No Rest for the Wicked (26 page)

yanked off his boots and pulled his shirt over his head, then reached up and closed all of

the curtains.

He knew she would set out as soon as they landed—but for now, he planned to enjoy

every aspect of being with his woman, including undressing her for bed.

He tugged the underwear free, removed her shoes, then unzipped and removed her skirt.

When he lay behind her, pulling the blanket over them, he could have sworn she mumbled

something about a cake.

After drawing her into his arms, he buried his face in her hair and squeezed her. He’d gone

from famine to feast—no middle ground. He’d gone from having no one to call his own to

having a fantasy here in his arms.

He could win her. He would win her after tonight. He’d known he would be a good

husband, a good father, but he’d wondered if he could satisfy her in bed. Now he felt

confident he could, since she wasn’t shy about what pleased her. God, how she lets me

know. He grinned against her, well aware that they slept on shredded sheets.

She sighed, flexing against him. Then as if she caught herself doing something she

oughtn’t, she tensed. “Tonight changes nothing, vampire.”

“Tell yourself that, Valkyrie”—he brushed her hair aside, kissing her neck and making her

shiver—“as much as you like.”

26

G ood morning, Katja.”

She mumbled something in answer. When he’d woken, she was draped over his chest, half

on him, panting with sleep. He grinned, savoring the feeling. She would deny it, but his

Bride liked sleeping with him. He could get used to this ultimate luxury—blond curls

spilling over his chest and warm woman in his arms, his for the taking. Was she, after last

night?

She’d given him the most pleasure he’d ever experienced, and she’d also given him a

teasing hint of what more he could find with her. He squeezed her even closer. When she

said something he didn’t catch, he let up. “Sorry.”

She sounded half-asleep when she asked, “Why’re you always worried ’bout crushing

me?”

He stared at the ceiling. “My size has not put me in good stead with women.” What a vast

understatement.

“Did last night,” she murmured, with a yawn against him. “Your size was a panty

remover.”

Panty remover? He drew her up by the shoulders, and she blinked at him sleepily like a

kitten peeled off a couch.

“Whaa?” she muttered. “That in good enough stead?”

He chuckled, settling her back, using his whole hand to cup her face against him. How

could a few well-placed words begin undoing centuries of doubt—?

She shot up in bed, eyes wide. “We’ve landed?”

“About an hour ago. I turned the Do Not Disturb key, and the pilots left.”

“What time is it?” She sprang from the bed. Naked. She dashed to the bathroom, started

the shower, then flashed by on her way to the closet for clothes. So very naked.

He glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s six-forty here.” Where exactly was here? All he

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
) knew was that the pinpricks of sun coming through the shades were bright.

“I’ve got a car coming at seven!”

He sat back with his arms behind his head and knew his grin was one of pure masculine

satisfaction. He’d never seen a woman get dressed before. He never wanted to miss it

again.

This was what he’d imagined having a wife would be like. Seeing her dressing, enjoying

tantalizing views of her beautiful body. But with her, the reality was so much better.

He hadn’t, for instance, envisioned his wife’s complete lack of modesty or wicked bed

play. He hadn’t imagined that her stunning eyes could burn with such absolute purpose

and drive—or go silvery with desire.

She caught her ankle in the strap of her bag and stumbled forward, righting herself with a

kind of preternatural grace. When she bit out a curse, he chuckled again.

She peered around the bathroom door and quirked an eyebrow until he raised his hands in

surrender.

Soon he was treated to the light scents of her shampoo and soap that would be mixed with

her own luscious scent. When he imagined her working soap over her sleek body, he shot

to his feet. Not wasting a second, he stripped off his jeans and traced into the shower.

She cried out with a start, glanced down at his erection, then back up with her face

flushed. Regrettably, she was already rinsed clean, and before he could touch her, she

hopped out. She secured a towel around her torso and twisted one up around her hair,

then dashed from the steamy room. He heard cabinets slamming in the bedroom as she

hurried.

He didn’t understand this obsessive need of hers to win. “Why are you so rabid about this

prize?” he called out from under the water. “I’ve told you a hundred times before, the key

will not work.” He found an unopened bar of soap that didn’t smell feminine and tore

open the monogrammed seal.

She entered again, still in her towel, and squeezed toothpaste onto her pink toothbrush.

She answered while brushing. “Ill ew.” Will to.

Just as she finished brushing and exited, he finished showering, then grabbed the last

towel.

On her way past the bathroom door once more, she tossed his jeans at him. He dried off,

stabbed his legs in, and entered the hall—plowing right into her.

He should have known, in such a small area. Careless...

His hand shot out to catch her, but she easily checked her fall with one light step back.

Her hands flew to his chest, then relaxed to rest there, rubbing a few remaining drops of

water. She didn’t give him that hurt look. No, she tilted her head and studied his chest, her

tiny fang pressing against her bottom lip, her eyes growing silver.

Just as he was about to pick her up on the way back to the bed, she shimmied by, then

hastened down the hall, hips gently swaying under her towel. Perfect for me. Suddenly, he

was completely respectful of fate, since it had had blooded him with exactly the right

female.

When she was out of his sight, the silky underthings in her opened clothes bag caught his

attention. Kneeling down to root through them, he picked out a scant black bra and

matching panties that resembled no more than artfully arranged strings. He stood and

clenched them in his fists, groaning to recall tugging her silk panties aside the night before.

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
) He’d shuddered to find them so very wet...

