Rare Vintage (4 page)

She felt like a goddess, a giver of life. She wanted to make
them feel good and sated. She wanted them to feel the love in her heart. Or
rather—she wanted Marc to feel the love she held for him alone, the willingness
to follow anywhere he led, even into a ménage with his good friend, Dmitri.

She liked Dmitri, but she loved Marc. It was both the most
fulfilling and the most frightening realization she’d ever had.

“I love you, Marc,” she whispered as oblivion claimed her.
It was only a dream, so she could say what was in her heart without fear of
consequences. For this one moment out of time, in the privacy of her mind, she
could speak freely, knowing she could never say it in the real world.

She felt his arms tighten around her as she drifted away,
satisfied as she’d never been, her body and soul humming with the glow of
ultimate satisfaction.

Chapter Seven

Marc heard her words and they shocked him out of the
dreamstate. He woke abruptly in his room below ground, filled with the weakness
that struck him during the daylight hours, but he remembered everything about
the shared dream.

Kelly had said she loved him.

He hadn’t dared hope she was harboring feelings for him, but
now that he’d heard the heartbreaking words from her lips—even if just in a
dream—he grew afraid for the first time in many long years. He didn’t want the
love of a mortal woman. He really didn’t want to become involved with a
creature that would grow old and die, and leave him alone again. He’d done it
in the past, and each time he’d lost another piece of his heart. He’d steered
clear of emotional commitments for decades and though Kelly called to him as no
other had in a long time, he would steer clear of her as well.

If he could.

Marc was honest enough with himself to know the attraction
between them might be too hard to fight, but he’d do his best. He’d fulfilled a
fantasy. He’d trespassed in her dream and taken her like a savage with Dmitri’s
help. That should hold him for a while. From this moment on, he would avoid
being alone with her as much as possible. It would be better for both of them.

Marc was resolved, but somewhere in the back of his mind he
wondered how long he could hold out. Kelly called to him in a way no woman ever
had. He’d do his damndest to stay away, but he feared he was too weak to
accomplish that goal for long. Still, he had to try. For her sake, and his own.

Dmitri went back to his territory that night, and Marc did
his best to avoid Kelly. He enlisted Ian’s aid in keeping tabs on the woman,
preferring to man the electronic monitors that spied on her when she didn’t
know it.

He bedeviled himself watching her working alone in the large
office while Atticus and Lissa were off playing lover’s games. Ian was a
constant presence, annoying but faithful, doing the job Marc had tasked him
with to protect Kelly. A silent shadow, Ian’s stealthy presence acted as a
check on Marc’s nearly uncontrollable impulses. Everything in him wanted to go
to her and take her in the flesh, but he was a civilized being—for the most
part.

He could at least be civilized about this. He was a guest in
Atticus’s home. He would abide by Atticus’s rules. And he would go to any
length to protect Kelly from the gruesome fate Lissa had foreseen, even if that
meant cutting himself off from Kelly completely.

He limited the time spent in Kelly’s presence. He noted the
strange look in her eyes the few times they came face to face. It was both
accusatory and hurt, a combination that cut him to his core. Each time he
thought of it, he realized the wisest course of action was the one he was
on—whether she understood his sudden withdrawal or not.

After a time, she got used to the new détente. Life rumbled
along as usual, with Kelly ably managing the vineyard offices for Atticus and
even taking a few messages for Marc when people called the vineyard seeking
him.

And so it was no great surprise when she delivered a message
to him just after he rose for the evening. Atticus had sought him out for a
private moment in his study and Kelly tracked them there, tenacious in her duty
to deliver the message.

“A man named Leonard Gibson is trying to reach you. He asked
his private secretary to set up a meeting at your earliest convenience.”

Atticus looked over at Marc and raised one telling eyebrow.
“Looks like he’s decided to face you head on.”

“Damn!”

Kelly was a little surprised by the vehemence of Marc’s
tone. It was the first time she’d ever heard him use any sort of vulgar
language and it made her realize that this Leonard Gibson had to be something
of a thorn in his side. If his tone hadn’t conveyed it, the look on his face
would have confirmed her guess. Something was definitely up.

