Undying Desire (2 page)

“Where exactly?” Guerin couldn’t believe his luck.

“Der Roses Dorn.”

“The Rose’s Thorn? What is that? Some sort of club?”

“Yes,” Ana replied. “One that caters to those with a taste for the more…exotic in sexual pleasures. It’s the last place I saw her.” She turned to move away. Guerin reached out and gripped her forearm. Ana whirled. “What else do you want?” Her gaze flicked up to his. “I’ve given you what you came for. Now you can inform Marguerite that she owes
me
one.” Ana tugged at his hold on her wrist and dismissed him with a turn of her head.

“Not so fast.” Ana was loyal to Marguerite, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t be compelled to run her mouth about this little rendezvous, especially if she walked away with nothing to show for her cooperation. When she’d come on to him earlier, he had shut her down colder than a bare ass in Siberia. He could kill her and make for damn sure no one learned of his arrival in Germany. But one woman to assassinate was enough. Guerin took a deep breath. Ana had come through for him.

“What?” The heated glare Ana tossed his way declared she still wasn’t too happy with his earlier rejection. “You don’t want to fuck me, but you do want to stand here in the cold and freeze your balls off.
Pfft
.” She gave a slight jerk of her chin. “Americans.”

Guerin seized Ana’s other arm, and faster than she could utter another complaint, he shoved her under the cover of the building’s overhang.

“What are you doing?” she cried out as he took her farther beneath the shadows of the building’s roof.

“If you stop complaining, you might find out.”

He wedged Ana against the solid steel door that the shadows and the narrow covered passage hid from anyone passing by the mouth of the alley. Guerin braced one hand beside her head and leaned in. Her ragged breaths gave evidence to how much he’d rattled her.
Good.
Knowing he’d unnerved the vampiress was a bit of a rush.

“I said I wouldn’t fuck you,” Guerin began. “But I do have something I’m sure you’ll enjoy just as much.” He lifted his free arm and brought his wrist to his lips. Ana’s eyes widened and fire swirled in her pupils as he curled his upper lip back and exposed his fangs. Without hesitation, he sank them into his flesh, opening his vein. Warm, thick liquid coated his tongue. Guerin pulled his wrist from his mouth and held it up to Ana in offering.

Her upper lip curled back on a hiss, and she struck. Without mercy, Ana latched onto his open vein, drawing the essence from his body with hard pulls that nearly buckled his knees.

He groaned.

It’d been years since Guerin had fed another, and it was a trip down memory lane he’d rather not travel. With damn good reason. Those memories were an ugly road full of pain, betrayal, and foolishness on his part. His stomach roiled with Ana’s repeated sips and licks at his vein. She rocked into him, pressing her hips into his, and a vibrating mewl emanated from the back of her throat.

This bad idea needed to die a quick death. Now.

Guerin reached out with his mind and slipped easily into the distracted vampiress’s head. The quickest and most
humane
way to get a vampire female off your vein: take her down the shortest path to fulfillment. A journey she would no doubt appreciate to help satiate the growing arousal from her meal.

A mind fuck.

He stroked the bundle of neurons near her brain stem, signaling the pleasure center of Ana’s mind. She shuddered against him, gasped, and sent a rush of cool air skating across his wrist.

“Oh God, yes…” She moaned and pulled away, bumping her rear into the door. “I thought you didn’t fuck vampires?”

Guerin brought his wrist to his mouth and sealed the wound. He watched as Ana’s eyelids lowered and her head fell back. “I don’t.”

“What? But…” As if she were in the throes of a wet dream, Ana lifted her hands and slowly unzipped her cape. The crimson cloth fell open; she reached in and cupped both breasts with her palms.

“You were so very helpful, Ana,” he rasped. “Allow me to give you what
you
want.”

Her fingers tightened, sinking into her ripe flesh, squeezing her breasts as though she could milk the pleasure straight from her pores. “Oh, God…more!”

Ana’s heart pounded like a bass drum inside his head, and the scent of her arousal flooded the space between him. But unlike with human women, the pheromones she released did nothing for his libido.

With a mental tug on her pleasure cortex, he gave her more. Guerin increased the pressure, massaging her neurons into a pulsing fury of sensation. Ana’s hips bucked as if he’d thrust deep inside her core. She cried out and dropped a hand, reaching for the apex of her need.

