Quinn's Undying Rose (Scanguards Vampires #6) (10 page)

Quinn expelled an annoyed breath. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

He grabbed her arm and brushed past her. “Stay here.” Then he made a path through the crowd, effortlessly pushing people out of his way until he reached the two fighters.

With a lightning fast move he grabbed both men by their upper arms and pulled them apart, holding them to either side of himself. They struggled to get out of his hold, but their human strength was no match for his vampire power.

Stop fighting, you idiots.
He planted the simple thought into their minds, making them stop almost immediately.

“Enough!” he called out. “Nothing more to see here.” Slowly, the crowd turned away and went back to what they’d been doing before, dancing, talking, and drinking.

Quinn released the two.

“Get lost,” he ordered the girl’s protector while his mind sent the same command into the guy’s head. Mind control was a handy vampire tool. He didn’t like to overuse it, but he wanted to talk to Blake alone and wasn’t in the mood to do more in terms of damage control than he’d already done.

“Who are you?” Blake spat.

Quinn looked him up and down. Besides the fact that his clothes were a little disheveled, there wasn’t a scratch on him. “I might be just what you need.”

Outrage glittered in Blake’s eyes. “Hey, I don’t swing that way.”

“Neither do I, so don’t get your feathers ruffled. I have a proposition for you.”

Blake raised a questioning eyebrow. “What kind of proposition?”

Quinn motioned his head in the direction of the guy whom he’d fought with only moments earlier. “Looks like you’re a good fighter. I wonder whether you’d like to apply your skills professionally.”

“You mean like a boxer? Not interested. I don’t want my brain cells bashed out of me.”

“No, of course not. You haven’t got a single one to spare on such an endeavor,” Quinn hastened to say.

Blake nodded. “That’s right.”

Clearly, the jab had gone over his head. He added
slow-witted
to his grandson’s attributes, as well as a note to ask Rose whether she was sure he was indeed their descendent. Maybe there had been some mix-up in the hospital.

“I was thinking if you wanted to make a career move . . . we always need young men like you: strong, smart.” Quinn backed away a little. “But then again, you’ve probably got a great job already. I mean, look at you . . . ” He made a gesture toward his clothes. “So, this probably won’t interest you. Even though we pay well, but then . . . ”

“Then what?” Blake prompted, his curiosity awakened.

“It’s a dangerous job. Actually, I can’t really call it a job. It’s more like an adventure. Every day, you know. Only a select few are made for that line of work . . . ”

Quinn turned half away. “Forget I asked.”

Before he could walk away, he felt Blake’s hand on his shoulder, holding him back. Bingo.

He caught Rose’s confused stare, watching them from afar, before he faced his grandson again.

“What’s it about? I might be just what you’re looking for,” Blake said eagerly.

Quinn gave him an assessing look. “Well, we won’t know immediately. There are tests, you know.” On a whim, he added, “Like Men in Black, just without the aliens.”

Blake’s jaw dropped. “Cool! I’m in, man. What do I do?”

Quinn pulled out one of Scanguards’ cards from his pocket and handed it to him. “Be there tomorrow night at 9 p.m. That’s when the selection program starts. Ask for Quinn.”

“Quinn,” he repeated, staring at the card.

“And your name is?”

Blake stretched out his hand. “Bond. Blake Bond.”

Quinn did a double take. Rose had neglected to tell him Blake’s last name, and had obviously had some fun with him over that little omission. Great, add that name to the ego the kid had, mix it with the twenty brain cells at his disposal and the packed muscles of his body, and there was disaster waiting to happen.

“Bond, huh?”

Blake grinned from one ear to the other. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Well, see you tomorrow night . . . Mr. Bond.”

Turning, he walked back to Rose. Before he even reached her, he knew she wasn’t happy about what had just happened.

“Are you crazy?” she hissed. “You can’t just expose yourself to him. We were going to watch over him, not turn him into Rambo.”

“And what better way to keep him safe than bring him in and make him think he’s working for us. Don’t worry, it’ll work out perfectly.”

