Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Antonietta took the chair facing his. The warmth of the fire reached her and took away the chill of the aftermath of fear. “When you put it like that, I’ll admit it doesn’t sound right, but business is what keeps our family and our lands. Nonno is having a much more difficult time remembering details. I’ve had to stop him several times from signing something that would have cost us an enormous amount of money. Fortunately, we have great lawyers, and Justine reads everything to me so we have a net, but without me listening in, we could have problems.” Her sigh was loud in the quiet of the room. The rain outside fell softly on the French doors, matching her melancholy mood. “I had hoped that Paul would take an interest in the company.”

  There was something very sexy about sitting naked in front of the fireplace. She could feel his gaze, hot and intent and entirely focused on her.

  “I would worry that perhaps he has taken an interest in the company. The gun was aimed at you.”

  “It was an accident. I know it was. Paul has admitted he made terrible mistakes. He owes money to people who he says will get rough if he can’t pay them back. He bought a gun but didn’t really know how to use it. I spoke with Justine—”

  Byron nodded. “Ah, yes, the loyal and trustworthy Justine.”

  Antonietta frowned at him. “These people are my family, Byron. I know you’ve been wonderful about not going to the authorities and reporting Paul. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. He would go to prison, and we both know he wouldn’t stand a chance there.” Without conscious thought, she leaned her head back, the action jutting her generous breasts toward him. “You should have seen him when we were young. I wish you could have known him. He has a brilliant mind, and he was so wonderful as a boy. His father stripped him of all self-confidence and the will to even try. Adults certainly have a way of ruining children.”

  For the first time Byron laughed. “That is the truth. My sister took in a boy a few years ago. He is proving quite a handful. Eleanor, of course, thinks he is an angel and indulges his every whim.” He couldn’t resist the silent invitation, his hand cupping the weight of one breast in his hand, his thumb caressing the tempting peak.

  “You have a sister?” She was surprised. He never talked of his past or his future. And he never talked of his family. “That man the other night, Jacques, said you had family in the area.” Her entire body was hypersensitive. She never wanted him to stop. She needed his touch, the way he always seemed to have to touch her. It was addicting.

  “Did you think my parents found me under a rock? I have in-laws as well.” Reluctantly, Byron let her go, leaned back, stretched his legs toward the fire, and watched the way the flickering light played over her face and body. “You have beautiful skin.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Personal observations made Antonietta uncomfortable.

  She was startled by the honesty in his voice. It was impossible to keep pleasure from rising. “Grazie. It’s nice to know that.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “Eleanor lost several children, and it was very hard on her. She had one son and managed to raise him into a reasonably decent man. You would like him. Vlad, Eleanor’s life mate, took him firmly in hand when Eleanor would get too carried away with spoiling him.”

  “Why don’t you use the term husband? You always say lifemate.”

  “In my language, in my people’s world, we refer to our other half as lifemate. Unlike the Jaguar, we mate for life and beyond. Not for momentary pleasure. We consider the art of making love and keeping our mate happy to be a lifelong commitment.”

  There was something very wicked in his voice, almost a challenge. She had the feeling he was smiling. Antonietta decided discretion was the better part of valor. “So you have a nephew, too.” She was all too aware of his fingers stroking her skin. His thumb slid over her inner wrist. She had no idea how sensitive a wrist could be. Her insides instantly melted.

  “Yes, Eleanor managed to carry a son. Benjamin. Benj was—is—a miracle to all of us. He is shaping up quite nicely, and we are all very proud of him. My family is of the crafts. Benj prefers to work with gemstones just as I always have. I would love to take you to the caves where you could pick a gem from the walls of the cavern.” There was a note of longing in his voice.

  “I would love to go to a cave with you. Do you still make jewelry?”

  “I have plans to begin again, now that I have found you. Looking at you sitting there with your hair spilling around you and the firelight dancing over your breasts, you inspire me. I would make a necklace of fire and ice to lay around your throat.”

