“Only you, Francesca,” he whispered fiercely. “Look into my mind and see the truth; it is there for the taking. I want you and only you. For yourself, not just your beautiful body. For me there will never be another. No other could satisfy this desperate craving. A craving as old as time itself. Beautiful and magical.” His hand wandered over her skin, pushed low into the waistband of her jeans. “I look at you and remember the endless centuries, all those wars and battles, my people turning undead and the countless times I was forced to destroy them. You are the reason I did it, the reason I endured it. Just you. Not some noble purpose, but somewhere on this planet I knew you might be, a child just beginning and it was necessary to keep you safe.”
His palm moved along the curve of her hip as he pushed her jeans aside, traveled down her soft skin following the slender line of her legs. “I thought of you every time I made a kill, when my life was dark and bleak, without hope. I thought of you in a village or town somewhere, high in the mountains or down in a valley. I whispered to you that I was coming, that no harm would find you as long as I existed. And I continued to exist, century after century.” Gabriel closed his eyes as his hands moved over her body, savoring the feel of her, the perfection of her, committing every curve to memory. To carry with him always. For all time. For all eternity. “For you, Francesca, I continued to exist for you.” To carry with him wherever he went after his death.
Francesca felt tears burning behind her eyes, shocked that his words could move her so deeply. The feel of his mouth drifting over her breast, the heat of his breath as he whispered beautiful things against her skin were as compelling as any black-magic spell he could have used. “You make me ashamed that I gave up all hope,” she whispered, tears in her throat, as she cradled his head to her.
He lifted her easily with his enormous strength. “I do not want you ever to feel such a thing,” he chastised softly. “You are the strength in my mind, the iron in my will, you are so brave and beautiful, inside and out, and I do not deserve one such as you. So many centuries of living alone, cut off from your people— for someone else it would have been a living hell, yet you managed to do good with your life.”
Francesca clasped her hands around his neck, threw back her head as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and settled over the hard length of him. Her hair fell in a dark curtain of silk, enveloping them in a private world. She wanted this, the union of their bodies, so perfect in the night air. The night where they belonged, where their people lived and thrived. She held him to her, rode him, at first slowly, savoring the hot slick feel of him filling her with his strength, sending pleasure coursing through her slender body. She clutched him, trembling with ecstasy.
She bent her head slowly, seductively toward his throat. He had fed well this night, and she was shaking with her longing to have every part of him, to consume him in her own fiery need, in the fires of her dark desire. He whispered her name, his arms like iron bands, holding her close. He closed his eyes as her breasts moved over his chest, as her tight sheath enveloped him, clutching with a hot velvet friction. Unbelievable pleasure. Her teeth sank deep into the side of his neck and white-hot lightning lanced through him, through both of them, welding them together.
He began to move then, taking the lead, picking up the pace, surging deeper and deeper, striving to find the very core of her. Her hair was sliding over his skin, sensitizing him even more. She seemed to be his world, his breath, his blood, his body, his every pleasure. The rush built like a fireball, a firestorm out of control. He felt her gasp, close the pinpricks with her tongue, a sensuous caress, her body clutching at his, milking him until he wanted to shout his joy to the heavens. To feel this. To experience this. The love that welled up in him overflowed. His body was exploding into the universe, following hers, stars shooting in all directions and colors whirling like a kaleidoscope.
He held her to him, their hearts beating as one, their bodies united. They belonged together. He stood there in the darkness holding her close. “I love you, Francesca. I really do.”
She went very still, her head buried against the warmth of his neck. “Gabriel.”
“I do, Francesca, very much, more than I ever thought it possible to love anyone. I did not know how strong such an emotion could be. I am not asking anything of you, sweetheart, do not think that. I only want you to know what I feel. I want to say the words to you aloud. And just so you know, I love your body, too.”
She laughed softly. “I was the one who seduced you.” She wanted to make that very clear. “Time and again.”
“It was not for lack of wanting, lady, and you well know that. I was being a gentleman.” Very gently he allowed her feet to touch the ground. “And I told you first that I loved you. Just remember that when you are being smug.”
Francesca stretched sensuously, turning her face up to the stars. “Take me home, Gabriel. Set safeguards for Skyler and take me home. I want to spend the rest of this rising making love to you.” She grinned at him mischievously. “And you remember when you’re being smug, I was the one to make the suggestion first.”
“It is only fair that you spend time with your lifemate. Soon our home will be filled with others. I think it is time you stayed with me and admitted you made a terrible mistake looking at that poor excuse for a human man.”
“He is not as bad as he is looking at the moment.” There was genuine puzzlement in Francesca’s voice. Without giving any more thought to Brice, Francesca straightened her clothes, her body very close to Gabriel’s.
“It is all right with me that you showed poor judgment in this one small area before my arrival,” he said with a straight face. “After all, you showed your common sense in all other things.”
Francesca began laughing so hard she had to fling her arms around Gabriel’s neck to keep on her feet. “I can’t believe you’re such a schmuck after two thousand years. I would think you’d have a clue how to talk to a woman.”
He bent his dark head to hers. “Sweetheart, do you want to hear me talk to you?” His voice was softer than the night sky. At once her dark eyes found his. He was looking at her with hunger. Nothing else described it.
Hunger.
“Because I very much want to talk to you.” His hand cupped her breast, his thumb moving gently, insistently over the hard peak of her nipple. “Can you hear what it is I am saying to you?”
Francesca shivered and wrapped her arms around him. “Let’s go home, Gabriel. Skyler needs a few more days in the hospital and I want every minute we have alone with you. Every minute.” Her mouth found his, every bit as hungry as his eyes.
Chapter Eleven
Something terrible was going on in the city. Francesca could hardly bear to look at the news. There were strings of murders, mutilations, terrible things that seemed to be breaking out all over the city. Was it Lucian? Was he responsible for the crimes sweeping her beloved Paris? If she and Gabriel left, would he follow them? It was more than the brutal murders, it was the
feel
of the city, as if something evil resided there. Something dark and malevolent, crouching, awaiting its moment to rise. Somehow it seemed to permeate the city until the residents were affected. Fights broke out, wrecks occurred on the streets, and conflict erupted everywhere.
It was important to her to spend as much time as possible with Gabriel. She wanted to be with him each rising, when the night was so beautiful it took her breath away. She wanted the early morning hours. She wanted to make love to him, watch his