“So there’s nothing we can do?”
He waggled his brows. “Well, I can think of a thing or two, but you need to return a call from your tour company, and Maggie phoned to tell you she’ll be home by seven.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip but had to ask. “Are you going back to Daytona?”
“Not tonight,” he said, rising from the bed. “You’re down to one bottle of Starbloods, and I thought you might need a ride to the health food store tomorrow.”
It was a lame excuse, and I knew he knew I knew it. But what the heck. Saber was staying a little longer.
“Sure, that would be great.” I smiled as I rose from the bed and stood within a foot of him.
“Fine, then. I’ll let you return your call and get dressed. ” But he didn’t move toward the door. “I’m going out for a sandwich. You want anything?”
“No thanks.”
I stood rooted to the floor. So did Saber.
“I’ll lock you in, just in case.”
“Okay.”
Pheromones spiked—his and mine. His eyes darkened and, when he stepped closer, I swayed toward him. He lifted a tangled lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “Princesca.”
I blinked at the nickname. “What?”
“I watched you sleep this afternoon.”
I nodded. “I saw the indention in the pillow.”
“You don’t sleep like you’re dead.”
“I don’t?”
“No,” he said, cupping my jaw. “You make little sighing noises in your sleep.”
“Oh.”
I didn’t snore? Yes!
“I’m going to do now what I wanted to do then.”
“Wh-what?”
He framed my face with his hands, his fingers sliding into my hair. “Kiss you again.”
My body went liquid. “Will this be soon?”
He smiled. “Oh, yeah.”
His thumb teased the crease of my mouth for the barest second before his lips closed on mine. Next thing I knew, we were locked pelvis to pelvis, tongues tasting each other in a kiss so hot I felt fevered. He rubbed his jean-clad erection across my lower belly, and my ears rang with the force of my own blood pumping hard through my veins. When he gripped my butt to lift me higher, fit me into him, my knees buckled. He kept us upright, but only until he angled me onto the bed and followed me down. Breath harsh, he nuzzled my neck as he settled between my legs.
“Princesca,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice as deep as I wanted him to be inside me.
“Saber, my ears are ringing,” I breathed as he flicked my shirt buttons free. “Is that supposed to happen?”
“It’s the phone,” he murmured as he kissed the slopes of my partly bared breasts.
“What phone?” My nipples tightened as Saber slowly slid the soft shirt fabric over them.
“Do you care?” He closed his mouth on one aching nipple.
“Nooo, ohhhh.”
The tug of his suckling shot straight to the spot his erection teased, and I gasped and arched into him. He thrust back, and laved my other breast, flicking the nipple with his tongue. Waves of pleasure rolled through me, and yet there was more, just out of reach.
Skin. I needed to touch his skin.
“Saber,” I said, hardly hearing my own voice as I pulled at his shirt.
He groaned when the material rent and fell away. I smoothed my hands over his back, learning his shape and texture from broad shoulders to spine to narrow waist.
He rolled off me, and I felt my nylon pants and panties peel off with a few sweeps of his hand. When the air hit that much bare skin, reality hit, too. The pros and cons of sex with Saber raced through my brain, but the biggest pro was that we were here now, hot and ready.
I opened my eyes to find his smoldering gaze steady on my face.
“Do you want to stop?”
“Do you want me to raid Home Depot?”
He blinked. “Home Depot?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice husky. “Maggie says when you’re horny enough to chew nails, it’s time for sex.”
His sensuous lips lifted in a killer smile. “I’m gonna give you a lot more than sex, love.”
I knew he didn’t mean
love,
and, as he ran his hand lightly down the center of my body from neck to belly, it didn’t matter. Saber would initiate me, and, however odd a couple we might be—even for this one time—I was safe in his arms. When his fingers inched lower still, he kissed me, and I lost all reason. He stroked me with his torturing fingers, sliding over my folds, into me and out again. The pressure built, and he urged me to let go, but I didn’t know how.
“Saber, I need more,” I gasped. “I need you.”
Through a haze of lust, I saw him chuck his jeans and black boxers, and, when he braced his body over mine, I spread my legs to welcome him. He probed, and I stretched to enfold him. My legs locked around his waist, and with a long quick thrust, he filled me. After a moment to adjust to him so deep inside, he stroked, nipping at my mouth, my neck. I rode a swell that crested but wouldn’t break.
