“Sorry about the choke hold,” he said, noticing the path of her hand. “You broke the law once, and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure you wouldn’t add assaulting a police officer to your rap sheet.”
“I doubt I could take you.”
He didn’t look as if he believed the statement anymore than she did. As if he knew she wasn’t the mild-mannered reporter she pretended to be.
“I seriously doubt you’ll find any solid leads in my notes,” she blurted, eager to ignore the strange thought. He wasn’t a vampire, which meant he couldn’t know the truth about her.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He stashed the slip of paper with the contact information in his shirt pocket. “I’m staying just down the hall. I’ll give your editor a call first thing in the morning. You’ll be around tomorrow, right? In case I need clarification on anything?” She nodded, and he stared at her again, his gaze glowing, searching. “We’ll talk once I figure things out,” he finally said.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she called out to his retreating back.
“I already did,” he said and then he disappeared.
What was that supposed to mean?
The question haunted her as she stared at the closed door. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to find her just to get his hands on her notes.
Unless the notes were just a cover, and he wasn’t half as interested in her research as he was in her.
“I already did.”
His words echoed in her head, and his image flashed in her mind—his knowing expression, his odd gaze.
She’d noticed his eyes back in Washington when he’d escorted her off the mountain. But then she’d been ambushed by Cruz and Molly. She’d forgotten all about Keller, about the strange glow of his eyes and the fact that no matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to read his thoughts.
She’d forgotten about everything except surviving.
The notion stirred her suspicion.
Sheriff Matt Keller had shown up just minutes before Molly and Cruz back in Washington. Had he led them to her?
Was he leading them to her now?
The question stalled in her head and sent a burst of fear through her. She threw the lock on the door and peered past the edge of the curtains.
The shadowy walkway remained empty. In the distance, she could see a light on in the lobby. Eldin sat behind the registration desk, his gaze hooked on a nearby television, his hands busy with a platter of nachos.
Relief swept through. A crazy feeling because she’d already accepted her fate. The possibility that Sheriff Keller might be speeding up her fate by leading Molly and Cruz to her shouldn’t have freaked her out.
It did.
Not because she was afraid to die, but because she was afraid to die without knowing the truth about her feelings for Garret.
The truth crystallized as she stood there in the window, her hand gripping the drape, her body still throbbing from their earlier encounter.
She wanted to right off the pounding of her heart and the trembling of her hands as fear. Because there was a very real possibility that Keller was linked to Cruz and Molly. But she knew it was more.
It was Garret.
Because she loved him?
She’d never thought so. Sure, she’d pretended that what she’d felt had been the real thing back then, but she’d never known. How could she? Her parents’ relationship had been one of fear and dominance. There’d been no kind words, no soft feelings. She’d never seen love firsthand, and she’d never, ever felt it. While her mother had, indeed, cared for her, she’d been too busy worrying over her own survival to have anything left over for her daughter. And her father…He’d shown her only cruelty and hatred. Likewise, her existence had been a string of meaningless encounters, all fueled by hunger.
And so she’d written off the tingling in her stomach, the trembling in her knees and the strange warmth in her chest as pure, uncomplicated lust.
Physical rather than emotional.
She’d convinced herself that the only reason she’d reacted to him so intensely way back when was because he’d taken the lead and swept her off her feet. He’d treated her like a woman and so she’d reacted like one.
But if she gave in to the hungry beast inside of her and swept him off his feet, she wouldn’t come anywhere close to having an orgasm.
Right?
Maybe.
Probably.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder as she stepped into the shower, if maybe there was more to it.
If he was more.
Maybe she reacted to him not because he was the only man who’d ever taken the lead, but because he was the only man, period.
Her one true love.
It shouldn’t have mattered. Regardless, it wouldn’t change her fate. If anything, it would make her all the more determined to set things right. She knew that, but she still couldn’t close her eyes and push him out of her head when she finally toweled off and crawled into bed.
Instead, she tossed and turned and ended up staring at the ceiling.
She’d spent far too long—almost two centuries to be exact—wondering what it would feel like to love and be loved. While she had no illusions that Garret felt anything that strong for her-—he’d been far too controlled tonight—she knew there was a real possibility that she loved him.
She climbed from the bed and reached for her clothes. While she had no clue if what she felt even came close to the real thing, she wasn’t going to pass up the chance to find out.
To feel it. To really and truly feel it.
If only for a little while.
18
“THE MAN’S REAL NAME is John Darrington. It’s probably an alias like the other, but there’s no way to know for sure without checking further. His last known address is in Chicago,” Dalton MacGregor’s voice carried over the cell phone the minute Garret picked up. “I’m e-mailing it to you right now, along with my notes.”
Garret paused, pitch fork in one hand, his cell phone clenched tight in the other. “You’re sure it’s him?”
