Forbidden Nights With A Vampire (15 page)

I think, therefore I am, she reminded herself. She had feelings, hopes, and dreams, just like a live person.

But her dreams had just been crushed. Her eyes misted with unshed tears.

She untied her whip and slipped out of her catsuit. While the tub filled with hot water, she rinsed out her underwear and bra in the sink. She hung them to dry on the towel bar.

She settled in the deep tub, letting the hot water seep into her cold bones. She closed her eyes, hoping to relax, but her mind filled with a vision of smoke and fire.

She’d loved that club. She’d designed it, furnished it, decorated it. She’d auditioned the dancers and hired the waiters. It had been her refuge from the cruel world. A place where she controlled everything, and everyone did as she commanded. It was a sanctuary where she never had to feel small and never had to endure the pain from her past again.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. What was she going to do now? Spend the rest of eternity hiding, quaking in fear, with nothing to do but relive the horrors of her past?

She shampooed her singed hair, then ducked under the water to rinse it off. Her face burned. That was her fault. She shouldn’t have waited so long to teleport herself and Phil away from danger. But she hadn’t quite believed his story about the bomb. How on earth could he have known it was in her file cabinet?

She climbed from the tub, dried off, and put on the terry-cloth robe. It was obviously made for a man. The shoulder seams hung halfway to her elbows, and the sleeves fell past her fingertips. She rolled up the sleeves, belted it tight around her waist. The robe was designed for a man’s broad chest, so she flipped the collar inward to help cover her cleavage.

She grabbed her whip and padded into the kitchen. The lights had been turned off, and a big fire blazed in the hearth. She dropped the whip on the coffee table. Was Phil trying to make the place look romantic? Candles flickered on the mantelpiece. And the moose that had been overhead was now gone. She whirled around. The deer and wild pig were gone, too.

A door creaked open, and she spotted Phil at the top landing of stairs that led down into the basement. He switched a light off, then stepped into the main room.

He smiled, his blue eyes gleaming as he looked her over.

Her knees grew weak, but she covered it by sitting suddenly on the couch. She ran a hand through her short, wet hair. “What happened to the animal heads?”

“I moved them to the basement. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“No.” She curled her feet underneath her on the couch and adjusted the bathrobe to make sure she was covered.

He moved closer, still looking at her and still smiling. “I checked the perimeter. We’re in danger from two vicious-looking raccoons living under a wheelbarrow.” His gaze shifted to the coffee table. “Thank God you have your whip.”

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but the few tears she’d shed in the bathtub had only been the tip of what felt like a giant iceberg in her chest. She turned her head away so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

“I called Connor to let him know we’re here. He was relieved to know you’re safe.”

She started to say a snide remark about Connor, but was too tired to think one up.

“Phineas will come before dawn to bring you a supply of synthetic blood,” Phil continued. “So you won’t be forced to bite me after all.”

She nodded. Relief swept through her, threatening to make her tears overflow. If only Phil would do something awful, then she could scream and throw a fit. She winced inwardly. Was that what she’d been doing all these years? Relying on anger to keep from dealing with her real feelings?

“Vanda.” He waited till she cast a furtive glance his way. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be all right.”

Tears burned her eyes, and she looked quickly away.

“I’m going to wash up.”

She heard the bathroom door creak shut. Dammit. She wasn’t going to cry. What was the point? She stood and paced to the kitchen table and back. Nothing to keep her mind off her troubles. No television. No computer.

She stopped in front of the bookcase. How to Gut a Fish in Five Easy Steps. Taxidermy for Dummies. A romance novel? She pulled out the paperback and studied the half-naked couple embracing on the front cover. She smiled to herself, wondering who had brought this book to the cabin. Howard, Phil, or Connor? Maybe they read the love scenes to pick up a few pointers. Not that Phil needed any help in that department.

He had been incredible. So intense. So sexy. He had made her melt.

“Are you too hot?”

She jumped, and turned toward his voice. He’d just emerged from the bathroom. Bare-chested. The book tumbled from her hands.

He nodded toward the fireplace. “I wanted to make the place more cozy, but the fire might be too hot for July.”

