And while she might be confused about why Anthony had a sudden urge to drag her back to New Orleans, he sure as hell wasn’t. Anthony wasn’t the most powerful vampire around, but he was stronger than most. And he wouldn’t have missed the sizzling attraction between the two of them last night. That kind of chemistry crackled in the air to a vampire’s senses. And it must have infuriated Anthony. Christian had seen the covetous look in Anthony’s eye when he’d looked at Natalie. Who knew how long he’d been lusting after her, playing her along by pretending to be some distant relative, the benevolent uncle. Natalie might have fallen for it, but Christian wasn’t buying it.
The obvious attraction between him and Natalie--the one that she seemed determined to ignore—had obviously pushed Anthony to make his move. Hence, the sudden invitation to New Orleans. And if Natalie rebuffed him . . . well, let’s just say that Anthony struck Christian as the kind of vampire who wouldn’t hesitate to use his power to get what he wanted.
Christian glanced at Marc, who was already finishing off his macchiato, and placing his cup in the dishwasher.
“I’ll see what I can dig up on Baudin,” Marc said. “He’s probably one of Anthony’s spies, but in whose camp?”
“Hubert’s down in Mexico,” Christian suggested. “That’s the next conflict, and Anthony knows it.”
Marc nodded his agreement, and left the kitchen. Christian followed the light sound of his footsteps down the hall to the basement stairs, and heard the basement door close behind him. That was one of the renovations Christian had mentioned to Natalie. They’d upgraded and finished the basement to include an office and sleeping quarters for the two of them, all secured within the confines of a first-class vault, which had been built by the best vampire construction team in the country. It hadn’t been easy or cheap to secure their services, but they’d been worth the cost, and the wait.
Christian switched his attention back to Natalie, who was gazing at the empty doorway where Marc had left the kitchen, like a child waiting for her mother to reappear.
“He’ll be fine,” he told her, intentionally misunderstanding the look on her face.
“What?” she said absently, blinking her awareness back to him.
“Marc. He’ll be fine. The office is downstairs.”
“Okay,” she said, suddenly nervous. “Should I, um . . .”
Christian gave her a questioning look.
“Are you going to drive me back to get my car?” she asked, as if doubting he could actually drive.
“No,” he told her, standing.
“I can call a taxi—”
“No,” Christian repeated, moving into her space until his thighs were pressed against her hip where she sat on the bar stool. He speared his fingers through her hair, then gripped the nape of her neck in a blatantly possessive hold. “You won’t be going home tonight.”
“But I have to—”
Christian bent his head and took her mouth, a soft brushing of lips at first, enough to give him the scent of her, and to feel her lean into his kiss. He smiled inwardly and ran his tongue along the crease of her lips. Her lips opened in a gasp, and he took it as an invitation. Fingers twisting in her silky hair, he tipped her head back, and slid his tongue inside, exploring, tasting. Wanting more, he closed his teeth over her plump lower lip, and was rewarded by a hungry little sound as she strained upward, trying to get closer to him.
He growled softly, one arm sliding around her back and pulling her halfway off the seat, crushing her breasts against his chest. She was a slender woman, but her breasts were full and lush, the nipples poking through her blouse to rub against his chest.
He inhaled deeply, drawing in the warm scent of woman, the delicate musk of her arousal. He could have her right now, if he wanted. He could lift her up onto the counter and spread her out for his pleasure. And her pleasure, too. But Christian knew women. And while the lovely Natalie would welcome him between her thighs, and would no doubt come screaming around his cock more than once . . . she’d regret it—as they say—in the morning.
And he didn’t want Natalie for one night, or two. He didn’t know exactly how much he did want. But he knew he wanted more than that.
He broke the kiss gently, touching his lips to the corners of her mouth, to her cheeks, her eyes. She made that hungry sound again, and the way her hands were gripping his waist made him want to devour her, but he pulled back.
She blinked up at him in confusion.
“It’s late,” he said quietly. “And you should stay here. You’ll be safer.” He made it her choice, but he had no intention of letting her go home.
Her mouth tightened briefly, and he thought she’d argue, but she didn’t. “Fine. But only because I’m tired.”
Christian bit back his grin. “Come on, I’ll show you the guest room.”
NATALIE WAS CONFUSED. She’d heard so much about the seduction skills of vampires, how everything for them was about blood and sex. And here she was, in Christian’s house, not even sure exactly where in the city she was, totally at his mercy . . . and he was turning on the lights of his guest room. His guest room! What the fuck?
After that kiss. . . . And, hell, that wasn’t just a kiss. That was a seduction. He’d made love to her mouth, kissing her more thoroughly than she’d ever been kissed before. And she’d assumed that was only the beginning. She’d expected to feel the scrape of his fangs at any moment, had braced herself for the overwhelming tide of sexual need that was featured in every story she’d ever heard about vampires.
But instead, he was leaving her alone in this very nicely furnished bedroom. He was being the perfect host, pointing out the fresh towels, the toothbrush still in the package, the terrycloth robe that would have been right at home in the most expensive spa. She checked surreptitiously to see if it had a monogrammed “C” on the pocket. Maybe he had so many female guests that he was always prepared.
But if that was true, then why was he leaving her here alone? Because it sure seemed like he was. He’d gotten her all stirred up with that kiss, and now he was going to wish her sweet dreams?