by Jackie Ivie
‘That was really something.’
No way. Too stupid.
‘You want to untie me so we can settle up?’
No. Too cold and unaffected. Wait. Did he want to show that she’d affected him?
‘Hey. Ruxanna. That was awesome.’
Nope. That sounded juvenile.
‘You are definitely worth whatever you charge, lady. I just hope I brought enough funds with me.’
Definitely no. Too crass.
What was he supposed to say? Everything sounded wrong. And then she stirred atop him.
“Zachariah?”
His heart swelled or something. The area warmed markedly and rapidly. What the hell? The effect of her voice against his chest was physical and real. He cleared his throat.
“Uh. Yeah?”
Good. His voice worked. It wasn’t giving anything away, either.
“What are you thinking?”
Oh boy. Loaded question.
Zach ran through his options for answering her again. Came up just as empty. He licked his lips next...and that’s when he tasted blood. Real. Metallic and vaguely salty. Stomach-churning. Blood. It wasn’t anything else. He’d tasted it enough times. Usually when someone got in a good hit on him. He swallowed again as his subconscious screamed at him.
Vampire! Vampire! Vampire!
Stop it, Zach. Balls tight. Brain in gear. Focus. Evaluate data. Vampires do not exist. They are not real. Rule One.
Everything went crystal clear in that moment. This was all part of the package. Castle Kraven specialized in personal attention. Somebody must have read his online history from years before. He’d been into otherworld beings. And something like bondage. He’d played video games that featured both before his dad passed on and left Zach with a choice. Drop out and take over the private eye business, stay in college and try and find somebody else to work for, or join the military.
He hadn’t gamed for years. No time, if he wanted to succeed at his chosen career. But maybe he should have used a fake ID when booking this weekend. That way nobody would have his algorithms loaded and calculated. Nor would they have interfaced it with some data and come up with this little scenario.
It explained the horse-drawn carriage. The hold-up. The vampire killing scene in the coach. The ruined castle above them. This room. The myriad of candles. The gauzy panels. The rose-colored fog. The epitome of womanhood who had him well in hand – Ruxanna, here.
It was all to set up one hell of an orgasmic session. No wonder she’d said she was fulfilling his fantasy. It was actually a bit of a let-down. Because if vampires did exist...well. Ruxanna would definitely qualify.
And then some.
“You know, Zachariah. If a man takes too long to answer...a girl might start to wonder why.”
She shifted atop him, lifting her head, and then her upper body, as she loomed right into viewing range. She had a lot of hair. It surrounded and framed her. He hadn’t noticed the volume of it. Maybe because it had been artfully arranged atop her head earlier, and his mind had been occupied. Looked like most of her coiffure had given up the fight sometime during their romp. And damn everything. She had the most perfect bosom. He tried not to notice, turning his full attention to her face. It wasn’t possible. She was a raving beauty. Wielded a sexual torch with her presence. And he was right in the firing line. His cock started reacting as if it hadn’t just been completely mollified.
“They...would?”
He managed to answer. It was in a rough tone, but it was words. And they were intelligible as such.
“Oh. Zachariah. Thank you. That was...wonderful. I had no idea such pleasure existed. You?”
She slid a perfectly manicured finger along his chin, grazed it across his bottom lip. Everywhere she touched, it started tingling. In anticipation. Or something.
“I’d heard that about mating. I didn’t believe it.”
Mating? What? Oh no! No. Hell no. That had been sex. Pure. Unadulterated. Hard as it comes...uh. Sex.
She clicked her tongue as if he spoken aloud. Lifted her finger from him. And that’s when he decided to go with his young and cocky routine again.
“So. Hey. Sweetheart. You aren’t thinking of going another round, are you? I mean. I’m good for it, if you are.”
“In a...bit. We need to talk first.”
“You want to talk? Now?” For emphasis, he shoved his pelvis up, smashing his semi-erection against either a thigh or her belly. He couldn’t tell, and either felt nice. Really nice.
“I don’t know how to say it, so I’ll just tell you. I...am a vampire,” she told him.