“It—It’s fine.” She grabbed the paperback off the floor and stashed it on a lower shelf, stealing one last glimpse at the hero’s chest on the cover. No comparison. The model looked fake. Posed. Waxed.

Her gaze drifted back to Phil. Now that was a chest. Broad across the shoulders. Brown hair, still glistening from his bath and curling as it dried. A thin line of hair dissecting six-pack abs and disappearing under the plaid flannel pajama bottoms he wore low on his hips.

He walked toward her with something clasped in one hand. “I found something in the bathroom that might make you feel better.”

Did it require batteries? “What is it?”

He showed her the clear bottle filled with a greenish liquid. “It’s aloe vera. Good for burns.”

“Oh.” She touched her face. “I’ll heal during my death-sleep.”

“Which is about seven hours from now.” He sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.

She perched on the edge and lifted a hand to take the bottle. To her surprise, he didn’t pass the lotion to her. He squeezed some onto his palm, then set the bottle on the coffee table next to her whip.

“Hold still.” He moved closer, then dabbed some lotion on her chin with his finger.

“I can do it myself.”

“You can’t see where the bad spots are.” He smeared some across her forehead.

It did feel wonderfully cool. “I must look awful.”

“You’re always beautiful to me.” He smoothed some lotion over her cheeks. “You’ve been crying.”

Just the mere mention of tears brought the dreaded things back to her eyes. “I lost everything. My club. My friends.”

“Your friends still care about you. You haven’t lost them.” He dabbed some lotion onto her nose.

She sniffed. “I lost the club. It was everything to me.”

He rubbed his hands together to coat them with aloe vera, then smoothed his palms down her throat. “It wasn’t everything.”

“Yes, it was. I designed it myself. I made all the decisions. It was my creation. It was…perfect.” His hands felt perfect, too.

“It gave you a great sense of accomplishment.”

“Yes. Exactly.” She was so glad he understood. “I was happy there. I felt…safe and secure.”

He leaned back against the sofa cushions. “It was brick and mortar. Wood and cement. Nothing more.”

She stiffened. He didn’t understand at all. “Did you listen to anything I just said?”

“I did. You felt a great sense of accomplishment. You felt happy and secure. And those feelings were all attached to your club.”

“Yes.” A tear ran down her cheek.

“Vanda, the club didn’t hold your feelings. You do that in your heart.” He brushed her tear away. “Nothing—not a Malcontent or an explosion or a fire—can take your feelings away from you.”

The iceberg lodged in her chest melted away, and more tears streamed down her face.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

“A crazy undead lady with purple hair and a mean disposition?”

He smiled and ran his fingers through her damp hair. “I see a beautiful young woman who is smart and brave and can accomplish anything she sets her mind to.”

“You think I can be happy?”

“I know you can.”

More tears escaped. “You say lovely things, Phil.”

He kissed away the tears. “Actually, I’m more a man of action.”

She could imagine what actions he had in mind. “Phil, it will kill me if anything happens to you.”

“I’ll be fine.” He kissed her brow. “Trust me.”

“That’s why I refused your help, you know. It’s not that I’m ungrateful or stubborn. It’s that I…I…”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ve grown a little fond of me?”

“Yes.” Her face felt hot again. “Just a little.”

“Good.” He grabbed the Indian blanket off the back of the couch and spread it on the floor in front of the fire. “I’m a little fond of you, too.”

Her gaze drifted to the bulge in his flannel pants. “And yet, you show it in such a big way.”

He grinned. “Come here. I want to kiss some part of you that doesn’t taste like aloe vera.” His blue eyes glimmered with heat. “I’m sure I can find just the spot.”

She knew he could. She circled the coffee table and stood in front of him.

He touched her cheek. “Vanda, I love you.”

Her heart cracked wide open. “Phil.” She threw her arms around his neck. “What would I do without you?”

She was falling in love. She hadn’t wanted to. But he was proving far too irresistible. And sweet. And sexy. “Will you make love to me? Now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He bent his head down.

V
anda leaned into Phil as he kissed her. It was a languid, leisurely kiss. No doubt he intended to make love to her slowly and thoroughly. But the rhythmic stroking of his tongue against hers, the feel of his soft skin under her roaming hands, and the earthy, manly scent of him filling her senses—it made her bones melt, her heart race, and her desire spiral out of control.

