by H. D. March
The dark haired man with the grey eyes remained, along with the image.
The engine screeched in a loud groan, still in first gear, until she switched up, and swinging out of the fast food outlet Jess hit the main road. Again, she peered into her mirror and spotted a figure running to a sleek black sports job.
Jess pressed her foot flat to the floor; ignoring the twisting road, she raced away from the car intent on following her.
“Oh God, oh please no—” The tears snuffled out, and her hands shook. “They can’t be, vampires don’t exist, you’re hallucinating.” Jess continued to talk to herself. Shit. She flicked another fear-infused glimpse to the mirror, the black car basked in the distance. It resembled a menacing shark that stalked her. Coming closer and closer, gaining on her. Please God, don’t let me die a virgin. That was all she could think about.
She’d come so close and couldn’t have it snatched away, not now.
The mini veered crazily around the sharp bends, she didn’t slow her speed, daren’t. Because she knew if that grey-eyed man-come-vampire caught her, she’d be history. Fuck, why did she have to stop there of all places? Couldn’t she have gone for a KFC? Jess cursed loud and long.
Her palms damp with perspiration, the fear trickled out of her pores, and she gripped the wheel, when another hairpin bend appeared. Again, she checked her rear view mirror; the car appeared to be nearing, closing the gap.
The bend too sharp, she raced towards the trees, unable to stop, her eyes closed, and she skidded out of control. The car spun and veered.
Her terrified scream echoed through the air along with the crunch of metal.
Chapter Three
Rune sat outside his log cabin, surrounded by the scented pines that covered the mountain. It was a place he liked to relax in, put the world to right, and gather his thoughts. The town of Northlands lay sprawling in the distance. A hint of a frown line creased his forehead, remembering the meeting he’d returned from.
The High Council had called in The National Bureau, the detective agency he had supposedly retired from, or at least he’d tried to. Both himself and Wolfe had attended. As its best undercover agents, he wasn’t surprised. The fact the killings were local evoked his interest; it was an assignment he wouldn’t turn down. Rune worked for the Bureau on a part-time basis, which suited him. He’d attend meetings and undertake two to three missions a year. It was enough to dampen his boredom.
Rune remembered Wolfe’s disbelief when he’d said he wanted to pack it in, to spend more time running Caprice. And how right he’d been, his best friend knew him well.
Wolfe had speared him with a sceptical glimpse of flint. He’d laughed out loud and dismissed his words. “Yea, bet you a ton you’ll be begging for a mission to break up the monotony.”
After exactly six months, Wolfe’s words had come true. Rune had drawn himself out of retirement to take on a few select jobs. Anything to fulfil the need for stimulation, to fuel his adrenalin along with the explosion of anticipation.
He’d agreed to take on the new task with a keen vigour. Yet what did shock him were the amount of attacks taking place. There appeared to be a plague of rogue vampires roaming the U.K. killing at will. However, in the south, close to Northlands, where Caprice sat on the outskirts, there appeared to be a cluster of them, and it was these that concerned him. But hell, they covered their tracks well; not one clue, fuck all, to lead either him or Wolfe to who was organising it. And more so, why, or what, had caused the sudden splurge of local killings? He’d checked out the details and delved back in the archives. The attacks appeared to take place in a specific period of time, almost an anniversary, and he couldn’t work it out.
He pushed his hand through the mane of tawny hair that feathered around his neck and attempted to smother a grin. Wolfe was one pissed bastard.
He’d been taken off the case and put on babysitting duties. To protect the spoilt daughter of a rich politician. He wasn’t amused, and, as usual, had voiced it, vocally.
Even more so because Wolfe lived for the Bureau, no job was too dangerous, the bigger the risk the better he liked it. The closer he danced with death, the higher his thrill.
His friend was seriously pissed that his mate was taking on rogues, whilst he was left to a high-maintenance female.
Rune dropped his thoughts and rose; in the distance, he could make out a small, blue car driving erratically. It looped and raced around the hairpin bends on an obvious suicide mission. He was about to ignore it; Rune had no patience with joy riders, young kids that should know better, that wouldn’t live long enough to learn common sense.
