by Lori Foster
RASPUTIN was partying on the rooftop of the Venetian, with a motley assortment of vampires, most of them scantily dressed females. It seemed to be a primary source of entertainment for the locals to drink vast quantities of alcohol-laced blood, then roof-dive down into the fake canal below. The key, he’d been told, was to move quickly once you hit the water so that no mortal noticed your impact. They would hear a splash, turn, and then you’d be gone before they could interpret what they had just seen.
It sounded humorous enough, and Rasputin was bored and agitated waiting to leave the following night for his jaunt to England to recover the necklace. If the girl was lying to him, he was going to break every bone in her delectable body. After he had his way with her.
“Come on, R,” said a brunette whose IQ probably equaled the diameter of her minuscule waist as she grabbed his hand. “Jump with me.”
“I would love to,” he told her, running his hand over her nipple and squeezing it.
She giggled.
Together they moved to the edge. Rasputin peered down at the canal. He wasn’t sure how much of a thrill this was going to be, but he was willing to give it a shot. “After you, Rebecca,” he told her.
There was the giggle again. “I’m not Rebecca. I’m Amy.”
“Whatever.”
She leaned forward like she was going to kiss him, and Rasputin moved toward her. Then the little bitch pushed him off the building.
“See you in a minute!” she called, laughing her fool head off as he tumbled down into open air.
Crossing his arms, Rasputin sighed. Maybe it was time for more sophisticated company. And while falling was mildly amusing, it was probably messing his hair up. He reached for his necklace out of habit, intending to hold it when he hit the water so he wouldn’t feel the pain of impact as much.
But his necklace wasn’t there.
Rasputin looked down at his chest, patting all over, a sudden panic arresting him. No necklace.
Then he remembered the hug from Katie a few hours earlier. Had she lifted it?
It hardly mattered. It wasn’t on him, that was the important fact. He suddenly realized that he couldn’t breathe, that he was feeling horrifically weak and mortal for the first time in a century.
A glance down past the rushing wind showed he was a second from impact.
Well, now that just totally sucked.
He closed his mouth and waited for the water, irritated as hell that he was going to die.
He hadn’t even bought Katie a wedding gift, and how rude was that?
Then he hit and all thoughts shattered just as brutally as his mortal body.
TOTAL CONTROL
L. L. FOSTER
ONE
IMPATIENCE clawed through Brax, sparking fire in his every nerve ending. After his last bloody assignment, he required her total surrender to his will. Only her heated touch, her screams of fulfillment, would salve his turmoil and save his sanity.
The cursed talent made it far too easy to get lost in eternal blackness. Lately it felt as though the depravity soaked into his pores, worming its way into his soul.
Only the most complete possession of Cameo Smithson, body and soul, would save him.
He needed her.
Desire battled with his conscience until he heard the quiet opening of his office door. His smile was one of anticipation, satisfaction.
But inside his heart the apology burned. For his benefit, he’d bring her into his private hell. If he were a stronger man, he’d do as his uncle Amos had done, and disappear from society.
He couldn’t. Knowing she was near proved an irresistible temptation.
Today he’d end the eternal wait.
For weeks he’d struggled with nonexistent patience, determined to give her enough time to acclimate to the new shift in their relationship, her new life, her new sexuality.
What they’d share would be electric and sizzling hot. It would feed him, and drain her, and only together would they both survive.
He would give her more than she’d ever experienced before. More than most could tolerate.
Cameo didn’t yet realize she was his salvation, but he’d accepted the fact months ago. Now he had to coerce her into accepting it, too.
The door closed with barely a snick of sound. He felt her heavy pause as she surveyed him standing before the yawning hole in the wall.
“Brax?”
Her voice held that tentative, cautious tone that he’d expected, the tone she’d adopted since picking up on his sexual advances.
She was right to be wary; before long he’d strip her of even that small choice. Claiming her meant obliterating her reserve. She’d be totally vulnerable to him and his whims.
Forever.
Gathering his thoughts, he continued to stare out the gaping hole in the outside office wall. On the third floor of his expansive home, the giant cavity opened to his backyard, showcasing a decorative pool, fountain, and manicured landscaping carefully arranged to look as if nature had designed it.
The upscale lifestyle helped him forget what he was, what he did, and worked to conceal his atrocious proclivities.
No one would believe that a wealthy, respected businessman would occupy his free time by demolishing brutish societal abnormalities.
Barefoot, he stood so near the edge that his toes hung over the broken bricks of the house’s exterior. A stirring breeze wafted in; he heard the trickle of the fountain, the songs of birds.
The steep drop was such that it sucked the air from his lungs.
Keeping his back to her, he commanded, “Come here, Cameo.”
He could almost hear her searching for a reply. He waited, muscles knotted, hoping for the right answer.
“I’d rather we sit down, okay?”
Something dark and destructive loosened inside him. She worried for him. His smile teased; he braced his hands at the top of the hole and leaned out, letting gravity drag at him, feeling himself grow weightless.
“Damn it, Brax,” she snapped. “Move away from there right now.”
