Nightwind (6 page)

“I’ve put up with your insubordination longer than anyone could be expected to. Leave this shop this

very moment or I shall be forced to call the authorities and have you removed!” Louvenia pointed a bony

finger at her. “I will charge you with trespassing!”

Lauren looked at the older woman’s livid face, turned her gaze to Beth’s smug, self-satisfied smirk, and

then spun around, running for the break room and her purse.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” said Beth, laughing.

“I will mail you your last check!” Louvenia called out as Lauren ran through the bookstore and yanked

open the door.

He watched her running down the street, no one even taking the time to stop and stare after her.

It was as though she did not exist for the people of this wretched town and his fury grew in leaps

and bounds beyond even the rigid self-imposed limit he had placed on it with centuries of practice.

A writhing serpent of vengeance slithered in his gut and his hot glare slowly left the running

woman to go once more to the bookshop. The dark ember of his gaze grew red-hot, the pupils of

his eyes elongating until they more closely resembled the slit pupils of a viper than a human being.

His lips pulled back over his teeth and he hissed.

Night would not come fast enough for Syntian Cree.

He stood inthe shadows, hidden from her view. He had watched her bathe, soaping her body with

hands that lingered on her breasts and between her legs. He had watched her bring herself to a

shuddering climax, all the while with a gaze so hot it would have burned her flesh had she been aware of

it.

She had climbed out of the tub, toweling her lithe frame, powdering it, perfuming the creases behind her

knees, under her breasts, the flesh at her wrists. It had not taken her long to dry her hair, to brush it to a

glossy sheen. It had taken her longer to arrange it on top of her head in artful curls meant to cascade

down around her shoulders with the release of a few strategic hairpins.

As she sat down at her vanity to apply her makeup, he had stepped from the shadows, moving into her

line of vision in the mirror. He had watched her eyes widen, first in surprise then narrow with speculation.

She didn’t turn as he walked to her and placed his powerful hands on her shoulders, caressing the

smooth flesh as he found her eyes in the mirror.

“I was wondering when you’d come,” she said, smiling at him in the mirror. She reached up to put a

hand over his. “How long can you stay?”

He did not answer her smile. “As long as it takes to pleasure you, my lady.”

Her fingers caressed the back of his hand. “And in return for such an offer, Syntian?”

“I need your help,” he answered. He ran his hands over her shoulders, over her chest, and his strong

fingers slid beneath the silk of her chemise and molded to the creamy perfection of her breasts.

She leaned her head against his belly. “You want to break your vow.”

“Aye.” His thumbs stroked the tips of her breasts until the nipples were hard little nubs against the pad of

his thumb.

She held his gaze in the mirror for a long time, watching him, probing his emotions, thrilling to the touch

of the one male in the universe who could ignite such passion within her. At last she sighed. “There will be

an exacting price to pay for such evil as you intend, Syn.”

His lids flickered, but he held her look. “I know, my lady,” he said softly. He slid his hands down until

her breasts were cradled in each of his palms. He squeezed her gently.

“And you are willing to pay that price?”

He hesitated, calculating, trying to hide his deepest feelings from her. She was watching him closely and

he knew she read his mind as easily as he read the mind of a mortal female. His hands slid from her flesh

and returned to the softness of her white shoulders.

“Syntian?” she asked. “Are you willing to pay the price?”

His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Aye.”

Her smile was lazy and slow as she stood up and faced him. She loved the way he was looking at her:

half-afraid she would deny him; half-afraid she would agree. She enjoyed what little bit of power she had

over him for no other being had such control over Syntian Cree.

“I will not allow you to repay me in any other way, Syntian,” she warned. “If you feel you must do this,

then I will be paid as befits the bargain. You do understand that, do you not?”

She watched his sensual lips part as he drew in a long breath then close softly as he exhaled. “I

understand what will be expected of me, my lady.”

