“She can’t possibly believe I’m a vampire, Mikhail. Why would I be in danger? I might even be of some help to you.” A mischievous smile curved her soft mouth. “I can hear so much better these days.” She toasted him with the glass and drank the mixture.
“There is no argument when your safety is involved. I will not have you in the middle of this battle.” His black gaze was clearly troubled.
“We agreed to compromise. Your world and mine. I have to be my own person, Mikhail. I have to make my own decisions. I know you would never let me go through the torment of tracking a killer by myself. I want to help you, be there for you. That’s what a partnership is.”
“Being apart from you even under normal circumstances would torment me. How can I tolerate such a thing as you being in the same house with those who murdered my sister?”
She attempted to tease him, wanting the darkness to recede from his eyes. “Do one of your sleeping numbers on yourself, or teach me how to do it. I’ll be more than happy to put you out.”
His hand slipped around her throat experimentally. “I bet you would. How does your head feel, little one? Better?”
“Much, thank you. So, tell me what you know so far.” Raven watched him pace across the hardwood floor, all restless energy. “I have done this Mikhail. I’m not an amateur, and I’m not stupid. Mrs. Summers may look like a sweet old lady, but she’s very sick. If she’s targeting people as vampires and has a fanatical following, a lot more people could be hurt. And these people must believe Mrs. Summers. They killed the woman...”
“Noelle,” he supplied softly. “Her name was Noelle.”
Her eyes touched his face, her mind flooding his with warmth and comfort. “Noelle,” she echoed gently, “was killed in a textbook style for vampires. Stake, beheading, garlic. This is a sick group. We at least have a place to start. I think it would be safe to assume Mr. Summers is involved. So that’s two of them.”
“That silly girl Shelly is a blind. They are using her to help them by asking her ridiculous questions. She is not directly involved; they do not trust her to keep her mouth shut. Her brother planted the idea of studying folklore in her head and this tour is supposedly a research trip for her. She is easily led by him.” He raked a hand through his thick hair. He needed to feed soon. There was a dark, cold anger in him. It crawled through his body, dangerous and deadly. Jacob was unscrupulous, even with his sister, it seemed. And he had looked upon Raven with lust.
Raven looked up and found unblinking eyes on her. They were dark, fathomless, the eyes of a hunter. A prickle of unease ran down her spine. She felt her hand tremble as she smoothed out her skirt. “What is it?” Sometimes Mikhail looked like a stranger, not the warm man she knew with laughter and tenderness in his heated gaze, but someone calculating and cold, someone more lethal and cunning than any she could imagine. Automatically her mind reached out to his.
Do not!He slammed a block down hard.
Raven’s lashes fluttered against a sudden spurt of tears. Rejection was painful, and coming from Mikhail it hurt like hell. “Why, Mikhail? Why are you shutting me out? You need me. I know you do. You’re so willing to help everybody, be everything for everybody. I’m supposed to be your partner, be all things, everything to you. Let me help you.” She approached him slowly, cautiously.
“You do not know what could happen, Raven.” He stepped backwards away from temptation, away from her pain.
She smiled. “You always help me, Mikhail. You look after me. I’m asking you to trust me enough to let me be what you need.” He was allowing his mind block to fragment, bit by bit. She sensed grief mixed with rage at Noelle’s senseless murder and fear for Raven’s safety. Love, strong and growing, a hunger, sexual and physical. Raw need. Someone definitely needed to love and comfort this man.
“I need you to do as I ask you,” he said in desperation, fighting the beast lifting its head hungrily.
Her laughter was soft, enticing. “No, you don’t. Too many people think your word is law. You need someone to defy you a little bit. I know you won’t hurt me, Mikhail. I can feel your fear of yourself. You think there’s something in you I can’t love, some kind of monster you’re afraid for me to see. I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You are so reckless, Raven, so heedless of danger.” He gripped the back of a chair so hard the wood threatened to disintegrate into dust. As it was, it would hold the imprint of his fingers for all time.
“Danger, Mikhail?” She tipped her head to one side, her hair falling in a slide over one shoulder. Her hands went to the top button of her blouse. “I would never be in danger from you, even if you were furious with me. The only danger right now is to my clothes.” She took a step back, laughing again, letting the sound warm him, ignite the fuse deep inside him.
Heat coiled, spread; need slammed into him, hard and urgent. Hunger tore at him, a blind red haze. “You, little one, are playing with fire, and I am totally out of control.” He made one last attempt to save her. Why couldn’t she see how selfish he really was? How he had taken over her life and would never release her? He was the monster she couldn’t see. Perhaps with the rest of the world cold logic and justice ruled him, but not with her. With Raven he was taken over by emotions with which he was so unfamiliar that he could not control them. He did things he felt were unconscionable. He let her see the violence in his mind, tearing her clothes, taking her body without thought or control.
She answered him in her mind, warmth, love, her body eager for his, receptive, accepting of his violent side. She had total trust and faith in his feelings for her, in his commitment to her.
He swore softly, ripping the clothes from his fettered body, leaping upon her like an attacking jungle cat. “Mikhail, I love this dress,” she whispered against his throat, laughter still spilling into his mind. Laughter. Joy. No fear.
“Get out of the damned thing,” he said hoarsely, not realizing he was confirming her belief in him.
She took her time, teasing him by fumbling at buttons, making him find the hook in her skirt. “You do not know what you are doing,” he objected raggedly, but his hands were gentle on her body, carefully stripping away her clothes until she was all bare satin skin and long silky hair.
Mikhail curled strong fingers around the nape of her neck. She felt so small and fragile, her skin warm. She had a woman’s haunting scent, like wild honey, a breath of fresh air. He backed her into the bookcase, his hands shaping her body, stroking the soft swell of her breast, absorbing the feel of her into his skin, his tissues, his very insides. He lowered his head, found the dark tip of her nipple with his tongue. The demon in him receded at the feel of her soft skin, her acceptance of his nature. He didn’t deserve her.
Raven’s body went weak at the first touch of his mouth, so hot and demanding, fastened on her breast. The shelf behind her held her up, pushing against the bare skin of her bottom. Excitement surged through her, anticipation. His eyes drifted over her with so much hunger, so much possession. With so much tenderness. That melted her heart, made her want to cry that he could have so much feeling for her. Everywhere his gaze traveled, her skin burned for him, her body ached for his touch.
She reached up to loosen his hair, to fill her hands with it, to revel in her ability to smooth her fingertips over his heavy muscles. She could feel him tremble under her caressing hands, feel the wildness in him striving to break free. It touched something wild in her. She wanted to feel him in her arms, trembling for her, his hard muscles against her soft skin, his body surging into hers. She sent him the erotic pictures dancing in her head as she tasted his skin with her soft mouth.