Zach snickered. “Right. Okay. If you say so. I think I’m going to go with a dragon, myself.”
“What?”
“I always chose the dragon character before. They had more power.”
“There’s no such thing as a dragon, Zachariah.”
She shook her head at him. But she was smiling. And there wasn’t a fang in sight. That was a good sign.
“You don’t say,” he answered.
“Yes, I do.”
She looked perplexed. That was rather endearing. His heart gave him a bit of trouble again. He ignored it.
“You need to lighten up, Roxie. I mean, you got me. Strapped to your bed. Primed and cocked, and pretty much loaded. And you’re trying to muck it up with fantasy world talk? What can I say here?”
“I am serious, Zachariah.”
“I know. Way too serious. And look. You have a guy tied to your bed. Me.”
He pulled his arms up until they reached the ends of his straps before he dropped them back to the mattress.
“I know.”
“You know? And that’s all you have to say?”
He grinned. She sat up straighter and regarded him with her luminous light-green eyes. His heart was starting to thud, like it was caged or something. And she was putting some fantastic cleavage on display. He blew a sigh so hard it puffed out his cheeks. She matched it.
Weird.
“I am too new to this,” she told him.
“Uh...” He didn’t know what to say. Zach’s heart did a swooping maneuver. His brows rose. No. She did not mean that the way it sounded. She couldn’t.
“You don’t understand. I have been regenerated. I have all kinds of emotions and feelings and sensations. I don’t know how to deal with them. I feel so...young.”
“Okay. You have some very strange ideas for bedtime talk, Roxie, but I’ll play. How old are you?” And please be over legal age.
“I am almost five hundred years old,” she told him.
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Well. I wouldn’t put you a day over twenty-six. And that’s pushing it,” he replied.
“You don’t believe me?” she finally said.
“Nope. But I’ll play along. I am a paying customer, remember? This is my fantasy. I sure as hell hope I brought enough funds.”
“There is no price, Zachariah. Don’t you understand? You are prientenul meu. Iubutul meu. Dragul meu.”
“Oh. No fair, lady. I can follow along if you’re speaking Spanish...and sometimes I get lucky and can figure out French. But what you’re speaking is way out of range.”
“It’s Romanian.”
“Okay. So. Do I want to know what you just said? That is the next question.”
“It translates to...my mate. My lover. My love.”
She enunciated the words slowly. Each one sent a spark of heat through his chest. Prodding his heart to hit against its cage again. Zach sharpened his gaze on her, studying her while he waited for the sensation to subside. So he could dissect it. Wasn’t that Rule Four? Find the trigger?
He lost out to the view. Damn! She was stunning. He licked his lips and started talking, but he sounded unsure even to his ears. “Uh...we just met. This is...fantasy.”
“You are wrong, Zachariah. This is real. We are mates. I told you. I am a vampire. You are my mate. We are now bonded. We’ve shared blood.”
“Uh...”
>
He really needed to follow his rules. All of them. They were hard to bring to mind, though. Her voice was hypnotic. Her skin magical. Everything about her called to him. There wasn’t any part of him that wanted to be anywhere but exactly where he was. He might as well be a sock stuck to a towel with static electricity from the dryer.
“Esti viata meao, si totul care conteaza.”
“Uh,” he said again.
“That means you are my world, and everything that matters.”
“Oh. Roxie. Listen. It was great, babe. I’ll grant you that. But...everything that matters? Come on. We just met. I don’t happen to believe that vampires exist. That does make us incompatible right from the get-go.”
“You are quick-witted, Zachariah. Clever. And very handsome.”
“Okay. That’s better bedtime talk.”
“I am so favored. I envisioned you for years. The reality is even better than I dreamt. You are very well...proportioned. Very nicely built. Everywhere.”
“Uh...”
She ran her finger down his arm, lifting shivers in its wake.
“We are mates, Zachariah. You and me. It’s not negotiable. It’s fact. Nothing you can say will change it. We are mates. And it’s forever, inbitul mea.”
Zach gulped and tried to resume his act again. Young. Cocky. Just out for a good time. It probably sounded as desperate as it felt.
