My Vampire Cover Model (4 page)

Oh. My. God
. This kind of connection shouldn’t happen this fast. These emotions couldn’t be real. Burn Sheridan was a stunning-looking man, but it was more than the outer package, just as he’d said. Getting a glimpse at the man underneath had seized her soul.

“It’s all right, Burn. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Come and sit down. We haven’t even had dinner yet.” Burn didn’t reply. Deanna’s hand moved down his arm. The muscles bunched and tensed under her touch. “This is a beautiful place you’ve brought me. Let’s enjoy the meal together. Please.”

All the apprehension left his body. They stood together for a few minutes, and Deanna didn’t care that the other patrons stared at them curiously. Finally, they sat back down in the booth.

“Your eyes changed color. Why?”

Burn’s intense gaze swept over her. “I’m not human.”

Did I just say that
?
Bloody hell
. Over the centuries he’d become quite adept at lying. Yet, with Dean, it seemed he wasn’t capable of mendacity. Maybe it was a side effect of feeling the connection? She looked at him like he had spiders crawling out of his ears. Should he deny what he’d said and brush it off as a lame joke?
I hadn’t planned on springing the “I am a vampire” shite on her in the restaurant. Too late now
.

“Not human?” she scoffed.

Aye, this is not going to be easy
.

“That’s what I said, love. Not human. My eyes change to silver when I’m feeling intense emotions such as anger or—arousal.”

Dean’s laughter mocked him. Disbelief shone in her gorgeous eyes.

“This is rich. Burn, you’re funny.”

He grabbed her wrist with lightning-quick speed.

“Do not laugh. I am a vampire. I am not lying.”

Burney could not really control when his fangs lengthened. They usually did when he hungered. He willed them to lower and surprisingly, they did. He flashed them so she could see them.

Dean’s eyes widened in fear, and she struggled to pull out of his grasp, but he squeezed tighter. His emotions flew off the grid. Blood roared and pounded in his veins and hardened his cock to rigid steel. His skin sizzled with the need to connect in the most carnal way imaginable. Just touching her ignited his body to the very marrow of his bones. He snarled, but it was not meant in menace. Dean stopped struggling and stared at him in shock. The waiter arrived holding the plates of food.

“Charge the meals to room one twenty-six and have them delivered. Now,” he growled.

With his thumb, Burney tenderly stroked the veins on her wrist. A soft, sexy moan escaped Dean’s lips.

The waiter stepped back.

“Right away, sir.” He scurried off.

Burney stood and brought Dean to her feet.

“We’re going to my room. We have much to discuss.”

That also eliminated the “how am I going to eat the food” question. He pulled her toward him, until her breasts pushed against his chest. He could feel her nipples harden at the impact, and it served to stoke his passion further. Dean shook her head as if trying to clear her mind of the sexual, desirous fog.

“Let me go.”

At least she didn’t sound frightened.
Well, earlier I saw fear. Now she must think I’m a complete nutter
. He couldn’t put a handle on her emotions, as they were all over the map, changing in intensity from anger to disbelief and to his great satisfaction, arousal.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I will never let you go.”

Burney pulled her toward the door and she didn’t fight him. Dean cursed under her breath. He smiled. She was fiery, and he couldn’t help but wonder how that passion would play out in his bed?

They walked down the long hallway to his room. Burney reached in his pocket for the card key, swiped the lock, pushed the door open, and then let go of Dean’s wrist long enough to gently guide her into the room with his hand splayed across her back. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Closing the door, he motioned for her to sit at the table in the corner. The suite was large and very comfortable, complete with a smaller cobblestone fireplace. The rustic but cozy feel brought back memories of another time. Between the living area and bedroom was a small kitchenette area with a bar fridge. A microwave oven and coffeemaker sat on the counter.

She grumbled but sat down. “All right, you got me alone. What happens next? Should I be scared?”

