Darcy abruptly turned to pace toward the large bay window. She wasn't about to let him see just how much his concern meant to her.
Not when she didn't know if his concern truly was for her and not his damnable vampires.
"As you can see I'm fine."
"It was still a reckless stunt. You should have known better."
Well that effectively squashed the small warmth that had begun to bloom in her heart.
She spun around to resume her glaring.
"And what about that stunt you pulled on me, huh? I wouldn't have needed to sneak away if you hadn't tried to brainwash me, you ... you creep."
The bronzed features tightened. In anyone but Styx she might have taken his expression as one of guilt.
This vampire, however, was far too arrogant to ever believe he could have been mistaken.
"I did it for your own good," he predictably countered.
Darcy rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me a break. You did it because you couldn't control me and that would never do for the oh-so-powerful leader of all vampires."
His thin nose flared at her attack. "I was afraid that your desire for a family would overcome your good sense. And I was proven right." In the dim glow of the lamp, he looked every inch the ancient king. An ancient king with fangs and enough power to make the curtains stir behind her. "You couldn't wait to rush headlong into danger."
Darcy lifted her chin. She wasn't about to be intimidated.
Stupid, of course.
Anyone with even the tiniest amount of intelligence would be intimidated.
"I didn't leave just because I wanted to learn the truth of my family." She pointed her finger toward him. "I left because you betrayed me."
"I—" He abruptly cut off his words, his power once again whipping through the room. Despite her best intentions, Darcy found herself taking a sharp step backward. Okay, maybe she was a little intimidated. About to take another step, she was halted when Styx gave a stiff nod of his head. "You're right."
She blinked. "I am?"
"Yes." His hands clenched at his sides as he regarded her with his dark, hypnotic gaze. "I wanted you to stay, and I was willing to go to any length to keep you with me."
Darcy suddenly found herself struggling to breathe. "Because you need me to negotiate with the werewolves?"
"No."
"Because you're afraid I might be a danger to your vampires?"
"No."
"Because . . ." She gave a small squeak as Styx was suddenly standing directly before her, his arms wrapping about her to haul her firmly against his chest.
She hadn't even seen him move.
"Because of this," he whispered before his lips closed over hers.
Darcy grasped his arms as her knees went weak. Drat it. How was she supposed to be furious with him when he was kissing her as if he would perish without her?
Over and over he plundered her lips before moving to trace a string of frantic caresses over her face. Darcy gave a soft moan as searing pleasure raced through her body. There was magic in his touch that was irresistible. At last pulling reluctantly back, he regarded her with a stark vulnerability that nearly broke her heart.
"Darcy, don't ever run from me. I can't bear the thought that I might never hold you in my arms again."
His head lowered as if he would once again befuddle her with his kisses, but with a strength she didn't even know she possessed, Darcy pressed her hands to his chest.
"Styx, wait," she commanded, not at all surprised when he instantly stilled to regard her with a watchful expression. For all his arrogance, Styx had never used his considerable strength to force her to his will. Just his freaking mind tricks, she reminded herself. Her spine stiffened, and she managed to narrow her gaze with a stern warning. "I want it very clear that I won't be manipulated. I'm not a mindless doll that you can command whenever you feel the urge."
His hand gently cupped her cheek. "I don't want a mindless doll, angel, but it is very difficult for me." A wry grimace rippled over his beautiful face. "I've been accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed without question."
Well, duh.
She would have to be a complete idiot not to know he was used to others scrabbling to bow to his every whim.
Still, it was difficult to believe that there weren't a few-people who didn't treat him as a demigod.
"Surely you can't order everyone about?" she demanded.
"Usually, yes."
She gave a short laugh. "You must have chosen very pathetic girlfriends if they always allow you to have your own way."
"Girlfriends?" A frown touched his brow. "A vampire only mates once, and it is for an eternity."
Her heart gave a painful stutter.
What would it be like to be this vampire's mate?
To have his eternal devotion? His everlasting touch?
She abruptly thrust the dangerous thoughts away.
Dang it, Darcy, you're supposed to be dragging his arrogant butt over the coals, not whining over things that can never be.
Forbidding her fingers to run over the hard muscles of his arms, she sucked in a deep breath and then promptly wished she hadn't.
Cripes, but he smelled good.
Clean and male and exotically vampire.
"Surely you must have dated before?"
He had no rules for his own fingers as they drifted over her cheek and then over the unsteady line of her mouth.
"Not in the sense that you mean. I have occasionally taken lovers, but they were merely casual distractions. Vampires rarely form relationships."
She shivered at his gentle touch. "That must be lonely."
"We are solitary creatures. We do not possess a human's need for attachment."
"So I am a casual distraction?"
He briefly closed his eyes, as if he was battling some sharp surge of emotion.
"By the gods, there is nothing casual about the way you distract me, angel," he answered as he stabbed her with a near angry glare. "You have bewitched and befuddled and bedeviled me to the point of madness. I have not had a moment's peace since 1 saw you standing in that bar."
"Hardly surprising," she muttered. "I would think kidnapping a woman would bother any vampire.'
He sent her a puzzled frown. "Actually vampires quite often kidnap mortal women. I have never done so, but for many of my brethren, it is a game that they enjoy."
Darcy wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Okay, that's not only creepy, but more information than I really wanted."
He gave an impatient shake of his head. "Kidnapping is not why I find you distracting."
"Then why?"
"Because you ..."
She gave a lift of her brows as his words came to a halt. "I what?"
He was silent for so long that Darcy began to fear he was going to refuse to answer. Then with obvious reluctance, he forced himself to complete his confession.
"You make me feel."
"I make you feel what?"
"Everything."
She blinked in confusion. "I'm afraid that's a little broad, Styx."
He gave a low hiss, his fingers tightening on her cheek. "You make me happy, and furious, and passionate, and terrified. I am not accustomed to such sensations."
Good, she thought with a selfish flare of satisfaction. It would be stunningly unfair if she were the only one suffering.
"And?" she prompted.
"I do not entirely like them," he said through gritted teeth. "They are troubling."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly Styx had spent a very long time either ignoring his feelings or simply managing not to have any.
A nice trick if it was possible.
"Styx, emotions aren't something you like or dislike," she said softly. "They just are."
"So I am discovering," he murmured, his eyes slowly darkening as his gaze drifted over her upturned face. "I'm also discovering that there are some emotions that I prefer far more than others."
Darcy's mouth was dry as her heart gave a sharp jerk. Oh lord, she knew precisely what emotions he meant. The ones that were already tightening her lower stomach and making her ache with the need to have him deep within her.
She made a soft sound. Something between a moan and a sigh. She wasn't really sure what it meant, but whatever it was, it was enough encouragement for Styx.
His hand shifted to cradle her head as he brushed his lips lightly over her mouth.
It was a mere butterfly of a touch, but it managed to send a lightning bolt of excitement through her. Oh ... lord. He was a walking, talking sexual temptation, and she was all too susceptible.
Her fingers dug into the corded muscles of his arms even as her body instinctively arched closer. She needed to feel his cool strength pressing against her, to fit her curves so tightly against him that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
It was a need that went way beyond mere sex, she realized with a faint flutter of panic. Even when she was running from Styx, she knew that a part of her, an essential, gut-deep part of her, would always belong to him.
