Argeneau 30 - Vampires Like It Hot

by Lynsay Sands

  Straightening his shoulders, he said grimly, “Then we’ll just have to hope the embassy can get her a replacement passport quickly and we can get her on a flight out of here directly afterward.”

  “Do you really want to pin your hopes of a future with Jess on the possibility that the government will work quickly?” Zanipolo asked dubiously. “Governments aren’t known for doing anything quickly . . . except perhaps going after taxes.”

  Raffaele scowled at the truth of those words.

  “Look,” Zanipolo said, sitting down at the table and eyeing him with concern, “I know you wanted to wait until after this trip to start to woo Jess, and I applaud your self-control, but I really think you need to show her the pleasure you can experience together now, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” Raffaele asked, eyes narrowing.

  “In case Vasco does get her,” Zanipolo said quietly.

  “He’s not going to get his hands on her,” Raffaele said with a scowl at the very thought.

  “But if he does,” Zanipolo said insistently, “and if he does it before you seal the deal with her, you could very well lose her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Raffaele said with irritation. “She’s my life mate.”

  “Unfortunately, she is his too,” Santo said quietly.

  Raffaele rounded on him with shock and roared, “What?”

  “It’s true,” Zanipolo assured him apologetically. “Vasco’s desires have been reawakened and he felt her pleasure.”

  Raffaele’s head jerked back in shock and he stared at his cousin with dismay before asking in a bare whisper, “He gave her pleasure?”

  “They’re possible life mates too, Raff,” Santo said solemnly, as if that said everything, and it did. The passion between Jess and Vasco would be as strong as it was between him and her.

  “But she likes you,” Zanipolo said now, and Raff peered at him blankly.

  “What?”

  “She likes you,” Zanipolo repeated. “She doesn’t really like Vasco. The passion is there, but she doesn’t want it to be. He’s too crude for her with his talk about trout and jugs. And she’s horrified at his being a vampirate. And he has greasy hair. Those things along with the horror she was experiencing helped her fight the passion, and luck gave her the opportunity to escape before he could consummate their passion.”

  “But she might not be so lucky a second time,” Santo pointed out in a rumble.

  “And you know once she experiences the full life mate passion with him . . .” Zanipolo shook his head, not bothering to say more. But he didn’t have to. If Jess experienced the passion life mates enjoyed with Vasco without knowing she could also have it with him, she might very well overlook the things she didn’t like. Greasy hair could be washed. She could insist he alter his speech around her and he would. Any immortal would for a life mate. He might even give up his ship and being rogue for her, and just the promise of that combined with the life mate passion would most likely make her agree to be his mate.

  Raff sank down onto the nearest chair and stared at his cousins briefly before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Because I figured you’d do the whole fair thing,” Zanipolo admitted quietly.

  “Fair thing?” he asked with bewilderment.

  “You’d feel you had to tell her about immortals, and explain everything before you tried wooing her,” he said dryly.

  “Yes,” he admitted, because that was the right thing to do.

  “It won’t work here, Raff. What she saw Ildaria do to Tyler . . .” He shook his head. “If I weren’t one myself and didn’t know Ildaria was breaking our laws, I’d think we were monsters too.”

  Raffaele scowled, but said, “I’m sure if I explain things properly, she’ll understand and—”

  “Read my mind,” Zanipolo interrupted with exasperation.

  “What? Why?” Raffaele asked with surprise.

  “Because explaining it will not have the same impact as seeing what Jess saw. I’m thinking of what I saw in her mind. Of exactly what she saw. Read my mind so you can see it for yourself, and then tell me again that explaining will help anything.”

  Raffaele’s mouth tightened, but he slid into the other man’s mind and then stilled at the visuals coming at him.

  “Dear God,” he whispered, quickly withdrawing from Zanipolo’s mind.

