Authors: T J Michaels
A ten year stint in the military followed by several years of exploring the world led to the loss of his country bumpkin accent and the acquisition of a bit of sophistication.
In between chuckles, the way those smoldering hazel-gray eyes took her in made her belly flutter nervously, but she didn’t feel uncomfortable or afraid. She was attracted. It had been an eon since a man had caught her attention and the feeling was rather foreign. She was glad when she spotted their waiter approaching, desperate for something other than his yummy mouth to concentrate on.
The second their plates met the table her stomach responded. Loudly. Oh Lord, she was beyond embarrassed as the stupid organ gurgled and grumbled, telling anyone within earshot it was well past mealtime.
“I’m glad I asked you to come and eat dinner with me. Seems your stomach is, too.”
Whoa, was he teasing her about how much food she’d ordered? They’d been having a perfectly good time, but the bottom line was she didn’t really know him. There’d been plenty too-brainy-too-curvy comments growing up. The last thing she was in the mood for was some strange guy, no matter how friendly or gorgeous, to throw subtle darts about not being a skinny little stick figure.
Carin looked up from her plate and searched his eyes, but what she expected to see wasn’t there. No snarky, turned-up lips, no condescending flat stare. Instead, his carefree expression held a hint of mischief. And she felt it.
Felt
him
good-naturedly poking fun at her. A warm wash of humor emanated from him. A slight brush against her mind, just like the one she’d felt in the gym, urged her to reach for the same emotions and embrace them.
Instead she pushed them aside and dug into her food, wondering if Bix felt her apprehension towards him build and then melt away. She’d known since she was a child that she was an empath but never actually explored her abilities. However, she knew enough to realize most people projected their emotions. But this was different. Bix’s emotions streamed out of him in a controlled manner, not rushing at her like most people’s. Maybe she should explore this a bit.
“I’m glad you’re eating,” Bix mumbled around a bite of spicy smoked meat. “Most women don’t actually eat anything when they’re out at a restaurant. They just kind of push the food around on their plates.”
“Well, I’ve never been the frilly-froo-froo, too-cute-to-eat type,” she said, taking a healthy bite of juicy chicken breast. “Besides, if I want to stay healthy I have to give my body plenty of good food, not starve myself to death.”
He gave her a slow, intense once-over, conveying exactly what he thought about her body. From the top of her head down to the tasteful peep of cleavage showing through the scoop neck of her T-shirt. He lingered there for a moment. “I agree. And you look like you take care of your body very well. Very well, indeed.”
The man eyed her like she was a tasty morsel on his plate. Unused to such attention, all she could do was look down at her slowly disappearing chicken and rice and mumble a shaky, “Thank you.” His expression was too hot to handle and left her wishing she’d worn more clothes.
Or less.
Blushing like a schoolgirl, she was thankful he couldn’t hear her heart speed up every time he leaned forward and gave his full attention as if her words were the most important in the world.
Then he seemed to back off a bit, relaxing against the backrest of their booth with a lazy smile. Thank goodness. One more heart-stopping grin or wickedly hungry look and she’d go up in smoke. Lord, this was ridiculous. But it sure felt nice. Too bad she was leaving in the morning.
“What time is it?” she asked, glancing down at her bare wrist. She’d forgotten her watch was already packed in her overnight bag at the hotel.
“It’s almost seven-thirty.” Bix raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention and paid the check. “I have a plane to catch, so perhaps I’d better go.”
“Yeah, me too. I’m packed, but I have to…uh, yeah. I have a plane to catch, I mean,” she rambled. She hated when she rambled. It was a nervous thing. She clamped her lips shut, and then remembered her manners. “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry. I didn’t thank you for taking care of my dinner, Jon.”
“Bix.”
“Right, sorry. Uh, I mean Bix,” she blurted out nervously.
Geez, I’m a babbling idiot with this guy
. On a subtle but steadying breath, her chin went up as she took, well sort of took control of her nervousness. “Listen, I’ve gotta run. It was nice to meet you, Bix.” She pulled a business card out of the PDA case in her purse and pushed it across the table. “If you’re ever in San Diego, give me a call. Good night.”
“Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.”
She frowned at his commanding tone. Not harsh, but as if he expected her to simply obey him, and do as he wanted with no question. Strangely, she wanted to yield to his wishes, but shook it off with practiced ease. Besides, she was going home tomorrow and would probably never see him again in her life, so why start something she had no intention of continuing? But damn she wanted to so badly. Scooting out of the booth, her body cooled with an unexpected sense of loss.
“Thanks, but that’s okay. I’ll be fine. Good night.” Coat in hand, Carin headed for the front door, needing to reconcile her reeling emotions and put some space between herself and this all-too-alpha male who made her want to forget all measure of self-control.
She reached out to push open the glass doors when a large, slightly calloused hand landed gently on top of hers. Bix. She turned around and glared at him.
“It’s dark out and I’m a bit old-fashioned when it comes to a lady walking alone in the dark.” Bix felt her shock at both his presence and her reaction to his touch. Her shiver of fear was arousing. The scent of it tickled his nose and… Wait. Her fear was arousing? What the hell was wrong with him? He reluctantly removed his hand from hers, backed up a step and pushed the door open. Shooing her through and into the parking lot, he allowed himself a half-smile as Carin projected her confusion.
She didn’t understand this flicker and buzz between them any more than he did. He let his concern flow out of his mind and concentrated instead on the way her tight butt moved underneath her workout clothes as she walked to her car. Oh God, not good. Perhaps looking up at the lamppost was a better idea.
Carin’s stomach dropped into her shoes when a glance into the rear-view mirror told her Bix still tailed her. She felt hunted, yet strangely exhilarated by his pursuit, if that’s what it was. An odd combination of fear and eagerness warred in her mind. With the restaurant a mile behind her, good old-fashioned fear pushed everything else aside. Her cell phone rang just as she considered dialing 9-1-1.
“Hey there. Where are you staying?”
The medium bass of his voice floated across the airwaves and through her earpiece, soothing and massaging her senses. Her panic dissipated but didn’t disappear.
“At the Ramada, right off of I-25 and 120th.”
“You’re kidding,” he continued in the same relaxed voice. “I’m at the same hotel. I’ll bet you were getting worried wondering if I was last week’s hatchet murderer following you around.”
“I was
not
worried,” she growled mutinously, glaring daggers at him through the phone. When his chuckle grew into outright laughter, her frown gave way to a reluctant smile. “Okay, fine, I was getting a little nervous. There, you happy?”
Her grumbling made him laugh harder. “Yes, actually, I am happy. Means you have common sense, woman.”
Once at the hotel, he parked right next to her, got out of his car and waited while she shut off the engine, popped the trunk and hit the automatic locks on the Mustang. As soon as she cracked her door, he was there to open it for her. She knew her expression was openly skeptical as she secured the vehicle and dug her gym bag out of the trunk.
“I’ll take that for you.” With an easy manner, he reached out and took the duffel from her fast freezing fingers. She stiffened as his hand brushed hers and her bemused expression set him off on a new round of laughter.
“What’s the matter now?” he teased. “Never met a gentleman before?”
She rolled her eyes and gave him her best “what do you think”, one-sided smirk. In all her thirty-six years, she’d never met a man who held doors, pulled out chairs or offered to carry her bag. Or set her blood pulsing in her ears, and sent butterflies winging up and down her spine. And the simmering, appreciative looks he’d passed her way over dinner. Lord, it was too much.
“May I see you to your room, Carinian?”
Hell no.
She just didn’t think she could continue to act right if he got anywhere near her room. But by the time she’d managed to stutter out all her arguments they were standing in front of her door.
Bix set her gym bag on the typical hotel-brown carpet, reached out and gently took her by the hand. She looked down to where his fingers stroked hers, liking the contrast between his lightly tanned skin and her darker cocoa tones.
“Carin?”
“Yes?” she answered absently, her mind focused on the slightly rough skin of the palm holding hers securely. And what happened to the formal Carinian of only a few seconds ago? The more informal he became the more her goose bumps came out to play. What was up with that?
“May I kiss you good night?”
