There was no hesitation in her now, no hint of maidenly modesty, no murmur of halfhearted protest. In spite of the rain and the cold, her skin was warm, heated by the desire that burned within her. She was a woman, with a woman's needs, and he fanned the embers of her desire until she was ready for him, until she cried his name, her voice thick with passion and a hunger that could no longer be denied.
And he took her, there, upon the wet grass.
Took her innocence, and her blood, and in so doing, he bound her to him for as long as either of them drew breath.
CHAPTER 14
Brenna slept late the following morning and woke with a smile in her heart. Strange, she thought. Back in her own time, she had always been an early riser. Of course, living with a vampire, one tended to keep late hours.
Turning onto her side, she looked out the window. It was still raining, but she didn't mind. She had always loved the rain. It called to something inside her, something earthy and wild and uninhibited.
She had certainly acted wild and uninhibited last night! She could scarcely believe what a wanton she had been in his arms. What must he think of her? She knew what Granny O'Connell would think! Granny would be shocked and horrified at her granddaughter's lascivious behavior.
Brenna let out a sigh. The only good thing was that there was no possibility of conceiving a child out of wedlock. The thought didn't comfort her as it should. Instead, she spent several minutes thinking how wonderful it would be to have Roshan's child— a little boy with thick black hair and deep blue eyes.
"Roshan." She whispered his name. Excitement hummed deep within her, bubbling up until it escaped in a happy sigh. Was this what it was like to be in love, this sense of wonder and discovery?
Morgana stirred at the foot of the bed. Meowing loudly, she yawned and stretched, then approached her mistress and patted Brenna's cheek with her paw.
"I know, you want to go out," Brenna said. Rising, she pulled on her bathrobe and went downstairs. Morgana kept pace at her side, meowing plaintively all the while.
Brenna opened the back door, then stood there a moment, watching the rain. Morgana sniffed the air, laid back her ears, then streaked down the steps and disappeared around the corner of the house. Brenna grinned. Morgana hated the rain as much as her mistress loved it.
Leaving the door open a crack for the cat's return, Brenna filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove. She pulled her favorite mug from the shelf, dropped a tea bag inside, then sat down to wait for the water to boil.
When the water was hot, she filled the cup, then sat there, her chin cupped in her hands, while the tea steeped.
When it was done, she added a spoonful of honey, then carried the cup into the living room. After opening the drapes, she sat on the sofa and watched the rain drizzle down the window, remembering yet again what it had been like to be in Roshan's arms last night. She had never realized that making love could be so explosive, or so satisfying, physically and emotionally, even spiritually. Roshan had tapped a well of passion she had never known she possessed, taken her to heights she had never dreamed existed. Made her hunger for his touch…
She lifted her fingertips to her lips, remembering the heat of his kisses, the way his hands had moved over her, as if he wanted to memorize every curve. Sometimes his touch had been gentle, sometimes bold. He had explored every inch of her body. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she recalled that she had done the same to him.
It had been a magical night. In spite of the cold and the rain, the grass beneath her had been warm and dry. Overhead, the thunder and the lightning had combined to play her a symphony; the lyrics had been the love words and endearments Roshan whispered in her ear. She had seen rainbows in the clouds. Truly, a magical night, she thought again, and over much too soon.
Just thinking of him and of the night past made her yearn for the sun to set quickly. Her heart beat faster just thinking of him. Liquid heat pooled in the deepest part of her. She stirred restlessly, wondering how she could endure the hours without him. Never in her life had she felt like this, aroused and anxious at the same time.
And then, like a bolt out of the blue, she realized that he must have used his preternatural powers to entrance her. It was the only explanation for the way she was feeling now, and for her wanton behavior the night before. She had been angry with him when they left the Nocturne, annoyed at the high-handed way he had forbidden her to see Anthony Loken again. And yet, less than an hour later, she had gone willingly into Roshan's arms, had shamelessly let him make love to her out in the open.
But how? How had he entranced her? And when?
She frowned. Always before, she had sensed when he tried to use his preternatural powers against her. Sensed it and blocked it. What had he done differently last night?
She sipped her tea, trying to remember everything that had happened after they left the club.
