Night's Mistress (Children of the Night) (7 page)

BOOK: Night's Mistress (Children of the Night)
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Chapter Ten
 
Four weeks had passed since Mara’s first visit to the doctor. Her nausea had passed, and now she was hungry all the time, but instead of craving blood, she was craving the oddest things, like potato chips and pizza. And chocolate—the darker, the better. She couldn’t seem to get enough of it, had never tasted anything so wonderful. She loved the way it melted on her tongue, the almost sinful pleasure it gave her.
She looked up when Logan entered the living room. “The word on the street is that someone is looking for you,” he said, sitting beside her. “I think you’d better stay here, with me, from now on.”
“Do you know who’s looking for me?” She popped another dark chocolate truffle into her mouth.
“I couldn’t begin to guess. What about you? Any ideas?”
“No, it could be anybody.” During the War, she had made enemies among the werewolves as well as the Undead. None of them would spare her just because she was pregnant. Of course, she had made a lot of other enemies in centuries past. Who knew how many of them were still carrying a grudge?
“Ramsden called me last night,” Logan said. “He wanted your phone number. Said he needed to reschedule your appointment.”
“I’m not going back there. I’m not sure I trust him.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mara,” he said patiently, “you need to see a doctor. All things considered, we agreed a vampire doctor would be the best.”
“I think I’ll go to a mortal physician from now on,” she said, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to put herself through another pelvic examination. And then she frowned. If a routine exam was so embarrassing and uncomfortable, how would she ever endure childbirth?
“What do you think about staying here, with me?” Logan asked. A muscle throbbed in his jaw when she didn’t say anything. “Or don’t you trust me, either?” he asked, his voice tight.
“If I stay here with you, it’s like admitting that I’m afraid.”
“You are afraid! I can smell it on you.”
“Oh, I hate this!” She didn’t understand how it had happened, and happened so quickly. It just wasn’t fair. She ate another truffle. These days, nothing was quite as comforting as rich, dark chocolate.
Logan frowned at her as she licked a bit of chocolate from her lower lip. “You look like you’re having great sex,” he muttered.
Mara grinned. “I heard a woman on a talk show remark that good chocolate was better than sex.”
Logan quirked a brow at her. “Is it?”
Mara licked the last bit of candy from her fingers. “Try it for yourself and see.” She unwrapped another truffle and offered it to him.
Logan eyed it the way Adam must have looked at the apple; then, remembering what had happened the last time he partook of human food, he shook his head. “No, thanks. Once was enough.”
Unable to help herself, Mara burst out laughing.
“Think it’s funny, do you?” he asked with a growl.
Impulsively taking him by the hand, she led him into the bedroom. She might be losing her preternatural abilities, but she had powers of her own that had nothing to do with the supernatural—feminine wiles as old as Eve’s. She pushed Logan toward the bed until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he sat down, and then she began to move. She had once danced for Pharaoh; now she danced for Logan, her body dipping and swaying slowly and provocatively to music only she could hear.
He whistled softly as she began to undress, each move sensually tantalizing as she removed one piece of clothing after another, each inch of bared flesh more provocative than the last, until she stood naked before him, a goddess clothed in mortality.
“Beautiful,” Logan murmured. He held out his arms in invitation, eager to touch her, to run his hands over her alabaster skin, to nuzzle her breasts, to bury himself in her warmth.
Instead of moving into his embrace, she crossed her arms. “Now you.”
“What?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t expect
me
to do a striptease, do you?”
“Why not?” She closed the distance between them and ran her fingertips down his cheek. “I did.”
“Mara . . .”
She retreated when he reached for her. “Don’t tell me you’re shy?”
“Maybe.” His voice was a low growl of frustration.
“I don’t believe you.”
“If you want me naked, you’ll have to undress me.”
She canted her head to the side, a seductive smile teasing her lips. “Think I won’t?”
“I’m hoping you will,” he said, his dark eyes filled with mischief.
