by Amelia Elias
She tugged at her hand again. “What are you going to do?”
“Shh.”
Sian held her breath as he brought her throbbing palm to his lips and breathed gently over it. She winced in anticipation—the burns were incredibly sore and even the air hurt—but there was no pain. She watched in amazement as the blisters shrank and the redness faded before her eyes. A bare moment later, her palm was smooth and unmarked again, the burn only a memory. “How did you do that?” she whispered.
Diego dropped her hand and captured the other one. “Did you burn this one, too?” He didn’t wait for an answer before gently teasing her fingers open. She stared in amazement as he repeated the process, and the wounds vanished almost at once. He looked up at her when he was done, his green eyes dark in the moonlight. “Anywhere else?”
Sian shook her head, momentarily robbed of her voice, so stunned she forgot to struggle to get away from him. How could anyone make burns disappear like that? She remembered him saying he’d brought her to his home to heal her after the accident. Suddenly his story didn’t seem quite so far-fetched.
Diego set her gently back on her feet and held her at an arm’s length, raking her with his electric green gaze. He sighed and shook his head at the scratches on her legs. “Am I to spend the rest of forever healing you?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
She danced back when he started to reach for her again, stopping only when he tugged her wrist again. There had been something inherently sensual about his breath softly kissing her palms. No way was she going to let a stranger put his mouth on her legs, no matter how much the scratches stung.
“What do you mean, the rest of forever?” she asked, her brain slowly starting to function again. “And why did you call me your mate?”
Diego ran his free hand through his hair and Sian wished she could stop noticing just how much the moonlight loved this man. He looked like some primitive beast bathed in silver, dark and sensual and devastating to a woman’s senses. When he met her eyes again, it was almost impossible to breathe normally. Never before in her life had she had any man’s undivided attention.
No. That wasn’t true.
Enrique Santonyo had certainly given her his full and undivided attention.
That thought sobered her and Sian pulled at her wrist again in another futile effort to free herself. “Well?” she prompted when he still didn’t answer.
Diego drew her to his side, ignoring her attempts to dig in her heels. “We’ll talk about this inside.”
Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms and strode up the gravel driveway. None of her protests or struggles made the least bit of difference and, after several frustrating minutes, Sian submitted to being carried with poor grace. She crossed her arms over her chest, stubbornly refusing to put them around his neck, purposefully making herself the most awkward burden possible.
Her effort was totally lost on him. He wasn’t even out of breath when they reached the house ten minutes later.
James met them at the door and scowled at Sian. Diego shot him a warning glance and the Steward stepped aside without a word, but not before Sian asked, “How’s your head?” in a smug tone that made James’s fists clench.
The door slammed behind them and Sian jumped, positive no one had touched it, but before she could wonder about it, Diego dumped her unceremoniously on the couch. He threw himself into an armchair beside her and rubbed his temples silently as if he had the mother of all headaches.
She sincerely hoped he did. She hated to be manhandled. “So, are you going to get around to answering my questions now or are you going to drag me around somewhere else against my will?”
He shot her a look. “I’m trying to decide how to explain this,” he said through his teeth. “Would it be too much to ask for you to give me a minute to gather my thoughts?”
“Yes,” she said unsympathetically. “I want to go home, not listen to explanations. Spill it, caveman.”
He rubbed his temples some more. “I knew you were going to say that,” he muttered.
Sian tapped her fingers on her elbows and waited impatiently.
Finally he sat back and pushed up his left sleeve, holding up his bare forearm. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of the dark band around his arm. It was identical to the one on her arm. “Oh, no you did not,” she breathed, staring. “How dare you tattoo me while I was unconscious?”
He shook his head. “No, I most certainly didn’t, and I’m no happier about it than you are. This is a bondmark, Sian, and it means you and I are mated—like being married. Only this marriage is for eternity.”
Sian gaped at him, momentarily too stunned to speak. The man was a lunatic, an absolute madman if he thought she was going to marry him based on some weird tattoo he’d put on her while she was unconscious.
Finally she managed to find her voice even though her throat felt much too tight. “You’re in for a big disappointment if you expect me to happily play the little wifey for you. I think I’d rather go to one of those laser places, have the thing removed, and forget I ever saw you. How’s that for a plan?”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward in the ghost of a grin. “Trust me, I had the same thought, but it wouldn’t work.”
“What, is it some special kind of super ink or something?”
“You could say that.” He looked gloomily at his own mark. “Supernatural ink.”
Sian stood slowly, ignoring the protests of her sore feet, and cautiously backed away. “Why did you do this if you’re so unhappy about it?” she asked, trying to keep him talking while she edged closer to the door.
He was rubbing his temples again, not looking at her. “I told you, I didn’t put them there. I had no more choice in the matter than you did. Want to be angry at someone? I’ll give you Eli’s number and you can yell at him. Let me know if it makes you feel better because it sure didn’t work for me.”
