Christian(50)

Christian stepped out of the townhouse and onto the porch, forcing Anthony to back up or be crushed. And he must have seen something more in Christian’s face, some vampire quality that she didn’t yet understand, because shock abruptly erased all traces of scorn from Anthony’s expression, and he nearly stumbled when he took an urgent step backward, away from Christian.

“The only reason you’re still breathing, Lord Anthony,” Christian snarled, “is because Raphael has claimed your death for himself. But push me a little harder, and I’ll forget all about the promise I made.”

Anthony paled even further as he backed down the walkway. “This isn’t over, Duvall,” he hissed. “Not for any of you. You have no idea what’s coming.”

Natalie pushed into the open doorway, shaking off Christian’s hand when he tried to stop her, and refusing to budge until Anthony’s limo was out of sight. She was shaking inside, coming down from the cascade of fight-or-flight hormones triggered by the confrontation. Christian pulled her out of the way and closed the door, and she locked down her emotions, refusing to wimp out and cry or, God forbid, start trembling like a leaf.

Christian put an arm over her shoulders, and she waited for him to give her an encouraging hug, and tell her it would all be okay, that he’d protect her. But instead, he used his arm to turn her in the direction of the stairs, and said, “Go get dressed.”

Natalie scowled. Bossy fucking vampire. But since she had no argument with putting on some clothes, she didn’t call him on it. This time.

“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.

“Home.”

CHRISTIAN CONFERRED briefly with Marc once they arrived at the house. There was work to be done, but most of it involved Marc’s talents, not his. They needed to find out as much as they could about the real situation in Mexico. Anthony’s parting shot might have been bluster, but it had held a ring of truth that he couldn’t ignore. Something more was coming, and they needed to figure out what it was. Christian considered calling Vincent to discuss the problem. They’d established something of a rapport in their previous brief conversation. But before he did that, he needed more information.

“I cracked Anthony’s system, but there’s nothing there,” Marc said, shaking his head. “Ten years ago, I could’ve walked right through his firewalls. But now everyone has security experts and closed networks, with no Internet access. Get me in the building, and I’ll have full access in no time.”

Christian snorted dismissively. “I don’t think Anthony’s going to be inviting us back anytime soon.”

“I’m not giving up yet. There are still a couple of trails I want to follow.”

“Better you than me,” Christian said, and slapped Marc on the shoulder before leaving him at the basement door and heading back to the kitchen, where he could hear Natalie moving around.

He was relieved to be able to turn the research over to Marc. He wasn’t in the mood to sit down at a desk and stare at a computer screen. He was altogether too energized, almost as if his skin would split from the pressure building inside him. It could have been the challenge, the fact that things were finally moving forward, but that wasn’t the real reason and he knew it. It was Natalie. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d heard her voice on the phone. Meeting her had only sharpened his desire. But even worse was the knowledge that he wouldn’t be satisfied with a quick night or two buried in her body. He wanted to keep her.

“I’m going for a swim,” he announced, ignoring Natalie’s look of surprise as he strode through the kitchen, yanking his sweater off as he walked. The pool had been one of the big selling points of this house for him. Swimming was the ultimate relaxation. Well, that and sex.

He glanced back as he slid the glass door open and flicked on the pool lights. “Are you coming?” he asked Natalie. She was standing on the other side of the kitchen, still wearing the hoodie she’d pulled on before leaving the townhouse, and looking confused.

“I don’t have a suit,” she protested.

Christian laughed. “Neither do I,” he said, and started to strip.

NATALIE FOLLOWED Christian outside just in time to catch his dive into the pool. Steam formed a translucent fog over the turquoise water, and a bare ripple of movement marked his progression across the pool. She took a few tentative steps closer to the pool’s edge, eager and yet reluctant to see Christian in all his naked glory. Even clothes couldn’t conceal the athletic perfection of his body, the breadth of his shoulders and chest, his strong legs and tight ass. She was desperate to see him in nothing but skin, but she was also terrified. She wasn’t used to feeling anything this intense for a man. She had a grinding need for him that would only be satisfied with sex. Sweaty, throbbing, groaning sex. Something she was pretty sure she’d never had before. Sure, she’d had sex a few times, but it had never been like this. Not like she was sure it would be with Christian.

He surfaced long enough to execute a perfect racing turn at the end of the pool, then disappeared again as he started his return lap. Natalie blinked in confusion. He was actually going to swim? She’d assumed it was just a way to get the two of them naked in a pool, but he was doing laps? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.

Blowing out a disgruntled breath, she figured she should at least take off some of her clothes. She was beginning to feel foolish standing there, clutching her hoodie around her like a terrified virgin.

She dropped the sweatshirt on the same chair where Christian had tossed his pants. Toeing off her Nikes and socks at the same time, she considered whether to go further. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, she wasn’t sure yet—she was still wearing her most unsexy underwear.

“Don’t be such a prude, Nat,” she muttered to herself. She turned her back to the pool—okay, maybe a little prudish—and pulled off her T-shirt and jeans, adding them to the pile of clothes. She shivered in the cool night air, and turned to eye the steam coming off the pool longingly. Even if she didn’t go in the water, it would be warmer at the pool’s edge. She glanced down at the boy shorts and sports bra she was wearing, and rolled her eyes. She was being stupid. Her underwear was less revealing than the bikini she normally wore to go swimming.

Moving over to the pool, she sat on the edge and lowered her legs into the water. It felt good, and the steam was just as warm as she’d thought it would be. In the middle of the pool, she could make out Christian’s blurry form as he continued his damned laps. For all the attention he was paying her, she might as well strip naked and dance under the stars. Laughing at herself, she braced her arms behind her and leaned back, but the sky was far too saturated with city lights to reveal any stars for her to dance under. She closed her eyes instead, and enjoyed the silky feeling of warm water against her legs, the faint heat of the steam on her face, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in days.

Which was why she screamed when two big hands slid up her calves a moment before Christian emerged on a warm wave that splashed half of her body and left her sitting in a puddle of cooling water.

She was still gasping, her heart racing, when he braced his forearms on either side of her thighs and grinned up at her.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asked, his legs treading slowly, keeping himself above the water with effortless ease.

Natalie stared. He was just as beautiful as she’d known he would be. Water sheeted off powerful shoulders and slid down the planes of his chest. His arms, next to her thighs, were corded with muscle, his hands a hair’s breadth away from her bare skin.

“Natalie?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as they reflected the underwater lights.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, fingering the wide strap of her bra nervously. “I’ve never . . .”