She dug her fingers into his back and arched into him. She pressed her hips against his groin, rubbing his hard length. The aching emptiness between her legs grew hot and demanding.

To hell with leisurely lovemaking. They could do that the second time. Or the third.

She broke the kiss. “Let’s get on with it.” She fumbled with the knot on her terry-cloth belt. Everything was tinted red, so she knew her eyes were glowing.

“Sweetheart, I love the eagerness, but we need to talk first.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” She yanked her robe off and tossed it on the floor.

He sucked in a breath. “Good God, you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She noticed his groin was even larger. “Enough chitchat.” She grabbed hold of the waistband of his flannel pajama bottoms.

He clasped her wrists to stop her. “We really do need to talk.”

“Why?” She yanked her hands from his grasp and glared at him. “Are you dumping me?”

“No! I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”

Her heart swelled. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Then what’s the problem? I can’t get pregnant. I have no diseases. Your gorgeous body will not be harmed in any way.” She grabbed her whip off the coffee table. “Unless, of course, you piss me off.”

He laughed.

She huffed. “That was supposed to scare you into submission. The whip or personal love slave—which will it be?”

His blue eyes twinkled. “You don’t have to resort to threats. I gladly volunteer.”

She tossed the whip onto the table. “Then stop talking and kiss me. Make me scream. That’s an order.”

He shifted his weight. “I have to say something first.”

Vanda groaned with frustration. She should have used the damned whip.

“Remember how you mentioned that the Nazis sent wolves after you?”

She froze. Her skin chilled with goose bumps, in spite of the blazing fire nearby. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She couldn’t let Phil know. He’d never look at her the same way again. “The past is gone. There’s no point in talking about it.”

“But this—”

“No! You love me, don’t you?” Tears sprang to her eyes once again. “Isn’t love supposed to be enough?”

He searched her eyes. “I hope it is.”

“It is.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Please. Just take me as I am. Love me.”

“I do love you. More than anything.”

“Good.” She tugged his pants down. “Then hurry.”

“We have all night. Don’t rush me.”

But he was ready. So ready. “I want you.” She reached out to touch him.

“Wait a minute.” He lowered her to the floor, and she immediately locked her legs around his waist.

“Love slave.” She lifted her hips to rub herself against him. “Take me now.”

He pushed her hips down. “Not now.”

“Yes, now. What about the term ‘love slave’ do you not understand?”

He chuckled. “I was the first one to declare my love. So I get the first turn.”

“We’re taking turns?”

“Yes. Me first.”

She suppressed a smile. For a love slave, he was very domineering. But even their little power struggles turned her on. “You think you’re in charge here?”

“I know I am.” He fished her terry-cloth belt from her robe.

“Maybe I just let you think you’re in charge.” She frowned as he looped the belt around her wrists. “What are you doing?”

“I intend to explore you thoroughly. I can’t do it if you keep rushing me.” He pulled her arms above her head and tied the terry-cloth ends around a leg of the coffee table.

She tugged at the belt, then smiled. He’d tied her so loosely, she could free her hands whenever she wanted. “So who made you the boss?”

“I did. Feel free to register your complaints.”

“I will. You—You’re—” She sucked in a breath when his tongue tickled her neck. “You’re overbearing.”

“Mmm-hmm.” With his tongue, he licked a path down to her breasts.

“You’re a caveman.” She shivered as his tongue circled her nipple. “Pushy and completely ob-ob—”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“Obnoxious!”

He tugged on the hardened tip, and she moaned.

The ache between her legs grew more desperate. “Phil, please.”

“You’re not begging, are you?” He nibbled down her belly.

“Never.”

“Good, ’cause it won’t sway me. This is still my turn, and I’m not done with you.” He slipped two fingers inside her.

She jolted.

“You’re so wet.” He waggled his fingers. “So beautiful.”

She panted, gasping for air. Oh God, it felt so good.

Her legs tensed. Her hips lifted.

And his fingers withdrew. The building crescendo keeled over and fell flat.

“Ack!” She’d never felt so desperate. “What was that?”

“Trust me.” He dove between her legs.

