Deadly Liaisons (36 page)

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Stripped Away:

She edged away from the door and closer to him. “I can see on your face how much you want me.”

He grabbed the doorknob, her proximity stretching his control like a sheet snapping wildly in the breeze before a thunderstorm.

If he dropped his head just a bit, he could sample the mouth he’d been fantasizing about since she’d first sauntered through the field office doors.

Her hand closed around his on the door. “Just for a few minutes.”

“We can’t.”

She snaked an arm around his neck. “Yes, we can.” She trailed her mouth along the edge of his jaw. “Al you have to do is give in. Like I have.”

“And you’l regret even going this far in the morning.” It was a chore to even speak at this point. Only his fierce grip on the door kept him from sweeping her straight into his arms.

“I won’t regret a thing because what I’m feeling is real.”

“And was what you were feeling real when you came onto Drew?”

She smiled. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m just pointing out that you don’t care who you get naked with.”

A wounded look fil ed her eyes before she moved quickly, reversing their positions to back him against the door. “My comment to Drew was nothing more than flirting, and he knew it or else he would have fol owed me home like the nympho we al know he is.”

She pushed her hands under the edge of his shirt. “What I said to you before, what I’m saying to you now, may be coming out because of that lust demon, but I’m not sorry for it. Not when I’ve wondered what it would be like between us, wanted to have you exactly where I’ve got you now—knowing how bad you want to give in.”

He swal owed hard, unable to fabricate a denial when she had every luscious inch tucked against him.

Quinn reached up and brushed her mouth across his. Sweet softness and the slow silky glide of her tongue exploded across his senses.

Common sense dictated he pry himself out of her arms and get the hel out of there. Although there might be a lot of truth to Quinn’s claim of wanting him as much as he wanted her, he knew she wouldn’t be kissing him senseless if not for the lust demon. But no amount of reasonable argument silenced the one part of him he couldn’t ignore. The part that demanded he take just a minute and appreciate this moment because it might never come back around. He’d be stupid not to take a ful taste of her and put his wandering mind to rest about what it felt like to fal into a gut-wrenching kind of kiss with Quinn at the wheel. The kind that led to hours of tangled sheets and slick sweaty bodies.

He groaned and swept inside her mouth, his hands moving from the door to grip her waist. Better than he imagined and worse that now he knew what he would be missing after this one kiss.

One kiss that didn’t end as she fisted her hands in his shirt and pressed every enticing curve into him. When she nudged his impossible-to-hide erection, his muscles locked in sweet anticipation of her doing it again.

That’s how he knew he was in trouble.

Though it kil ed him, he drew back. “I’m going now.”

“No.”

“Quinn,” he began already knowing his denials were running out of fuel.

“No. Tonight, right this second, that rule book is going in the garbage.” She tugged her shirt over her head.

A better man would have closed his eyes, would have snatched her shirt up and pressed it against her chest. He might not be a rule breaker, but he was far from a saint and couldn’t have stopped his gaze from tracing every smooth plane and inviting curve even if a Scion appeared out of thin air next to them.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door, grappling for the strength to do the right thing.

“Brax.” She lifted his hand and guided it to her breast. “Touch me. Learn me in al the ways I dream about when I’m at home alone.”

She caught his mouth with hers. He let her explore his mouth, and in turn lost himself in the slick stroke of her tongue. The way her body fit so snugly against his. The way she arched against him as he worked her bra off and brushed his thumb down the side of her breast.

One last burst of rational thought tried to squeeze through and kil the moment he selfishly wanted for himself. “You know you won’t remember this in the morning.”

“I might,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Probably not.”

She shook her head. “I want you so badly that nothing is going to let me forget what it feels like to final y have your hands on me.

”

Nothing but the infection.

She tipped her face up, her gaze far too perceptive for someone in the peak of a temporary pol ution from the lust demon. “If I do forget, I know I can trust you to tel me.”

“Which is why we should stop—” Why he should stop before what was left of his control disintegrated altogether.