“What are you going to tell him?” Atticus asked.

“I don’t suppose you’re willing to take my offer?” Marc
challenged in return.

Atticus held up both hands in denial. “I told you already, I
don’t want to be Master. I’m enjoying my new wife too much to enter politics.
Even for you, old friend. I’m sorry.”

Kelly’s eyebrows rose in surprise at learning that Marc had
been ready to hand over his position of power to Atticus. It had to have
something to do with the phone message, but she was too polite to come right
out and ask. Instead she listened, shamelessly eavesdropping on the men.

She had missed Marc. Ever since he’d kissed her the night
before she’d had that scandalous dream, he’d avoided her. She’d missed his
handsome face and charming grin. She’d missed the way he teased her and most of
all, she missed his kiss—that one fateful night had ruined her for any other man.
The memory of those stolen moments haunted her dreams and her waking moments,
but Marc had drawn away.

In retrospect, it was probably for the best, but it still
hurt. She was glad he’d taken the initiative and backed off. When sanity
returned, she knew there was no future in a relationship with a vampire. In
fact, she wasn’t altogether certain that he hadn’t just wanted her blood. She
wasn’t sure if there really
was
a difference between sex and blood for a
vampire. She wasn’t sure if she hadn’t been reading too much into his
attention. Maybe all he’d wanted was a good time, and she’d fallen for him like
the sap that she was.

Better not to get any more involved than they already were.
She could be professional, and he’d been a gentleman the few times she’d seen
him since that interlude on the veranda. It was good they’d both had time to
come to their senses. Still, she couldn’t help but admire the way he looked,
the way he talked, the way he moved. He was a handsome devil, but he was no
good for her and it was time she woke up and smelled the coffee.

She refocused on the ongoing conversation, alarmed by the
varying expressions of disgust, resignation and fury on their faces. Something
was seriously wrong if even Atticus was upset. He was usually the most even-tempered
of men since his marriage to Lissa, but he was visibly upset.

Marc paced, turmoil following his every step to permeate the
room.

“Then it’ll be death,” he said, turning to face Atticus.

Kelly gasped, and the two men seemed to finally realize she
was in the room and had heard everything.

“Whose death?” The words tumbled from her lips, all thoughts
of restraint banished by the air of desperation in the room.

“Nothing to be concerned with,
ma belle
,” Marc
assured her, but she noticed he wasn’t giving any details. For all she knew,
they could be talking about his death.

Suddenly she knew she didn’t want to see him dead. No matter
what had happened between them, she didn’t wish him ill. Quite the contrary,
she thought with shock. She’d come to respect and like him. More than like, if
she were being honest with herself. In a perverse way, she missed their little
confrontations and found herself oddly disappointed—even lonely—that he wasn’t
making a nuisance of himself anymore.

“Like hell,” Kelly’s voice rose. “You can’t just say
something like that in front of me, then pat my head like a toy poodle and tell
me to be on my way.”

“
Ma petite
, I can assure you, I do not think of you
as a poodle. Where do you get such notions? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dismiss
your question. I only wish to spare you worry. It’s not my death we were
discussing, but Leonard Gibson’s. If he presses his challenge, we will battle
to the death and he is far less experienced than I. His death will be quick and
as painless as I can make it, but I’ll have to kill him if he challenges me.”

“That’s totally barbaric.” Kelly was appalled.

“It’s the way of our kind,” Marc spoke in soothing tones,
moving closer to her. He stepped right up to her, his arms coming around her
loosely, naturally. She didn’t even make a token objection to his nearness.
Instead, she burrowed closer, tucking her head under his chin. She rested her
cheek against his beating heart, like she was made to go there. She didn’t
question why she felt this overwhelming need to be close to him, and apparently
neither did he. The distance that had been between them was no more.

Atticus seemed surprised for the short moment she met his
gaze before she closed her eyes, but it didn’t really register. All that
mattered was Marc. She inhaled his warm, exotic scent, ignoring everything but
being in his arms again. Being home, at last.

“I’ll be right outside.” Atticus cleared his throat and
excused himself.

