One Bite with a Stranger

by Christine Warren

  Well, that could take a little getting used to.

  It wasn’t the thought of monogamy that gave Dmitri pause; he’d always preferred to indulge in one relationship at a time, to concentrate on one partner until it came time to move on. He enjoyed the special kind of intimacy bred from familiarity, knowing how to touch, when to savor. And women, he had found, tended to show their appreciation to a devoted lover in ingenious and enthusiastic ways, so who was he to complain?

  With a lover like Regina, how could he complain? She welcomed him like springtime. Every time he touched her, he could feel her heart race, hear her breath catch, see the way she leaned toward him like a flower toward the sun. Everything he asked for, she gave. She flowed beneath his hands like a river of honey, warm and sweet, and clasped him to her as if she feared he would leave her. As if he would ever want to try.

  When he had first touched her mind in the bar, he had wondered if he had wished her into being. It seemed rare enough to find a woman so lush and beautiful in this time of females shaped like quarterstaffs; but to see her deepest desires and know they melded so perfectly with his—well, that made him wonder why the gods had decided to smile upon him now, after all these years.

  Dmitri was a hard man, a warrior, dominant not just by nature but because of the life he had lived. He had grown to manhood in a time when women could be plundered like villages, and though he had never taken an unwilling female to his bed, he had a medieval warlord’s view of their sex. Women were smaller, weaker, softer; they were made to serve a man at table and in bed, and in exchange, men assumed the duty to protect and provide for them.

  Not to say he expected Regina to follow ten steps behind him, or to attend him at his bath—though the idea had possibilities Dmitri thought she might enjoy exploring—he had lived long enough to mellow with time. Part of the reason why Dmitri had lived so long was that he had learned to adapt to the world that changed constantly around him. He knew modern women wanted to be seen as individuals with the same rights and abilities as men, and he had no trouble acknowledging that. It pleased him greatly, though, to know that while Regina could stand on her own two feet everywhere else, she craved for him to bend her over his knee in their bedchamber. He looked on that truth as the gift it was and knew his responsibility was never to abuse the power she so willingly gave him.

  Dmitri would protect his mate with his life.

  Which meant that when Graham located Gregory Martin, Dmitri would require more from the fledgling than the name of his maker. Dmitri intended to make that bastard pay for every ounce of fear or pain he had ever caused Regina. For every hurt Martin had caused her, Dmitri intended to inflict one in trade, but the scars he left would be visible to all with eyes to see the ruin Dmitri left behind him.

  Jaw clenching, Dmitri pushed the thought away and turned his attention back to Regina. The hour was still early and he had matters he wished to discuss with his young and rebellious mate. Matters such as what she had meant by accepting a date with another man after Dmitri had claimed her as his own. Once she awoke, he would put the question to her and see how prettily she could be convinced to tender her apologies.

  Reggie woke slowly from a dream in which her former fiancé had re-proposed to her, turned into a Welsh corgi, and explained to her that instead of rings, they would be exchanging flea collars during their wedding ceremony.

  Talk about Freudian symbolism.

  Eyes still closed, Reggie yawned and stretched, the movement aborted when she felt her clothes tighten around her.

  Why on earth was she still dressed if she’d gone to bed?

  “I had begun to wonder how long you would sleep.”

  The deep familiar voice finished Reggie’s waking-up process in a hurry. Forcing her eyes open, she bolted upright to find Dmitri perched on the side of her bed, watching her with those fathomless black eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. A thought occurred to her, and she frowned. “What am I doing here? I thought we were supposed to meet at Captain Jack’s.”

  Dmitri didn’t answer, but within the space of a few seconds, he no longer had to. Memory came flooding back to her, jumbled and confused, but just barely recognizable. She recalled dressing up, leaving early to meet with Greg, talking in the bar…then things started to get a little hazy.

