amusement sounded from the other side
of the curtain. Suddenly Erin wondered if vampires had x-ray vision. She fought
the urge to cover her breasts with her arms.
“Little fire,” he answered tenderly. “Now calm down. I’ve
only come to bring you clean clothes. I’ll give you your precious privacy.”
She heard the bathroom door shut but peeked from behind the
curtain just to be sure.
She stayed until the water ran cold. When she stepped out
of the shower, the first thing she noticed was a familiar hot pink thong
sitting on top of the pile of clothes, broadcasting loudly, “I rooted through
your underwear drawer!” She blushed and fought back the urge to slink away
through the window. But it wouldn’t open, she’d already checked. Dressed in the
new denim shorts and blue flowered peasant top she stepped out of the bathroom.
Marcelo was stretched out on the bed, boots off and TV
remote in hand.
“I’m surprised you know how to work that thing,” she said
eyeing the remote.
He turned to regard her with hooded eyes. His gaze
flickered across her face, where her cheeks were probably still red, then down
the rest of her, lingering on her hips. Shit. He was thinking about that pink
thong. His lips twitched. “Not very grateful, are you? I saved your life and brought you clean clothes.”
She bit her lip, suddenly ashamed. He was right. He was
taking care of her as a favor to her sister and she was acting like a bitch.
Yes, he’d killed at least three men in her apartment and most of the time he
scared the shit out of her, but he was protecting her. He’d been demanding,
bossy, and purposefully intimidating, but he hadn’t hurt her.
“Sorry,” she said taking a step closer. “You’re getting
paid for this gig, right?”
“Gig?”
She waved a dramatic hand. “Mission, assignment,
Operation Save the Human…”
“Cargo delivery,” he said with a grin, knowing it would
provoke her.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I try to be nice
to you.”
“We went over this already.” He spoke as if she had lost
a large quantity of brain cells over the last few hours. She wasn’t altogether
certain she hadn’t. “Because I saved your life and brought you clean clothes.”
“Right.” Sighing in resignation she took a seat on the
bed opposite the large body taking up most of it. “So you went back to my
apartment?”
“Yes,” he answered but focused his attention back to the
TV. The Barefoot Contessa was baking something with five pounds of butter. Vampires watch the Food Network? She shook her
head. As if that were the strangest thing she’d seen all day.
“Why did you go back?”
“Isn’t getting you clean clothes reason enough?”
“Did you –”
He interrupted her question with a black look. “Don’t ask
questions you –”
“Don’t want to know the answers to. Yeah, yeah.” She sighed
and began chewing on a nail.
***
“Have you talked to Sage?” Erin asked, shifting her body
just enough that the air condition vent blew her scent straight into Marcelo’s
path.
He groaned on the inside and shifted to hide the evidence
of his arousal. It was uncomfortable pressed up against his leather pants. If
it were anyone other than Sage’s sister in the room, he would have seduced the
woman. After the fight with the sorcerers, he desperately needed release.
Something about bloodshed and sex…they just went together. Like bees and honey.
Swords and spears. Heads and pikes. Knives and…more knives.
And Erin smelled as delicious as whatever nonsense the
chef on TV was making. Already his mouth salivated for her. He forced his mind
away from the seductive fragrance of her flowery shampoo.
“I spoke with her mate, James,” he answered, bending the
truth a little.
“Mate?” She crinkled her nose. “Don’t you mean
boyfriend?”
A mate bond was much stronger than a mere dating relationship.
Stronger even than marriage, which was a human tradition, unnecessary
of the curtain. Suddenly Erin wondered if vampires had x-ray vision. She fought
the urge to cover her breasts with her arms.
“Little fire,” he answered tenderly. “Now calm down. I’ve
only come to bring you clean clothes. I’ll give you your precious privacy.”
She heard the bathroom door shut but peeked from behind the
curtain just to be sure.
She stayed until the water ran cold. When she stepped out
of the shower, the first thing she noticed was a familiar hot pink thong
sitting on top of the pile of clothes, broadcasting loudly, “I rooted through
your underwear drawer!” She blushed and fought back the urge to slink away
through the window. But it wouldn’t open, she’d already checked. Dressed in the
new denim shorts and blue flowered peasant top she stepped out of the bathroom.
Marcelo was stretched out on the bed, boots off and TV
remote in hand.
“I’m surprised you know how to work that thing,” she said
eyeing the remote.
He turned to regard her with hooded eyes. His gaze
flickered across her face, where her cheeks were probably still red, then down
the rest of her, lingering on her hips. Shit. He was thinking about that pink
thong. His lips twitched. “Not very grateful, are you? I saved your life and brought you clean clothes.”
She bit her lip, suddenly ashamed. He was right. He was
taking care of her as a favor to her sister and she was acting like a bitch.
Yes, he’d killed at least three men in her apartment and most of the time he
scared the shit out of her, but he was protecting her. He’d been demanding,
bossy, and purposefully intimidating, but he hadn’t hurt her.
“Sorry,” she said taking a step closer. “You’re getting
paid for this gig, right?”
“Gig?”
She waved a dramatic hand. “Mission, assignment,
Operation Save the Human…”
“Cargo delivery,” he said with a grin, knowing it would
provoke her.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I try to be nice
to you.”
“We went over this already.” He spoke as if she had lost
a large quantity of brain cells over the last few hours. She wasn’t altogether
certain she hadn’t. “Because I saved your life and brought you clean clothes.”
“Right.” Sighing in resignation she took a seat on the
bed opposite the large body taking up most of it. “So you went back to my
apartment?”
“Yes,” he answered but focused his attention back to the
TV. The Barefoot Contessa was baking something with five pounds of butter. Vampires watch the Food Network? She shook her
head. As if that were the strangest thing she’d seen all day.
“Why did you go back?”
“Isn’t getting you clean clothes reason enough?”
“Did you –”
He interrupted her question with a black look. “Don’t ask
questions you –”
“Don’t want to know the answers to. Yeah, yeah.” She sighed
and began chewing on a nail.
***
“Have you talked to Sage?” Erin asked, shifting her body
just enough that the air condition vent blew her scent straight into Marcelo’s
path.
He groaned on the inside and shifted to hide the evidence
of his arousal. It was uncomfortable pressed up against his leather pants. If
it were anyone other than Sage’s sister in the room, he would have seduced the
woman. After the fight with the sorcerers, he desperately needed release.
Something about bloodshed and sex…they just went together. Like bees and honey.
Swords and spears. Heads and pikes. Knives and…more knives.
And Erin smelled as delicious as whatever nonsense the
chef on TV was making. Already his mouth salivated for her. He forced his mind
away from the seductive fragrance of her flowery shampoo.
“I spoke with her mate, James,” he answered, bending the
truth a little.
“Mate?” She crinkled her nose. “Don’t you mean
boyfriend?”
A mate bond was much stronger than a mere dating relationship.
Stronger even than marriage, which was a human tradition, unnecessary
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