She’d forgotten he was even in the room. A moment later,
Atticus was gone, leaving the two of them alone, though she only noted his
departure peripherally as Marc held her close.

“I don’t like the idea of a fight to the death, Marc. You
may be a royal pain in the ass, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Royal, I am not. But you’re not the first to call me a pain
in the ass, so on that score you might be right. I can assure you, I’ve fought
many challenges over the centuries, and I’ve held on to this position for some
time. That I still hold it should be proof enough that I can prevail against
almost any challenger.” He pulled back to tip her chin up with one hand. “Do
not worry,
ma petite
. Though it touches my heart that you care for my
welfare.” He chuckled as a gentle smile stretched his lips. “I thought you
hated me.”

She reached up to cup his cheek. “I don’t hate you, Marc,
but you do frighten me.”

“I could never hurt you,
ma belle
. It’s not in me to
cause you any kind of harm. I would sooner greet the dawn than cause you pain.”

“Why?” she whispered. “Why me?”

Marc’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. All I know is that you
fire my senses more than any woman has in more than five hundred years. When I
smell the delicate scent of your skin, I want to lick you all over. When I see
your beautiful face, I want to kiss you senseless. And when I hear your
laughter, I want to be the one bringing you joy.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Precisely for those reasons,
ma cherie
. You are far
too tempting, and I do not trust myself around you.”

His voice trailed off as he tilted her head, angling his
head down so she could see his kiss coming a mile away. He was giving her a
chance to move away, a last chance for escape, but she didn’t take it. Instead
she raised her beautiful, stubborn chin and met him halfway, participating
fully in the kiss, not merely accepting it, but demanding it.

Chapter Eight

The thought of her open acceptance sent his senses reeling,
almost as much as her delicate flavor. She was the finest wine, softly scented
and full of delight as he stroked her lips open with his tongue. His sharp
canines lengthened almost to their full extent before he could reign in his
uncontrollable response to her. As it was, he nicked her soft lip, sending just
a microscopic trace of her essence into their kiss, bringing his hard body to
instant attention and to an even higher state of arousal.

It wasn’t enough for him to really get a taste of her. More
a tease to his enhanced senses. A tantalizing taste of what could be. He wanted
more. His body ached for more.

It seemed he had walked around half-aroused since the moment
he’d caught sight of the lovely Kelly. That was unusual in itself. Centuries
had passed since a woman could so completely captivate his senses and even
longer since he couldn’t control his masculine responses to a lush female form.
The dream had only made it worse. He knew her darkest desires now and had an
idea of what she was like in passion. The memory of how she had responded
tormented him every waking moment.

He plunged his tongue inside, savoring the taste of her, and
knew he must have more. Licking and tasting, he drew away from her delectable
mouth, down over her chin to nuzzle his sharp teeth against her neck. He was
almost there. He salivated at the thought of the rare vintage pulsing through
her veins and how he suspected it would soothe the hungry ache deep in his
soul.

“I’ve got to have you,” he whispered, drawing back,
preparing to strike.

A hard shove against his chest caught him off balance.

Unprepared as he was for her attack, she actually succeeded
in moving him a few inches away from the tantalizing skin of her neck. He
looked down into her blazing eyes, surprised by the light of battle in them
when only a moment ago he could have sworn she was as deeply under his spell as
he was under hers.

“I am not on the menu, LaTour. If that’s all you want from
me, you can find a blood donor somewhere else.” She pushed against his chest,
and he was so surprised by her sudden reversal and the tears gathering in her
beautiful eyes, he let her go.

How could he explain that sustenance was the furthest thing
from his mind when he thought of tasting her essence? He realized taking her
blood into his body would be more than a simple act of feeding. This one woman
had a power over him that no woman in over six centuries could claim. This one
woman was not just another warm body flowing with life.

This one woman represented something much greater.

He didn’t dare hope that she could be the One for him, but
she was definitely something special. It was time he made her aware of that
little fact. It was time for some real honesty between them. Time for him to
lay his cards on the table. Before she could flee the room completely, he was
there, in front of her, blocking her way.