Always the gentleman. She nodded and waited anxiously as his head descended at a leisurely pace, like one big slow-motion picture. When he finally reached her lips she was almost giddy with anticipation, wondering what his gorgeous mouth would feel like, taste like.
He pulled her close and took her lips in a sweet caress. The kiss began innocent enough, but she knew,
knew
he wanted more than a chaste meeting of the mouths. He wanted to deepen the kiss, to ravish her. To press her up against the wall as his blood pounded through his body.
Now how the hell did she know that?
His hands slipped from her waist up to her shoulders and held her there a moment before he broke away, his breathing harsh and unsteady.
Bix couldn’t believe the tremendous amount of effort it took to hold himself in check. He wanted nothing more than to rip her clothes off and take her right there in the hallway up against her door, and then hold her to his heart while his fingers tenderly stroked through the cottony curls at the nape of her neck. To softly kiss a path down the side of her neck, reveling in her natural scent as he made his way to her pulse point. He locked his knees to keep them from shaking as he forced his body to obey his mind. God, his fangs throbbed and hummed beneath their sheaths. The fine tendons that controlled their movement pulled taut, begging him to bare them, to sink them along with his throbbing cock deep into the sweet depths of her body.
What was it about this woman that made him want to rut like some untamed animal, then treat her with such tenderness? It was damned strange.
And sexually frustrating
.
He bid her good night, licked his lips and grinned at the dreamy-eyed look on her face. With a gentle kiss to her palm, he stepped away and strode down the hall. For the first time in his life, Bix wished he wasn’t well-endowed. His damned dick rubbed painfully against his zipper as Carin’s loudly projected thoughts followed him down the hallway.
You’re so sexy. Stay and make love with me.
Twice he almost stopped and gave in to her unvoiced wishes. Her next thought slammed into his brain and his back stiffened in anger as his feet ground to a halt.
What would be the harm? I’ll never see you again in my life anyway.
What? Anger welled up in his gut, sudden and fierce. A feral growl erupted from his throat as he whirled around and glared back towards her hotel room door. It closed with a quiet snap and he stood there a moment just to make sure she stayed inside, alone. The urge to scout the hotel for any other male vamp in the vicinity overwhelmed him. Not an ideal inclination for an undercover Seeker.
Bix’s mouth dropped open as he looked down at himself in alarm. His chest was puffed up, his teeth bared and his lips pulled back tightly at these sudden feelings of possessiveness. His fangs had slipped free and were visible to anyone who might happen to walk down the hall. Was he in someone else’s skin? He hadn’t bared his fangs “accidentally” in, what, a hundred years? What the hell was going on?
Walking the short distance to his own door, he dug down into his jacket pocket for the keycard to his room as he thought on Carin’s last words.
The woman thinks she’ll never see me again, eh? We’ll just see about that.
Chapter Three
Before he could close the door to his unexceptional hotel room, his cell phone rang. He knew it wasn’t Carin calling him back. The special ring tone identified the caller as a member of V.C.O.E.—the Vampire Council of Ethics.
He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it carelessly over the only chair in the room, and then sat on the edge of the bed and toed off his shoes before answering. A silky sweet voice reminiscent of smooth jazz music floated across the line to him. The voice was deep for a woman, but sensual. It fit her perfectly. Too bad Bix couldn’t stand the bitch.
“Have you acquired the target?”
Bix ground his back teeth on a deep breath and ignored the implied insult. God, he didn’t feel like doing this right now.
“You will not question me, Natasha. I’m more than capable of doing my job. In fact,” he said for probably the fiftieth time, “I’ve been dressing without my mother’s aid for quite a long time. Longer than you’ve been alive, actually.”
“Now, now, Jon. You’re getting testy in your old age,” Natasha purred. “As the V.C.O.E. Liaison for the Western territories, I’m just doing my job. You know that, don’t you, lover?”
Lover? Would she ever give up? Resting his elbows on his knees, he stretched his neck from side to side and forced his body to relax. When he tuned back in to the voice on the cell phone it was droning on about some boring piece of nothing or another. He took charge of the conversation with his annoying Liaison and brought it back to business.