“Talk...about a one-track mind. Listen. Uh...babe. Either untie me or jump on the equipment. Okay? You’re really starting to kill the urge here.”
The last was a complete lie. He was making long, slow thrusting motions along her skin. Every nerve ending he had was involved and loving it.
“I’m serious, Zachariah.”
“You want me serious, love? You’re gonna have to get me at a better time. And be wearing more. A whole lot more.”
He lurched against her with a solid push his mind hadn’t even cleared. She blinked slowly, and regarded him with those amazing eyes. Looking like twin shimmering pools with a sun-kissed surface. And he wasn’t the poetic type.
“You just called me love,” she told him.
“Uh. I did? Ahem. Figure of speech. Meaningless.”
“Really? Well, I don’t believe you.”
She was closing in on his mouth. To touch her lips to his. For a kiss. And he lurched up from the bed in order to make it happen. And just then the most horrid shrieking noise interrupted them, coming in three sharp bursts, stopping, and then repeating.
Zach jerked, his mouth slammed into hers, hitting teeth. That stung. He had to blink rapidly to halt the instant tears. She looked in exactly the same state.
“I must go.”
“Wait!”
She was already scooting off one side of the bed, making the mattress sway.
“I have to answer it.”
“That’s a phone? You have the worst ringtone in existence, Roxie. I swear, that’s enough to wake the dead.” It was loud enough he had to raise his voice over it. “Can’t you just take a message?”
“I have to answer it, Zachariah. It’s the Vampire Assassin League.”
“The vampire what?”
“I’ll be right back, Zachariah.”
Wow. She sounded like he was asking for something unreasonable. He grabbed for her with his legs. Missed. She was at the side of the bed and donning his shirt. He watched as she pulled her hair through the collar. Whoa. The view was unbelievable. With the stockings and garters she still wore, he sure hoped she wasn’t going traipsing about the hall like that.
“You’re just going to leave me like this?” He jerked his arms to the ends of his tethers as he tried to sit up. That failed ignominiously as he got yanked back down onto the mattress.
“I’ll be back. I promise.”
“Cut these ties first! Roxie! Are you frickin’ kidding me? Ah!”
He yelled the last part. The sound of the big-ass door closing answered him. And then he got nothing but silence.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Ah. Ruxanna! At last. There you are! Sir. I have Princess Ruxanna from Romania on the line. I’ll transfer the call.”
A moment later Akron’s voice came through her SAT phone. Ruxanna wasn’t really paying attention. She was too antsy. Uptight. Wound. Her mind was exactly where her body wished to be – with her mate.
“Princess?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve got a couple of assignments for you.”
“Can anyone else handle them?”
“Well. They both happen to be in your neck of the woods. Actually, I should specify. They’re both precisely in your location. Both of them. Pardon me for a moment. Nigel? What on earth are you doing up there?”
“High dusting, Sir. I should think it obvious.”
Nigel’s answer was easily audible, but she wasn’t truly paying attention. Ruxanna sat on a stone bench that chilled her thighs above the stockings, closed her eyes, and thoroughly enjoyed the series of tremors that ran through her body in a relentless pattern. Mating was incredible. Delightful. Magical.
“High dusting?”
“Remind me to never give Lizbeth free reign. Would you do that for me, Sir?”
“Ah. I begin to see. You called her a moniker, and this is what she required for payment. High dusting. In my study. You know, I have a cleaning staff. They come in regularly to do this. While I am absent.”
“She says I need to understand what women go through on a daily basis. She’s hoping doing household chores will make that happen. She offered me dishes. I declined.”
“You should have chosen dishwashing, Nigel. No one eats anything around here. You’d have been done in no time.”
“I thought of that, Sir, but you only half-turned her. She reminded me. She claims she’s always wanted to try her hand at being a gourmet chef. I wasn’t willing to chance it.”
“Ah. Well. That explains your feather duster and headscarf. I’m going to guess that is also why you’re wearing a skirt?”
