massive hangover right now, and everything to do with the memory of
the firelight playing across his face last night. The flames had
caused his hair to dance with shades of red and orange. That sexy
smile of his did strange things to her insides. Butterflies didn’t
kick around in her stomach around him; no, a whole car full of
clowns kicked around in there.

Had she been wrong all this time? Was it bad
men who became bad vampires? Were there good ones out there? Maybe
she’d stumbled across some of them, but were they faking?

Her head felt way too foggy to begin to sort
through it all; the more she tried the more confused she became.
Paige turned the shower off as the water, stored on the roof and
heated by the sun, began to run cold. She stood for another minute
before stepping out of the shower and toweling off. With a sigh of
pleasure, she scrubbed her teeth, brushed her hair, and dressed in
a pair of jeans and a loose fitting sweater from the supply Emma
had given to her yesterday. She actually felt somewhat human again
when she exited the bathroom.

Making her way through the small cabin, she
peered into the living room. A crocheted blue and white blanket was
folded neatly at the end of the empty couch. She glanced into the
kitchen, but she didn’t see him there either. Frowning, she stepped
onto the porch and shaded her eyes against the sun. The glowing
ball of light was far too cheerful for her liking right now.

Scanning the tree line, she searched for
Ian, but she didn’t see him amongst the woods. She could escape;
she could walk straight across the clearing, into the forest, and
be gone.
You’re not a prisoner,
he’d told her, but he
wouldn’t let her leave here, would he?

Had he walked out of here? Had he left her
here and gone back to his life? The idea bothered her more than she
would have liked. It didn’t bother her that she was stuck out here
all alone; she’d find her way home, but if he had walked out of
here she would never see him again, and for reasons she didn’t want
to explore too deeply, that bothered her, a lot.

She hated the sick feeling twisting through
her stomach; a feeling that had nothing to do with the vast
quantity of booze she’d consumed last night. Dropping her hand
down, she tried to ignore the disappointment crashing through her
as she threw back her shoulders. She turned toward the cabin to
gather her things, before taking the long walk to wherever the
closest town was. A rustle of leaves caught her attention, freezing
her in place on the porch.

As she watched, Ian emerged from amongst the
foliage. Despite his massive size, he moved through the leaves and
branches as effortlessly as a deer. The realization he belonged
amongst the forest, wild and free, crossed her mind. A feral air
surrounded him as he moved forward with the easy grace of a
predator. And he was a predator, it was easy to forget that when
she was around him, but it was true. She reminded herself of this,
even as her heart began to race and her mouth watered.

The electric blue tank he wore made his eyes
more azure. His jeans hugged the powerful muscles of his thighs;
his firm ass looked like it had been carved from marble. Yep, being
attacked in the alley and the subsequent events, or maybe it was
the Scotch, had completely fried her brain and kicked her sex drive
into hyperactive mode.

The sunlight lit his hair, turning it
blonder. His eyes sparkled as he placed one foot on the bottom step
of the porch and rested his elbow on the railing. She couldn’t
resist the smile he gave her. “Good morning, Sunshine,” he drawled.
“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she murmured while she eyed the bags
in his hand. “Where did you go?”

The scent of something entirely delicious
made her stomach growl when he held the bags toward her. “There’s
enough food here to get you through at least a few days, but I’m
not much of a cook, and I thought you might appreciate something
warm to eat this morning.”

“I would,” she admitted. “Where did you get
it?”

“I ran into town.”

Her ears perked at his words. “Where’s
town?”

His smile widened; he dangled one of the
bags from his two fingers before her. “About forty miles east of
here.”

“Forty miles?” she squeaked. “You ran forty
miles? Did you sleep at all?”

“Like a log.”

She glanced over his tussled hair and the
sweat barely beading on his enticing flesh. “There’s no way.”

“There’s always a way. I made it to town in
five minutes flat. It was off my average time, but I blame the
tequila. Now would you like this bacon, hash browns and eggs, or
not?”

The answering rumble of her stomach caused
him to chuckle as he climbed up the rest of the steps. She was tall
for a woman, nearly five ten, but she still had to tilt her head
back to look at him as he towered over her. Her heart beat faster;
her fingers twitched as he handed the bag out to her.

“My roommates tell me greasy food is best
for a hangover,” he said.

“Your roommates are geniuses,” she replied
as she took the plastic bag from him.

Ian couldn’t help but admire the sway of her
hips as he followed her into the kitchen. Her lithe body had
haunted more than a few of his dreams last night, and left him with
a severe case of morning wood upon waking. The run into town had
been a good way to burn off some of his remaining lust and the
booze still in his system. The booze may be gone, but looking at
her made the blood rush back into his dick again.

He placed the other bag on the counter as
she settled in at the small table in the kitchen. The damp tendrils
of her hair spiraled over her shoulders and dampened the black
sweater she wore. The scent of apples drifted from her, pricking
his hunger and making his fangs tingle. What he wouldn’t give to
run his tongue over her flesh and sink his fangs into her creamy
throat. Ambrosia, that’s what her blood would be, he was certain of
it.