Bitten by Darkness (5 page)

Sienna
shook her head slowly. He held out a hand. She licked her lips, suddenly
unsure.
What am I doing? There are monsters out there, eating girls, and I'm
going to go into a strange man's house?

He read
the indecision on her face. “I give you my word no harm will come to you.
Indeed, it is safer inside than in these darkening woods.”

How poetic
, she thought. As if in a dream, she put her hand in his.
His palm was warm. A thin scar bisected his life-line, a bad
omen,
her grandma would intone, if she were alive. “Why do I trust you?” Might as
well see what he had to say. He urged her up the stairs. As she climbed, the
familiar weight of her cell phone in her jeans pocket calmed her somewhat. She
could always call Linda’s dad for help.

He
grimaced at her question, looking unsettled. “Indeed, I was wondering the same
thing about you. Why do I trust you? I should be angry that you've been sitting
on my steps all these years.”

“What?
It's not like anyone was here. The place was abandoned. And I never told anyone
about it. I’m the only one who knows it even exists.” She hadn’t expected him to
say that.

He
shrugged.

She tried
again. “How did you scare off that thing that tried to hurt my friend? Even
drug addicts don't usually scare off just because of a broken bone.” They'd
paused in front of the door. When had they walked past the second barrier? She
hadn’t felt a thing.

Jasper
just looked at her, silent.

Sienna
sighed. She’d never been this close to the mansion’s door before. The heavy
wood was beautifully carved with scrolls and fantastic designs. She'd often
wished she could get close enough to touch it, but something always warned her
away whenever she'd tried to climb past the third step. She reached out a hand,
fingered the closest curl in the wood.

He
watched her touch the door. Something in his body language told her he was
uncomfortable with her questions.

“You're
not going to answer me, are you?” She turned to him, tipping her head up to
search his face. Not many men were tall enough for her to do that. He was
looking at her hands again. When his eyes met hers, she felt the spark between
them like an explosion in her gut.

“No,” he
said. He glanced away, then back. “I don't know. Perhaps the attacker knew I
would not hesitate to end his life.” He stared into her eyes.

Sienna
blinked, dizzy, as if the world had suddenly sped up.

“How did
you know he wouldn’t care about a little bit of pain?” His gaze pressed at her,
insisted on answers.

She
shifted, uncomfortable in his presence for the first time. “My mother told me.”

His eyes
cleared. “Ah.” He opened the door. Inside, a vast foyer stretched the length of
the house, softly lit by beautiful, antique sconces set along the walls.

She
grinned, amused. “‘Ah.’ Do you use that a lot? Whenever you can't think of
something to say, you just pretend you have a clue and say, ‘Ah.’
”

He
chuckled, ushering her into the mansion. The door shut behind them with a dull
thud. “You've figured me out.” He pressed a hand over his heart.

She
laughed aloud, despite herself. Oh, she liked him. She liked him a lot. “You're
a big dork.”

He cocked
his head at her, but didn't deny the appellation. “What would you like to see
first?
The kitchen?
The library?
That room's a bit worse for wear right now. It's been slowly disintegrating and
I haven't had time to renovate it.”

She
tapped a finger against her lips, conscious of the way his eyes followed the
movement. She had the strongest urge to flirt with him. That was … odd. She
never flirted. Most men didn't appreciate a woman of her height making
advances. It seemed to freak them out. She wasn't sure Jasper even noticed how
tall she was.

“How long
have you owned this place?”

“It's
been in my family for generations,” he said, leading her to the left. “I was
just heading to the kitchen for some milk when I saw you outside. Would you
like some?”

She
halted. He drank milk?
“Milk?
Seriously?”

He
grinned, looking strangely boyish. “I like milk.”

She
blinked. What the hell. “Yeah, okay.
Sounds good.”

In the
kitchen, he opened what looked like a cabinet, but which turned out to be some
kind of custom refrigerator. The only thing inside was a half-gallon of milk.
He opened another cabinet and pulled out two glasses.

“All you
have is milk?” She eyed the gorgeous, custom wood surfaces of the cabinets and
the granite counter and wondered how much it had cost to create a space so
beautiful yet functional.

“And
water. I haven't had time to go shopping for more, yet. I was too busy updating
the bedrooms and bathrooms.” He handed her a half-full glass.

She
sipped at it, relishing the foamy sweetness of whole milk. “It's good.” She had
to smile. She'd never expected she would end up in here, drinking milk with the
most handsome man she'd ever met.

He smiled
at her over his glass. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

“House?
It's more like a mansion.”

“Yes,
well, more people used to live here.” His smile faded as he took her empty
tumbler and set it in the stainless steel sink.

She bit
her lip, wondering what she'd said.

He ran a
hand down the counter and looked out the bay window. His shoulders were stiff.

“Maybe I
should go.” She started for the door.

“No.”

He moved
so fast she blinked in astonishment. His hand was on her arm.

“You're
obviously upset. I don't want to intrude,” she said uncomfortably. What she
didn't add was that she'd come here to be alone. Dealing with a suddenly prickly
male wasn't on her list of fun things to do on a Friday night when all she
wanted was some peace and quiet.

“I'm
sorry.” His thumb worried the fabric of her sweater. “Unwelcome memories have a
way of sneaking up on a person.”

She
looked at his face. He meant what he said. Unwillingly, she relaxed. He smiled
and opened his mouth to say more, but she put a finger to his lips, shocking
them both. His eyes widened.

“
Shhh
,” she ordered. He blinked. She didn't say anything
more. Instead, she let her fingertip trace the soft fullness of his lower lip.
His breathing sped up.

