He was breathing so heavily that she realized that maybe he wasn't actually the one in control. Maybe she was. Maybe she had a chance.
Quickly, she slipped her hand under his jacket, her fingers sliding between the buttons on his shirt. What was up with the undershirt? Didn't he know that it was more important for her to caress his bare chest than to be all proper with a damned undershirt? How else was she supposed to get him so turned on he couldn't think straight? Oh, yeah. Right there. Kiss me lower. "What curse?"
"You sound breathless," he murmured, his lips skimming the top edge of her very low cut dress. "Out of shape?"
"Hah. I could kick your ass all day long and still have the energy to run a marathon." She scrunched her eyes shut against the torrent of sexual energy racing through her and tried to think about her job. "What curse?" she asked again, trying to concentrate, which was incredibly difficult, given that his hands were wandering all over her body. Down her spine. Over her hips. Across her butt.
"The Curse that kills all the LaValle men at age thirty-one." His thigh slipped between hers, and she let out a little groan, nearly dropping to the floor and dragging him with her. "I love a woman who's loaded between her thighs."
Please tell me he's talking about the gun. "I couldn't decide whether to shoot you or stab you, so I came prepared. I'm sort of a whimsical killer. Whatever weapon strikes my fancy at the time."
"God, you're hot." He moved his leg again, and she found his mouth, pouring years of abstinence and loneliness into him as he flooded her with heat, with passion, and with raw sex. "You owe me an answer. Why did you curse us?"
"I don't know about any curse."
Derek broke the kiss, and she almost wailed with dismay as he pulled back. He frowned at her. "You're serious? You didn't curse us?"
She blinked and tried to concentrate, attempting to unclench her fingers from the back of his neck. "Why would I curse you?"
"Because you were mad at Carl and beheading him showed you how much fun it would be to torture LaValle men for eternity." His brow was furrowed, but his hands were still on her back, though the fervency of their exploration had faded somewhat.
She shook her head, trying to refocus, but there were so many hormones rushing through her that rational thinking was a little tricky. "I don't even know how to curse anyone, and for your information, beheading Carl really wasn't all that fun."
He rubbed his thumb along her jawline. "So, if you didn't curse us, then you don't know how to undo it?" He sounded extremely disappointed. Frustrated even.
"No." He was definitely using sex to distract her. She was morally offended, and as soon as he stopped talking, she was going to start kissing him again to weaken his defenses to her own interrogation.
"Then there's no other choice." He swore under his breath. "I'll have to kill you."
There was regret and hesitation in his voice. His eyes were dark with frustration, making her realize that he didn't want to kill her. Despite all his bravado, his heart wasn't in it. How sweet was that? He wanted her to stay alive. Her throat tightened. God, a man who felt bad about killing her was so difficult to resist!
But if he was so reluctant, maybe she could change his mind. He seemed like a reasonable fellow. Determined and motivated, but reasonable, with a good moral foundation. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
His eyebrows shot up. "Why not?"
"Because if you're going to try to kill me, then I'll have to kill you first. I don't fail at that kind of thing."
He cocked his head. "I stand forewarned." His gaze was steady and unwavering. "So, it's a date to battle to the death, then."
She sighed. "Looks that way." Stubborn man. Why wouldn't he walk away?
"Want to have sex first?"
A blast of heat rushed through her so hard she almost stumbled. "What?"
His cheeks turned a faint shade of red. "Shit. Did I misread the situation? Were you not thinking about that?"
She cleared her throat. "I might have been thinking about it," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean I'd do it."
"Why not? If one of us is going to die, why not have our last moment be amazing? Because I'm pretty sure it would be amazing. I've never reacted to anyone the way I react to you. It's kind of incredible, honestly." His eyes were searing hot. "You're unlike any woman I've ever encountered. I'd be devastated to kill you," he said softly. "I wish there was another way."
Oh, my God. Could he be any more irresistible? He was such a sweet man. "Me, too."