“Based on the information that you gave me, this is the man you’re looking for. He had actual contact with the blogger who gave the description of him. Based on everyone I’ve talked to, it’s him, right down to the medallion that you described.”
Garret could still feel the cold metal dangling over him, brushing his skin as the figure loomed over him.
“Do you want me to fly to Chicago and check it out myself?”
“You’ve done enough. I’ll take it from here. Send me everything, and I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” Garret hung up and dialed Jake.
“We’ve got him,” he told his friend.
“Really?” Excitement fueled the one word. “You’re not shitting me, are you?”
“I’m flying out at sundown tomorrow to check it out. Twenty-four hours from now, you just might be getting ready to watch the sun rise.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. You stay with Nikki and the others. This is something I need to do by myself.”
Garret needed to face his past, to finally see the man’s face. He wanted the bits and pieces of what he remembered to finally fit together in a clear, solid picture.
And then he wanted to shatter that picture and destroy the man who’d destroyed him.
He did.
So why didn’t he feel even a fifth the excitement he’d heard in Jake’s voice?
Because killing the Ancient One wouldn’t solve Garret’s problem.
It wouldn’t make Viv love him the way he loved her.
Wait a second. Love? She couldn’t love him any more than he could love her.
Hell, he didn’t love her.
Tonight had proved as much. He’d held tight to his control and resisted the urge to climax.
Barely.
The realization followed him around the barn as he pitched hay for the three mares he had stabled inside. They were
about to foal and he wanted them comfortable.
The horses stirred, dancing around their stalls, completely alert to his presence and fearful of it.
For now.
But come tomorrow night things would be different. He could help foal the mares, and he could start taming Delilah. He would have his life back. His humanity.
If only he wanted it half as much as he wanted Viv.
The truth pushed and pulled and haunted him for the next half hour as he tried to work off the sexual energy stringing his body tight. He couldn’t, regardless of how hard he pitched or how fast he moved.
He wanted her.
In a way he’d never wanted any woman before.
Because she meant more to him than an easy lay and a way to feed the beast inside of him.
Much, much more.
He didn’t want to believe it, but then she appeared in the barn doorway, and the sight of her outlined in the moonlight stopped him cold.
There was nothing provocative about her faded pink sweats and worn tennis shoes, but his gut tightened anyway. Her eyes sparked a bright, brilliant blue, and the minute his gaze locked with hers, his heart stalled in his chest.
He loved her, all right, and that made him all the more determined to resist her when she stepped forward. He’d given her his heart once before. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
No, he would play it cool. Controlled.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent.
“I thought I’d see where you live.” She glanced around. “It’s nice.”
“It’s a barn.”
“Yeah, well—” she shrugged “—it’s a nice barn.”
The tension eased for a few moments, and he couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m really busy. I’ve got a lot to do before I fly out tomorrow afternoon.”
The news seemed to startle her. “Where are you going?”
“Chicago.”
“Business?”
“It’s personal.”
“Oh.” She looked surprised, and a little hurt, as if she suspected he might be flying off to meet someone.
Some woman.
“I’ve got an address,” he heard himself blurt. He knew what she was thinking, and while it shouldn’t have mattered, it did. “By this time tomorrow night, the Ancient One will be history.” He shook his head. “I’m through living like this.”
She stiffened. “Is it so bad?” she finally asked after a long, silent moment. “Being a vampire?”
“Isn’t it?”
“It could be worse.” She shrugged. “My actual life wasn’t all that great, so I guess I don’t have much to compare it to.”
“You could, you know.” He wasn’t sure why he said the words, except that she looked so sad and lonely all of a sudden, and he couldn’t resist the sudden urge to ease her pain. “You could find your father and break the curse,” he reminded her.
“By killing him?” She shook her head. “I could never do that.” She seemed to gather her resolve. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t owe him, Viv. Not loyalty. Not respect. Nothing.”
“But I owe myself.” Her gaze locked with his. “Don’t you see? I can’t do to him what he did to my mother. No matter how much he deserves it. That would make me no better than he was.” She seemed to gather her courage. “I’m different. I am. I don’t hurt people. Not on purpose. I…” Her eyes burned with desperation, and he had the sudden thought that she wanted to tell him something.
But then she seemed to think better of it. Determination lit her expression, burning up everything else, and she reached for the hem of her T-shirt instead. “We still have some unfinished business,” she said. And then she pulled the cotton up and over her head.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her bare breasts trembled as she tossed the cotton aside and reached for the drawstring on her pants. Her fingers hesitated, and he knew then that she wasn’t half as confident as she pretended to be. And damned if that knowledge didn’t slither across the distance to him and keep him rooted to the spot when he should have turned and hauled ass the other way.
He didn’t need another test on his already tentative control.
Oh, but he wanted one. One more touch. One more kiss. One more chance to be inside of her.