Sian wasn’t going to ask who Eli was. She really didn’t want to know how many men had been in that bedroom with her while she was unconscious, and she really, truly didn’t want to know anything else about what they’d done to her. Her stomach clenched and she felt like vomiting as her imagination kicked into overdrive anyway.
She had to get out of here.
“Nothing happened to you, Sian,” Diego murmured as she reached for the doorknob. Sian froze in place. He hadn’t moved from his position, still rubbing his temples with his eyes closed. “No one touched you. I would never allow anyone to hurt you.”
He did not just read my mind. Her hand hovered over the doorknob as she stared at him. That’s impossible. Don’t even go there, Sian. “Well, that’s reassuring,” she said, hoping her sarcasm didn’t show too much. She didn’t need a protector.
Well, maybe she could use a protector, or at the very least an ally, but she would rather have some say in choosing one. She couldn’t see ever picking anyone as psycho as this guy. “How about you just keep an eye on me from a distance in the future?”
“Can’t do it,” he said resignedly. He finally looked up at her and she snatched her hand back from the doorknob, trying to look nonchalant. “Now that you know what this is,” he touched the mark on his forearm, “I need to tell you what I am.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and noticed for the first time how cold her wet shirt was. She glanced down and bit back a groan—it was plastered to her body, the material almost transparent. Her lacy bra and panties showed right through it. She snatched a throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself furiously.
“Oh, wait, I remember this part,” she snapped, outrage warring with sarcasm in her voice. “You’re a vampire, right? Big bad bloodsucker? Is there something in undead etiquette that makes it okay for you not to tell me you can see straight through my shirt?”
Diego wished he could say he hadn’t noticed, but he knew better than to try to lie to her. She looked far too delicious in his wet shirt and, after that smoldering kis
s, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from noticing. The memory of her lush body pressed against his last night was enough to make him want to howl.
Dios, it had been too long since he’d held a woman if he could want a woman who exasperated him as much as Sian did. He really wished Eli was here. He ached to inflict some serious pain on the interfering ancient. “I’m not undead,” he told her instead, avoiding her question entirely.
“Oh, well that makes everything all better. Here I thought all vampires were undead, but hey, you learn something new every day.”
“None of us are undead,” Diego said with a patience he did not feel. “Will you try to calm down?”
“I’ve been kidnapped by a man who not only thinks we’re married but also thinks he’s a vampire, and you want me to calm down?”
Diego felt his fangs press against his lips and forced them away. One temper fit at a time was more than enough, and it was clearly Sian’s turn. He rubbed his temples again, trying to find the right words, only to be brought up short by the sound of the door opening. He looked up to see Sian and James glaring daggers at each other and quickly got to his feet. “What is it, James?”
James tossed a set of keys to him and Diego caught them out of reflex. “Her car,” he said shortly before ducking back out and slamming the door behind him.
Sian’s jaw dropped when he tucked the keys into his pocket. “Give me those!”
Diego sighed again. “Not until you give me your word you won’t try to leave.”
Amazing how such cool blue eyes could burn with fury. “I will do no such thing,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “That is my car and I’ve had just about enough of your nonsense. Give me my keys!”
Diego stood, making no move to retrieve the keys for her. “You’re tired,” he said, his voice very low. “You’ve had an ordeal and you need rest.” It went against every principle he held dear to use compulsion on her, but until she was more rational he knew he didn’t have a hope of reasoning with her.
“I’m not tired. I’m cold and wet and mad as hell, but I’m not tired.”
He should’ve known it wouldn’t work. If he hadn’t been able to do it while she was sleeping, why should he be able to use compulsion on her while she was wide awake and wary?
“Fine,” Diego said wearily, digging her keys back out of his pocket. “You need clothes anyway. Let’s go.”
She was clearly caught off-guard by his sudden change of heart but held out her hand for the keys anyway. He held them out to her but caught her wrist when she took them.
“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m not taking you to my house and that’s final,” Sian said, clearly grasping his intent.
“Then you’re not going.” He felt absolutely no desire to be reasonable about this. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, Sian. Get used to it.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Sian sped down the driveway, seething and doing her best to ignore her very imposing and greatly unwanted passenger. Diego was good as his word, refusing to budge until she’d had no choice but to take him with her. No way was she going to spend one more minute than she had to in his clothes, but she hated letting him know where she lived.
Her instincts, though, seemed to be firmly on Diego’s side. Sian could’ve cursed them. She’d come to rely on her intuition, gut feelings, whatever she wanted to call it, and she didn’t like its betrayal one bit. More times than she could count, her intuition had led her to the right place at the right time, or kept her from the wrong place at the wrong time. She’d learned to trust it implicitly.
All her instincts were telling her Diego was deadly dangerous, but not to her.
Yeah, right, she told her instincts. The man kidnapped me and held me hostage, took off my clothes and refuses to let me out of his sight, not to mention he’s apparently stolen my purse too. You want to explain how he’s not dangerous to me?