She appeared, one hand on her hip, the other raised for her underwear. He reluctantly

handed it over. When she turned and began dressing under the towel, he said, “I know a

bit about the subject of time travel. And I know this key can’t work. Have you ever

studied the laws of general relativity?” he asked slowly, not imagining why she would

have. His head tilted with each word, gaze locked on the edge of the fluttering towel. He

needn’t have bothered angling for a peek. She dropped the towel as soon as her

underwear was on—in other words, when the string was in place.

He hissed in a breath. Again, his feet shuffled to keep himself from falling over. That ass is

going to be the death of me.

“I know a bit about the subject myself,” she said over her shoulder as she donned her bra.

“And since the mid-twentieth century, it’s been widely accepted among physicists that the

possibility of time travel can be reconciled within the laws of general relativity.”

His brows drew together. Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken to her so slowly. But then her

words sank in. General relativity was only one argument against time travel. “Even if that

were so, time travel is not compatible with the law of conservation of energy. You cannot

remove matter and energy from one sphere without creating a vacuum. Nor can you take

it and force it into another sphere.”

Mercifully, she shimmied into her low-slung pants, though she had to bend over briefly,

with her breasts threatening to spill out. Half dressed, she began combing out her long,

wet hair. He sat back against the headboard once more and savored every sight.

“True. But only if you believe that all matter and energy are interconnected on a global

scale,” she said.

Could she be any sexier than at this moment, brushing her hair, discussing one of his

favorite subjects? Somehow he managed to speak. “It must be. In a closed system, all is

integrated.”

Twisting the mass of curls into a knot on her head, she bared that graceful neck he

couldn’t seem to keep his lips from. “The earth isn’t a closed system,” she said with

absolute authority. “There are bridges to other dimensions, even other populations like the

Lore. I’ve been to some.”

What? he thought dumbly. Christ, he believed her about this. Though it went against

everything he’d learned.

And just like that, one of the foundational beliefs of his life collapsed while a slip of a

female traipsed by in a silken black bra.

Shaken, he redoubled his efforts to concentrate. He wanted to convince her of this. And to

be honest, he wanted to impress her. “And what about the Grandfather Paradox? What

happens when a time traveler has a quantum-mechanical intrusion with his past self or his

ancestors?”

“What if he kills his own grandfather? Well, if one believes tachyons—”

“You know what a tachyon is?” he nearly shouted.

She hooked her shirt at her thumbs, readying it to pull on. While she was under the tight

fabric, he heard her say, “Subatomic particle. Travels faster than the speed of light.” He

had closed his jaw by the time she’d drawn it on all the way.

“How do you understand these things?” And how could this blooding be so precise?

“My dad was a god, and they tend to be quick like that. I inherited.”

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)

“Of course.” He didn’t like to be reminded of this. Riora had asked him, “Do you have any

idea how high you reach for one such as her?” Yes, Riora. Yes, I do. Every day, he had a

better idea, and it was killing him. He shook himself. “Tachyons are hypothetical. Their

existence would threaten laws of science—”

“Like radioactivity did?” she asked in a mild tone, glancing up from lacing her boots to

cast him a too-pleasant smile.

He exhaled a long breath. She was referring to a time in the early nineteen hundreds when

physicists couldn’t account for the phenomenon of radioactivity. They had to remain

confused, embattled, until the theory of quantum mechanics was proposed.

“Clever analogy,” he said, beyond impressed. Had she convinced him? No, there were

dozens of other arguments to prove one couldn’t go back into the past to change the

future. But never had he been so glad to agree to disagree; he’d die if he didn’t kiss her.

27

S ebastian lunged for her, grabbing her upper arms and tumbling with her back onto the

bed.

“What are you doing?” Kaderin demanded, but couldn’t manage to sound angry enough—

not when she’d been willing him to do this ever since she’d touched his gorgeous, still

dampened chest.

After last night, she knew all of him was gorgeous.

She hadn’t missed his heated looks while she dressed, but apparently talk about science

had pushed him to the boiling point—she could feel his thick erection pressing into her.

Science. She should have suspected—she’d seen all those texts in his castle, and they

weren’t exactly beach reads.

He sat up over her, pinning her arms above her head. In the cave, and even last night, he’d

demonstrated his strength. Now, with her arms pinned, she again imagined him taking

her—hard, with that rugged, flexing body...

She frowned. This morning, he’d told her, “My size has not put me in good stead with

women.” She believed this was one of his understatements, and suspected a woman—or

women—had hurt him. So why did she now feel an overwhelming urge to claw the silly

bitch’s eyes out?

“Kiss me, Katja.” His face was so handsome, rested. He seemed on the verge of grinning.

Irresistible.

“Why would I want to do that?” she asked in a breathy voice.

“You like kissing me, Valkyrie.” He sounded proud.

Oh, Freya, she did.

And then he did grin. “Christ, I enjoy being with you.” A heart-stopping curving of his

lips, showing his even white teeth and scarcely visible fangs against his forever tanned

skin. Don’t look at him. She was being charmed, warming so much to him, and she cast

about for things to hate. He drinks blood. He drinks blood. He bites!

“You have to like being with me,” she reminded him. “I’m your Bride.”

He released her wrists and sat up. “Of course, it’s mystical compulsion that’s making me

so attracted to you. Not the fact that you just gave me a good look at how your mind

works and I admired what I saw. And it couldn’t be because last night you gave me the

most sexual pleasure I’ve ever had.”

She studied his earnest expression. “Was it really?”

Create PDF
files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (
http://www.novapdf.com
)

“Before last night and that first morning with you? By miles,” he admitted quietly. She

believed him, though she couldn’t understand it. They hadn’t even had sex. Surely he’d