The Rogue Hunter (37 page)

It seemed obvious that a lot of anxiety and heartache lay ahead for both of them, and for one brief moment Mortimer considered choosing the kinder path and having Decker wipe her mind to save her from it, but he couldn't. He was too selfish. Mortimer wanted her in his life any way he could get her. As his life mate, she could remain with him even if she wasn't turned, if—

"We'll have to go before the Council," he told her quietly.

"The Council?" Sam echoed, and he wasn't surprised by the worry on her face. "Why?"

"Because if you aren't turned, you have to be—" Mortimer hesitated and then admitted, "I'm not sure what they do. It might be a three-on-one or something, but they'll do something."

"A three-on-one?" she asked warily, and his mouth tipped at the suspicion in her eyes.

"It isn't a sexual thing," Mortimer said with a laugh, but the laugh died as he admitted, "Three Council members will slip into your mind at the same time and do stuff to ensure that you never accidentally tell anyone about us."

"They'll do stuff? What kind of stuff?" Sam asked dubiously.

"I don't know what it is exactly they do," Mortimer admitted wearily, suddenly sure she would balk at the procedure. "But they have a way of locking the knowledge away somewhere so that you know, but can't ever speak about it. It's the only way they'd allow us to be life mates without your turning."

"You mean like a hypnotic suggestion?" she asked slowly.

"I don't know," he admitted, unwilling to lie.

Sam worried her lip briefly, but then sighed and raised her eyes to his. "If that's what it takes, then I guess I'll have to let them do it. I don't want to lose you."

Mortimer let his breath out on a whoosh and hugged her close. "Thank God," he whispered into her hair.

"I do love you, Mortimer," Sam whispered into his chest. "I hope my not being willing to turn right away doesn't make you think I don't. I just—"

"I know." He let her feet slip to the floor. Once she was standing before him, he clasped her face in his hands and smiled down at her. "You love your sisters too. I noticed the closeness the three of you shared right away. I understand."

Sam smiled with relief, and then cleared her throat, and—eyes fixed on the front of his T-shirt—whispered, "Didn't you say something about making love to me earlier?" Raising her eyes to his, she added shyly, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he admitted, brushing one thumb lightly across the corner of her mouth. "And I never want to be without you again."

"You won't," she promised on a whisper. "You have me now. Everything will work out in the end."

Mortimer smiled and bent to cover her mouth with his. He told himself that she was right. They'd found their rogue, and he had won his life mate. Perhaps the worries now floating through his thoughts were for naught. After all, it had turned out their rogue wasn't really a rogue at all. Maybe his worries weren't really worries. Perhaps everything would work out, he told himself, but a part of his mind stood firm and unconvinced. It saw trials ahead to overcome, and dangers that threatened Sam's life and his happiness. And it saw terrible heartache if he lost her to one of those threats.

His distraction was apparently noticeable in his kisses. Sam suddenly broke their kiss to whisper, "You're worrying. Let it go and come back to me."

Mortimer wished it were only that easy, and then Sam apparently decided to show him that it was. She kissed him, this time taking charge of the caress, her own tongue slipping out to urge his lips apart. He was so startled by the aggressive action that he didn't notice that her fingers were busily working on removing his shirt until the buttons were undone and she was pushing the material apart to run her fingers lightly over his bare chest. But in the next moment her attention shifted to his pants, and Mortimer found himself sucking in his breath on a surprised gasp as she merely unsnapped the button and then slid her hand inside to find him.

He almost bit down on her tongue in surprise when her fingers found and closed over him, then he groaned and quickly began undressing her. Mortimer managed to get her T-shirt off and unsnap her bra, but had to give up kissing her to manage it. The moment the bra hit the floor, though, he slid a hand into her hair and dragged her back to kiss again as his other hand moved down to begin tugging at her jogging shorts.

Sam hadn't been still while he worked. She'd left off caressing him to concentrate on finishing undoing his jeans and was pushing them down off his hips even as he tugged her shorts off her own. The moment their shorts dropped to tangle around their ankles, Mortimer tumbled Sam to the bed, but the shorts put him off balance and they landed on their sides, still kissing.

