Undeniable (16 page)

“Ten four, Little D.”

Diana grinned and shook her head. No matter how hard she
tried, she couldn’t get him to stop using CB lingo on the walkie-talkie. “I was
just wondering if you’ll be staying here tonight after the campfire.”

“That’s a ten four, Little D. The Monday Campfire Jamboree
will hopefully go well into the night. Then I’ll have to be available to go
searching for the drunks who wander into the woods.”

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Diana twirled a pen between
her fingers. “Oh.”

The pen slipped through her fingers and dropped onto the
desk. Drunks. She wondered if Jamboree nights had always been just an excuse to
hunt something more elusive than a drunk. She suddenly remembered Luna’s
tearstained face…Marek’s gentle nature. “Terry’s staying over.”

Terry emerged from the bathroom.

Diana hopped off the desk and moved to the side so Terry
could get to her chair.

“You know how Terry likes to strut around in her underwear,
so beep before coming in if you come home early.” When Terry opened her mouth
to deny the lie, Diana shot her a warning glare. “I gotta go, Dad.”

“That’s a ten four. Don’t let her invite any strangers in. I
swear, someday that girl is going to invite some vampire into my home, and you
know—

“I know, Dad. They can’t come in a house unless invited.
Terry knows too.”

“Well you just remind her. If she has a new boyfriend, I
don’t want him in my house until she sees him during the day. Same goes for
you. No inviting in. They can’t come in unless—”

“I know, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Over and out, Little D.”

“I’m sleeping over?” Terry winked.

“Very funny. But if I have my way, someone will.”

“You go, girl!”

Later, when Diana arrived at the house she and her father
shared, she found a long white box propped beneath the mailbox. Lifting the
lid, she gasped. Three dozen long-stemmed, red roses lay nestled in a bounty of
baby’s breath. She slid the small card from the envelope. A smile spread across
her face.

She flipped open her cell phone and called Terry.

“Frank’s Lakeside Ca—”

“Roses, Terry. Three dozen.”

“No way. What’s the card say?”

Diana drew in a deep breath. “Are you sitting?” Without
waiting for a reply, she read, “The goddess Diana could threaten to turn me
into a stag and still I’d refuse to stop gazing upon your beauty. Here’s a rose
for each time I thought of you today. I’ll call at eight thirty.”

“That’s heavy. I’m not sure I like the goddess crap, but
shit, I’d forgive anything if a guy gave me three dozen roses.”

“Long stem, Terry.” Diana ran her fingers over the card.
“Tonight, I wear the pink thong.”

“And that cute little tank top with your Mudd low,
low
risers.” Terry’s laughter was cut off by the beep of another call. “I gotta go,
Di. Call me tomorrow with all the details.”

When the moose cuckoo clock in the dining room mooed at
nine, Diana peeked out the window, then jumped when she saw Sebastian climbing
the steps of her porch. He cradled a long white box, exactly like the one sent
earlier, under one arm as he tried to balance a pile of DVDs with his other
hand. Wearing denims and a pristine white button-down shirt, he looked even
sexier than she remembered.

The doorbell pealed. She pressed her hand against her chest
and glanced down at the low rise jeans and white, cropped tank top she’d
decided to wear. She regretted not choosing something newer or more feminine
for their first date. She’d opted to stay in for a casual night of pizza and
TV, but now, taking in the drab living room and meager furnishings and smelling
the ever-present scent of garlic, she wished she’d taken him up on dinner at
the Lakeside Inn.

Her heart pounded and the wretched butterflies battered her
ribs. To make matters worse, the odd twitch in her neck returned with a
vengeance.

The greeting Sebastian had practiced all the way to Diana’s
house fled from his mind the moment the door opened. He heard her silent plea
that he not find her less desirable than the previous night and not regret his
decision to waste another with her.

Less desirable?

If anything she looked too good for night three of the
bonding ritual. This night tested a couple’s determination to bond. Those
bonding were only allowed to exchange teasingly scant amounts of blood to carry
them over to night four. And as far as sex, sinking himself into Diana was not
an option. Normally, the couple helped each other maintain control. Tonight’s
success rested entirely on his shoulders. Judging by the way his body sprang to
attention at the sight of Diana, he had a long night ahead of him.

