MIDNIGHT CONQUEST: Book 1 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (12 page)

While her mother and Amice conversed privately, Davina pushed away her growing uneasiness before she entered the tent. She couldn’t let her apprehensions destroy this exciting moment, upon her at long last. The spicy aroma of incense drifted through her senses, and her body tingled from the memories of the last time she stepped into this exotic world—memories she revisited time and time again over nine years.

She turned and faced him.

Chapter Four

After the lads and their antics left the tent, a woman stepped through the opening. A soft evening breeze blew by, bringing her scent into the space, and Broderick’s loins tightened at the familiar aroma of rose oil and her blood. He closed his eyes and inhaled deep, the smells thrusting him back into the dream he experienced upon awakening. Settling a curious but lusting gaze upon her, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to advance, listening to what thoughts he could glean across the space. Even as she stood in the shadows, Broderick saw her eyes roam over his form, examining him, hints of desire floating on her rambling thoughts. She advanced into the light of the hanging oil lamp, allowing Broderick a more colorful view of her figure.
It
is
her. Davina.
His cock twitched in response. She had stepped right out of his dream, her full lips and luscious curves promising everything he experienced in his mind.

He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, which creaked in protest to his weight. “Do you wish to have your fortune told, lass, or shall we continue to eat each other with our eyes?”

She continued to stare at him with a creased brow, silent and hesitating.

The corner of Broderick’s mouth turned up in a roguish grin, and he rose to his feet. From here, the sound of her pattering heart fluttered against his ears like butterflies.

She managed to swallow and find her voice. “Do you not remember me?” she asked.

Broderick raised an eyebrow with interest.
Aye, we rutted in our dreams, fair lady. Care to have a go at it again?
His eyes traveled down her body before he answered. “A face such as yours would be hard to forget.”

Though her cheeks mottled red and he caught whispers of embarrassment, she uprooted and sat before him.
“Does he not remember me, or is he pretending not to?”

Broderick straddled his chair and leaned forward, coming very close to her. “Lend me your hand, lass,” he whispered.

Davina obeyed, her fingers trembling and cool in his hand. She gasped and tried to pull away with a reflexive jerk, and he sensed the heat of his skin startled her.

He held tight, though, his gaze meeting her sapphire eyes. “Relax, lass.”

Relax, lass.
The phrase had a male essence and echoed out of her memories.

Broderick closed his eyes and his thumb rubbed slow circles in the center of her palm while he concentrated on divining her thoughts. He could almost see himself through her eyes as she leaned in closer to peer at his face in the dim lighting, studying his features.

Relax, lass. Your breath will return in a moment.

The masculine phrase whispered from the dark recesses of her mind, a clouded and shadowed memory that, try as she might, would take no shape. Broderick sensed her struggling to recall the memory. Then he saw through Davina’s eyes as she sat in the center of a forest clearing, her vision blurred and a dull throbbing at the back of her head. A man crouched next to her, asking about her welfare, and when she focused her attention on his face, he came into view—Angus Campbell.

Heart thundering in his chest, Broderick opened his eyes and narrowed them at her, searching her face.
Broderick is far more handsome,
she thought,
but there is no denying he does resemble Angus
.

His breath caught in his throat and he clenched, drawing his eyebrows together.
How did she know Angus and—

“What—?”

“Hush!” He searched her mind for more information.

“Sir, if you please.” Davina tried to pull away from him, but his hands held her tight.

His muscles tensed as he tried to reach deeper into her memories. Flashes of Angus’s evil grin mocked Broderick, as if to say, “Come and get me, Rick!” More of the visions of a kinder, more compassionate Angus reemerged, conflicting with the Angus he knew. Then blackness rolled in like a fog, blotting out everything. He focused on the woman in hand, her eyes saucers of fright as she quailed away from him.

Raising his eyebrows, he eased his tension, but didn’t release her. “My apologies, milady. The visions I saw…” He brought forth as much compassion as he could muster, stroking her hand, and entertained the desire to feed from her to get what he wanted. He wondered if he should take the chance, and glanced at the tent flap, hearing the many voices outside, but reconsidered. He would have to calm her. “Fear not, milady. I didn’t mean to cause you such distress. The visions I saw…you have been through a lot, aye?” He hoped the predictions he made of her future in their last encounter were true or his bluff would be called.

Nodding, Davina took a calming breath as her lashes dipped to her flushed cheeks, then her eyes met his. She shrank from him.

Calm her.
He closed his eyes, allowing the tension to ease from his face, the crease on his brow smoothing away, and he caressed and massaged her hand methodically. Using his immortal influence, he willed a peace to flow over her, like warm water pouring over her head and trickling down her body, washing away the fear and apprehension. She sighed, accepting the calming spirit surrounding her, the time languishing by in luxury.

Now more tranquil, Davina surrendered to his ministrations.

Her mind was a little difficult to navigate, her emotions swirling around in many directions, and her ability to block those memories baffled him. The more she relaxed, though, the more the fog began to lift. Broderick saw through Davina’s eyes and couldn’t resist the wicked grin that surfaced at seeing her memories of dressing for the evening. She stood in front of her looking glass, pulling her shift up her slender form, the thin material caressing her full, jutting breasts. Those images swirled and reformed to show Davina’s reflection fully dressed and applying her perfume.

“I see blossom oil in a glass vial.” His smile broadened. “Intimate places are touched by this fragrance,” he whispered as he saw her touch the valley between her breasts, the two sensitive skin patches behind her knees. Broderick opened his eyes and breathed in deep through his nose. “A fragrance I smell coming from you, lass.”

