One and Only (5 page)

“Who were they targeting? Do you have any idea?”

“That’s the hard part. The magic wasn’t attuned to our kind, but neither was it attuned to any particular mortal that either Ian or I could discern. Plus we were working with only traces. Whoever cast the spell was skilled. Very skilled indeed.”

“Nobody knew I was on that bus. It was a last minute decision on my part to go up to the resort. There were only a few other passengers—all mortal. Love,” Atticus turned to Lissa, “you said you felt something as you boarded. Tell Marc what you felt. It might help solve this puzzle.”

Lissa put her wineglass on the low table. “If you like.” She turned to Marc and tried to put into words the feelings of dread that had hit her when she set foot on that shuttle bus. “There was a strong urge not to board, but it was generalized. I couldn’t be sure, and the moment I saw Atticus, he intrigued me. Distracted me really.” She sent Atticus a soft, teasing smile. “From him, I felt a different kind of energy—like I had just met my fate.” Atticus squeezed her hand in encouragement. “The two instincts were in conflict, but my desire to follow Atticus was stronger than the feelings of dread.”

“Thank heaven for that,” Marc said with feeling that surprised her. “If you hadn’t been on board and survived the crash, I doubt my good friend would still be among the living. No,” he held up a hand to stall Atticus’s response, “don’t object. I’ve sensed what was in your heart for months, brother. Without your One, you were nearly lost to us. Fate plays a bigger hand than we know. You were on that shuttle bus for a reason, Lissa, though you knew it was dangerous, you boarded anyway. That is significant.”

“You think so?” The idea was startling to her, but it felt right.

“I do. I also think, until we know more about who and what caused the crash, you both need to be careful. It’s unclear who the target was, but that wreck was no accident and quite a few innocents paid the price.”

Lissa was struck with renewed sadness at the reminder of the loss of life. That she’d survived when everyone else died was nothing less than a miracle. A miracle named Atticus. And if Marc was to be believed, if she’d succumbed to her injuries, Atticus would have had no reason to save himself. They would both be dead.

The idea that someone deliberately caused the wreck by magical means was nearly overwhelming, but she’d been exposed to a number of strange happenings in her life. The existence of vampires was only the latest—and admittedly most astounding—of many odd things she’d seen. The idea that magic was real was somewhat easier to accept, given her recent experiences.

“You think whoever did that might have meant it for one of us?” Lissa’s eyes widened at the thought. “I don’t have any enemies that I’m aware of. Particularly not of the magical kind.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but you yourself said you were psychic. Certain beings would have been able to sense your power and some might even target you because of it. The supernatural world is a more brutal place than your mortal one sometimes. We try to preserve a delicate balance between those of us who would leave humanity to their own devices and those who would seek to dominate and even enslave them. And there are even a few groups of mortals who are aware of certain aspects of the supernatural world and seek to eradicate it. If someone knew of your abilities, you could very easily have been the target of the magical tampering.”

Lissa held one palm over her racing heart. “I can’t believe it.”

Atticus squeezed her other hand, turning toward her on the couch. “But you must, my love. You must believe that the threat could be to either of us and act accordingly. For starters, I want you to move in here. We’ll go over to your apartment together and retrieve your things.”

“But not tonight.” Marc interrupted Atticus and stood to leave. “Ian is coordinating surveillance on Lissa’s apartment and a few other places. I want to know who the target of the wreck was and why. Tipping our hand too early might cause them to scurry away. If one of you is still being targeted, we’ll find out. The vineyard is well protected, but Lissa’s place is not. It makes sense for you to stay here then, milady, though it might seem odd to your mortal friends. You’ll have to inform them of a whirlwind romance and perhaps an impulsive wedding can be planned? You two can decide how to best handle that, but leave the dangerous part to me.”

“I hardly know what to say.” Lissa was at a loss. Marc was indeed a powerful man with a dominant way that she’d never encountered. Atticus was the strongest man she’d ever met. Before meeting him, she’d never dreamed the kind of man she fantasized about even existed. Atticus was perfect for her, but Marc…he was every bit as handsome, commanding and powerful as her new mate, though without the soft side that tempered her lover. He was formidable.

“Stay with your mate and be happy, milady. Let me handle the threat—if there is, indeed, any. We may come to find that another was the target and now that he or she is dead, the threat may vanish. Either way, it is far better to be safe than sorry.”

