Amaury's Hellion (4 page)

Nina lowered her lashes to gaze at his mouth and saw his lips part as if in invitation. Firm and sensual lips which beckoned for a brush against them, if merely to confirm she wasn’t dreaming the perfection in front of her.

No. Still the enemy. Bad vampire.

She could resist this temptation. She was strong – until he exhaled, and she took in his breath – musky and earthy. His scent was intoxicating, drugging, as if it contained a secret substance designed to make her dizzy. Moistening her dry lips, unable to think clearly now she stretched upwards and tilted her face toward him. Was he leaning toward her now, or was it an illusion?

Really bad vampire.

Yet, so enticing.

No!

She had to fight this, fight him.

Improvise!

Yes, she had to turn this around, make it her advantage. Find his weakness.

Think! You’re a smart woman, damn it, think!

That was it: a woman. She was a woman, and his weakness was women. She’d seen him in the company of many of them—yes, she could use that. It could work.

Or blow up in your face.

Nina didn’t listen to her doubting inner voice. Instead she inched forward once more, closer to his perfect face and pressed her lips to his.

He appeared startled, his lips remaining rigid for a moment. But then his hands released their deathlike grip on her arms, and he pulled her into his body. One hand circled her waist, the other steadied her head, his strong fingers burying themselves in her curls the way a lover would. Her heart leapt with relief—it was working. She would be able to distract him and escape.

But the moment his lips responded to hers, and his tongue invaded her, her body took over. His kiss flipped the off switch to her brain and shut out every sane thought she’d ever had—wiping her brilliant plan from her mind as if it had never existed.

***

Amaury drew the human female closer to him, crushing her breasts into his chest. Her short blonde curls felt soft under his hand, like silk.

As soon as he felt her lips part under light pressure, he responded with a guttural moan. And then he kissed her back. She welcomed his tongue dueling with hers, encouraging him to explore her. He wouldn’t disappoint her. Angling his head, he sought a deeper penetration and found her eagerly accepting his demand.

In her shapeless clothes he’d mistaken her for a juvenile delinquent, not the warm and willing woman she turned out to be. But what had really thrown him for a loop was the fact he couldn’t pick up on any of her emotions, which was more than a little unnerving and—fascinating.

Frankly, for once he could kiss a woman without focusing on his release. It felt like a gift from heaven to be able to enjoy a kiss like the one he now shared with her. A kiss full of fire, passion, and desire. He had no idea why she kissed him, who she was, or what she wanted, but her body pressed against his felt utterly right.

Of its own volition his hand dipped below her waist, splaying over her rounded derrière. With a groan, Amaury hauled her against his growing erection and took charge.

Her lips tasted of vanilla blossoms, of innocence. He inhaled her scent, taking it in deep and letting it fill him. Waves of pleasure poured through his body, igniting the lust he kept barely checked within. Her taste was intoxicating, purely female, and indescribably sexy. Unwilling to hold back, he ravished the caverns of her mouth like an invading barbarian, wild and savage.

Instead of withdrawing from his assault, she flung her arms around his neck as if to ensure he wouldn’t stop. No chance of that happening, not as long as his cock throbbed with need and her tongue sent tiny shocks through his body every time she stroked against him. The woman knew how to drive a man insane with her kiss.

Her sweet taste was like ambrosia to him, like a long lost delight he had forgotten about. She reminded him of emotions long buried and stirred his flesh like no other woman had in four centuries.

Under his greedy hands, he captured the warmth and softness of a female overflowing with passion, a woman who could match his own needs. The sounds of pleasure coming from her were like bursts of little fireworks to him, stoking his desire even more. It made him want things he’d never dared acknowledge: closeness, affection, warmth.

Amaury caught her next moan and swallowed it down where it ricocheted in the cavities of his chest, bouncing off his lungs and against his cold heart. And for one instant, a spark ignited where his pounding heart lay almost frozen.

The next second, his heart beat faster than it ever had before. A moment later he heard a sound behind him.

Danger!

