“That must make downloading your p**n a tedious business,” she mocked.
With a flurry of motion, Cezar had Anna pressed into the doorway of a large office building, his arms clamped around her waist and his head buried in the curve of her neck.
He’d ignored her mocking taunts because he realized she was terrified. But he’d be damned if he’d accept any slurs concerning his sexual prowess. Not when he was bloody well aching with a need to take her right there on a public street.
“Vampires have no need for such titillation,” he assured her, scraping his fangs over the pulsing vein at the base of her throat before pressing his lips to the sensitive flesh. She shivered, her hands clutching at his arms as if her knees were suddenly weak. He trailed his lips down her collarbone, using his teeth and tongue to make her groan in pleasure. “Why bother with faux sex when you can always have the real thing?”
Lifting his head he claimed her lips in a kiss that revealed the dark, hungry passion that held him captive. Her lips readily parted, allowing his tongue to tangle with hers as his hands skimmed over her back with a restless need.
Anna could snap and snarl all she wanted, but she couldn’t disguise the fact that she still desired him. The passion between them would never, could never, change. No matter how many centuries passed.
Drowning in pleasure, Cezar pressed her hard against his aching body, desperately wishing they were alone in a dark room with satin sheets and hours to spend in each other’s arms.
His fantasy was interrupted when Anna’s fingers tightened on his arms and her head arched back.
“Cezar…wait.”
His hands gripped the back of her delicate gown, his muscles trembling with the effort to control his passions.
“I’ve been waiting two centuries,” he muttered thickly.
“I smell apples.”
He stilled, his eyes narrowed. “And?”
“And I always smell apples when Sybil Taylor is near.”
His senses reached out, easily locating the fairy who was creeping down the dark street toward them.
“Damn that fairy.” Reaching behind Anna he easily wrenched open the steel and glass door, thrusting Anna into the vast marble foyer as he followed close behind. “How the hell did she find us?”
He didn’t give his companion time to respond as he pressed her behind one of the large potted palms and took his own position next to the door. With a low word he was wrapped in shadows, invisible even to the fairy’s eyes.
Only a few minutes passed before Sybil was sniffing around the door, her expression wary as she stepped over the threshold and studied the darkness.
“Anna?” she called softly, a small crystal shimmering in her hand. “Anna, are you here?”
More than a little unhappy at having his intimate moment with Anna interrupted, Cezar flowed forward and wrapped his arms around the fairy.
“How did you follow us?” he demanded, squeezing her painfully as she attempted to struggle against his hold.
“Release me, vampire.”
“Wrong answer.” He pressed his fangs against her neck, hard enough to draw blood.
She gave a squeak, her struggles ending as she froze in fear. “No…wait.”
“How did you follow us?” he repeated.
“I scried for Anna,” she answered, referring to the art of crystal-gazing.
Unlike vampires, fairies were capable of small amounts of magic. But even fairies needed a part of the person they were scrying.
“With what?”
The scent of apples became nearly overwhelming as Sybil struggled to contain her fiery temper. Fairies were creatures of emotion, flitting from one to another with such speed a wise demon tended to give them a wide berth.
“I stole her hairbrush so I would have strands of her hair,” she at last gritted.