  “Yeah.” Zani nodded. “Explaining is not going to cut it if you do not have some kind of hook in her first. You need to seduce her, show her life mate passion, show her that you are perfect for each other, and then, maybe after a couple months of ravishing her, once she is good and hooked on the sex, you can explain about what we are and whatnot. But, cugino, if you tell her you’re an immortal like Vasco right now, she will be running away screaming from you too.”

  Raffaele nodded silently, seeing the wisdom behind the suggestion. After what she’d seen Ildaria do, Jess was not going to be willing to hear anything he had to say if he admitted to being an immortal too. He needed to do some serious wooing here. Not just seducing, but everything and anything he could do to make her feel safe and secure with him. She needed to trust him fully before he revealed what he was to her, or he would lose her.

  For a moment, Raffaele debated what to do first. Seduce her? Or get her to the American embassy and seduce her after that? After all, surely they wouldn’t be able to get her a passport the same day? They’d have to check to be sure she was who she claimed to be. Wouldn’t they? And that would give him at least one night to seduce her. Wouldn’t it? Raffaele didn’t know. He had no idea how long it would take her to get a replacement passport or a flight out, and that was a problem. If he took her to the embassy first, he risked her leaving before he could seduce her.

  “We have a kind of plan that will allow you to do both—seduce her and get her to the U.S. embassy,” Zanipolo said suddenly, obviously reading his thoughts.

  Raffaele merely raised an eyebrow in question at the news, not at all surprised that the man had been reading his thoughts.

  “We asked about the embassy. It’s in Arroyo Hondo, a section of Santo Domingo. That’s about a three-and-a-half-hour drive from here,” Zanipolo informed him. “But the office closes at four thirty.”

  Raffaele glanced at the wall clock. It was just before nine o’clock now. That gave them seven and a half hours until it closed. Plenty of time to get her there.

  “Not if we work it right,” Zanipolo assured him as if he’d spoken the thoughts aloud. “Say she’s another hour in the tub and then dressing and stuff. Then we take her to breakfast.”

  “I was going to order room service,” he said with a frown.

  “Even better,” Zanipolo said with a grin. “I asked about room service breakfast while we were in the restaurant and they said it usually takes a good hour for breakfast to be delivered in the morning, or even more depending on when you order it.”

  “That’s one hour down,” he said quietly.

  “Right, so you eat here and then we take a taxi into town to a car rental place to rent a car for the drive. Another hour if we’re lucky.”

  “That still leaves five and half hours to get there before it closes,” he said with a sigh.

  “We have to stop for lunch,” Zanipolo pointed out. “And probably for a bathroom break.” He shrugged. “We get there just after it closes, and then rent a suite at a nearby hotel. She’s away from here, safe from Vasco, and will be able to go to the embassy the next morning. She’ll relax, you’ll relax, and bada boom bada bing! Life mate sex, fireworks, an orchestra plays ‘Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life’ and you—”

  “What?” Raffaele interrupted with disbelief.

  “He watched Young Frankenstein again the night before we flew out,” Santo said dryly.

  Raffaele just shook his head, not sure what the hell he was talking about.

  “Never mind,” Zanipolo said with a laugh. “Point is, you’ll get to both take her where she wants to go, and sedu
ce her.”

  “Hmm,” Raffaele murmured, admitting to himself that it was a good plan.

  Jess stared silently at her toes sticking out of the bubbles and tried to relax, but her mind was spinning with worries and questions. Vasco, pirates, and vampires were only a part of them and they fell in the worries department rather than the questions area. After all, she knew that Vasco was a pirate captain and a vampire. She also knew he thought she was his life mate, whatever that was, and that he was determined to get her into his bed. So . . . worry, not questions. The questions all came in with Raffaele and his cousins.

  Jess let her feet sink into the warm, sudsy bathwater and leaned her head back as she considered the three cousins. They’d dragged her from the ocean, well, Raffaele had, and had brought her here to their room, and . . . basically they’d been taking care of, and saving, her again and again since. Raffaele had saved her from being taken by Cristo when the pirate had taken control of her and would have forced her on the bus, he’d carried her back down here when she had her hysterics about her passport and such missing, and he’d grabbed her legs and dragged her down to his balcony when Vasco had nearly caught her.

