Immortal Sins (9 page)

Read Immortal Sins Online

Authors: Amanda Ashley

His gaze settled on her face. The look in his eyes was hot enough to melt iron.

She had seen desire in a man’s eyes before, but never anything like this. Everything that was female within her responded to the sheer masculine hunger in his eyes. He wanted her, there was no doubt of that.

Her throat went dry and her pulse raced as sexual awareness thrummed through every inch of her. Excitement fluttered in the pit of her stomach as every rational thought went right out of her head and all she could do was stare at the incredible creature before her.

He held out his hand. “Are you ready to go home?”

Home.
Hearing the word on his lips sent a shiver of a different kind down her spine, had her imagining a small house with a red brick chimney and roses growing in the front yard, and her with a golden-haired baby in her arms.

She took his hand. His skin was cool against hers, and yet, at his touch, warmth speared through her.

Outside, he walked her to her car, waited while she unlocked the doors. She was keenly aware of his presence behind her. Her hand trembled when she tried to put the key in the ignition, so much so that she had to try three times before the key slid into place. The interior of her car seemed smaller with him beside her, the air thicker. Tension stretched between them as she pulled away from the curb and headed for home.

Kari kept her gaze on the road ahead; her nerves were humming with anticipation when she pulled up in front of her house. It wasn’t much to look at. It was old and not very big, but she loved it.

Mouth dry, palms damp, she unlocked the front door, stepped inside, and turned on the lights. She tossed her handbag and coat on the bench inside the door, then stood there, at a loss as to what to do next. Her thoughts went round and round, like a hamster running on a wheel.

She stilled as he came up behind her. He was close. So close, it was suddenly hard to breathe. If she leaned back, she could touch him.

“Karinna?”

“Y…yes?”

“Do you want me to stay?” His breath fanned her cheek.

“I…I don’t know.”

Placing his hands lightly on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Oh, my. She stared up at him.
Kiss me
, she thought,
just kiss me
.

She didn’t think she had spoken the words out loud but he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his.

All rational thought fled her mind as her body quickly responded to his kiss. Her arms went up around his neck; her body moved toward his of its own accord as her eyelids fluttered down. Someone moaned softly. Had that sound, so filled with yearning, come from her? Lights and color flared behind her eyelids as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept over her lower lip, its touch like a velvet flame, unleashing a wave of desire more intense than anything Kari had ever known. She didn’t know what he was doing to her, but she hoped he would never stop.

His arms locked around her waist, crushing her body close as his hand moved restlessly up and down her back.

She wanted him, wanted him as she had never wanted another man, wanted him as she had never wanted anything else in her whole life.

She went up on her tiptoes, her hand delving into the hair at his nape as her tongue sought his. With a little cry of surprise, she drew back. When she touched a finger to her tongue, it came away bloody.

She looked up at him, her desire abruptly cooled. Vampire! The word thundered in the back of her mind. What was she doing, standing in her living room making out with a 767-year-old vampire?

He gazed down at her, a hint of amusement evident in his eyes. “Forgive me,” he murmured. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

She stared at him, shocked to realize that not only had she been tempted to take a vampire to her bed, but that she had cut her tongue on one of his fangs.

“Karinna?”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“What is it that troubles you?”

“Do you want the answers in alphabetical order?”

“You are upset.” He looked genuinely confused “Why?”

“Why?” she exclaimed, fisting her hands on her hips. “Why do you think? You’re a vampire!”

“Yes, I know,” he replied dryly.

“Well?”

He shook his head. “Why is that a problem for you?”

“Because I…because you…” She stamped her foot in exasperation. “Because it is!”

His laughter added fuel to the fire of her indignation.

Kari pivoted on her heel and stomped into the kitchen, then stood there, at a loss as to what to do. When her stomach growled, she filled a pot with water for spaghetti and put it on the stove. The soup and sandwich she had eaten earlier hadn’t filled her up. Besides, eating would give her something to do.

A subtle shift in the air told her that Rourke had followed her into the room.

“I guess you’ve had dinner,” she muttered. Something warm and red and liquid.

“Yes.”

She turned to face him, her curiosity overcoming her irritation. “How often do you have to…you know?”

“I take sustenance when I feel the need, the same as you.”

“Hmm. And how often do you feel the need?”

“Every day or so, more often if I am injured, or if it has been a long time since I fed.”

It occurred to her that he hadn’t fed for three hundred years. Obviously, vampires didn’t starve to death.

Fascinated by the turn of their conversation, Kari sat at the kitchen table. “What’s it like, being a vampire?”

He leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, his brow furrowed as he sought for an answer. And then he shrugged. “I do not know how to explain it.”

“In the movies, it seems that vampires spend all their time running about sucking people dry or making other vampires.”

Rourke looked at her a moment, and then he laughed. He, too, had seen those movies on the television. “Perhaps there are vampires who live that way.”

