IK3 (23 page)

“Hell, if we stake her out, we won’t even leave bruises.”

“What’s she gonna do? Tattle to Baylor? Like he would care?” Scarface

asked. “Everything I heard is the guy is a real sadistic son-of-a-bitch.”

“My point,” Gully replied. “Who’s to say he won’t get us butchered slowly? I

say we leave her alone.”

“Suit yourself,” Scarface answered and turned to Hawk. “You still want in?”

Hawk grinned. “In is exactly where I want to be. Maybe we can take turns

doing her ass too.” He turned to Gully. “Sure you just want to watch?”

He hesitated. “Nah. I might as well get a piece too.”

They laughed and Chloe heard them shuffling to a stand. God! She couldn’t

even run, shackled like she was. Her hand curled around a small rock she’d

found lying on the ground earlier. At least she’d hurt one of them—and if she

was lucky, she’d knock him out.

One of the men grabbed her leg. She jerked up, swinging her arm hard and

then pitched forward as she met with only air.

A black blur moved past her, hauling Scarface off his feet. At first, Chloe

thought it was a bear, but then the biker—Hawk, she thought—pitched

against a nearby tree, his head making a loud crack as his neck angled

sharply. The blur moved so fast that she didn’t realize Gully had joined Hawk

at the bottom of the tree until she heard the second thwack. There was no

doubt both of them had broken necks.

Whatever was rescuing her growled and chased after Scarface, who ran for

his bike. Seconds later, she heard an agonizing scream and then there was

silence.

Eerie silence. From the dark shadows, a form emerged. In the dim

moonlight, it looked like a man, but who would have that kind of

supernatural strength? The bikers had all been large, burly men and

whoever—or whatever—this was, had tossed them about like ragdolls.

He came closer, the dying embers of the fire silhouetting his frame. The first

thing Chloe saw were fangs, dripping with blood—and hands that were

covered in it. She shrunk back as far as her chain would allow and slowly

looked back at the man’s face.

Gavin stared back at her.

When Chloe awakened, she was lying in a bed, covered with a down

comforter. The room was semi-dark, the curtains over a small window

drawn, but a tiny stream of sunlight shown through. It seemed to be a cabin

of sorts, rather rough-hewn, but where was she? As her eyes became

accustomed to the dim light, something stirred to her right. Turning her

head, she saw Gavin sitting in a chair by the small table, watching her.

Memories flooded her. The abduction, the near-rape, the blur that had

moved so fast she couldn’t make it out and then, Gavin. Gavin with bloodied

fangs.

Her heart raced momentarily and then slowed. Gavin looked perfectly

normal. No fangs, no blood. She must have taken a blow to the head or

something.

“Where am I?” she asked as she slowly sat up.

“You’re at the Glen Aulin camp in the High Sierras,” he answered, not

moving.

Chloe frowned. “How did I get here?”

“After you swooned, I carried you down to the car and then came here. It

was the closest place I could find.”

She was about to tell him she didn’t “swoon”, but since she didn’t have any

recollection of events, perhaps she had. At any rate, she didn’t feel like

arguing.

“How did you know where to find me?”

Gavin picked up the scarf that had been lying on the table. “Once I found

this, I followed your trail.”

“My trail? From the way it felt, we were on rocky terrain most of the time.

How could you follow a trail? Not that I’m not grateful.”

He hesitated, toying with the scarf. “What is the last memory you have?”

Dear Lord. She couldn’t tell him she thought she saw him with blood-

dripping fangs. For sure, he’d take her right down this mountain to the

nearest psycho clinic. “I’m not really certain,” she hedged. “I—things just

happened so fast. I thought I was going to be gang-raped and then I

thought I saw some sort of wild animal attack the bikers and then—and

then, I thought I saw you. Well, I mean, I guess I did see you, since you’re

here. But I don’t know what could have attacked those men…did you get

there in time to see anything?”

Even from where he still sat, she could feel his dark eyes penetrating hers,

but he said nothing.

“Did you see what it was?” she asked again. “Was it the dragon in small

form? It wasn’t white, but—”

“It was not the dragon,” Gavin said and laid the scarf down. “You saw me.”

“Well, yes. But what was that other thing? The one that moved so fast it was

just a blur?”

“That thing was I.”

“But how—” Before Chloe could finish the sentence, Gavin was seated on the

bed next to her. Her heart pounded, although whether from surprise or from

the sheer closeness of his male presence that overwhelmed her senses she

didn’t know. “How did you do that?”

He grimaced and the next thing she knew, he was standing by the foot of

the bed.

“I am a vampire.”

He couldn’t have just said that. She must be having an auditory

hallucination. Just because she thought she’d seen him with dripping fangs—

Geez. Maybe she had a concussion. “What did you say?”

“I said I was a vampire.”

She shook her head to clear it. “There aren’t any vampires—”

His fangs elongated.

Chloe drew in a deep breath. “Ah—”

With a snap, they retracted and he was sitting in the chair again, looking at

her solemnly. “You need not fear me, Miss Whitney. I would never harm

you. I know after what you witnessed, you might find that hard to believe,

but I have sworn to protect you. I had hoped to keep my identity secret, but

you were in danger. I only hope you do not find me overly repulsive now.”

She stared at him while her mind tried to process what he’d said. He wanted

to protect her—had protected her by swooping in like that guy from Twilight

saving Bella—only Gavin and she, unlike the movies, weren’t in a

relationship. “You saved my life. How could I find you repulsive?”

Repulsive? Gavin had come to her rescue because she was in danger, just

like a knight of old. It didn’t get much more romantic than that. If anything,

it just made the man sexier. Now that she knew his secret, maybe she could

lure him into bed with her.

