him.
She didn’t want him tasting anyone else? A fission of pleasure spasmed along his spine. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “A long time ago, my sweet, and never again.” The last three words startled him, but he knew it was true.
He didn’t want to sample any others. The finest Bordeaux in the world flowed in her veins. If he could never nip from that cask again, he would not desire a pale imitation.
Jeannie frowned. “I shouldn’t ask you those kind of questions. I’m sorry…”
“No. You should.” Malcolm slid his fingers up to cup her face, tilting her head back to gaze into her eyes. He dipped his own head to taste her lips. Long seconds passed. Her heart thudded once and her fingers crept up his arms to wrap around his neck. Malcolm pressed closer, probing her mouth with his tongue.
A groan slipped free when her tongue tangled with his. His fingers stroked her cheeks, urging her mouth wider. He could spend hours kissing her. The little gasps for air softened the hard ball of anger in his gut. Her body molded to his, soft and curvy where he was hard and long.
The twin scents of bitter and sour citrus evaporated. Sweet, rich cream, vanilla and scotch filled his senses. She tasted of the wine, the hints of chocolate and oak scorching his palate.
When his fangs extended, he pulled back, careful not to bite at her delicate flesh. Eyes drowsy with passion regarded him. Her pulse hip-hopped under his fingers. His body hungered for more.
Breath whooshed out of him. “You are so damn beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Malcolm laughed. The amusement rumbled up from his chest, effectively puncturing through the tension. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me beautiful until you.”
“Well, then they didn’t know what they were looking at. Your eyes are amazing.”
“Only when they look at you.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. His fangs retreated. “My darling Jeannie, you told me you wanted my help.”
“Yes?”
Malcolm drifted back a few inches, dropping back to one knee and taking both of her hands in his. “Will you allow me to serve as your champion, my lady?” The old language rolled off his tongue, a half-forgotten memory of more chivalrous times. He was a warrior at heart, a warrior armed with the weapons of law and justice, shielded with the desire to protect. He was an attorney now, but that was a new role. The warrior suited him far more. He wanted to do more than just help Jeannie.
He wanted to spring Pandora from her box. He wanted to save her.
“Malcolm, I can’t ask you to do that. If this was a trap and they worked so hard to bring me in, what if they aren’t willing to let me go? The Overseers—they’re dangerous…”
“You already asked it of me, my darling. You must only accept my service and my pledge. I will be your champion. Let me slay this dragon for you.”
His gaze caressed the lines of her face, descending to rest on the perfect white teeth biting at her lower lip. He ached to slide his tongue along that lip, to taste all of her.
“Say yes, my lady.” In all his years of service, he’d never once considered begging for the privilege. But regardless of her answer, Malcolm would not leave her to this place, to that horrible fate. She would walk free in the sun again.
“Yes.”
Two hours later, Malcolm sat on the edge of the lounge. Lethargy stole through him, his body’s natural alarm to the sun’s imminent rise weighed heavily in his bones long before the shutters on the suite’s windows began to snap close. He held Jeannie’s hand in his, cradling the slender fingers and stroking the soft skin. As much as he’d ached to make love to her, he’d spent the last two hours interrogating every aspect of the story. He memorized the why behind her trip to Hollywood, the names of the people she’d told, her family lineage and who she could remember from the bus trip.
Malcolm devoured the
She didn’t want him tasting anyone else? A fission of pleasure spasmed along his spine. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “A long time ago, my sweet, and never again.” The last three words startled him, but he knew it was true.
He didn’t want to sample any others. The finest Bordeaux in the world flowed in her veins. If he could never nip from that cask again, he would not desire a pale imitation.
Jeannie frowned. “I shouldn’t ask you those kind of questions. I’m sorry…”
“No. You should.” Malcolm slid his fingers up to cup her face, tilting her head back to gaze into her eyes. He dipped his own head to taste her lips. Long seconds passed. Her heart thudded once and her fingers crept up his arms to wrap around his neck. Malcolm pressed closer, probing her mouth with his tongue.
A groan slipped free when her tongue tangled with his. His fingers stroked her cheeks, urging her mouth wider. He could spend hours kissing her. The little gasps for air softened the hard ball of anger in his gut. Her body molded to his, soft and curvy where he was hard and long.
The twin scents of bitter and sour citrus evaporated. Sweet, rich cream, vanilla and scotch filled his senses. She tasted of the wine, the hints of chocolate and oak scorching his palate.
When his fangs extended, he pulled back, careful not to bite at her delicate flesh. Eyes drowsy with passion regarded him. Her pulse hip-hopped under his fingers. His body hungered for more.
Breath whooshed out of him. “You are so damn beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Malcolm laughed. The amusement rumbled up from his chest, effectively puncturing through the tension. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me beautiful until you.”
“Well, then they didn’t know what they were looking at. Your eyes are amazing.”
“Only when they look at you.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. His fangs retreated. “My darling Jeannie, you told me you wanted my help.”
“Yes?”
Malcolm drifted back a few inches, dropping back to one knee and taking both of her hands in his. “Will you allow me to serve as your champion, my lady?” The old language rolled off his tongue, a half-forgotten memory of more chivalrous times. He was a warrior at heart, a warrior armed with the weapons of law and justice, shielded with the desire to protect. He was an attorney now, but that was a new role. The warrior suited him far more. He wanted to do more than just help Jeannie.
He wanted to spring Pandora from her box. He wanted to save her.
“Malcolm, I can’t ask you to do that. If this was a trap and they worked so hard to bring me in, what if they aren’t willing to let me go? The Overseers—they’re dangerous…”
“You already asked it of me, my darling. You must only accept my service and my pledge. I will be your champion. Let me slay this dragon for you.”
His gaze caressed the lines of her face, descending to rest on the perfect white teeth biting at her lower lip. He ached to slide his tongue along that lip, to taste all of her.
“Say yes, my lady.” In all his years of service, he’d never once considered begging for the privilege. But regardless of her answer, Malcolm would not leave her to this place, to that horrible fate. She would walk free in the sun again.
“Yes.”
Two hours later, Malcolm sat on the edge of the lounge. Lethargy stole through him, his body’s natural alarm to the sun’s imminent rise weighed heavily in his bones long before the shutters on the suite’s windows began to snap close. He held Jeannie’s hand in his, cradling the slender fingers and stroking the soft skin. As much as he’d ached to make love to her, he’d spent the last two hours interrogating every aspect of the story. He memorized the why behind her trip to Hollywood, the names of the people she’d told, her family lineage and who she could remember from the bus trip.
Malcolm devoured the
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