Kiss of Temptation: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 3

by Crista McHugh

  The man who called her daughter wrestled her away. “He is a slave who posed as his master to gain access to you. I have already sent word to the Emperor about Petrus’s deception. His slave is mine to deal with, and according to the law, he will be executed.”

  Tears choked her throat. This couldn’t be happening. She’d given herself to this man completely—body, mind and heart. She’d spent nights of passion in his arms. And he was nothing more than a mere slave?

  “Please forgive me,” Luc said, still focused on the ground. “I took one look at you and I forgot myself. I…” His voice cracked and he stopped straining against his captors. “Death would be kinder than having to spend a lifetime knowing you belonged to someone else.”

  A storm of emotions raged inside her. He’d lied to her, deceived her, and yet her heart still ached for him. She turned to the man in the red toga. “Please, let him go, Father. I’m sure he was just following his master’s orders.”

  “No. I will have justice, if only to save your honor.”

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The man she called Father nodded and the executioner raised his sword. Luc cast a mournful glance at her. His lips moved silently. I love you.

  Something welled up deep inside her, racing from her gut into her fingertips. He didn’t deserve to die, not like this. Nor did she want him to die. He had become a part of her, filling the emptiness that had plagued her soul for as long as she could remember. And she had the power to stop this.

  Sunlight flashed on the polished metal as it sliced through the air. Then everything dissolved into flames.

  Daniela jerked awake, her heart pounding from her nightmare. She sat up and ran her hands over her bare skin, trying to drive the chill away. What was the meaning of that dream?

  She looked at Luc, who continued to sleep peacefully with a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. For the first since she’d met him, the tension had vanished from his face. He actually seemed happy for once.

  She ran her finger along the wooden cross that rested in the center of his chest. He was still a mystery to her, but one she was determined to figure out. Perhaps once she completed her mission for the Foundation, she’d return to him and explore a future she’d never thought possible. Could she have found the one person she could spend a lifetime with?

  Her cheeks grew warm as she remembered crying out that she loved him in the heat of the moment. It was ridiculous to think she could fall in love so quickly. Yet even in the end when she felt stripped naked and exposed for him to see, he still clung to her and called her ma chérie. My dear.

  The warmth in her cheeks spread, settling in her chest instead of between her legs. She brushed a strand of dark hair back from his face. Yes, she could easily fall in love with this man.

  She stumbled to the bathroom to wash her face. Her hair was probably a tangled mess by now too. All things that needed to be tended to before they left for the airport. She silently prayed she wouldn’t have to cause another explosion in a public toilet again so they could make their escape.

  The cold water chased away any lingering sleepiness, and she checked her appearance in the mirror as she patted her face dry. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and she looked pale and drawn. She frowned. Not the look of someone who’d been brought to orgasm multiple times in the last few days. Perhaps the last few nights were catching up with her.

  Then she focused on a new blemish—two small red dots on the right side of her neck. She angled her head to allow more light on them and peered closer at her reflection. Her breath froze when she realized what they were. Bite marks.

  Her legs wobbled and she grabbed the sink to keep from falling. She didn’t remember it happening during her battle with Colette, and they weren’t there when she got out of the shower earlier today.

  A knot formed in her stomach as the ugly truth hit her. No. It isn’t possible. Not him. But the facts kept ambushing her. His nocturnal habits. His inhuman strength and speed. His avoidance of her on the Metro this morning when she was covered in blood.

  She crept back into the bedroom, praying he wouldn’t awaken, and dug the stake out of her rucksack. The words of her teachers at the Kavanaugh Academy echoed in her mind with each step.

  Vampires are evil.

  They are an abomination that needs to be wiped off the face of the earth.

  Kill them before they kill you.

  The splatter of crimson across her pillow confirmed her suspicions, and she almost doubled over. He was one of them. He had lied to her, betrayed her, fed off of her. She raised the stake over his heart. Her eyes stung. How could he deceive her? How could he have made her fall in love with him?

  Then the memory of them making love on the train flashed across her mind. She remembered his smile of satisfaction as he thrust into her from behind over and over, driving her wild with his intensity, and her hand shook.

  Santa Maria, Luc had a reflection.

  Her arm fell to the side. Things weren’t so black and white now. If he was a vampire, why had she seen his face reflected in the window? How could she fall asleep listening to the steady beat of his heart? Vampires didn’t have a pulse.

  She backed away from the bed, her thoughts warring with the storm of emotions swirling inside her. There was no doubt in her mind he’d bitten her and drank her blood. The stab of that betrayal burned deep in her chest. And yet she’d lost count of all the times he’d come to her rescue and saved her life.

  And what about the pleasure she’d experience in his arms? Was that all a ruse?

  She placed the stake on her pillow and pulled her clothes on as quickly as possible. She needed to leave while the sun still hung in the sky. She didn’t need him anymore. The headpiece was in Copenhagen, and with any luck, she could decipher the clues in his notebook, find it and be on a plane to New York before dawn.

  She fished the notebook from the pocket of his discarded trousers and cast one final glance at Luc from the doorway. He never stirred. No doubt drunk from glutting himself on my blood.

