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Authors: Amanda Stevens

BOOK: The Perfect Kiss
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Zach’s gaze narrowed. “Is that why you gave up modeling back then?”

“I gave up modeling because I could no longer face the public,” she said harshly. Anya drew her coat more tightly
around herself. “I couldn’t stand to look at myself anymore. I felt…tainted.”

“But it wasn’t your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Anya. I’ve never known anyone less tainted,” he finished softly.

“You don’t know the whole story.”

“I don’t have to know,” Zach said simply. “I know you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“But beauty is only skin-deep,” Anya said bitterly.

“Not in your case.”

The collar of Zach’s dark overcoat framed his face, dramatically highlighting his handsome features as he stared down at her. His eyes were darkly intense, his lips curved upward in the barest hint of a smile.

A smile that seemed to be an invitation to erotic mayhem.

To disaster.

Zach’s gaze once again moved to her lips, and in spite of herself, Anya parted them in response. His stare deepened.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered raggedly. “Right now, I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in this world…. And I perceive, by the way you’re looking at me, that you want me to. Am I still reading you wrong, Anya?”

At that moment, it wasn’t in her to deny it. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Only pure sensation ran through her now.

“Anya?” Her name was a whispered, desperate plea.

She lifted her gaze, letting him see the stark hunger in her eyes. His breath drew in sharply, and then his arms were around her, tunneling through the layers of wool to touch her through the thin fabric of her dress. With an
urgent inflection, he whispered, “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this?”

Anya closed her eyes and leaned into him. Her senses reeled from his touch. She trembled in his arms, and he pulled her even closer. “You’re so cold,” he whispered into her hair.

“Warm me, Zach,” she pleaded, lifting her face to his. “Let me feel your warmth.”

His arms were so strong and yet so tender. His touch so painful, and so very pleasurable. With one hand, he smoothed back her hair, and then, as though he could contain his desire no longer, he lowered his head and his mouth crushed hers.

Anya felt faint, dizzy with passion, reeling with hunger. Sensation after sensation roared through her. She pushed aside his coat, and beneath her hands, Zach’s heart beat a fast and dangerous rhythm. The blood pounding through his veins was like pure light. Like liquid fire.

Anya felt her skin heat to his touch, and her mind swirled to the scent of him, the feel of him, the sight of him. Faster and faster her senses spun. Delirium controlled her. Desire consumed her. Hunger drove her. She was poised on the edge, hovering on the brink of disaster, but she couldn’t step away. Not when Zach’s mouth was so hot and insistent on hers. Not when his hands were moving over her, heating every place he touched with pinpoints of delicious fire.

Using a tiny portion of her strength, Anya pushed him back against the column of the porch as she swept aside his coat. Her fingers tore at the buttons on his shirt. She was mad with need now. Passion and hunger raged inside until she could no longer determine which was the strongest. Didn’t care.
She wanted it all.
She wanted to touch him without barriers between them. She wanted to feel him with her hands and her lips and her tongue before…

His shirt ripped beneath her fingers and Zach groaned, an erotic, out-of-control sound that drove Anya wild. His desire fueled her desire. His passion drove her passion. His needs stirred her needs.

At last he tore his lips from hers, and clutching her to him, whispered, “Do you want this, Anya? Do you want
me?

“Yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes!”

The sound of her voice exploded inside Zach. His heart tried to thrash its way out of his chest. Slowly, he warned himself. Take it nice and easy. But how could he retain even a measure of control with Anya’s lips weaving a hot trail from his mouth to his neck? How could he sustain even a semblance of sanity with her fingers ripping away his clothes? The savageness of her passion thrilled him. He drew her closer, closer, until their hearts beat together in perfect harmony.

“We should go inside,” he muttered, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Let me take you inside….” His voice trailed off as Anya silenced him with her lips.

“Not yet,” she whispered against his mouth. “Please. Just one more kiss…”

Dear God in heaven, how could he refuse her anything? She was everything he had imagined and more, a tantalizing blend of moonlight and magic, of darkness and demons and dangerous innocence. She was
his,
he thought with a fierceness that astounded him.