“So, are you one of them?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” she replied flippantly. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Before Vilnius, I lived a rather quiet life. I admit, when I was first made, I did my share of, how did you put it? Sucking people dry? But that soon passed.” Once he had learned to control his hunger, he satisfied his craving by taking a little from two or three instead of draining one mortal dry. Since not all blood tasted the same, it gave him a bit of variety. Another advantage was that it left no bodies to dispose of, no mysterious deaths to arouse the suspicion of the local authorities.

“So, how did you spend your time?”

He shrugged. “In the beginning, I tried to maintain my associations with my old friends, but they soon questioned what they viewed as my suddenly peculiar behavior. They wanted to know where I went during the day and why I refused their invitations to go hunting or engage in other daytime activities. I made excuses, told them I had contracted a rare disease that made it impossible for me to go out during the day and severely restricted what I could eat.”

“What about your family?”

“My father was killed in battle. My mother died soon after.” He didn’t mention Rissa, or how she had rejected him. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, but he did.

“Did you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Four brothers. We were very close. When they started to notice that they were aging and I was not, I left home.”

“That must have been hard for you.”

He grunted softly. “It was a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Relieved to have something to do, she added spaghetti to the boiling water and set the timer, then poured a jar of spaghetti sauce into another pot and put it on the stove.

Rourke watched curiously, thinking how much easier life was now than it had been over seven hundred years ago. In his time, there were no grocery stores, no malls. If a man wanted meat, he hunted it, or he raised it and butchered it. If a woman wanted a dress, she wove the cloth and made it herself. Books were rare, movies undreamed of.

He wrinkled his nose as the nauseating smell of garlic and oregano and tomatoes filled the air. Excusing himself, he left the room.

He wandered the length of her living room, pausing now and then to examine the odds and ends arranged on tables and shelves. She had a fondness for cats. Feline figures made of wood and stone and some hard material he didn’t recognize crowded a wooden shelf. A picture of a fat black and white cat hung on one wall; a large ceramic cat sat on a corner of the hearth.

The clink of dishes and silverware drew his attention back to the kitchen, and the woman. He recalled the kisses they had shared and wondered where they might have led if her tongue hadn’t brushed against his fangs and drawn blood. He cursed, quietly berating his inability to completely separate his hunger for blood from his desire. And desire her he did, with every fiber of his being. She was a woman unlike any he had ever known, strong yet vulnerable, feisty yet shy, and all female.

Sitting on the sofa, he picked up the remote and switched on the television, amazed anew at the images that flashed on the screen. Truly a magnificent invention, but his interest in it paled next to his hunger for the woman.

Perhaps, when Karinna finished her repast, he could persuade her to take up where they had left off.

Chapter 10

Kari picked at the food on her plate, her mind on Rourke, always Rourke. He was such an enigma and she had so many questions she wanted to ask him. How many people had an opportunity to find out what life had really been like 767 years ago, not by reading about it in books or researching it online, but by talking to someone who had actually lived it? Even more amazing than his age was the reality of what he was. A vampire. Not a movie villain. Not a creature of myth and legend. But a living, breathing vampire. Well, maybe not living. Still, it was incredible.

After carrying her dishes to the sink, she rinsed them off and put them into the dishwasher. She poured herself a cup of coffee, added cream and sugar, and carried it into the living room.

Her vampire—she rather liked the sound of that—was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, a quizzical expression on his face as he watched a football game.

He looked up as she entered the room. “This game makes no sense to me.”

Kari smiled as she sat down beside him. “Me neither.” She sipped her coffee. “You can change the channel, you know.”

“No.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, as several players wearing red uniforms fell on top of a player wearing blue. “I like it.”

The male animal, she thought. Man or vampire, there was no understanding any of them. “Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t take his gaze off the screen. “If you wish.”

“Were you ever married, or anything?”

He glanced at her briefly. “Once.”

“Were you a vampire at the time?”

She had his attention now.

“I was turned after Rissa and I had been married for several years.”

Remembering the story he had told her, Kari blinked at him. “You were married when you slept with the vampire?”

Rourke nodded, his expression unreadable.

“How could you? I mean…” She had thought him different, honorable, with his impeccable manners and polite speech.

“I knew it was wrong,” he said quietly, “but I could not resist her.” At Kari’s skeptical look, he said, “Male or female, a vampire on the hunt exudes a kind of sexual glamour that mortals find hard to resist.”

“Is that why I find you so…” Kari bit back the last word, her cheeks warming with embarrassment at what she had almost said.

“Perhaps, in the beginning.”

She frowned. If that was true, how was she to know if what she felt for him was real, or merely some kind of irresistible vampire allure? “Are you working that magic on me now?”

“No.”

She studied him a moment, wondering if he was telling her the truth, and then changed the subject. “Your becoming a vampire must have come as quite a shock to your wife.”