  Thinking of that made her remember the terrible thud of the pirate captain hitting the ground four stories below the balcony and Jess found herself wondering if he was all right. Frowning, she gave her head a shake. Of course he was all right, he was a vampire. A fall couldn’t kill him. Besides, she shouldn’t even be worrying about that. She should be wondering how to escape or, alternately, kill the monster.

  That thought definitely caused conflict in Jess. She couldn’t kill Vasco. To be honest, she didn’t even want to. He hadn’t hurt her. In fact, he’d given her great pleasure . . . when he wasn’t talking. And, in truth, she wasn’t really afraid of him. Ildaria? Yes, she was definitely afraid of her. And she was even afraid of Cristo. When it came to Vasco, though, she was more afraid of herself and what he made her feel . . . the temptation he presented.

  “All right, you’ve lost your mind,” she told herself grimly. “He’s a threat to your very life and soul.”

  Is he? part of her mind asked. Surely he wouldn’t turn her without her agreeing? Besides, everyone who went on that boat seemed to have returned perfectly fine. Well, except maybe for being a quart or so lower on blood, she supposed. Maybe she would have too . . . after experiencing the best sex of her life. And you know it would have been good. Just the foreplay was mind-blowing.

  “The man is a vampire. A bloodsucking fiend,” she reminded herself firmly.

  But a hell of a kisser, the little voice in her head countered, and Jess groaned and slid down in the tub, allowing the water to cover her head briefly. She sat up again a moment later, but her thoughts were no clearer on the subject. The part of her that was able to reason knew she should be afraid of the man and do everything possible to escape this power he had over her. But another part, mostly her lady parts, she suspected, wasn’t so sure.

  Unable to resolve the issue, Jess pushed it away and turned her thoughts to the questions she had, which mostly had to do with Raffaele. The man had saved her three times, four if you included his picking her up and carrying her down here when she’d had her fit of hysterics on finding all of her things missing. He’d rescued her, and offered her rest and respite in his hotel room, and hadn’t asked for a thing in return.

  Jess almost would have been happier had he tried to seduce her while she was distressed. At least then she’d have understood his motivations, but he’d been a complete gentleman. Why was he taking up his vacation helping her?

  She understood, or thought she understood, why his cousins were helping. Santo and Zanipolo were obviously helping him, not really her, but why was Raffaele doing it? And why the hell hadn’t he kissed her yet? If he did, and it was even close to the passion Vasco had shown her, she might at least have something to help her fight the temptation the pirate presented.

  And how sad was that? she thought grimly. Vasco was a soulless vampire who lured unsuspecting tourists onto his ship to feed off of, and that wasn’t enough to keep her from lusting after him. But as ashamed as she was to admit it, part of her panic when he’d caught her hand while she was trying to escape had been a result of the awareness that had shot through her the moment his skin made contact with hers.

  She’d felt that same awareness, though, when Raffaele had wrapped his arms around her legs to prevent her being dragged upward by Vasco. For one moment, before he’d tugged her free, Jess had felt pulled in two directions. Not by the men, so much as her own desires. Which was why she had questions about Raffaele. Why was he helping her? Had he felt the same pull of attraction? Was he just resisting it? If so, why? Was he, maybe, married? Or did he have a serious girlfriend or fiancée?

  Jess scowled. The thought of Raffaele already being taken was a depressing one, but did it really matter? she asked herself. After all, it wasn’t like they were going to have the opportunity to have a relationship. Maybe if she didn’t have to get out of there, find the embassy, and fly home to stay safe from Vasco, things would have been different. They could have had a vacation romance or something if he was single, but as things stood, staying wasn’t an option.

  Still, if he could give her the same passion Vasco had inspired in her, resisting the pirate would be easier. But since the man showed no interest in that, she just had to get the heck away from the resort and to the embassy as quickly as she could.

