Killer Temptation (4 page)

What about Rachel? She might be causing a scene!
“Sorry, I should really try and find my sister.”

Why did that sound like the biggest mistake of my life?

“In that case, I insist you let me help. I know this ballroom with my eyes closed. Shall we?” he said, holding out his hand.

Are you sure you’re ready for this?
A voice prodded in her head, accompanied by a visual of Percy. She ground her teeth. Percy, the jerk. No, she wasn’t ready for another relationship, but this man hadn't asked for her hand in marriage. He wanted to help. Besides, she shouldn’t compare all men to Percy. Otherwise, she’d never give anyone a chance. Without dwelling on it a moment longer, she smiled and placed her hand in his.

“So, what does your sister look like?”

“Just keep an eye out for a woman with a bottle of champagne, and you’ll know who she is.”

Mortification rode through her system, heating her cheeks. He didn’t pass judgment. Maybe he detected the embarrassment in her voice and chose not to fuel it further. He roved them around the hardwood dance floor. The slow, soft symphonic beat drifted through her as she followed him, oblivious to every other witch, werewolf and vampire around them. She should be on the lookout for her sister. A war amongst the species could break out and she wouldn’t pay any heed. All her focus remained on the man in front of her.

He squeezed her fingers, gazing over his shoulder with a charming half smile. His strong hand around hers was the smallest embrace, but felt so right, as though she just returned to the comfort of her home from a lifelong journey. She hadn’t experienced this sensation in years, since being adopted; the sweet persuasion of promise, hope, of belonging to someone, belonging to a family. Why did he make her feel this way? She bit her lip, eyes growing heavy at the memory of her parents. They had died a little over a year ago, but sometimes the piercing sting in her chest pricked with renewed freshness.

“Are you all right?” He stopped near an arched doorway, the dance floor stood ahead of them in the distance. Concern softened his eyes and the sharp sting in her chest eased. This man had the power to numb her pain. She almost smiled.

"I feel as though we know each other, like we’ve met before.”

His slow smile caused the scar on his cheek to indent further, appearing more like a dimple. “I keep thinking the same. But of course that’s impossible.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a grin “We just met.”

“And I’m sure I’ve been around much longer than you…considering you’re human.”

Her brows rose almost to her hairline. “Of course you can sense that. Just so you know, I’m here with my witch family.”

“Ah, witches, yet you don’t have power?”

“No. You see, I’m not a witch…I was adopted.” She cleared her throat and contemplated a different subject. “You said you’ve been around much longer. Exactly how old are you?”

“How old do I look?” he teased, and she was relieved he did not ask her about being adopted.

“At least thirty.”

“
Bon
, that’s how old I should look. But I am in fact three hundred years old.”

“Jeepers!” Her gaze danced over his face, searching for a wrinkle, maybe even an age spot. Vampire or not, how could he be three hundred years old and still flawless?

One brow rose at her blatant observation. “Is there something on my face?”

"Not sure yet."

He laughed, encircling her wrist and tugging her close. The scent of labdanum and jasmine filled her nose. “Let me guess yours now…I’d say you are twenty-four.”

The corner of her mouth quirked upward. “Close, twenty-five.”

“Oh, I’m good.”

“Well, what do you expect after three hundred years of practice?”

His lips brushed the sensitive skin of her wrist. “
Oui
, practice does make perfect.”

She forced herself to breathe. The deep, foreign acuteness of his tone sank beneath her skin and sent shivers down her spine. She’d never have to worry about zoning out on a conversation with this man. She could listen to him for hours.

His arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her against the warmth of his body. Her insides became molten,
fervent to be closer. She wanted to be so close, to all but sink inside him. Why did he make her feel like this? They just met.
This wasn’t normal! Was it
?

He slid a hand down her back, over her hip, clutching her thigh through the lace in her dress. Leaning close, his lips hovered above hers. The orchestra music around them grew faint, and she concentrated on the warm breath teasing her moist lips.

