God save her from her own idiocy.
“Tania?”
“What?”
“It’s okay to be afraid, you know.”
“Easy for you to say.” Back to staring at the fire, she whispered, “You’re used to being attacked by dragons.”
“Honey, look at me.”
Feeling foolish, she shook her head. “I can’t.”
He stayed silent, waiting her out. She lasted all of five seconds before she cracked.
“God, you don’t understand.” And oh wow. She sounded awful, the vocal equivalent of a train wreck. “If I look at you, I’ll fall apart. And I can’t do that...I just can’t.”
“Why not?” He shifted on the couch, moving toward her inch by slow inch.
“I’ve always prided myself on being the strong one, you know? I always worry. I can’t help that. Worrying, it’s sort of...well, written in my DNA or something, but I never freak out. I’m the one who always fixes everything, but I can’t fix this, so...” Her breath hitched as she paused, struggling to keep it together. She needed to prove—to herself and him—she was more than just a pretty face. She was the strong one. The strong one, gosh darn it! But as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, she broke and curled inward, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Right now, I’m just...I don’t know...pathetic or something.”
“You are not.” The edge in his voice made her look up. He captured her gaze, his so fierce she blinked. “You’re nowhere near pathetic. What you are is exhausted. You need sleep and time to process, that’s all. It’ll all look better tomorrow.”
Better? Was he nuts? No way would twelve hours of pillow time make it better. Not with a bunch of dragons running around, trying to kill her. But arguing the point wouldn’t get her anywhere. Amassing more information, however, might.
Unlocking her muscles, Tania swiveled in her corner. Mac mirrored her movement, angling his body toward her. The couch arm pressing into her back, she settled sideways, chin resting on her bent knees and feet next to his thigh. Cool air rushed over her already cold toes. She hurried to cover them back up. He was faster. Reaching out, he cupped her heel in the palm of his hand.
His touch seared her. She got zapped by static electricity, and heat unfurled, curling up the back of her calf. Surprise made her flinch. The gentleness in his hands made her squirm.
She tugged, fighting his grip. “What are you doing?”
“Easy.” Straightening her leg, he pulled her foot into his lap. “You’re wound too tight. I can help if you let me. Let me, Tania.”
His baritone washed over her in a coaxing wave. Oh so nice. He always sounded so darned amazing. And as he murmured her name again, tempting her to go along, Tania stared at him, trying to guess his game. She knew he had one. Guys like him always did. She recognized the breed, a charming player who knew his way around women. So, uh-huh. No doubt about it. The whole let-me-help-you thing meant he was up to something. Too bad she didn’t have the mental energy to unravel the mystery.
Her brain was gone, along with the capacity to argue. And the ache in her head? Almost unbearable now, thumping against her temples, making her teeth hurt. So like it or not, the Sherlock Holmes half of her personality wasn’t making an appearance tonight.
She made a halfhearted attempt anyway. “How?”
“You’re feet are like ice.” Caressing the top of her foot, he tweaked the tip of her baby toe. “You need them warmed.”
“So get me a pair of socks,” she said, just to be contrary. “Problem solved.”
“Don’t have any.” The devil in his eyes, his mouth curved up at the corners. “Besides, this is more fun.”
“For whom?”
“Me.”
“Figures,” she said, feigning anger she didn’t feel. And no wonder. Try as she might, she couldn’t conjure up an ounce of pissed off. Then again, being upset with a man while he gave you a foot rub was a practical impossibility. She resisted anyway, putting on a good show. “It’s all about you, after all.”
He ignored the token resistance—thank you, God—and one-upped her, circling his thumbs in just...the right...spot. Tania bit down on a groan. He waited until she shuddered, then pressed in, rubbed deeper, nearly sending her into orbit. She sucked in a quick breath. Holy jeez. He knew what he was doing. She needed to add wicked-good massage to her running tally. The one entitled...Things at Which Mac Excelled and—
Oh boy. That felt unbelievably good.