He nodded. That was putting it mildly. Once Rissa had discovered what he had become, she had refused to share his bed, refused to let him touch her again. There had been days at a time when she refused to speak to him, or even look at him.

Kari put her coffee cup aside. “Did you have children?”

He hesitated a moment, remembering his joy at the birth of his children, remembering how Rissa had done everything in her power to turn them against him as they grew older. It was a pain that lingered to this day. “Twin sons. They were ten when I was turned.”

“Does it bother you to talk about it?”

“When I think of that life now, it is like it happened to someone else.”

His sons had been approaching manhood when they began looking at him strangely. He knew they were wondering why their mother aged and their father did not. His brothers, too, began casting suspicious glances his way. Once, Rourke had overheard his brother’s speculating on whether he had sold his soul to the devil in exchange for good health and eternal youth. Soon other people in the village began murmuring behind his back, and when he heard whispers of witchcraft and Satanism, he packed a few belongings and left home in the dark of night, never to return. He had never seen his family again.

“Rourke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to resurrect unhappy memories.”

“As I said, it was a long time ago.”

“I know, but…”

He covered her mouth with his fingertips. “No more about the past. It is the present that interests me now.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as his knuckles gently stroked her cheek.

“I have so much to learn.” He leaned toward her, his eyes darkening. “So much to learn about you.”

“Me?” Her heart jumped into overdrive. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

“Yes. For instance, do you like it when I do this?” he asked, his voice husky, as he claimed her lips with his.

Once again, all rational thought deserted her as he drew her down on the sofa so that they were lying face-to-face, their legs entwined. His kisses were more potent than whiskey, sweeter than honey, more addictive than dark chocolate, and she knew if he kissed her until the end of time, she would still be hungry for more.

His hands caressed her. Wickedly clever hands that seemed to know exactly how to arouse her. After a moment, she slipped her hands under his shirt and began a slow exploration of her own, reveling in the feel of his skin beneath her palms. His body was solid, with washboard abs and biceps like steel. A distant part of her mind wondered if he’d had a weight room tucked away in the castle somewhere.

The heat of his arousal pressing against her belly gave her pause. He was a vampire. He had been trapped inside a painting for three hundred years. Blood wasn’t the only thing he’d had to do without during that time. It was a daunting thought. She felt her ardor cooling at the thought of being the first woman he had been with in such a long time.

As though attuned to her thoughts, he drew back.

Was it a trick of the light, or were his eyes red and glowing?

“Karinna?”

She was keenly aware of the strength of his arms wrapped around her. Would he let her go if she asked? Or slake his desires for her flesh and blood whether she was willing or not?

“What is wrong?” he asked.

“I…I need to, ah…go to the bathroom.”

He regarded her for a moment, as if weighing the truth of her words, and then he nodded as comprehension dawned. “You have changed your mind.”

“No, really, I just need to…”

“You do not have to be afraid of me.” Releasing her, he sat up, putting some space between them. “I have no intention of taking you, or your blood, against your will.”

She looked up at him, her expression puzzled. “How do you do that? Read my mind, I mean. You’ve done it before.”

He shrugged. “It is a by-product of being a vampire. I can sense strong emotions, and sometimes your thoughts.”

“Well, it’s very disconcerting.”

“Yes,” he replied dryly. “I suppose it is.”

“Three hundred years is a long time for a man to go without…to be celibate.”

He snorted softly. “You have no idea.” Vampires were by nature sensual creatures. Abstaining from intimacy for more than a few weeks caused discomfort; living like a monk for the last three centuries had caused almost as much physical agony as being deprived of nourishment.

He rose and went to the window and looked out into the night. In spite of his words to the contrary, Karinna was right to be afraid of him. He had been a fool to think of seducing her. She was far too young and far too innocent for the likes of him, especially in his current state. Perhaps he should seek out a lady of the evening. They had been plentiful in his time; men being what they were, he assumed there were still women whose favors could be had for a price.

He turned away from the window to find Karinna watching him, her brows drawn together in a frown.

“Have you been in love very many times?”

Of all the questions she might have asked him, this was the least expected.

“I’ve never been in love.” His gaze moved over her, blatantly hot and hungry. “Though I’ve been in lust from time to time.”

His voice, the look in his eyes, sent a wave of heat rushing through her. She cleared her throat. “What about your wife? Didn’t you love her?”

“No. It was an arranged marriage.”

“Oh. I’ve heard about those.”

“They were quite common in my time. Some turned out happily,” he said with a careless shrug. “Many did not.”

“Was yours happy?”

“It was tumultuous. Rissa was an only child, badly spoiled, with a quick mind and a quicker temper. I am afraid I had no patience for either her tantrums or her jealousy.” Looking back, he knew the lion’s share of his failed marriage rested squarely on his shoulders. Though he had been faithful until he met Melina, he had been too involved in looking after the estate to give Rissa the attention she needed. “And what of you?” he asked. “A woman as lovely as you are must have had legions of lovers.”