“Please forgive me,” he whispered. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her mouth, expression tortured. “I keep telling myself not to be so forward, but I just can’t stop myself.”

Her heart shot into her throat at the first brush of his lips against hers. The firm, persuasive, electrifying feel of his mouth was enough to make her gasp. His lips covered hers, caressing them with gentle precision. She wasn’t innocent, had been with men in the past, but this was unlike anything she ever experienced. Maybe being foreign, or a vampire, had something to do with it. Tristan’s kiss soared beyond passion, as though his mouth expressed his sensual need and desire to be with her. “I don’t want this to end,” she murmured against his lips.

He rocked back. “It doesn't have to.” His mouth found hers again, harder this time. “Would you like to go somewhere?"

Her throat dried.

Say yes, say yes!
The voice in her mind screamed. Brianna swallowed and loosened her arms, unaware she had wrapped them around his neck. Her body grew hot with frustration. She craved this man, but she also wanted to keep her dignity in place.

“I’m so sorry.” He shook his head. “My mouth is running away with me. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

"I need a drink. Give me a moment." Her legs shook in protest as she marched to the nearest bar. This was going too fast, but could she go further? Maybe she could. She placed her purse on the wooden top—ignoring the wobble in her knees—and waved to the bartender. “Water, please.”

The barmaid nodded and placed a tall glass in front of her. She shot back a large mouthful.

“Damn.” A familiar male voice sounded from behind.

Don’t spit out the water. Do not spit out the water!
She forced the icy liquid past the tightness in her throat and tried not to choke.

“Why do all my girlfriends look hot
after
I break up with them?” Percy’s voice made her cringe.

She turned with a cold smile. “Don’t you mean ex-girlfriends?”

“Hello to you too, Bri. Love the dress,” he said, pointing to the lace revealing her thigh. He looked the same. Long dark hair in a shaggy style past his ears, eyes the colour of brandy…which, ironically was the same as his scent, and a posture held so straight she couldn’t be sure if he showed off his fit physique or if a pole was stuck up his ass. “Did I buy you this?”

She gritted her teeth. “No. I bought this dress myself.” He had never bought her anything of value, as if the moron didn’t already know that.

“That’s a shame. I would’ve asked for it back because I know this babe who’d look fantastic in that dress.”

She rolled her eyes, placed her glass on the bar-top and snatched her purse. “Get a life.” She barged past the egotistical warlock.

“No, you get a life,” he repeated in a childish manner.

Turning, she made sure to force her frown into a grin. “I do have a life…with him.” She pointed to Tristan who waited against the wall, hands in his pockets.

A pink hue smeared over Percy’s cheeks, almost making her laugh. Intimidated by men bigger than him, Tristan’s broad shoulders and solid chest proved he was much stronger. She might as well thank Percy. Seeing him confirmed he was her past, and just like a fork in a road, she had to make a choice; live in regret, or take a chance and turn toward the future. Without a backward glance, she sauntered to Tristan. The focus of his gaze passed her shoulder, perhaps settling on Percy.

“Who was that?” he asked once she stopped in front of him.

“Yes,” she rushed out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want to go somewhere with you.”
Anywhere with you.

Chapter 3

As if his former question no longer mattered, he took her hand. “You’re sure,
ma
chérie
?”

Sure?
This could be foolishness or bravery. Hell, it might be both. She affirmed his question with a single nod. He squeezed her fingers, a soft smile stretching his lips. Tristan surveyed their surroundings, gaze paused at an arched entrance leading to a high staircase.

“I know just the place.” He guided her through the dim hallway and up a set of marble stairs.

Brianna glanced over her shoulder, each step distancing her from the commotion of the ballroom. The thump of his shoes climbing the steps two at a time replaced the echo of music and chatter. She took in the wide expanse of his shoulders as she struggled to keep up with his pace.

