Her body melted into his as she kissed him. His arms locked around her tightly, holding her close to him, his mouth moving on hers, meeting fire with fire. Sweetness with more sweetness. He tasted hot and masculine and passionate, but there was something else now, something underlying she couldn't quite put her finger on. The more they were in each other's head, the more she felt she knew him. The closer she felt to him.
Still, she'd been careful not to look too deep. He wasn't human. She knew that. She even accepted it, but that didn't mean she wanted to know too much too fast. By going slow, she could accept the things she learned about him and not be afraid.
"Please be real," she murmured against his mouth. His beautiful, fabulous mouth that could kiss like a dream. "I need you to be real."
"I am real," he assured, nuzzling the top of her head with his chin.
She continued to cling to him. "If you aren't, I need to thank you." She felt the instant tension coiling in his body, the rejection of what she needed to say. Her fingers bunched his hair in a tight fist. "No. I have to say this to you. You have to hear me, Maksim."
She couldn't look at him when she confessed. She was too ashamed. Her father would have been angry with her. Emeline knew her well enough to know what had been in her head or she wouldn't have accepted Blaze having wild sex with a stranger so readily.
"I wanted to die last night. I intended to die." She made the confession in a little rush. "I was supposed to work that shift and Dad took it for me. The police wouldn't help me find him, and I looked everywhere I could think that they might take him, but I couldn't find him. I was outside the bar in the early-morning hours, and they threw him out of a moving car at my feet. He was already dead. It was . . . unimaginable." Pain broke through her voice. "I know I told you this, but you have to understand where my head was, what I would have done had you not saved me from myself."
"Sufletul meu," he whispered softly. Gently. His arms tightened around her, but the way he held her felt like comfort. Like shelter. "I am sorry I was not there to help you when you needed me."
The hint of tenderness was nearly her undoing. She had to choke back a sob. "You saved my life." He had to know. Whatever was between them, he had to know that if he hadn't come along, if he hadn't been so intense and passionate, making her feel alive again when she'd felt dead inside . . . "You were there when I needed you most."
"You saved not only my life, Blaze," he said, feathering kisses down the side of her cheek to her chin. "You saved my honor, and to a Carpathian, honor is everything. I would say we were more than even." His fingers smoothed over her cheek.
Again there was a hint of tenderness in his touch that sent her stomach into a series of somersaults. She smiled up at him. "I just wanted you to know. In case. You know."
He frowned. "In case, I know what? Clearly I don't know."
"Um." Uh-oh. She didn't like that look on his face. He could go from sweet to arrogant in the blink of an eye. Not just arrogant, but scary dangerous, don't-mess-with-me gorgeous. "Just in case," she persisted. But her voice stumbled. "Things don't work out."
His eyebrow shot up. "Things do not work out? What things? We will get those responsible for your father's death. I already have men working on it. They are hunters. They have been hunting for centuries. Coonan will not escape and neither will his human killers."
She really needed to leave it there. Honesty was only good when a man wasn't looking down at you with predatory, glittering eyes, warning you to stop while you were ahead. So she stopped. But his arms didn't loosen.
"I am not going anywhere. You are my lifemate. I realize we have not had the time to get to know one another or even to talk about what this really means, but know this . . . I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere."
She was getting that. Her stomach fluttered right before the somersaults started. He could do that to her without even trying. She cleared her throat. "I need to get inside. The club is filling up and Emeline is inside. If Jimmy Hallahan spots her before she dances, he'll make a move on her. She's that striking. Dancing, she'll probably start a riot." She wasn't kidding about that, either. Emeline wasn't merely beautiful. There was no way for Blaze to describe her adequately to Maksim. He had to see for himself.
"I am going to allow you to get away with that," he said, his voice low as always. Still, she knew he was annoyed with her. There was the bite of a lash underlying his tone, making her shiver. "Remember I am your sugar daddy. Play your part."
She felt the subtle difference in him immediately and she looked up, gasping at the change in his features. He looked much older, a good twenty or more years older than she was. His hair was short and definitely salt and pepper. His face had changed to that of a man who was definitely a powerhouse, but not so much in a physical way. He was corporate. His suit was worth upwards of a thousand dollars or more. His shoes were Italian.
She glanced down at her own clothes. Her jeans were gone. She wore a halter minidress. The front was two strips of material that barely covered her breasts, plunging below her waist with a bow and ruffle draping gracefully over the tiny skirt. There was virtually no back. The material clung to her body, showing off her figure. Her shoes were four-inch stiletto heels with dozens of straps going up her ankle. The dress was shorter than any she had ever worn before and far more expensive.
"You ever wear something like this without me right next to you, and we are going to have problems," he said, taking her hand and leading her across the street to the club.
"Just pointing out, I don't own anything like this," she said, smoothing her hand down the silky material. It draped beautifully, but she could feel the breeze on her body as she took each step. "I think the thong is a little much," she added. "The skirt barely covers my butt."
"You have a great butt," he pointed out. "We own a dance club and this attire is fairly tame in comparison to what quite a lot of the women wear. Besides, your sugar daddy is a total letch. Otherwise why would he bring his woman to a place like this? He will be touching you every chance he gets. The thong is something he probably wouldn't want you wearing. I gave you that as a concession so I wouldn't have to kill anyone tonight. You will not be leaving my side."
