“I didn’t know much about her or where she was from. I just assumed her kin were as dark and twisted as she was. I never expected one could be as kind and caring as you.”
She smiled with a look that leveled him.
He broke the gaze. “I love the freedom of soaring above, without waiting for the dreadful moment when the curse would drag me back into the stone.” Now he was babbling? “Danton, my older brother, was able to use more magic to keep Mattias and me free for longer periods, but it had its limits. The magic was draining, and it took him time to recover.”
“How was Danton able to break the spell?” He could feel her watching him, although he kept his gaze averted.
“He bonded with a female. They took an oath as mates. Magic such as that is strong enough to break even the most powerful of curses.” Shit, why did he mention mates?
“How did he meet her?”
He picked up the salt shaker and pretended to study the grains. “She’s a bartender at Vamps. He’d shifted when her ex pushed himself on her one night and that’s when they met in the flesh for the first time.”
“You never met someone who you wanted to bond with?”
He growled. “Nor do I plan to.” He pulled his gaze to meet hers.
She tilted her head, seeming to consider it. “Why not? At the very least, it would have broken the curse, right?”
“The oath is not something to take lightly. It’s only to be taken between lifelong mates.”
She nodded. “You’re right. If the magic involved is that powerful, it shouldn’t be manipulated with for less than noble intentions.” She glanced at her wine glass and ran her fingers along the stem. “I’m surprised you never found someone, though, like Danton did. I’ve been there—plenty of beautiful women.”
He stabbed a piece of lasagna and chewed it with slow deliberation. “Right. I didn’t say no one interested me. I’m not interested in anything long-term.”
“Oh.” She straightened and rolled her shoulders back.
“After my experience with your sister,” he added, “how could I ever trust a woman again?”
Her mouth dropped open and expression twisted with surprise. “Oh, Lucan, you can’t let her do that to you. She kept your body captive for years. You can’t let her continue to imprison you by preventing your happiness!”
She had a point there. But, thirteen years of built-up hatred could not be torn down as quickly as the spell had been broken. “The damage is done.”
They didn’t speak much more about it as they finished their meals. As they strolled back to her hotel, he glanced at her hand. An urge to take it swept over him.
What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he do that?
It had to be her scent. That alluring female musk wrapped around him and captured it under his spell. He wrestled with the urge the remainder of the way.
In front of the main doors, they stopped. He searched her eyes. They held so much warmth. And kindness. And all the innocence he’d thought shattered in the world years ago. Something about her was so captivating. For a brief, out-of-control moment, he leaned forward to kiss her.
What are you doing? She’s your daughter’s aunt!
He straightened and cleared his throat. “Good night, Elise. I’ll be back in the morning.” After he found some place private, where he could go take care of himself, and relieve some of the agonizing tension from wanting to kiss her. To fuck her. To mark her as his.
He turned to leave.
“Wait,” she said.
He faced her. “What is it?”
“I have a room,” she said.
He almost choked on his saliva.
“What I mean,” she said, “Is that you could come upstairs with me.”
Chapter Eight
OH SHIT! HAD SHE ACTUALLY invited Lucan upstairs with her? This was so unlike her. So insane. But, after he’d admitted how much Veronique had shattered him and destroyed his trust, she yearned to show him how it didn’t have to be that way.
She took a step back. They were together for one reason alone—Marguerite. She strived to get back on track.
“Are you sure about that, Elise?” he asked.
“Sure. There are two beds,” she replied raising two fingers like it was a sensible solution. “You deserve a night in a comfortable bed. And they’re really nice in this hotel.” Although she feigned indifference, her insides ignited like someone had turned on a burner in her core.
“It would make it easier for us to connect,” he said.
“Connect?” she repeated with a surprised gasp.
“I don’t use one of those gadgets humans are so attached to.”
Damn, he meant a smart phone—not the much more sordid type of connection she was picturing.
“You mean their smart phones?” she asked while searching for equilibrium. Why did her muscles feel so taut and like jelly at the same time?
“Yes. But with the way they stare at them rather than talking to each other, that doesn’t make them seem very intelligent to me.” He raised his brows and flashed a devilish grin.
It reminded her of how he’d come on to her the night she’d met him at Vamps. She’d brushed off his attentions then as she was on a mission to find Marguerite’s father. And now that she had, she found it hard to part with him.
Her lips twitched. “You don’t need a device like that because you’re a shifter.” She turned and glanced over her shoulder with a small grin. Holy blatant flirting. Who was she? Why didn’t she just toss her hair and bat her eyelashes next like she was some kind of vixen?
“You have that technology already fixed in your brain and can communicate with others of your kind,” she added.
“Do witches have that ability?”
“I don’t know any who can. But I am sure some of the more powerful ones are able to do so.”
“Does this mean you have one of those smart gadgets?”
“No. We live a fairly simple life in the coven. We don’t need to communicate that way.”