He had watched her dance in the rain. And then he had kissed her. One soul-shattering kiss, and she had stopped fighting her desire for him. One kiss, and she had surrendered her virtue without a qualm, without a thought. Blinded by needs she had resisted for too long, she had returned his kisses with a fervor she had never known she possessed.
His kisses. They were far more potent than any spell or enchantment ever devised. One kiss had burned away all thought of right or wrong.
She licked her lips and then, with a gasp, she lifted a hand to her neck. He had taken her blood. How could she have forgotten that, or the exquisite pleasure that it had given her? And she had tasted his. Quite by accident, she had thought at the time. His fangs had pricked his lower lip and she had tasted his blood in his kisses. Tasted it and yearned for more. Was that the reason Roshan was the only thing she could think of today? The reason she was so anxious for the moon to chase the sun from the sky?
Would she become what he was, now that she had tasted his blood?
Rising, she hurried up to her room. She took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of black pants, a heavy sweater, and a pair of boots. Grabbing her handbag and the keys to the Ferrari, she ran out of the house. A short time later, she was driving toward the city and the bookstore.
The rain had slowed by the time Brenna reached the city, and stopped altogether by the time she entered the bookstore.
Myra looked up from behind her desk and smiled. "Nasty weather we're having," she remarked. She made a gesture that encompassed the rest of the store. "Bad for business, too. So, what brings you out on a day like this?"
"Do you have any books on vampires?" Brenna asked, shaking raindrops from her hair.
"We carry one or two. They're over there, on the bottom shelf. You'd probably find a better selection at the library."
"Thank you." Brenna grunted softly. What had she been thinking? She didn't need a library. Roshan had hundreds of books, perhaps thousands. But would a vampire have books on vampires?
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Myra asked, coming around the desk.
"No. I… uh, saw a movie about vampires the other night and I wanted to find out more about them." She laughed self-consciously. "Not that I believe they exist or anything."
"You should talk to Anthony. He's writing a book about them."
"Really? Maybe I will. Thanks, again."
Brenna found three books on vampires, one on werewolves, and one on shape shifters, none of which were very helpful. Waving good-bye to Myra, who was again at her desk, Brenna headed for the door and came face-to-face with Anthony Loken.
"Well, hello," he said.
"Hello."
"Must be my lucky day, finding you here."
"I was just leaving."
"You can't go now," he said with a smile. "I just got here. Come on, let me buy you a cup of coffee to warm you up before you go back out in the rain."
Since she couldn't think of any plausible reason to refuse, and because she really did want another cup of that wonderful coffee, she let him guide her into the coffee shop.
They sat at the same table beside the window.
Anthony ordered two cups of Almond Amaretto, then leaned back in his chair. "So, what are you doing out on a day like this? You should be curled up in front of a fire with a good book."
" Myra says you're writing a book. About vampires."
"Did she? Well, she's right."
"Why are you writing about vampires?"
"Why not? They're fascinating creatures."
"But surely you do not believe they are real?"
"Aren't they?"
"Are they?"
"I believe they are. I believe they hold the key to something man has been searching for since Adam brought death into the world. Eternal life."
He murmured his thanks as the serving girl brought their order. "Can I get you anything else, Mr. Loken?"
"No, thank you, Darlene."
Brenna waited until the girl moved away before asking, "Even if they existed, how would you find one?"
He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. "Therein lies the problem." He leaned toward her, his gaze intent upon her face. "You don't know where I could find one, do you?"
Every instinct Brenna possessed warned her to tread carefully. "Me? How would I know? I have only just arrived here."
"Yet you were at the Nocturne last night."
"So were you." She picked up her cup and took a sip, then set it aside. Yesterday, the coffee had tasted delicious; today, it tasted flat and bitter, like betrayal.
"Just so," Loken replied. "Tell me more about the man you were with."
"He is just a friend," she replied, careful to keep her voice neutral. "I hardly know him." Her words mocked the memory of what had happened between them in the yard the night before.
"And why did he take you there?"
She shrugged. "He said it was an interesting place, filled with people pretending to be vampires. I thought it might be amusing."
He didn't believe her. She could see it in his eyes.
"And if you found a vampire," she asked, "what would you do?"
