Free Her Dark Lord by Mel Teshco Page A

overdrive. She took a deep breath, then another. When she spoke, her voice came out like frost. “Did you make inquiries before taking me to bed? Checked out my references, perhaps?”
    His white teeth glinted amusement, raising her blood to boiling point as he climbed to his feet, clearly deeming her question unworthy of an answer.
    Bastard!
    His sinewy body hard and sleek, he shrugged into his white evening shirt, then pulled up dark briefs and tailored pants over his long, powerful thighs.
    A growl caught at the back of her throat. Damn him. Seeing him cover that beautiful body made her want him again. Surely he could stay a little longer and bring her to orgasm just once more? No, it was better that he left. She’d never wished for anything above an extraordinary lay and she wasn’t about to start now. This driving need was her bloodlust twitching hungrily, tempting her to sample him again, to have him deep inside her while she lost herself to exquisite sensation, heady with bliss.
    Even now her fingers itched to unbutton his shirt and pants. To once more explore the hard ridges of his chest, his satin-soft skin with the faint but highly erotic scent of cinnamon and musk.
    He laced up his shoes, and then straightened. Tall and forbidding, his eyes now dispassionate as he looked at her. “If you’re interested in my offer, meet me in the motel foyer. Tonight. Eight o’clock sharp.”
     
    Kia carefully emphasized the unusual green-gold shade of her eyes as she applied a coat of black mascara to her lashes. Capping the lid, she took one last look in the mirror.
    Drop-dead gorgeous? Yes. But only tonight had she truly been glad of her inherited looks.
    Copper hair streaked with natural shades of amber and blond fell halfway down her back. It swished against the bare skin along her spine where a designer, cherry-red gown showed off her curves with its plunging front and back V-neckline.
    None would ever guess that beneath the delicate woman lurked a monster, half starved and restrained by the barest thread of steely determination. Just one sniff of human blood, one drop, and all her resolve could easily snap.
    A pure vampire she was not, but her fundamental needs were just as fierce as any of the murderous purebreds. The only distinctions between them were that she never killed in bloodlust, and that the senses inherited from her sire were mostly unrivaled.
    But tonight wasn’t about her. Tonight, it was about her mother’s survival. It was as simple and harsh as that.
    Kia’s hand trembled when she smeared crimson lipstick to the arch of her full lips. She couldn’t fail her mum now. Time was running out. A week, maybe two, was all Chantal had left before the illness claimed her.
    Tossing the lipstick and mascara into her makeup clutch on the shiny, white-tiled sink, she took a deep breath before making her way to the elevator just outside her room.
    Her legs flooded with weakness as she stepped inside. When the doors swished apart some minutes later to find him already waiting, she half sagged against the mirrored wall behind her.
    So tall and magnetic, he was positively arresting in a superbly cut suit the same hue as his midnight, short-cropped hair. He stalked forward and she raised her chin, meeting him in the foyer with a poise that would have done any actress proud.
    His silver eyes held hers. “You came.”
    “You thought I wouldn’t?”
    He smiled, catching hold of the crook of her arm. A frisson of awareness, of anticipation, caught her by surprise, but she regained control as he drew her toward the hotel’s ornate glass doors, which slid open as they approached.
    “I had to consider it a possibility.”
    Her stiletto heels clacked across the stone pavement leading away from the building. She glanced up. “But…?”
    “I believed you wouldn’t deny your destiny.”
    A shiver tingled from her spine to her toes. “You say that based on what exactly?”
    They stilled beside the wide asphalt road.