She stripped completely down and stepped toward him.
Dropping to her knees in front of him, she gripped his zipper. Metal hissed, and he sprang into her hands. She trailed her fingers over him, circling the ripe, plump head of his erection.
“I wanted so much to touch you before. Too much, that’s why I didn’t.”
He groaned. A drop of pearly liquid beaded on the head of his penis. She leaned down and closed her lips around the smooth ridge. Her fangs grazed the tender underside, and a bolt of electricity zinged through his body. Desire rushed hot on its heels. She suckled him then, and his cock throbbed in the warm heat of her mouth.
He ground his teeth together, fighting the sensation that gripped his body. He had to hold on, to hold back.
At the same time, with her mouth drawing on him and her hands tugging at his waistband, peeling the denim down his hips, it was hard to remember his objective.
Brakes, his conscience quipped. Put on the friggin’ brakes.
He couldn’t.
He pushed himself deeper into her mouth, his hands cradling her head as she sucked on him, and then he waited to see what she would do next. A long list of possibilities rushed through his head, but none of them were half as exciting as what she was doing right now.
Because it was real.
Because she was real.
Because he loved her.
Viv’s last little bit of hesitation vanished when she glanced up and saw the dark desire swimming in the depths of Garret’s eyes. He was following her, relishing her touch, eager for it.
She sucked him harder for several more moments before she finally pulled away and stripped the jeans completely down his legs. Then she pulled him down to the ground, urging him backwards onto the soft cushion of the hay. She climbed over him and sank down onto his hard, hot length.
Flesh met flesh as her body closed around his and ecstasy pulsed through her.
She moved, rotating her hips, her inner muscles contracting, sucking at him as the delicious pressure built inside of her.
A groan worked its way up his throat, and she saw the startled glimpse in his gaze, as if he felt everything as intensely as she did, and feared it.
When he grasped her buttocks, she thought he meant to slow her down, but he didn’t.
His voice, raw and husky, echoed in her ears. “I’ve missed you so much.” His fingers sank into her flesh. He tightened his pelvis and thrust upward at the same time that she pushed down, and it was like pure magic.
Sensation swept her up and pushed her to the edge as she sank deliciously deep. The sensation receded when she withdrew, and then hit her again when she slid back down.
Up and down.
Over and over.
Again and again.
Until pleasure crashed over her, and the most decadent orgasm flowed through her body. Along with a rush of pure joy that had nothing to do with the way his body pulsed deep inside of her and everything to do with the way he was looking at her.
His eyes blazed with passion and desire and a possessive light that said he would never, ever let her go again.
His fingers tightened on her bottom. The muscles in his arms bulged. His body went taut and a deep, husky growl rumbled from his throat.
His eyes fired even hotter, and his fangs flashed in the moonlight.
Before she could stop herself, she threw her head back and offered her neck to him.
She had the fleeting thought that he would refuse. While she truly felt something for him, she had no illusions that his feelings went any deeper than the lust that lived and breathed inside of him. No way would he want to bond himself to her.
<
br /> But then his mouth closed over her neck, and his tongue stroked her pulse point. And then…he sank his fangs into her.
She’d thought the orgasm phenomenal, but it paled in comparison to the dizzying rush that crashed over her in that next instant, gripping every inch of her body.
She rode the tide of pleasure, holding tight to his shoulders as he feasted on her and heightened the sensation.
But then he pulled away, and the feelings disappeared.
He stared up at her, disbelief blazing in his eyes. Reality crashed down around her, and she knew then that her worst fear had been realized.
He’d drank from her, bonded with her, and now he knew her head. Her heart.
He knew the truth.
“You did this to me,” he growled, and the betrayal in his gaze hurt far worse than the stake she’d envisioned in her dreams. “You.”
19
GARRET DIDN’T PULL OUT a stake and punish Viv for turning him all those years ago.
No, what he did next was much more painful.
He pulled away from her.
“I couldn’t just let you die,” she said as he turned his back to her and reached for his clothes.
“It was you,” he said again as if he couldn’t quite believe it. But he did. She saw it in the stiffness of his body as he yanked on his pants, the tense set of his shoulders as he worked at the zipper on his jeans. Anger warred inside of him, battling with the hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, but he didn’t so much as spare her a glance as he pulled on his boots and pushed to his feet.
She didn’t blame him. She’d lied to him too many times for him to believe her now.
She’d lied to herself.
No more.
He knew the truth, and so did she.
She loved him. She always had, she’d just been too naive to realize it. Too scared. She’d been hurt so much by the people that she loved and so she hadn’t wanted to love anyone.
She hadn’t wanted to love him.
But she did, and so she let him walk away. Words were little solace for the pain she’d inflicted on him. An apology wasn’t going to erase the past. There was only one thing that could do that.
A Body to Die For Page 13