Usually she couldn’t stand to have her feet touched. Most women loved pedicures. Tania wasn’t one of them. Her soles were too sensitive for that. Oh, she’d tried more than once, wanting well-groomed heels and pretty toenail polish, but it was always a no go. She couldn’t sit still in the chair long enough for the esthetician to finish. She always spazzed out, then bowed out in a hurry.
But Mac’s hands? Heaven on earth.
“Holy moly,” she gasped, squirming as he stroked between her toes.
He chuckled. “Found the spot, didn’t I?”
“Oh, be quiet,” she muttered, unwilling to wave the white flag of surrender. She relaxed instead and, melting into the sofa, rested her cheek against the cushion. “Oh my...jeez. Do that again.”
“Right here?” He rotated his thumb. Swallowing a moan of delight, she twisted in her seat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Under his spell now, she closed her eyes and slipped her unoccupied foot into his lap. As he continued to rub, heat rose, swelling into a blinding wave of oh-baby-please-don’t-stop. The prickling sensation came next, rushing over her skin, drawing her deep only to keep her afloat on a bliss-filled swirl. And there she bobbed, cresting on gentle waves, lulled into total relaxation. God, he was warm. So very good with his hands.
He switched feet. Tania barely noticed. Immersed in pleasure, she snuggled into the couch, becoming boneless against the leather cushions. Time spun away, stretching out as fire crackled and the shadows on the wall grew longer. Seduced by the gentle rhythm of each stroke, she listened to the wall clock walk around its face, each ticktock calling softly in the quiet.
After a while—minutes...hours...she didn’t know—the rubbing stopped. Battling through the mind-fog, Tania forced her eyes open. His gaze on her face, Mac studied her a moment, then shifted toward her. Setting her legs over his thighs, he slid his arm along the back of the sofa and settled in, one hand still warm on her toes, the other next to her head. When she didn’t shy, he took it a step further and picked up a lock of her hair.
He twirled the dark strand around his fingertips. “You have beautiful hair.”
So relaxed she couldn’t move, she whispered, “My sister’s is prettier.”
“Impossible.”
Tania smiled. Not a lot. A simple lift of her lips, but that was all the encouragement he needed. His fingers went searching, delving deep to stroke her scalp. “Hmm...that feels good.”
“The bed’s made.” Sliding on the sofa cushions, he moved closer. His warmth curled around her as she breathed him in. Oh, he smelled good, like exotic spices and untold pleasures...exactly as a man should. “Let me tuck you in, mo chroí.”
“Tell me about Myst first.” Fighting a yawn, she asked, “Is she really all right? You said she’d be here.”
“I know.” His thumb brushed over her temple. With a sigh, she turned in to his gentle touch, asking for more. He gave it to her. Releasing her foot, he brought his other hand into play. As he cupped her nape, the current-like sensation increased, then swirled down her spine in a heated rush. “But the plan changed on the bridge. I brought you here instead of Black Diamond.”
Her eyes drifted closed. Tania forced them open again. Shimmering aquamarine eyes met hers. Funny, but the glow didn’t bother her that much anymore. Somehow it seemed normal now...part of the man, instead of a monster.
“The bridge,” she said, trying to make her brain work. It was skipping all over the place, playing pinball inside her skull, scattering important puzzle pieces. Gather
ing up as many as she could, Tania struggled to connect each tidbit. “When the red dragon attacked?”
“Yeah. He’s a really bad guy. Leader of a rogue faction of Dragonkind.”
“Dragonkind?” She frowned. Dragonkind. That sounded weird, like a misnomer, not a real thing. “What are you? A different species or something?”
“Pretty much.” He kept stroking her, his fingers working their magic. He skimmed the side of her throat. Moving down, he found the space between her neck and shoulder. He massaged with gentle hands, working out the kinks, and she purred. “I couldn’t let him take you, Tania. He would’ve hurt you, and I...shit. No way I’m letting that happen.”
Alarm pierced through some of the pleasant haze. “Did he hurt Myst?”
He shook his head. “Bastian got to her first.”
“Who’s that?”
“Commander of the Nightfuries...the pack I belong to now.”
“Explain.”
