Night's Pleasure (Children of The Night 4)

“Is she pretty?”

“More beautiful than you can imagine.”

“Oh.”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

She was, but she didn’t want to admit it.

Rane stroked her cheek. “Don’t be. She might be beautiful on the outside, but you’re more beautiful on the inside, where it counts.”

She slipped her arms around his waist. “I love you.”

“I know.”

She grinned at him, thinking they sounded just like Princess Leia and Han Solo.

Rising, she took him by the hand and tugged him to his feet.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“You’ll see.”

He let her lead him up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Now what?” he asked.

“I want to show you something.”

“Oh?” His gaze moved over her from head to foot. He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the musk on her skin. “And what might that be?”

With a smile, she slipped her sweater over her head and tossed it on a chair. “Me, of course.”

Rane sat on the foot of the bed. “Show me more.”

She kicked off her sandals, slithered out of her jeans and tossed them aside.

Rane’s gaze moved over her, his eyes hot. “More.”

The look in his eyes sent frissons of heat coursing through her. With hands that trembled, she removed her bra and stepped out of her panties. Even though they had made love before, even though he had seen her naked before, she was tempted to cover herself with her hands. After all, it was one thing to be naked together, and quite another to be naked alone.

“One more thing,” Rane said.

Savanah frowned. What else did he want her to take off? She was naked. And then she realized she was still wearing her mother’s crucifix. Reaching up, she slipped the chain over her head and dropped it on the dresser, and then she looked at Rane and said, “Now you.”

“You want me to do a striptease?” he asked with a wicked grin.

“Yes.” She tugged on his hand, then took his place at the foot of the bed when he stood.

With a wry grin, Rane removed his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt.

“More,” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Rane heeled off his shoes, removed his socks with a flourish, then unfastened his belt and drew it slowly out of the loops. After dropping his belt on top of his shirt, he removed his trousers, revealing a pair of black briefs.

“More,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. He was gorgeous, all broad shoulders and rippling muscles.

Any doubts she might have had that he wanted her vanished when he removed his briefs.

She went eagerly into his arms, a soft moan rising in her throat as their bodies melded together. He moved deep within her, pleasuring her, completing her. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the magic that was Rane.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The full moon cast long silver shadows across the countryside. Clive lifted his head, basking in the glow of the moon’s light, feeling it swell within him, growing, expanding, calling forth the wolf that lurked just under the surface. It was a glorious sensation. Usually, he enjoyed running with the pack, but not tonight. Tonight, he didn’t want to share the hunt with anyone else, didn’t want to share his kill. As the alpha male, it was his right to hunt alone.

Eager to shift, he kicked off his shoes, excitement rising within him as he caught the scent of prey on the wind.

He was unbuckling his belt when his cell phone rang. He considered letting it ring; then, with a growl of annoyance, he reached for the phone. “What?”

“Clive? It’s Roc.”

“Did you find the books?”

“No, I couldn’t get into the house. There’s some kind of protective barrier around the doors and the windows.”

Clive swore. “Is the woman still there?”

“Yeah.”

“And Cordova?”

“He’s with her. What do you want me to do?”

“Keep an eye on the house, follow them if they leave.”

“And if I get a chance to grab her?”

“Take it, but don’t kill her unless you have to. I’ll get up there as soon as I take care of a few things here.”

“Anything wrong?”

“Some pack trouble.”

Roc grunted. That usually meant one or more of the wolves needed disciplining, or worse.

“Keep in touch,” Clive said, and ended the call.

After dropping the phone inside one of his shoes, Clive removed his shirt and his trousers. He would take care of his business here, and then he’d call his lieutenant and they would pay a visit to the Gentry woman. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t willingly give him the books, but that was all right.

Clive grinned inwardly as he threw back his head and surrendered to the beast within. He was sure he could persuade her.

Chapter Twenty-Six

She was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming.

Lost and alone, she wandered through an unfamiliar landscape, searching, always searching—for her father’s killer, for her mother’s books, for a sense of peace and security. For Rane.

A dark mist surrounded her on every side. The air was thick, so thick she could scarcely breathe, barely see where she was going. A light shone in the distance, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Sunlight? Candlelight? A will-o’-the-wisp?

She slogged on through the mist, her feet moving as if through heavy quicksand. Bottles of holy water clinked together in the pocket of her jacket; she carried a sharp wooden stake in one hand, a heavy wooden mallet in the other.

She felt a prickle of unease as she moved deeper into the gray haze. Someone was following her, she was sure of it. She spun around, her gaze trying to penetrate the thick vapor, but she couldn’t see anything through the mist. Moving on, she walked faster and faster, until she was running blindly through the haze. Heart pounding, side aching, she ran on and on, her gaze fixed on the light, but it never seemed to grow any closer.

Her terror multiplied when she heard footsteps behind her, footsteps that grew ever louder, ever nearer.

And then, to her horror, she felt a hand grip her shoulder. With a cry, she flung herself around, raised the stake in her hand, and plunged it into her pursuer’s chest, only to realize, too late, that it was Rane.

She cried his name as dark red blood fountained from his chest and then, to her horror, his body turned to ash. She screamed in anguish as a gust of wind stirred the ashes until nothing remained to show that he had ever existed….