“Just promise me you’ll think about this, Darius. It’s really the only sensible solution. And if it doesn’t work out between us, by the time we know, I should be able to take care of myself.” She sank down onto the edge of the tub, too weary to stand any longer.
Darius tamped down his hunger, his raging desire, and the emotions that were clouding his good judgment. He caught up the robe he had made a day or two earlier for her. It was hanging on the door, thick and warm. He enfolded her in its softness. “We will eat, honey, and then we will sleep. All of this can be sorted out on the next rising.”
“Isn’t that the first day of Desari’s performance? Whoever sent those men after her will try again. She’ll be so vulnerable, Darius. We have to resolve this before she goes on stage.”
He could hear her weariness. It clung to her like a second skin. The Carpathian male could do no other than protect his lifemate, see to every aspect of her care, so he simply took possession of her arm and, without further conversation, led her into the kitchen and sat her at the table.
Desari had prepared a bowl of steaming vegetable broth. The aroma filled the bus, but Tempest merely pressed a hand to her stomach and tried not to gag.
See, Darius? I can’t eat anyway. I can’t have one foot in my world and one foot in yours. I’m willing to risk the conversion to have a chance at a future with you.
He ignored her soft, persuasive voice and thrust his mind deliberately into hers. Not gently, but firmly taking control, giving her no time to fight him.
You will eat this broth, and it will stay down and nourish you.
It was a command. He forced her obedience, even when her stomach rebelled, attempting to rid itself of the food.
Tempest blinked up at him, finding her soup bowl empty. She shoved her damp hair away from her face, her long lashes drooping tiredly. “I just want to sleep, Darius. Let’s go to sleep.”
He wrapped her in his good arm, lifted her easily, and carried her out of the trailer and into the night. They were back to their warrior and captive roles, but Tempest didn’t care. She closed her eyes and settled closer against his chest.
The tunnel he chose leading into the earth was warm with geothermal activity. At once it robbed her of breath, inducing a feeling of suffocation in her. She tried to hide it from Darius, not wanting him to know she was uncomfortable. She burrowed closer to him, giving herself up to his protection. She knew he would not go into the soil because she could not go. He would make them a sleeping area in the safety of the earth where she could sleep the sleep of humans and he could try his best to follow suit. But he needed the rejuvenating soil, especially now that he was wounded. He needed to shut down his heart and lungs and sleep the Carpathian way. Tempest smiled against his heavy muscles, suddenly confident of her ability to persuade him to her way of thinking. She just needed to rest first before she renewed her attack. Darius could not resist her forever. She had been in his mind, felt his vulnerability. He would give in if she persisted. He wanted her conversion with every cell in his body.
She knew Darius felt he had to protect her, that she was fragile and delicate. But Tempest knew she wasn’t. Perhaps physically she was weak in comparison to his race, but she had a tremendous strength of will. It was every bit a match for his. She would find a way to keep him safe, protect him in the same fierce way, with the same fierce love as Darius did her.
Chapter Sixteen
The Konocti Harbor Inn, famous for its food and concerts, was built on the edge of a large lake nestled in the mountains, cool and shaded by majestic pine trees. The resort drew large crowds to its outdoor concerts, its large amphitheater, and the more cozy indoor venue where guests could dine and watch their favorite performers. The Summerfest was legendary, bringing visitors from all over the country to the festivities. It was one of Desari’s favorite places to perform, and she scheduled concerts there each time she was in California. To Darius and Julian, the security was a logistical nightmare.
The head of security appeared to be in his forties and had the air of a man who knew his job and could handle any situation that should arise. He listened attentively to the group’s special problems. Already aware of the attempt on Desari’s life a few months earlier, he had made additional preparations himself. Still, he was open to their ideas and more than cooperative. Darius found himself liking the man, going so far as to give him the grudging respect he generally reserved for his own kind. Darius expected cooperation and got it either through consent or compulsion, but it was easier when he had the full cooperation of the security team.
Desari was to perform indoors. All three men agreed on that. It was safer and the environment much easier to control. The head of security showed them around, going over the recent renovations with them, showing them floor plans and every possible entrance and exit. He was easy to work with and had a fairly competent staff for the small resort. Still, for the kind of problems they expected, all of them knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Locals, mostly young, were employed as event staff, and they were far too inexperienced to handle the kind of threat Desari’s enemies posed. Darius and Julian knew they would have to check the entrances themselves, testing each individual’s thoughts as he or she moved through the doors. Dayan and Barack would be able to help at least up until the actual performance. With the ability to mask their appearance at will, they could blend in with the security staff and not look like band members.
While the men were occupied with pre-show security arrangements, Tempest enjoyed the shower in the suite of rooms provided by the resort. Darius had come up with a wardrobe of clothes for her, and she had never had such clothes in her life. The jeans didn’t have holes in them, the dresses clung and swirled, and everything fit perfectly. For a moment she almost didn’t wear them, feeling like a kept woman, but then she couldn’t resist. She was part of the troupe, like it or not. Desari and Syndil were both elegant, striking women. She couldn’t very well run around in her oily bib overalls.
She stepped out into the night air, remembering at the last moment to pin the little tag in place identifying her as a member of the band’s crew. She wandered around outdoors, inhaling the scent of pine trees and flowers. The lake was a stone’s throw away, boats docked in rows, waves lapping at the shore. The lake called to her, the breeze blowing gently in her face.
Tempest felt free walking by herself, even though Darius would have a fit. He was becoming more and more protective of her, so much so that she was thinking of breaking out of prison for a few hours, maybe during the concert. Darius would be busy and unaware of what she was up to.
Do
not count on it, my love. You are not to wander around unescorted. Go back to the room while I am workng. Later you may come and listen to the concert.
His very voice held magic. A velvet caress that sent heat pooling low within her. How could he do that from such a distance? How could he bmsh the nape of her neck with his perfect mouth and span her throat with his palm, make her pulse race and her blood turn to molten lava?
How kind of you to give your permission,
she
retorted. Concentrate on your work, Darius. I’m just looking at the lake. What possible trouble could I get into?
His laughter, low with mocking male amusement, brushed in her mind like butterfly wings.
I would not be surprised if you managed to sink the entire pier. If someone told me you were singlehandedly trying to rescue seven drowning victims, I would not raise an eyebrow. There will be no heroics, no hang-gliding, no speedboat racing, and no flirting. I absolutely forbid your helping the security team deal with drunks, brawls, or any other situation. Go back to the room. I’m not that bad,