“Princesca,” he cried out, and sank his teeth into my neck.
Suddenly, the crest peaked and crashed, and I tumbled in waves of pulsing pleasure. When the tremors eased, and our breathing slowed, Saber gave my neck a lingering kiss, then pushed up on his elbows to smile into my eyes.
“Good thing you heal fast,” he said, pushing a strand of hair off my forehead. “I just gave you the mother of all hickeys.”
Memory flooded back. “That’s right, you bit me,” I said, awed. “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to do that.”
“Nope,” he said, teasing me with another thrust. “You. Don’t. Bite. People.”
“True.” I squirmed under him. His eyes went lusty again. “And I guess that’s fair, since I tore your shirt.”
“Ummm. My last clean one.” He slid out of me just a little, then slowly back in, deep, hard, hot. My legs locked low on his, I caressed his butt. “Saber?”
“Yeah?” he croaked.
“Kiss me again.”
“Soon?” he asked, flexing inside me.
“Now.”
NINETEEN
Cosmil sat on the shanty porch in the willow wood rocker. The dappled late afternoon light danced in the clearing, but it did not soothe him.
“Francesca was shot last night,” he said, rustling the newspaper as he refolded it. “The animal attack is reported as well.”
He sighed and glanced at Pandora. “I should not have recalled you so soon, my friend. I put you both in danger.”
Cosmil watched Pandora for a reaction, but the big cat sat on its haunches beside the rocker and calmly licked a massive paw. Too calmly, perhaps, yet Cosmil would not scold Pandora for defending herself against the drunkard who had cornered her as she’d made her way home. It had only been a small bite, after all, not a kill. Pandora ceased licking and raised her amber gaze to Cosmil.
You foresaw only the vampires as a threat last night. Magick is not infallible.
“True.” Cosmil paused. “She handled herself well, did she not? Used her power without abusing it.”
You no longer see her as a monster, Old Wizard.
Cosmil sighed. “Not for a long while now, though I see more tests for her before the week’s end.”
Then Triton comes at last?
“Yes, and we must protect Francesca until he arrives.”
You wish me to watch her again?
Cosmil buried a hand in Pandora’s ruff. “Please, Pandora. I must concentrate on cloaking Triton while he travels.”
Shall I kill this man who smells of blood?
“Not out of hand,” Cosmil said. “Human justice must be served, if possible.”
Pandora snorted but leapt off the porch to head for the city. Cosmil drew a circle in the air, and the concealing spell he ’d conjured for Pandora’s extra protection snapped into place.
Showering with Saber was my erotic dream come true, only better. Unsure and shy at first, I was soon hotter than the water cascading over us. Saber showed me a creative use for the built-in tiled bench and the term
pulsating showerhead
took on a whole new meaning.
We toweled each other off and might have drifted back into bed, but the phone rang incessantly. Finally I dashed to answer the cordless extension unit that had fallen on the floor—don’t ask me when—while Saber went to dress in Maggie’s room. It was the ghost tour company asking me to fill in for a guide who had a family emergency. I wanted the evening free to spend with Saber, but they’d tried everyone else on the backup list, so I agreed to take the gig. I’d be safe with Saber, and though I didn’t know where he’d be sleeping tonight, I hoped to grab more alone time with him. Let’s face it, I hoped to grab more of him, period.
Ten minutes later, I was wearing terry cloth shorts and a T-shirt and blowing my hair with my hurricane-force dryer when Saber padded up behind me, barefoot and bare-chested but wearing his dress slacks.
“Heard anything more from Maggie?” Saber yelled over the noise of the blow dryer.
“Nope, but she’s due home in a little over an hour,” I called back, smiling as our gazes met in the mirror. He caressed my hip and held up a black turtleneck pullover. “You think Neil would mind if I borrow this?”
“He’ll never notice.”
“He will if you rip it off me,” he said and pulled the thin sweater on. His muscles rippled under the fabric, and my hair dryer suddenly seemed too hot.
I switched it off and turned to Saber. “Need I mention the biting incident again?”
“That little bitty hickey isn’t healed yet?” He hooked one arm around my waist and lifted my hair for a peek.
“Not quite.” I laid my hands on his forearms to brace myself when Saber nuzzled the fast-fading bruise. “I’ll wear a shawl for the tour tonight.”