He raised his brows. "So, you want to—"
"No. I can't." She had to cut him off before he made the offer again. With his hands on her hips and the taste of him still on her lips, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep turning down the offer if he kept making it sound so delicious. "I'm not allowed to have sex. Guardian Oath thing."
He frowned. "Really? That seems pretty restrictive."
"Yeah, well, maybe a bit." She wrapped her hands around his upper arms, trying to focus on her job instead of relishing the feel of his biceps flexing under her touch. "So, what's with the gym rat body? Part of your plan to take me out?" Did he know the only way to kill her was by beheading her? She needed to find out what kind of skills she needed to defend against.
"I've studied almost every kind of self-defense in an attempt to beat the Curse when it comes for me. I'm quite proficient when it comes to threats against my well-being." He slid his hands down to her hips and tugged her against him. "I could give you quite a battle, I think," he said, his voice low with temptation. "You're sure you can't find a loophole? Due to my Curse, I tend to stay away from women, so it's been a long time since I've found a woman I couldn’t resist. I'm feeling a little desperate to get my hands on you, I have to be honest."
He hadn't been with anyone in a long time either? Granted, her dry spell was probably a couple centuries longer than his, but relatively, they were in the same situation. Damn it. Now he was even more appealing.
He cocked his head, studying her. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"
"Maybe." At her response, he smiled, an adorably hopeful smile that made her heart stutter, and then burst to life.
How could she pass up this opportunity? Not just sex, but sex with a charming, compelling man who could possibly beat her in a fight to the death, one who knew all her secrets, and wanted her anyway. A man who made something deep inside her settle, as if he were pouring peace into her soul with each kiss. She was desperate for what he gave her. It felt like his kisses filled the loneliness she hadn't even realized was eating away inside her.
One night. One moment. One beautiful experience to remember. No long-term commitments (obviously). Just sex.
No, she corrected herself. It wouldn't be just sex. Intimacy. That's what it was. Maybe not love, but there was a connection that was more than raw physical attraction.
Could she justify it? This one time? One moment of physical connection in two hundred years? She deserved it, didn't she?
Yes, she did.
She ran her hands over his chest, relishing the sensation of his muscles under her hands. Could she make this happen? Could she justify it enough so she didn't violate her Oath? She kind of thought she could. As much as Derek made her burn, she knew that she'd never cross that line and endanger Mona by losing track of what she needed to do. She'd relish the time with him, but use the opportunity to get the information she needed, and she wouldn't lose sight of the fact that she would have to kill him in the end.
She could do it all. She'd still kill him. She could. She would.
But first? They both deserved this gift.
She took a deep breath, met his gaze, and spoke a truth that terrified her almost as much as it made her heart pound with anticipation. "If having sex with you was necessary for me to protect Mona, it wouldn't violate my Oath. Protecting Mona trumps everything."
"Well, damn. How about that?" A slow grin spread over his face, his expression softening into warmth, desire, and pure sin. "I hav
e many secrets that I'll spill only in the heat of orgasm. As a good Guardian, it's your duty to find them all out. After all, that's why I'm propositioning you. To distract you so you accidentally tell me everything I need to know."
Her fingers curved into his chest. "Then for the sake of Mona, I guess I'd better sacrifice myself." She felt hot. The room was spinning. She lifted her chin. "But in the interest of being able to concentrate on the interrogation, I think we should agree that there will be no assassination attempts until we are both satisfied...that we've gotten all the info we need."
"Deal." The heat in his eyes was scorching, and it kind of made her want to whimper.
"Mona's safety is very important to me. We should probably begin the interrogation as soon as possible. Skip dinner?" Oops. Did she sound too desperate?
His face lit up. "Hell, yes. Your place or mine?"
Desperate or not, he was right there with her. "I have a roommate." Plus, Justine wasn't about to let him get that close to Mona.
He didn't even try to manipulate his way into her condo. "Right. The dragon. My place." He grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the alcove. Had they been putting on a show?
