Dalakis Passion 4 - Eternal Brothers

by N. J. Walters

  wanted her. But he was old enough and smart enough to know that might never

  happen.

  Determination filled him. He wanted time to explore his feelings for Blythe. He was

  in this for the long haul, not a one-night fling. There was time and he was patient. As

  long as he could convince her to stay here, he had a chance at earning her trust. After

  that, he'd see what he could do about the rest.

  He motioned her down the short hallway to his bathroom. She waited for him to

  lead the way, following close behind him. Cassidy could feel her eyes on him as he

  started the water running in the tub and pulled out a large, fluffy towel, laying it on the

  long countertop. "If there's anything else you need, just ask." His voice was husky with

  barely suppressed need.

  She nodded, sidling away as he moved toward the door. Patience, he reminded

  himself. As he passed in front of her, she reached out and touched his arm. He froze,

  turning only his head to look at her.

  "Thank you."

  He gave a quick, hard nod. "You're welcome. I'll get you something to wear after

  your bath." He didn't want her gratitude, but she had reached out and touched him of

  her own accord. It was a beginning...

  The bundle in the center of his bed moved, bringing him back to the present. "Are

  you going to stand there and watch me all day?" Her voice was husky with sleep. She

  pushed away the covers, revealing her flushed face and tousled hair. She looked and

  sounded like a woman who'd spend the day being pleasured by her lover.

  Cassidy pushed away from the doorframe and ambled into the bedroom. Blythe sat

  up quickly, dragging the blankets with her. He caught a glimpse of her bare shoulder

  and realized that, at some point during the night, she'd shucked the T-shirt he'd given

  her to sleep in. He desperately tried not to think about the fact that she was naked

  beneath those covers, her bare flesh pressed against his crisp, white sheets.

  He'd fantasized about having Blythe naked and spread across those same sheets,

  her arms and legs open in welcome. Clearing his throat, he tried to remember what

  she'd said. "Actually, the day is gone and it's evening again. You slept the entire day

  away."

  Her eyes widened and she stared at him in disbelief. "That's impossible."

  He shrugged. "Impossible or not, you've done it." Ambling over to the window, he

  tugged back the curtains. "You have to be hungry. How about some soup and

  sandwiches? Or maybe an omelet and toast." He wasn't a great cook, but he could

  manage that.

  The rustling of bedcovers being shifted reached his ears and he struggled not to

  turn around. He'd love another glimpse of her creamy white skin. His body was once

  again as hard as a rock. He'd managed to get his desire for her under control when she

  was asleep, but now that she was awake, it was back.

  "An omelet would be nice."

  Unable to resist, he faced her. Once again, she was wrapped in a blanket, but her

  shoulders were bare. Damn, but she was delicious, looking good enough to eat.

  Ignoring the ever-present wariness in her eyes, he strolled over to stand beside her. She

  looked much better than she had last night. The bruises on her face were in full bloom,

  but there wasn't much swelling thanks to the ice pack that he'd insisted she use after

  her bath last night.

  Reaching out, he nudged a lock of hair off her forehead, smoothing his hand over

  her hair. When he reached her shoulder, he ran his fingers over the curve. "How are

  you feeling?"

  Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as if she were having a hard time getting

  air. "I'm...I'm fine."

  "Stiff?"

  She shrugged. "A little, but not too bad." She stood there while he traced the line

  from her shoulder to her neck and back again. "Cassidy?"

  "What?" He loved the feel of her skin and the fact that she smelled like his soap. It

  made him feel even more possessive.

  "Umm, I'd like to get dressed now."

  "Sure." He leaned down and brushed a quick kiss across her parted lips. It was over

  before it began. Turning on his heel, he headed toward the door. "Come on out to the

  kitchen when you're ready. After you've eaten, we've got to go over to the main house

  and sort out the situation."

  Blythe stood there like an idiot with her fingers touching her lips as she watched

  Cassidy leave. Her eyes strayed to his backside and she shook her head. She'd never

  stared at a man's ass before. Never cared to. Not until now. But if she were the type,

  she'd freely admit that Sam Cassidy had a prime one. He filled out his blue jeans to

  perfection.

  Her mouth still tingled where his lips had touched them. She'd been kissed before,

  but she'd never felt anything like this. She'd never felt much of anything at all, truth be

  told.

  Frigid! The word echoed in her brain, bringing her back to the present with a thud.

  She'd heard the same thing from men her entire life. As one of her ex-boyfriends had

  put it, she had a hot exterior, but a man could freeze his cock off inside her she was so

  cold.

  Wrapping the blanket tighter around her, she sighed. She buried her face in the

  fabric, loving the way it smelled like Cassidy--sandalwood, spice and man. When she

  realized what she was doing, she tossed the covers aside and let the cool air wash over

  her flushed body.

  She reached for her clothing, not relishing having to wear the same clothing again,

  but was pleasantly surprised to find her two tote bags and her purse laid neatly on the

  floor in front of the dresser. Unzipping both bags, she dug in and pulled out some clean

  underwear and a crisp, white long-sleeved blouse.