Her jeans hugged her hips so low that he expected to see
some evidence of the soft curls he had run his fingers through on the first
night of their bonding. Her bellybutton quivered when his gaze rose to it. He
tore his eyes away and continued up over the slight ripple of each rib. Her
tank top, cut off right below her breasts, had a neckline so low it revealed
the lace edging of her bra.

Watching the swells of her breasts rise and fall gave him an
instant erection. His fangs throbbed, his mouth went dry and his knowledge of
the English language or any other he’d encountered in the past eighty years dwindled
to a simple “Hi.”

He shoved the box of roses toward her. He’d planned on
dazzling her with a short romantic monolog, but watched mutely as she clutched
the box to her chest, pushing the swells of her breasts even higher. Her heart
pounded in his ears. His heartbeat picked up speed and surpassed hers. Gritting
his teeth, he brought his heart and body under control.

When he raised his eyes to her face, he shifted and croaked,
“Your hair.”

Diana frowned, brought her hand up to her head and shyly
grinned. “Oh, yeah, I had it blown straight at my friend Cindy’s shop.”

“Oh.” He cringed at his loss of words.

Reaching out, he weaved his fingers through the long silky
tress draped over her shoulder. When his knuckles thumped over her erect
nipple, she drew in a sharp breath and nearly dropped the box of roses. On the
night he’d taken her virginity, he’d compelled her to trust him and give in to
her desire at his touch. Oh, she desired him. The air surrounding her body
shimmered from her rising temperature and her scent revealed that her body had
already begun to prepare for his invasion.

He wished he could free her mind and discover how she’d
react without his influence, but he couldn’t take a chance that her
insecurities and fears might hinder the progression of the final nights of the
bonding ritual.

“Well it’s hard to tame all those curls. They tend to get a
little wild.” Diana raised a trembling hand to her hair.

“I like wild.” He cleared his throat as he drew the fingers
of both his hands through her hair until they slid free and grazed her
buttocks. “My fingers glide right to the end.”

“And that’s bad,” she asked in a husky voice.

When he didn’t answer immediately, her smile faltered.

“Bad?” He looked into her eyes, lost himself in their depths
for a moment, then shrugged and grinned. “I like it when they get trapped in
all those curls.”

“Oh.” Diana blinked. “So you prefer my curls?”

“Prefer? I guess so, but—”

Sebastian jumped back as the door slammed shut in his face.
“Diana! I didn’t mean you don’t look just as beautiful with it straight.
Diana?”

He stared at the door, expecting it to swing open, expecting
her to laugh and tell him she’d only been kidding. But the door remained
closed. He knocked, rang the bell, then knocked again and still she ignored him.
Finally, he banged his forehead on the door and almost fell through when the
door swung open. Diana reappeared with her hair dripping wet.

“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, you like it when your fingers
get trapped in my curls.” She planted her hands on her hips and grinned.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, feeling like an
awkward teen on his first date.

Water dripped onto the front of her shirt, creating little
windows that revealed the lace design of her bra and dark round nipples beneath
it. The longer strands of hair that rested on her skin below the edge of her
tank sent rivulets of water down her flat stomach and into the band of her
jeans.

“You’re getting all wet.” His voice cracked. His damn voice
cracked.

“So I am,” she said. Her eyes twinkled. “Coming in?”

Her choice of words, her wet shirt and the sudden rise of
her nipples immobilized him. All the powers he possessed couldn’t stop his body
from turning to granite. Needing more time to regain control, he smiled into
her eyes and said, “You haven’t invited me yet.”

Diana blinked, then frowned. “Do I have to?”
Please say
no. Please, please, say no.

Her silent plea accomplished what his powers could not. The
erection he’d imagined bursting through his zipper died a sudden death. He
gently touched her mind, heard her run through her father’s warnings about
inviting anyone she’d only seen at night into their home. The ridiculous notion
that vampires couldn’t enter a house unless invited never ceased to amaze him.

He stepped back. Could she already know what he was? Did her
father? “A gentleman never enters a lady’s home without a proper invitation.”

“Maybe I don’t want someone who only enters after a proper
invitation.” She stared intently into his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want a
gentleman.”