  His tone created a very real sensation of cool gems on her skin, so much so that she reached to touch her throat, expecting to find a necklace of gold, diamonds, and rubies. “I would love to have something you designed.”

  “I will make you something beautiful to go with your skin and hair. It would be such a pleasure for me.”

  “Your nephew makes jewelry?” Antonietta loved feeling his eyes on her. She didn’t need sight to know he was watching her. She was past embarrassment. She wanted his gaze on her. She wanted him to feel ravenous hunger for her. She was feeling it for him. It was even becoming difficult to keep her mind on the conversation. She was too busy thinking of straddling him right there in the chair in front of the fireplace.

  “My understanding is he has begun to work as an apprentice. I have not seen him in some time. But Eleanor also has young Josef, and he is another story altogether. His birth mother was quite old when she had him, and she died within an hour of his birth. Eleanor and Vlad immediately offered to take him. Deidre, Vlad’s sister, and her lifemate, Tienn, were chosen at first to watch over him, but Deidre lost so many children Tienn was afraid it would prove to be too much if the baby did not survive. It is very hard on the parents when they lose so many children. Many of our children do not survive beyond the first few months.”

  “I couldn’t imagine losing Margurite and she isn’t even my child,” Antonietta said. “How sad for your sister and sister-in-law. So many people have children who really don’t want them, and yet so many want them that can’t have them.”

  “What about you? Do you want children?”

  She shrugged. “There was a time I dreamt of having children. I think most women do, Byron, but I had responsibilities, and my career was taking off. I didn’t find a man who appealed to me as a lifetime partner and, although I considered raising a child on my own, I decided it would be cheating the child. I often go on tours, I’m in demand when one of my operas is chosen, and I am always involved in my family’s business. It leaves little time for a child.”

  “I see.”

  For some reason Antonietta immediately felt defensive. It was a silly reaction, when his words held no inflection whatsoever, but she had the feeling he was misinterpreting things she said. Over the years, she had learned to live without sight, judging reactions by voices and even tension in the air, but she couldn’t do that with Byron, and it made her feel vulnerable and off balance. She pulled her hand out of his, aware he could feel her pulse jumping in her wrist. “Do you? That would be a miracle, when few people have a clue what my life has been like.”

  “But then I am not most people, am I?” There was the merest trace of mocking amusement in his voice.

  “No, you’re not,” she agreed. “You are someone very special. If you are not Jaguar and you are not quite human, what are you? What exactly? And don’t just put me off with some strange answer that doesn’t make sense.”

  “I am Carpathian, of the mountains in that region. My people are as old as time and we are of the earth. You have your legends of vampires and werewolves and jaguars, and we belong to that realm.” He answered honestly in the way of lifemates. His gaze didn’t leave her face, judging her expression there in the darkness.

  “I know you’re different, Byron. It’s funny, I can accept the thought of Jaguars so easily, but a werewolf or vampire seems preposterous.” She laughed softly at herself. “
Why would that be? Why would my mind so easily accept one as reality but refuse to give the possibility of credence to the other?”

  “A Carpathian is neither werewolf nor vampire. We are a species of people near extinction and fighting for our place in the world.”

  She turned his words over carefully in her mind, examining them for signs of a hidden meaning. “Are you like either of those species? You must be a shape-shifter just as a Jaguar is. I’ve done a tremendous amount of research on the legends and mythology of the Jaguar people. Can you shift your shape? I can’t. I feel it reaching for me, and I know its somewhere inside of me, but on command, I can’t really do it. I have summoned the power of the creature but never really managed to bring the power out all the way.”

  “Yes, I can shift.”

  She hadn’t really expected him to admit it. The idea was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. She took a deep breath. “Can you fly?”

  “Yes. You know I can. I didn’t erase your memory of it.”

