wonderful,” she murmured, her eyes already drifting shut. “Beyond my dreams.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “You sound as though you don’t think it will last.”
“I don’t know what “it” is, yet. But I can’t stay here forever.” She yawned and rolled on her side. “I do have a job.”
“You could stay here. I could take care of you.” Not usually given to impulse in his dealings with the opposite sex, nevertheless his offer felt right.
“As in live together?”
“Yes.” More sure by the second.
“Let’s wait and see what happens. I don’t want to make a mistake.” She grinned. “And we’ve only known each other for twenty-four hours. You don’t even know whether I snore or not.”
“Fair enough. The offer is on the table. Get some sleep.”
Dylan leaned down to kiss her, expecting to give her lips a quick buss, but Emmy’s tongue sneaked out to lick his lower lip. He crushed his mouth to hers for another of their tongue-dueling matches.
Finally, he pulled back, disengaging her hands, which were twisting in his hair. He rose from the bed.
“Promise you’ll wake me,” she said.
“I will.”
* * * * *
As he drove to the estate of the council member he’d petitioned, Dylan held the pleasant thought of waking Emmy from her sleep. Would he wake her slowly with gentle kisses and soothing glides of his hands, or would he come inside her, fast and hard? Both choices offered delicious possibilities.
Navarro’s estate wasn’t far from Dylan’s place. As Dylan’s rented car climbed the slopes of the exclusive neighborhood roads, the lights of the city below flickered like a thousand stars.
Dylan stopped at the tall brick and wrought iron gate and typed the password into the keypad. While the gates swung open on quiet hinges, he girded himself for a frustrating evening.
Navarro met him at the front steps and led him through his house to the study. Navarro had always had money—ever since his human boyhood in Spain. And he was a collector. His furnishings—heavy dark oak furniture, plush Middle Eastern carpets, Italian and Dutch paintings—had taken centuries to accumulate.
Candlelight illuminated the dark-paneled study. One of Navarro’s many eccentricities was an aversion to the harsh glare of electrical lighting. He invited Dylan to have a seat before the fire and poured them drinks.
While Navarro swirled his brandy, Dylan watched his narrow, European features for any sense of where the conversation might lead. Navarro was typically cryptic in his communication, giving away nothing.
Of course, he’d had centuries longer than Dylan to cloak his emotions.
Finally, Navarro glanced up. “Son, what is it you wish to speak to me about?” His hand passed through the air in a diffident wave, granting permission for their conversation to begin.
Dylan shifted in his seat. “Father,” he replied, addressing his sire formally. “I believe one of our inner circle is siring an army.”
Navarro’s thin lips curved only slightly at the corners. “Is there to be a war?”
Dylan simmered with resentment at Navarro’s subtle mockery. “Nicky is turning young people at a frightening rate. Our human friends in the police force can’t keep up the fiction they’re gang-related killings for long.”
“Nicky has acted imprudently. My emissary will speak to him.” Navarro’s words were measured and spoken in an even tone.
Irritated, Dylan bit back his temper. “It’s not enough. He won’t stop.”
“Is the situation truly unsalvageable, Dylan?” Navarro’s sloe-shaped brown eyes met his gaze directly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the woman you harbor in your home?”
Of course, Navarro would know he had a houseguest.
Dylan drew in a deep breath. “I’ve marked her as mine.” Once proclaimed, there was no going back. “Nicky isn’t honoring my right of possession.”
Navarro nodded. “Congratulations. It has been long since you’ve
He sat on the edge of the bed. “You sound as though you don’t think it will last.”
“I don’t know what “it” is, yet. But I can’t stay here forever.” She yawned and rolled on her side. “I do have a job.”
“You could stay here. I could take care of you.” Not usually given to impulse in his dealings with the opposite sex, nevertheless his offer felt right.
“As in live together?”
“Yes.” More sure by the second.
“Let’s wait and see what happens. I don’t want to make a mistake.” She grinned. “And we’ve only known each other for twenty-four hours. You don’t even know whether I snore or not.”
“Fair enough. The offer is on the table. Get some sleep.”
Dylan leaned down to kiss her, expecting to give her lips a quick buss, but Emmy’s tongue sneaked out to lick his lower lip. He crushed his mouth to hers for another of their tongue-dueling matches.
Finally, he pulled back, disengaging her hands, which were twisting in his hair. He rose from the bed.
“Promise you’ll wake me,” she said.
“I will.”
* * * * *
As he drove to the estate of the council member he’d petitioned, Dylan held the pleasant thought of waking Emmy from her sleep. Would he wake her slowly with gentle kisses and soothing glides of his hands, or would he come inside her, fast and hard? Both choices offered delicious possibilities.
Navarro’s estate wasn’t far from Dylan’s place. As Dylan’s rented car climbed the slopes of the exclusive neighborhood roads, the lights of the city below flickered like a thousand stars.
Dylan stopped at the tall brick and wrought iron gate and typed the password into the keypad. While the gates swung open on quiet hinges, he girded himself for a frustrating evening.
Navarro met him at the front steps and led him through his house to the study. Navarro had always had money—ever since his human boyhood in Spain. And he was a collector. His furnishings—heavy dark oak furniture, plush Middle Eastern carpets, Italian and Dutch paintings—had taken centuries to accumulate.
Candlelight illuminated the dark-paneled study. One of Navarro’s many eccentricities was an aversion to the harsh glare of electrical lighting. He invited Dylan to have a seat before the fire and poured them drinks.
While Navarro swirled his brandy, Dylan watched his narrow, European features for any sense of where the conversation might lead. Navarro was typically cryptic in his communication, giving away nothing.
Of course, he’d had centuries longer than Dylan to cloak his emotions.
Finally, Navarro glanced up. “Son, what is it you wish to speak to me about?” His hand passed through the air in a diffident wave, granting permission for their conversation to begin.
Dylan shifted in his seat. “Father,” he replied, addressing his sire formally. “I believe one of our inner circle is siring an army.”
Navarro’s thin lips curved only slightly at the corners. “Is there to be a war?”
Dylan simmered with resentment at Navarro’s subtle mockery. “Nicky is turning young people at a frightening rate. Our human friends in the police force can’t keep up the fiction they’re gang-related killings for long.”
“Nicky has acted imprudently. My emissary will speak to him.” Navarro’s words were measured and spoken in an even tone.
Irritated, Dylan bit back his temper. “It’s not enough. He won’t stop.”
“Is the situation truly unsalvageable, Dylan?” Navarro’s sloe-shaped brown eyes met his gaze directly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the woman you harbor in your home?”
Of course, Navarro would know he had a houseguest.
Dylan drew in a deep breath. “I’ve marked her as mine.” Once proclaimed, there was no going back. “Nicky isn’t honoring my right of possession.”
Navarro nodded. “Congratulations. It has been long since you’ve
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