Runaway Vampire (Argeneau, #23)(30)
Sighing, he closed his eyes, trying not to feel guilty for doing so. He felt like he should be out driving around trying to find his kidnappers to draw their attention. However, Lucian had said it would take until dawn for the hunters he was sending to reach them, and that they should remain at the RV camp for the night. A fortuitous order in a way, since Dante couldn’t control Mary and make her leave the campground, as he would otherwise have done. He suspected he’d have had a battle on his hand had he tried to force the issue. Mary had been amazingly accepting of everything so far, and hadn’t even pestered him with questions about his abilities as he’d expected. But he knew she was exhausted and suspected that was the reason why. He’d put her through a lot tonight, and that after she’d spent the day driving the monster presently housing them.
Actually, Dante was rather impressed with how she was handling everything so far. She was obviously a strong woman not given to hysterics and that could only be a good thing. He suspected they’d both be grateful for that before this was all over.
Grimacing, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, trying not to think of all the things that could go wrong when they left this campground tomorrow. The worst scenario was one where Mary was hurt and he was taken out by another drugged dart and unable to help her. The very thought of that was enough to scare the crap out of him and Dante began to wonder if he shouldn’t convince Mary to wait here while he drove out alone, promising to return for her.
He was contemplating how to convince her to let him do that when he felt sleep overtaking him. Dante drifted off to sleep with a little sigh, then was startled awake by the sound of the bedroom door sliding open. Opening his eyes, he rose up on one elbow, and peered at Mary uncertainly as she stepped into the room. The RV was dark as could be, but his eyes were made for darkness and he could see her clearly in the overlarge T-shirt he’d caught glimpses of earlier when her robe had parted slightly. It looked surprisingly sexy for a man’s shirt, clinging to her breasts and hips and stopping halfway down her thighs, leaving her shapely legs on display.
Forcing his gaze back to her face, he asked with concern, “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Mary said softly. “I just wanted to be sure you were all right. I know you’re worried about your brother.”
Dante let his breath out on a sigh, his body releasing the tension that had suddenly claimed it.
“Yes. Thank you,” he added softly. “I am worried about him, of course, but we will find him.”
“Of course we will,” she said, but her voice sounded distracted now. Noticing that her eyes had dropped, he glanced down to see that the sheet had slipped down, leaving his bare chest on show. Resisting the urge to flex his muscles to try to impress her, he instead held out his hand and said her name softly.
Mary gave a start at the sound of her name and glanced to the hand he held out. After a hesitation, she took the couple of steps necessary and took his hand lightly in her own.
When Dante smiled and squeezed her hand, then tugged gently, urging her to sit, she didn’t fight, but sank slowly to sit on the side of the couch-bed. Trying not to rush her and scare her off, he toyed with her hand briefly, then glanced up to her face and said, “I would like to kiss you.”
“Yes, please,” she murmured, and that’s when Dante realized he was dreaming. He was quite sure that in reality, Mary Winslow would not come out to check on him in nothing but an overlarge T-shirt, would not cross willingly to the bed to take his hand, and would not agree to his kissing her. This was one of the infamous shared dreams immortals and their mates enjoyed when they found each other. Mary wouldn’t realize what it was, that he was here with her. She would think it was just a normal dream, the result of her desires, which meant she wouldn’t be held back by fears or anxieties. She would do as she truly wished without being held back by all the morals and societal pressures that normally affected behavior. But this dream was also an opportunity for him to show her what she could have with him.
Nodding to himself, Dante released her hands and sat up, noting the way Mary’s eyes followed his sheet as it dropped to pool around his waist. Smiling, he slid his hand around her head and pulled her forward to claim her lips. She went still at first, but when he slid his tongue out to urge her lips apart, she opened to him and the moment he deepened the kiss a moan sounded deep in her throat and she melted against him like butter on a warm muffin. The moment she did, Dante slipped his arm around her waist and twisted his upper body on the bed, dragging her across his lower body to lay her on her back on the inside of the bed.
Mary gasped in surprise at the action, her arms instinctively closing around him and holding tight. Once her back touched the cool sheets, though, she began to kiss him back. She also eased her panicked grip and began to run her hands over his shoulders and then up into his hair.
Dante moaned his pleasure as her nails scraped across his scalp. He was leaning on one arm to keep from crushing her, but let his other hand begin to move then, following the curve of her side and hip, and then following that curve back up, before allowing it to slide over to cover one breast.
Mary moaned and arched into the caress, her hands tightening in his hair. But in the next moment, she released that tight grip to begin moving her hands over the skin of his back again. Mary alternately massaged the muscles of his back and pulled at him, her body shifting and arching as he kneaded and squeezed first one breast then the other through the cloth of her overlarge T-shirt.