“That’s it, Ana,”
he whispered inside her head.
“Let go.”

Guerin followed the path of her hand with his gaze as she pulled up her dress and exposed her black lace panties and garters to the night. He had to admit, she was lovely. But she was a vampire, and no amount of satin and lace could cover up that bitter fact.

She trailed her fingers over the lace covering her sex, clamped her palm over her mons, and ground the heel of her hand over the hidden bundle of nerves. Her breath hitched, and her back arched. Ana’s mouth fell open on a silent cry. Guerin held on to Ana’s mind, increasing the pleasure until her every muscle contracted, buckling her legs. He snaked an arm around her waist, taking the weight of her body, and she slumped forward onto Guerin’s chest. Warm, rapid pants of air heated his neck.

“No fair, vampire,” she mumbled lazily at his throat before lifting her head. “You play dirty. I didn’t get to finish my meal.” She licked the residual traces of his blood from her lips.

“Maybe…but you did enjoy your reward.”

“True.” Ana gave him a hint of a satisfied smile. She pushed away, tugged her dress down, and zipped her cape. “Pity you’re so opposed to making the experience a reality.”

Guerin flipped the collar up on his coat. “Not really.” He turned and made his way out onto the cobblestone.

“Bastard,” Ana shouted behind him.

In every sense of the word,
yes
, he was. And if Eve proved to be anything like her mother, she was about to meet the biggest bastard of her life.

Chapter Two

The vodka slid down Eve’s throat on a fiery trail and erupted inside her chest like a volcano.
Yes.
This was exactly what she needed to burn off the chill that had infiltrated her bones tonight.

“Mistress Fallon.” Eve lifted her gaze from her shot glass to the full-figured blonde who neared her table. She could almost hear her shift manager squeak as she approached wrapped in a black latex bodysuit. The outfit squeezed her ample breasts like pressure-filled balloons.

“
Ja
, Ingrid.”

“A man is at the bar asking to speak with the owner,” she said, her German accent turning her “thes” into “zees.”

Eve scanned the area in front of the massive brass-and-wood bar. “Which man?”

Ingrid pushed a lock of platinum-blond hair behind her ear and nodded in the direction of the tall man leaning against the far end. “That one,” she said. “Black leather coat and shoulder-length dark hair.” His back was to Eve, preventing a glimpse of his face. “I haven’t seen him here before, Mistress. But I would be happy to take care of our visitor any way you’d like.” A knowing grin spread across her lips.

If the male was one of Seth’s spies, turning him away would only ignite more suspicion. Besides, Eve knew how to handle nosy scouts.

“No.” Eve poured herself another shot. “Send him over.” She tossed another dose of heat to the back of her throat. It was a shame the bitter liquid never made her drunk. To experience one night of bliss-filled oblivion and have all her problems disappear would be nice. But no matter how much of the stuff she filled her gut with, it only provided a little warmth. That, too, was a rare find outside the bottle.

Eve ran her fingers through the long tresses of her red wig as the stranger rounded the bar and headed in her direction. The male strode toward her to the beat of Rihanna’s “S&M,” slicing through the crowd of dancers as though
he
owned the place. His body language screamed alpha male. A female didn’t have to be a two-hundred-year-old vampire to recognize a male who took what he wanted and made sure the woman enjoyed every minute of the taking.

Her nipples hardened into sensitive peaks. They brushed the lace of her bra with each breath, sending electric pulses straight to her sex. Eve crossed her legs, and her grip tightened on the empty shot glass.

The mere sight of a handsome man should
not
have her squirming in her thong. But males who looked like him didn’t stroll through her club every night, and her bed had been empty for much too long. Unfortunately, finding a lover—one she could trust when her eyes were closed—was a difficult task. And the anonymous sexual games played at the Rose’s Thorn had long since lost their appeal.

On a deep breath, she reached inside her mind and repressed the part of her DNA courtesy of her mother. He wasn’t close enough yet to detect if she was a vampire or not. But he was a stranger, asking for her, and Eve couldn’t afford to be careless and wave her hybrid ancestry around like a red flag. Except for her mother, whom she hadn’t heard from in far too long, she was alone in the world. So her best defense was offense. No one could hurt her if they couldn’t find or detect her. And with her secret heritage suppressed, any vampire within sniffing distance would register a human.

