by Sarra Cannon
“Rabbit! You’re not who I expected.”
The silken, sexy voice sounded familiar. I rolled onto my back to stare at the source.
A set of widened, pale, blue eyes looked down at me. I sat up, the quick movement sent spasms down my back. The muscles quieted after I stayed still.
Rurik squatted next to me. He turned his charming smile on. “I’d happily accept your company instead.” He wore a blue muscle shirt that accentuated his eyes, and a pair of faded jeans.
Instead of who? The pang of jealousy that accompanied the thought amazed me. I scrabbled up to my feet. “I thought the bathhouse was closed.”
Fluidly he stood with me. “To the general populace it is. Those of us who are—” his grin grew, flashing fang “—daylight challenged, come here after-hours.”
Even dressed casually he was easy on the eyes. He reached to lay a bare touch to my forehead where I felt tender from knocking my head. “It’s an odd way to knock on the door. Most people use their knuckles.” He lifted my hand to exhibit the correct tools for the job.
My eyes narrowed. “I read somewhere, that’s how they knock here. So, when in Budapest, do as the Hungarian do.”
His startled laugh at my wiseass remark made him seem more human. He lowered his face, laughter still shining in his eyes. “I’ll remember that the next time I knock at your door.”
“Next time? I don’t remember you knocking last night.” The huskiness of my voice made it a whisper.
“No, I didn’t.” He stood so close I could smell the mild spice of his cologne. His face was almost too handsome to look at.
A thrill of anticipation ran through me right down to curl my toes.
“How did you find me, my little surprise?”
I placed a hand against his chest, reluctant to keep him from closing the gap. “I wasn’t looking for you.” No breaths or heartbeat moved against my hand. Only warmth radiated from beneath his shirt. He must have fed. “I’m sore from running last night. I wanted to soak in a hot bath.” His heart may not be beating but mine drummed.
“So you knocked to come in?”
I chuckled, feeling the heat of color rising to my cheeks. “Well ... I was, actually, banging my head in frustration. It didn’t occur to me to knock.”
He stepped forward to touch my frizzed out ponytail. His proximity caused me to step back against the door, closing it. “Scary hair.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Such frustration should not be left unfulfilled, especially if it will lead you to bang your pretty head.” He pulled me from the door and stepped in behind me.
A middle-aged, plump woman watched us from across the room. She wore her dark, gray streaked hair pulled back into a tight bun. She wasn’t much taller than me. The bulk under her dress gave me the impression she could wrestle me down and tie me into a pretzel without breaking a sweat.
He spoke Hungarian to her, then to me in English. “Pembe will bring you to the bathing room.”
“Rurik, I’ll come back in the morning. That way I can get a massage afterward.” I reached around him for the doorknob but it wouldn’t budge. He’d locked it.
I didn’t want to stay. Rurik stirred up desires I thought dead. It mixed with conflicted emotions from my job and lost loved ones only to make me miserable. For once, I needed to feel good. Not happy, I don’t remember happy, but tranquil, like at the church yesterday. That one of the walking dead could raise lust or more from me made me cringe.
It wasn’t a recipe for a relaxing night.
“Pembe is an excellent masseuse. Please, I see you’re sore and feel responsible for your pains. You have my protection, once again, while in this bathhouse.”
I’m such a sucker for a pair of pretty eyes. He batted his thick lashes at me and my resolve to leave crumbled. Good thing he wasn’t human, I’d probably throw myself at his feet. Oh yeah, I already did.
Pembe snapped her fingers at me then pointed at a hallway entrance. “Follow,” she ordered in a thick Hungarian accent.
I walked through the reception area and glanced back at Rurik. “Quick,” She snapped and made me jump.
His amused smile curled even more.
Pembe led me down a hall and handed me a canvas slip she pulled out of a basket. The changing area consisted of curtained off cubicles, each with a small cot for resting after the bath and massage.
I changed into the slip. It came down to my knees, one of the advantages of being short. I carried out my folded clothes but she took them from me, scolding as she placed them back in the cubicle. Maybe she thought the louder she spoke the better I’d understand.
