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Night's Master (Children of The Night #3) - Page 9/51

I was almost twenty-four years old. I'd had a number of boyfriends in high school, but nothing really serious until I was a senior. My parents hadn't liked Shane, which only made me more determined to see him. Even when I realized my parents were right about him, I refused to give them the satisfaction of breaking up with him until much later, which pretty much ruined my last year of school.

I didn't get serious about anyone else until Lyle. I was certain he was the man I would marry, the man I would spend the rest of my life with. That, too, had ended badly. Maybe Lyle and I would have lived happily ever after if I'd been willing to compromise my standards, but I'd made it through high school with my virginity intact, thanks to a vow I'd made with my friend, Sherry, who had been my best friend at the time. We had watched the so-called popular girls in school, heard the way the guys talked about the ones who put out, and decided our self-respect was worth more than a one-night stand with the captain of the football team. When I told Lyle I was a virgin and intended to stay that way, he had tried, forcibly, to change my mind. I'd had him arrested. Needless to say, that put an end to our relationship. I'd sworn off men after Lyle.

And now Raphael was here, tempting me with his ebony eyes and his slow, sexy smile. No matter how often I reminded myself that he was a Vampire, it didn't seem to help. He was just the kind of man I had always dreamed of, only he wasn't really a man at all, and I was afraid that allowing myself to care for him wouldn't be a dream come true, but a nightmare. And yet I wanted his touch more than my next breath.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he turned toward me, the heat in his eyes hotter than any fire.

My heart seemed to slow, and then it sped up. I could feel it pounding in my ears. From the way Raphael was looking at me, I knew he could hear it, too, just as I knew that the heat in his eyes wasn't entirely from the urge to make love.

What would it be like, to let him bite me, to know he was drinking my blood?

The thought washed through my veins like ice water, and even though I was loathe to admit it, even to myself, it held a modicum of fascination. In the oldDracula movies, the women always swooned when under Dracula's spell. They never resisted; instead, they bared their throats in silent invitation, their expressions bordering on sheer ecstasy as he bent over their necks, his black cloak settling over them like a shroud.

“Does it hurt?” I asked curiously.

Raphael didn't pretend he didn't know what I was asking. “That depends on the Vampire.”

That was interesting. “In what way?”

“There are some who feed like wild animals. They take what they want without a care for their…” He paused, and I could see him searching for a word that wouldn't frighten or offend me.

“Prey?” I said it for him, since he seemed to be having a hard time.

He nodded. “Others who are more thoughtful make it a pleasant experience.”

“So, how come you never hear anyone talking about how wonderful it is to be some Vampire's dinner?”

“Because we wipe memory of us from their minds.”

“You can do that?”

He nodded again.

“Have you ever done that to me? Bitten me and then made me forget?”

“No, and I never will.”

I hoped he was telling me the truth. “How often do you have to…eat? Drink?”

He shrugged. “Once a week is sufficient to sustain life, though not very satisfying.”

“What if they're drunk? Do you get tipsy?”

“No,” he said, chuckling.

“What if you drink from someone who's got a really bad cold? Or the flu? Do you get sick, too?” Although research scientists had managed to eradicate AIDS and most of the contagious diseases known to man, there was still no cure for the common cold.

“We tend to avoid those who are in ill health, even though their sickness doesn't affect us.”

I wondered if that was common knowledge. I mean, if Vampires could drink tainted blood without it affecting them, maybe scientists could use their blood or DNA to find a cure for the new strain of influenza that had recently been discovered.

“Do you like it?” I asked, my curiosity growing by leaps and bounds. “Drinking blood? I mean, isn't it really gross?”

“It should be, but it isn't.” His gaze slid to my throat. “It's very sweet, actually.”

“Right.”

He laughed softly. “Don't knock it until you've tried it.”

“No, thank you!”

He laughed again, a husky, sexy sound that wrapped itself around me like warm velvet. The attraction between us flared to life, ignited by the heat in his eyes. I wanted to be in his arms, to feel his body pressed against mine, to taste his kisses…and that was all, I assured myself, just a kiss, nothing more, even though my whole body ached with wanting him.

Surely one kiss wouldn't hurt.

“Kathy.” His voice was thick with longing.

“Kiss me.” The words came out in the barest of whispers, but he heard them.

