“Merde! Do you have any idea what a vampire like Anthony can do? You were there at Jaclyn’s. Did you see what he did to Cibor? And believe me he’s much—”
“He threatened you!” she shouted, abruptly tired of being treated like an idiot. “Yes, I know what he can do, and, yes, God damn it, I know what he did to Cibor. Why do you think I’m doing this?” She snapped her lips shut, having said far more than she’d planned.
Christian stared at her a long time, while she waited for him to explode. Maybe shoot fire out of his eyes or something this time. But he didn’t do any of those things.
“Do you trust me, Natalie?”
She blinked at the sudden question, but there was only one answer. “Of course I do.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile at her quick response, but his next words were deadly serious. “I want to check your head, to see if your mind’s been tampered with. Because I can’t think of any reason why you’d think that I need your protection.”
Ah, yes. There was the roar she’d been waiting for. “Well, pardon me, great one,” she drawled sarcastically, “for believing you might need me for anything. And, no, I will not let you tap into my brain.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Afraid I’ll discover you think I’m brilliant and handsome?”
She puffed out a dismissive breath. “Hardly. Now sit down and listen to me.”
Christian cupped her cheek in one hand, his thumb moving in slow, soothing circles over her chin. “No, chére. You listen to me. I need you for many things, but I do not need you to protect me against Anthony, or any other vampire. That’s my business, and I’m very good at my business.”
“But—”
“No,” he said, that one word saying it all.
He was completely unwilling to discuss it. Why had she ever thought they could have a rational conversation?
“He thinks if he gets you away from me, he can win you over. And if not, then he’ll force your mind to his way of thinking. Never mistake Anthony’s pettiness for stupidity. He has no morals, no limits when it comes to—”
“Christian,” she said patiently.
“—getting what he wants. And he wants—”
“Christian,” she said again.
“—you. There is no way I’m letting you spend five minutes with him, much less an entire—”
“I agree with you,” she said flatly, giving him her version of the blue fire stare.
“—evening. What?”
“Geez, how stupid do you think I am? I’m not going anywhere with Anthony. Why the hell do you think I called you over here?”
Christian was frowning at her, but she could hear Marc laughing softly.
“I assumed—” he started to argue, but she stopped him.
“You know what they say about assuming.”
His frown deepened, while Marc laughed harder. Christian glanced over at his lieutenant, and then back to her. “I don’t think I want to know. Okay, I’m listening. Tell me why I’m here.”
She reached up and stroked Christian’s face, so smooth over the curve of his cheekbones, slightly rough where his beard was a dark gold shadow. He leaned into her hand, rubbing like a cat. It made her smile. “Can we sit down first?”
He pulled her toward the sofa.
“You want some coffee?” she asked innocently.
He gave her a narrow look as he sat down, taking her with him. “Very funny,” he said. “Now tell me why I’m here.”
“Don’t you want to be?”
“Natalie,” he growled in warning.
“Fine. First of all, do you think you should check my head, just to be sure Anthony didn’t do something to me? He was waiting for me in the hallway outside Jaclyn’s office. That’s why he messed with Cibor, to get him to go back inside and leave me alone.”
“I can check, but I don’t think so. You wouldn’t have called me here otherwise.”
Her eyes widened. “What if that’s the compulsion? What if he wants you here?”
“Then I’ll be Lord of the South before the night is over. What’s your plan?”
“Simple. I knew I couldn’t deal with Anthony on my own, and I knew I’d never talk him out of coming here tonight. So I called in the big guns. You.”
Christian laughed, putting his arm around her and pulling her against his side. “Just for that, I’d kill him for you tonight. Unfortunately, Raphael wants him, because of what he did to Cibor. I promised I’d wait until he arrives tomorrow to discuss it.”
“The challenge,” she said, surprised she’d forgotten. Raphael and the others were still coming for the challenge tomorrow night.
Christian nodded. “Nothing will stop that, but Raphael would have come anyway. Anthony’s a fool to mess with you on my watch, but he’s many times a fool for trying to compromise one of Raphael’s people. If Raphael’s known for one thing, it’s loyalty to his own.”
Natalie swallowed her sigh of relief. She didn’t want to prick Christian’s alpha ego, but she was happy to let Raphael take on Anthony. She didn’t need Christian to prove anything to her, and she didn’t want him risking his life. Anthony wasn’t worth it.
“Oh my God, how’s Cibor?” she asked, ashamed she hadn’t asked already.
“He’s fine. Jaclyn’s with him.”
“Jaclyn probably hates me. I never should have tried to hide up there. None of this would have happened.”
He tightened his arm, squeezing her close. “Of course she doesn’t. She’s worried about you.”
Natalie shrugged, not sure she believed that. She glanced away, wanting to change the subject, and caught sight of the clock in her kitchen. “I need to get dressed!” she said urgently, pushing away from Christian, and standing up. “Anthony will be here any minute, and we need to be gone.”
Christian stood next to her, but he clearly didn’t share her urgency. “But that would be rude, ma chére. To make Anthony drive all this way for nothing? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She gripped his hand tightly. “I thought maybe we’d go somewhere, be gone when he gets here.”