Her kisses became even more frenzied. Zach could feel the sharpness of her teeth grazing against his skin. Her fingers moved to his throat, located his pulse point, and then her lips replaced them. Her tongue drew hot circles against his skin, sending his heart racing. He leaned his head against the column and closed his eyes, giving her passion free rein.

In a moment, he would take back control. In a moment, he would take her inside. In a moment, when the fiery sensations rushing through him weren’t quite so powerful, he would…

“Anya…” He whispered her name, and the sound echoed through the darkness. Through a deepening fog of passion, Zach became aware of another sensation. A sharp, stinging pain. “Damn!” Automatically, his hand went to his neck.

Anya stared at Zach in horror as her heart beat so fast she thought it would surely rip its way out of her breast. There was the faintest tang of blood on her tongue.

Zach’s blood.

Such a tiny drop of life. Such a small amount of warmth. Such sweet, desperate agony—

Oh, God.
Oh, dear God,
what she had almost done. What she still wanted to do with every fiber of her being. “No!” she sobbed, stumbling away from Zach, almost doubling over with pain as sensation after sensation tore through her.

Zach started toward her. “What is it?” he demanded. “What’s the matter with you?”

Anya kept backing away from him. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing away the torment, the temptation. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” He sounded genuinely mystified. “Look, we both got a little carried away. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, it was pretty wonderful.”


Wonderful?
Don’t you understand?” she cried desperately. She put her hand to the throbbing pain in her temple. The roaring in her ears sounded like a runaway locomotive. Anya thought she must surely be going mad. “I hurt you!” When Zach tried to reach out for her, she cried, “Don’t! Don’t come near me! Just go.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” he exploded in frustration.
“You’re making a federal case out of this. It was nothing! A harmless little bite.”

“I broke the skin,” she said, battling to keep those darker needs at bay. But even now, even in her horror, she still wanted him. She was so hungry, starving for what he alone could give her. She needed—

“I drew blood,” she whispered in horror.

“So what? I didn’t mind it. I loved it,” he said.

He didn’t understand. How could he? Even if she told him the truth, he wouldn’t understand, would never believe her. She had to get away from him, now, because the memories of what they’d just shared still lay fresh and warm between them.

“I want you to leave, Zach.
Now.

“I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s really wrong with you.” When she didn’t respond, he strode across the space between them and took her arm. She flinched. “Look at me, Anya,” Zach commanded. He grabbed her shoulders, spinning her to face him.
“Why?”
he asked, staring down at her. “
Why
are you so afraid of me?” When she didn’t answer, his hands tightened on her shoulders. “Is it because of him? Are you afraid I’ll hurt you, too? I promise you that won’t happen.”

“I just want you to go,” she said weakly. “Just go and leave me alone. You can’t help me, Zach. You’ll only hurt me, whether you mean to or not.”

Zach released her arms and stepped back from her. “
Damn
you,” he said, his anger swift and sharp. “Damn you for turning your emotions on and off so easily. Damn you for sending me signals I
know
I’m not misreading. And damn you for making me care.” He turned then, and strode off the porch.

In a moment, his car door slammed and the engine roared to life. The headlights arced wide as he made a U-turn in
the street, and for a second, Anya was trapped inside the beam. She winced, throwing up an arm to shield herself from the glare. Then he was gone, and she was left standing alone in the cold, dark shadows of her porch. Anya watched the spot where the taillights had vanished. What she had almost done to him! To
herself.

A wave of dizziness swept over her as she thought about the consequences. For years she’d lived in limbo, a wandering soul belonging neither to the light nor to the dark. What she had almost done would have sealed her fate for eternity. There would have been no turning back. No help for her then. She would have become as evil as the vampire who had tried to make her his.

Gershom. The very name chilled her blood. Anya wrapped her arms around herself, gazing at the sky. Like an omen, a cloud drifted across the moon, obscuring the light. The night grew colder, darker. More dangerous.

Anya shivered. She could almost hear his laughter riding the wind. Would he come for her now? Would he risk leaving his homeland to claim what he thought was his?