Atticus rose and stretched his hand out for a brotherly shake. “I can’t thank you enough, Marc. Lissa’s safety is the most important thing in the world to me.”

Marc nodded once. “Understandable. Even admirable. I envy you, my friend, and I aim to see that nothing threatens your future happiness. I’ll be in touch when I know more. For now, rest here and stay safe.”

They saw Marc to the door and Lissa was impressed by the low-slung, shiny black sports car he drove. That car had to cost more than ten years of rent on her apartment in the city and it purred like a big cat. These men—these vampires—were wealthy sons of guns.

Chapter Four

Atticus locked up the house, arming the security systems and making certain all was as safe as he could make it. They had hours until sunrise and he wanted to spend many of them making love to his new mate. But before they let passion carry them away, they had some planning to do.

He led her toward the indoor pool housed on the back side of the house. It had a glass roof that he could open to the night sky in warm weather. The pool was surrounded by lush, tropical plants and had a small waterfall to make it look and feel like a naturally occurring grotto in some exotic destination.

“This is gorgeous at night. I saw it earlier today, but it’s even more beautiful now.” Lissa moved toward one of the large bird of paradise plants and stroked its leaves as she gazed out over the water.

“I’m glad you like it. I spend a lot of time out here, stargazing and contemplating the infinite.” He moved to the small bar and poured two glasses of deep red wine, brought them toward the plush lounge chairs nearby. She sat and accepted one of the glasses, before he took the space next to her on the wide chaise. “Now, of course, I can sit out here and ponder you.”

She laughed and sipped at the wine, smiling at him over the rim of the crystal glass. He wanted to make love to her right then and there, but they had a few things left to discuss first. He could wait. But not too long.

He put one arm around her as they leaned against the low back of the long chair, putting their feet up. He’d never been so comfortable in his entire existence.

“Do you think your friends will accept that I swept you off your feet so quickly?” Atticus had seen the close relationship Lissa had with the small group of women she’d befriended in college while sifting through her memories during their initial joining. He kept the mental block between their minds in place for now, because he knew it was more comfortable for her to learn him slowly—and they truly had eternity to do so. He’d savor this time of learning her as she got used to him and his abilities.

“After they meet you, I think they’ll understand.” Her sexy tone teased him. Tantalized him. But they had to talk first, before he lost all caution and reason.

“I’d prefer to elope, but I know you want to have your friends at the wedding. How about we plan a ceremony for here at the vineyard? The grounds are beautiful at night. We could dress it up a bit with candlelight and soft music.”

“Sounds perfect. And when they see the setting, they’ll understand why we’re holding the ceremony at night. It’s so much more romantic.”

“I hoped you would think so. I’ll start the preparations with my staff as soon as it’s feasible.”

“You have a staff? Do any of them know what you are?”

“No, my dear. We keep our secret as close as possible. My on-site employees in the production areas don’t come to the house. It’s fenced off for privacy and they know not to trespass on my eccentric wish to be left alone. I have a business office in the city. I go there sometimes—especially in the winter, when night falls earlier—for late meetings with the marketing staff. I also make appearances at charity dinners and such, keeping up the appearance of a wealthy businessman who works for fun and not necessarily every day. I have something of a playboy reputation which helps explain why I work from home and am seldom seen during the day. Once in a while, I’ll brave the daylight and hold a meeting here in the media room. It’s on the interior of the house and safe from the sun. I designed it so the interior core of the house is accessible without having to pass near rooms with windows. All exterior rooms open onto a hall that separates the interior sections and allows me to move about without difficulty during the day.”

“Then you don’t have to sleep all day?”

“Like anyone, I do need some sleep, and I’m lethargic during the day, but I can stay up if necessary. It’s not the easiest thing, but I am ancient, my dear. Over time, I’ve gained abilities my younger brethren cannot claim. I can be awake during the day and can even stand low levels of indirect sunlight for short periods, every once in a while. I don’t dare go out of the house during the day, but I can always invite people here. Though I admit, I do look tired. My rare mortal guests probably attribute the circles under my eyes and the occasional giant yawn to my carousing lifestyle.” He chuckled.

“You like having that bad boy reputation, don’t you?”