Her hands went to the straps of her chemise as she pushed the silky garment from her shoulders. Her

breasts gleamed in the candlelight as the chemise slid down her curving hips to lay forgotten on the floor.

“Then pleasure me, my sweet demon,” she whispered, “and I will allow you to break your vow just this

once.”

He stood still, taking her into his arms, feeling the glory of her nude body against his own. He swept her

up, cradling her against his chest.

“Do not disappoint me, Syntian.”

“No, my lady,” he answered, crossing to the bed. “I will not.”

Beth Janaceklooked up from her glass of champagne and smiled. “Where is your date, Mr. Cree?” she

asked, sweetly, licking her lips as she looked him over.

He put his hand on her upper arm and squeezed. “I’m looking at her,” he answered. His thumb rubbed a

tight little circle on her flesh.

A fine blond brow eased upward. “Really? And what happened to the lady you had intended to bring?”

He shrugged. “She had a prior commitment, I’m afraid.” His hand slid up and down her arm in a light

caress. “Are you disappointed?”

The heart inside her chest thumped hard against Beth’s ribcage as she stared up in his smoldering gaze.

It was hypnotic, captivating, and seemed to strip the clothes from her body. Heat infused her lower belly

and she had to take a sip of the sparkling champagne to hide the urge to put her hands on him, to reach

out and grab that part of him she longed to possess her.

“Are you?” she asked. “Disappointed, I mean?”

His smile was slow and heartbreakingly sensual. “Not at all.” He held out his arm. “May I escort you

into the party, Miss Janacek?”

“Beth.”

“Beth.” Her name on his lips was like an intimate touch on the most private parts of her anatomy. She

took his arm, feeling the hard, steel-like muscles of his forearm under his silk shirt. When he covered her

hand with his own, she felt her knees go weak with surrender.

“Oh, there you are, Mr. Cree!” Allen Turnbridge called out as he led his wife over to the couple. “We

were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it, after all. Have you met my wife, Olivia?”

Syntian inclined his dark head toward the short, dumpy woman at Turnbridge’s side. “The pleasure is

mine, Mrs. Turnbridge.”

“Olivia,” the sixty-year old woman breathed, looking into his face as though she were drowning. “My

name is Olivia.”

As Beth took another sip of her wine, her look filled with a mocking light. As her escort repeated the old

crone’s name, she thought Olivia Turnbridge would wet her pants. The heavily made-up face of the hag

split into a girlish grin.

“We are so pleased you could come,” said Olivia.

“I am most pleased you invited me.”

“Syn, I’m famished,” Beth put in, pulling on his arm. “Allen and Olivia always use the best caterers. I’m

dying to try out their buffet. I intend to stuff my mouth!”

Olivia saw a spark of pure fury flit through the hot brown eyes of her guest, but the man smiled, although

the smile did not reach those devastatingly direct eyes. She noticed that he seemed to tense at Beth

Janacek’s touch, almost as though he were repelled by it, but his manners were impeccable as he

apologized to her and Allen and led the brazen little Janacek girl to the dining table.

“He doesn’t like her, Al,” Olivia remarked, watching the way Syntian Cree moved away from Beth at

the table.

“He’s a little on the odd side,” Allen acknowledged. “I think he was going to bring someone else.”

Olivia looked at her husband. “Who?” When Allen only shrugged, she returned her gaze to her guest.

“Maybe that’s why he seems put up with Beth. She wasn’t his first choice.”

“Whoever gets him,” she heard Louvenia Yelverton remark as she joined them, “will be getting her

heart’s desire!”

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Beth asked as she placed an hors d’oeuvre on the plate her escort

was holding for her.

“I’m not hungry,” he answered, looking out over the crowd of people assembled in Allen Turnbridge’s

home.

“I am!” Beth piled several more canapés on the plate then touched his arm to gain his attention for he

was staring across the room at a rather good-looking brunette. When his attention swung back to her,

she thought she saw a flash of irritation. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. What could possibly be wrong?”