  As she started to dress, she thought about last night. For a few moments before

  she'd come fully awake, she thought that last night had been nothing but a dream. The

  visit from Cassidy, the men that Prince had sent, the violence, Stefan Dalakis and his

  family. A shiver skated down her spine as she carefully stepped into her panties,

  pulling them up her legs. Now that was one scary man, and his brother wasn't much

  better. Then there was that guy. What was his name? York, Zane York. He was as bad

  as the Dalakis brothers, and if she was to believe them, they were all vampires.

  Maybe she was more like her mother than she'd thought. She pulled on her bra,

  clasping it in the front and then reached for the blouse. The long sleeves would help

  cover the bruises on her arms and keep her warm. Even though it wasn't that cold, she

  felt chilled to the bone.

  Her mother hadn't dealt well with reality and had spent as much of her life

  medicated or in mental hospitals than she had out in the real world. Blythe had had to

  grow up quick to care for both of them. The alternative was foster care and she'd much

  preferred to have her mother at home, even when she wasn't well. It hadn't been a

  hardship to take care of her mother. At least she knew her mother had loved her. Her

  mother might have had a lot of problems, but loving her child hadn't been one of them.

  Her mother had spent hours playing with and reading to Blythe as a child. Maybe she

  hadn't been able to physically provide very well for her, but her mother had tried. She'd

  held
down waitressing jobs during her good spells. Those had been good times. Blythe

  felt tears welling in her eyes and blinked them away. Tears didn't help. They never had

  and never would.

  Lowering herself back to the bed, she groaned as her ribs protested. In front of

  Cassidy she'd managed to pass her aches off as nothing, but truthfully, all she wanted

  to do was crawl back in bed and sleep for about two days uninterrupted. But that was a

  luxury she didn't have. She had to find out what was going on and how to get away

  from here.

  She ignored the pang in the vicinity of her heart at the thought of leaving Cassidy.

  For some unknown reason, she felt safe around him. Protected. And if that wasn't the

  biggest fallacy in the world, she didn't know what was. Nobody would protect her but

  herself and she'd do well to remember that.

  But still, the tenderness in his eyes as he'd touched her face, her shoulder and her

  neck had made her stomach clench. She'd felt hot and uncomfortable. Cassidy confused

  her, made her want to be different.

  Well, she wasn't. She yanked on her jeans, this time welcoming the pain to clear the

  starry dreams from her eyes. It was time to be practical. Slipping her bare feet into a

  pair of loafers, she stood. She thought about making the bed, but her stomach growled,

  reminding her that she hadn't eaten in...well, she couldn't remember the last time she'd

  eaten.

  Tossing the blanket on the bed, she carefully made her way to the kitchen. Cassidy

  was just taking an omelet out of pan and sliding it onto a large plate that already

  contained two slices of toast. A single place was set at the table with orange juice and

  coffee.

  "Sit down and eat while it's hot." He slid the plate in front of her just as his phone

  rang. He grabbed his phone from the countertop and put it to his ear. "Cassidy."

  Blythe lowered herself onto the chair and reached for the steaming cup of coffee.

  Adding two spoonfuls of sugar, she stirred and then brought the rich brew to her

  mouth. The first sip was like heaven. The second even better. By the third, she thought

  she just might start to feel like herself again.

  Cassidy was listening intently as he watched her. Feeling self-conscious, she picked

  up her fork and knife and began to eat. Her awkwardness passed as she took the first

  bite. Flavor burst against her taste buds. She knew it was only eggs, cheese, mushrooms

  and peppers, but it tasted better than anything she'd eaten in years. Digging in, she

  didn't stop until her plate was empty. As she popped the last bite of toast into her

  mouth and chewed, she realized that the room was too quiet.

  She swallowed hard, reaching for her juice to wash down the bread. Cassidy was

  leaning against the countertop watching her. Even though he looked worried, a tiny

  smile played around the edges of his mouth.

  "What?"

  He shook his head. "Do you want more?"

  She thought about it, but for the moment she was full. "No, I'm good. Thank you."

  The moment was awkward. She wasn't quite sure what else to say. The man had taken

  care of her last night, drawing her a bath, making sure she had an ice pack for her face

  before tucking her into his own bed. This morning, he'd brought in her clothing and

  cooked her breakfast. She just couldn't figure him out.

  "You're welcome. If you're finished, we should go over to the main house. Zane

  and Sophia are due at any moment and Stefan's got some ideas about who might be

  behind the murders."

  God, she'd forgotten all about that in the midst of everything else. "Your employers

  are involved in the murders?" She kept her tone even, not wanting him to take offense.

  Cassidy swore and raked his fingers though his hair. "No, they're not involved, but

  someone is damn sure going to a lot of trouble to implicate them."

  "No offense, but they seem to have a lot of enemies."

  He tucked his phone in his back pocket as he shook his head. "Seems like that some

  days, but they're really nice folks." He paused, "Even if they are vampires."