The underlying sensual tension simmered between them. She’d invited him to spend the night in her hotel room. Sure, there was a good reason for it, but still—bed. Together. Alone. Her heart stuttered with each image. It didn’t take much to send her fantasies spiraling with some decadent scenarios.
Lucan pinned her with a penetrating stare. It electrified the current buzzing through her with such a jolt she thought she’d combust.
“If you’re comfortable with me being in the room with you, then yes.”
Comfortable? The way her body had thoroughly turned up twenty degrees would belie that statement. She forced it aside with a nonchalant wave. “Of course. It’s the practical thing to do.”
Practical. Right. That sounded more like her. Someone to depend on. The practical, pragmatic caregiver. Not a whit of excitement about her.
Before she opened her mouth and said something awkward, she entered the lobby. Lucan quickly fell into step beside her, an easy feat considering his broad pace. She glanced at his black boots, housing his massive feet. Every bit of him she’d seen so far was massive. What about the hidden parts?
No, she couldn’t go there. Why would she make this struggle more difficult? If she wanted to get through the night with a tempting shifter in the next bed, she had to purge her mind of inappropriate thoughts.
“My brothers will continue to keep an eye out for Marguerite tonight,” he said.
“That’s reassuring.” What wasn’t was the steady pulse of need throbbing within.
After they entered the hotel and stepped into the elevator, the tiny space seemed more confined. Was it because of the large gargoyle shifter sharing the space? Or was it his presence, which seemed to magnify and wrap itself around her, almost as real as it had been when she’d flown in his arms?
He stood in a parade stance, staring at the numbers as they ascended floors. Was he at all affected by their closeness as she was?
To distract herself, she asked
, “You and your brothers—have you always been close?”
“Of course,” he replied almost instantly. “They’re my brothers.”
“Ah, right. Just asking.”
He eyed her as if boring right into her soul. “You and Veronique—were you close?”
She shook her head. “No.” They didn’t argue often. Elise was never brave enough to stand up to her.
Why were they talking about this now? The last thing she wanted to think about was her awful sister.
The elevator doors opened, giving her the breathing space she desperately needed. She took a gulp of air and tried to slow her racing heartbeat.
Just when she thought she had a hold of her out-of-control systems, Lucan brushed her hand with his fingers. That tiniest of touches torched her skin. He didn’t pull his hand away immediately and neither did she. Her heartbeat drummed louder.
When his hand was gone, she almost protested. Her skin cooled with the absence of his touch.
She felt his gaze on her profile. Were her cheeks a fire engine red? Burning as much as her insides sizzled?
Perhaps it was a mistake inviting him in. They hadn’t even made it to the room and she’d already unraveled into a hot needy mess.
She stole a glance at him. His expression appeared contemplative.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“How—” He turned away and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Never mind.”
“Tell me,” she pleaded. What was he going to say?
“I shouldn’t.”
It had to be something significant. And for him to drop it without telling her, that would drive her crazy.
“If you think I’ll laugh or judge you, I won’t. I’m not like that.”
He dragged his gaze to her. “I know, and that’s one of the reasons I’m thinking it.”
Her heart hammered. She was going to lose her mind if he didn’t tell her. “Lucan?” she encouraged.
He took a deep inhale and exhaled with an audible whoosh. “I was thinking how different things could have been.”
“How?”
“If I had met you instead of your sister...”
Her heart gave one loud thump and then ceased to beat.
“I wish it had been you,” he added.
Every organ in her body cranked to a stop, including her brain. Then it was kick-started with the fantasy he’d just sparked. They could have met. None of these current obstacles would have existed. They would have had a fling like he’d had with Veronique, but instead of it turning sour, she and Lucan would have had a glorious, burning, whirlwind of a relationship.
Or not.
They would have been young—probably too young to get serious. Even so, she’d still have happy memories of an unforgettable time in her life after they’d parted. That was much better than her attempts at clumsy, lackluster, short-term dating, which had lacked any spark.
But, Marguerite never would have been born...
And that’s where the fantasy crashed, twisted, and disappeared with plumes of smoke.
“We wouldn’t have her,” Elise said just above a whisper.
Lucan exhaled. “Right,” he said. “Even though I barely know her, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me right now, I want to do right by her.”
Oh, mercy, that statement didn’t just pull her in deeper, it yanked her in with a fishhook, encouraging her to press her body against his right there in the hotel corridor.
A glance at a security camera prevented her from taking that foolish idea any further.
Yet, each step closer to her room seemed to echo in her ear with a reminder of how they’d soon be alone. She had to snap herself out of it.
Get a hold of yourself. Don’t do anything stupid tonight. Remember who he is and how he’s off-limits. Don’t complicate anything.
Right. She was practical, practical, practical! Not one to be swept up in romantic notions or illicit liaisons. Although she wasn’t a virgin, no man had ever looked at her like she was a siren unable to resist, the way he sometimes did. That was definitely more of a Veronique thing.