“Are you going to help me?”
“Nope.” He flopped back on the bed, his arms outstretched. “How much do you want me?”
She climbed on the bed and straddled his hips. “How much do
you
want
me
?” It was a foolish question. His desire was readily apparent.
He laughed softly. “Are we making a contest out of this? ’Cause you’re not really dressed for a fight.”
“And you’re over-dressed.” Taking hold of the hem of his sweater, she eased it up, revealing a hard, flat belly. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt and as she lifted his sweater higher, she rained kisses on each inch of newly exposed skin.
After tossing his sweater aside, her hands made quick work of his belt buckle. She tossed his belt on the floor, along with his shoes and socks, and after gaining her feet, she stood at the end of the bed and slowly tugged his trousers off and flung them aside. The black briefs he wore did little to hide his erection.
“You’re quick,” he said with a grin.
“And you’re horny,” she remarked as she relieved him of his briefs. “Now we’re even.”
“You think so?” In a blur of movement, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. Falling back on the bed once more, he rolled over, carrying her with him, so that she lay beneath him. “What are you gonna do now?”
“Anything I want,” she murmured, and locking her hands behind his neck, she drew his head down and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that left both of them breathless.
She ran her hands over his face, his shoulders, his chest, his taut buttocks, and each caress reminded her of days gone by, of endless nights of lovemaking along the banks of the Nile. She hadn’t intended for things to go this far. She was in love with Kyle. But what had started out as a little harmless flirting with an old flame had quickly gotten out of hand. She knew she should tell Logan to go, but, somehow, she couldn’t summon the words. It felt good to be in his arms, like returning home after a long vacation.
He murmured to her in his native tongue, making her wonder if he, too, was recalling those halcyon days gone by. She moaned softly as his hands worked their familiar magic, cried his name as the tension built deep within her, built until she thought she would explode with need, until, thrusting deep, he brought her to fulfillment.
Sated, she closed her eyes, but he wasn’t done with her yet. Holding back his own release, he aroused her again, more slowly this time. Her nails raked his back as she writhed beneath him, mindless with wanting. Her skin was slick with perspiration, her body arching upward as he continued to move deep within her, his own climax coming quickly on the heels of her own. Breathless, she lay spent beneath him, trembling with little aftershocks of pleasure as he held her close.
“So,” he said, his voice a low rumble in her ear, “do you still think good chocolate is better than great sex?”
 
 
Later, after they had showered and dressed, Logan again brought up the subject of her moving in with him.
“This is a big place,” he said. “You can have your pick of the bedrooms. Hell, you’ll have the whole house to yourself during the day.”
He was very persuasive. Staying here was tempting, so very tempting. Living with Logan wouldn’t be a hardship. He had a house that was even bigger than her own, with a lovely view, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a Jacuzzi. Best of all, she enjoyed his company. Still, if she agreed to move in with him, she wasn’t just admitting she was afraid, she was surrendering a portion of her free will. The thought rankled.
“If you won’t come here,” Logan remarked, playing his ace in the hole, “then I’m moving in with you.”
“You can’t come into my house unless you’re invited.”
He lifted one brow. “Can’t I?”
She stared at him uncertainly. Thresholds had a mystical power of their own. They repelled vampires and other supernatural creatures. Had Logan found a way to nullify that power?
“The bond between us may be broken, Mara, but you’re forgetting one thing. I’m still a vampire.”
The threat was clear. If she refused to move in with him, or refused to allow him to move in with her, he could forcibly bend her will to his. Without her supernatural powers, there was nothing she could do to stop him. She probably wouldn’t even be aware of it. Not only that, but he had tasted her blood, which meant that no matter where she went, he would always be able to find her, a power she had once used to her own advantage without wondering or caring what mortals thought about her invading their privacy.
“You’re not playing fair,” she said petulantly.
Logan shrugged. “You know what they say about love and war.”