She led me into a little slice of heaven.
Inside the main bathing area, green marble columns supported a low dome. It rose above an octagonal pool at the room’s center. Each step through the dimly lit roseate granite hall swallowed me deeper into a steamy fog. Cut into the dome overhead were small hexagons, plugged with blue, yellow, and red stained glass.
These people knew how to live. The grin spreading across my face made my split lip ache. Bet Colby and the boys weren’t having half the fun I planned on having.
The air cleared a little around us so I could see that we weren’t alone. Others soaked in the pool. The daylight-challenged kind of people, I assumed.
Pembe stood next to me. She waved to the pool. “Go?”
I needed to express to this Hungarian speaking, assertive woman there was no freaking way she could get me into a pool full of vampires.
I pointed to the pool. “Too many people.”
She shook her head, not understanding.
I placed two of my fingers by my own teeth like make shift fangs.
Her eyes widened before the room boomed with her laughter. She thumped me on the shoulder in good-natured way but nearly knocked me off my bare feet. Maybe she didn’t know. Then she either thought I tried to joke, or I needed to be placed in a crazy-house.
I glanced around looking for inspiration on how to explain what I wanted. My communication skills lay back in my suitcase, in the form of a Hungarian/English dictionary. We needed a translator. “Rurik?”
Pembe glanced at the pool then at me then raised an eyebrow.
“Rurik?” I repeated.
She shrugged and led me to a secluded sitting area.
I sat there alone in my canvas slip, disappointed in the turn of events. It never occurred to me there would be other vampires here. Rurik offered me protection but how did that work when he wasn’t around? Either way, I didn’t come to socialize. It would be in everyone’s interest if I just hunted down my clothes and escaped.
Pembe peaked around the corner and ordered, “Follow.”
She brought me further into the bathhouse and led me to a room with individual marble tubs. Hot, steaming water brimmed to their edges and a drain in the middle of the floor took care of the excess water if it should spill. Warm mist filled the air. We were alone.
This was what I wanted.
I smiled gratefully. “Koszonom.” Thank you.
She nodded and gestured for me to use the center tub. “Towel.” Then she left.
I hoped she meant to go get me one. All this wonderful, steam filled luxury caused my muscles to cramp in anticipation. I couldn’t wait to dive in. The canvas slip pooled at my feet then I hurried to the hot water. I eased into the tub and experienced what a lobster must feel when sliding into a pot.
Once immersed in the tingling water I stared at the colored glass set into the ceiling until I entered a blissful trance.
The door opened behind me. Someone passed me to place towels on a table by the tubs. I turned to thank Pembe.
Rurik stood there instead with a stack of fluffy white towels folded nicely in his arms, wearing nothing but a smile. Strong, muscular arms set the towels down. A lean, long waist met the rise of his firm ass.
I shut my mouth before I caught flies and checked for drool.
He glanced a shy look over his shoulder b
ut the shy was pretend. “May I join you?”
Chapter 8
Rurik’s voice dripped with enticement. Delight twinkled in his eyes as I continued to watch, forgetting to answer. He gave a purely masculine laugh that conveyed his pleasure more than words ever could.
He strode to the tub next to mine and stepped in. Water sloshed over the edges as he made himself comfortable. He rested his head back against the edge and he gazed across at me. The heat of his stare reminded me of my own nudity. There was only a sheet of water covering me and I ducked down further, thankful it was deep.
“Ask me a question, Rabbit.” His voice caressed me like the steam, warm and moist.
“Why?”
“I make you uncomfortable. Ask me a question, it’ll make conversation easier.”
I didn’t need to think too hard on what I wanted to ask—it tugged at my mind all day. “Why did you drug me?” It’s one of the things that kept me from believing his innocence—that horrid act and giving me to Dragos.
