Read Tempted by Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (1001 Dark Nights) Online

Authors: Lara Adrian

Tags: #Lara Adrian, #Eroctic romance, #1001 Dark Nights, #Vampires, #paranormal

Tempted by Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (6 page)

BOOK: Tempted by Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
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“All around,” he answered cryptically. “But it’s Morocco you hear in my voice. My father’s homeland.”

That explained it. He had the kind of voice that made her imagine moonlit desert plains and the spicy fragrance of incense and woodsmoke. “Your mother wasn’t Moroccan, though?”

“Born and raised in Paris,” he confirmed, his sensual mouth curving at the corners. “She and my father met in France. After they were mated, he brought her back with him to our tribe’s Darkhaven in his country.”

“Your tribe?”

Jehan’s dark brows quirked. “A relic of a term.” He shrugged it off, but something mysterious flickered in his mesmerizing gaze. “My father’s Breed line is very old. Its roots go deep into Moroccan soil. Burrowed in almost as stubbornly as the old man’s heels.”

“What about you?” Melena asked, genuinely curious.

Jehan inclined his head, almost courtly in its tilt. “To my father’s eternal regret, his eldest son’s feet refused to stay put. Despite the shackle of obligation he’s tried to affix to them.”

As they spoke, the door opened again and the blond warrior came in. He grinned, his hazel eyes bouncing off Jehan for a second before fixing on Melena. “I see Prince Jehan is already trying to dazzle you with his long, boring pedigree.”

Melena swung a questioning look on the enigmatic warrior. “Prince?”

Jehan grunted under his breath, but didn’t deny it. “What are you doing here, Sav? You know damned well Lazaro’s orders were that no one enter this room or speak to Melena without his permission.”

Melena wanted to be offended by the news of that domineering command, but her two visitors were a welcome distraction from everything else going on. Not the least of which being Lazaro Archer’s stinging rejection of her in the cave. A sting that hurt all the worse for his tenderness when he touched her...kissed her.

“We weren’t properly introduced,” Sav said. “Ettore Roberto Selvaggio.”

His dimples deepened along with his heart-stopping smile. His Italian accent seemed to deepen as well, the kind of accent that probably ensured he never wanted for female company.

“Melena Walsh,” she replied. “I thought I heard Lazaro call you Savage.”

“Lazaro?” he echoed.

She felt color rise to her cheeks. “Your commander. Mr. Archer. Whatever I should call him,” she muttered. The man who saved her life, awoke an irresistible desire in her, but made her feel as if he might have rather left her behind in Anzio a few hours ago. “I think he despises me.”

The two Breed males now exchanged a look. Jehan was the first to talk. “Don’t let him scare you. It’s just his way.”

“Come on, man,” his comrade said. “It goes a bit deeper than that.”

Melena glanced at them both. “What do you mean?”

“The way I heard it, Archer’s never been the same since he lost his family back in Boston twenty years ago,” Sav said. “He blames himself, I imagine.”

“Why would he do that?” She couldn’t begin to guess how Lazaro could hold himself even the least responsible for what happened to his kin. “The Darkhaven was attacked while he wasn’t home. It was razed to the ground.”

“Yes,” Jehan agreed soberly. “And now imagine you have the incredible gift of walking into even the most extreme temperature and emerging wholly unscathed. But you’re not there when the attack on your own loved ones takes place.”

“You have the ability to save some of them—maybe all of them,” Sav added. “Instead, you lose them all in one fell swoop.”

Melena couldn’t speak. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing as the weight of what she’d just heard settled on her.

She hadn’t known about Lazaro’s Breed gift. Now it made sense, of course. His ability to search for her for so long in the frozen pond all those years ago. The fact that he’d swum across nearly half of the Tyrrhenian Sea to save her tonight, impervious to the cold, unlike her.

He’d saved her twice, but had been unable to save the ones he loved. Including his blood-bonded Breedmate.

“He will not be pleased if he knew we told you,” Jehan warned grimly.

Sav gave a nod. “Probably want to stake both of us out in the sun. Or worse.” He glanced at Melena. “So, not a word, yeah?”

“Okay,” she murmured woodenly. But oh, God, her heart ached for Lazaro now.