A little shiver of anticipation went through her. The dress was beautiful and it fit like a glove. She wasn't wearing a bra because it was impossible with the back and front, both nonexistent, totally bordering on indecency. She felt the material draping low, just above the curve of her butt, and with every step she took, it brushed over her skin like fingers.
Maksim's hand was a brand on her back, low, right above the material, but sliding down every now and then to stroke the curve of her bottom. In her high heels, her body swayed with a subtle invitation so that the silk dragged across her nipples, sending little darts of fire straight to her core. The feeling was just plain sexy.
They turned heads as they walked in together. Maksim immediately leaned into the bouncer and spoke authoritatively in his ear. The bouncer nodded, signaled for a waitress and pushed the hundred-dollar bill into his pocket. It was done smoothly and Maksim's hand never stopped stroking her bare skin and dipping lower to caress her buttocks.
They were led to a small, intimate booth raised so they could easily see the dancers onstage, but the lighting was low. "Perfect," Maksim said, sliding another hundred toward the waitress. "Just what I asked for. See, honey, the table is draped. You need to slide under there and take care of me; no one can see a thing." He said it loud enough for the waitress to hear. As he spoke, Maksim's hand slid up her thigh, straight under the short hem of her dress to go up her hip.
Blaze stayed perfectly still, trying to control the heat in her body and the blush rising. The lights were low, and Maksim's body was between her and everyone else, but still, it was a highly embarrassing moment. She was an object, there to serve him, and he was making that clear. The waitress flashed him a flirty smile, pushing the money down into her ample cleavage. She didn't even look at Blaze, because clearly Maksim's
toy didn't count, instead batting her lashes at Maksim and smiling huge for him.
He winked at the waitress and slid into the booth, pulling Blaze in after him. He ordered bourbon for himself and a blow job for Blaze. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes.
You don't need to be so obvious.
Sure I do. The waitress will report the high roller obsessed with sex to her boss. I want his attention on me. They like high rollers here. They have a back room where the girls take customers for special shows.
They do? What had Emeline gotten herself into?
His hand dropped below the table to slide up her thigh, taking her skirt with it. All the while he smiled at the waitress. "Keep them coming, sweetheart. I heard the shows were great here and I think my girl is going to need to do a lot of work tonight, right, baby?"
Blaze leaned into him and licked up the side of his neck. "I'll keep you happy, handsome. You know I always do."
"Sometimes with a little help from your friends," he said, and laughed coarsely.
The hand on her thigh traced patterns in her skin. His fingers were hot, branding those patterns into her skin. She didn't want to be aware of him in such a sleazy place, but it was impossible. She knew he was playing a part and helping her to do the same, but she was already so aware of him, just the slightest touch sent little sparks of electricity surging through her bloodstream.
The waitress leaned close, giving him more of a view of her large breasts and just a hint of darker nipples barely hidden beneath her bustier. "We are very friendly here," she assured in a purring voice.
Do you see Emeline anywhere? he asked.
There was a little note of worry in his voice, and that both pleased and worried her. She liked that he was anxious for Emeline's safety but concerned that he felt the need to be anxious. She'd scanned the room the moment she'd walked in, but there were so many people. The room was dark so that she couldn't see much but the raised stage where the dancers performed and the elevated cages where several dancers swayed, bumped and ground to the music.
She had thought of the club as a strip joint, but she could see it had been made into so much more than that. On the surface, the atmosphere would appeal to many young people as well as the men who came to see the strippers. Knowing there was a back room where other services could be bought explained the extreme popularity.
Emeline wasn't near the stage, and even from their raised dais, Blaze couldn't spot her anywhere. She searched the room for Jimmy Hallahan. He was near the bar, leaning down talking to their waitress. Twice he glanced toward their booth, and Blaze made certain her face was tipped up to stare at Maksim adoringly.
There was a shadow across her face, and she knew Maksim kept it there. No matter which direction she moved, her features were impossible to really see in the darkened room.
Hallahan is over by the bar with our waitress. He keeps looking this way. I don't think he's seen Em yet or he'd be all over her. She must be in the back with the other dancers getting ready for the show.
Just the sight of Jimmy Hallahan sickened her. She wanted to go to him, right there, press a gun to his chin and pull the trigger. When he'd thrown her father's body from the car, he'd leaned out, laughing.
"Not yet," he said softly, bending his head to put his lips against her ear. His hand rubbed along her thigh. The gesture wasn't in the least sexual. He was comforting her. "We want information. Once you kill Hallahan, this place will go crazy. Especially if you do it out in the open. Have patience."
That settled her stomach. She hadn't even known until that moment her stomach was churning and bile was rising. Not until his soft, mesmerizing voice and the stroking caress of his hand calmed her.
"No one can really see my body, either, can they?" she asked with sudden insight. She turned her head and looked up at him. His jaw hardened, and it was already pretty hard. His black eyes burned, almost glowing in the dark.