  She thought there had been noise—a lot of noise. A band. People talking and laughing. Someone screaming. She remembered fear, low and tight in her belly, and a smell, like rotted meat and wet pavement. None of it made any sense.

  “What happened?” she asked, pushing her tumbled hair back and frowning at Dmitri. “I remember going to the bar. I went early, even, but I don’t remember when you arrived, and I don’t remember how I got home. Did you bring me?”

  “I did,” Dmitri acknowledged. “Would you like me to remind you? Or would you prefer to hear the story about what I found when I arrived at the place where we had arranged our meeting? How I found my date in the arms of another man? A man who used to be her lover.”

  His black eyes watched her intently, and Reggie had to work hard not to squirm under his gaze. Honestly, when she’d agreed to meet with Greg before her scheduled date with Misha, she hadn’t expected her ex to try so hard to win her back. Sure, she’d been looking forward to his apologies, maybe even a little groveling on his part, but she’d fully intended to shoot him down, so she didn’t see what right Misha had to get upset with her.

  At least, that’s the reasoning she tried to hang on to. Beneath it, though, a secret part of her acknowledged that she’d known how he would react to the idea. In fact, that part of her had pushed her into the meeting for precisely that reason. It had wanted to test him, to see how seriously he viewed the chemistry between them. Had it been a one-night-stand that he wanted to turn into a twofer? Or had it meant something to him? Something like the beginning of a relationship?

  It looked like she’d definitely sparked a reaction.

  She tried for a dismissive tone. “It wasn’t like that at all. You’re making it sound like I was trying to hook up with someone else. Greg asked if he could talk to me for a few minutes before our date, and I agreed. I made it very clear that I was meeting with someone else at eight though. It’s not like I offered him a quickie before you got there.”

  Judging by the flare of anger in Misha’s dark eyes, she wondered if he was about to demonstrate the literal meaning of the word “backfire” for her.

  “I never accused you of such, katyonak, but you can rest assured that if I thought that to be your plan, we would be having this discussion with you bent over my knee and your skirts up around your waist. I will not tolerate infidelity in my woman.”

  “‘Your woman’?” Reggie repeated, blinking in astonishment. “Where the heck did that title come from? We had one date, Misha, and yeah, it involved some pretty entertaining sex, but where I come from, one good boink does not a relationship make.”

  Dmitri’s expression went from arrogant to amused in the space of a heartbeat. “‘Boink’? What an…ah…original term. But I am not sure I caught the proper meaning. Perhaps you could demonstrate for me.”

  He leaned forward and Reggie scrambled off the bed, holding out both hands as if to ward him off. Right, like that would work.

  “Don’t try to distract me,” she warned. “You know exactly what I meant, and I’m not going to let you derail this discussion with sex. Clearly, there are a few things here that we need to talk about. For instance, exactly when did I become ‘your woman,’ huh?”

  Dmitri shrugged. “It was true from the first moment I saw you. As for when I realized it, I do not see that it matters. The timing cannot change the reality.”

  “It matters to me, bucko.” Reggie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I don’t recall agreeing to anything long term, and I think it would have stuck with me if you’d asked me to go steady!”

  The amused look returned, accompanied by a subtle quirk of his lips. “You would
have preferred if I had asked you to wear my class ring? Or perhaps given you my athletic jacket?”

  She looked at him incredulously. “Where do you think we are? Rydell High in 1957? I would have preferred if we had maybe had a conversation. You know, gotten to know more about each other than how to get each other off.”

  “I would prefer that you not speak so crudely, Regina,” Dmitri frowned. “It ill becomes you. In addition, I find your argument a poor one. I think we know much about each other, certainly enough to recognize that you belong to me.”

  Sweet Jesus, the man was thicker than molasses. Reggie prayed for patience.

  “First of all,” she began, struggling to keep her voice even and reasonable, “I think we exchanged maybe two dozen words before the clothes started to come off; and second, we’ve only known each other for maybe eight hours, total. That’s hardly a solid basis for a relationship. Also”—she held up a hand when he would have interrupted—“any relationship that I’m going to agree to be in is going to involve mutual belonging. I’m not a possession, and I won’t be referred to as one.”