After tonight her growing passion for Zach could no longer be denied. Her intense hunger weakened her, and if Gershom did come for her, she might not be able to resist his deadly lure. He knew her secrets, her deepest, darkest fears, and he would use them against her.

He would use Zach to get her.

Anya closed her eyes as she leaned weakly against the front door. She felt sick, dazed. Her body still raged from the deprivation, but now she could stand the torment. Relished it, in fact. Because her agony meant Zach was still safe. She hadn’t taken from him what had been taken from her. She had resisted.

But Gershom would have no such compunction. Gershom
would revel in Zach’s pain. Gershom would taunt her with his power over life and death. Zach’s death.

The tighter the bond between her and Zach became, the more danger they were both in. Because Gershom would feel his own hold breaking. And that, he would never allow.

For Zach, the risk was his life.

For Anya, her soul.

* * *

When at last Anya fell asleep late the next day, she dreamed. Soft, misty-edged dreams of floating beneath a summer sun, of drifting contentedly on the ocean tides. Zach was in the distance, standing on a dazzling shore, beckoning to her with a smile as soft and intimate as a lover’s caress.

Come to me, Anya. Come to me now, forever.

Yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes!

As graceful as a swan, the boat glided to shore. Anya stepped onto the sand and into Zach’s arms. He held her, whispered to her, worshiped her with his tenderness.

And Anya desired him as a woman desires the man she loves. She wanted him to make love to her—gentle, passionate love, there in the sunlight.

Suddenly, a cloud blocked the sun. A dark shadow fell over them. Anya remained in Zach’s arms, but no longer did she feel pure. The evil inside her was growing, spreading, rising to the surface. She tried to shove it aside, but the darkness would not be denied. She could feel her mouth throbbing and opening against her will, could feel the sharp points of her teeth growing and strengthening and pushing against her lips.

And Zach was so close. His neck was just an inch away, and she could see the pulse there throbbing with life. She moved toward him, touched his skin with her lips, and he
groaned, pulling her closer. Her teeth raked across his skin, then sank deep into his neck.

“Anya!”

Her name was a terrible realization wrenched from his soul.

But Anya couldn’t stop, couldn’t release him. No longer would her thirst be denied. She took and she took and she took…until she could feel the life slipping from him.

The world was dark now. Dark and cold and filled with shadows. The warmth of the sun was lost to her forever.

Anya stared at Zach, at the empty shell that had once harbored such golden light, such a glorious vision. She lifted her bloodstained hands and gazed at them in horror as a terrible realization swept over her. Zach was gone and she was doomed forever.

You are mine, Anya. Forever and ever and ever…

The dark voice seemed to rise up from the water. She could hear Gershom’s laughter echoing through the darkness and knew that he was coming for her….

Anya woke up screaming. She lay in the shuttered room, trembling with fear and dread. As the sun began to set, she knew what she had to do.

CHAPTER NINE

I
t was all Zach could do to keep himself away from Julian’s studio the next night. He paced the floor of his apartment and thought about last night, about Anya’s fiery passion one minute and her terrified withdrawal the next.

He drank Scotch. He thought some more. He stared at pictures of Anya—magazine covers, newspaper articles, everything the clipping service had provided him. But nowhere did he find answers to explain her fear—not in his pacing, not in his drinking and not in her pictures.

Finally, he gave up and went to bed. When at last he fell asleep, strange, distorted visions plagued his rest, and he thought he heard a dog howling just outside his window, even though his apartment was fifteen stories up. When the phone rang just after midnight, he propelled himself upward like a tightly wound spring.

Zach squinted at the bedside clock as he cradled the phone against his ear, recognizing instantly the excited tones of his advertising manager. “Calm down, Hawthorne, and tell me what happened,” he demanded.

The younger executive sounded as though he were about to hyperventilate. He punctuated his words with gasps. “This was to be…the final…and most critical photo shoot of the…campaign.
Everything
hinged on it. Now the entire campaign is…ruined…because she didn’t show up…and she’s nowhere to be…found.”

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