"Do you really think I would expose your body to other men's eyes? They do not see you. They see a woman with short black hair, in a white, not very decent dress, revealing what they believe is her body. It is not. Not even close."
She should have known. He had created an illusion for himself; of course he would do the same for her. She saw herself, but no one else would. No one else could. Whatever body he had chosen, whatever face, definitely didn't look a thing like her.
"I can feel your hands on my skin."
"Because I can touch you. No matter what form either of us takes, we can always feel and see each other. If you look close enough, you will see past the form I created for me."
"So do you see me in the dress, or do you see the form you created?" She was curious, because she could see her own body in the dress, the material teasing her nipples. She could feel his hand stroking up her thigh and over her bottom, sending a series of flames dancing through her core.
"Of course I see only you. I touch only you. You are beautiful, and in that dress--which should only be worn in a bedroom, not a club--I can feel a physical response. I do not have a physical response to other women. I am playing the part of a letch who cannot keep his hands off a woman. I have to make it look somewhat believable, and the only way I can do that is to see you and touch you."
She liked that. She liked that a lot. She wasn't certain, once the dancing started, that his assessment would hold true, but she liked that he thought it.
"I like that no one in the club can see me in this dress. More, I like that you don't want them to," she admitted.
"As long as I am close to you the illusion will hold. That is one of the many reasons you do not leave my side in this dress."
"I will have to leave it in order to take care of Hallahan." She looked right into his eyes. "It will be me taking care of him, not you. And not your friend." She made it a firm statement, watching him the entire time. She wasn't going to allow anyone else to avenge her father, and she wanted Jimmy Hallahan to know it was Sean's daughter who took him down.
Maksim leaned into her, his body shifting slightly. At once she felt protected. Sheltered by him. His hand cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "I know you now, lifemate. I see your need and as your lifemate, it is my duty to provide for you. I will not have you in danger, but when you can safely get to this man, I will shield you from the rest of the world and you can do what you have to in order to rid the world of a monster. Make no mistake, Blaze, Jimmy Hallahan was a monster long before Reginald Coonan got a hold of him, and now that he is under the influence of a vampire, he is worse than you can imagine. If your girl Emeline catches his eye, she will be in great danger."
Blaze took a breath. "She'll catch his eye. She'll catch everyone's eye." Including his. Emeline was beyond beautiful and if she was dancing . . . Blaze had seen her moves on the dance floor of clubs and in the privacy of her home when Em and Blaze were having fun, drinking and showing off dance moves. No one moved like Emeline. She had always been super proud of Emeline, but now, she suddenly realized Maksim's eyes would also be on her friend. He might believe he wouldn't have a physical reaction to another woman, but once he saw Emeline, dancing or not, he would know he was wrong.
Maksim caught her chin in a firm grip, tilting her head, forcing her gaze to meet his. His eyes, so black she caught her breath at the emptiness she saw there, the endless black void. Cool. Remote. And then they blazed with life, with emotion, only for her. Only hers. Her breath caught deep in her lungs and she felt him there, inside of her. Moving in her mind. Deep in her body. Surrounding her.
"There is only you, Blaze. I realize it is a difficult concept to imagine that a man could be dead to all feeling, to all color, to everything but hunting until you walked into his life. Until I heard your voice and you brought me to life. That is the way our species is. You hold the other half of my soul. I cannot see other women. Not in the way that you fear. It is an impossibility."
Her heart skipped a beat. He was telling the strict truth. She knew it by his voice
. She knew it by the flaring of life in his eyes. She was in his mind and the truth was there as well. She moistened her lips. He was right. It was difficult to grasp the concept, even when he laid it out in front of her. She couldn't imagine a man like him, a powerful, gorgeous all-male man going to a club and not reacting to the women and their bodies on display.
"Tell me your plan," Maksim said. "I know you and your girl have got one. I have waited patiently for you to tell me."
"You might not like it, but it makes sense." Blaze found it strange and a bit thrilling to be sitting in a nightclub, seeing him, yet not seeing him, hearing his velvet hypnotic voice sliding over her skin--skin that wasn't hers yet still was. She liked him sitting next to her. More, she felt safe. They were in the lion's den and she felt safe.
"Tell me."
She could give him that because already she knew his mind. She knew he kept his word, and she was beginning to know if something was important to her, it was important to him. "The Hallahan brothers have a reputation with women. They like to force their dancers to submit to them. The more high class the dancer, they more they're determined to break her. Emeline is going to get Jimmy Hallahan's attention, and he's going to invite her upstairs to the apartment where they bring their women."
"I figured that part out."
His hand dropped to her thigh. Fingers splayed wide to take in as much bare skin as possible. He had big hands, and she felt he could almost wrap them around her leg right there. Her heart jumped and then began pounding like crazy, so hard she felt the rhythm of the pounding music surrounding them pulse in time to the beat of her heart.
"Jimmy will take her upstairs. I'll find my way up there and he'll get his chance to make peace with whatever god he believes in."
"His god is a vampire, Blaze," he said. "He has no mercy left in him. No goodness. He lives for others' pain and for his own depravity. He has to hurt others because it is the only way the man can get off."
Dark Crime Page 10
