Vittorio’s breath left his lungs in a long rush of shock. Something tight in his chest loosened. Someplace vulnerable. Someplace guarded and protected. He pressed his hand tightly over the spot, feeling as if that voice had been a key, fitting perfectly into the lock and turning it before he had a chance to react.
If she drank enough, she might just dare to get on the back of his bike and ride off with him. She wouldn’t look back. She wouldn’t want to look back. He would be enough for her. She could make a life with him, she knew she could.
She was bound to him, body and soul, as he was to her. For the first time in centuries he felt hope. And to a male Carpathian on the verge of turning vampire, hope was the only thing left.
For the first time in her life she felt weak with wanting. With need. Yet at the same time, she did feel sort of attractive. She was aware of herself as a woman, as feminine, when she’d always felt masculine. He’d given her that, and she’d be forever grateful.
Seduction wasn’t difficult when two people were both willing... and she was so willing. Whatever he wanted. Any way he wanted. Anywhere.
She didn’t want to be that girl, the one curled up in a little ball. The one under the covers in the fetal position. She’d been there hundreds of times and every single time she’d told herself to stand up. This time, win or lose, if she just stood up, she had the very real opportunity, which would never come again, to be with a man she’d dreamt of.
He smiled at her, looking more like temptation than ever before. She didn’t care, she wanted everything he could give her.
For whatever reason, she looked at him and saw something in him no one else did – but he needed it.
Kiss me, Raven. Merge your mind with mine. Share your body so that we are completely one being. You trusted me before. Do so now. Look at me with the eyes of love, in forgiveness for the things I have been forced to do, for the beast in my nature. Do not look at me through the eyes of one who would wish to destroy our people and us. Give yourself to me.
He thought about her laughter. The sunshine. He lived in a dark place. Just listening to the sound of her voice took him out of it.
Those tears reminded him, every time he looked in the mirror, he wasn’t human anymore. Everything had been taken from him, leaving him a shell. An empty shell.
The feelings of conquest and possession mixing with love were a heady combination. Those traits were deep in him and she accepted him without judgment. How could he not be in love with her?
Her courage humbled him. The immense trust it took to allow herself to be tied by him, even in the name of art, was astonishing for a woman like her. It was a true power exchange between them and he loved that. Even craved it.
Perhaps it is as simple as Hannah’s sister is marrying one of the few men in the world I call friend.” His gaze strayed to where Joley stood rigid against the wall. “Or perhaps I wanted to see, one more time, whether the reason I can no longer sleep at night is worth it.
There was nothing for him, and in the end, he had to acknowledge that he was too dangerous to just keep around like some loose cannon.
He was called Ice for a number of reasons, but the biggest was because he was truly ice inside. A glacier. Deep, wide, dense, impossible to penetrate. He thought his heart was encased in ice. He thought his emotions long since frozen, but she was changing everything, including his perception of himself.
His shadow and hers had become entangled in spite of his efforts to keep them apart. Although, truthfully, he hadn’t tried that hard. He knew if she rejected him, the consequences to him would be dire.
You are a good man, Mikhail.” She grinned impishly, her blue eyes teasing. “You just have too much power for your own good. But don’t worry, I know this American girl. She’s very disrespectful, and she’ll take all that arrogant starch out of you.
His hands framed her face again, his amber eyes alive with love, with tenderness. “I want to make a vow to you. I’ll love you with everything in me. I’ll bring you as much happiness as I can give you. But I cannot allow your death, not at my hands. You’re more important than I am.
She kissed him, her body molding to his, and in his mind her beautiful voice rose in song just for him. The notes skipped from his mind to the sky, silver and gold notes of joy and happiness, of courage and admiration. She sang of love between two people, sacred and beautiful. She sang of peace and happiness. Her hands moved over him possessively, lovingly, checking his body for wounds. Her warrior was home. Whatever.