She squealed at the feel of his tongue. He tickled and teased, suckled and nipped.

The tension slammed back into her full force, stealing her breath away. Oh God, if this was how he took his turn, he could take the whole night. A whole fortnight. Her sight dimmed. Her ears hummed. All feelings, all thoughts, zeroed in on his wicked mouth.

She screamed as a massive convulsion racked her body. She writhed, oblivious to everything but the delicious shudders.

She gasped when he entered her suddenly. “Phil.” She freed her hands from the belt. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He smiled and kissed her brow. “Hang in there, sweetheart. It’s still my turn.”

Several hours later, Phil lay flat on his back in a sated stupor.

“Phil,” Vanda whispered in his ear.

He groaned. Was it his turn again? He’d lost count. After his last turn, he’d thought he was completely spent. He’d been half asleep when she’d started massaging him with a warm, wet washcloth. She was so gentle, he’d floated in a drowsy, semiaroused state.

But then she took him into her mouth. In a flash he was fully awake and fully erect. She tortured him till he begged for mercy, and then she straddled him. He didn’t know what was more exciting: feeling her hot sheath sliding up and down his penis, or watching her make love to him. He’d adored watching the expressions on her face, the flush on her skin, and the bounce of her breasts. He’d relished hearing the soft moans and hoarse cries. He had never experienced anything so beautifully erotic.

She’d nearly killed him.

“Phil,” she whispered again.

He moaned.

“You fell asleep. It’s four in the morning.”

“That’s nice.” He pried his eyes open, but they fell shut again. “I sleep at night. Guard during the day.”

“I know. But all that exercise left me with an appetite.”

“That’s nice.” He drifted off.

“Phil.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m hungry.” She traced his carotid artery with her finger.

His eyes popped open.

She grinned. “I thought that would get your attention. I was going to call Connor, but I thought I should let you know first, in case one of the guys teleports here with synthetic blood and sees you sprawled naked on the floor.”

He sat up. “I see what you mean.” It would be obvious that he and Vanda were engaging in forbidden activities. He blinked, realizing for the first time that she was wearing flannel pants and a man’s T-shirt. “You’re dressed.”

“Yes. I found these clothes on the dryer. And I took another bath. Vamps have a really strong sense of smell.”

Werewolves did, too, and Vanda’s scent was all over him. “I’d better wash up.” He hurried to the bathroom to scrub himself clean.

When he came out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he discovered she’d loaded the washing machine with the blanket and everything else that smelled of sex.

She paced around the room. “I think I got everything. I don’t want to lose you as my guard. If Connor figures out what we’re doing, he might reassign you.”

“Then I would quit.” Phil found one last T-shirt and pair of flannel pants on the dryer. He pulled them on. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Phil.” She looked at him with so much love in her soft gray eyes. Then her gaze shifted to his neck. Her eyes gleamed, and she turned away. “Make the call, please.”

“Right.” He wasn’t afraid of Vanda’s fangs, but he knew if she bit him, she’d realize he didn’t taste like a normal human. That wasn’t the way he wanted her to learn the truth. He’d tried to tell her earlier, but she’d refused to listen.

He was halfway to the bathroom to retrieve the cell phone he’d left in his pants when he remembered it never got good reception at this cabin. It would be dangerous to have a Vamp teleport here using an unstable beacon. He went back to the phone on the kitchen counter, then punched in the number for the security office at Romatech.

Connor answered. “How is it there?”

“Quiet. Vanda’s hungry, so we could use a delivery.”

“I’ll send Phineas. Expect his call in a few minutes.” Connor hung up.

Phil frowned as he set down the receiver.

“Something wrong?” Vanda asked.

“Connor seemed more…curt than usual. There must be something going on. We’ll find out when Phineas comes.”

Vanda nodded and paced toward the fireplace. The fire had dwindled, leaving a few glowing coals in a heap of ash.

The phone rang, and he grabbed the receiver. “Hey, Phineas. I’m glad you made it out of the nightclub.”

By the echoing sound of his voice, he realized he was on speaker phone. He continued to talk so his voice could guide Phineas to the right place. When the young Vamp appeared, his arms filled with a big cardboard box, Phil hung up.