  Dmitri seemed to relax at that, offering her a regal nod. “Forgive me, dushka. I did not intend to imply that I viewed you as anything less than an intelligent woman. I am afraid that my speech can seem a bit…old-fashioned at times. Please know that it is not a reflection of my feelings.”

  Something inside Reggie relaxed, and she let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Good. I enjoyed what we did together, Misha”—she blushed—“but I don’t want you to think that I plan to obey your every whim outside of the bedroom. The fact that I like, well, that I like you to be dominant in bed—that doesn’t mean I’ll put up with being treated like some kind of slave. Sex games are one thing, but real life is something else entirely.”

  “I understand, milka.” He stood and reached out, pulling her gently into his arms. “I can assure you that I have no desire to turn you into a mindless toy. I enjoy your fire far too much for that.”

  “Good.”

  Reggie uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around him. Her head fit so perfectly against his chest that she couldn’t resist laying it there. She felt him rest his chin on top of her head and enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by him. He was such a large man that standing beside him made her feel small and delicate and protected.

  It made her feel cherished.

  He let the silence stretch out for a few minutes before his deep voice rumbled in her ear. “I still want to hear it, dushka.”

  “Hear what?”

  “I want to hear you acknowledge that you are mine.” He pulled back just far enough to fix her with a stern gaze.

  Reggie returned it with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. “I think I just finished telling you that I’m not going to get involved with anyone who sees me as a possession.”

  “And I do not. But that does not mean I do not wish to possess you.”

  “What if I want to possess you instead?”

  He flashed her a grin, warm and wicked and laced with something more that Reggie couldn’t quite define.

  “Dushka,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers. “You already do.”

  Chapter 13

  “Well, well, what have we here?”

  So wrapped up in the taste and feel of Regina in his arms, Dmitri hadn’t even heard anyone approach. As soon as the voice sounded, he spun to face the intruder, putting himself between his woman and any possible threat. When he saw who stood before him, he only relaxed a little.

  The interruption had come from Ava, a figure he’d seen much of when he sifted through his Regina’s thoughts. She stood in the doorway to Regina’s bedroom wearing a scarlet trenchcoat over a black cowl-neck sweater, with a look of pure poison in her dark, almond-shaped eyes.

  “Reggie, darling, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” Ava’s voice, low and melodic, and her expression, a sweet, warm smile, gave Reggie the creeps. Dmitri could read his lover’s unease in her mind and her body.

  “Ava, what the heck are you doing here?” Reggie demanded, stepping out from behind Dmitri to frown at her friend. He could feel her flush of embarrassment, as well as her confusion. “Is something the matter? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong, darling, I just stopped by to say hello.” Ava’s voice sounded smoother than silk and sharper than steel. “I met up with Corinne and Danice at Captain Jack’s a few minutes ago, and they mentioned that you’d been there with Greg, but that you disappeared without bothering to say goodbye. Since that didn’t sound like you, I became a little concerned and used my emergency key to check on you. I didn’t realize you’d have company.” She looked pointedly at Dmitri.

  So pointedly, in fact, that he felt tempted to check himself for stab wounds.

  Stool pigeons, he heard Reggie think just before she offered her friend a forced smile. “That was sweet, Av, but unnecessary.” Regina took his hand and made the introductions. “Ava, this is Dmitri Vidâme. Misha, this is my friend Ava Markham.”

  “A pleasure,” Dmitri murmured, taking Ava’s hand in his and bowing slightly over it. The dark-haired woman’s eyes narrowed at the gesture.

  “I’m sure it is,” she said, her tone dismissive. “It appears you’ve made quite an impression on our friend, considering you met her for the first time last night.”

