Darkness Revealed Page 0,25

I’ve been completely and utterly alone for…for what seems like forever. Are you happy?”

He was more than happy. He was fiercely pleased by the notion she hadn’t given her heart to some unworthy bastard.

He was also smart enough to keep his satisfaction to himself.

Smoothing his hand down her hair, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I didn’t mean to upset you, querida.”

She gave a snort of disbelief, her eyes narrowing. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have some…” She frowned as she struggled with the appropriate word. “Mate hanging around in a damp cave?”

A slow, wicked smile touched his lips at her grudging curiosity. “I have no mate.”

“Why not?”

His lips skimmed down her cheek to nibble at the corner of her mouth. “Some things, Anna Randal, are worth waiting for.”

Chapter 6

Anna’s heart was lodged somewhere near her tonsils as she felt the light scrape of Cezar’s fangs against the edge of her mouth.

This was insanity.

No. Waking to discover a gorgeous, heart-stopping, drool-worthy vampire in her bed was insanity.

Quivering with the need to feel the aching pleasure of his kiss was full out la-la land.

Unfortunately, her body didn’t give a damn about the sanity of responding to Cezar’s expert touch. It only knew that it had waited almost two hundred years to feel the cool pleasure of those fingers exploring her trembling curves and the erotic satisfaction of his fangs sliding into her flesh.

The dark, sweet craving intensified as his head bent lower, finding the tip of her straining nipple beneath the lace of her gown.

A groan caught in her throat as sharp-edged bliss shuddered through her body. His tongue was teasing the sensitive bit of flesh, flicking and stroking until her back arched in a silent plea.

Dammit, she had promised herself this wouldn’t happen. There was no way in hell she was going to let this man think she was an oversexed tart who would spread her legs every time he passed through her life.

A promise easily made when Cezar had been nothing more than a painful memory. She’d convinced herself that it had been her innocence that made her so susceptible to the delicious vampire. After all, she had spent two centuries resisting the various men (some of them downright edible) who had desired to lure her to their beds. She was older, wiser, and capable of controlling her desires.

Ha.

She was going up in flames as his fingers coasted down the back of her thighs, tugging up the gown with a determination that was unmistakable. Even worse, the soft words he muttered beneath his breath as his lips searched out her other nipple were drugging her mind, making her forget precisely why she was supposed to be saying no.

He had to be casting a spell over her, she fuzzily told herself. That was why her fingers were digging into his arms until she was drawing blood, and why her core was so hot and wet that she thought she might come at the slightest touch.

Otherwise it would mean…

A sudden pounding on the door interrupted the terrifying thought.

“Cezar.” A male voice floated through the air, making Cezar lift his head with a blast of dark curses.

“Si?” he bit out.

“Sorry to intrude, but we have a situation.” Styx’s commanding voice carried through the door with remarkable ease.

There was another string of curses as Cezar grudgingly released his hold on Anna and surged from the bed.

“I’ll return in a moment,” he muttered, heading for the door.

Following in his wake, Anna reached for the robe that Darcy had kindly loaned her and, shoving her hands into the sleeves, silently assured herself that the shivers that wracked her body were nothing more than relief.

Only they didn’t feel like relief.

They felt like gut-wrenching frustration that was settling in for a good long stay.

“Wait, Cezar.” She forced herself to reach out and lay her hand on his arm. “If this concerns me then I want to be involved.”

Coming to a halt he turned to stab her with an impatient gaze. No. Not impatient. Frustrated. The same expression that was tightening her own features.

She didn’t doubt if she glanced down she would discover he was still hard and aching to be inside her.

With an effort she squashed the urge to confirm her theory and instead concentrated on holding that burning gaze.

“Querida…” he began, only to give a startled blink when she pointed a finger directly in his face.

“I mean it,” she gritted. “The days when I was forced to beg on my knees for