“Hey, bro.” Phineas set the box on the kitchen counter and turned to greet Vanda. “Whoa, dudette. Looking a little crispy.”

She gave him an annoyed look. “Thanks a lot.” Her expression softened as she approached the kitchen. “Actually, I do want to thank you. Not just for bringing the food, but for helping everybody get out of the club.”

“No problem,” Phineas said. “Sorry about it blowing up. You know, your bouncer was really pissed. Insisted on teleporting back with me to Romatech so he could volunteer to fight the Malcontents. Angus was glad to hire him.”

“Angus is at Romatech now?” Phil asked.

“Oh yeah.” Phineas removed a plastic case from the box and set it in front of Phil. “These are some weapons Connor wanted you to have.”

“Good.” Phil opened the case and found two handguns and numerous clips.

“I wish I could have brought you some silver bullets,” Phineas said, “but I couldn’t teleport with them.”

“I understand.” Phil loaded a clip into a handgun.

“What about my food?” Vanda peered inside the box.

“Right here, Miss Toasty.” Phineas began unloading bottles of synthetic blood and setting them on the counter.

Vanda grabbed one, yanked off the top, and chugged the contents down.

“Whoa, baby.” Phineas slanted an amused look at Phil. “I wonder why she’s so hungry?”

Phil ignored him and stashed the rest of the bottles into the refrigerator.

Phineas looked back and forth between Phil and Vanda. “Matching lumberjack outfits. How…interesting.”

Vanda plunked her empty bottle on the counter. “Stow it, Dr. Phang, before I get creative with this bottle.”

“Ooh, kinky.” Phineas grinned. “I like it.”

Phil loaded another handgun, switched on the safety, and offered it to Vanda. “Have you ever used one of these?”

“No.” She eyed it warily, then gave Phineas a sardonic look. “But I know where to aim for target practice.”

“Ooh, kinky and freaky.” Phineas winked.

“Will you get serious?” Phil grumbled. He offered the gun once more to Vanda. “You need this.”

She took it reluctantly. “I prefer my whip.”

Phineas snorted. “I bet you do.”

“Do I need to knock your fangs out?” Phil growled.

“All right, all right.” Phineas held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “The Love Doctor’s just having a little fun, that’s all. Things are so…grim back at Romatech. It’s a lot nicer here at your little love nest.”

“It’s a hunting cabin,” Phil corrected him.

“Phil and Howard are hunters.” Vanda strode to the coffee table and set her handgun down next to her whip. “Phil moved them all to the basement ’cause I didn’t like them, but there used to be animal trophies mounted on the walls.”

“Yeah, I know what you’ve been mounting,” Phineas muttered. When Phil elbowed him, he whispered, “Don’t worry, bro. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Now that’s weird.” Vanda pivoted as she scanned the cabin. “I just noticed there aren’t any hunting rifles here. How did you kill those animals?”

Phil winced inwardly. No rifles had been necessary. A fully shifted bear and wolf could kill the old fashioned way.

Phineas let out a slow, whistling breath and gave Phil a knowing look.

Phil cleared his throat. “Howard never keeps rifles here. Someone could break in and steal them.”

“Oh. I see.” Vanda perched on the arm of the couch, apparently satisfied with his answer.

“So what’s happening at Romatech?” Phil changed the subject.

Phineas moved the empty box to the floor. “Angus arrived a few hours ago. He converted the conference room across from the security office into a war room.”

“War room?” Vanda asked, her eyes wide.

“It’s highly probable that things will escalate,” Phil explained. “Especially now that Casimir is in America.”

She made a face. “Why couldn’t he stay in Eastern Europe? That’s where all the creepy vampires hang out.”

Phil winced. He needed to tell Vanda that the creepy vampire, Sigismund, was here, too. “It makes sense for Casimir to come to America. He wants to destroy all the modern, bottle-drinking Vamps, and this is where the majority of them live. The power base is here.”

Phineas nodded. “Angus was saying the same thing.”

“Well, the leaders might be here, but the followers…” Vanda groaned. “Did you see those guys at the party last night? When they thought Phineas was poisoned by Malcontents, they freaked out and wanted to run away. Our side has a bunch of wimps!”