“What I desire from you goes beyond sustenance, Kelly, so
get that thought right out of your head. If all I wanted was a meal, any warm
body would do. For that matter, I could have clouded your mind and you would
have bared your neck to me eagerly.” He pulled her almost roughly into his
arms. “But I don’t want that from you. I want you to come to me freely, of your
own will.”

“Is that some kind of vampire mojo? Do you need me to invite
you in so you can have total control over me? Because if it’s something like
that, you can think again, mister. I am my own woman. I won’t subjugate myself
to you or any other man.”

“Who said I want to subjugate you,
ma petite
?” His
hold tightened as he stared into her eyes, using just a tiny hint of his
influence to coerce her answer. He didn’t want to use his powers on her, but
this was too important to let go. If she’d been hurt in the past, he needed to
know about it. “Where did you get that idea?”

It wasn’t easy, but she was just susceptible enough to his
mental push to comply. Her eyes went hard and cold, and he nearly growled.

“Who hurt you,
bebe
?” he whispered, desperate to
erase the harsh look on her soft features. She shook her head. “Not me,” she
said finally, haltingly. “One of my friends. Her husband beats her, I just know
it, but she won’t say a thing against him. She won’t leave him or even try to
get out of her marriage. She’s completely consumed by him. Under his total
control. I won’t ever let that happen to me.”

The relief that shuddered through him took Marc by surprise.
He wasn’t happy she had to witness one of her friends in an unhealthy
relationship, but he was glad she hadn’t suffered at the hands of some other
man. He hated to think what he might have been driven to do if a man who’d hurt
her still lived. One thing he knew for certain, such a man would not live for
long, and he wouldn’t enjoy his last moments. Marc would make sure of that.

“I don’t want to control you, Kelly. I want you to be my
partner. My equal.”

“Me, the equal of a six hundred year old vampire? Yeah,
right. I’m as far out of your league as it’s possible to get, Marc.” She tried
to pull out of his arms, but he wasn’t letting her go.

“I think not.” He caressed her back, his hands making small
circles. “I think you’re perfectly capable of playing in my league, as you put
it. In fact, I think you outclass me by a mile. I’m the one who must work to be
worthy of you, not the other way around. Won’t you give me the chance?”

“Why? Why me?”

She’d asked him that before, but he still didn’t have a good
reason he could articulate. He only knew in his soul that it was so.

“I know not,” he whispered, drawing her close. “I only know
that I need you as I have needed no other woman in a very long time. I tried to
stay away, but it’s impossible. I want your blood, but I also want your body. I
want to make love to you until the dawn parts us. I want to drown in your
essence and fill you with mine. It’s as basic and as complicated as that.”

“And what about when you tire of me?” Her voice was small,
almost smothered against his shoulder. “I don’t want a broken heart, Marc, and
you could easily tear mine to shreds.”

He kissed her temple lovingly. “I doubt I could tire of you
within your lifetime,
cherie
. Suppose I promise to stay with you as long
as you want me? That would give you the control over how long our relationship
lasts, no?”

She moved back just the tiniest bit to look into his eyes.
“You would do that? You would yield part of your control to me?” She seemed
stunned by the idea as he nodded. “But how can you know that you’d want me
beyond the next week or two? We could be totally incompatible and yet you’d
promise to be with me for as long as I want? It doesn’t make any sense, Marc.”

He pressed her small hand to his heart. “But yet, it is how
I feel. I’ve only known you a short time, but my heart feels as if it’s known
you forever. It’s been waiting forever, just for you.”

She backed off, and he let her go this time. “You’re scaring
me, Marc. You’re beginning to sound the way Atticus does about Lissa.”

His head shot up. “I do, don’t I?” He mused on that idea for
a moment. “But yet, I am still unsure as to whether you could be the One,
cherie
.
To be honest, I doubt I will ever find my one and only, but I do admit to
feeling drawn to you as to no other woman before.”

“How does a vampire know when he’s found his mate?”

“I’ve heard tales, but Atticus told me that when he made
love to Lissa for the first time, they joined more than just bodies. They
joined minds and souls. She was in his thoughts as he was in hers.” Marc was
filled with awe at the very idea. “It must be heaven itself.”