He did, and as she listened to him talk—about Razorbacks and Nightfuries, about dragon history, the ongoing war, and his transition into Dragonkind society—Tania didn’t know what to say. Or how to react. And as words like the Meridian and energy-feedings got thrown around, Tania stared at him. It was all so bizarre. Not to mention confusing. A whole species of dragon-guys were flying around, blowing things up, and no one—at least as far as she could tell—knew a darned thing about it.
“So...you’re not human.”
“Half. My mother was human.”
“But not your father.”
“I was sired by a Dragonkind male,” he said, watching her closely, no doubt waiting for her to freak out. But like a consummate poker player, he’d played his cards right, ensuring she was too relaxed to indulge in a mental meltdown. Now, instead of fear, curiosity took hold, making her want to know more. “Like all of my race, I can shift form at will.”
Well, that was...kind of cool, actually. Then again, what did she know? The train named Insanity had pulled out of her station hours ago. “And at the precinct? When you hauled me in for questioning, did you know—”
“No.” With a smooth move, he slid his arms around her and lifted. Before she could protest, he settled her in his lap, bum against his thighs, cheek nestled against his strong shoulder. Wrapping her up, he cuddled her close, using his warmth and scent to seduce her. And wow. She really should say something. Tell him to back off, put her down...something. But honestly? It felt too good to worry about. His hands were at it again, rubbing her back, caressing her calf. “Until a month ago, I didn’t know dragons existed either. I thought I was one hundred percent human until I woke up in dragon form.”
“Yikes.” Another soothing stroke down her spine. She blinked, struggling to stay connected to the conversation. “Talk about a nasty wake-up call.”
“You think?”
Tania smiled, then frowned. Something odd was happening. She felt the swaying pull—the drain and draw—as though she was linked in, aware of...everything. His heartbeat. The strength of his body and the power of his energy. The thoughts meandering through his head. Strange, but oh so easy. Her connection to him felt good...right in the best possible way. And as the current grew stronger, sensation crested, tugging her toward sleep’s slippery slope.
Her head lolled on Mac’s shoulder. Huh. She was sitting sideways in his lap. When had that happened? “What are you doing to me?”
His mouth brushed her ear. “Helping you fall asleep.”
“Don’t want to,” she said, her words slurring.
“Yes, you do, honey.”
One hand cupping her nape, he cuddled her close while the other flicked beneath the hem of her sweatshirt. His skin touched hers. She hummed, arching beneath the press of his hand. Fingers spread wide, his palm settled against the small of her back. He nuzzled her hair, then drifted down to kiss her temple. Surrounded by his scent, safe in his arms, something unlocked deep inside her. She heard the click. Felt the rush as the vortex picked her up, sweeping her along in its powerful riptide.
“Listen to my voice, Tania, and let go. Drift, honey. Nothing to do but drift.”
And just like that, she did as he asked, let oblivion take her, and sank beneath slumber’s warm waves. As she went under Tania thought...tomorrow. Tomorrow was a new day. Soon enough to gain some perspective and figure her way out of the mess.
Out of a world where red dragons were trying to kill her.
Chapter Fifteen
Ass-planted on the couch with Tania asleep in his lap, Mac wondered what the hell he was doing. And when he’d lost his mind. Gone AWOL. Whatever. ’Cause, shit. He shouldn’t be hanging out in the near dark. Or listening to the sound of ocean waves roll into the shoreline beyond his cabin while he tortured himself with the warm, scented weight of the woman in his arms.
Motherfuck, he was deranged. A real candidate for the psych ward and electroshock therapy. Maybe if he got zapped a couple of times, he’d do the right thing. Pick her up. Walk into his bedroom. And put Tania to bed.
Alone.
But oh, not him. The longer he held her, the more he wanted to.
Mac sighed, mourning the loss of his moral compass, and cuddled her closer. A moment later, he compounded the idiocy by stroking her hair. He couldn’t help it. He was too far gone...in Sapsville with no hope of backtracking. So he caressed her instead, loving how the dark strands clung to his fingers, each length an enticement he couldn’t ignore. Jesus, she was beautiful. Soft and strong at the same time. And in the fading moments of the coming dawn, she was too much for him to resist. Everything he’d always wanted but knew he could never have and certainly didn’t deserve.