Behind it tore another car; it looked as if it were chasing the small one. At once curious, he admitted it could be nothing, or something, and decided to find out.
He trotted down the mountain, his paws silent on the pine needles that littered the floor. The path meandered on a winding trail down to the valley. His ears pricked, and a scream shivered over him, seconds before an explosion. The screech of metal tore through the air. And Rune leapt forward.
Breaking out from the trees, he saw the car crumpled against a large oak, the bonnet crushed against the bark. Rune paused, changing back, he glanced around, yet there was no sign of the other vehicle. His head cricked to the side and listened to the slow drone of a motor that filtered away.
He yanked at the car door; the body of a woman lying over the steering wheel was the first thing he saw. Rune wondered if she were dead and pulled her back, his hand on her shoulder. His golden eyes deepened, and he touched her throat, a pulse beat in a steady rhythm.
A sense of relief ripped over him, although why he couldn’t say. Because usually he wouldn’t care if the stranger were alive or dead. But this woman, even unconscious, somehow aroused alien sensations in him; she was beautiful, yet so was Storm, his mistress, and she didn’t invoke this reaction.
Taking care, he released her safety belt and scooped her into his arms, then reached in and grasped her bag. He wondered who she was, and where she was going. Also who was chasing her and why.
And knew any information would be inside her personal belongings. Rune had no guilt at filching through her bag.
§§§
Jess scrubbed her eyes and blinked, she peered around, wondering where the hell she was. Her mind and thoughts scrambled, she tried to work out what had happened. Had she died, was she in heaven? Nah, with her luck and history, she was most likely in hell as a frigging virgin.
She warily gazed around, her head thumped and she touched it, a lump rose beneath her fingers. The room shimmered, awash in a soft light, and she decided she had to be alive, sure that neither heaven nor hell had electricity. At least she didn’t think so.
She rested her hand on her bare stomach, and then snuck a peek beneath the sheet that lay draped over her. Where the hell were her clothes? All she had on were a flimsy pair of knickers and bra. Ones that she’d specifically worn for her sexual adventure.
“How are you feeling?”
Her head shot back up and she winced; a shooting pain slammed over her temple. Jess shivered at the deep timbre of a male voice. It sounded sexy as hell, and then saw him.
Her words tumbled out. “Oh my God, I’m dead, this has to be heaven.” He was an angel; a huge, tawny-haired Gabriel, decided Jess.
A slither of a grin tugged at his lips. “I’m pleased to say you’re very much alive, and in my bed.”
Jess liked that idea, and she wondered who he was. Never in her life had she seen anyone with so much muscle, hell, so much of everything; he was a veritable giant of a man. Each sweep of her horny eyes flicked over hard planes and bulging biceps, he loomed over her. She glanced down at his crotch, what she’d give for an inch or two.
Suddenly, she remembered the fact she was all but naked.
“Who undressed me? Your wife?” Please God, don’t let his answer be yes.
A small, sinful smile played around his mouth.
God, you’ve got sexy lips.
Jess tried to keep her rampant hormones under control. Why the hell was sex with this man the only thing on her mind?
His golden gaze burned over her. “No, I’m not married.”
“Your girlfriend then?” Come on, open up, you cagey bastard.
“I don’t have one.” He sat on the edge of the bed and gave a sinfully wicked wink. “I stripped you.”
Shit, Jess was so relieved she’d put her best underwear on and remembered her mother’s advice. Always make sure you have decent panties on in case you’re in an accident. For once, Doreen was right. Then, suddenly, recalled the horror and the car chase, how she’d lost control, the car whirling like a cartwheel, yet her life hadn’t flashed before her. Yeah, Jess, you need to live one first, she chastised herself.
A shudder trembled over her. “I remember my car spinning and then—”
“You’re lucky to be alive, and more so in one piece.” Rune continued to study her. “I pulled you out of the wreck.”
