Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(45)

“Sally, what’s wrong?”

Wrong? She bit back a hysterical laugh.

What was wrong was that she was being burned alive by a craving that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Nothing.” She wiped her damp palms on her jeans, well aware her arousal was scenting the air. “I think I’ll check out the kitchen.”

His gaze settled on the unsteady curve of her lips. “Hungry already?”

“No, but I want to see if there are enough ingredients to brew a few protective spells.”

He frowned. “The spells—”

“Nothing dangerous,” she said. “I swear.”

He paused, searching her wary expression as if hoping to find . . .

She wasn’t entirely certain what he was looking for, but he obviously failed to find it as he dropped his hand and stepped back.

“Don’t try to leave the house.” He nodded toward the monitors displaying images of the thick trees that circled the house. “The security alarms are set.”

Stupidly she found herself disappointed at his easy retreat.

What did she want?

For him to ignore her don’t-touch-me vibes? To force her to overcome her logic and ease her gnawing frustration?

Christ. She was a mess.

It was a wonder the poor man hadn’t dumped her along the side of the road for his own sanity.

She hunched a shoulder. “I’m not going to take off.”

“Good. For better or worse, we’re in this together.”

“For now.”

His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “I’ll be downstairs.” He reached beneath his jacket to pull out the music box. “Do you want me to lock this in a safe?”

She reached to take it, feeling the magic wrap around her with a sense of pleasure.

Perhaps she should be worried by her growing delight in the surge of rich, potent power that raced through her as she traced one of the mysterious hieroglyphs, but it felt so utterly natural it was difficult to imagine it was dangerous.

“No, I’ll keep it with me.”

Roke hesitated, as if he wanted to say something. Or maybe he wanted her to say something.

Maybe to ask him to stay?

When she kept her eyes averted, he muttered something in a low voice and turned to make his way toward the staircase that led to the lower floors.

As she felt the chill of his presence disappear, Sally heaved a deep sigh and headed toward the kitchen.

She’d hoped Roke’s departure would ease the restless frustration that was plaguing her. Instead, it only intensified it.

Unless she intended to follow him to his private rooms and fulfill her vivid fantasies, she needed to keep her hands busy and her mind occupied.

Roke went through the motions.

He fed from the bags of blood kept in a refrigerated safe hidden in the wall. He showered and changed into a black satin robe that had been left in the closet. Then he forced himself to lie on the king-size bed that dominated the wood paneled room.

He was too old a vampire to need sleep, but he did need to rest to replenish his powers.

So while he tended to his physical needs, his mind remained consumed with the female who he could feel moving through the house above him.

Her first destination was the kitchen where the smell of herbs mixed with her intoxicating peach scent that seemed to grow more vibrant and complex with every beat of her heart.

Hours passed before he at last heard her heading up the stairs and stepping into the shower. He growled low in his throat at the thought of her standing naked beneath the cascade of hot water.

He’d been in a constant state of arousal since he’d caught the subtle shift in Sally’s awareness of him.

Sitting across the table in that café, he’d been painfully aware the second her pulse had picked up and her eyes had dilated.

And even now, her desire hummed through their mating bond, calling to him like a siren’s song.

But as revved as he might be to satisfy their mutual hunger, he hadn’t missed her tension.

She wanted him.

But she wasn’t yet prepared to trust him.

And between the two, it was her trust he most needed.

How else could he protect her?

All very noble, he acknowledged with clenched teeth, but painful as hell. It was no wonder saints always looked like pious sourpusses in their paintings.

Blue balls would do that to the most heroic man.

Waiting until he felt her crawl into bed and tumble into sleep, Roke rose from the mattress and began to methodically clean his guns.

It was a task that kept his hands occupied, but his mind free to work through his tangled thoughts.

The sun was setting when he felt a tingle of fear race through the mating bond followed by a hoarse female cry.

Instantly he was on his feet, allowing his senses to spread through the house as he raced up the steps.

He could detect no intruders, but that didn’t halt him from vaulting up the second flight of steps with a blinding speed, the gun he’d just loaded held in one hand and his fangs fully extended.

Exploding into Sally’s room, he came to an abrupt halt, his brows drawing together as he realized that she wasn’t being attacked.

In fact, she remained deeply asleep on the large bed.

He grimaced, about to back out of the room when she twisted onto her back, revealing the sweat coating her face.