He must be a masochist or something. An idiot without the sense God gave most people.
Clearly he didn’t own any at all. If he possessed half a brain he’d tuck her into bed and then do what he did best. Get gone. Disappear for a while. Put as much distance between them as he could before he did something stupid.
Like what? Oh, he could think of a few things. Or twenty. All involved getting naked. Which...yeah. Was not going to happen.
He’d already overstepped his bounds and taken without her consent. Had tapped into the Meridian while putting her to sleep and fed on her energy. And oh man, good didn’t begin to describe her. Frickin’ amazing fit better. Perfection worked too. Mac bit down on a groan, combating the urge to taste her again. Drink so deep satiation took hold.
Which made him a first-rate jackass.
He should’ve explained first. Should’ve told her what he took each time he touched her, instead of skirting the issue and telling half-truths. She deserved to know how he staved off hunger and stayed healthy. About the power of the Meridian, her value as a high-energy female, and what that meant for her. For him.
For them going forward.
To indulge or not to indulge, that was the question. Yes, he wanted her. No question about that, but was seducing her—keeping her around for a while—the smart thing to do? The right thing to do? His conscience said no. Tania deserved the best, a better male than him. One willing to go all in and commit to her without hesitation. One ready to offer her his love. Too bad he didn’t know how to give her that. Jesus. He hadn’t seen the better side of himself in years. He excelled at the sex stuff, not intimacy. Didn’t know the first thing about loving a woman, never mind showing how much she meant to him.
His heart sank like a stone in the center of his chest. He was an asshole, cuddling her close while he yearned for more. Everything. Her love. Her passion. The same kind of commitment Bastian and Rikar had found. And yet with his next breath, he questioned whether he wanted to love her in return.
Fan-fucking-tastic. His commitment-phobe tendencies were out in full force, messing with his ability to think straight.
Mac shook his head, then gave in and kissed the top of her head. Not that Tania noticed. Curled around him, she’d fallen into a deep sleep, each breath long and even. He gave her a gentle squeeze, enjoying her heat,
reveling in her trust, wanting to get horizontal with her even though he knew it was a bad idea.
Making love to her wasn’t in the cards. At least not tonight. Tomorrow, however? Man, he hoped so, but that would be up to her. Given his uncertainty, he refused to push her. But if she wanted him and initiated sex? Call him a first-class bastard, but she wouldn’t have to ask him twice.
With a sigh, Tania shifted against him, nestling her bottom into his groin. He bit down on a groan. Okay. Time to go. Self-torture proclivities aside, he couldn’t hold her much longer without touching her. In serious ways.
Sliding his forearm beneath her knees, Mac pushed to his feet with her in his arms. She grumbled in her sleep. He murmured an apology and, keeping each stride smooth, carried her across the living room. Desire hummed, streaking through him as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. Mac shoved his arousal aside. Now was not the time or...well, okay. It was the place. His bedroom, after all, lay just ahead, but no way he would do that to her. Or himself. When he made love to her, she’d be on board, 100 percent into the sexual play, giving as good as he gave her.
With a mental flick, he opened the double pocket doors to the left of the fireplace and crossed the threshold. Pushed against the far wall, his bed took up most of the room, usually a king-size oasis for him. Tonight, it would be hers. The place he would tuck her beneath feather down and leave her to dream.
After which he’d haul ass. Get as far away from her as possible.
It was either that or suffer the consequences when she woke up with him wrapped around her. Not exactly the best way to start a new relationship. He was already in clusterfuck county as it was, considering the problem with his memory bank. The lapse bothered Mac more than it should. The memory loss wasn’t his fault, after all. His first shift into dragon form had kicked his ass, obliterating all but bits and pieces of Tania’s role in it. But that didn’t mean she would understand. She’d no doubt rip him a new one when she discovered he couldn’t remember making love to her.
Fury of Seduction Page 17