“Are we at war?”
He trailed one finger down her cheek. “No, darlin’, but one of us is in love.”
She had no answer for that. She cared for Logan deeply, but she wasn’t in love with him. And then, in the back of her mind, came that troubling question again: Was she?
Knowing Logan wouldn’t relent, Mara agreed to move into his house, at least until the baby was born.
Logan did his best not to look smug, but he failed miserably. It made her want to smack him.
 
 
The following evening, Logan arrived at her house with a small moving van. “I would have hired someone to help out, but the fewer people who see you, the better.”
With Logan’s supernatural strength, there really wasn’t any need for help. In addition to her suitcases, he easily managed the few large items she wanted to take with her.
Two hours later, Mara had settled into the upstairs master bedroom in Logan’s house. It was a spacious room, but it was definitely masculine, from the heavy dark furniture to the gray walls and carpeting. She blew out a sigh as she opened one of her suitcases. The room was nice but not to her liking.
Logan stood in the doorway, watching her unpack. “So, what color are you going to paint it?”
Mara looked up. “What?”
“The room. What color are you going to paint it?”
“Are you serious? You’ll just have to paint it again when I leave.”
He shrugged. “The colors don’t suit you.” She was never meant for insipid shades of gray. “I’ll run down to the paint store and get some samples while you unpack.”
Before she could assure him that it wasn’t necessary, he was gone.
Fighting the urge to cry, Mara sat on the edge of the bed. She hated being so weepy all the time, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Was it because she was becoming more human every day? Or just because she was pregnant? Pregnant! No matter how often she said it, she couldn’t believe it. All these tears made her feel weak and foolish.
With a shake of her head, she resumed unpacking. Logan had thoughtfully emptied the large walk-in closet and the six drawers in the dresser. He really was a sweet man, she thought, and wondered again why she had left him. Boredom, perhaps, or maybe just her lifelong fear of letting anyone, mortal or vampire, get too close, see too much.
She was hanging the last of her clothes in the closet when Logan reappeared with two dozen color samples. He spread them out on the top of the dresser. “Take your pick.”
She moved up beside him, frowning as her gaze moved over the small colored paper squares. Looking at them made her yearn for the preternatural sight she had once taken for granted. As a vampire, she had seen colors with more clarity. When she looked at fabric, she had seen each individual thread. Now, the various shades of blue, green, pink, lavender, and yellow looked faded, washed out.
Her preternatural hearing was gone, too. As a vampire, she would have been able to hear the traffic noise from the street below, if she wished, the tick of the clock downstairs, the whisper of a moth’s wings. But no more. It was as if she had lost half of herself.
“Mara? Hey, if you don’t like any of these, I’ll go get some more.”
Blinking back her tears, she said, “You pick one.”
Logan slipped his arm around her waist. “Listen, we’re gonna get through this, okay?”
“We?”
“I’m in this for the long haul, darlin’. However long it takes. I love you,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I’ve always loved you. Human or vampire, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
“Logan, you’re so good to me.”
“Geez, woman, cheer up. Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the hand. “Let’s go for a swim.”
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Good, neither do I.”
The pool was lovely in the moonlight. Logan flicked a switch on the patio and the backyard turned into a fairyland. Twinkling colored lights shone in the shrubs and the trees, and glowed from the bottom of the pool.
Mara sat on the edge of the deck, dangling her bare feet in the water.
Logan, never big on modesty, shucked his clothes while she watched. He was beautiful, a young Greek god come to life, Adonis and Apollo all rolled into one.
He winked at her; then, striking a bodybuilder pose, he flexed his muscles. “Impressed?”
Before she could answer, he dove into the water, then surfaced in front of her. “Come on in. The water feels great.”
“In a minute.”
With a nod, he pushed away from the edge and began to swim with long, even strokes that quickly carried him from one end of the pool to the other, and back again.
BOOK: Night's Mistress (Children of the Night)
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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