A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(73)

He patted his thigh, and she curled up and laid her head down as she had before, his words living in her head beside thoughts of Arturo. She knew that the vampire couldn't be trusted to tell her the truth, but she had seen goodness in him. At least she thought she had. Was that just one more lie, or was he truly the exception to the rule?

Did it even matter? If she succeeded in escaping Vamp City this time, she would never see Arturo again.

She was lying on the beach, the towel beneath her soft and sun-warmed, the sun a blazing ball in the clear blue sky. A breeze blew across her heated skin, cooling, soothing. Heaven.

A shadow fell across her closed eyelids, and she looked up, blinking at the man standing over her. He was dressed all in black, his skin hinting of the Mediterranean, his dark eyes gleaming with a heat that had nothing to do with the sun.

In the blink of an eye, his shirt was gone, his broad, muscular chest on full display. For her. Only for her. There was no one else on the beach, no one in the world but the two of them.

He wanted her, she could see it in his eyes. And she wanted him.

She only had to think the words and he was kneeling beside her in the sand, lifting her hips as he pulled off her bikini bottoms. Then his hand was between her thighs, his other pulling aside her bikini top as his mouth dipped to claim her now-bare breast. His fingers stroked her sensitive flesh, back and forth, sliding through her wetness, delving into the dark heat of her body.

You were made for me, cara. Though she heard no words, his thoughts flowed freely into her head. You are mine.

And then he was over her, his pants mysteriously gone, his c**k pressing against her, sliding inside her. And it was good. So good.

Quinn!

Arturo's sharp voice startled her awake and she sat up, blinking in the dim light in confusion. Someone had turned out all but one of the oil lamps.

"You okay?" Marcus asked quietly beside her. Around them, the others slept, some snoring softly.

"Yes. Just . . . dreaming."

Ah, were you asleep, cara? Were you dreaming of me? I felt your passion rise, and I admit to a strike of jealousy.

The dream had fled, thanks to him, but she couldn't deny the feeling of restless heat that still throbbed between her legs or the tingling sensitivity of every inch of her skin. That had been one hell of a dream. She supposed she should be grateful for the interruption, or she might have truly embarrassed herself.

I think of you, cara, constantly. The way your skin smells when you're aroused, the way it flushes a beautiful shade of rose when I stroke my hand over you.

Quinn groaned. Go away, Vampire. If only he could hear her.

If only she could deny she felt any attraction for him. But she tried hard never to lie, especially to herself. She might have seen the last of him, but it would be a long, long time before she forgot Arturo Mazza, her onetime vampire master.

Chapter Sixteen

The flicker of lanterns beat against her eyelids, waking her. Quinn sat up, feeling more rested than she should, considering her midnight visit. Around her, the others rose as the Slavas once more lit all six oil lamps. With no windows, and no real light either way, morning had to be manufactured.

Jeff came over to them, handed out chunks of hard-as-rock bread. "Eat, then we'll leave." He cut her an annoyed look but didn't say anything more. It wasn't like they'd intended to spend more than the one night here. She certainly hadn't. This morning, she was heading for the gladiator camp and nowhere else. The others could come with her or stay behind. Their choice.

The bread was truly awful, not much better than cardboard, but she managed to get it down. As they rose to go, Delilah came over to them, her eyes swollen and red from a night of crying, her jaw resolute.

"I'd like to travel with you if that's all right."

Jeff looked at her stonily. "It's not."

"Jeff . . ." Marcus said quietly.

"I don't trust a vamp-lover."

Quinn had had enough. "You're welcome to come with me, Delilah."

Jeff rounded on her. "You selfish little bitch."

Quinn whirled until they were face-to-face. "You, who considers no one but yourself, is calling me selfish? That's rich."

Temper, cara, Arturo chided.

Oh, shut up, Vampire, she snapped, wishing that for once he could hear her.

"If you want me to lead you - "

She cut Jeff off. "I don't need you half as much as you need me, and you know it."

Marcus's hand landed firmly on her shoulder. "This isn't the place for this discussion."

He was right, dammit. Not unless she wanted Richard and every Slava in here to know she was a sorceress. Maybe a weak one, but a sorceress all the same. Quinn pulled back, folding her arms across her chest. "Delilah comes. Nonnegotiable."

Jeff shook his head in disgust. "You're a fool." He swung one of the packs onto his shoulder and stalked toward the front door.

The others hesitated only a moment before following.

Quinn looked at Delilah, motioning her with her head to join them.

With a look of relief, the Slava fell into step beside her. "Thank you. I'm sorry I've caused you so much trouble."

"Is there ever anything but trouble in this place?"

The Slava smiled weakly. "I suppose not."

Jeff led the way outside, where the streets were dim and colorless, faintly lit by the steel gray of day. But Quinn no longer trusted him to lead her to the gladiator camp.