He made a rude noise. “You’re so subtle.” His grin softened his sarcasm. “I am trying to lighten the mood, and instead you make me uncomfortable, too.” Rurik’s quiet chuckle echoed off the tiled walls. His broad shoulders hunched slightly and his chin dipped to his chest as he avoided my direct look. “It is regrettable but I had no choice in the matter. Dragos is traditional in his rule. His people insisted on a gift and I am not powerful enough to deny him anything. When he commented about your presence at the hot springs I knew you’d be perfect. I noticed you myself a few nights ago at the concert.” Finally he met my gaze. “I wouldn’t have let him kill you.”
The comment knocked me in the chest. Would he have let him hurt me? Either way, he never had to make that choice and he did rescue me from my own Calvary. “I actually understand being forced to gift me but why drug me and not just mesmerize me?”
He leaned forward and rested his arms on the tub’s edge. “I tried. You’re not as susceptible to my mind, and stronger than most prey. I needed the drug to break down those walls.” He sounded sincere and I wanted to buy into it. “Dragos is not easy to please. I did all I could to protect you. Please tell me you forgive me.”
I didn’t know what to say. There had to be a way for me to find out who the real Rurik was.
He sighed. “You confound me, Connie. You came into that club looking for trouble, now you act betrayed that I found you.”
“Looking for trouble?” He was closer to the truth than he knew. It made me more wary but if he suspected me as the source of last night’s attack I’d already be dead.
He leveled his gaze at me and quirked an eyebrow. “Someone who wears a dress like that is asking for attention.”
“Fine.” I looked away chagrined, and changed the subject. “Will Dragos be hunting for me?”
“Why would he?”
“Don’t I belong to him now?”
Rurik relaxed deeper into the hot, steamy water. “He won’t waste the resources on you. There are other things occupying his attention at the moment. For your own safety, forget last night—and forget vampires.”
The reflection of the colored glass danced on top of my bath water, over and around the ripples. “You too?” My whisper was so soft it was barely audible to my own ears.
“It’s my turn to ask a question.” He didn’t hear my question, or he ignored it.
I smiled to myself, pleased he didn’t answer. “Okay.”
“Where are you from?”
“Didn’t you ask me this last night?”
“You can’t answer a question with a question. That’s cheating.”
I looked away from the colorful reflections in my tub to watch him. He still lay back, enjoying the wet heat with his eyes closed.
“Presently I live in a hotel room in Budapest, I was born in America.”
“And your heritage?”
I wasn’t sure what he wanted. My silence must have mirrored my puzzlement.
“You have some Romanian in your features.”
I nodded. “Yes, Romanian and French.”
“Your skin is too dark for either of them. There is something else.”
I’d had some of the oddest, yet most interesting moments with this man. I rested my chin in my hand and watched him soak. “There is? I didn’t know my parents, they died when I was young. My maternal grandmother raised me. Pictures showed my father was dark. The Romanian comes from his side.”
“A dark Romanian.” He continued to soak quietly while he mused over this. Then quick as lightning, he leaned way out of his tub toward mine. “Let me see your eyes again.”
I put my hand up to stop him from getting more of a view than I was ready to share. “Whoa there, buddy, that’s close enough. You can see my eyes from there.”
His amused grin returned.
I placed my chin on the tub’s edge and opened my eyes wide.
He laughed at me. “I’m not giving you an eye exam, Rabbit.”
I retreated to my comfy spot. “What’s the prognosis?”
“I think it’s gypsy. It would account for your sweet olive skin and your beautiful gray eyes.”
“You know, my grandmother told me she was a gypsy. I thought it to be a lifestyle, not a nationality.”
He leaned back. “See? A few questions and already we begin to know each other. Nothing to worry about—I don’t bite—not unless you want me to.”
Thick lashes made dark half moons under his closed eyes. He feigned disinterest. The steam beaded on his pale smooth skin. Some of those beads slipped down his face, tracing a line from his jaw, to his neck, then along his well defined chest.
I wanted to do bad things with him. I wanted to reach over and lick the beads off his chin then work my way down. I wanted to stroke my hands along...
“Rabbit?”