Ah, so she tried a different tack. That was so like Cameo—adaptable, always in charge, always intelligent, thinking through possibilities and consequences.
He looked down at the yard below, and saw a few discarded bricks lying broken amid plaster dust. “I told you to come to me.”
The seconds ticked by. When he heard no movement behind him, he turned. Staying close to the edge, he took in the tantalizing sight of her. Dressed in another of the proper but alluring business suits that he’d grown to associate with her unique style, she looked … exciting.
Like salvation.
In an effort to withstand him, she locked her hands on the back of the wing chair placed before his desk. It was where she’d normally sit to take dictation.
Her innocent, baby-blue eyes closed, denying him a sight he adored, a sight that gentled him against the ugly, corruptive influence of his life. The lips he’d so often dreamed of were now compressed.
Brax understood. She felt his compulsion—but she fought it. It was as much her ability to deny him, as her other attributes, that reeled him in.
Determined to test her, Brax centered his efforts, hardened his tone. “Cameo, you will come to me. Now.”
Tensing her entire body, she shook her head.
God, but she stirred him on the most elemental levels. Her refusal caused his voice to drop to a husky whisper. “You know you want to.”
A shiver ran over her. “I’m not an idiot.” She opened her eyes, showing him stark pain and gutsy defiance. “You move away from there.”
The display of contumacy perversely thrilled him; his pulse sped, his blood heated. “No, Cameo,” he agreed, “no one would ever accuse you of lacking smarts.”
When conquering others, he often got a frisson of excitement.
But Cameo conquered him—without even knowing it.
Satisfied with her reaction, he eased back mentally, freeing her from the grip of his power. She immediately
sucked in a deep breath.
Still edgy with predacious excitement, Brax watched the lush rise of her full breasts beneath a buttoned-up blouse. The sheer material showed the lace, and the woman, beneath.
Lounging on the broken wall beside the yawning void, he studied her, taking in every nuance of her expression. “I need to locate a new contractor. As you can see”—he indicated the hole in his office wall—“I fired the last one.”
She visibly struggled for composure. “But … I’d only just hired him.”
He shrugged and waited for her to make a move.
Cameo took her time regaining her balance. Would she mention the compulsion to join him at the dangerous rupture of plaster and drywall? Would she acknowledge his attempt to use control over her?
Doubtful. Until Cameo understood and accepted his influence, she wouldn’t address the issue at all.
After today, she’d be forced to understand.
Drawing herself together in an efficient and practiced manner, she whisked aside the fallen plastic sheeting and seated herself in the chair.
Adopting a de rigueur posture, she crossed long, very shapely legs and placed her hands in her lap. The turmoil vacated her expression, replaced with query. “Why?”
Smiling at her façade of serenity, Brax moved to sit at his desk across from her. Other than his desk, and now the chair she occupied, plastic adorned everything in the room to protect it from the demolition debris.
Studying her, Brax sat back at his leisure. The ensuing conversation would no doubt prove a fun interlude before the trials he’d impress on her. “He didn’t show up on time this morning.”
“Did he have a reason?”
“Not one that he called with in advance.” He loved how myriad emotions flashed through her expressive eyes. “Cameo, you of all people know that I won’t tolerate that type of unprofessional behavior.”
“You are strict,” she admitted before turning very businesslike. “I’ll compile a list of reputable and available contractors for you to peruse. I’ll have it ready within an hour.”
“That’s not necessary.” How long would it take her to catch on? How long would it take him to convince her?
“You intend to keep that … that …” She gestured toward the sign of demolition. “That?”
“Of course not.”
“Well … surely you want it repaired sooner rather than later.”
“By the end of the week, I’ll have sliding doors and a railed balcony. The walls will be repaired, sanded, and painted.” He was not a man without influence. Enough money could solve most problems. But it couldn’t put a dent in his nightmare.
“But then … ?”
Anticipation heightened. “I’m taking care of it myself.”
Her slim eyebrows nudged closer together. “You don’t want me to handle it for you?”
Damn, but even her frowns brought about the start of a boner. Cameo’s gentle, uncorrupted, moralistic ways made the perfect foil for his life of destruction.
His voice dropped, went rough but gentle. “Henceforth, Cameo, you will no longer serve in the capacity of my personal assistant.”
She stared at him. “You’re firing me?”
“I’m relieving you of those duties. Effective immediately.”
Time stood still. For long moments, she said nothing, did nothing, didn’t break the contact of their locked gazes.
Then her head tilted and she affected a look of mere curiosity—but he saw the hurt.
He felt the hurt.
“I see.” A proud smile lifted the corners of her full lips. “I suppose I lasted longer than most.”
Brax didn’t move. If he did, he’d grab her, crush her close, absorb her into himself. “Understand Cameo, it’s because you’re different from anyone I’ve met that you’ve lasted longer.” The tension inside him tightened.
It was a craving like no other.
For her.
He put his hands on the desktop. “That’s also why you can’t remain my personal assistant.”