“What are
you doing?” he whispered.

She shook
her head and slid a hand around his neck. “Come here.”

He bent
down and she kissed him gently, as if to apologize for all the pain he'd
obviously suffered. Or maybe to assuage her own pain, she wasn’t sure. It
didn’t matter, anyway.

Jasper
gasped and she kissed him again, trying to will peace into his body. She felt
like she stood outside of herself, watching her body do things that made no
sense. She'd never kissed a stranger before.
Never wanted to
offer comfort to a man.
When she tried to pull away, he groaned and
gathered her up, taking control of the kiss. He coaxed her mouth open. She
shuddered and he crowded her back against the wall near the door, his tongue
painting designs on her lips, her teeth, taunting her with his expertise.

“What are
we doing?” she gasped.

He
answered by wedging his thigh between her legs. She closed her eyes and tipped
her head back at the feel of him. He kissed her jaw and claimed her mouth
again, without ever answering her question. She knew he didn't have a response.
She slid her hands into his hair and held on. He growled and pressed against
her body, wedging his thick cock against her hip. She bit his lip and kissed
him back, reveling in the unfamiliar sensation of having a man taller than her
between her thighs. The slow burn of heat she'd felt ever since she set eyes on
him flared deep in her bones.

“Jasper—”
She tore her mouth away. “This is insane.” She kissed him again. His skin
seared her palms.

He lifted
his head and looked into her eyes as he slowly slid his hands down her arms and
up the sides of her chest. When his palms slid over her breasts she nearly fell
down. “Jasper, please…” She didn't know what the hell she wanted. For the first
time in her life, that hole in her psyche was filled—not comfortably, and not
easily, but filled nonetheless. It burned and teased at her and she couldn't
decide if it hurt or felt good.

“What are
you doing to me? Why did you kiss me?” he asked, deliberately flicking over her
nipples.

She shook
her head. “I, I don’t know,” she stuttered. His clever fingers assaulted her
and she couldn’t make herself push him away. “This is you. All you,” she added.
It was dark now and she could barely make out his face. They'd never turned on
the lights in the kitchen.

He
groaned and put his hands on the wall to either side of her head. Her breasts
ached with sudden loneliness. “No.” He kissed her again, short and sharp.
Final.
“We can't do this.” Abruptly he turned away. “I'm
sorry,” he said into the dark, low and anguished, as if that would make her
feel any better about what they'd done together. Before she could say a word,
he left the kitchen.

Sienna
leaned on the wall, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
Clearly she'd lost her mind. If he hadn't stopped … she shuddered, violently.
She would've let him make love to her. Fuck her against the wall.
A complete stranger.

She
pushed off, locking her knees when her legs threatened to give way.
No, I
will not give in to this infatuation
, she told herself. She stalked through
the foyer angrily, hoping he was watching. She didn't look back.

Chapter Eight

Jasper
rested his elbows on the stone railing and let the cool air soothe his
frustration. Despite his overall foul mood, he felt strangely amused. He seemed
to find himself leaning on railings a lot: here in the manor, back on
Dekcol
at his penthouse.
Of course, this view is much
better
, he thought, looking down over the rear courtyard.
No rushing
minions, no Blood Council spies.
Nothing but trees, the
occasional firefly, and my ship.
The star-skimmer rested on the
flagstones like a silver bird: sleek and deadly. He wondered what he would've
done if he'd managed to finish showing Sienna through the house. How would he
have explained that decidedly un-Earthlike piece of technology to her? Perhaps
she would've just nodded serenely, in that composed way she had.

He
thought about the look on her face when she'd kissed him: simultaneously
startled and determined. He'd been so shocked he froze when her fingers touched
his face. When she’d leaned in, he couldn't bear to stop her. He'd wanted to
touch her so badly. He’d let her kiss him, and then kissed her back as her
personality fuzzed over and through his mental space. She was strong and
confident, yet she tasted so sweet.

He knew,
deep in his gut, that Sienna was his destined mate. He wished he'd never met
her. He didn't want to fall in love. He didn't want a family, not again. He'd already
lost two, but he had no choice. This ridiculous craving for her would only get
worse. She was the woman he ought to marry. He knew it, damned though he was.

He rubbed
his face, suddenly exhausted.
No. I will not give into biology.

Not
everyone found their perfect match, but those who did certainly didn't fool
around, arguing with themselves like this. His brother Ambrose certainly
hadn't, even though his woman had been an Earth native with no
Dekcolian
blood. Sara was fully human. When they'd married,
Jasper didn't expect it to work. He didn't think she would be able to fit into
his brother's empty spaces, but she had. Of course, just because the biology of
their match was true didn’t make
Dekcolian
society
accept
them.

Even so,
Jasper had stood with his best friend, his adopted brother, his only family,
and given witness to the vow-saying and the blood-sharing. When the family bond
snapped into place he almost couldn't believe it. For a brief moment, his head
hurt, and then the empathic bond his people considered their greatest gift—
and
your curse
, he reminded himself—had settled into a sister-bond every bit as
strong as that from a native
Dekcolian
. When he'd
recovered from the shock, he'd looked at his brother only to find him laughing.
The bastard.

Jasper
smiled at the memory. No matter. He would put it off forever if he had to, damn
the consequences. He wasn't here to fall in love.
To marry.
To become vulnerable.
He had
work
to do. He cast a wistful look at the dark forest then turned away. He had more
testing to do on the
nanites
in his lab. He couldn’t
afford to linger here, pining over the impossible.