He had to reach for his voice, and when he found it, it was gravel. “Iwould not mind hypnotizing you to do my bidding, but somehow I think you can please me without such help.” He was finding it difficult to think straight, his mind a cloud of erotic desire. Water lapped at his hips as she moved closer.
Her breasts brushed his legs, sending ripples of fire through his bloodstream. She pushed against his knees so that he was forced to open them to accommodate her. Her chin nudged his lap. “I have to think of the best way I might please you. You have all sorts of interesting ideas running around in your head. I need to find the best one, don’t you think?” Her breath was warm silk, breathing more life into his rigid body. Her tongue caught a drop of water, savored it.
Jacques groaned at the pleasure shooting through him. His legs circled her naked body, drawing her close so that her soft mouth was level with the throbbing velvet tip thrusting toward her. Deliberately he inched his body forward. Bubbles frothed and burst around him; her hair washed over his legs, tangled around him, weaving them closer together. He found he was holding his breath, no longer able to get air.
The touch of her mouth was like hot silk. Jacques’ mind seemed to dissolve, his body trembled, and his heart exploded in his chest. He felt as if his very insides were coming apart. His body was no longer his own, no longer under his control. Shea was playing him like a musical instrument, all throbbing notes and building passion. He could only watch her helplessly, ensnared in her web of beauty and love.
He caught her head in his hands, bunching wet hair in his fists. No one, nothing, in all the long centuries had prepared him for the intensity of emotion she brought out in him. He knew what it meant to know he would gladly die for someone.
Jacques’ thumb raised her chin so that her green eyes met his black gaze, so that she could easily see into his soul. For all his faults, for all his clumsy handling of their relationship, she had to see what he really felt inside. He lifted her easily into his arms, holding her close, holding her with exquisite tenderness, cradling her with leashed strength, wanting her to be sheltered for all time within his heart.
His mouth moved over her satin skin collecting little beads of water. “Love me back, Shea, love me like this. You are the air I breathe. Do not be afraid of this.” His hands shaped her slender form to the hardness of his, caressed every line of her body, found every secret shadow and hollow.
As he lifted her closer, water poured from her body onto his, hot and steamy. Her mouth was at his throat—small, loving kisses designed to drive him wild. He was gentle and tender this time, taking his time, enjoying his ability to touch her, to take her whenever they wanted, however they wanted. Water splashed up all around them; bubbles frothed and burst. Steam enveloped them, wrapping their bodies like a blanket.
Jacques stroked back her bright hair, kissed her eyelids, her high cheekbones, the corners of her mouth. Every inch of her was his, and he worshipped it tenderly. When at last his body took possession of hers, her eyes held the same message as his, her soul branded forever with his name, his touch.
Chapter Seventeen
Jacques stirred languidly. He didn’t want to move, but hunger was growing, and he needed nourishment desperately. He had to sustain Shea, Byron, and his own healing body. He would have to feed often to keep up with the demand. He carefully unwound his body from Shea’s. She moaned softly, and her long eyelashes lifted.
“You can’t possibly want more.” He had made love to her often and thoroughly throughout the last few hours. She wasn’t altogether certain she could move.
He ran a teasing finger down her flat stomach. “I always want more. Insatiableis the word.” He sighed and reluctantly stood and stretched. “I want you to stay here while I go feed. You will be safe.”
One eyebrow lifted. “How do you know that? Don’t all Carpathians know of this place? I should go with you.” She wanted to keep him safe from any harm. If Rand was the vampire, he hated Jacques above all others.
Jacques made certain no expression showed on his face. Shea had the illusion she was still taking care of him. Her protective streak sent unexpected warmth flowing through him. He loved that in her. He wasn’t stupid enough to give away his knowledge that she wouldn’t harm a fly. “If you made the effort to learn how to scan, you would know if any Carpathians were in the vicinity. Because we are here, no others would invade our privacy,” he said gruffly.
“The vampire can cloak himself, or have you forgotten?” she asked suspiciously. “I think it is more likely that you are going out hunting.”
Jacques ruffled her hair gently. “I am going to feed, little red hair. It is not my job to hunt the vampire. Gregori has been chosen for that. I do not envy him the job. As for the vampire bothering you, I can find no trace of him when I scan, and you display no uneasiness. Stay here and wait for me. I already know where I can find food. It will take only minutes.”
Shea glared up at him. “You had better not be deceiving me.”
“It is impossible for lifemates to lie to one another.” He stretched again and bent to kiss her upturned face. “Do not wander off, Shea. And stay in touch with me. I do not want any nasty surprises when I return. In any case, if you stay in touch with me, you will see that I am telling the truth. I go only to feed.”
She stretched out beside the hot springs and dangled her fingers idly in the water. Her body was pleasantly sore. The truth was, she didn’t want to move. “All right, wild man, but it isn’t me who’s constantly finding trouble. And if you run into Rand, just leave.” She turned over, completely oblivious of offering up her body to him. “He may be my biological father, and like any child I may have had my fairy-tale fantasies about the perfect daddy, but I don’t want you to take any chances. I’ve been thinking a lot about this.”
“About what?” he encouraged, wanting her to sort it out for herself.
“The reason I can feel the vampire even though he can cloak himself. The reason I felt the humans when Raven couldn’t.”
“We should have been able to detect them,” Jacques said, inviting her to tell him more. He hunkered down beside her. Shea had an exceptional brain, and, given sufficient time, he knew she would be able to put her emotions aside and contribute much to the solution to their problems.
“Blood. Isn’t that how everything works? All the bonds and mental telepathy? Don’t you track each other through blood exchanges? Isn’t that why the men rarely exchange blood? Rand hasn’t exchanged with any of you, has he?”
Jacques shook his head. “No, he was very careful never to do such a thing. But then, he had a lifemate. He did not need to share; and there was no chance of his turning.”
“But Noelle wasn’t really his lifemate, was she? He always knew it, even if no one else did. Later, perhaps, you all realized he couldn’t be her true lifemate, but he had already established a habit of never exchanging blood. He knew there was always the chance he might turn, so he protected himself.” Shea felt she was redeeming her mother. “Maggie was his lifemate. Mikhail told us Rand had risen only a couple of years ago and kept to himself. That was after the vampire murders had taken place.”
“If that is so, then Rand could not possibly be the guilty one.”
“If it is so. Suppose he had risen before that time and found my mother dead. You said a widowed lifemate normally chooses death. What happens if they don’t? What happens if they keep existing?”
There was silence as Jacques digested what she was saying. “Mikhail thought Rand would be all right because Noelle was not his true lifemate. But if Maggie had been, and she was already dead when he rose, then he would turn. Yet he had his son. He may have stayed to protect him.” He inhaled sharply. “But to be able to weave a cloaking spell... There are only a few with that kind of power.”