His arm slid around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, closing my eyes as his mouth claimed mine. His lips were firm and cool, his kiss unhurried. I scooted closer, wanting to feel his body pressed against mine. I slid my hand under his shirt, my fingers moving restlessly over his broad back.

At my touch, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over my lower lip, dipping inside to taste and explore. Heat exploded through me, as if I had swallowed a piece of the sun. That quickly, I was on fire for him.

He cupped the back of my head in one hand while he lifted me onto his lap, so that I was straddling his hips. I moaned softly, scorched by the heat of his arousal. In a distant part of my mind, I remembered my mother warning me to never, ever, sit on a boy's lap. As I had only been ten or eleven at the time, I had been puzzled by her advice. The reason for her warning was blatantly obvious now.

“Kathy…” His voice was ragged as he whispered my name.

Lifting my head, I gazed into his eyes, deep black eyes that seemed to glow with a fire all their own.

“If we don't stop now,” he said in that same rough tone, “we're going to take our friendship to a whole new level.”

I stared at him, every fiber of my being urging me to take him by the hand and lead him to my bed. It was what he wanted. It was what the woman in me wanted. But a little part of me, that one tiny part that was still rational, warned me that it would be a gigantic mistake. Lust wasn't love. One night didn't mean a lifetime commitment. Once I crossed the line and let him make love to me, there would be no going back.

With a sigh of regret, I climbed off his lap, turned my back to him, and took a deep breath. Even if he hadn't been a Vampire, I wasn't about to break my vow and jump in the sack with a man I had known for only a few days. But oh, my, it was tempting.

A tingle of awareness slid down my spine, and I knew he was standing close behind me.

“You're angry.”

“No.” I turned to face him. “It was as much my idea as yours. But…” I blew out a sigh. “Things are moving a little too fast for me, that's all.”

“Still friends?” he asked with a roguish grin.

“Still friends.”

Lowering his head, he kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

I accompanied him to the door, then stood on the porch, thinking that he looked just as good walking away. I liked the way he moved. I liked the way his jeans clung to his long legs and lean hips. I liked his tight butt. It took all my willpower not to call him back.

He turned when he reached his car. “Like what you see?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement. Even in the dim light, I could see the smug look on his face. “It's not too late to change your mind.”

I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment. How had he known I was checking him out? Or that I was having second thoughts about sending him away?

I shook my head. It just wasn't fair! Not only was he sexier than any man on two legs had a right to be, but now he was reading my mind!

Chapter Eight

I was unloading a box of new paperback releases on Monday morning when Susie arrived. I was relieved to see that, for once, her boys weren't trailing at her heels. Not that I have anything against kids, it's just that her three seemed more like six. Every time they came into the store, I was afraid they were going to break something, tear something, or just drive me crazy with their constant bickering and punching. I didn't know how she stood it, day after day.

“Hi,” I said. “What brings you here so early?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just taking a walk. It's supposed to be good exercise, you know, and…did you hear anything out of the ordinary late last night?”

“I don't think so.” When Raphael was kissing me, the whole world could have blown up and I'd have been none the wiser. “Why?”

“Oh, it's probably nothing.” She smiled, but it looked forced. “Rick says I'm imagining things again.”

I came out from behind the counter. “Come on, we can sit down and talk over coffee.” I had bought a couple of cute ceramic mugs at the pottery shop. I filled a cup for her and one for myself. “So, what kinds of things are you imagining?” I asked when we were both seated.

“Well, last night I got up a little after midnight to go to the bathroom. Seems like I'm always going these days. Anyway, I heard a wolf howling, and when I looked out the window, I'm sure I saw three wolves attacking a man. Rick said I must have imagined it. He says Oak Hollow is neutral territory, so it couldn't have been Werewolves, and that wild wolves don't attack people.”

Susie stared into her coffee cup, her brow furrowed. “I went outside this morning after Rick went to work. There were signs of a struggle and what might have been dried blood on the ground. This has always been such a peaceful place….” She looked up at me, her expression troubled. “Rick doesn't believe there's anything to worry about, but…” She placed one hand on her belly. “He says it's just my hormones acting up, blowing everything out of proportion, but I'm afraid something terrible happened last night, and that it will happen again. That it might happen to us.”



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