Yeah, perfectly blow up in our faces
, he mused. But what was done was done.

“He’s going to find out who we are.”

“And would that be so terrible?” Quinn asked.

Rose glared at him. “Yes, it would be. He’s got a right to a normal life.”

He took a step closer to her, eliminating any space between them. “He lost that right when Keegan decided to hurt you by harming him. Now, let’s go.”

Puffing up her chest, she gestured toward Blake who was now talking to a few other clubbers.

“We have to watch him. Keegan could show up anytime, anywhere.”

Did she really think he was an amateur? “That’s already taken care of. I’ve had somebody assigned to him from the moment you told me his name and where to find him.”

Her shoulders suddenly dropped. “Oh.” Then she took a deep breath. “Okay, where to now?”

Quinn bent his head to her ear and sensed her draw closer as if expecting to hear a secret. “Time to collect the first payment.”

As Rose’s breath caught, a white hot flame of desire shot into his groin. Yes, payment was just what he needed now.

11

She would never survive this. This much was certain.

Rose listened to the sounds of the shower in the en-suite bathroom and felt her body heat rise with every second that passed.

The room Quinn had led her into was a large bedroom, luxuriously furnished with a King sized bed and comfortable looking furniture in the sitting area in front of a fireplace. Yet instead of using the furniture, she paced about the room.

This was not good.

What had she been thinking, accepting his outrageous condition? If she slept with him, she would never be able to keep her emotional distance from him. She would want more, feel that closeness again that they had once shared. And she would want to confess. Tell him what had really happened. Everything. And it would get her killed.

When the floorboards creaked, shortly after the water was turned off, she knew her short reprieve was over. Quinn demanded what was due to him, and she had no choice but to do what he wanted.

Slowly she turned and looked toward the door to the bathroom. Shock made her freeze in place. He hadn’t bothered wearing a robe. A towel that barely covered his groin was slung low around his hips, the ends tucked in so haphazardly, they threatened to come loose if he moved.

Her mouth went dry at the sight of his chiseled abs and the defined muscles of his chest, arms, and legs.

Her breath caught, and she quickly averted her eyes.

A moment later, the soft trickle of his voice reached her. “Now, now, Rose. You’ve seen me wearing less than this.”

Maybe, but he hadn’t looked like that back then. Clearly the year he’d spent on the battlefield with Wellington’s troupes had made him leaner, more defined. And stronger. She chanced another look at his thighs, admiring the smooth skin that covered sinew and muscle, creating a physique that would have put any Greek god to shame.

Swallowing away the lump in her throat, she allowed her eyes to travel higher. It did no good to show weakness now. She couldn’t let him know how much he affected her. After all, this wasn’t about the fabulous sex they would have shortly. It was about power, about who would come out ahead. And if she admitted that the mere sight of him made her weak in the knees, she might as well throw in the towel now.

Collecting all her courage, she raised her head to meet his gaze and forced a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve seen a lot of men naked.”

When she noticed him narrow his eyes, she added, “More than I can count.”

A low growl issued from his chest, and for some strange reason, which she didn’t want to examine at present, it filled her with satisfaction.

“Don’t think you can play me, Rose. Those days are over.”

Quinn took a step toward her. Instinct dictated that she retreat, but her mind overrode her body’s reaction. Retreat would only make this worse. She wasn’t his prey.
He
would be
hers
.

“I wouldn’t think of it. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

And to make it obvious to him, she pulled her top from her jeans and yanked it over her head, tossing it to the nearby couch. The bra she wore was transparent. Had she known that he wanted to collect payment immediately, she would have worn something less enticing.

“I’m assuming you want to fuck now,” she said, getting busy with the button on her jeans. She’d always hated that word,
fuck
, but she forced herself to use it, showing him how little this meant to her, even if she couldn’t convince herself of it.

Only when his hand captured hers, stopping her from lowering her zipper, did she realize that he had moved. Startled, she lifted her head and collided with his gaze.

“I think you’re forgetting one thing: I’m in charge here. I decide when you get undressed and how. Are we clear on that?”