He pretended innocence, enjoying her teasing. “It’s a cross I must bear.”

She turned in his embrace to face him. “Well no more, Atticus. You’re a reformed rake now, and you’ll be spending every night with me. Newlyweds are allowed a lot of leeway. I’ll keep up the illusion around the house during the day—at least until I become…like you.” She drew back to look up into his eyes. “Speaking of which, I want you to do it on our wedding night. I want it to be my wedding gift to you.”

The very idea stole his breath. That she’d be so willing to give up the sun for him was humbling. Atticus kissed her, unable to put his thoughts into words and needing to express his undying love in the most elemental way.

He lowered her to the plush padding of the overstuffed chaise, coming over her in a way that made her feel delicate and cherished. He had such a commanding presence, he overwhelmed her in many ways, but it was a delicious sensation and one she was surprised to discover she really enjoyed.

Atticus pulled back, smiling down at her. “So you like being my woman, eh?”

Lissa blushed as she realized their thoughts were twining as closely as their limbs. At times like these, the mental barrier Atticus held in place between them broke down. She felt his delight with the thoughts running through her head about his possessive actions. She also read the naughty images he sent her way—images of submission and tantalizing pleasure she’d only dreamed of to this point.

She considered herself a widely read woman and had even delved into a few erotic works of fiction. Some of the things that had intrigued her in those books surfaced in her mind as she saw the vivid images in her mate’s mind. He’d done more than just read about those things, though he was cautious enough to withhold specific memories of other women from her. It was a wise decision on his part, considering their position.

Still, the thought of his vast experience rankled. Compared to him she was the next thing to a virgin.

“But I like virgins.” Atticus leered at her in a comical way and she had to join him in laughter, punching his arm in a playful way. “Shall we play school girl and lecherous uncle? Or harem girl and sultan? Name your pleasure, sweet, and it shall be yours.”

Unbidden, an image formed in her mind, even as her cheeks heated. His eyes flared with heat as he moved over her with predatory motions. She was his captive, and they both knew it.

“Ah, I see. You want to play captured lady and pirate rogue.” He grinned and she could’ve sworn his eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness of the grotto. He looked around for a moment as if considering his options. “The setting is perfect, don’t you think? I’ve taken you prisoner and we’re hiding out in the lee of some Caribbean island. I like the way your mind works, my dear.”

“Well it is rather…tropical in here.”

“And you’ve read a good many pirate books, haven’t you?” He winked at her. “I’ll have to investigate some of those tomes. Purely for research purposes, you understand.”

She laughed. “I’d be delighted to assist with your…uh…research.” He swooped in to nibble on her neck playfully, then retreated with an abruptness that left her gasping.

Atticus stood and offered her a hand up from the lounge chair. She followed where he led, more than willing to let him guide her in this secret fantasy.

He tugged her into his arms and looked down into her eyes, suddenly serious. “I’ll spend the rest of my days fulfilling all of your fantasies, my love, as you’ve already fulfilled mine, just by existing and being here with me.”

“You say the sweetest things, Atticus.” She stood on tiptoe to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

When she pulled back, he bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her toward the lush foliage surrounding the well-camouflaged pool. He made a beeline for a young palm tree that had numerous vines growing around it.

“You’re my captive, milady,” he said as he dumped her onto her feet and placed her back to the tree. He tugged one of the vines free and used it to tie her hands behind her back around the tree. “In short, you’re mine. Best get used to it.”

Leaning back, it wasn’t uncomfortable. The tree supported her and the vines were strong, but soft against her skin. A few quick tugs told her it wouldn’t be easy to get out of the bindings. The vines were stronger than they looked.

Atticus backed off slightly, surveying her. She was wearing a lightweight cotton dress that was like many she owned. This one had buttons down the front, all the way to the hem.

“A real pirate would tear that pretty dress off your luscious young body,” Atticus mused. “But we haven’t any spare female clothing aboard and I don’t like my men lusting after what’s mine. They’ll do that enough just having you here. No need to make it worse by having you traipse around naked.”

He was getting into this role and Lissa found it easy to believe he might’ve once been a pirate. As the thought flashed across her mind, she saw a tall ship in his thoughts.

“You
were
a pirate!”

“You’ll soon discover that once a pirate, my dear…” he winked at her and tugged at the bodice of her dress, “…always a pirate.”