Out of reflex, he released her instantly and swiveled. Behind him was only darkness. Nobody else was on the roof but the two of them.

The moment he turned back to her, she’d already moved away from him and sprinted toward the edge of the building. A second later she was gone. He heard the loud
thump
and followed the sound. As he reached the edge, he looked down. Beneath him was the alley he so often took on his way home, and there, at the end of it was the woman, running away from him.

“Wait,” he called out to her. “Who are you?”

But she’d already rounded the corner and was out of sight. Amaury swallowed. He could still taste her on his tongue, still feel the ghost of her soft form pressed into his body. What the hell had just happened?

He shook his head. Generally he was the one doing the seducing. But this time, a woman had turned the tables on him. And he liked it. A lot. It was a shame she hadn’t gone any further. Why had she suddenly run when everything was going so well?

And why hadn’t he been able to sense her emotions, not a single one of them, when only minutes earlier his head had throbbed painfully?

The only reason he’d discovered her following him was because he’d heard her footsteps, but her mind had been completely and utterly silent. As if she had no emotions. Yet, her passionate kiss had said differently.

Maybe something was happening with him. Was it possible that the sessions with his shrink Drake had somehow helped? It could be a start, a sign his curse was waning.

As he turned and walked back toward the stairs, he stumbled over something, but caught himself instantly. He bent down and picked up the item. His breath caught, and his heart beat in his throat. The instant his fingers touched the wooden implement, he knew what it was. Its shape was known to him and any vampire and feared by all of them.

A wooden stake.

Four

Despite his relentless efforts for the remainder of the night, Amaury could not find a trace of the mystery woman by the time he was due to meet Carl. In fact, he’d spent so much time on the search he’d neglected his other assignments. The darn woman was screwing with his head, and he was getting increasingly testy about it.

That rotten little bitch had kissed him with full knowledge that he was a vampire. And why? So she could kill him. She had completely distracted him. With a kiss!

He of all people should be utterly immune to such distractions, given he was an expert concerning sex and all things ancillary to it. To play him like he was some randy idiot! The gall the woman had.

She was in for a severe spanking once he found her. And he would find her—eventually. And then the gloves would come off, and he would give her what she deserved. She would be in for a lethal dose of Amaury.

Nobody made a fool of Amaury LeSang—or at least, nobody got away with it. Least of all a human woman.

A honking horn alerted him to Carl who had pulled up with the car. Amaury opened the door to the black limousine and got into the passenger side.

“The car looks dirty,” Amaury admonished.

Carl had an annoyed look on his face. Perfect. Two pissed-off vampires together in one car. The night couldn’t possibly get any better than that.

“I know. That useless construction crew blocked the entrance to the garage, so I had to keep the car parked outside. I wouldn’t be surprised to find scratches on the paint.”

“Yeah, sucks.” His comment wasn’t meant for Carl, but for himself. Where the hell was that woman hiding? Why kiss him like that, with such passion as if she meant it, when all she wanted was to kill him? Even hours after her kiss, he could still taste her, and it drove him insane.

“Did you preview any homes tonight?” Carl asked.

As Samson’s personal broker, Amaury took care of all of Scanguards’ real estate investments, as well as Samson’s properties.

Amaury shook his head. “Something came up.”

Yes, his dick.

Which, by the way, was
still
up. Just thinking about the little blonde devil kept him in a permanent state of readiness.

“I didn’t get a chance. But there are a few houses that just came on the market. Some of them might work for Samson and Delilah. I’ll check them out tomorrow night. With the baby coming, they’ll definitely need more space now.”

He reached into his jacket pocket. In anticipation of previewing homes he’d taken his lockbox key with him. It would give him access to vacant homes for sale without making it necessary for the listing agent to be present. A neat system, especially since he could only view homes at night. And luckily, the medieval myth that a vampire needed to be invited into a home was simply untrue, otherwise being a real estate agent wouldn’t be the smartest career choice for a vampire.

