“Won’t you come up?”
“Yes, of course.”
He guided her to the elevators, his hand never far from the small of her back. She had a strong sense that if an attack came, he would pull her against him with one hand and with the other draw a weapon.
That she was the object of such protective instincts sent ripples of pleasure through her abdomen. Again, her body clenched even when she didn’t want it to. She wished just this once, while in his presence, she could calm the hell down.
As the elevator doors closed and they were the only ones in it, she heard him grunt strangely, a sound followed by a very faint grinding. Teeth upon teeth?
A moment later the small space flooded with a cloud of fennel. She listed sideways, falling against the wall of the elevator. Worse followed when he clamped his arm around her waist to support her.
She gave a squeak and pushed his hand away. She took a step forward trying to create distance, a hopeless venture inside the stainless-steel box.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low, husky, one resonant seductive thrall.
“Please don’t touch me again, Warrior.”
He backed away. In the shiny metal that surrounded the elevator buttons, she saw that he had moved into the far corner and stared at her from beneath hooded eyes. More fennel wafted around her.
Oh, God. Coming to Seattle was a serious mistake.
The wheel came from the land of Sumer as did the first vampire, Luchianne.
—From Treatise on Ascension, by Philippe Reynard
CHAPTER 5
Marcus had never suffered in quite this way before. When he knew, when he had sensed that Havily was in the building, his building, the building he owned, he had experienced desire, confusion, urgency. He had not thought much beyond his need to make sure she was safe and that his building remained secure.
However, the moment he saw her, the moment he smelled her, the molecules in his body had realigned and sent every instinct in the direction of his groin and his need to bond with her. That absurd imperative had swamped him, screaming at him to get inside her, to release his seed into her, to take her blood, to penetrate her mind, all at the same time, to make her his, now and forever.
He knew she watched him from the reflection of the chrome plate around the elevator buttons, but did she have any idea how her honeysuckle scent now filled the shared space and worked his cock into a state of hard readiness?
He had a couch in his office. Hell, he had two. Fuck that. He had a glass desk the size of a small barge. He’d clear it with a sweep of his arm and throw her on her back. He’d …
He closed his eyes, flared his nostrils, and dragged her scent into his nose. One stroke, he’d come. Fucking breh-hedden.
“Why the hell are you here?” left his throat in a hoarse mess.
“We … we have matters to discuss. You know we do and I want this … thing between us settled once and for all.”
And exactly how did she plan to do that? The image of her on her back and him on top made the only kind of sense.
When the doors opened he moved up behind her. He knew he crowded her but he couldn’t help it. His protective instinct was firing off missiles. He had his arm around her waist as he moved to the door to his suite.
He opened the door for her. He barely saw Jane as he ushered Havily into his office. He barked over his shoulder to his assistant, “We’re not to be disturbed. For any reason.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” returned in a sharp stunned whisper.
He shut the door and wasn’t surprised when Havily hurried past his desk to the opposite corner of the office near the windows. He watched her shoulders rise and fall rapidly.
Goddamn the breh-hedden. They were both held in a tight grip. Worse, the dreams had revealed exactly what she looked like naked, and that’s all he saw as he looked her up and down. He’d cupped her ass in his hands. She may be wearing a tailored navy wool suit, but he knew what
“Yes, of course.”
He guided her to the elevators, his hand never far from the small of her back. She had a strong sense that if an attack came, he would pull her against him with one hand and with the other draw a weapon.
That she was the object of such protective instincts sent ripples of pleasure through her abdomen. Again, her body clenched even when she didn’t want it to. She wished just this once, while in his presence, she could calm the hell down.
As the elevator doors closed and they were the only ones in it, she heard him grunt strangely, a sound followed by a very faint grinding. Teeth upon teeth?
A moment later the small space flooded with a cloud of fennel. She listed sideways, falling against the wall of the elevator. Worse followed when he clamped his arm around her waist to support her.
She gave a squeak and pushed his hand away. She took a step forward trying to create distance, a hopeless venture inside the stainless-steel box.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low, husky, one resonant seductive thrall.
“Please don’t touch me again, Warrior.”
He backed away. In the shiny metal that surrounded the elevator buttons, she saw that he had moved into the far corner and stared at her from beneath hooded eyes. More fennel wafted around her.
Oh, God. Coming to Seattle was a serious mistake.
The wheel came from the land of Sumer as did the first vampire, Luchianne.
—From Treatise on Ascension, by Philippe Reynard
CHAPTER 5
Marcus had never suffered in quite this way before. When he knew, when he had sensed that Havily was in the building, his building, the building he owned, he had experienced desire, confusion, urgency. He had not thought much beyond his need to make sure she was safe and that his building remained secure.
However, the moment he saw her, the moment he smelled her, the molecules in his body had realigned and sent every instinct in the direction of his groin and his need to bond with her. That absurd imperative had swamped him, screaming at him to get inside her, to release his seed into her, to take her blood, to penetrate her mind, all at the same time, to make her his, now and forever.
He knew she watched him from the reflection of the chrome plate around the elevator buttons, but did she have any idea how her honeysuckle scent now filled the shared space and worked his cock into a state of hard readiness?
He had a couch in his office. Hell, he had two. Fuck that. He had a glass desk the size of a small barge. He’d clear it with a sweep of his arm and throw her on her back. He’d …
He closed his eyes, flared his nostrils, and dragged her scent into his nose. One stroke, he’d come. Fucking breh-hedden.
“Why the hell are you here?” left his throat in a hoarse mess.
“We … we have matters to discuss. You know we do and I want this … thing between us settled once and for all.”
And exactly how did she plan to do that? The image of her on her back and him on top made the only kind of sense.
When the doors opened he moved up behind her. He knew he crowded her but he couldn’t help it. His protective instinct was firing off missiles. He had his arm around her waist as he moved to the door to his suite.
He opened the door for her. He barely saw Jane as he ushered Havily into his office. He barked over his shoulder to his assistant, “We’re not to be disturbed. For any reason.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” returned in a sharp stunned whisper.
He shut the door and wasn’t surprised when Havily hurried past his desk to the opposite corner of the office near the windows. He watched her shoulders rise and fall rapidly.
Goddamn the breh-hedden. They were both held in a tight grip. Worse, the dreams had revealed exactly what she looked like naked, and that’s all he saw as he looked her up and down. He’d cupped her ass in his hands. She may be wearing a tailored navy wool suit, but he knew what
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