  Anger sustained her long enough to carry her downstairs and catch a taxi to the airport. But when her phone rang, her strength faltered. A sob welled up in her throat as she reached for it, hoping it wouldn’t be him.

  Morwen’s name flashed on the screen, and a new surge of rage boiled inside her. She drew in a deep breath before she set the cab on fire. She hit the answer button. “You bitch.”

  Morwen actually had the audacity to sound surprised. “Excuse me?”

  “You knew what he was, and yet you told me to trust him.”

  She paused a second before replying, “What did Luc do?”

  “He made me his snack.”

  A string of curse words followed. Apparently, this was becoming the norm every time they talked. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Did he turn you?”

  For a moment, Daniela almost believed the concern in the Head Witch’s voice. “Not to my knowledge. In fact, I don’t even remember him biting me. I just woke up with two bite marks on my neck and blood on my pillow.”

  “He must have enthralled you.”

  She vaguely remembered her conversation with him last night. He’d mentioned that the clever vampires would trick their victims into thinking it was a pleasurable experience. No lie. She never believed such a powerful orgasm was possible. But something still troubled her. “Morwen, when they feed on you, can they enter your mind?”

  “Yes, why? What did you show him?”

  Only my most painful memories.

  Daniela blinked back her tears. She couldn’t appear weak now. “Nothing that would endanger the Foundation, if that’s what you’re worried about. But after I find the headpiece, I’m finished. I’m the third most powerful—” she glanced up at the taxi driver, wondering how much of this conversation he understood “—person in my field, and I’m tired of being your pawn. In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been chased, beaten, attacked and betrayed.”

  “Tell me where you’re going
and I’ll send a team of hunters to protect you.”

  “I don’t need them. I can take care of myself as long as I don’t let my fucking guard down.”

  “And you don’t know what Colette is capable of doing.”

  The image of the fireball at Gare de Lyon replayed in her mind. Could Colette have survived the explosion? “If she’s still even a threat.”

  “Daniela, be reasonable. There’s no need to put yourself in any unnecessary danger.”

  Morwen practically sang the words in a hypnotic melody, and a warm hum vibrated up Daniela’s arm from the phone.

  She threw it down on the floor. How dare Morwen try to cast a spell on her? “I’m done,” she said from her seat and hit the end button with her foot.

  She pulled her knees up to her chest and wiped her eyes. They were all the same, no different than her parents. All ready to abandon her once they were finished using her. She was a fool to think Luc would be different.

  And yet, some part of her wounded heart secretly hoped he was. The deep ache in her chest continued to throb, even after her flight left for Copenhagen.

  The full moon illuminated the marble veranda, making it easy for Luc to spot Daniela on the other end. Her flowing stola danced in the salty sea breeze. The scene struck him as odd, like she belonged in a Roman fresco, but his arms still longed to hold her.

  Her eyes widened when she saw him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had to see you again, to explain my side of the story.” He pulled her into an embrace, but she wriggled away from him, leaving him alone and cold.

  “You could be killed for what you did. I could order you executed.”

  He froze when she narrowed her eyes. Would she be so cruel?

  Then her angry expression faltered and she turned away. “Please leave before they catch you. I don’t know if I will be able to save you again.”

  “I never meant to deceive you.” This time, she didn’t pull away when he wrapped his arms around her. The soft silk of her stola contrasted with the rough, homespun fabric scratching his skin. “Petrus ordered me to pose as him and report my findings.”

  “So he could have a laugh at my expense?” A splash of wetness on his shoulder followed her bitter words. “He must have thought it was hilarious to have a Senator’s daughter fall in love with a slave.”

  Something squeezed so tightly in his chest, he couldn’t breathe. “So you really do love me?”

  She shoved him away and retreated to the darker end of the veranda. “If you continue to mock me, I will call for my father’s guards.”

  “I’m not mocking you,” he said as he chased after her. “I just find it amazing that someone like you could ever love someone like me.”

  “That’s beside the point. Nothing can ever come of this. I’m promised to your master.” She turned and raked her gaze over him, her brows knitting together while the corners of her mouth angled down. “And you’re a runaway slave now. It’s only a matter of time before they catch you. You should leave.”

  “Not without you.” When she tried to interrupt him, he placed his finger over her full lips. He was so tempted to taste them once again, but first, he needed to tell her the reason he snuck into her father’s villa tonight. “I have a friend in Herculaneum that’s willing to lend me a boat. Meet me there tomorrow morning before dawn. We can go anywhere in the Empire, start fresh. Together, just the two of us.”

  She shook her head. “You’re asking me to give up everything to be with you. How will we eat? Where will we sleep?”

  “I’m a hard worker. I’ll provide for your every need. As long as we love each other, that should be enough.”

  She sighed and stared out at the glittering sea that stretched for miles to the east. Her silence troubled him. He’d expected her to say yes, to follow her heart instead of remaining trapped in the gilded cage she’d complained so much about during their time alone. Apparently, the cage seemed more appealing to her than a simple life with him.