Sebastian felt his erection spring back to life. He stepped
over the threshold and leered down at her. “I can be anything you desire.”

Diana’s face lit up as he took another step in. She turned
and, swaying her hips provocatively, led him into the kitchen. “I’m making a
salad. The pizza’s already here.”

Watching those hips, heeding their call, he was surprised to
discover he’d crossed the entire living room and entered the kitchen without
moving his feet. He could only imagine how Diana would have reacted if she
turned around and seen his feet floating above the floor.

Once again in control, he leaned against the chipped white
Formica counter beside the sink and watched her rinse the lettuce. When she
moved closer and began to rotate the handle on the salad spinner, her hips
slightly bucked into the counter again and again, faster and faster. Forcing
down the need to grab those hips and turn them toward the painful erection
straining against his jeans, he grabbed one of the tomatoes on the windowsill
over the sink, rinsed it, then cut it into small perfect wedges. “You have any
onions?”

“No, but I have mushrooms.”

“Even better.”

She opened the refrigerator. The cool air met her wet shirt
and bra. Sebastian was amazed by his connection to her. He felt the chill go
through her as she bent over and grabbed the package of mushrooms and when she
turned around and she found Sebastian standing directly behind her, he felt the
sudden leap in her arousal.

Their gazes met, held.

The sound of a cow mooing broke the spell. “You own a cow?”

Diana frowned. “A cow? Oh, no, that’s the moose in our
cuckoo clock.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask.”

Taking the package of mushrooms from her hand, he tossed it
onto the counter, then grabbed her hips. His thumbs slid under the waistband of
her jeans as he glanced down at the peaks pushing against her nearly
transparent tank top. “Do you have any idea what that wet shirt is doing to
me?”

Hooking her fingers into the loops of his jeans she beamed.
“I was hoping you’d like it. Damn!” She winced, then scratched furiously at her
neck.

Sebastian understood how she felt. His own vein pulsed in
anticipation of her teeth sinking into his neck each time they touched, each
time he merely thought about touching her. “What’s wrong? The twitch bothering
you again?” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over the throbbing vein.
“Where, here,” he murmured against her neck. “You scratched yourself.” One fang
slid into the tiny scratch and opened it enough to release her blood.

Diana winced. “I did?” She glanced down at her short nails.

Gently drawing her flesh into his mouth, Sebastian nearly
moaned out loud as her sweet taste flowed over his tongue and down his throat.

The room tilted. He gingerly sucked on her neck, soothing
the twitch until the thumping under his lips all but vanished. He merged their
minds and felt Diana focus on the flutter of pleasure that took its place, that
slid over her breasts and down her stomach.

She tilted her head to one side.
Oh yes.

Sebastian stilled. Would he ever grow used to her voice
flowing into his mind? When her fingers sank into the front of his jeans and
she pulled his hips closer to hers, his cock jumped, straining to rise up and
touch the tips of her fingers.

Grinding his teeth, he regained control and took his time
licking the cut. When he was sure that no more blood would escape, he
reluctantly pulled away. He raised his head and turned away. Licking her blood
from his lips, he grabbed the mushrooms. “I’ll rinse these.”

What the hell just happened?
Diana’s dazed voice
slipped into his mind as she crossed the kitchen to stand beside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her empty an entire
box of croutons into the salad bowl. Leaning over, he murmured in her ear,
“Yup, I do know how to kiss neck.” He lifted a crouton from the mound covering
the lettuce and popped it into his mouth.

Diana bumped him with her hip. “I wouldn’t be so smug, wise
guy. You’re tossing the mushrooms caps in the garbage and the stem bottoms in
the salad.”

* * * * *

Later, sitting on the deck overlooking the small pond in her
yard, Diana watched Sebastian sink his teeth into his fourth slice of pizza.
She couldn’t stop herself from inwardly tacking his hunger onto the list of
reasons why he couldn’t possibly be a vampire. Ordering the pizza with extra,
extra garlic had done nothing but given her a good dose of guilt and a sore
throat. He’d obviously needed no invitation into her home; although, if she
wanted to be a stickler, she’d invited him the moment she opened the door.