  Dmitri’s mouth quirked. Even without reading her mind, he could sense the protectiveness that radiated off Ava’s slim frame. Reggie’s friend had cool, faintly exotic dark looks that radiated confidence, sex, and money. She stood at least five ten in her Italian heels, and he knew her black sheath dress would bear an exclusive designer label. Ava was the sort of woman Dmitri would have been attracted to in the past, strong and aggressive and passionate, but he had recently discovered a decided preference for soft, cuddly redheads with submissive streaks.

  “I am the one who was impressed, Ms. Markham. I am sure you realize your friend is a remarkable woman.”

  Reggie stepped forward as if to remind them of her presence.

  “And she has a brain cell or two to rub together, not to mention a tongue in her head,” she snapped, glaring at the two of them. “What is wrong with you people? I feel like I just stepped into the middle of an Olympic fencing match.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Reggie,” Ava said, pursing her lips and raising her chin. “I’m simply surprised to find you here, alone in your apartment, with a man you only met last night at a club you don’t usually frequent. It’s not like you to pick up strangers. You usually have better sense.”

  Dmitri stifled a chuckle. “I’ve found Regina has perfect sense. As well as many other…intriguing qualities.”

  Unable to resist, he settled his hand low and far back on Reggie’s hip and squeezed, just for the entertainment value of Ava’s reaction. She didn’t disappoint him.

  “She used to have perfect sense,” Ava bit out, her dark eyes frosting over while she glared at Dmitri’s hand. “But I’m seeing precious little of it at the moment.”

  Dmitri felt Regina stiffen under his hand.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Regina demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her friend.

  “It means there is something seriously wrong with you, Reg.” Ava matched her glare for glare.

  Dmitri could read the concern beneath the angry attack, but he didn’t think Regina cared about the motivation.

  “There is nothing wrong with me, Ava. And even if there were, it would be none of your business. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

  “Then prove it by not ditching an old boyfriend at a bar, ignoring your very concerned friends, and inviting some cretin into your apartment to paw you like you’re a piece of meat!”

  Dmitri hadn’t planned to come between the two women—he hadn’t lived this long by doing something so stupid—but neither would he stand by and watch Ava insult his Regina. He stiffened at her words and touched her
mind, looking for an entrance.

  “Dmitri is not pawing me, but even if he were, what business is that of yours?” Regina countered. “Maybe I like being pawed! Maybe I don’t care what you think about me or the men I date!”

  Man, Dmitri corrected, sending the thought firmly into Reggie’s mind, briefly dividing his attention between the two women. You date only one man, Regina. Me.

  He saw Regina roll her eyes, and he bit back a grin, turning his attention once more to Ava. She had a surprisingly strong mind with some impressive natural shielding. He probed quickly for a weak spot, but it didn’t take long for him to realize he couldn’t just slip quietly into her mind in the space of a few seconds. She required more force than that, which meant that his best strategy might be to retreat.

  Dmitri turned away from Ava and squeezed Regina’s hip gently. “Do not be so hard on your friend, dushka,” he murmured. “She seems to be concerned about you. I believe she means well.”

  “I don’t care what she meant, Misha. She has no business letting herself into my apartment and criticizing my taste in men just because she didn’t get to have a hand in choosing one for me. In fact, I really think it’s time she left.”

  Ava nearly screamed. “And I think you’re out of your mind! Listen to yourself, will you? You sound like the sort of empty-headed twit you’ve always hated. You’ve known this man for twenty-four hours and already you’re letting him control you as if you can’t think for yourself! What is your problem?”

  Regina ignored her friend and walked calmly toward the door without glancing back. Dmitri let Ava stalk after her, then followed at a safe distance. He could hear the argument continue, but he didn’t listen very carefully. He was too busy thinking about this latest problem and juggling it with the others he already had on his plate. An irate friend of his mate might not rank as highly as a rogue vampire making unauthorized fledglings and setting them loose on the city without training, but it definitely had the potential to cause him trouble of a more personal nature.