Christian gave her a disbelieving scowl. “You want me to run? From Anthony? I know you can’t judge this for yourself, mon ange, but he does not have the power to kill me, even if he was inclined to try. Which he won’t, because he’s too afraid of dying, himself.”
Natalie rubbed her eyes, thankful she hadn’t put her makeup on yet. She wanted this night to be over. She wanted Anthony out of her hair, and Christian in it. In that order. “But you said you can’t kill him, because of Raphael.”
“I can’t kill him tonight, but I can sure as hell make sure he understands what’s mine. And what will never be his.”
Natalie gave him an exasperated look. What was with the mine bullshit? She didn’t belong to anyone. Although, in her deepest, non-feminist heart, she had to admit it gave her a little thrill to hear him say it.
“I need to get dressed,” she repeated abruptly. It was the one thing that made absolute sense right now. Clothes. “Make yourselves at home. I know you don’t like my coffee, but there’s vodka in the freezer, and scotch in the cupboard next to the sink. Glasses are in the same—”
The doorbell rang, stopping her in mid-sentence, replacing exasperation with . . . not fear exactly, but trepidation. She believed Christian when he said he could defeat Anthony. But best-laid plans and all that. Accidents happened. People got lucky.
She couldn’t think of any other trite sayings. She turned to Christian who cupped her cheek in one big hand, his fingers spearing back into her hair, as he moved even closer. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
Natalie noticed that Marc had come to his feet, and now stood just behind Christian, his arms crossed
over his chest.
“I’m not worried about me,” she confessed.
“Then you’ve nothing to worry about. Answer the door, but don’t invite him in.”
“Should I get dressed first?”
Christian tilted his head, taking in her finger-combed hair, her makeup-free face, and the big robe which left it unclear how much, or how little, she had on underneath. Natalie felt a blush heat her cheeks. He smiled.
“No, you’re perfect, just as you are.”
She didn’t believe that, but figured he knew what he was doing. She tightened the sash on her robe, still wishing she’d used the time spent arguing with Christian to go upstairs and put on some clothes. A quick check of the peephole confirmed it was too late for that now. Anthony stood out there. Sucking a deep breath of courage, she opened the door, and was shocked to see that he was all alone. Other than when he was in his office, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d seen him without a bodyguard or two lurking close by. Maybe they were waiting in the big limo idling at the curb.
Or maybe Christian had been right, and Anthony’s intentions this evening had been something less than honorable, or even legal.
“Lord Anthony,” she said, sticking to formalities, as she dug down and managed a weak smile.
“Natalie,” he said warmly, but then he got a good look at her, with her makeup-free face, her barely brushed hair, and her robe. “Am I too early?”
“Anthony!” Christian’s voice came from behind her, and his arm dropped over her shoulders in a blatantly possessive gesture.
She hid her surprised reaction, just barely, but didn’t even try to stop the instinct that had her pushing back into Christian’s strength as rage lit up Anthony’s face.
“Duvall,” he growled. “What are you doing here?”
Christian didn’t answer Anthony’s question, turning his attention to Natalie instead. “Ma chére, go keep Marc company, would you?”
Natalie wanted to insist on being there for whatever was about to happen. After all, she’d been the one who’d set this whole thing up. The one who Anthony had no doubt revolting plans for tonight. Standing this close to him, she imagined she could feel tendrils of his thoughts trying to reach out and grab her, the way he’d attacked Cibor. But her mind had always been her strongest attribute, and there was no way he was getting in there. She pictured a wall around it, starting with stone blocks and reinforcing it with steel. And maybe those tendrils hadn’t been all in her imagination, because she thought she detected a flash of surprise in Anthony’s eyes, a moment before Christian’s arm tightened around her. He pulled her out of the doorway, then shifted to stand between her and Anthony. “Stay with Marc, chére, please.”
Natalie moved back. She had no argument with getting farther away from Anthony. But she wasn’t going to hide behind Marc either. This was her fight as much as Christian’s, and she wanted to be there for it.
Anthony had observed the whole exchange, his face darkening with rage. “Come here, Natalie,” he said harshly, with a whip of command in his voice that she could hear, even if she wasn’t inclined to obey. To Natalie, Anthony’s attempt to compel her was an interesting curiosity. Something she filed away to be researched later.
Christian’s reaction was completely different. It was like a match sparking tinder. His entire posture changed, as if he’d been holding back, and now all bets were off. Every muscle in his body tensed, and all traces of affability disappeared in an instant. Setting her firmly behind him, he faced down Anthony, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Behind her, Marc had come to attention at the same time, and he took her arm now, and carefully put himself between her and the two angry vampires.
“Stay the hell away from her, you sick fucker,” Christian growled, “or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Anthony made a scoffing noise. “Kill me? Empty words, Duvall. You don’t have what it takes.”
Christian stepped out of the townhouse and onto the porch, forcing Anthony to back up or be crushed. And he must have seen something more in Christian’s face, some vampire quality that she didn’t yet understand, because shock abruptly erased all traces of scorn from Anthony’s expression, and he nearly stumbled when he took an urgent step backward, away from Christian.