In silence, they rode to the private airport several miles south of San Francisco. Scanguards had its own planes, specially equipped to transport vampires during daytime hours. Taking commercial planes was too risky.

Carl parked at the edge of the tarmac, killed the engine and looked at his watch. “They should land in a few minutes.”

Amaury drummed his fingers on his thighs. He wasn’t in the mood to meet his old friends anymore, since it took him away from his search for the human woman who had so thoroughly kissed him. It irked him that so far he’d been unable to find her anywhere. As soon as he could, he would resume his search. He didn’t have much to go by—only her scent—but she would not escape him.

The roaring sound overhead announced the descent of the private jet. Minutes later it came to a complete stop at the other end of the landing strip. Carl drove the car up to the plane as the doors opened.

Gabriel was the first to step out. Always with a flair for the dramatic, he emerged clad in black jeans, dress shirt, and leather coat. Coupled with his large scar, he represented authority and confidence. And as New York’s number one, he wielded considerable power within the company. Only Samson was more powerful.

Amaury was on equal footing with Gabriel. In the past, their internal power struggles had caused some strife. However, ever since Amaury had moved to California, their fights had subsided, and their friendship had taken priority.

Amaury jumped out of the car to greet his old friend. They clasped each other’s right arms. “Good to see you.”

“It’s been a long time,” Gabriel replied.

“Not long enough,” a female voice came from the steps.

Amaury looked into her direction. Yvette, as sexy and ravishing as ever, glided down the stairs. Leather pants and a tight pink top accentuated her alluring curves. Her short black hair was styled back, away from her flawless face. Women would kill for a face like hers.

“Still sore?” Amaury forced himself to grin. He wasn’t going to allow her to get to him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Amaury.”

She stepped down with her long and sexy legs, the same ones he remembered all too well being wrapped around his waist a long time ago. Amaury shook the image off and focused his eyes back on the present.

Yvette stopped next to her boss, maybe a little closer than their work relationship would suggest was necessary. “You’re not
that
memorable.”

He knew he was, but he’d gain no satisfaction from trying to prove it to her. It was better to let sleeping lions—or lionesses—sleep before her claws came out.

Gabriel turned to the jet’s door. “Quinn, Zane, what the hell is keeping you? We’ve gotta beat sunrise.”

“Coming!” came the answer. A second later, Zane appeared in the opening, two bags in hand. “Luggage. Hey, Amaury, can you give me a hand?”

“Allow me,” Carl interrupted and reached for the bags Zane handed down.

“Thanks, Carl.”

Having rid himself of the luggage, Zane shook Amaury’s hand. His head was shorn bald, and despite the lack of hair, he was a handsome devil. Lean and tanned, dressed in faded blue jeans and a white polo shirt, he had a casual air about him. But Amaury knew better.

Zane was a mean fighting machine: fast, ruthless, and lethal. He would never want to get on his bad side, not that Zane had a good side.

“Good to see you,” Amaury addressed him. “I feel better knowing you’re joining the fight.”

Zane’s mouth twisted, but it didn’t quite amount to a smile. “Anything for a good fight. Gabriel rarely lets me get into the action.”

A sideways glance at Gabriel showed Amaury that the New York boss graced them with an impatient look, his mouth twisting to one side. “And Zane knows exactly why.”

Sounded like a reprimand in Amaury’s ears. Zane seemed to shrug it off as if he was made of Teflon. “It’ll be like the good old days.”

“I don’t recall the good old days being all that good,” came Quinn’s voice from inside the plane. A second later his strawberry-blonde head popped out. He had a light complexion, light hazel-colored eyes, and a boyish smile. His age was frozen forever at south of twenty. He took it as liberty to behave his apparent age, even though he was well over two hundred years old.

“Maybe not for you,” Zane retorted, “but for Amaury and me, things were pretty entertaining.”

Not quite sure which one of their many battles his old friend referred to, Amaury only nodded. Not that he’d call it entertaining. Gruesome was probably a better word. Most fights Zane was involved in turned into a mess of blood and gore.

Quinn finally stepped out of the plane, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m ready.”