  She was in the dark, where she had grown most comfortable, and she waited there for several heartbeats in silence to give her mind time to assimilate what he was telling her. Flying. Her heart soared at the idea of it, even when her human mind set limitations. “That would be such an enormous gift.” Her lashes lifted. She couldn’t see him, but she looked directly at him. “For a gift so wonderful, there must be a terrible price.”

  Byron looked at her and wanted to laugh. She was sitting across from him. His lifemate. Her bare skin gleaming in the firelight. His world of color dancing in front of his eyes. His emotions so raw and intense he could barely control them. What price had he paid? Centuries of a bleak existence. A world of gray and despair. The relentless whisper of evil calling to him. The endless minutes and hours and days and years of being truly alone. Her very existence had wiped it all away in a moment.

  “I live, Antonietta. I have a way of life, and I live it. It is neither good nor bad to me to be the way I am. I simply am. I accept who I am, and I am proud of my people. We have honor and loyalty and many other traits of strength, but we also have weaknesses just as any race. I cannot walk in the sun. It would harm me. That is why I cannot be with you to guard you through certain hours of the day.” His voice was very matter-of-fact. “I see beauty in the night, it is my world, my existence, and I love it. I want to share my world with you so you are never afraid in it. So you see its beauty for yourself and not just for me.”

  Antonietta didn’t know if it was what he said to her or how he said it, but she melted inside. Craved him. Wanted to wrap herself up inside of him, deep in his heart and soul. And she wanted to see his world and experience it. His voice nearly purred when he called the night beautiful. She lived in darkness, and she wanted to see it that way.

  Antonietta couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. She simply stood and took the few steps to stand in front of him. Byron didn’t disappoint her. He reached for her just as she imagined he would, his hand sliding up her thigh, caressing the inside of her leg with graceful, expert fingers. Her body responded instantly with a heated liquid welcome, an eager anticipation of the sheer magic waiting for her.

  His hands urged her closer, and she went, standing between his legs while his palm found her wet channel, pressing heavily in exploration. Flashes of light burst behind her eyes, a show of brilliant color, while her body pulsed with pleasure. His finger slipped inside, and her muscles clenched around him.

  “When I’m with you, Byron, you make me feel like I can fly with you.” She had to catch his head for balance when her legs threatened to give out. Her hips pushed against his hand, wanting more, wanting him.

  Impatient, she simply moved forward, straddling his thighs so that he had no choice but to remove his hand and allow her what she most needed. Her hunger was rising rapidly, almost ravenous, an insatiable appetite that could only be appeased momentarily. She settled her body over his. He was thick and hard and pierced her sheath slowly, filling her, stretching her, until the tight friction was incredible and perfect and everything she wanted.

  Her breasts brushed his chest, her hair fell in wild abandon as she began to move with her dancing rhythm, with all the volcanic passion inside of her, waiting for him, waiting for Byron. She rode him hard and fast, slow and leisurely, giving them both exquisite pleasure. She heard sounds. The wind. The beat of her heart. Whispers somewhere far off. She felt everything. The texture of his skin, the shape of his bones, the definition of his muscles, and the endless rush of an orgasm that rocked their world in complete harmony.

  9

  “I think your family is getting restless,” Byron said, possessively wrapping his arms around her. He could hear them, the continual whispers. Her cousins wanted someone to check on Antonietta but were afraid to approach her.

  She snuggled against his chest. “It’s very strange, but I can hear everything they say as if I were in the same room with them. My hearing has always been very good. I thought it was a result of my being blind or perhaps being a descendent of the Jaguar people.” There was a hint of a question in her tone.

  “I want to take some time to really read the history of the Jaguar people. I think it is very pertinent to my people. I have all kinds of questions for you, but I guess they can wait. I have had you to myself for some time, and I cannot blame the others for growing so restless.” He leaned down, brushed silken strands of hair from her face. Bent even lower to feather kisses along her chin and down her throat to the inviting swell of her breast.