“The only reason you’re still breathing, Lord Anthony,” Christian snarled, “is because Raphael has claimed your death for himself. But push me a little harder, and I’ll forget all about the promise I made.”
Anthony paled even further as he backed down the walkway. “This isn’t over, Duvall,” he hissed. “Not for any of you. You have no idea what’s coming.”
Natalie pushed into the open doorway, shaking off Christian’s hand when he tried to stop her, and refusing to budge until Anthony’s limo was out of sight. She was shaking inside, coming down from the cascade of fight-or-flight hormones triggered by the confrontation. Christian pulled her out of the way and closed the door, and she locked down her emotions, refusing to wimp out and cry or, God forbid, start trembling like a leaf.
Christian put an arm over her shoulders, and she waited for him to give her an encouraging hug, and tell her it would all be okay, that he’d protect her. But instead, he used his arm to turn her in the direction of the stairs, and said, “Go get dressed.”
Natalie scowled. Bossy fucking vampire. But since she had no argument with putting on some clothes, she didn’t call him on it. This time.
“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.
“Home.”
CHRISTIAN CONFERRED briefly with Marc once they arrived at the house. There was work to be done, but most of it involved Marc’s talents, not his. They needed to find out as much as they could about the real situation in Mexico. Anthony’s parting shot might have been bluster, but it had held a ring of truth that he couldn’t ignore. Something more was coming, and they needed to figure out what it was. Christian considered calling Vincent to discuss the problem. They’d established something of a rapport in their previous brief conversation. But before he did that, he needed more information.
“I cracked Anthony’s system, but there’s nothing there,” Marc said, shaking his head. “Ten years ago, I could’ve walked right through his firewalls. But now everyone has security experts and closed networks, with no Internet access. Get me in the building, and I’ll have full access in no time.”
Christian snorted dismissively. “I don’t think Anthony’s going to be inviting us back anytime soon.”
“I’m not giving up yet. There are still a couple of trails I want to follow.”
“Better you than me,” Christian said, and slapped Marc on the shoulder before leaving him at the basement door and heading back to the kitchen, where he could hear Natalie moving around.
He was relieved to be able to turn the research over to Marc. He wasn’t in the mood to sit down at a desk and stare at a computer screen. He was altogether too energized, almost as if his skin would split from the pressure building inside him. It could have been the challenge, the fact that things were finally moving forward, but that wasn’t the real reason and he knew it. It was Natalie. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d heard her voice on the phone. Meeting her had only sharpened his desire. But even worse was the knowledge that he wouldn’t be satisfied with a quick night or two buried in her body. He wanted to keep her.
“I’m going for a swim,” he announced, ignoring Natalie’s look of surprise as he strode through the kitchen, yanking his sweater off as he walked. The pool had been one of the big selling points of this house for him. Swimming was the ultimate relaxation. Well, that and sex.
He glanced back as he slid the glass door open and flicked on the pool lights. “Are you coming?” he asked Natalie. She was standing on the other side of the kitchen, still wearing the hoodie she’d pulled on before leaving the townhouse, and looking confused.
“I don’t have a suit,” she protested.
Christian laughed. “Neither do I,” he said, and started to strip.
NATALIE FOLLOWED Christian outside just in time to catch his dive into the pool. Steam formed a translucent fog over the turquoise water, and a bare ripple of movement marked his progression across the pool. She took a few tentative steps closer to the pool’s edge, eager and yet reluctant to see Christian in all his naked glory. Even clothes couldn’t conceal the athletic perfection of his body, the breadth of his shoulders and chest, his strong legs and tight ass. She was desperate to see him in nothing but skin, but she was also terrified. She wasn’t used to feeling anything this intense for a man. She had a grinding need for him that would only be satisfied with sex. Sweaty, throbbing, groaning sex. Something she was pretty sure she’d never had before. Sure, she’d had sex a few times, but it had never been like this. Not like she was sure it would be with Christian.
He surfaced long enough to execute a perfect racing turn at the end of the pool, then disappeared again as he started his return lap. Natalie blinked in confusion. He was actually going to swim? She’d assumed it was just a way to get the two of them naked in a pool, but he was doing laps? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.
Blowing out a disgruntled breath, she figured she should at least take off some of her clothes. She was beginning to feel foolish standing there, clutching her hoodie around her like a terrified virgin.
She dropped the sweatshirt on the same chair where Christian had tossed his pants. Toeing off her Nikes and socks at the same time, she considered whether to go further. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, she wasn’t sure yet—she was still wearing her most unsexy underwear.
“Don’t be such a prude, Nat,” she muttered to herself. She turned her back to the pool—okay, maybe a little prudish—and pulled off her T-shirt and jeans, adding them to the pile of clothes. She shivered in the cool night air, and turned to eye the steam coming off the pool longingly. Even if she didn’t go in the water, it would be warmer at the pool’s edge. She glanced down at the boy shorts and sports bra she was wearing, and rolled her eyes. She was being stupid. Her underwear was less revealing than the bikini she normally wore to go swimming.
Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) Page 17