He made short work of her dress, unbuttoning it completely and pushing it down her shoulders to tangle on her bound arms. She wore a bra and panties beneath. The bra had a front closure, so it followed the dress, sliding down her arms and getting stuck about halfway to bunch between her shoulders and the tree. The panties, he slid down her legs, kneeling before her as he lifted first one foot and then the other to remove them completely. With a devilish grin, he tucked the pink satin into his pocket, and remained on his knees before her.

Lissa shifted on her feet, uncertain. He had that pirate gleam in his eyes again.

“Atticus?”

“You’re to call me captain, wench!”

Lissa jumped at the steel edge in his voice. He was staring at her crotch. When she noted the direction of his interest, he licked his lips, making her squirm. Reaching out, he slid one hand between her thighs, coaxing them apart. That hand rose up the inside of her thigh, tickling, teasing, tantalizing, until it reached the soft curls at their apex. He pet her then, watching her reactions as she trembled.

“Do you like this, wench?” Atticus slid one finger into her folds, stroking the nubbin that was already excited and awaiting his pleasure—and hers.

“Yes, captain.”

“Say ‘aye’,” he corrected her in a throaty purr.

“Aye, captain.”

“Good girl.” He stroked her more firmly in reward, making her gasp. His fingers moved deeper into her secret folds, spreading, testing and pinching her with practiced finesse. “You’re very wet, lass,” he observed. “I think you’ve done this before, haven’t you? I’ll lay odds you’re not virgin. Tell me, has your sniveling betrothed back in England been in here?” He rammed two fingers into her wet hole. “Has he had his cock in this wet pussy?
My
pussy?”

“No!” she keened, her head rolling from side to side against the trunk of the tree as he pulsed in and out of her tight core with his fingers.

“No?” He didn’t let up, but redoubled his efforts. “Then who was it? The footman?” She continued to shake her head. “The stable lad?” He pushed her harder, driving her higher. “The deck hand on the ship I took you from?”

Lissa climaxed on his hand, unable to stop herself. She came in a rush, gasping for air as he watched in approval.

“Ah, so it was the deck hand after all. Tell me, milady, did you like it? Did he make you come like I just did? Or was it a fast screw against the wall?” He took his fingers from her core, but moved closer, using both hands to spread her lips wide. “Did he lick you like this?” Dipping his head, he made her gasp as his tongue licked over her clit, stirring her passions once again. He ruled her pleasure. It was as if her body knew only his touch and would respond to him in ways it had never responded for any other.

He delved deeper with his tongue. She could feel his teeth beginning to elongate into the fangs that would pierce her skin and bring the brightest climax she’d ever known. He was gentle, but firm, and careful with those sharp fangs. He gave her just enough, never too much, but always just the right stimulation at the right time.

“Such are the benefits of sharing our thoughts,”
he said in her mind as he continued to drive her passions upward once again.
“And now it’s time to fulfill the rest of this little fantasy.”
He drew away just as she would have peaked, shaking his head and clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“You’re a greedy wench, aren’t you? With a greedy pussy that needs to learn who its new master is. Get on your knees, girl!”

Lissa was confused at first, but managed to sink onto her knees, her arms still drawn behind her around the tree, her dress pooled around her and under her knees, providing some padding. By necessity, her legs were spread, her ankles finding space on either side of the wide trunk.

When she looked up from securing her position, Atticus had undone his pants and was using one hand to stroke his hard cock, hovering just in front of her face. He smiled that devilish smile at her and she was lost.

“I can see you want this, wench. Tell me, did you suck your deck hand’s cock? Did he give it to you day and night?”

“Aye, captain,” she said boldly. It was time she started participating in this fantasy, she decided. Maybe there was a way to turn the tables on her lover. Eyeing him with a new, saucy attitude, she looked forward to trying.

“Naughty wench.” He chuckled as he stepped forward, placing the tip of his cock against her lips. “You know what to do with this then. Swallow me down, girl, and do your best. If you please me, I’ll go easy with the lash.”

He’d surprised her with that last bit. Was he going to whip her? The thought should have sent her running for the hills, but coming from Atticus, the threat made her hot. There was something seriously wrong with her, but it felt too good to worry about it now as she opened her mouth and took him deep.