“Enough about him,” Sav said, grinning as if he wanted to lighten the grave mood. “You asked about me, if I recall. So, to answer your question, yes. Most people who know me call me Savage.”

She took his bait, needing to put her sympathy for Lazaro on a higher shelf. He wouldn’t want it anyway. “Why do they call you that? You seem nice enough to me. Are you usually mean or something?”

“Or something,” he said, the glint in his eye and the playful, seductive hue of his aura providing all the correction she needed.

Jehan snorted. “He’s a legend in his own mind. Pay no attention to him.”

Sav barked a laugh. “Envy isn’t a good look for you, Highness.”

“And you may kiss my royal ass, peasant.”

Melena found herself smiling with them. She took in their banter and warm, welcoming faces, not realizing until then how much she needed to feel she was among friends.

She needed her family, which was now reduced to just one other person. Her Breed brother, Derek, had been living in Paris for the past year, bouncing between England and France on one business venture or another.

Melena hadn’t seen him since he left, hadn’t even spoken to him for several long weeks. She couldn’t imagine the anguish it would cause him to learn their father had been killed. Before he heard it anywhere else, she wanted to be the one to break the news to him. She wanted to spare him the unnecessary grief of thinking she had died along with everyone else tonight.

“Do you think it would be possible for me to try to reach my brother somehow?” she asked the two warriors. “He’s traveling and I need to let him know—”

“Is there a reason half my team is not where I expect them to be?” Lazaro’s deep, furious growl interrupted the conversation without warning. He stood in the open doorway, looking every bit as ferocious as a Gen One Breed male could. His sapphire eyes were thunderously dark, except for the flashes of amber outrage sparking in their depths. “Out. Both of you. Now.”

Sav and Jehan departed on command.

Leaving Melena to face Lazaro’s rage by herself.

She waited for him to lay into her too, but he didn’t. He merely stared at her, a tendon ticking hard in his jaw. His aura was as stormy as his glower, back to the gunmetal haze that she found so difficult to read.

His animosity seemed clear enough. He didn’t want her in his command center any more than he’d wanted her in his presence on the yacht or at the cave.

And she wanted to be somewhere safe now, even if that meant returning to her father’s empty Darkhaven in the States. “I don’t want to be here,” she murmured. “I need to get in touch with my brother Derek, and I need to go home.”

“Out of the question.” His answer was firm, flat. Unyielding. “I’ve spoken to Lucan Thorne. Before you go anywhere else, he wants me to bring you to the Order’s headquarters in Washington, D.C. He’ll talk with you there, debrief you.”

“I already told you everything I know. What more can I tell him?”

Lazaro didn’t answer. “We leave tomorrow evening, Melena.” He started to go, then pivoted back to her. “In the meantime, I won’t have my team distracted by the fact we have a Breedmate underfoot. I’ll make a place for you in the villa. You’ll stay there until we depart for D.C.”

 

CHAPTER 6

Melena had been moved out of the command center’s infirmary to the living quarters of the mansion hours ago. Lazaro’s team had gone back to their business as instructed. The morning passed with discussions of Order objectives and priorities. Chief among those priorities being to ensure that reports of the tragic, “accidental” explosion on board Paolo Turati’s yacht didn’t brush up against the truth that it was, in fact, a stealth missile attack.

And while no one yet had stepped forward to publicly claim responsibility, there wasn’t a shred of doubt among the Order’s entire organization that the killings were surely instigated by Opus Nostrum.

Halfway through the afternoon in Rome, the warriors were now dispersed to prepare for their patrols that coming evening, everyone focused on task and ready to carry out their missions.

And yet the female under their roof remained a distraction.

For Lazaro, that is.

He made his way through the corridors in a foul mood. He didn’t want to think about her. He didn’t want to think about his irritation over finding Sav and Jehan chatting her up earlier, making her smile in spite of everything she’d been through. He didn’t want to think about the anger that had shot through him in that moment—the blast of pure male possessiveness that he had no right to feel.

And he sure as hell did not want to give another moment’s thought to the kiss he stole from Melena back in the Anzio cave. He’d had no right to take that liberty either. But was the kiss truly stolen if she didn’t seem to mind that he did it?

She’d told him she enjoyed it, for fuck’s sake.

