Night's Promise (Children of The Night 6)

Once outside, the laughter she had been holding back burst out of her. “Did you see . . . his hair . . . ? It looked like a raccoon perched on top of his head.”

“How could I miss it?” Derek’s laughter joined with hers. “I just hope the honeymoon lasts longer than the ceremony. And, speaking of honeymoons, where would you like to go?”

Taking a deep, calming breath, she said, “Surprise me.”

He thought a moment, then wrapped her in his arms and whisked her to his house in Northern California.

“Where are we?” Sheree asked when the world righted itself again.

“Sacramento. This is my place.”

“Oh. I thought you lived with Mara.”

“No.”

Nodding thoughtfully, she glanced around the living room. It was large, obviously the home of a single man. The walls were white. The seating, centered around a red brick fireplace, was dark leather; the tables were distressed walnut. There were no pictures on the walls, no knickknacks or magazines on the tables. Heavy curtains covered the windows; the floors were wood.

“Want to see the rest?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Though it was a large house, there were only four rooms in addition to the front room: two good-sized bedrooms—one furnished, one not—with a full bath between, and a spacious kitchen that had no appliances and had obviously never been used.

“Have you lived here long?” she asked when they were settled on the sofa in front of the hearth.

“I had it built five years ago.”

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling. “I’m surprised you included a kitchen.”

His gaze caressed her. “Maybe I knew that someday you’d come along and need one.”

She smiled as warmth flooded her being.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his voice so soft she wasn’t sure she was meant to hear him.

She turned in his embrace, her lips seeking his as her hands delved under his shirt. He sucked in a breath at her touch, his tongue sliding across the seam of her lips, dipping inside to taste her own. It sparked an immediate response, her whole body throbbing with need, aching for more.

He lifted her onto his lap, his arms cradling her as he kissed her again and again, each one longer, deeper, more intense than the other, until the ache inside her grew almost painful.

In one fluid move, he gained his feet and carried her swiftly into the bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers as a flash of preternatural power removed her clothing and his, leaving her naked in his arms.

A wave of his hand drew back the blankets on the bed. The sheets were cool beneath her heated flesh. It was oddly erotic, his mouth hot as fire, his body cool as it covered hers.

Her hands were restless as they moved over him, exploring the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his biceps, the shallow indentation between his shoulder blades, the coolness of his skin.

He was exploring, too, arousing her with every intimate touch as he learned the contours of her body, the lush valleys, the warm peaks, the hidden places that made her cry out in ecstasy.

Sheree was lost in a world of sensual pleasure such as she had never imagined. She moaned softly, certain she might expire with need, when his body merged with hers. Somehow, she knew what he was thinking, feeling, even as he knew her thoughts and desires. She felt weightless, as if she were floating in air—every touch, every caress, leaving her breathless with the wonder of it, the joy of knowing that he was a part of her now in ways no one else had ever been, or ever would be.

He was hers, body and soul, for as long as she lived.

And in that one timeless moment when their bodies were one, when the rhythm of her heart matched his, she knew a single lifetime in his arms would never be enough.

Sheree gasped as he thrust deep inside her, carrying her beyond ecstasy, her whole being singing, throbbing, to the music of his touch. She clutched his shoulders, sighed as her body spiraled out of control, then sank slowly back to earth.

He shuddered once, then rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, their bodies still entwined.

“Are you all right?” His gaze moved over her, his expression filled with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“Stop worrying.” She smiled up at him, her fingertips stroking his cheeks, the taut muscle along his jaw. “Thank you for making my first time wonderful.”

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

“And mine.”

His hands delved into her hair as he rained kisses on her cheeks, her brow, her eyelids. “I love you,” he whispered. “You’ll never know how much.”

“No more than I love you.”

“I think I might have gone over the edge if I hadn’t had you with me these past few weeks. You don’t know . . . I can’t explain . . .” He swallowed hard, his arms tightening around her. “If you hadn’t stopped me from killing that man and his family . . .” A long, shuddering sigh wracked his body. “I couldn’t have lived with the guilt.”

Sheree clung to him as images of Derek walking out to greet the dawn flashed across her mind. Horrified by the mere idea, she knew he would have let the sun destroy him if he had killed that baby.

“Don’t think about it,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t help it. I’m afraid of what might happen next time.”

“It’ll be all right. I’ll be with you. And maybe the old ladies’ serum will work a miracle.”

A miracle, Derek mused. Sheree was the biggest miracle in his life. Would Fate be so kind as to grant him another?

Chapter Thirty-Five

Sheree woke from a wonderful dream, only to discover it hadn’t been a dream at all. Derek slept beside her, looking young and vulnerable at rest. Propped on one elbow, she slowly slid the covers down to his waist, letting her eyes drink in the beauty of her new husband.

Husband, she thought. What an amazing word.

If she touched him, would he feel it?

“Depends on where you touch.”

She smiled as she placed her hand in the center of his chest, then slid it down, down, beneath the sheet.

He hissed in a breath. “Oh, yeah, I definitely feel that.”

She laughed softly, then leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. “I need a hot shower and something to eat.”

“They have a word for women like you.”

“Really? What is it?”

He cracked one eye open. “Beautiful.”

“I love you, too. Go back to sleep.”