Before Burney could answer, there was a knock at the door. He strode across the room, pulled it open, and took the tray with the covered plates. They also brought him the wine they’d left behind.
Excellent
. He tipped the waiter, closed the door with his foot, and then laid the food next to the microwave. Perhaps a few drinks would relax Dean for the conversation ahead. He wished he were able to feel the effects from it. He could use a reprieve from the tension rolling through his body. He poured the wine into the goblets provided, walked back to Dean, and held one out to her. She looked at the drink like he’d offered her poison. Burney smiled and nodded. Reluctantly, she took the glass and sipped.

He sat across from her. “You should never fear me. I would not hurt you in any way.”

“So says the supposed vampire. Burn, I think you have been playacting too long. You need help, of the professional head-shrinker kind.” She set the glass on the table and stood. “I’m going home, and I would appreciate it if you don’t ever contact me again.”

Burney jumped to his feet and backed her against the wall. He took her wrists and raised them above her head, holding them loosely so she could easily escape. He gave no quarter, no chance for her to protest and talk back. He kissed her and claimed her, then and there. In his heart, he knew. The taste of her confirmed his suspicions. The mate-of-the-soul connection pulsed with life. A husky growl of male satisfaction left his throat. His tongue danced with hers. At first, Dean seemed stunned, but she soon joined the intensity of the kiss. Burney moved his body closer until they were joined together to form one entity. He let go of her wrists, and her arms went around his neck. Lowering his hands to her shapely ass, he lifted her and pulled her right against his throbbing cock.

Claim her. Drink from her. Fuck her
. The voice in his head repeated the words over and over.

This had never happened with any woman in all his decades. There were many vampires who indulged in sex as often as they took a breath. He had never been one of those promiscuous vamps. He’d had a few long-term mistresses through the many decades, and he’d stayed faithful to them until each affair ran its course. Never had he felt this pull to unite, connect, and claim. He ground his hardness next to her thigh. Dean moaned, wrapped her leg around his, and clamored to get even closer to him, somehow. Burney was near to losing all control.

The kiss deepened, and her heart pounded as fast as his. Yes, he had a heart and a soul, but never had either felt alive as they did in this moment.
Cock. Inside her. Now
.

She gasped and pulled back.

Bloody hell. Did I say that out loud
?

Dean pushed him away.

“This is too much, too fast.”

No, it wasn’t, not for him. He exhaled and tried to regain control of his body and emotions.

Dean sat down. Burney managed to find his way back to his seat.

“I told you, there is something between us, and it’s more than lust and more than longing. The taste and feel of you proved what my heart told me yesterday. You are the mate of my soul.”

He expected her to laugh and dismiss his declaration. Instead, Dean looked confused and hurt.

“All of this, it’s not real,” she whispered.

“Aye, my sweet, it’s real. What you’re feeling and what your heart is trying to tell you is real. I sense your doubt about my life-state. I am a vampire. What proof do you require?”

He stood, walked to the tray, and snatched up a steak knife. Burney hesitated, but shook off his few remaining doubts. Sitting down, he rolled up his sleeve and sliced the knife across his forearm. Dean cried out in shock as the deep gash bled profusely. He swiped the blood away with his fingers and the wound began to repair itself, skin knitting together until there was no sign he had even cut himself.

He laid the knife over his arm. “Shall I cut again, love?”

Deanna gazed in disbelief at Burn’s muscular forearm. Her insides coiled in apprehension again. Through the light dusting of black hair, there was no visible proof of the deep slice he had given himself only moments before. There was blood on his fingers and drops of blood on the table. The sickening, coppery smell still hung in the air. He’d bled. She’d seen the injury and the cut was deep. It had repaired itself immediately.

Burn didn’t wait for her reply. He carved his arm again in a different place. Deanna cried out in shock but was soon mesmerized by the sight of his skin fusing together a second time. She glanced up at the man sitting before her, if you could even call him a man. He wasn’t human. His eyes changed color. They were silver now and glittering with emotion. He had fangs.
Friggin’ hell, a vampire
? How cliché was that? This situation was the stuff of teen fantasies. Well, at least he didn’t glitter or shimmer or whatever those fictional vampires did.

She had only one inane thought. “Does it hurt?”

“Aye, every time, but it doesn’t last long.”

