the time with absolutely no fear."
"I am not afraid."
Her eyebrow shot up, the one that always intrigued him, but this time she looked suspiciously as if she might be laughing at him. "Oh, yes, you are. You look terrified-and pale."
"I'm pale because I've expended energy flying without first taking sustenance. I am the prince of the Carpathian people, not Santa Claus."
"That's not an excuse. As the leader of our people, it is your duty to play the part of St. Nick. It's tradition."
"Not Carpathian tradition. It is not dignified, Raven." Mikhail swept his black hair to the nape of his neck and secured it with a thin strip of leather. His black eyes glittered at her, making every attempt to intimidate her into submission.
She burst out laughing, completely unsympathetic and certainly not scared. "Tough luck, hotshot. It's your job. Carpathian tradition or not, you promised me we'd have a big Christmas party for everyone. Our people have come from the United States, South America and several other countries to participate in our celebration. We cannot possibly disappoint them."
"It will not be disappointing to do this ridiculous thing?"
Her laughter deepened into a rich, appealing sound that played down his spine and made his stomach do a funny little flip. Only Raven could do that to him. Only Raven could make him want to do anything on Earth to please her.
"Trust me, Mikhail, the entire Carpathian race will be disappointed if they do not see you playing the role of Santa Claus." She stroked his face with her fingertips. "A nice white beard." Her hand ran down his chest to his hard, flat stomach. "A nice round belly..."
"You aren't at all amusing." But she was, and it was taking everything he had not to smile at her.
"You promised me you would do everything to make our first Christmas gathering a success."
"I was not thinking at the time. You were distracting me," he grumbled.
"Was I?" Raven asked, blinking innocently. "I can't remember."
Mikhail wrapped his arms around Raven and pulled her into his body. Nibbling on her neck, he tasted her pulse, felt her answering excitement and knew it would always be this way between them. Raven. He thought he couldn't love her more, yet each day the emotion grew stronger until he felt he was bursting with it. Sometimes, when she wasn't looking, he could feel blood red tears welling up in his eyes. Who would believe the powerful prince of the Carpathian people would be so enamored of a woman.
He had been born with the ritual words of binding imprinted on his brain as had every other male of his kind. It had been a shock to discover not only that a human woman could become his lifemate, but that she could be successfully turned to his species. More than the complete amazement of all of that was the overwhelming love and hunger he felt for her, that it grew stronger with every moment they shared together. Looking at her could steal the breath from his body.
"You always smell so good."
Raven reached back to circle his neck with her arm, dragging his head closer so she could kiss him. The moment his lips touched hers, fire exploded in his gut and spread low, racing through his system until his blood thickened and his pulse pounded. He pressed his body closer so she could feel the evidence of his desire.
She laughed softly. "You always make me forget what I'm doing. I'm supposed to be cooking the turkey. It's been a very long time and I have to make certain I don't make any mistakes. We've invited the Ostojics and any guests staying at the inn. Even though we can't eat it, we need human food for them and since it was my idea, I couldn't very well pass on the most important item on our dinner menu."
"Yes, you could." Mikhail's voice suddenly turned sly.
Raven whirled around to study her lifemate's all too innocent expression. "What are you up to, Mikhail?"
"I'm passing on the duty of being jolly old St. Nick."
Raven put both hands on her hips and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "You're up to something very, very bad. I can feel your laughter. What is so amusing?"
"It has just occurred to me that I have a son-in-law."
A slow, answering grin spread over Raven's face even as she gasped in shock, one hand flying to her throat. "You wouldn't. Not Gregori. He'll scare all the children. He couldn't look jolly if he