“I am a mere twenty-three,” she pointed out desperately. “You are centuries old. I have not lived at all.”
He shrugged with casual strength, muscles rippling, his silver eyes on her beautiful, anxious face. “Then you will enjoy the benefits of my experience.”
“Gregori, please try to understand. You don’t love me. You don’t know me. I am not like other Carpathian women. I don’t want to be a brood mare for my race. I can’t be your prisoner, no matter how petted and indulged I am.”
He laughed softly and waved a hand dismissively in the space between them. “You areyoung, child, if you believe what you are saying.” There was a gentleness in his voice that turned her heart over in spite of all her fears. “Is your mother a prisoner?”
“My parents are different. My father loves my mother.
Even so, he would sometimes walk on her rights if he could. A gilded cage is still a cage, Gregori.”
There was that amusement again, warming the cold steel of his eyes. Savannah felt her temper rise. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to slap his face. His grin widened, a subtle challenge. He indicated the open door.
She forced a laugh. “We can stand out here until dawn, Gregori. I’m willing—are you’?” He leaned one hip lazily against the wall. “You think to dare me’?”
“You can’t force me against my will without violating our laws.”
“In all the centuries I have existed, do you believe I have never broken our laws’?” His soft laughter was without humor. “The things I have done render abducting you as petty as the human crime of jaywalking.”
“Yet you brought Roberto to justice, even though San Francisco is Aidan Savage’s territory to hunt,” she pointed out, naming another powerful Carpathian who tracked down and destroyed those among them turned vampire. “Did you do that because of me’?”
“You are my lifemate, the only thing that stands between me and the destruction of mortals and immortals alike.” He stated it calmly, as an absolute truth. “No one will touch you or try to come between us and live. He struck you, Savannah.”
“My father would—”
He was shaking his head. “Do not try to bring your father into this, chérie,even if Mikhail is the Prince of our people. This is between you and me. You do not want a war. Roberto struck you; that was reason enough for him to die.”
She touched his mind again. No anger. Just resolve. He meant what he said. He wasn’t bluffing or trying to frighten her. He wanted truth between them. Savannah pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. She had always known this moment would come. “I’m sorry, Gregori,” she whispered hopelessly. “I can’t be what you want. I will choose to face the dawn.”
His fingers brushed her face with incredible gentleness. “You have no idea what I want from you.” His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking the satin skin over the pulse beating so frantically in her throat. “You know I cannot allow you such a choice, ma petite.We can talk through your fears. Come inside with me.” His mind was invading hers, a warm, sweet seduction. His eyes, so pale and cold, heated to a flowing mercury that seemed to burn into her mind, threatening her very will.
Savannah’s fingers dug into the railing as she felt herself drowning in hot liquid. “Stop it, Gregori!” she cried sharply, determined to break his mental hold. It was sweet torment, rushing heat, seduction so dangerous that she flung herself toward the entrance of the house to flee his dark power over her.
Gregori’s arm stopped her headlong flight. His mouth moved against her ear. His body, aggressively male, hard, and ferociously aroused, brushed hers. Say it, Savannah. Say the words.Even the whisper in her mind was black velvet. His mouth, perfect and sensuous, so hot and moist, wandered down to her throat. The reality of his flesh was even more erotic than his mental seduction. His teeth grazed her skin lightly. His body clenched, and she could feel the monster in him awaken, hungry, burning with need—no gentle, thinking lover but a fully aroused Carpathian male.
The words he commanded her to say nearly strangled in her throat and came out so low, it was impossible to tell whether they were spoken aloud or were merely an echo in her mind. “I come to you of my own free will.”
He released her instantly, allowing her to stumble across the threshold by herself. Behind her, his large frame filled the doorway. He stood towering over her, silver eyes radiating heat, power, intense satisfaction. Gregori closed the door with his foot and reached for her.
Savannah cried out and tried to evade his touch, but he caught her up with casual strength, cradling her struggling body against his chest. His chin brushed her silky hair. “Be still, enfante,or you will end up bruising yourself. There is no way to fight me, and I cannot permit you to harm yourself.”
“I hate you.”
“You do not hate me, Savannah. You fear me, but most of all, you fear what you are,” he replied calmly. He was moving through the house with long strides, carrying her to the basement, then lower still to the chamber hidden so carefully in deep earth.
Her body burned for his, and, so close to his heat, there was no relief. Hunger rose sharply, and something wild in her lifted its head.
Chapter Two
The moment Gregori lowered her to her feet, Savannah sprang away from him. The single leap put the distance of the room between them. Fear was a growing, living thing, mixing with her wild nature.
Gregori could feel her heart beat, and his own tuned itself to match the pounding rhythm of hers. Her blood called to him. He drew the scent into his lungs, into his veins, so his own blood heated and surged with a fierce, burning need. He drew breath for both of them, struggling to control the raging demon in him, struggling for the calm he needed to keep from hurting her, to keep her from hurting herself.
She looked what she was, young, wild, beautiful, her eyes deep violet with fiery stars, enormous with fear. She crouched in the farthest corner from him, her every thought so chaotic that it took him a few moments to sort the whirling emotions. Grief and guilt for her lost friend. Disgust and humiliation that her body could betray her, that she wasn’t strong enough to stand up to him. Fear that he could achieve his goal, make her his mate, control her life. Fear that he would hurt her with his strength, with his own burning hunger. The need to escape was paramount; she meant to fight to the death.
Gregori faced her without expression, without moving a muscle. He searched for a way to defuse the situation. He would never allow Savannah to die. He had risked everything for her. Risked his own sanity, his very soul. He would not lose everything now through clumsiness. “I am truly sorry for the loss of your friend, Savannah,” Gregori said quietly, gently, his voice low, a whisper of hypnotic music.
Her eyelashes fluttered. She blinked. His words were clearly unexpected.
“I should have been there much more quickly to save him,” he admitted softly. “I will not let you down again.”
She moistened her lips and dragged in air. He looked invincible, merciless. He looked like a sorcerer, exuding dark temptation from every pore. His sheer sexuality was overpowering. His gentle voice and perfect calm were at odds with the touch of sensual cruelty about his mouth, the intense burning in his pale eyes, and the implacable mask he always wore.
“I am not such a monster that I would attack you while your grief and fear are so sharp. Relax, enfante.Your lifemate may be a demon to all others, but you are safe. I want only to comfort you.” He felt her tentative mind-touch, seeking the truth of his words. He rarely allowed anyone the intimacy of a mental bond. With her, the melding added to his deep physical ache, the swirling of unfamiliar emotions. But it also gave him pleasure. Intense pleasure.