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Authors: Alexandra Ivy

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BOOK: Some Like It Wicked (Hellion's Den)
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“One minute she was standing next to me complaining about the dust, and the next—” She waved a hand.
“Poof,” Levet finished.
“Exactly.”
Without warning the gargoyle was stomping away, his tail twitching and his tiny hands waving in the air as he muttered to himself.
“Aggravating, unpredictable, impossible female.”
“I feel his pain,” Roke drawled.
She turned back to stab him with a glare. “Not yet, but keep it up and you will.”
The silver eyes shimmered. “Release me.”
Sally wrapped her arms around her waist. She could feel his anger through their bond, but more than that she could feel a seething frustration that was echoed deep inside her.
That scared her more than his irritation.
“Why should I?” she bluffed. Yeah, look at her. All badass just so long as Roke remained trapped in her spell. “You’re trespassing on my property.”
He glanced toward the cottage. “Yours?”
She shrugged. “It was my mother’s, and since I’m her only heir, I assume her various houses are now mine.”
“She had more than one?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing the past three weeks?”
The silver gaze returned to sear over her pale face. “Running.”
She sniffed, refusing to admit that running had been a large part of what she’d been doing.
There had been a little method to her madness.
“I’ve been searching through my mother’s belongings,” she said. “I hoped that she would have left some clue to my—” She bit off the word father. Did a donation of sperm actually earn the title of father? “To who impregnated her.”
He frowned. “I thought you said that witches had a spell so their private papers were destroyed when she died?”
It was true that many witches had binding spells attached to their most sensitive possessions. It gave a whole new meaning to taking “secrets to the grave.” And her mother had been more secretive than most.
Still, she had to cling to some small fragment of hope. Dammit.
“They do,” she grudgingly admitted. “But she wouldn’t have destroyed everything. There has to be a clue somewhere.”
“Release me and I’ll help you search.” He studied her stubborn expression, silently compelling her to obey. “Sally.”
“Don’t growl at me. You locked me in a cell—”
“And I let you out.”
“Only because I forced you to.”
A dangerous chill blasted through the air at her foolish reminder that he’d briefly been under her complete control.
“Sally, like it or not we’re stuck together,” he rasped between clenched teeth.
“I don’t like it.”
The silver eyes narrowed. “If that were true then you would be eager for my help.”
She snorted. “Nice try.”
“You know that vampires are the finest hunters in the world,” he continued, ignoring her interruption. “And I’m one of the best.”
“And so modest.”
“If you were as anxious as you claim to end our mating, you would be begging for my . . . services.”
His gaze deliberately lowered to take in her slender body making Sally tremble in reaction. Blessed goddess. The blast of sexual arousal that jolted through her made her feel like she’d been struck by lightning.
And the worst part was, she couldn’t blame the intense reaction on the faux mating.
She’d been aching for Roke from the moment she’d caught sight of those dark, male features and the astonishing silver eyes. Not to mention the tight ass that filled out a pair of jeans with oh-my-god perfection.
“Jeez, could you be any more annoying?” she muttered, reluctantly releasing the spell that bound him. The spell was draining her at a rapid rate, and the last thing she wanted was to collapse in front of this man. Better that she pretended to be bored with the game. “You’re free. Now go away.”
The words had barely left her lips when Roke was flowing forward at a blinding speed.
“Gotcha.”
“Roke.” His name was a muffled protest against his chest as he lashed his arms around her and flattened her against his body.
“Don’t move,” he growled, pressing his face into the curve of her neck, his fangs lightly scraping her skin.
“What are you doing?”
He shuddered, his hands running a compulsive path down her back to cup her hips.
“You feel it,” he whispered against her neck.
And she did.
Not just the tidal-wave of sensual pleasure at being in his arms, but the strange sensation of something settling deep inside her.
An easing of the nagging sense of “wrongness” that had plagued her since leaving Chicago.
His lips moved to press against the thundering pulse at the base of her throat.
“Do you have any idea what you did to me when you disappeared?”
Her lashes slid downward as she absorbed the stunning pleasure of his touch.
“I thought you would be happy to be rid of me,” she whispered, breathing in the scent of leather, male, and raw power.
His fingers gave her hips a small squeeze. “You wouldn’t have snuck away if you believed that.”
The fact he was right only pissed her off.
“Just because I didn’t ask for your permission doesn’t mean I snuck away.”
“Sally, whether this mating is some demon magic or not, it feels real to me,” he rasped. “To have you disappear . . .” He shuddered, revealing the genuine pain he’d been forced to endure. “Christ.”
Sally grimaced, her anger abruptly being replaced by overwhelming regret.
The mating truly had been an accident.
At the time she’d been scared and desperate or she would never have released her inner demon.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew that messing with magic she didn’t understand was dangerous. And until she had discovered the truth of her ancestry, she’d usually stuck to the human spells she’d learned from her witch mother.
But accident or not, she’d physically, perhaps even spiritually, bound this proud loner to her.
It was a sin she could never erase.
“I’m sorry,” she husked.
His tongue traced the line of her jaw. “Are you?”
“I know this mess is partially my fault.”
He jerked his head back in disbelief. “Partially?”
She was instantly on the defensive. “If your precious Anasso hadn’t thrown me in the dungeons I wouldn’t have needed to use my powers to escape.”
He muttered a curse, returning to nuzzle a searing path of kisses down the side of her neck.
“Let’s go back to your apology,” he commanded.
Somehow her hands were on his shoulders, her fingers tangled in his silken hair.
“Fine. I regret any discomfort I’ve caused you,” she managed to say, excitement jolting through her as he allowed her to feel the tips of his fangs.
God. What was wrong with her? She’d never been one of those freaks who wanted to be dinner for a vampire.
Even if their bite was orgasmic.
Now she was shaking with the need to feel those fangs sliding through her tender flesh.
“And you promise not to disappear again?” he demanded, his hands slipping beneath her sweatshirt.
She shuddered, struggling to think through the haze of lust clouding her mind.
“Not unless I think it’s absolutely necessary.”
He made a sound of resignation. “Have you always been so stubborn?”
“Have you always been so arrogant?”
He pressed a hard, hungry kiss to her lips. “Yes.”
eKENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
 
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
 
Copyright © 2005 by Debbie Raleigh
 
Previously published under the name Deborah Raleigh.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
 
eKensington Books and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
 
First Zebra Books Mass-Market Paperback Printing: September 2005
First eKensington Books Electronic Edition: March 2014
ISBN: 978-1-6018-3234-4
 
Published in the United States of America
BOOK: Some Like It Wicked (Hellion's Den)
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