No doubt she should be bothered by the thought.
It seemed like it should be important.
At the moment, however, she was floating on a wave of bliss as she sprawled in a bed of wildflowers, held tightly in Uriel’s arms.
A smile curved her lips.
As a lover Uriel was spectacular.
He could be raw, and fiercely driven in his passion. Or he could be slow, and gentle, and so breathtakingly patient that she had begged, pleaded, and at last, threatened until he gave her release.
As a man. .
Her smile twisted.
She was beginning to accept he was equally spectacular.
Shifting at his side, she tilted back her head to study the vampire next to her.
Her heart lurched at his sheer beauty.
The elegant sweep of his brow and proud curve of his nose. The high cheekbones and sensuously carved lips. The dark, soulful eyes that held a wary pain that spoke of the years he’d been forced to remain isolated, even when he was surrounded by his clan.
He didn’t need to tell her that he was as protective of his brothers as he was of her. He would always keep those he cared about at a distance, always fearful he might be compelled to harm them.
In many ways he’d suffered as much as she had over the past two centuries.
Perhaps that’s why they felt so intensely drawn together.
Well, that and the brilliant, mind-blowing sex, she wryly added.
“I think I truly must have gone to heaven,” she murmured, her hand lifting to drift over his exquisite face. “Complete with my own beautiful angel.” He summoned a pretend scowl at her soft words. “Bloody hell, not you too.” “Excuse me?”
“There’s nothing angelic about me.”
She slowly smiled, remembering a few of his more inventive moves.
“That’s true.” She ran her hand over the smooth skin of his stomach, relishing the ripple of muscles beneath her fingers. Mmmm, pure male perfection. “I can testify that you’re wicked through and through.” A smug glint entered his eyes. “Thank you.” “I assume your resemblance to an angel is a touchy subject with you?” “I’m a warrior.”
“And warriors can’t be pretty?”
His hand lifted to tangle in her curls, his smile revealing his massive fangs.
“Careful, Kata, you tease me at your peril.” Her heart forgot to beat as she became lost in the velvet darkness of his eyes.
“Tell me about your life.”
His brows lifted at her abrupt question. “Do you want to hear of my heroic feats or my astonishing skill with the females?” She rolled her eyes. Like she didn’t know firsthand that he was a lethal predator and an even more lethal lover.
“I want to hear about you. The real you.” He stilled, as if no one had ever been interested in anything beyond his more obvious skills.
“I am second in command to Victor, the clan chief of Great Britain,” he said.
She smiled at the hint of pride he couldn’t hide. And why shouldn’t he be proud? Before her captivity, Kata had taken pleasure in the fact she and Marika were considered the finest healers in all of Europe.
“A big shot, eh? No wonder you’re so arrogant.” “Authoritative,” he corrected her.
“Bossy.”
“Only when necessary.”
“Which is always,” she wryly pointed out. “What else?” He shrugged. “There is nothing else.”
“I don’t believe you.” She reached to stroke her fingers down the chiseled line of his jaw. “You can’t spend all your time killing things.” “No. I teach the younger vampires how to kill things.” She heaved a sigh. “You don’t have any hobbies? No secret dreams?” His expression became guarded, his years of keeping others at a distance painfully obvious.
“What about you?” he said as he smoothly deflected her probing. “What are your secret dreams?” “To be a mother to Laylah,” she confessed without hesitation. “Although I suppose it’s two centuries too late to claim such a role. I’m not sure she’ll ever understand why I had to leave her.” “You had no choice.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll be prepared to forgive me.” “She’ll forgive you.”
She met his steady gaze, desperately needing to believe him.
When she’d handed her baby over to the witch who had promised to keep her hidden, Kata had felt as if someone was ripping out her heart.
Only the absolute belief that it was the only way to keep Laylah safe had given her the courage.
Still, the fear that Laylah would never understand why she’d made the choice to give away her baby had gnawed at her for endless years.
“How can you be so certain?”
His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “Because when she traveled to London she risked everything to come in search of you.” A tentative hope warmed Kata’s heart. “Did she?” “Nothing could stop her.” Uriel smiled wryly. “And, of course, she refused to leave London until Victor had sworn he would stop at nothing to rescue you.” She smiled, shifting to brush her lips across his mouth as she savored his words of comfort, allowing them to heal a portion of her heavy guilt.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
A peaceful silence settled between them before Uriel lifted himself on his elbow to study her with a brooding gaze.
“Music,” he said abruptly.
She blinked. Okay. That seemed a little random.
“What?”
“I love music and when I have the opportunity to travel to my private lair in Wales I spend my time learning to play a new instrument.” He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. “I have nearly mastered them all.” Kata hid a smile, oddly charmed by the embarrassment that he couldn’t entirely disguise.
“Why was that so difficult to share?”
“Because my brothers would be merciless,” he muttered. “Victor would no doubt insist I walk around strumming a damned harp.” Her laughter filled the glade at the image of Uriel with a harp in his hands. His resemblance to a celestial being would be unmistakable.
“Hmmm. I see your point,” she admitted.
“Of course, if you were to join me in my lair I would be happy to. .” He bit off his words as an unmistakable chill pierced the air.
“Uriel,” Kata breathed, scrambling to her feet to tug on her forgotten gown.
“I sense it.” He was swiftly at her side, pulling on his jeans and T-shirt before snatching up the long, extremely sharp sword. “Vampire.” There was another burst of cold, and Kata hissed in horrified disbelief.
No, it couldn’t be.
Not even her shitty luck could be this bad.
But even as she tried to convince herself it had to be some ghastly mistake, the familiar sense of doom settled in her heart.
“Marika.”
“Impossible.”
She clenched her hands, a combination of hatred and fear blasting through her.
“It’s not a stench I would forget,” she hissed. “Not ever.” Uriel muttered beneath his breath, his gaze surveying their surroundings with the intensity of a trained warrior.
“Then she must be part of the illusion.” Kata shivered with disgust. “No, not an illusion. A nightmare.” “Kata.” The sound of her sister’s taunting voice drifted through the air.
Uriel leaned down to steal a brief kiss, his face a tight mask of determination.
“Keep her distracted.”