His voice was a low rumble, but she could barely concentrate on it, because he suddenly stood too close. His scent wrapped around her like a blanket, making it impossible for her to breathe. Little electrical charges seemed to dance on his skin and jump to hers, scorching her.

His hand suddenly came up, sliding underneath her mane, capturing the back of her neck in a firm grip. Effortlessly, he pulled her head closer.

“Do we understand each other . . . Rose?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Had she imagined it, or had his last word carried the same kind of tenderness as that night she’d become his wife?

She searched his hazel eyes, looking for an answer to her questions, but he gave nothing away. Whatever had been there only a split-second earlier, was gone. Or maybe it was simply an illusion, a trick her tired mind played on her.

That same mind now urged her to give in, to surrender. Maybe it was best that way. After two hundred years she was tired of running away, of hiding. She had to do this for Blake, because she had promised Charlotte, she told herself.

With a sigh, she brought her body flush against his. “I understand. Go ahead, take what you want.”

Quinn’s lips crushed hers before her last word was out. He wasn’t tender, not the way he’d been that night in London, and she was glad for it. Tenderness would have crushed her courage and crumbled her resolve to guard her heart. Yet his kiss had another effect: it stoked her desire.

His lips plundered, explored, and demanded. They were both hard and soft as they slanted over her mouth, urging her to surrender. Her skin sizzled under the impact, and his masculine breath only fanned the flames in her body.

Forgetting her plan to remain uninvolved, she slung her arms around his neck and parted her lips under the imploring command of his tongue. A rush of heat charged through her, setting her ablaze, robbing her of the ability to think. When his tongue forged into her, invading her mouth, she felt her brain disintegrate into a gooey mess.

She felt his silky tongue slide against her teeth, coaxing her to respond to him. Without thinking, she did. With the same perfect rhythm they had danced in the ballrooms of London, their tongues now twirled to a music she could sense reverberating through her entire body. The melody carried her away, cradled her in safety, yet hurtled her toward the inevitable.

Underneath her bra, her nipples chafed as he pressed her harder against his rock-hard chest. The ache was unbearable, but relief was nowhere in sight, because Quinn seemed to have no intention of letting go of her mouth yet to devote his energies to her aching breasts.

One hand was still at her nape to assure she didn’t escape the devastating talent of his mouth, the other one palmed her backside as he rubbed his groin against her sex. She felt the hard outline of his cock, but the towel still clung to his hips, preventing a closer connection.

With one swift move, she pulled on it and freed him from it.

A startled gasp was his answer. Then his kiss intensified as if he wanted to punish her for what she’d done. Did he really think he could silence her, take the lead in this? She would show him that she would not be the timid playmate he had once had, the one who’d looked up to him with wonder in her eyes. No, she would take what she wanted.

Digging her nails into his backside, she ground her sex against his hard-on.

Quinn ripped his mouth from hers. “Fuck, Rose!” His eyes were red as he glared at her. “I told you—”

“Fuck you, Quinn! You think I’m still the virgin who’s going to obediently spread her legs for you? If you wanna fuck, then we’ll do it my way!”

Before he could reply, she reached behind her, releasing the clasp of her bra, sliding the irritating garment off her body.

His gaze instantly shot to her breasts.

“And what way is that, Rose?” he ground out, the tips of his fangs peeking from between his lips.

Her mouth salivated at the sight. She’d never before considered the view of extended fangs sexy. But now, the way he glared at her, it suddenly weakened her knees.

“Well, it sure isn’t the way you did it back then!”

His eyes narrowed. Well, now she’d done it. He looked furious. He growled low and dark.

“I know what you’re doing. It’s not working.”

She lifted her chin. “What do you think I’m going?”

“Don’t play daft! You think by insulting me, can get out of your obligation. How stupid do you think I am? I’m going to have you. Right now. There’s no way out.”

It wasn’t at all what she’d been doing, but there was no point in correcting him. All she’d wanted was to get it over with, with as little emotional involvement as possible. And that meant as quickly as possible, without any drawn out foreplay.