Deanna shook her head and tried to shake the confusion from her mind. The man knew how to kiss and ignite her body into raw flame. Even now, she sizzled—for Burn. God, when he’d had her against the wall…. She moaned aloud, thinking of his touch. His eyes turned pewter.

“Do you believe me?” he rasped.

Run, goddamn it
. But she couldn’t. She felt compelled to stay. Was he using some Vulcan-vampiric mind meld on her?

“Can you read minds? Force people to do things they don’t want to?” Deanna asked.

“No to both, but I could erase your memory so you would forget we even met. It comes in handy after feeding on a human. We erase their mind. The puncture marks heal immediately, and they wake up the next morning thinking they have the flu.”

Oh God, of course
. “You drink blood. Wonderful.”

Burn leaned back in his chair. “You think I run around skulking in dark alleys searching for victims to feed on? Those days are long gone. They went the way of the horse and buggy and gas streetlamps. Vampires procure their blood by more modern means. There is a worldwide network that distributes blood in an orderly manner. I drink from a plasma bag a few times a week. It is enough to sustain me.”

Deanna shook her head. This situation just got better and better. Tamping down her uneasiness, she moved forward with her questions.

“What is all this mate-of-the-soul talk?”

Burn tented his fingers. “Just what it means. It doesn’t happen to every vampire, and sometimes the soul connection happens more than once. Rarely is it a human—just my bloody luck. You feel it, too. You felt the bond at the bookstore when we first looked at each other.”

“The overpowering scent?”

“Aye. The aroma is often too much for a human to process. But the more you are in my company, the more you adapt.”

It took all of Deanna’s inner strength to stand. “Take me home.”

Burn inclined his head to the counter. “Your dinner has grown cold. You can heat it in the microwave. Stay and eat, at least.”

“I couldn’t eat. Just get me out of here. Or I’ll call a cab.”

Burn’s eyes turned black, then back to silver. He looked annoyed, but there was no mistaking the hurt. Her heart clenched in compassion, but she shook off the emotion. She had to get away from him and his mesmerizing presence, his molten touch, and his overwhelming kiss.

Finally Burn stood, fished his car keys out of his pocket, and held his arm out toward the door. “After you.”

Even though her home was four blocks away, she didn’t want to walk in the dark. She’d never liked doing so. Besides, Burn insisted he drive her. They didn’t speak the whole way to her street. The car was eerily quiet, as if she were in a dark, cool cave. Deanna stole a glance at Burn. He frowned, his full, sensual lips drawn into a taut, rigid line. His arm was draped leisurely over the top of the steering wheel, but there was nothing relaxed in the rest of his body language. His lean, muscular frame drew tight, as if his whole body was one giant fist.

He pulled into her driveway and did not move to open her door as he had done before.

Deanna reached for the handle but before she could step out, Burn said, “When do you get off work tomorrow? Might as well tell me, Dean, or I will just sit outside the store until I see you come out. We aren’t finished.”

“Yes, we are. Sit outside all day. It’s your choice. But I don’t want to talk to you or see you.”

Deanna climbed out and slammed the car door. Burn backed out and squealed the tires as he roared down her street.

***

Three hours and a hot-then-cold shower later, and Deanna still couldn’t sleep. Her body thrummed with yearning from Burn’s touch and kiss. Never, ever had she experienced such intense feelings. The sensation was damned scary and confusing. Not only the lust, but his insane declaration of being a vampire.

Deanna’d had to get away from him or she would have knocked him to the carpet and crawled all over him. No man had ever worked up her desire so much before. Was he a man? Obviously, if the huge erection he pressed next to her had been any proof.
Vampire
. His explanation seemed so—stupid. There was no mistaking the fangs, his eyes, and he’d cut himself and healed right in front of her, twice no less. Why wasn’t she more terrified? Did the scent he radiated calm her in some way? Did he turn into a bat? How much of the movie myth was correct? What did he mean about being alone and lonely? She had to admit, his heartfelt confession had touched her deeply. How could such a stunning-looking man be lonely? Then again, if one lived for hundreds of years, who wouldn’t be lonesome?