“Yeah?” My gaze rose from tracing the streams into his blazing stare.
He enjoyed my admiration. “Would you like me to ... bite you?”
“Not yet. What? I mean, no. Thank you.” Thinking was hard enough with Rurik fully clothed. Now it was impossible. I could tell I entertained him to no end. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, but not for your blood.” The edges of his eyes crinkled with his grin as he showed fang.
I was tired of him taking the lead in our rapport. My job dealt in seduction, yet since I’d met him, I’d lost control. He teased me with his flirtation and his body but two could play this game.
Self-confidence stirred back up, I turned away from Rurik and reached to get a sponge from the table. My movements exposed the length of my spine and a little more, just enough to make him think he got a peek.
His eyes burned along the curves of my hips and shoulders. They left my skin scalded with his desires. It’s been a long time since I dared play this game with such stakes on the table. Did I dare collect the pot if I won?
I knelt in the water, still facing away from him, and shook my hair free of its ponytail. The sponge spilled water as I squeezed it over my head. Warm and delicious it ran down my heated skin. I repeated this over and over until my hair was soaked. The tangle of my frizzed out poof tamed to soft curls once more.
“Why do you insist on calling me Rabbit?” My question floated on the steam in the room across to him.
“Rabbits are soft, quick, sweet creatures. You bring to mind a favorite poem.” The hunger in his voice made it deeper, almost sensual.
“Run, rabbit, run
Try to get away.
Run, rabbit, run
I’ve come out to play.
Run, rabbit, run
For it’s the end of the day.”
The poem sent shivers down my spine. ‘Run, rabbit, run ‘ was what he shouted as he shoved me out the window. Another shiver followed. Soft, quick, and sweet. He described me as prey. This was not a man but a vampire. If he liked me, did that make me safer or more tempting?
The splash of water landing on the floor caused me to look over my bare shoulder. R
urik retrieved a bottle of shampoo and paced back towards me. Bodies like Rurik’s were made for fantasies. Lean, long muscles moved under his skin, his actions graceful and strong. His heavy lidded glare made me feel like his thoughts could travel places his hands hadn’t touched.
“Let me wash your hair.”
I looked at him, cynical of his offer.
“So wary.”
“Can you blame me?” I didn’t know if I was ready for this, I wanted to be. It had been a long time since I was intimate with anyone. The need in my body encouraged me along this path of seduction. Rurik represented most women’s wet dream but a heaviness in my heart held me back, twisting me up inside like a knot. Sex could never be just a physical thing, my heart always got dragged into it, and in the end, it was broken.
“It’s good to be wary. I am a predator after all.” He knelt by my tub. “Indulge me. I like to do this.” For a fleeting moment, a touch of vulnerability peaked through the veil of intense, blue eyes. A yearning for my acceptance. It flashed so quickly, I doubted if it was real.
“Lean your head back and put your hair over the edge.”
“The water will spill onto the floor.”
“That’s what the drain is for. Take it easy, I won’t mislead you ... again.” A soft smile touched those full kissable lips.
My hair did need a wash. Who was I kidding? I wanted to feel his touch. It had ignited an inferno when he held me last night. I gave in to my dark side and did as he asked.
He took the sponge and squeezed more hot water over my hair, making sure it was saturated. He then worked the shampoo through the tangles of curls. His strong fingers massaged my scalp, my forehead, and down behind my ears. They made firm, confident circular motions.
The tension in my neck melted away where he applied pressure, kneading those sore tight knots. Tingles ran along my nerves wherever our skin pressed together. The spark of desire grew more intense.
The strength of his hands caressed the tender muscles of my shoulders. My moan echoed in the room as the pleasure bordering pain pulled from my injuries.
The floor ran slick with steaming water and soap as he began to rinse my head. He abandoned the sponge to use his hands to scoop water from my tub over my hair. His fingers ran through the curls, gently tugging them. It felt wonderful. This was the first time I allowed a man to do this. The pull on the strands increased with each pass of his hand, pulling me up out of the water, arching my back in response to the delicate pain.