She silenced his objection with another kiss that jolted his system. “We’re not stopping. We both know I’m safe from pregnancy from the shots,” she added, squelching his last logical argument for pul ing back, “and I’l remember this. I wil , Brax. Please tel me you’re not going to walk away now?”

She didn’t even give him a second to answer before she caged his face in her hands and poured every inch of her into a kiss that knocked his last objection right out of the bal park.

Then she backed away.

With the siren smile firmly in place, she stripped off her panties and headed for the bathroom. “I feel like a shower.”

Appreciating the sweet curve of her ass as she vanished into the private bathroom, he yanked his shirt over his head and started after her. She didn’t even look over her shoulder to see if he fol owed.

Because she already knew what he’d been slower to admit.

He wanted her too damn much to walk away now.

Mafia hit man. Vampire. The criminal underworld just got a whole lot darker.

Blood Vice

© 2009 Keith Melton

The Nightfall Syndicate, Book 1

Business has never been better for hit man Karl Vance. Boston is awash in mafia blood, and Vance has a certain fondness for blood. He’s a master vampire—one of the most powerful of his kind. Having sworn to never again feed on the blood of innocents, Karl preys instead on Boston’s criminal underworld. Which makes him a valuable asset to those who deal in death.

Maria Ricardi intends to use that asset to its ful extent in order to gain power within her patriarchal crime family. Vance thinks he’s been hired to keep track of the family’s princess, but she’s got a plan to get her hands dirty and earn the respect she deserves. And she’s not above using their instant attraction to get what she wants.

That driving ambition draws the attention of a rival clan’s newest and most dangerous “consultant.” Alejandro Delgado, Vance’s centuries-old nemesis. Delgado zeroes in on the one chink in Vance’s armor—his fondness for the headstrong Maria.

When she becomes enslaved by Delgado’s unnatural kiss, only one thing is certain. Vance has to decide which he wants more.

To settle the score—or rescue her soul.

Warning: Intense, graphic mafia-related violence, profanity, gangster slang, assassinations, fang punctures, explicit
vampire sex, betrayal, greed, murder, gangland warfare, pervasive supernatural mayhem, large-scale explosions, and
extremely expensive Italian suits.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Blood Vice:

Maria sipped her wine. Chateau Margaux, 1995. The color was almost black, but the taste was smooth and vibrant. She’d just slipped below the froth of suds in the tub, and the water jets pulsed against her skin. A single maroon candle burned on a gold plate near her feet, with rose petals strewn about the rim. Beyond the penthouse windows, Boston reclined in a glittering spread of lights, the ring of lights atop the Prudential Center glowing like a halo over downtown.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes.

Another long day.

An image of Karl Vance floated into her mind. That cool Northern European gaze. Eyes that would be frightening on the other side of a gun sight. Dangerous. She liked that.

Of course, the prick hadn’t returned any of her messages so far, which made her want to punch him in one of those cool Northern European eyes. Bastard.

Maybe he’d lost his phone. Maybe he was dead. Not likely, given his reputation, and besides, that wasn’t a possibility she real y wanted to consider. She had to reserve judgment until she had the facts. If she were ever going to lead, she had to learn to keep her head. Especial y when dealing with the egos of dangerous men.

Normal y Daddy didn’t let her play with the dangerous toys, but since her brother had been kil ed, her father had been a little more permissive. John Passerini had accused her of blackmailing her way in, but that was hardly true. Daddy had agreed only when she’d shown him what she could do with money, and right away he’d set her to work on the books—hide the money from the feds, create dummy corporations, incorporate, dissolve, merge, buy, sel , shelter, launder, and always—always—turn a profit.

It was a hel of a thing getting a leg up only because her brother Paul slammed his car into a concrete pylon. Asshole. She stil missed him, even after al this time. Now there was no trueborn Ricardi male to head the family after her father.

She was only a girl.