Kari laughed as she imagined countless men lined up at her front door, all eager to sweep her off her feet. In truth, she’d had only a couple of serious relationships before Ben, and none since then. She’d had lots of offers, but they weren’t the kind of offers that interested her. She didn’t believe in casual sex, had no interest in sleeping with a man just because he had taken her out to dinner or a movie. And nowadays, with the threat of AIDS and numerous other sexually transmitted diseases, well, she wasn’t interested in dying for love, either.

“That’s very funny,” she said. “Legions of lovers.”

“I was quite serious.”

She couldn’t help being flattered that he thought she was fighting men off with a stick. “I’ve never had a lover.”

“Never?” From what he had seen and heard on the television, the men and women of this day were largely immoral, jumping in and out of various beds with or without the sanction of the church, changing partners as often as they changed the sheets.

“I’ve had boyfriends,” Kari said defensively, “and we’ve come close to going all the way, but…” She shrugged. “I always came to my senses before it was too late.”

He lifted one inquisitive brow. “You are untouched?”

“I know, I know, it’s practically a crime to be a virgin in this day and age, but, oh, well, that’s the way it is.”

His gaze moved over her, settling on the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. A maiden. He should have known when he tasted her that first night. There was nothing sweeter or more satisfying in all the world than virgin blood. Unless it ran through a witch’s veins, he amended. But Karinna, ah, her life’s blood had been sweet indeed. At the thought, his thirst rose up within him, hot and quick. A thirst for her blood. A hunger for her flesh.

As though reading his mind, she stood abruptly. “It’s getting late,” she said, “and I have to work tomorrow.”

Her insides went all shivery when he closed the distance between them, folded his hands over her shoulders, bent down, and kissed her cheek. “Good night, then.”

Blast the man. His kisses went to her head like champagne. One kiss, and she was ready to grab him by the arm and drag him upstairs. Instead, she forced a smile. “Good night.”

She followed him to the front door and locked it behind him, wondering how long she would be able to resist the temptation that was Jason Rourke.

 

He was waiting for her in the living room when she got home from work the following night.

“I suppose that’s another by-product of being a vampire,” Kari muttered as she swept past him. “Breaking and entering.”

“I did not break anything,” he replied, looking offended.

Grinning, she shook her head. “It’s just an expression. How did you get in?”

“Through the front door.”

“It was locked.”

He lifted one brow in wry amusement.

“Oh, right.”

“I need a favor,” he said. “Actually, a couple of them.”

“Like what?” she asked, a note of suspicion in her tone.

“I should like to bathe, and I need a place to rest during the day.”

She had expected him to request something far more sinister. “There’s a bathroom down the hall,” she said. “As for a place to rest…” She thought a moment. “If you’re not claustrophobic, there’s a little place out back. Hardly more than a shed, really. You could put a bed or a…a coffin out there. The windows are boarded up, and the roof doesn’t leak.”

Rourke frowned thoughtfully, then nodded. It would do until he could find something more permanent, more secure. “Thank you.”

“You’ll find clean towels under the sink in the bathroom.” She blew out a breath. “I’ll just go make dinner while you, ah, clean up.”

Without waiting for an answer, she went into the kitchen.

She was scrambling a couple of eggs when the shower went on in the bathroom. All thought of food was instantly forgotten as her mind quickly conjured an image of Jason Rourke shedding his clothes and stepping into the shower.

“Girl, get a grip,” she muttered. “It doesn’t matter how gorgeous and sexy he is. The operative word is
vampire.
Remember that. V-a-m-p-i-r-e. As in undead, bloodsucking creature of the night.”

But she couldn’t stop picturing him standing in her shower clad in nothing but soapsuds, with water trickling down his arms and chest and regions farther south….

“Vampire, Kari,” she muttered. “Vampire!”

She made toast and tea to go with the eggs, then went into the living room and sat down in front of the TV. She ate automatically, a naughty part of her mind picturing Rourke standing naked in her shower. She was surprised when she glanced at her plate and realized that even though she had eaten every bite, she had no memory of doing so.

She went suddenly still as the water went off in the bathroom and a host of new images flooded her mind.

Kari shook her head. What was the matter with her? She had seen other good-looking guys, even dated a few, but none of them had ever played havoc with her libido the way this one did. And he wasn’t even human!

She felt that peculiar stir of awareness in the air when he entered the room. Setting her plate on the coffee table, she glanced over her shoulder. He was wearing a pair of tan slacks and a navy blue sweater that made his blue eyes look even darker.

He grinned at her, obviously aware that she found him attractive. It irritated her that she couldn’t hide her feelings from him.

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