  Antonietta closed her eyes as ripples of pleasure assaulted her from the inside out. She loved every moment with him. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the way he made her feel. She could listen to the sound of his voice forever. And she reveled in his touch. “My hearing is getting better.” Now there was amusement in her voice.

  “It is a good thing. Someone is approaching your door. I would not want you to be caught unawares in such a compromising position.” His mouth closed over her breast, and the heat and fire exploded through her body.

  The knock on her door was soft. “Antonietta. Please let me in. We have to talk. You must allow me to explain. Surely our friendship over the years earns me that much.”

  Antonietta stiffened at the sound of Justine’s pleading voice. Byron lifted his head alertly, leaned over to kiss her gently. “They are going to insist on seeing you.”

  “Antonietta, please. You must let me explain. Paul is devastated over this. Your entire family is in distress. Please open the door.”

  Antonietta winced when Justine said her cousin’s name, a physical blow to the pit of her stomach, making her feel ill. “I don’t want to see any of them. I don’t know what I’m feeling toward them right now,” she whispered and buried her face in his neck, waiting for Justine to go away.

  “She hurt you. She hurt you more than Paul did.” Byron stroked back the mass of silken hair from her face.

  “Paul’s weak. He indulges his self-pity, and I’ve come to expect that of him. But Justine is strong, a leader, and she’s always been my most trusted confidante. She took something important from me that I’ll never be able to regain. The worst of it is, she doesn’t even realize it. What she meant to me is not what I was to her.” Antonietta listened to the retreating footsteps. “In all honesty, I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. When I think about it, I end up crying. Don’t you hate emotions? They just mess everything up.”

  Byron feathered kisses in her hair. “You have always had emotions. I was without them for some time. I prefer to feel sentiment, any sensation, even if it is in excess.”

  “Even betrayal? Even pain?”

  “At least you are capable of loving enough to feel love and betrayal. In any case, I believe Justine will come to regret her actions, and she understands what she lost between you. How could she not?” He lifted her chin to kiss her mouth lightly. “They are whispering together.”

  “How is it we can hear them, Byron? They’re downst
airs. In the conservatory, I think. Why would we be able to hear them? And why don’t they all go to bed and leave me alone?”

  “Because, cara, you are important to them, and they love you. They are only showing their concern.”

  “Well, I wish, just for this one night, they would leave us alone.”

  The second set of footsteps, this time undeniably determined, was coming up the stairs. They listened as the door was approached. This time the knock was authoritative. “Antonietta. Cara mia, you must open the door for me at once, or I’ll use the master key I’ve collected from Helena and open it. I mean it. I must see that you’re all right. You don’t have to talk to me, but you must allow me into your room. You’re scaring Nonno and the children.” Tasha was very firm.

  “She’ll open the door, too. Tasha would never bluff. I haven’t a stitch on and the room is…Well, it’s obvious what we’ve been doing.” Antonietta panicked.

  Byron waved a hand toward the bathroom. At once there was the sound of running water coming from Antonietta’s private bath. The heady scent of their lovemaking dissipated, to be replaced by the fragrance of her favorite bath salt. Byron bent his head, took his time kissing her thoroughly. “You take a nice, refreshing bath. I know you have been secretly longing for one. I will let Tasha in and keep her occupied until you feel up to facing her.”

  Antonietta slipped from his lap. “Well, please put your clothes on. I don’t want her suddenly thinking you’re so hot she has to have you. Grazie. You amaze me how thoughtful you are.” It was a measure of how upset she was with her family that she allowed him to handle the details, that she would allow him to meet with her cousin alone while she bathed in the adjoining room.

  Byron waited until Antonietta had closed the door to the bath before sauntering over to the door. Another wave of his hand made the bed and clothed him in the way of his people. He pulled open the door just as Tasha thrust the key in the lock.

  Tasha screamed, a cry of shock and horror. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. “We all thought you were dead.” Her voice came out a whisper. “Thank the good Dio Paul didn’t kill you.”