“So if we had sex and it was just sex, then it would prove
we’re not destined to be mates, right?”

Marc looked back to her, regret in his heart. “That’s true.
You either are my only one, or you’re not.” They both thought about that for a
moment. It was a weighty concept.

“Okay,” she finally said.

His eyes jumped to hers. “What exactly are you agreeing to,
Kelly?”

She met his gaze with resignation, a bit of daring and a lot
of uncertainty. It was an odd mix, but he felt something similar down deep in his
heart, so he understood. This was a monumental moment. He could feel it.

“I can see how much this means to you and to be honest, I’m
curious myself. I’m agreeing to have sex with you. Once.” She was emphatic on
that point. “If it proves to be more than just sex, we can take it from there,
but I'm not agreeing to anything more until that question is settled.”

Marc’s blood heated as he stepped closer to her. “You do
realize that when my kind makes love, we take the blood of our partners, don’t
you? We need both physical and psychic sustenance and psi energies are
strongest at the moment of climax. I will want to drink of your essence as I
make you come for me.”

She seemed nearly mesmerized by his words and the hot look
of his eyes. Mutely, she nodded. Memories of her cries of delight in their
shared dream haunted him. He wanted to hear that again, for real this time.

“Then meet me in the burgundy bed chamber at midnight. I’ll
hurry to take care of my other tasks for this evening beforehand so I can spend
the rest of the night devoted to your pleasure. If you don’t appear, I’ll know
that you’ve changed your mind.” He wanted to crow in triumph at the acceptance
written on her features, but made an effort to control his emotions. It
wouldn’t do to gloat. Or jump for joy, either. That would be highly
undignified, even if he did feel giddy inside.

“I’ll be there,” she whispered. “I don’t renege on
promises.”

“Neither do I,
ma cherie
, and I promise that I will
show you more pleasure this night than you have ever felt before. There are
some advantages to having lived over six hundred years, and I plan to show you
them all, one by one, starting tonight.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back
and then her palm with a lingering touch before letting go and leaving the room.
He had a lot to do before he could make good on his promise, but he reveled in
the fact that before this night was through, she would be his.

Atticus met him in the hall and waited for Marc to follow
him into the nearby library. When the door shut behind them, Atticus turned to
face Marc. He knew it was only right to let his old friend have a say in what
happened in his house, but Marc would not be denied. He would make love to
Kelly this night, regardless of what Atticus had to say.

“My mate won’t like this, but I can see how much you need to
settle the questions in your mind. I think we will have no peace in this house
until you’ve had her. I ask only that you not hurt her.”

“I would never.” Marc was insulted, though surprised by
Atticus’s consent. Kelly had been a point of contention between them. He wasn’t
asking him not to take Kelly, but only not to hurt her.

“I don’t think you would hurt her physically, Marc, but it’s
clear her heart is involved in this…whatever
this
is between you two.”
Atticus threw his hands up in the air. “Even I can see you could hurt her badly
with just a harsh word. She’s been moping around this house since you backed
off teasing her. Lissa worries for her friend. She believes Kelly might be in
love with you.”

The thought of it sent a thrill through his being, but Marc
also felt the weight of responsibility as he’d never felt it before. He felt
hopeful and joyous, but also reverent, wanting to cherish the idea that Kelly
might feel affection for him. And he’d done little to earn it.

“I’ll keep your words in mind, but Atticus, you have to know
I cannot ignore this any longer. I’ve tried—” He pounded one fist into his
other hand in frustration. “I’ve tried to stay away from her…to no avail.
Better to settle the question, I think, before the impulse to take her becomes
completely uncontainable.”

Atticus looked at him with grave eyes. “Just remember the
vision, Marc. I won’t be listening at the door, but I will be attentive.”

“Thanks for that, at least.” Marc grimaced at his friend. “I
mean only to make love to her, not harm her emotionally or physically. That
vision will not come to fruition this night. That I can promise you.”

Atticus regarded him for a long moment before nodding. “All
right then. I’ll keep Lissa occupied so she doesn’t worry. Enjoy your evening,
Master LaTour.” Atticus winked, bowed slightly and left Marc shaking his head
at his friend’s temerity.