No one in the restaurant seemed to notice them, but who cared anyway? She was going to get up close and personal with this amazing guy, all to protect Mona! And she didn't even have to lie or pretend she was some harmless accountant or anything like that! She could just be herself. It was incredible. Not just sex. Sex with honesty. Intimacy with honesty.
Yay.
And she even had the Treatise angle covered…she hoped.
If not, well, hell would become a lot bigger part of her life, and fast.
Chapter Seventeen
Derek knew he was probably a fool to entrust his life to the promises of a woman who had murdered his ancestor, but he didn't care.
He liked her.
No, that was too simple.
He was entranced by her.
He'd spent his life keeping women at a distance. Part of it had been to protect them from aligning themselves with someone cursed to die, but part of it had been because he hadn't been able to afford the distraction of a woman. Death wouldn't wait for him to be ready. It was coming, and he had the exact date, so he had a ticking clock haunting him that left no time for dating.
But Justine was different. For the first time in his life, he had the chance to be with a woman who knew the truth about him and didn't think he was certifiable. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him. He didn't have to hide what he believed in, and he didn't have to worry that she'd fall in love with him and then be rudely surprised when he was killed by an earthworm. It was such a relief.
He couldn't be certain she'd keep her promise to not kill him until he was ready, but he was fine with that. He'd spent his life preparing to fight off a violent death, and he'd be ready if she tried something.
The idea of her trying to kill him mid-orgasm sort of made the thought of sex with her all the more interesting, actually. Instead of worrying that he had to protect her from all his baggage, he had to protect himself from her.
A definite turn-on.
And that wasn't all. She was tough, yeah. She'd killed Carl, yeah. But that vulnerability he'd seen in the sketches had also been present in person. There was something about her that brought out the protector in him. She made him want to become more than he was, someone who could defeat the Curse and keep her safe.
For so long, he'd been wholly focused on saving his own life and that of his twin, but Justine made him see something in this world besides his own fate. She made him see her. She made him feel alive, even as his own death came hurtling for him.
He glanced down at her as the doorman opened the door to let them out of the restaurant. Her cheeks were flushed, and she grinned at him. "Having second thoughts?"
He smiled, brushing his finger along her cheek. "Not a chance." He bent his head to kiss her, his lips teasing against hers. Her lips were soft, almost like silk, meant to seduce him, to draw him in until he couldn't think of anything but the need to touch her, to kiss her, to—
"Derek!" Becca's urgent shout rang out across the parking lot.
He pulled back from Justine and saw Becca standing next to his limo. His driver was slumped in the front seat. Becca was wearing a sports bra, running shorts, and sneakers as if she'd rushed over to the restaurant in an emergency, not even taking time to change. Alarm shot through him, and he moved Justine protectively behind him. "What happened? What's wrong?" He scanned the parking lots for threats, but there was no one around except for his two employees. "What happened to Lewis?"
"I knocked him out. Is that her?"
"You knocked out my driver? Why?"
"Because he can't see this, obviously!"
"See what?" Had Becca finally snapped? What the hell was going on? He looked around the parking lot again, moving even closer to Justine. She might be able to take out his ancestor, but he was trained in all sorts of defense. If there was a threat out there, he was going to make sure he was in front of her.
"I was in the middle of my workout when I heard you were out with the Guardian. I came as fast as I could. Is that her?" she asked again. "Move so I can see!"
"The Guardian?" What did Becca know about the Guardian? He'd never said anything about a Guardian. She only knew he was searching for an antique goblet. What the hell was going on?"
"She knows I'm the Guardian?" Justine tensed, her fingers digging into his lower back. "What did you tell her?"
"I didn't—"
"Who are you?" Justine called out, stepping in front of him before he could finish, her hand under the hem of her dress and toward her gun. She sounded calm and unconcerned, but he knew what she was wrapping her fingers around under that black silk.