When she reached the door, she fumbled with the key card. On the third missed insertion to get the damned door open, Lucan said, “Want me to give it a try?”
Unfortunately, he reached over to help and when his fingers touched hers again, her concentration seemed to detonate. How did such a small gesture disarm her this way?
His body was right behind her, warm breath reaching the back of her neck. She curled back into him like a cat settling into the comfort in front of a cozy fire. Heat emanated from the closeness of their bodies.
“Sure.” Her breath came out ragged.
Of course, he opened it without a problem on the first try. Anybody could. It was ridiculous of her to lose the simple ability to swipe a key card simply by being close to a man.
Well, she’d never been alone with anyone like him. And the way he affected her was more profound than she ever could have anticipated.
He held the door for her, so she could walk in. And then she faced them—the two beds and all their provocative invitations.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Of course. Why do you ask?” Her voice came out quick and breathy.
“You seem nervous.”
When she turned to him, he eyed her with that same damn penetrating stare that had turned her into this awkward mess to begin with.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything to try to take advantage of the situation.”
“That’s the problem,” she protested. “Because more than anything, I want you to.”
She slammed her hand over her heart as soon as she heard what she’d revealed. Had she admitted her innermost desire to him?
Lucan froze. His jaw tightened as she appraised her will. Quelle horreur. He was going to shoot her down, wasn’t he? Why was she such a fool to have uttered such nonsense?
Then he took a step forward closing the distance between them. He raised one hand and trailed his fingers over her cheek. She stopped breathing. Yearning for something that was so wrong felt so deliriously right.
“Are you sure about this, Elise?”
She’d never been more certain of anything in her life. Before she opened her mouth and let her mouth run away with her feelings again, she just nodded.
“It’s a bad idea, you know?” He stepped closer and tilted her chin up.
The heat between their bodies electrified igniting a yearning for her body to touch his.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
So many things were wrong about it, but they all flitted away.
She leaned up to her tiptoes, eager to minimize the space separating them. “I’ve always been the good girl. It’s time I learned to be a little bad.”
Chapter Nine
LUCAN HAD BEEN FIGHTING the urge to kiss Elise all afternoon. Her feminine scent did strange things to him, making him turn primal with a desperate need to claim her. It was insane for him to respond all caveman like that, but there was something powerful between them that he couldn’t ignore.
When she made this first move, it rendered him powerless. He’d been drawn to her but had fought it for all the right reasons—well, they’d seemed right in his head. But now with her reaching up to kiss him, nothing else seemed to matter except for her. Her lips. Her mouth. Her irresistible soft skin just waiting to be touched.
Hell, he didn’t want to fight it anymore. He wanted her, she wanted him. It was as simple as that.
He bent down and closed the remaining space. When his lips touched hers, it jolted him with electricity. For a second, neither moved. He was entranced by her lips. Then something sparked between them, igniting passion raw and untamed. They practically devoured each other. Her mouth tasted sweet, with a hint of the wine they’d had with dinner.
As he ran his hands down her sides, she grasped at his back, pulling him toward her. They fell onto the bed and he did his bes
t to keep from crushing her with his weight. She was so small beneath him, almost fragile. Humans often were.
What he’d said to her about wishing he’d met her instead of Veronique was true. It would’ve changed his entire life, not only for him, but for his brothers as well. But, she was right—he wouldn’t have a daughter. And although he didn’t really know her, erasing her existence was too harsh a concept. He was a father and that connection alone was one he didn’t want to sever.
Lucan couldn’t change the past, but he had the present with Elise. And although their time might vanish in the harsh light of reality, they had this one moment.
He peppered her face with kisses and moved to her neck, running his hand over her soft throat and farther down. She let out a soft moan as he traveled lower. The scent of her arousal stirred his beast. When he reached in between her breasts, she ran her fingers through the back of his hair.
“Oh, Lucan.” Her voice came out soft and breathy.
His breath came out just as ragged and his heart pumped fiercely. Blood drummed through him, surging to his cock. He yearned to fuck her, but had to touch and taste her first.
She trailed her fingers over his shoulder blades down his back. He ran his hand back over one breast, caressing its fullness in his hand, and then he moved back up to her mouth, driven by the desire to kiss her again.
“We shouldn’t,” she said, but didn’t move her hands.
He paused and pulled himself onto his forearms to glance at her. “You don’t want to?” Damn it, he should have known this was too good to be true.
“I do.” Her breasts heaved against his chest. “But, not here.”
Shit, had he missed something? She invited him here and made the first move. He fought for clarity in his lust-addled mind.
“What if she comes back?” she clarified.
His muscles tightened. “Ah, right.” He could suggest they get another room. But, how would she take that? Before he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing, he had to consider if that was the right thing.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to lead you on,” she said. “I want this. But, we have to be responsible...”
INFLAME: (a gargoyle shifter and witch romance) (Underground Encounters Book 8) Page 6