“This is not a skirt, Sir. It’s a kilt. Scottish attire. I should think you’d recognize it. I ordered it from MacKettryck. It’s his clan colors.”
“You’ve got it on backwards Nigel. The pleats go in the back.”
“Oh. Holy snake scrotum...on rice. I ordered it too large. It won’t stay on straight. And...there. Is that better?”
“Snake scrotum? Snakes don’t have an external scrotum, Nigel. If they did, they’d have a real issue when slithering about. Imagine the pain potential. Don’t you agree?”
“It’s original, Sir. I’m earning extra credit as I speak.”
“I’m afraid to ask why. I really am. I believe I’ll just put it down to yet another unique and entertaining competition you have decided to pursue with Lizbeth. But, I am rather curious. Why did you order the wrong size for your Highland attire?”
“Because I’m tired of being the scrawny pipsqueak. MacKettryck hasn’t met me. Didn’t know me from Adam, or so he said. So I ordered a 32-inch waist. He doesn’t need to know I’m barely a 30.”
“You aren’t scrawny, Nigel. You’re lean. Fit enough. I believe you’d be described as athletic. You’re just young. Excruciatingly so. Dressing in large-size clothing and sticking on a false mustache and beard will not change that. Princess? You still with me?”
There was silence before she recognized he waited for her. Ruxanna blinked to bring the stone walls of her crypt back into view.
“Yes,” she finally replied.
“Good. We were discussing two assignments. Both were just received. Should be easy for you. One is a fellow by the name of Leroy...let me see. Yes. Here it is. Leroy Walters. Apparently, he has angered the wrong family. I have a price of one-point-five million Euros on his head. The Hong family originally wanted him alive. They put out a bounty on him. They are now out of patience. So, they called us.”
“Description? Distinguishing features?” she asked.
“Average height. Build. Light brown hair, thin on top. Cauca
sian. Mid-forties. Scar on right cheek. Known to frequent dens of iniquity. Has a fondness for mutilating women. I believe his preferred tool is a knife. According to our info, he was an early arrival to Castle Kraven last evening, or someone has stolen his identity.”
“Oh. No. He’s here. We have him in the dungeon.”
“See? Easy. About the other hit—. Forgive the intrusion, Ruxanna. Nigel. Please cease doing that directly above me. I’m not fond of dust particulates in my field of vision.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“And put something on beneath your kilt.”
“Highlanders don’t wear anything beneath their kilts, Sir. You should know that.”
“You’re not a Highlander, and I’m not appreciative of the view.”
“Just give it a few more minutes, Sir. I’m sure Lizbeth will be in here any moment.”
“What on earth for? Video?”
“She says I need to understand how it feels to be sexually harassed. Why do you think I chose a kilt and high dusting?”
Akron laughed uproariously. The phone in her hand boomed with the sound of his amusement. Ruxanna stared uncomprehendingly first at it, and then at the dark alcoves where the bones of her ancestors rested. She’d never felt so adrift. Odd. Alien.
Alone.
Akron’s amusement drifted into chuckles. He was probably wiping his eyes.
“Thank you, Nigel. Sincerely. I haven’t laughed that hard in decades. And here I thought Lizbeth had extraordinary brilliance. In every arena.”
“You mean she doesn’t? You can’t be serious.”
“Well, someone is not thinking this little lesson through to a predictable end. You see, sexual harassment is only an issue if it’s unwanted attention of a sexual nature. In your case, I’d say Lizbeth is well off the mark. You not only want it. You dressed to make certain to receive it. Maybe I should page her. I do believe this could be memorable to watch.”
“Yes. Do that Sir. I am getting tired of swishing this duster about.”
“Well, come down from there, then. Princess?”
“Yes,” she responded automatically.
“I do like these satellite connections. No need to worry over tracing and time restrictions. That’s what comes from embedding code back in the eighties while they were still in the circuitry stage. Before they launched them into space. Of course, I’m not trusting technology to stagnate. We’ve probably only got a few more years before they discover our little trick. In the meantime, we can talk as long as we like. The other hit I have for you is for a fellow named Zachariah Reed.”