Fire flew to her cheeks and warmth emanated from her.

He settled his eyes upon her square neckline, where she had dabbed her rose oil, to linger before they traveled up to her sapphire eyes. Without releasing her gaze, he dipped the thumb of his free hand into a bowl of oil heated by a candle.

She tried to pull away once more, but he refused to let her go. “For what is the oil used?” Her voice trembled in spite of her efforts to keep it steady.

“The oil makes the lines upon your hand easier to read,” he explained, and he smoothed the warmth over her palm, each stroke of his thumb slow and deliberate.

The sound of Davina’s heartbeat quickened. Broderick sensed a hunger blossom inside her, and her eyes roamed over his neck and shoulders. Those swirling emotions diluted the last remnants of fear and became a mixture of curiosity and desire. Davina struggled to maintain a slow even breath, fighting the urge to pant. She wondered what his body pressed to hers would be like; feeling his weight upon her and hearing him call her name, his voice thick with desire.

Even with his eyes open, his mind flooded with her erotic images, which joined with Broderick’s own recollection of his dream. He could taste her when he examined her mouth; could feel her sliding down his shaft when his eyes traveled over her curvy figure. Seeing the erotic images she entertained in her mind, mimicking the dream, was his undoing.

With a groan, he dashed around the table, and before she could gather her wits, he pulled her to her feet, wrapping her in his embrace and crushing her arms between them. Davina’s hands upon his chest spread warmth over his body. The wild thumping of his heart beneath her palms matched her own heart’s cadence, pounding in his ears. Davina stared up at him with parted lips, full and tempting, begging to be tasted, and his mouth descended upon hers. With a dexterity that surprised him, she dodged him.

“Stop!”

Amusement played havoc with his features and he eased the tension of his embrace just enough to allow Davina some breathing room. His voice purred, “Stop? You are ripe and ready, lass. What say we indulge in each other in a more private atmosphere?”

Davina stepped out of his embrace and cracked her hand against his cheek.

“What in—” Broderick’s brow scrunched in confusion, and then smoothed as he tipped his head back and hearty laughter poured out of his mouth, his fists planted on his hips.
Oh, I like her!

She stammered back, speechless, and her mouth fumbled with what to say. Before she could begin her insults, Broderick snaked his arms around her again. Davina struggled, pushing her fists against his broad chest still rumbling with his laughter. After much effort she found her tongue. “Let me be, you— you—!”

“Brute?” he supplied, unable to keep from chuckling at her passionate display. “Or am I more appropriately a—”

“An animal! That’s what you are!” She pushed against him with all her might. “Let me—!”

He hadn’t meant for her to fall. He just released her as she wanted and before he could think to snatch her hand, the force of pushing against him landed her right on her bottom.

Davina sat on the ground, dumbfounded, staring up at him. His arms folded across his chest, Broderick smiled down at her for a moment before stretching out a helping hand. Davina refused to take the offered help and rose to her feet unaided, dusting the dirt from her skirts and hands in furious gestures. His continuing flutter of laughter deepened the furrow of her brow.

When she faced him, they stared at each other in silence—his face sparkling with amusement; hers twisted in agitation. The fires of her temper were so easy to stoke, he couldn’t resist teasing her. He nodded toward the offering basket on the table.

She gawked for a moment then gasped. “How dare you ask for contributions when you have done nothing but manhandle me!” Picking up the basket, she threw it at him.

He ducked with ease and chuckled. “Methinks if you had gone with me to more private quarters, you would have been more charitable.”

Fury trembled throughout Davina’s body and he knew she caught his twofold meaning. With a huff, she stormed out of the tent.

Broderick remained thunderstruck from the encounter. Taking a deep breath, and securing his sporran over his erection, he stepped out of the tent and welcomed the cool air and the retreating figure of the enticing, but mysterious, Davina. She stomped into the crowd, and with great reluctance, Broderick tore his eyes away from where she vanished and faced Amice. He took a cautious step back from the piercing glare the old woman leveled at him.

“Davina will not be one of your conquests, Broderick!”

“She’s not a maiden untouched, Amice.” However, this woman’s virtue was not the pressing topic on his mind. Broderick stared off into the crowd, which long closed up behind her, still reeling from her visions of his enemy.

A sharp punch to his shoulder brought him out of his musings. Amice clutched her fists and faced him. “Her lack of innocence does not give you the right to break her heart!”

“What do you mean ‘break her heart’? She doesn’t—”

“I mean she is not one of those tavern wenches you manhandle for a mere handful of coins! If you pursue her, like you have other women in the past, you will crush her!”

“You exaggerate, Amice. She’s a strong-willed woman. No one can break her heart or the wall she has built around it. I saw her defenses. A rousing fiery affair would do her some good.” Broderick stepped into the tent to gather the money from the floor. Closing the tent flap behind him, he handed the coins to Amice. “‘Tis done I am for the evening. I will be in the tavern if you need me.”

Broderick didn’t drink for the sake of getting drunk, but he still enjoyed the taste of good ale. Though becoming a Vamsyrian magnified his senses, neither spirits, wine nor ale influenced him. Besides the drink, Broderick enjoyed the busyness of the taverns, the laughter, the brawls—the women. A tavern wench leaned forward and set the mug of ale before him, and a generous amount of cleavage swelled under the dazzling smile on her face. He grinned at her distraction and winked. He would keep her in mind if need be. She sashayed to another table with a delicious swing to her hips, but he frowned. Her seductive dance wasn’t enough to keep Broderick’s mind from what drove him to the tavern in the first place—the lovely Davina.