His blood rushed a bit faster, disturbingly hotter, at just the thought. And a lot of that blood was making a swift run south. It pounded through his veins like liquid fire, settling in his groin when he recalled how soft and inviting her mouth had been under his.

Melena had more than liked his kiss. She’d welcomed it. Wanted more.

Wanted him.

Christ, he couldn’t get away from her fast enough after that kiss. He still couldn’t put enough distance between them for his peace of mind. How he was going to manage the long hours between now and their departure for D.C. tomorrow evening, he had no damned idea.

More than likely, he’d be spending that stretch of time with a constant hard-on and a fevered hunger that bordered on madness. He needed to exorcise that hunger, and soon. He was on his way to the weapons room to sweat out some of his aggression with his blades and pistols when one of his men met him in the corridor.

Trygg had been the only one of the unit with sense enough to avoid their pretty, uninvited guest. The bald, menacing looking Breed male carried a long, cream-colored box in his arms. “Package you ordered this morning just arrived.”

Lazaro grunted as he took the box from the most intimidating member of his team.

“You want me to deliver it to her?” Trygg suggested.

“No.” The reply came out too quickly, too forcefully, but there it was. Melena had been through enough of a scare already; she didn’t need a brutal killer like Trygg showing up at her door, even if he did it with an unlikely gift in his hands.

Besides, Lazaro had placed the order for her as something more than just a courtesy. He supposed he’d been hoping it would also serve as some kind of apology. He’d been a warrior for twenty years, but he liked to think there was still some sense of decency in him. Given the way he’d treated Melena so far, she might be hard-pressed to agree.

“I’ll bring it myself,” he told Trygg. The vampire merely stared, his shrewd eyes unblinking, far too knowing. Lazaro tucked the long box under his arm. “There is something you can do. Locate Derek Walsh. Melena said her brother’s been spending his time between Paris and the United Kingdom. When you’ve got a bead on him, let me know.”

Trygg gave a slight nod. “Done.”

Lazaro stalked through the command center to the attached, four-story residential quarters. The Roman villa had ten bedrooms, but Melena had been placed in the largest suite in the estate. It was also the one place where he knew neither of her newest admirers would be tempted to seek her out.

Paused outside the closed door of his private quarters on the top floor, Lazaro noted she’d left the tray of food he’d delivered hours earlier untouched. It didn’t appear she’d even come out to look at it.

He listened for movement on the other side. Hearing nothing, he rapped his knuckles on the carved wooden door. He waited, feeling both awkward and annoyed.

When he knocked again and got no response, he started to get concerned.

He opened the door and peered inside. “Melena?”

His suite spanned the entirety of the villa’s fourth floor. He didn’t see her anywhere, not even in the spacious bedroom. He dropped the box on the end of the king-sized bed, then noticed the door to the en suite bath was cracked open.

Through the thin wedge, he saw her slip into a terry robe, apparently having just stepped out of the tub. He caught an unexpected glimpse of her bare skin—delectable curves, lovely breasts peaked with dusky peach nipples...the hint of dark curls at the
V
of her creamy thighs.

Ah, damn, she was gorgeous.

Everything male in him responded as swiftly—and as obviously—as everything Breed in him. His pulse jackhammered, the drum filling his ears with a rush of hot need. The tips of his fangs dug into his tongue, and as he stared at her, his gaze grew heated as his pupils thinned with his hunger and his cock thickened with desire.

Until he spotted the bruises that still lingered on her. His own wounds had healed, thanks to his Gen One metabolism, but Melena still carried numerous contusions on her ribs and delicate belly.

“Fuck.” Lazaro’s growled reaction made her look up sharply. Too late to pivot around and leave. Too late to pretend he hadn’t just crept into the room and stood there ogling her in open lust. Or to hope she wouldn’t notice how powerfully she affected him.

Her expression was guarded, wary. She opened the door wider, but he noticed how tightly she now gripped the edges of the robe at her chest. When Lazaro took a step toward her, she slipped out of the bathroom and into the larger space of the bedroom.

With some effort, he curbed the presence of his fangs. His vision was still awash in amber, but he could feel his pupils resuming a less feral state. And as for the state of his arousal, that was a more difficult thing to hide, let alone suppress. But while his body was still thrumming with awareness—and want—of her, his primary interest in that moment was Melena’s well being.

BOOK: Tempted by Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
11.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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