In a sudden burst of energy, she left the chair. She looked to be at a loss as she started for the door, but then turned back. “I guess I’m grateful you didn’t have me hire my own replacement.”
“I’ll choose someone myself. I start interviewing tomorrow.”
Anger and hurt showed before she cloaked herself behind a shield of indifference. “You have everything taken care of, then.”
“No.” Slowly, his desire for her a live, demanding thing, he left his chair and circled the desk. “Come here, Cameo.”
Her mouth quirked. “Ah, but I don’t take orders from you anymore.”
“I’m afraid you do.”
She said, “Ha!” even though he detected the many ways she strained to deny his lure.
Brax advanced ever so slowly. He hadn’t planned to, but now he needed her to understand the altruism of his motive. “I could make this easier for you, Cameo, but I’m not going to.”
“This?” Alarm took her back a step, and then she stopped and straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He couldn’t look away from her beautiful eyes. “In the long run, it’ll make you better able to accept certain things.”
“What things?” She turned and moved closer to the door before again facing him. With her hands behind her on the doorknob, she cast a nervous glance at the perilous hole in the broken wall. “You didn’t … didn’t hurt the contractor, did you?”
Brax paused to study her. “You believe I’m capable of causing him harm?”
“Oh, most definitely.” She didn’t shy away from the disturbing eye contact. “You’re capable of a great many things, not all of them good.”
Even if she didn’t comprehend the how or why of his actions, he knew she’d understood at least that much about his nature. And still she’d stayed with him, worked for him in an intimate capacity, for more than five years.
His respect for her amplified.
His desire thickened.
“You don’t fear me.” He made it a statement, not a question. His heart punched in time to the salacious images searing his brain, images of Cameo spread out beneath him, stripped naked, accepting him, all of him, in all the erotic ways he’d dreamed about.
“Sometimes I do.” Her tongue came out to moisten her bottom lip. Her proud gaze never wavered off him. “A little.”
“Please don’t.” He moved closer again, but to ensure she wouldn’t flee, he paused with several feet still between them.
If she did run, he’d catch her. They both knew it. He wouldn’t let anything interfere now that they were finally coming to terms. Too much pent-up attraction and boiling chemistry demanded she face the harsh truth about him.
Choosing his words with care, Brax said, “It’s true that, under the right circumstances, and for the right reasons, I’m capable of doing severe damage.”
“An understatement.”
Yes, she understood the core of him as a man. Amusement took him by surprise. Cameo possessed so much courage, and trusted him more than she knew.
He had an important point to make. “I promise you that anything I do to you, regardless of how you might feel about it at the time, will be for your own good.”
Those words started her trembling; her chin lifted. “Since I’m not working here anymore, it’s a moot point. I don’t expect to ever see you again.”
“Actually,” Brax corrected, “you’ll see more of me.” She started to protest and he added, “In bed and out.”
Her mouth went slack for only a moment before she laughed at him. “My God, your ego is incredible.”
The insult didn’t faze him because he knew the truth. He had to have her, and nothing would stop him. It helped that at least in this, she offered little objection. “You want me, Cameo. You have all along.”
Panic edged in. “You’re outrageous.”
“It’s okay, you know.” He put his hands in his pockets, affecti
ng a casual stance when in truth the animal side of him urged him to pounce. “I want you, too.”
True anger flashed in her eyes. “You want anything in a skirt!”
“I have …” How could he elucidate such a complicated issue? “Because of my … genetic makeup, I have an elevated … sexual need.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Stubborn woman. She was getting ahead of him and making a complex issue more difficult. “It’s based on things you don’t yet know about me. Things I will shortly explain.”
“What?” she challenged. “About your sexual addiction?”
“No.” God knew, there wasn’t an easy way to disclose the truth. “Not an addiction, per se, but I do feed off corporeal exertion.”
“Sex?”
With a shrug, he moved closer. “Soon, I’ll feed off you.”
She spun around to leave.
“Don’t.”
The single word froze her. Keeping her back to him, her spine taut, she whispered, “Or what?”
His every muscle rippled with eagerness. “You will likely regret it.” Blood rushed to his groin; his erection throbbed. More softly, as a promise and a warning, he stated, “But I won’t.”
Her shuddering, indrawn breath brought a shimmer to her shoulders seconds before she attempted to jerk open the door.
Already knowing how he’d stop her, Brax stared at her shapely back from the proud shoulders, the narrowed waist, that lush, curvy ass. A conflagration of heat scorched him as he summoned his considerable concentration for a talent known only to an elite few, unimagined by most.
He shouldn’t enjoy this, but regardless of his aberrant ability, he remained a man.
And he had lusted after her for a very long time.
Application of the productive method he’d devised exclusively for Cameo would, as usual, be devastating in effect. But this time, it would be without real harm—except maybe to her pride and modesty.
As he connected with her emotionally, she stopped. He took her feelings, distorted them for his own purpose, and gave them back to her.
It served the desired effect immediately; her back arched a little, and she clung to the doorknob as her knees weakened.