  With that thought in mind, Jess sat up and glanced over the small bottles with the hotel logo on them. Spotting the one that said shampoo, she grabbed and opened it. She’d lollygagged long enough in the bath. It was time to get moving.

  Ten

  Jess finished brushing her hair, and then pulled on her damp bikini bottoms with a grimace. They weren’t dry, of course, but wouldn’t have been even if she’d let them sit for hours. The humidity would have prevented it.

  Hopefully she wouldn’t have to wear them much longer. In fact, Zanipolo and Santo may have already brought back a T-shirt and shorts or something for her to wear. The thought was enough to encourage her to move a little quicker. Jess grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it around herself sarong-style as she headed for the door.

  “Ah, perfect timing,” Raffaele said as she joined him in the sitting room. “Zanipolo and Santo just delivered your clothes.”

  “Oh,” she said with relief and then her eyes widened as she spotted the bags on the coffee table. Moving toward them, she asked, “Which bag is for me?”

  “All of them.”

  “What?” She glanced to him with surprise.

  “Zanipolo likes to shop,” Raffaele said with a shrug and wry smile, but Jess frowned.

  “That was kind, but I’m pretty sure I can’t afford all of this,” she muttered, moving to the bags. Jess had browsed through the boutique stores here, and knew the prices were crazy expensive. Looking through the bags didn’t reassure her any. The two men hadn’t just picked her up a T-shirt and shorts, they’d bought her dresses, and swimsuits, and a couple pairs of shorts as well as several T-shirts. They’d also thought to get her panties and bras, which were amazingly the right size, as well as sandals, both the high-heeled strappy kind, and flat walking sandals. No flip-flops. Glancing to Raffaele, she shook her head. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I’ll take a T-shirt and a pair of panties and shorts, as well as the flat sandals, but we’ll just have to take everything else back, and I’ll pay you back for what I do use when—”

  “You don’t have to take anything back, and no one expects you to pay for these clothes, Jess,” he interrupted solemnly. “They’re a gift.”

  She shook her head firmly. “You guys have already done enough for me. I—”

  “You might need the extra clothes,” he interrupted.

  “No,” she assured him. “The shorts and T-shirt are good enough to go to the embassy with, get a replacement passport, and then fly home.”

  “Zanipolo and Santo asked about the em
bassy,” he announced, as if just recalling it. “They were told it’s in Arroyo Hondo. I guess that’s in Santo Domingo.” He shrugged, and then added, “So, after you dress and we eat, the plan is to take one of the hotel buses into town and rent a car to drive there. I gather it’ll take a couple hours.”

  Jess stared at him wide-eyed. She’d assumed there would be an embassy in Punta Cana. Foolish, she supposed. They could hardly have an embassy in every small town or city of every foreign country. But she could hardly believe that the men were willing to drive her there. She wanted to refuse the offer, and insist they continue with their vacation and forget about her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option. She was a starving student still. She might be able to borrow money from the family members who were here, but paying them back would be a problem. Not impossible, but another burden added on top of the extra costs she already had. Replacing her passport wouldn’t be free, and the clothes she’d lost were a write-off, and then there was her purse and all her credit cards that—Crap! she thought suddenly. She couldn’t buy a plane ticket without her credit cards. Dear God, it didn’t matter if she went to the embassy and got a passport, Vasco had made sure she couldn’t leave.

  “Jess?” Raffaele said with concern, moving a little closer. “Are you all right? You’ve gone pale. What’s the matter?”

  “I just—” She shook her head and sighed. “I need to dress. I’ll feel better once I’m dressed.”

  “Of course,” he said gently, and picked up the three bags for her. He then led the way back to the bathroom.

  Jess followed silently, her mind whirling in a sort of panic, but when he set the bags down on the bathroom counter and turned to leave the room, she asked, “Why are you guys helping me like this?”

  Raffaele paused and turned back with surprise. For a moment, he just stared at her, and she got the feeling he was debating what to say, but finally he simply said, “Because you need help.”