Dark Legend by Christine Feehan Page B

neck where his pulse beat so strongly.
    The lure of it was sharp and tempting. She was exhausted from her energy-draining work. More than that, more than the call of her depleted cells crying out for nourishment, was a new addiction to his taste. He held her so gently, so possessively, so protectively. He was heat and light, safety and companionship. He made her feel complete. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, taking just a moment to rest her head against his shoulder. Her mouth was against his bare skin, the material of his shirt brushing against her cheek. He was so close. His skin. Her skin. His blood surged and flowed, beckoned to her.
    "You are so tired, Francesco. Please give me the honor of doing this small thing for you. I will not take it as a surrender. I know your mind. You have not attempted to deceive me in any way. I fed well this night." His whispered words were a seduction, a temptation; he was a dark sorcerer brushing at her mind like the touch of butterfly wings.
    Francesca merged with his warmth, both physically and mentally. The feel of his body so close, so protective, next to hers was a gift. When had a man held her in arms of steel? When had a body, so hard, so defined with masculine muscle and sinew, sheltered her close?
    "Why didn't he respond when I commanded him to leave?" That had surprised her, even alarmed her. She had promised the child. It had never happened before. Humans had always listened and obeyed the "push" in her voice.
    Gabriel recognized her distress, understood that she judged herself less than him, a failure. "You are of the light, my love. I am the darkness itself. Thompson was wholly evil. You can restrain and delay evil, but you cannot completely touch its core because you cannot connect with it. Most humans are both good and evil. Not pure evil. You can connect with them because you can touch that which is good. I have the demon in me; it is my nature. He resides there, crouched low, waiting to leap out when I forget to leash him. I know evil every day of my existence. When you control it every day, it is not such a great feat to destroy it." Gabriel dismissed his actions easily. "You are not less than I, Francesca. You have never been less. You saved lives and I took them. Who is the greater?"
    Her slender arms crept up around his neck seemingly of their own accord. "You saved our people. You saved the human race. Not once, but decade after decade. It was your nature that allowed you to do so." Her voice whispered over him, a soft sound of admiration, a seduction in itself.
    The faint stubble on his jaw caught the silken strands of her hair as he rubbed his chin on the top of her head in a little caress. "You must feed, honey. You are drooping with weariness." His coaxed her gently.
    "Brice is right outside the door. They've given up on saving Thompson. He'll be in any moment." Her soft voice brushed his body like her fingers, producing a savage, unrelenting ache, but Gabriel kept himself strictly under control. She needed to be held, to be comforted, to be taken care of, not assaulted.
    "Take what you need, I am quite capable of sustaining an illusion for humans." There was a faint husky note in his voice, one that was aching and lonely, turning her heart over. He needed the intimacy of providing for her as much as she needed the nourishment.
    Almost blindly Francesca turned her face into his throat, inhaled the spicy masculine scent of him. His heart beat strongly, in rhythm with hers. The blood ebbed and flowed in his veins calling to her, an enticement. The warmth of her breath against his skin heightened his pulse, tightened his body to such a painful ache, he clenched his teeth in response, his hand bunching in the thickness of her hair.
    Her mouth moved over his skin, soft, sensuous, seductive. At once need slammed into Gabriel so hard it shook his entire frame so that he trembled with urgent desire. Her teeth scraped once over his pulse, her tongue swirled in a