Midnight Awakening (Midnight Breed 3)

Don't bother. Elise crawled off the bed. It's your room. I'll go. She hastily gathered up her clothes, yanking on her blouse and pulling the navy jacket over the top of it, buttoning it with sure, steady fingers. She grabbed her pants and stepped into them, fastening them as she headed for the door. This was a mistake. Another one, where you're concerned. You win, Tegan. I'm finally giving up.

She ran out, and he forced himself to let her go.

Chapter Twenty-two

Elise closed the door of her guest room behind her and sagged against the carved oak panel.

She felt like an utter fool.

Bad enough she'd thrown herself at Tegan like some kind of wanton idiot, but she had to top it off by offering her blood to him. Blood that he rejected.

Of course, it didn't surprise her that he had refused. To drink from her would irrevocably complete their blasphemy of a blood bond, a fact that Elise had been willing to accept in those heated moments of passion in his bed. At least Tegan had the good sense--the levelheaded self-control--to avoid that kind of disaster.

His obvious horror at the idea of bonding himself to her, even without any of the vows that true mated couples shared, had come to Elise as no surprise at all.

But God, it hurt.

Especially when her veins were alive with the powerful roar of his blood within her, and her body was still thrumming and boneless from the intensity of his lovemaking.

She was a na?ve fool, because some hopeful part of her had actually thought they shared something more than just an unwanted, yet undeniable, physical attraction. When Tegan touched her tonight--when he kissed her so hungrily, then scored his own wrist to let her drink from him--she really believed that she meant something more to him than mere conquest. She had thought he might truly care for her.

Worse than that, she'd hoped he did.

After five years of being alone, thinking she could never feel anything for another male, she had finally allowed her heart to open.

To a warrior, she thought grimly. There was no small amount of irony in the idea that she would let herself fall for one of the dark, dangerous members of the Order--especially after being taught all her life that they were heartless savages, never to be trusted.

And for her to care anything for Tegan, likely the coldest of them all...

Well, that went beyond foolish.

She'd been asking for this kind of hurt from that very first night all those months ago, when she let him drive her home from the compound. Tonight he'd done her a favor--spared her from making an enormous mistake she could never call back.

She should be grateful for that small mercy, particularly in a man who claimed to possess none at all.

Tegan was a heartbreak she didn't need.

Yet as she crossed the room to the adjoining bath and turned on the water in the shower, she couldn't help reliving the moments she had spent with him in his bed. She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the warm spray, feeling his hands on her, their bodies melded together, burning with pleasure.

She ached for him, even now. Would be drawn to him always, the pull of his blood within her binding her to him with unseen chains.

But as much as she wanted to blame her feelings for Tegan on the unfortunate fact that she'd drunk from him--twice now--she knew that the problem went even deeper than that.

Yes, God help her. It was far, far worse than that.

She was falling in love with him.

Perhaps she already had.

Tegan spent a good long time under a punishing ice-cold shower, and still his body was inflamed with thoughts of Elise. His skin was tight all over, dermaglyphs pulsing under the chilly pummel of the water. He braced his fists on the marbled tile wall in front of him, struggling against the urge that compelled him to stalk Elise into her guest room and finish what they'd started.

Christ, did he ever want to finish it.

His vision was still sharp from the dual hungers that both centered on one woman alone, his fangs throbbing, the long points not yet receded. He dropped his head with a deep, ragged sigh. This need for Elise was only getting worse, becoming a fever in his veins.

How long before his control snapped its flimsy tether and he sealed their sham of a blood bond? And if he allowed himself to have a taste of something as sweet as Elise, how could he be sure his thirst wouldn't rise up to rule him again?

It was that much harder to resist, knowing that Elise would so willingly offer herself to him, even without the promises of love and devotion that any male would be privileged to give her. She had been ready to let him take so much for so little in return. It humbled him. It shamed him, because he had been so damn close to taking her pretty wrist in his teeth...