His Dark Embrace

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Next time turn the lights off behind you,” he suggested, and her humiliation was complete.

“I’ll just go crawl in a hole now,” she said, her gaze sliding away from his.

“Don’t go,” Thorne said, chuckling. “I’m about through here anyway. Instead of coffee, why don’t you come in for a glass of wine?”

“Sounds wonderful,” she said, thinking that her eager acceptance was just one more sign of how badly smitten she was with Kaiden.

While he parked the mower alongside the garage, she poured the coffee into the gutter, then followed Kaiden into the house and took a seat on the sofa while he filled two glasses with wine. It was becoming a habit, she thought, sharing a glass of port with Kaiden, a habit she thoroughly enjoyed.

Sky placed her empty cup on the end table, smiled when Kaiden handed her a glass, then joined her on the sofa. She glanced at him, then looked away. Something was different about him. She studied him surreptitiously for a few moments, and then frowned. He looked as handsome and virile as always, and yet, more so. His hair looked thicker, blacker, his voice seemed deeper, more resonant. How was that possible?

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” she said quickly, hating the quaver in her voice. “Why should anything be wrong?”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.

Unable to think of anything to say, Sky sipped her wine, wondering why she suddenly felt on edge, like a rabbit who had stumbled into a lion’s den.

Thorne leaned back against the sofa, his mind brushing hers. It took only a moment to realize what was bothering her. His preternatural powers had returned in full. Without realizing it, her subconscious had sensed the change in him, the subtle alterations in his appearance, the inherent glamour that was part of being a vampire. She was also wondering why he had started mowing the yard after dark again. In the summer, he could have used the heat as an excuse, but it was late fall now and the days and nights were cool.

“More wine?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” Sky worried her lower lip with her teeth as he refilled her glass. Maybe she was imagining things.

Thorne resumed his seat. Her nearness tempted him, her blood sang to him. The fact that she had once had a crush on him was flattering. Knowing that she wanted him now was more exhilarating than the wine.

“Skylynn.”

When she looked up at him, he caught and held her gaze with his. Taking the glass from her hand, he set it on the end table beside his own.

Holding out his hand, he murmured, “Come to me, Sky.”

She scooted closer to him without question, her gaze slightly unfocused.

He kissed her, his lips gentle on hers, and then kissed her again. The taste of the wine that lingered on her sweet lips was a potent combination. He stroked her back with one hand while the other slid up into her hair.

“Ah, Sky, what am I to do with you?”

Trapped in the web of his gaze, she remained pliant in his embrace. At his command, she closed her eyes and slept.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the pulse beating slow and steady in the hollow of her throat and then, unable to resist, he ran his tongue along the side of her neck, just below her ear.

Filled with soul-deep regret for what he was about to do, he murmured, “Forgive me,” and then he took that which he so desperately craved.

Sweet. Warm. Ambrosia for a starving man.

It required every ounce of willpower he possessed to draw back. He brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek, wondering if he dared risk taking one more taste.

He was still debating when her eyelids fluttered open. She stared up at him, her expression confused. “What happened?”

Thorne frowned. No one had ever roused before he’d awakened them. “You fell asleep.”

“I did?” Easing out of his arms, she blinked several times. “That wine must be stronger than I thought. What time is it?”

“A little after ten.”

“I should go home.” She levered herself off the sofa, then swayed unsteadily.

Thorne rose quickly, one arm snaking around her waist to steady her.

After easing her onto the sofa again, he thrust one of the wineglasses into her hand. “Drink this.”

“Hair of the dog?” she murmured with a wry grin.

“Something like that. Just drink it.”

She took several sips, her gaze fixed on his face, her brow furrowed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I had the weirdest dream.”

“Oh?” He lifted one brow. “Care to share it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It was silly.”

“I could use a good laugh,” he muttered, sitting on the arm of the sofa.

She blinked several times, then lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I dreamed you were a vampire.”

She had expected him to laugh; instead, he looked at her sharply. “Go on.”

“It was such a strange dream.” She ran her hand along the side of her neck. “Do you remember that Halloween when I came trick-or-treating at your house after Sam told me you were a vampire? I must have been thinking about that before I fell asleep.”

He nodded. “That would explain it.”

“I guess so,” she agreed, and then frowned. “It seemed so real when you bit me. Things like that aren’t supposed to hurt in a dream.”

“And it hurt when your dream vampire bit you?”

“Not exactly.” She stared at him, a faint smile playing over her lips. “You’re beautiful, you know.” She laughed softly, her gaze sliding away from his as she set the glass aside. “I know the preferred word is handsome, but ...” She shrugged. “I had such a crush on you when I was a teenager.”

He grinned inwardly, remembering the notebook covered with red hearts.

“While my girlfriends were fantasizing about Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp, I daydreamed about making love to you.” She gazed into his eyes, deep dark eyes, while she ran her fingertips along the line of his jaw.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’re going to make love for real,” he said, his voice tight. “Right here, right now.”

“I’d like that.”

He stared at her, wondering if it was the wine making her so bold. He could think of a hundred reasons why making love to Skylynn would be a bad idea, but none of them seemed to matter, not when she was so close, so willing. He had waited such a long time for this moment.