“You were looking at Angeline Hellstrom as though you could gobble her up where she stands.” A huffy

tone entered Beth’s voice for he looked back across the room. “Have you met her?”

“Who?” he asked, still looking at the striking woman.

“Angeline Hellstrom!”

“No, I’ve never met her,” he said. “Who is she?”

Beth had wanted to make an indelible impression on the town’s newest, richest inhabitant, but she was

beginning to think that all the time she had wasted at her toilet had been for nothing. He had yet to

compliment her on her dress or looks and he seemed to be fascinated with the town’s most sought-after

society matron.

“She just owns half of this state, that’s who she is,” Beth groused. “She’s had more husbands than

Elizabeth Taylor and Zsa Zsa Gabor rolled into one.” She swung her narrowed gaze to the woman.

“Unless you’re a multi-millionaire, she won’t have anything to do with you.” She turned pale as Angeline

Hellstrom looked their way almost as though she had heard herself being discussed. Her nails dug into

her palms as the woman excused herself from the group of men around her and headed their way.

“Oh, shit! She noticed you.”

He watched her walking toward him, her lips parted in a mocking smile. Her hips were swaying

seductively beneath the green silk of her sheath. As she reached them, she held out one slim hand toward

him.

“Mr. Cree, isn’t it?” she asked in a breathless, smoky voice.

He took her hand in his and brought the slim white fingers to his lips. “You have me at a disadvantage,

my lady,” he answered smoothly, his eyes boring into hers.

“Introduce us,” Angeline demanded of Beth, not even bothering to look at the girl.

“Angeline Hellstrom, Syntian Cree,” Beth mumbled, shifting from one foot to another.

“Syntian,” she sighed his name. “May I call you, Syn?”

“Call me whatever you wish to call me, my lady. I might come and I might not,” was his throaty reply. At

her light giggle, his left brow crooked.

“What if I were to call you my sweet demon?” she taunted. “My incubus come to brighten up an

otherwise dreary existence?”

He released her hand and snorted with grim humor. He shook his head. “You are wicked.”

“And are you as wicked as your name implies?” she asked, glancing at Beth.

“When the occasion warrants.”

Beth looked from one to the other as they spoke and had the uncanny feeling that they not only knew

one another but knew one another more intimately than anyone else ever would. The heated look that

passed between them was almost vulgar in its intensity. She was about to turn away, when her escort

reached down and threaded his strong fingers through hers, tapping her hand suggestively against his

steel-like thigh.

“It was a pleasure, my lady,” he said to Angeline. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

“Count on it,” Angeline assured him. She reached out a delicate hand and touched his cheek. “My

demon.” Her scrutiny slid insultingly to Beth. “I’d be careful of him, my dear. He’s more dangerous than

you know.” She smiled nastily and excused herself.

Beth’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say to the sultry bitch. The gentle tugging on her

hand as her escort’s fingers tightened, made her look up at him with pique.

“What the hell was all that about?” she demanded.

Syntian laughed, his appraisal on Angeline’s swaying hips. “I think the lady likes to play games.” He

brought Beth’s hand to his lips and touched her knuckles with his tongue, gazing at her from beneath his

thick dark lashes. “Don’t you?” he whispered.

Beth felt a tingle of pure sexual lust drive straight through her belly. His touch was like nothing she had

ever experienced before and she wanted him, wanted him so badly she would have torn his clothes from

him there on the dining room floor and devoured him had they been alone. She could show him what

wickedness really meant.

“Promises, promises.” He chuckled, eyeing her with interest.

Beth jumped. Had he read her mind? From the hot look he was giving her, he must have guessed where

her thoughts had skipped. She leaned against his taut body and felt the warmth of passion flood through

her.

“Would you like to come back to my apartment?” she asked, her mouth watering as she looked up into

the dark planes of his incredibly handsome face.

“Now?” he asked. He looked about him. “The party has just started.”