She laughed against his mouth as he rolled so that she was beneath him on the bed, and then groaned when he found and began to knead one breast even as he ground his hips forward so that his erection pressed eagerly against her. His own groan followed as her pleasure struck him, and—despite the fact that he'd experienced this with her the first time they'd made love—he marveled at it anew.

This shared pleasure was something Mortimer had heard about for centuries. Young immortals whispered about such things while growing up, wondering what it would be like, and just how good it might be. Neither he nor his young friends had had a clue, he thought now. There was simply no way to imagine the all-encompassing, overwhelming intensity of the experience. Between that and the safety one experienced being able to just be with someone without having to constantly guard one's thoughts, Mortimer thought he understood why immortals had killed for life mates, and even been known to destroy themselves at their loss. He already couldn't imagine a life without Sam in it.

"Oh God, Sweet Cheeks, please," Sam moaned by his ear, her nails digging into his behind and urging him closer still.

Mortimer stiffened slightly, and broke the kiss to rise up and peer at her blankly. "Sweet Cheeks?"

Sam blushed, but then gave a breathless laugh and admitted, "You suggested a pet name and I've been working on it. I don't know about your toes, but you have the nicest behind I've ever seen on a man, so…" When Mortimer just stared at her, she added seriously, "You have a very nice penis too, and it gives me a great deal of pleasure, but I somehow didn't think Sweet Penis would go over well in public. Although I guess I could shorten it to Sweet P."

Mortimer closed his eyes at the very suggestion. He could just imagine the men's reaction if she ever called him Sweet P in front of them. Hell, Sweet Cheeks wasn't much better. In reality, Sweet Penis would probably give him the most status with the guys. But he knew there was no way she would use it in public.

Seeming to sense his distress, she promised, "I'll keep working on it."

A soft chuckle slipped from his lips, and Mortimer opened his eyes and peered solemnly down at her. "I love you, Sam."

"I love you too, Garrett Gordon Mortimer," she said, sounding surprised at the solemn tone to his voice.

He nodded, and then said, "We can do this. I'm going to keep you safe and well until you're ready to turn. And I'm going to help you see your sisters settled and do whatever it takes for you to be willing to take that step."

Sam nodded solemnly and then said, "And I'll do whatever I have to to keep you safe and well too."

Mortimer blinked at the promise and then asked with amusement, "What makes you think I need keeping safe?"

"You're a cop, Mortimer," she pointed out quietly.

"I deal with police officers all the time. I have friends who are cops. I know what I'm getting into here. The constant worry that you won't come home, the—"

"No, no, no," Mortimer interrupted, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. "No, Sam, sweetheart. You don't have to worry about that. I'm an immortal."

"You may be
an
immortal, but from what I understand that doesn't mean you
are
immortal," she pointed out. "And the rogues you hunt are also immortals, and they know how to kill you if they aren't wanting to be caught, don't they?"

His eyebrows rose at her words. He'd never thought about it like that.

"So," she said, raising her hands to frame his face now. "We'll keep each other safe and happy. We can do it, Mortimer… together."

"Together," he agreed, and felt his hope reawakening inside him.

As he bent to kiss her, Mortimer began to think that perhaps they could do it. Together. As long as they had each other, anything was possible.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Sam and Mortimer's story. As you've probably guessed, you'll see more of this couple in the future. I'm happy to say you'll also see more of the Argeneau clan in coming stories.

However, between this vamp book and the next one comes something else.