“Thanks, good job you were close by; anyway, how is Betsy?”
Rune frowned. “What, another woman was with you?”
“No, that’s her name, my car.” She tried to drag her heated thoughts from him, but fuck, he was awesome.
Rune raised a feathered brow. “You name your car?”
“Yeah, so, doesn’t everyone?” Her sceptical glance grazed over him. “Okay, maybe not,” she had to admit at his bemused expression.
§§§
Rune discovered he wanted this woman with a desperate need. His cock lurched and his heart hammered. Never before had be experienced such an intense reaction to a female. Especially a mortal. One that was off limits, due to his size.
A lot could be said of a large cock, yet there was plenty to negate it.
He’d carried her unconscious body and laid her on his bed; his excuse to divest her clothes was to check for extra wounds. Bullshit, his monitoring of her body was personal. And when he saw it, he’d breathed in a shaky sigh.
It was his dream, a delight of dipping curves and big hips, they swept out wide. He’d concentrated his attention on her tits, huge and suckable. Her nipples had teased out from the bra confining them. Sweet, dark popsicles tempted him beneath the red lace, and she had the hour glass figure that he adored.
He liked her rippling hair, long and multi-coloured, but it was her body, the entire length that called to him. His cock strained against his jeans. A smidgeon of a smile teased his lips at her admission, naming a car. It had to be a girly thing.
“Betsy is a write off.” He didn’t mince his words, gave it to her direct. Rune was amazed to discover a glaze of tears tipple over her eyes. “I rang the scrap-yard to collect it.”
“Oh God, Kitty will be devastated. Betsy belonged to her before passing over to me.” She swiped a hand over her face.
Rune decided that Kitty should get a fucking life.
“Don’t you think she’d be more relieved that you’re unharmed, as in safe?”
She snorted with anger. “Of course she would, what sort of best friend do you think she is?”
“I don’t know, neither do I care.” He pondered her. Rune had rummaged through her bag and discovered she was a visitor to Caprice, one that required a Dom. He debated for the briefest time on giving her the choice. And then, took it away from her. Because this woman sent his every randy particle into meltdown.
He craved her with an incessant urge and, for the first time ever, decided he would make love to a human.
Because something drove him on, he didn’t know what it was. But one way or the other, she would be taking him, even if not fully, somehow he’d find a way. Hell, he should do, he was a master of technique, it was something he’d never cared enough about to try before. Rune hadn’t been interested, until now.
§§§
Jess tried to keep her hand from her fanny and, instead, squeezed her thighs tight because it oozed with need. At every soul-filled thought of his touch, both mentally and physically, a quiver raced across her skin. She tried to ignore the fact he’d stripped her, yet somewhere she wondered what he thought of her body. She wasn’t vain and knew her body wasn’t bad, okay she amended; maybe she’d prefer smaller hips, but hell, there you go —
A shiver scrambled over her, she hoped he liked what he’d seen. Then bit back a moan, what difference did it make? She was on her way for a weekend of fucking from her Dom, not to attack her benefactor. Then wondered how she was going to get to Caprice, all but cringing at the cost of paying out for a taxi.
“Why did you take my clothes off?” She wanted to ask his opinion but kept silent. No man had seen her body before; the thought that this perfect specimen had sent a shard of excitement through her.
“To check there weren’t any more injuries.” He hadn’t moved from the bed, his weight caused the mattress to sag to the side.
“And?” She knew damn well there weren’t any bones broken. Apart from the ache in her head, she felt fine; in fact her hangover had been worse. A lot worse.
“You’re okay.”
“You completed a, well you know, a hands on inspection?” Jess couldn’t believe her cheek, or the desire that raced along with a deep need.
“Yes, I touched every inch of your skin.” Rune sent her a sexy wink.
Jess stopped breathing, that one action sent her fanny into overdrive. A wicked devil perched on her shoulder. “But I was unconscious; you wouldn’t have gained a response.”
Rune gripped the sheet and slowly peeled it back. “Then I’d better check you out again.” His attention was rapt, the intent obvious.