Her instincts paid no attention. They persisted on trusting him on a level that went far deeper than reason, reassuring her this man would rather die than harm her.
Sian ignored them with difficulty, keeping her guard up. She wasn’t the only one in her family to have inherited this strange intuition. Her father had had it so strongly it bordered on precognition. His mother had been Cajun, a practicing voodoo priestess famous for her second sight. Her family had never been large and every member she’d ever known had possessed the same thing to varying degrees. She couldn’t remember ever hearing one instance where anyone in her family had been in a similar predicament where they didn’t dare trust it.
Which left her in a sticky situation. What to trust, a gut feeling that defied definition or the evidence of every other sense she possessed?
Diego stiffened beside her as she whipped around a corner, sending gravel flying. His driveway was full of switchbacks and false turns, as she’d found out earlier when she’d been trying to find her way out. “Must you go so fast?” he asked mildly.
She clenched her jaw. “You don’t like the way I drive, I’m happy to let you out here and you can walk back to your house,” she snapped.
“You won’t get through the gate without me,” Diego pointed out, still in the same mild tone.
She didn’t need the reminder. It had been the only reason she’d agreed to his accompanying her on this little jaunt. She skidded around another turn and hit the brakes a little too hard when the gate loomed in the beam of her headlights. She opened her mouth to demand he open the gate but before she could even take a breath it was swinging open. She shot a glance at him.
The man hadn’t moved a muscle.
Sian started to ask how he’d done that, but remembering how he’d healed her hands earlier she bit off the question. You really don’t want to know, she told herself firmly. He’ll just tell you he’s a vampire or a warlock or some nonsense.
Her instincts tried to speak up again but she ignored them ruthlessly.
It took less than thirty minutes to get back to the city, the silence tense and awkward the entire time. Sian felt no desire to speak to her captor and Diego did nothing to relieve the tension. By the time she pulled into the tiny alley behind her apartment building, she was wound tighter than a guitar string, nerves snapping.
She dreaded walking up to her door wearing nothing but Diego’s shirt.
Diego surprised her by shrugging off his jacket, no small feat in the confines of the Mini, and handing it to her. “Tie it around your waist,” he advised. “No one will know if you’re wearing shorts under it or not.”
“Thanks,” Sian said, trying not to notice how the material still held the heat from his body. She got out and quickly tied the jacket around her waist. It fell past her knees, covering her more than adequately. She locked Baby and turned toward the narrow staircase leading up to her second story apartment.
Diego stopped her with a hand on her arm.
Sian started to yank her arm away but stopped when she saw the look on his face. Eyes alert, every line of his face tense, his gaze was focused on the window of her apartment. She didn’t even wonder how he knew which one it was as her own gut tightened with a feeling she’d come to know too well. It hadn’t been the tension from the silence in the car that had been bothering her on the way over here.
The psychic echoes of fury and danger radiated from her apartment, fouling the night air.
* * *
Chapter Four
“Stay here,” Diego said, the barest hint of a growl in his low voice, urging her gently back toward the car.
Sian planted her bare feet stubbornly. “No way. That’s my home up there and you’re not going inside without me.”
He spared her a single glance. “You’re not going one step closer until I make sure it’s safe,” he said, the growl much more than a hint now. “You feel it, too, I can tell. Don’t be stupid, Sian. Stay here.”
She lifted her chin. “We’re wasting time arguing,” she said, turning her back on him and starting for the stairs.
“You will stay behind me at all times,” Diego breathed in her ear. She shivered and hoped he wouldn’t notice. He plucked her keys from her suddenly nerveless fingers and picked her apartment key from the jumble unerringly. “Do you understand me, Sian? I have no qualms whatsoever about restraining you in the car.”
She didn’t even need gut instinct to know he was telling the truth about that. “Fine,” she whispered, hating when the word came out breathless. She never sounded like that. “Now get your hands off me. There’s no reason for you to touch me.”
He laughed softly in her ear. “There’s every reason for me to touch you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her skin. Before she could think of any reply, he released her, surprising her so much she actually stumbled. He stepped around her and started up the stairs. His long legs took them two at a time and Sian hurried to catch up.
He stopped at the second floor landing abruptly. She ran into his back before she could stop. He reached back without even looking and steadied her as she teetered on the top stair. Sian leaned around him to try and see, ignoring that she had to press against him to do it—or at least, trying to ignore it. Diego was the kind of man who was difficult to ignore.
The sight of her shattered front door went a long way toward clearing her mind. Sian gasped and tried to push past him, fury bursting through her with brutal force. The only personal possessions she had left were in there. She felt violated to her very soul. Diego turned and caught her, restraining her easily when she would have charged inside.
“Let me go!”
He held her hard, backing her two steps down the stairs. “You will not go in there until I make sure whoever did this is gone.” The words were spoken softly, but his tone made them a command.