He froze and pulled back. “I thought you had the night off.”
“The guide on the schedule had an emergency, and no one else was available. We can go together and, um, do something later.”
“I can’t go, Cesca.” He let go of me and raked a hand through his hair. “I have to go to Hastings to investigate a suspected werebite, damn it.”
“A werebite?” I echoed. “I thought werecreatures were extinct.”
“They are, far as I know, but it’s my job to check out this kind of report. Problem is, Gorman’s out of the hospital.”
I tensed, then shook it off. “Saber, it’ll be fine. Hastings is only twenty or thirty minutes away, and Gorman isn ’t likely to take a run at me so soon—not after the beating he took.”
Saber gathered me in his arms and hugged me tight. “You’re overestimating his intelligence.”
“I’m gauging his self-preservation,” I replied, hugging him back, enjoying his scent and how natural it felt to be in his arms. He dropped a kiss on my head and stepped back. “Still, an ounce of prevention won’t hurt.” He flipped his cell phone open. “You have the late tour?”
“No, the eight o’clock.”
“Let’s see if March can suggest an off-duty deputy to hang out with the tour.”
“Saber, a bodyguard isn’t necessary. Really. By Murphy’s Law alone, I should have an easy tour tonight.”
“I trust firepower, Cesca, not fate,” he said, wheeling out of my room when March came on the line. I admit his protectiveness was endearing. I eavesdropped on his end of the conversation while I wielded the flatiron—until he went into Maggie’s room. I lost the words then, but made pretty darn good inroads on my hair by the time Saber came back carrying his duffel bag and looking grim.
I set the iron on a towel and gave Saber my full attention. “What’s wrong?”
He dropped his bag on my bed. “March gave me an update. Ballistics positively matched one of the .22s we found in Gorman’s house as the murder weapon, but the serial numbers were filed off. We can’t trace it.”
“And Gorman swears up and down that it was planted, right?”
“You got it. There’s no sign of a .22 rifle, and if Yolette was set adrift in a leaking boat, it hasn’t shown up yet.”
“What about the soil samples from the planter box?”
“No word yet. Hell, that could take a week. And,” he added darkly, “Etienne made good on his threat to call the French consulate. A small jet is on standby to fly him out of here Monday with Yolette’s body.”
“A small jet to go all the way to France?”
“We think he may go to Miami. There’s no flight plan filed yet.”
“Saber, how soon do you have to leave for Hastings?”
He glanced at his watch. “The sooner the better. March doesn’t seem to have a deputy available tonight. If I can wrap up the bite business quick, I can be back before nine and catch up with your tour.”
“Before you go,” I said, heading for my desk and laptop, “let’s see if Eugene sent those photos he took in Daytona.”
“What do you expect to find?”
“I don’t know, but it can’t hurt to look.”
I slipped into my chair and retrieved my e -mail. Saber leaned over my shoulder, his hand braced on the desk. A few minutes, and there they were in an attachment, Eugene ’s surveillance photos ranging from wide angles to telephoto shots. They weren’t all as clear on my system as they might be firsthand, but he ’d captured several good shots of Yolette and a frightenedlooking Rachelle.
“What did Yolette do or threaten to do that would spook a vampire as much as Rachelle looks spooked?” I asked aloud.
“And, if she was under Ike’s protection, why didn’t she ask him to help her?” Saber said.
“I don’t know, but get a load of Laurel in this one.” I enlarged a picture of Laurel shoving Rachelle away from the club’s doorway.
“Pull up the shot of Etienne in the car again,” Saber directed.
I did and enlarged it several times until we could make out the flask in his hand. A flask that seemed to wink silver in the parking lot light.
“Why carry a flask when the club sells booze?” I asked.
“Maybe he had something else in it. Is there a shot of him drinking from the flask?”
I scrolled through the photos again, enlarging here and there, but only one showed the flask.
“Damn, another dead end,” I said, closing the file.
“At least these put the Fourniers with Rachelle on the night before she was found dead,” Saber said. “And did you notice Gorman’s not in these shots? Not even in the wide-angle crowd shots.”
“Which means,” I said as I stood, “he wasn’t close enough to pose a threat, even if he was armed.”
Saber cupped the back of my head and stepped close to me. “I need to hit the road, but promise me you’ll be careful.” He moved his mouth over mine and murmured, “I have plans for us.”