Jess couldn’t believe she was lying all but naked before a stranger. One whose hands moved with a possessive power over her skin. Briefly, she snapped her eyes closed, and then flicked them open.
She studied him; his jaw chiselled, a shadow dusted across it. His strange coloured eyes almost hypnotic, they drew her in. She couldn’t move, transfixed by his golden depths. His fingertips touched her; they filtered butterfly soft across her collarbone in one long delicious crawl.
She shuddered at the dark intensity on his face.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Why was she allowing his hands to prowl over her body? Hell, she reminded herself she’d been the one to ask him. And bit down a screech when his palm settled on the flat of her stomach. Her traitorous fanny ached, her sex dampened her panties.
She had her answer.
§§§
Rune took pleasure in stroking his hands over her body. Her skin was soft and satiny beneath his touch. His heated gaze dropped to the vee between her thighs, at the curly pubes clearly visible through the red crotch of her knickers. He had debated taking them off but knew his limitations and left her underwear on.
He didn’t miss how her body trembled or how her back arched when he drizzled his fingers across her abdomen. His hands shimmied down to her leg, and lifting it, he slid them along her thigh. Again, his attention was drawn to her sweet fanny. His cock rose hard, a wholesome ridge raised beneath the denim of his jeans.
§§§
Jess’s heart did a rumba, thumping into her chest the rhythmic pumping grew louder. It slammed with the ferocity of a jack hammer. Her blood fired and singed through her body on a red hot, molten wave. Christ, she wanted this man, he was an addiction, truly an alpha male.
Yet the hard planes on his face revealed nothing, only his beautiful eyes showed any emotion, glinting with a melee of golden shards.
In silence, he continued his tortuous inspection. Jess wished he’d stop, she couldn’t stand it anymore. Another second and she’d be jumping on him. All thoughts of murdering vampires, car chases, and crashes ceased.
All that remained was the alluring male before her that exuded a raw sexual excitement.
She knew she had to do something, break the spell he bound her with. Jess cleared her throat and attempted to speak. “I, er, I think that’s enough, I’m pretty sure I’m not hurt.”
He released her leg, drop
ping it gently onto the bed. “If you say so.”
Shit, he was a cold bastard. Did he have to agree with her? Not one single hot, out-of-control emotion showed.
“Where are my clothes?”
“Why?” He asked, not moving off the bed.
“I have to leave.” Heck, he was hard work.
“There’s no need, Jessalyn, you’ve arrived at your destination.”
Her eyes flickered, startled. “How do you know my name?” A flurry of nerves shadowed her face. Was he one of them? Had he been driving the car? Suddenly, a wave of fear crashed over her. She’d let her libido and his good looks sway common sense.
Rune indicated to her bag. “I checked that out.”
She channelled her imagination. “Oh.” A flush darkened her face because he would have spotted the invite for a wicked fucking. She bet he thought her desperate. A blast of anger blew through her. “Just what right did you have snooping through my things?”
“If your injury was more than a bump on the head, I needed to know who to contact.”
That had her. Bastard. Then his words came back. “What do you mean, I’m at my destination?”
“Club Caprice. I’m Rune Masters, the owner.” He gave a slight nod of his head. “Pleased to meet you, Jessalyn.”
Oh my fucking God. I’ve just died and gone to heaven.
Chapter Four
Jess’s mouth dropped open. Shock whipped across her face, Kitty was so right. He was drop dead gorgeous. Yet her description didn’t come close to the man.
“Lucky I came along when I did.” He rose and crossed the room to tug at the olive brocade curtains.
Jess hungered after him, at his sexy hip rolling stride. Shit, he could get arrested for that walk. Each predatory step infused with seduction; it teased, tempted, and called to her. And, oh boy, she had a clit that needed satisfying, and she was staring at the man to do it.
Rune turned and studied her. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Shit, that was a dampener, her sexual thoughts nosedived. “I crashed my car?” Her words dripped with sarcasm. He’d rescued her and had to ask that?