Never mind that she had plans to make Boston rival New York for syndicate incomes. Never-fucking-mind that. She was only a girl. Good for screwing and raising kids. Little else. Except maybe clearing the table and serving Sambuca. Wel , fuck them.

Her cel phone rang. “Witch” by Cold for her ring tone this time. A surge of adrenaline shot through her like some endocrine lightning bolt. She snatched the phone up and flipped it open.

“It’s done,” that deep, almost lazy, voice said from the other end. It sent a thril of desire through her that started at the bottom of her spine and rode its way up.

“Took long enough.” It was a fight to keep the excitement out of her voice.

She let the silence spin out until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Look, I’m glad it’s done. Good work. Why didn’t you return my cal s?”

“I’m returning them now,” he said. “You sounded as if you wanted updates. There’s no better update than success.”

“Do me a favor and answer next time, so I don’t think you’re dead in a trunk somewhere, okay?” She real y just wanted to get up and dance on the edge of the tub. Imagine the look on the capos’ faces when she brought in word of her success. Leverage against John Passerini and anyone else who thought her involvement a worthless eccentricity of her father’s—priceless.

“Anyway,” she continued. “Excel ent work, but we can’t stand around slapping each other’s backs al day. There’s a lot more to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

“No rest for the wicked.” Now he sounded amused.

“I want you to meet me here.” She found herself speaking before she’d even realized it, as if her body had reached up and wrenched control of her tongue away from her mind. “You know where I live?”

There was another very long pause.

“No,” he said final y. “Tel me.”

She quickly gave him the address. After she hung up, she cal ed the front desk to let the doorman know that someone would be coming by to see her. Then she lay back in her bath to enjoy a few last minutes of peace.

He arrived sooner than she expected—she’d barely dressed herself when his knock sounded at the door. The smel of soap and perfume scented the air. She hoped he liked it.

You’d better know what you’re doing.

Of course she did.

She considered lighting a few strategical y placed candles and then decided that was three steps way too overboard. No need to come across as desperate.

When she checked the door’s peephole she found Karl Vance standing outside in a perfectly cut, dark Caraceni suit and pale yel ow silk tie, hands in his pockets, and staring right back at her, as though he were aware of her presence behind the door.

That rattled her a bit. She couldn’t exactly say why.

She let him in and told him to make himself comfortable on the couches, but instead of sitting, he fol owed her to the bar area where she poured them each a glass of wine. He moved with the grace of some predatory animal, wolf or panther maybe, and his feet made no whisper on the carpet—a strange thing for her to notice, but notice it she did.

“So what are these ideas you’re so eager to share?” he asked, sipping the wine and then nodding as if he approved of the taste.

“Al we ever talk about is business.”

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “I thought that’s why you asked me here.”

“It was. But now that you’re here, I want to discuss something more interesting.” She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “So tel me about yourself, Mr. Vance.”

“Is this a belated job interview?”

“Let’s just say it’s professional courtesy.”

That intense blue-eyed gaze fixed on her. She thought about al the people whose last sight had been those eyes and she had to suppress a shudder. And damned if she wasn’t getting turned on.

“What do you want to know?” he asked softly.

“Everything. I learn by listening, and if there’s one thing a good leader needs, it’s the ability to listen.”

“And the ability to judge the truth of what she hears.”

“Who wants truth? I’l settle for clever flattery.”

He smiled, took another sip from his glass and moved over to one of the windows. The shades were open to the glittering city below, and he glanced back at her. “A beautiful view. I always love looking down on a night-covered city.”

“See? That’s what I mean. That’s the kind of thing you can tel me about.”

“If I weren’t mistaken, I’d think that inviting me here to discuss ‘business’ was just a cover.” He turned from the window and walked toward her. Had she commented on how graceful y he moved before? Oh, right. Several times.

She lifted her chin toward him. “And what if it was just a cover?”

He leaned in very close. She could feel the hunger in his gaze, searing across her skin like a striking match. “Then I’d have to ask why a cover was needed at al .”