Shit. He quickly stepped between the two women. "Justine, this is the CEO of Vic's Pretzels, Becca Gibbs. Becca, this is Justine Bennett, my date for the evening. Justine, Becca is on our side. She's worked for me for years. She's completely loyal to me. You don't need to kill her."
"Kill me?" Becca looked annoyed. Not worried. Annoyed. "She wants to kill me?"
Shit. He was not handling this well. "No, I didn't mean that. I just—"
"Wait a sec." Justine spun around to face him, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "You own Vic's Pretzels?"
"Yeah, in name only. Becca's in charge. Are you going to shoot Becca?"
"He invented the no-carb pretzel," Becca called out. "You should see what he's working on now."
"Can I get your autograph?" Justine asked.
He stared at her for a moment, trying to process the change in topic. Maybe Justine was used to near-death-parking-lot-altercations, but he was having a little more trouble shifting gears. "My autograph?" he echoed.
She nodded. "For Theresa. She's such a fan."
"The dragon? She's a fan of my pretzels?" He wasn't sure how to respond to that. It wasn't a situation he'd really prepared for. What was the appropriate response to finding out that his pretzels were popular with dragons? Then he saw the gleam of interest in Justine's eyes, and he forgot about anything else but the way she was looking at him, as if she'd suddenly remembered why they'd bailed on dinner so suddenly.
Heat seared through him, and he grinned. "You like the pretzels, too?"
She shrugged, but her eyes were sparkling. "They're okay, but they bring Theresa great joy, so thank you for that."
He smiled. "My pleasure." He moved closer, his fingers circling her wrist to draw her closer. "Always happy when my pretzels bring happiness to people who need it."
"Oh, they do. She has so little else, and when they showed up at our door yesterday, you should have seen how thrilled she was—" She suddenly narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait a sec. The surfer dude who came after Mona yesterday was from Vic's. You sent that guy to kill us? I thought you weren't the type to have someone else do your dirty work." She looked very disappointed, and the interested gleam began to fade from her eyes. "You don't figh
t your own battles?"
"I don't know any surfers, and I'd never delegate anything about the Curse—"
"Hey!" Becca shouted. "We don't have time for chit chat. Get over here!"
Derek waved off Becca. "Tomorrow. I'm on a date." A date who still looked ravishing in her dress, her cheeks still flushed from the heat of their kisses. "Listen, Justine, I—"
"No. You can't kiss her!" Becca shouted. "She's dangerous to you!"
Oh, she has no idea. "Trust me, I've got a handle on the situation—"
"Excuse me, Mr. LaValle, is this woman bothering you?" The doorman walked down the steps toward Derek. "I could call the police."
"No, she's fine." He pulled a few hundreds out of his wallet and handed them to the man. "Sorry if we're being loud. If you'll just excuse us—"
"You bet I'm fine," Becca snapped. "I keep him in line, so back off." She snarled like a wild animal, and the poor man nearly fell up the stairs in his haste to get back inside.
Derek slowly turned back to Becca, a cold feeling creeping up his spine. "Did you just growl?"
"Derek!" Justine smacked Derek on the arm. "You said your brother came by earlier to see us. The only person who came by was a kid with a box of pretzels and some weapons. He tried to kill us."
Becca moved closer, and her eyes were narrow slits. "Get away from her, Derek."
He held up his hand to stave off his CEO for another minute and turned his full attention on Justine. "My brother is a math professor. He's not a surfer, he would never try to kill you, and I would never ask him to. I asked him to stop by, he said he forgot. I swear I'm not lying to you." Justine was a warrior. He knew she'd have no tolerance for a man who was less than her. He might not be immortal, but he'd spent his life amassing skills that made him pretty damned formidable. "I fight my own battles. Always."
Justine's gaze flickered, and then she nodded. "Okay."
"Okay." She believed him. He didn't know why it mattered so much what she thought of him, but it did. Then, he realized what she'd said. "Someone tried to kill you?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he had a knife and a gun."
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