He cleared his throat. 'If you intend coming to breakfast dressed like that all the time, I'll definitely have to keep you around.'
'Play your cards right, and I just might stay.' She grinned and sat down next to him. 'What do you want to talk about?'
His gaze ran over her, stirring heat where it touched. Her nipples hardened, aching for his caress.
Whatever he wanted to talk about, he'd better make it quick, because she fully intended to do for him what he'd done for her last night—and she didn't think she had the strength to hold off touching him for much longer.
She picked up her coffee and sipped it. It felt cold when compared to the heat already burning through her body. She glanced sideways at him, a teasing smile on her lips. 'You did say you wanted to talk, didn't you?'
He cleared his throat again. 'Well, yes. Why don't you go put a robe on so I'm not so distracted?'
'Can't do that, because I'm enjoying distracting you. So say what you have to say.' She already knew what it was, could tell by the cautious feel to the link. He was going to tell her to leave.
Only what he said first wasn't exactly what she'd expected.
'Elizabeth was outside our room last night. Watching us. Waiting for me to leave you alone.'
Fear stirred her stomach. She took another sip of coffee. 'Why?'
'To understand that, you must know a little about Elizabeth herself.'
The last thing she wanted right now was a discussion about his ex. Talk about a mood killer. 'I understand that she's a nut who likes little boys. What more do I need to know?' How old was Michael when she'd turned him? He hadn't been as young as Matthew, that much was for certain.
'I was twenty-seven, Nikki. An old man in my time.'
She hesitated. 'Married? Kids?'
He shook his head. 'Neither. I worked my family's farm.'
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. 'Why?' From the little she knew of the sixteenth century, people married early and died young. It was rare for a man to be single at sixteen, let alone twenty.
Twenty-seven was old-age material.
He smiled and trailed his fingers down her cheek, gently outlining her lips. 'I never met anyone I truly loved and wanted to raise children with.'
'So Elizabeth's hunger for virgins is what drove her to you?' She opened her mouth, gently sucking on his fingers.
Embers flared, breathing heat through the link.
'Yes,' he said softly. 'And I, mistaking lust for love, followed her into darkness.'
'Can't be sad about that,' she said. 'Because that's what brought you here to me.'
'True.' He reached across to the tray and grabbed a croissant. Tearing it into pieces, he began feeding her. 'And you, my love, are what I hungered to find all those years ago.'
She sighed softly. He could say words like that forever, because she would certainly never tire of hearing them. Each time he fed her a piece of croissant, she ran her tongue across his fingertips or gently sucked them. The embers became a fire, and the heat burned them both. God, she wanted to touch him so badly she ached. But not yet. And even when she did, she would tease him as he had teased her last night.
'That doesn't explain why she was watching us,' she said, once she'd eaten the final piece of croissant.
'Neither of us are exactly virgins anymore.'
'No.' He paused, reaching for an apple and a knife. 'What Elizabeth likes more than virgins is domination. She likes total control.'
He peeled the apple and fed her a sliver. She sucked it slowly into her mouth, her gaze on his. Saw him swallow. Hard.
'What has domination got to do with you or—' She hesitated, fear washing through her. 'She can't still dominate you, can she?'
God, wouldn't that be the mother of all ironies? To finally have Michael admit he needed her in his life, only to have it snatched away by the bitch who'd turned him.
She shoved the thought from her mind. Michael didn't seem too worried about that prospect, so neither should she.
He continued feeding her the apple. 'Elizabeth and I have always had a somewhat uneasy relationship.
She has never truly controlled me, and I think in many ways, she enjoyed the challenge I presented. I think that's probably why I survived my years under her care. I was a battlefield not yet won.'
'Overconfidence goes before a fall, you know.'
He smiled. 'Yes. But as you are in life, so you are in unlife . I wasn't like most of her other fledglings. I was a quiet farmer, relatively content with my lot. Most of her other fledglings ran with danger in life and, therefore, enjoyed the harvest of death that turning provided. I did not, and that was something she could never change.'
But she'd tried, if the edge in his voice was anything to go by. 'What have her domination fantasies got to do with you and me?'
'It's nothing personal. Whenever a fledgling she had not yet grown tired of found pleasure in another woman's arms, she caught, tortured and killed that woman—and forced that fledgling to watch.'
'A true charmer,' Nikki murmured, chilled. 'I gather then that she intends to try doing this with me.'
'I'm still a challenge to her.' He placed the knife and apple on the table and cupped a hand against her cheek, pressing warmth into her cheekbones. 'But I promise you, she will never get near enough to hurt you.'
She believed him. He'd made a similar promise with Jasper and had almost died keeping it. But she also knew part of that promise involved getting her to leave the resort—something she had no intention of doing.
Time for some extra distraction, perhaps. 'Lift your hips.'
He raised an eyebrow but did as she requested. She glanced down at his jeans and narrowed her gaze, concentrating. Power slid around her, around him. His zipper came down, and then she tugged his jeans from his body. She kinetically tossed them back toward the bed.
'I am trying to have a serious discussion here.'
'Oh, I know.' She straddled his lap. The hard length of him, still contained by the silk of his shorts, pressed against her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lightly kissed his lips. 'By all means, do continue.'
This close, she could hear the thunder of his heart, a rhythm that matched her own. She began to rock her hips back and forth, gently rubbing him. He jerked, then groaned.
'Even the Man of Steel would have trouble concentrating right now.'
He touched her breasts, teasing her already aching nipples. She bit her lip then caught both his hands, placing them behind him.
'No touching. But do continue.'
He swallowed heavily. 'Now that Elizabeth knows what you mean to me, she will bide her time and attack when we least expect it. We cannot risk that, not with Cordell so close.'
She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest. Slowly, she ran her tongue up his neck and nibbled his ear. 'It's going to take two of us to defeat Cordell, and you know it.'
'Maybe.' His breath was hot and quick against her cheek. 'But I want you out of the firing line. I want you to leave.'
She trailed tiny kisses across his cheeks. 'No,' she whispered against his lips. Then she kissed him deeply, giving him no time to respond.
They were both panting by the time she pulled away. She ached for him, ached so fiercely it was almost painful. He throbbed against her—so close, and yet so far. She continued to rock gently, teasing them both. Deep down, the quivering began.
'Oh, God, Nikki.' He took a deep, shuddering breath. 'If you stay here, she will come after you.
Cordell is the important one. He's the one we have to stop.'
She ran a hand down his stomach, then lifted her hips slightly. 'You're wrong, Michael.' She caught his boxers, pulling them out of the way and freeing him. 'It was Elizabeth who took Matthew. It was
Elizabeth who sucked his mind dry then spat him out. We have to stop them both.'
He was trembling, his whole body hot with urgency. She didn't give him what he wanted—what she wanted—but continued rocking, covering him with her slickness.