  Blythe pushed back from the table and carried her dishes to the sink. After she

  rinsed them, she put them in the dishwasher.

  "Nothing to say?"

  She shook her head. "If you want to persist in believing your fantasy, you go right

  ahead."

  Cassidy reached for her, twining her fingers though hers. He held her loosely, not

  confining her. It felt almost...nice. She tightened her fingers around his. It wouldn't

  hurt to hold his hand. After all, the man had cooked her breakfast. She was just

  returning his kindness.

  Yeah, right. She swallowed hard as he led her to the door. Who did she think she

  was kidding? She was beginning to believe that Sam Cassidy was the real deal--a good

  man. And if that was the case, she had better protect her heart. Because if he ever found

  out what she'd done, he wouldn't want anything more to do with her.

  "You okay?" he asked softly as they walked down the stairs and through the

  garden.

  "Fine. Just fine," she answered as she walked into the Dalakis home. The door

  closed behind them with an ominous thud.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sophia flicked her gaze toward Zane, but he wasn't paying any attention to her, his

  concentration focused on both Stefan and Lucian. She sighed and turned her attention

  back to the women. She'd been hoping that tonight would be easier, seeing as how they

  were all on the same side in this thing, but if anything it was more tense.

  "Would you like some more coffee?" It was Lucian's wife, Delight, who interrupted

  her musings.

  "No thank you." When she and Zane had arrived, they'd been ushered back into

  the same study they'd met in the night before. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find a

  pot of coffee waiting on the table for her.

  "Ignore them," Delight whispered as she leaned closer. "They're just being men."

  "Meaning they have to act tough and manly."

  The other woman laughed. "Exactly."

  Laurel Rose sat next to Delight on the sofa, but she seemed preoccupied. Sophia

  wished they'd hurry up and get on with things. She had things to do tonight and there

  was a murderer on the loose.

  "Sorry we held you up." Sam Cassidy strode in the room, tugging a reluctant Blythe

  behind him. The blonde woman looked a bit better than she had the night before, but

  not much. Whatever her story was, it was obvious to everyone there that Cassidy had

  taken it upon himself to be her protector. He settled her in a comfortable chair slightly

  away from the crowd. She looked at everyone and nodded, but didn't speak.

  Stefan stepped away from the fireplace and faced them all. "Okay, it's obvious that

  the family is being attacked on two separate fronts." His green-eyed gaze was as cold as

  ice, his voice clipped. "Cassidy, it's up to you to monitor the situation with Prince. We'll

  act when necessary, but it would be nice if we could postpone it for a few days."

  "I'm on it." Cassidy looked grim but determined. Beside him, Blythe sat forward

  and for a moment Sophia thought the other woman would speak, but she slowly eased

  back in her chair and turned her head away.

  "That leaves the murders." Sophia sat forward as Stefan strode over to stand beside />
  his wife. "Laurel Rose and I have been talking about things and we decided that there is

  too much of a coincidence between what happened to her three years ago and what's

  going on now."

  "What happened?" Zane, who'd been standing quietly, walked toward the seating

  area and lowered himself into a chair. Tension permeated the room. Sophia held her

  breath.

  "There was a preacher named Jeremiah Stoner." Laurel Rose's voice was husky.

  Sophia could see the pain that the memories brought the other woman.

  "I can tell it," Stefan snapped.

  Sophia jumped. Pure menace was rolling off Stefan in waves. He was one scary

  dude. But his wife just shook her head, blissfully unafraid and continued her story. "He

  was always telling me to repent." She gave a harsh laugh. "I had some psychic ability

  and he used to tell me and everyone who'd listen to him that I was in league with the

  devil." Laurel Rose's dark, indigo eyes seemed to hold the secrets of the world as she

  stared at Sophia and Zane. Sophia didn't doubt that the woman had abilities. There was

  an almost otherworldly quality about her, even more so than the others.

  "Turns out, Jeremiah Stoner was the devil." Stefan sat down beside his wife and

  dragged her into his arms. It was fascinating to watch a big, bad vampire pamper and

  pet his wife. His massive arms wrapped around her and Laurel Rose leaned against his

  chest.

  What must it be like to have that deep a connection with another person? She

  fought the urge to glance over at Zane. She could feel his concerned gaze fixed upon

  her.

  "He was that." Laurel Rose picked up the story again. "I was on my way home

  from the store late one afternoon and he shot out one of the tires on my truck. I went off

  the road, slamming into a tree. He kidnapped me, tossed me into the trunk of his car

  and took me back to a secret room below his church."

  Stefan growled, his eyes glowing a harsh red, his fangs flashing. Sophia was afraid

  to move, afraid to speak. Suddenly Zane was beside her, seated on the arm of her chair,

  his hand on her shoulder. She did glance up at him then and was shocked to see his

  eyes glowing and his sharp teeth flashing as well.

  "It's real." The whisper from the corner had every head in the room turning toward

  Blythe.