Blood Lust - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,46
on the sofa.
“This smells amazing,” she murmured, busying herself with slathering a croissant with the butter and honey before sipping the tea. “Where did you get it?”
Heaving a rueful sigh, he settled on the cushion beside her. The warm bath and the food were clearly restoring her flagging energy, but she was still trying to pretend they weren’t both on the edge of going up in flames.
“The small bakery down the street was willing to take mercy on a poor old priest,” he said. “It’s fresh out of the oven. I will reimburse them and the boutique that supplied your clothes eventually.”
She polished off two croissants and her cup of tea before leaning back with a small yawn.
“That was delicious, thank you.”
He was reaching toward her before he could halt the movement, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.” Her cheeks heated as his fingers brushed down the curve of her neck, lingering on the pulse that beat at the base of her throat. “I think the drugs are almost gone.”
“They should be completely out of your system in a few hours,” he assured her, his hand cupping her delicate cheek as a blast of fury trembled through him. “Bastards,” he hissed, once again consumed by a fierce urge to track down the Brotherhood and destroy them.
Slowly, painfully.
Her lashes lowered in a belated attempt to hide the hunger that flared through her dark eyes.
“I overheard my captors talking,” she said, no doubt hoping to distract him. As if anything less than a nuclear bomb could divert the increasingly painful need. “They had some way to know that we were going to be at the farmhouse.”
“Yeah, Kaede heard the same thing,” he muttered, his brooding gaze locked on her mouth. “He called Valhalla to warn the Mave when he couldn’t get ahold of us. Unfortunately, it was too late.”
She shivered as his thumb brushed her lower lip. “How did they know?”
“They have a new leader who claims to have a direct connection to God.”
She abruptly glanced up, her eyes wide. “She speaks to God?”
He gave a dismissive shrug. “It’s a predictable tool to keep her followers loyal to the cause. Kaede’s working to discover the truth of how she’s getting her information.”
Her brow furrowed as she considered the various possibilities, easily coming to the same conclusion he had.
“It had to have come from Valhalla,” she breathed.
“Lana swears it couldn’t have come from there,” he said, his voice distracted.
He didn’t want to waste their time alone talking about the Brotherhood or the potential betrayal of Valhalla.
Hell, he didn’t want to be talking at all.
Without warning, Myst stiffened. “You spoke with the Mave?”
Bas frowned at her unmistakable annoyance. Then, realizing what had caused her irritation, he felt a burst of smug satisfaction.
His beautiful clairvoyant was jealous.
“Briefly,” he murmured.
“She—”
“It’s a worry for another day, cara,” he interrupted, done with the conversation. In this moment they were alone, and safe, and conveniently close to a bed. He was done waiting. Rising from the sofa, he grabbed her hand and gently tugged her to her feet. “We should get some rest.”
Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. Bas swallowed a groan, his cock pressing against the zipper of his slacks.
“We’re staying here?” she demanded.
“Yes.” His thumb brushed her inner wrist, covertly tugging her closer. “The Brotherhood will expect us to be on the run. It’s safer to stay here until the initial search moves on.”
She hesitated, as if trying to consider the flaw in his plan. Then, at last, she gave a slow, grudging nod.
“I suppose that makes sense.”
His lips twitched. “Then why are you so nervous?”
She glanced toward the far side of the room. “There’s only one bed.”
“It’s big enough for both of us,” he murmured, his fingers skimming up her arm. “We might have to squish together, but . . .”
She tried to glare in outrage, but he didn’t miss her tiny shiver of pleasure, or the leap of her pulse as he traced the gaping neckline of her robe.
“That’s not funny,” she breathed.
The tips of his fingers rested against the gentle swell of her breasts.
“Are you afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?” he teased.
Her dark eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid your oversized ego might smother me in my sleep.”
He chuckled, lowering his head to brush his lips over her forehead and down the narrow length of her nose.
“My ego isn’t the only thing that’s oversized,” he said in soft tones. “Do you remember?”
She sucked in a