  He hung his head and backed away from her. Bitterness seeped from his breaking heart and filled his mouth. How could he have been such a fool?

  “Wait.”

  Her whispered word held him prisoner like a thousand chains.

  Tears glittered in her eyes when she approached him. She stroked his cheek and pressed her lips against his. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll have my answer.”

  She returned to the house, leaving him alone with the hopeful flutter in his chest.

  Luc awoke from his dream and reached for Daniela, but found only cold sheets. He sat up and called her name. Silence answered him. Then he noticed the wooden stake on her pillow.

  His heart skipped a beat. She knows.

  He jumped from the bed and searched for his clothes, his pulse racing in his ears. I need to find her, to catch her before they do.

  The ringing of his cell phone from across the room interrupted his thoughts. He dove for it, praying it was her. “Hello?”

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t personally hunt you down and drive a stake into your heart.”

  Morwen’s threat didn’t rouse the fear in him it would in another of his kind. “Where’s Daniela?”

  “Looking for another drink?”

  “Damn it, Morwen, I need to find her before Colette does.”

  “You should have thought about that before you bit her. I warned you not to taste her blood. You have no idea what the consequences of your actions are.”

  He dropped onto the bed. He may have dismissed her warnings earlier about soul mates and past lives as the ramblings of an ancient witch, but the truth was beginning to dawn on him. His dreams seemed more like awakened memories. He physically ached for Daniela now. A shiver worked its way through his body before he repeated in a slight whimper, “Please, Morwen, I need to find her.”

  “So do I. I have a group of hunters en route to Paris as we speak. Where is she?”

  A spark of anger flared inside him, and he stood, grabbing a shirt as he left the bedroom. “How the hell should I know? I woke up and she was gone.”

  “She said she was going to retrieve the headpiece.”

  He pounded down the stairs and searched his pocket for his notebook. It was missing too. That sneaky little witch! His mind debated between keeping Daniela to himself and having all the reinforcements he could get. “Copenhagen.”

  “Thank you. Now leave her to us. You’ve done enough damage.”

  The phone clicked dead, but that didn’t deter him from his mission. Night was falling over the City of Lights, and he had a plane to catch.

  Chapter Eight

  Daniela reread the faded words on the crinkled brown pages.

  Beneath Charity’s breast, the treasure lies.

  She snapped Luc’s notebook closed and frowned. It had taken her most of the afternoon to decipher the cryptic lines. The treasure had to be the headpiece, but the rest of his clues lay buried beneath an elaborate poem. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to find the headpiece, she might have marveled at the beauty of the lyrics, the way he played with words and wove them into stunning rhymes.

  Of course, having to translate everything from Latin didn’t help. It reminded her too much of her dreams with the two of them in Ancient Rome. Even now, the image of Luc with a sword pressed into his neck still haunted her. It felt so real.

  Stop it, she scolded herself. Consider the dream a warning. If you stayed with him, you’d only get burned.

  Or bled dry.

  But oh, what a way to go.

  She found an empty bench in Copenhagen’s Old Square and pulled out a map. Considering her new knowledge of Luc’s immortality, she had no idea when he hid the headpiece. It could have been centuries ago. But she doubted it was hidden under the statue of the Little Mermaid down by the harbor.

  So far, her exploration of the heart of Copenhagen had yielded nothing, not a hint of the clues she’d extracted. She leaned back against the bench and rubbed her temples. Perhaps it woul
d have been easier to have stayed with Luc until he showed her the hiding place.

  No, she thought, shaking the idea from her mind. He was too dangerous, too seductive. She’d fallen under his spell too easily. Perhaps when she got back to the States, she’d take a lover. Maybe a whole stable full of them. That way, she wouldn’t fall so hard and fast for the first man who’d made her come in the last decade.

  She closed her eyes and listened to the gurgling fountain in the center of the square, trying to take her mind off of Luc. When her burning skin finally cooled, she opened her eyes and soaked in the scene that played out before her. Happy couples strolled hand in hand through the square. Bicycles whirred past the crowds. Groups of tourists snapped pictures of the fountain of a pregnant woman with jets of water streaming from her breasts. She almost laughed at it all. That fountain must have been considered scandalous years ago.

  She searched her map for the name of the fountain. Charity.

  Beneath Charity’s breast…

  Daniela jumped up from the bench and ran straight for the fountain, ignoring the startled gasps of the bystanders when she splashed into the pool. Luc had hidden the headpiece inside the fountain—there could be no other explanation for it. She ran her hands along the wet marble, searching for an opening, a weakness in the stone, anything she could find that would reveal what she sought.

  A shrill whistle ended her search. A policeman ran toward her, his face florid as he said something to her in Danish. When it became clear she didn’t understand him, he repeated in English, “Get out of the fountain or I’ll have to fine you.”

  She backed away from the statue, her cheeks flaming, and glanced around the crowd who’d witnessed her brief moment of insanity. One escapade hitting the news station was enough for the day. The last thing she needed was another lecture from Morwen about drawing unnecessary attention to the Foundation. She’d return when the city slept.