He came to a stop at her booth, his long black leather coat brushing against the dark jeans at his calves. The metal buckles on the sides of his boots glinted in the halogen spotlights that circled the perimeter of the club’s ceiling.

Eve slowly lifted her gaze. The layers of leather, denim, and cotton did little to hide the strength of the man beneath.

“Like what you see?”

The deep rumble of the question jerked Eve’s attention from her perusal. She glanced up and into a lopsided smile. The man’s dark complexion hinted at a Mediterranean descent, and wavy, dark-chocolate hair curled along the sides of his face. Long sooty eyelashes framed eyes the color of rich molasses—eyes that held a depth of wisdom well beyond the thirty-something years his appearance led one to believe.

Mysterious and provocative.

A lethal combination.

Not for him, but for the many women she was sure he lured into his bed with those looks.

She cocked a brow in his direction. “As a matter of fact—I do.” Eve tilted her head and tossed him a smile. Over the past two centuries, she’d been accused of a lot of things, but coy wasn’t one of them. She despised that particular quality.

If you liked something—wanted it—be woman enough to admit it.

“That’s nice to hear. Then perhaps this could be the path to a beautiful friendship.” He reached out, took her hand, and lifted it to his mouth, yet stopped as the warmth of his breath heated her skin. His gaze moved from their fingers and connected once more with hers. “And I do mean beautiful,” he uttered, before lowering his head and brushing a kiss over the surface of her knuckles. Her breath hitched at the contact, and Eve captured her lower lip between her teeth.

Damn.
He was good.

She could easily imagine him scratching her itch in every conceivable way or position.

Eve tugged her hand from his grasp and went for her bottle of Stoli, doing her best to squelch the tremble rolling from her stomach to her fingers.
Shit.
He was already starting to piss her off. No one got under her skin, especially a man. And the fact that this one had from the moment he’d walked across the room was unsettling her.

“So how can I help you, Herr…?” She poured another shot and returned the bottle to the table.

“Lombardi. Guerino Lombardi.”

“Herr Lombardi.” Eve gave a slight nod and brought the glass to her lips for a sip. The lingering spicy scent of man and sandalwood drifted off her fingertips. Eve inhaled deeply—and froze.

Son of a bitch.

How in the hell had she missed the unmistakable pheromone?

He was a creature of the night. She knew he was too good to be for real
.
Eve was slipping. She should have picked up on the scent of her own kind—or half her kind—the moment he’d stopped at her table. But she’d been too enamored by the whole alpha male aura and good looks. A mistake that could have had deadly consequences.

Oh, she had plans for this rogue.

“So what brings you to my table?” Eve downed another sip of vodka, then licked the remaining traces of alcohol from her lower lip. She didn’t have to look to know he watched her every move. She could feel it.

“I’m looking for a woman.”

Curiosity killed the cat. But just wait and see, Guerino Lombardi, what happens to overly inquisitive vampires.

Eve glanced up. “And you need
my
help? Strange,” she said. “I would have taken you for a man who didn’t need the help of others in that matter.”

“Smart and beautiful. I appreciate those traits in a woman.” He smiled and placed his hand on the back of the seat opposite her side of the table. “May I sit?”

She nodded.

He slid onto the cushion, and the confined space of their two-seater booth showcased his large build.
Yum.
Such a damn shame he had to be one of Seth’s scouts.

“You think I can help you find this woman, Herr Lombardi?”

“Please, call me Guerin,” he said, and propped an arm along the length of the backrest.

“Guerin?” Eve quirked a brow in his direction. “Hmmm… Friends already, are we? My, you do work fast.”

He released a short but deep chuckle. “A less formal approach is a much nicer way to communicate. Don’t you agree, Mistress Fallon?”

“Yes…it can be.” She smiled. “On occasion.” Eve moved forward, resting both arms on the table and lacing her fingers. “So tell me, Guerin, who is this woman you’re looking for?”

“Eve Devonshire.” Guerin dropped his arm and placed his forearms on the table. “Can you tell me where to find her?”