Alone with a vampire, yet no alarm bells rang off in her head. What if he attempted to drink from her? The attraction overpowering her was one thing, but being dim-witted was another. The thought of his bite, however, did not frighten her.

What’s wrong with me? Maybe I’ve had too much to drink.
They strode down a large corridor. Glossy timber walls held a display of opulent portraits in gilded silver frames; beautiful white sandy beaches, the Eiffel tower and others of the French countryside. He spun into another hallway, dimmed with soft dome lights along the ceiling. Extending his free hand when they approached the end, he took hold of the doorknob on his left. The thick wood swung open.

Darkness obscured her sight once he guided her inside. Where were they? Despite her lack of vision, excitement coursed
through her veins, igniting her skin, and melting her senses. Tristan stepped behind her... A click echoed, and a nanosecond later light filled the room.

They stood inside an expansive office with a handcrafted wooden desk, a large padded leather chair and desktop computer. Mahogany carpet covered the floor, matching the full-length curtains. A jug of water, an electric kettle, a set of glasses, and sugar sachets sat on a tall, square table in the corner. A bookshelf stood behind her and another against the wall beside the desk. They were the only ones in the room. Thank goodness.

He whirled her around and took a single step forward. On impulse she treaded back. “How did you know nobody would be in here?” Space wasn’t what he wanted. Again he stalked forward, and she back, until he had her up against the solid bookshelf. Her purse slipped and landed on the floor with a thud.

“The man who owns this building is a good friend of mine.” The fire in his eyes scorched hers.

Being alone with him did not bother her, but she should insist they talk for a while, get to know one another.
Inhale, exhale, inhale…
She was kidding herself and she knew it. He laid both palms on either side of her head and stared down with those bright green eyes. Breath puffed past her lips in shallow, rapid gasps.

“Why do I feel so strange around you?”

She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“I came here tonight wary of danger. The three species may be into their second year of reconciliation, but let’s face it, not everyone is as trustworthy as they seem.”

He spoke true. Even the witches didn’t know what to think about the whole thing. After centuries of fighting, of course some races were wary and uncertain about whom to trust.

“Then I saw you and I knew I was in trouble.”

She frowned.
What did he mean? I did not come here looking for trouble, even though that’s what I found with Caroline, and then Rachel, but still—

“You captivated me at first sight. After seeing you,
Dieu
, I knew I must find you, talk to you, and figure out why I wasn’t able to get you off my mind.”

Oh, now I see.
Heat spread over her cheeks and she struggled not to grin like an idiot.

“I was ready to search the entire ball.” One corner of his mouth quirked. “Then you knocked into me.”

“Yes, and embarrassed myself.” She rolled her eyes, hands fisting by her sides as if the action would purge the humiliation out of her system.

“
Non
,
chérie
, you did no such thing.” He tilted his head, sliding his mouth across hers. He kissed her with fierce hunger, rough and masterful, yet delicious, and erotic. Everything about it defined total perfection. The way he felt; wet and hot. The way he tasted; sweet and forbidden.

“Please,” she murmured without coherent thought.

“Yes.” He groaned between kisses. Impatient hands scanned her back, lower, massaging the curve of her bottom. He surged forward, his erection hitting her stomach.

She gulped at the feel of his impressive hardness. He grabbed her legs, hefting them off the ground to wrap around his waist. Crushing her against the bookshelf, he drove his hips into hers. The feel of his erection strained against the place she craved him most. Defences abandoned, she kissed the column of his jaw…

His pulse thrummed along her lips, breath panting above her. She frowned, bewildered by the tenderness in her gums, and the impulse to guide her teeth over his neck and sink them beneath his skin. Impossible. She wasn’t a vampire.

Soft lips led a trail from her mouth to her chin. The dim lighting in the room cast a shadow of their figures along the opposite wall, a splendid delineation to each soft moan and sigh that sang in the air. She closed her eyes, surrendering to her senses. A shudder ran through her as an anxious urge consumed her, not just the need for his body, but for his fangs to sink into her flesh.