Afraid? Hardly. Dangerous, maybe, but she trusted Gavin completely.

When she had decided to trust him, she didn’t know, but she did.

****

like a banshee. That’s what used to happen before he learned to hide his

identity. He would not have blamed her if she’d gotten hysterical, either. The

past twenty-four hours had been an ordeal and ended seeing him in full

vampire mode.

Instead, she had eyed him with what seemed like desire—a look so hot he

felt singed and wondered if he was the one who had gone mad.

He glanced down at her now, sitting beside him—close beside him—on a

rock near the waterfall, watching the sunset. She looked calm, but he

sensed she was seething with questions. He would try to be as honest as he

could.

“It will be dark soon and we can start getting back to the car,” he said and

gave her a rueful smile. “I work better at night.”

Chloe looked up at him. “I always wondered why you wore those shades.

How do you stand the daylight?”

“New meds make my skin less sensitive.”

She continued to study him. “How often do you need to…to…drink blood?”

“Not that often anymore. And there’s synthetic blood now. I rarely…do what

you saw.” Although had he been purely human, he would have done the

same thing to those bastards.

“Were you born a vampire?”

“No.” He waited, sure the next question would come—and it did.

“When—how—what happened?”

“The ‘how’ I am not sure of. I was wounded in a battle, near death. A

woman came—I thought to take me to heaven or maybe hell—but then I

woke up…as a vampire.”

‘When?”

Gavin hesitated. If he told her he was an immortal, she would either think

he was insane or she really would run screaming from his presence. As much

as he wanted to be totally honest with her, he could not. The knights had all

been sworn to secrecy.

“It’s been a number of years. But you have nothing to fear,” he said, both to

ease whatever doubts she might still have and to change the subject, “I can

control my urges.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “That I know. You’ve rejected me often enough.”

“What—” he started to say and then caught himself. God’s Blood! He hadn’t

meant those urges. “I have not rejected you. I was trying to save you from

what I am.”

The other brow went up. “What if I don’t want to be saved?”

He stared at her. “You know what I am. You saw what I am capable of—”

“And you just said you can control that. I’m not asking you to…to turn me, if

that’s the right word.”

“Then what are you asking?” Gavin asked before he thought to stop himself.

This conversation was going to get him into even deeper trouble.

Chloe stood, tugging at his hand. “Let me show you,” she said.

****

imagination had run wild for weeks now. At first, she had thought he might

refuse to follow her back to the cabin—he was still calling her Miss Whitney,

for Pete’s sake—but even English resolve had its melting point.

Undressing him was a surprising turn-on. Chloe knew she was no

seductress, but running her palms over his marble smooth, sculpted chest

brought a sharp intake of breath from him, although he remained stoically

mute. She felt his belly muscles contract as she unzipped his pants and slid

them—along with her hands—slowly down his thighs. His erection strained

against the black, low-cut briefs he wore and she stroked that massive,

jutting shaft slowly, teasing by circling a finger around its head.

With a growl that sounded feral, Gavin swung her onto the bed and on her

back, in one fell swoop managing to undo the buttons of her shirt at the

same time. Cool air assailed her bare breasts and then his large, strong

hand covered one of them while his warm breath fanned the other one. He

laved the aureole, circling it with his tongue, flicking over the nipple with his

tongue, while he rubbed the other hard tip between thumb and forefinger.

Chloe gasped and arched her back for more.

But Gavin seemed in no hurry. He left her breast, achy and needy, to trail

kisses along her collarbone and up her throat, lingering for a long moment

there, letting her anticipate whether a bite would come, but only his lips

moved across it lightly. He showered kisses along her jaw and cheek and

across her eyelids before descending softly on her mouth. Tugging the

length of her body against him, he brushed her lips, slowly sliding his tongue

between them, tasting her, exploring her mouth, as one hand roamed

leisurely up and down her side from her hip to her ribs, only slightly grazing

the underside of her breast just enough to drive her nearly insane with

desire. Chloe squirmed against him, wanting more.

She thought she heard him chuckle as he continued his slow, exquisite

torture, his hand now gliding down, undoing her jeans, sliding inside her

panties to cup her mound and knead gently, not quite giving the quivering

little nub there the pressure she wanted. She lifted her hips to help him rid

her of her jeans and wrapped her leg around his muscular thigh, striving for

more friction there.

“Not so fast,” he murmured, his mouth trailing down her throat again. He

lingered again, this time his tongue licking the pulsing artery. Chloe felt the

slight scrap of his tooth and leaned her head back, giving him access, not

caring if took her blood. She wanted all of him that she could get. But he

moved on. Before she could feel disappointed, his mouth covered her breast

and he drew deep on her nipple and began to suckle. Chloe whimpered in

sheer ecstasy as the delicate nerve endings came to life under the

alternating pressure—light and easy, strong and demanding, light and

easy—that he was masterfully using. The fingers of the hand that had been

palming her now delved deep inside her dripping core while Gavin’s thumb

circled the now-throbbing, hard bud of her center, rubbing it relentlessly,

causing the tension to build until she writhed beneath his touch, wanting—

needing—more…and then her body shattered like a thousand pieces of

fragile china.

Gavin moved over her, spreading her legs with his thighs and glided inside

her, making all her senses come together once again. The thick fullness of

him filled her as he pulled back and entered her again. And again. Chloe felt

his tip press against her womb each time with each thrust. She wrapped her

legs around him, encouraging him to speed up the antagonizing, slow pace

he’d taken. Lord, how much stamina and control did a vampire have,

anyway? Her skin was sizzling, heat pooling low in her belly, threatening to

erupt into a blazing inferno and yet, Gavin kept up his easy, steady pace, his