As some of you may know I started out writing historical novels. They usually have some mystery and adventure to them like my vamps do, as well as the kinds of characters I like to write: smart, sassy females and strong, intelligent males. They also have my trademark humor. In fact, over the years, I've repeatedly heard them called "hysterical historicals." I fear that's because I find it difficult to write without humor, no matter what genre I am working in, and the historical time period (whether medieval or Regency) really makes it easy to write funny. I mean, if you thought Mortimer and Sam's difficulties getting together was the least bit amusing, you wouldn't believe the sorts of storylines I can come up with when you throw in arranged marriages, chastity belts, or ailing, flatulent horses. (Got you curious now, don't I? grin)

Anyway, my next historical novel will be published in February 2009.
Devil of the Highlands
is about Evelinde, an English gal forced to marry a Scottish laird, Cullen, the Devil of Donnachaidh. With a name like that you shouldn't be surprised to hear Cullen has a rather nasty reputation, but reputations aren't always earned, and he proves himself a sweetheart. Now if they could just figure out who's trying to kill her… well, things might just work out all right.

If you already read my historicals, then I hope you enjoy Evelinde and her devil as much as my previous stories. If you've never tried one of my historicals and have only read the vamps before this… well, why don't you give it a try? If nothing else it would give you a long backlist of stories to read while you're waiting for that next Argeneau book. (grin)

Lynsay

Turn the page for a sneak peek at

DEVIL OF THE HIGHLANDS

Coming February 2009

From Avon Books

Cullen was the first to see her. The sight made him rein in so sharply, his horse reared in response. He tightened his thighs around his mount to help keep his seat, moving automatically to calm the animal, but he didn't take his eyes off the woman in the glen.

"God's teeth. What is she doing?" Fergus asked as he halted beside him.

Cullen didn't even glance to the tall, burly redhead who was his first. He merely shook his head silently, transfixed by the sight. The woman was riding back and forth across the clearing, sending her horse charging first one way, then the other and back. That in itself was odd, but what had put the hush in Fergus's voice and completely captured Cullen's tongue was the fact she was doing so in nothing but a transparent chemise while holding the reins of her mount in her teeth. Her hands were otherwise occupied. They were upraised and holding what appeared to be a cape in the air so it billowed out behind her above her streams of golden hair as she rode back and forth… back and forth… back and forth.

"Who do you think she is?" Rory's question was the only way Cullen knew the other men had caught up as well.

"I doona ken, but I could watch the lass all day," Tavis said, his voice sounding hungry. "Though there are other things I'd rather be doing to her all day."

Cullen found himself irritated by that remark. Tavis was his cousin, and the charmer among his men; fair-haired, handsome, and with a winning smile, it took little effort for him to woo women to his bed of a night. And the man took full advantage of the ability, charming his way under women's skirts at every opportunity. Were titles awarded by such an ability, Tavis would have been the king of Scotland.

"I'd first be wanting to ken why she's doing what she is," Fergus said slowly. "I've no desire to bed a wench who isna right in the head."

"It isna her head I'd be taking to me bed." Tavis laughed.

"Aye." Gillie said, his voice sounding almost dreamy.

Cullen turned a hard glare on his men. "Ride on. I'll catch up to ye."

There was a moment of silence as eyebrows rose and glances were exchanged, then all five men took up their reins.

"Ride around the meadow," Cullen instructed, when they started to move forward.

There was another exchange of glances, but the men followed the tree line around the meadow.

Cullen waited until they had disappeared from sight, then turned back to the woman. His eyes followed her back and forth several times before he urged his mount forward.

It hadn't appeared so from the edge of the meadow, but the woman was actually moving at high speed on her beast, slowing only to make the turn before spurring her horse into a dead run toward the other side. The mare didn't seem to mind. If anything, the animal seemed to think it was some sort of game and threw herself into each run with an impressive burst of speed.

Cullen rode up beside the mare, but the woman didn't immediately notice him. Her attention was shifting between the path ahead and the cloth in her upraised hands. When she finally did glimpse him out of the corner of her eye, he wasn't at all prepared for her reaction.

The lass's eyes widened, and her head jerked back with a start, unintentionally yanking on the reins she clenched in her teeth. The mare suddenly jerked to a halt and reared. The lass immediately dropped her hands to grab for the reins and the cloth she'd been holding swung around and slapped—heavy and wet—across Cullen's face. It both stung and briefly blinded him, making him jerk on his own reins in surprise, and suddenly his own mount was turning away and rearing as well.