Slade Page 13

  Holding the door handle, aligning his forearm to the flat surface, he smiled tauntingly, the image of what could have happened to her not leaving his mind. “Make me.”

  “Do you think I can’t?”

  The muscles in her thighs tensed deliciously against his. “You’re welcome to try.”

  Leaning in, he bent his knees slightly so his torso fit along the length of hers. Her curves snuggled nicely into the hollows of his body. The puff of air she released in surprise breezed across his throat and shivered down his nerve endings. “But it won’t do you much good.”

  “Want to bet?”

  A challenge in the midst of fear. The woman had style. Slade had often wondered about his brothers’ fascination with their wives, but experiencing it firsthand with Jane, he didn’t know how Caleb had kept his hands off Allie as long as he had, how Jace had endured the loss of Miri, and now he fully understood how Jared’s love for Raisa made years of hatred disappear like water under the bridge. There was something purifying about finding one’s mate. Something that wiped the slate clean and recentered priorities. An illogical thought for a very logical man. Caressing her cheek with the back of his finger, he murmured. “But in the end, when it comes to things you don’t understand, that’s how it’s going to be.”

  “Then you’d better get damn good at explanations on the fly.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. The woman acted as if safe was all she wanted, but when faced with backing down or rising to the challenge, she rose. As did he. As did any Johnson. Which made her about perfect. Except for the fact that she was human and he was vampire and without conversion they had no future, but that critical difference didn’t stop Slade from wanting to engage her brain, or her lips. Those soft, supple lips that burned the longing for the forbidden into his soul. He wanted that burn again. Him for her. Her for him. It could never be reality, but in this moment before he lost her to the research waiting beyond that door, he wanted the illusion. He tipped up her chin.

  “What are you doing?”

  “If you can’t tell, I’ve lost my touch.”

  She rolled her eyes, provoking a genuine smile. “Now is not the time for kissing.”

  “Name a better one.”

  Without hesitation, she snapped, “On my front porch after an intimate dinner in a wonderful restaurant known for its chocolate mousse.”

  She had him there. “Hell, that would be better.”

  “So let’s get moving.”

  Slight pressure from his fingertips drew her closer. So close. “Not yet.”

  With another roll of the eyes she muttered, “A kiss is merely a meeting of mouths. It proves nothing and wastes time.”

  “There’s always time for a kiss.”

  “Are you back to that mate thing again? An intelligent man like you has to realize that predestined mates doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.”

  “Yup.” He pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, savoring the flex in her energy as his skin grazed hers. She was as aware of him as he was of her. “Makes no sense at all.”

  “I do not like you like this.”

  The frown deepened at that. He smoothed his thumb over the pleats between her brows, watching the supple skin relax, hiding the truth in his eyes. He was a sucker for the impossible.

  The first subtle tease of her desire slid over his. “Yes, you do.”

  Pushing against his chest, she grumbled, “Not like this.”

  The halfhearted protest would have been more believable if she hadn’t stopped pushing, hadn’t slid her hands over his shoulders, hadn’t curved her fingertips in, hadn’t pulled that tiniest bit. Hadn’t stolen the last of his good intentions. “Oh yeah, especially like this.”

  “That’s contrary . . .”

  No, it was a betrayal of what should be, what could be, but it was what he had and he was damn sick of having nothing but lab equipment in his hands. “No, sweetness. It’s us.”

  And it was no good. Even if she was one of those rare humans that could be converted, he wouldn’t do that to her. He’d promised.

  Slade shook away the thought before dipping his mouth to Jane’s, feeling, even before his mouth touched hers, her passion reach out to tempt his, tugging him closer, leading him deeper. It was what it was, and it was too easy to take advantage of the protest that parted her lips, to slip his tongue between, to know his desire blended perfectly with hers. To know that, with the slightest push from his mind, he could have what he wanted. Her compliance. Her obedience. Her. The bite of her nails into the nape of his neck stung in an erotic invitation. Hell, he wasn’t a saint. He’d take this.

  “Slade.”

  He accepted with a low growl. She responded with a shivery moan. Sliding his hand around her waist, he pulled her tighter into his embrace. A spike of passion and fear flooded his senses, arcing from her to him in a demand for more. He gave it to her, opening his mind to hers. Her lashes fluttered against his cheek, her muscles tightened. The fear intensified. Too much. It was too much for her. He had to pull back. Away from all that feminine sweetness, from that connection that went so much deeper than the physical.

  “You’re afraid.”

  “Not of sex. Sex is easy. It’s what comes after that’s hard.”

  “Then don’t think of after.”

  For two heartbeats the tension lingered, but then she relaxed into the kiss, her tongue met his—teased, stroked, encouraged. He growled again when her foot rubbed up his calf. Hell, had he thought that “don’t think” or had he projected it? Shit, did he even care?

  Cupping the back of her head in his hand, he held her to him, to the power of their attraction. He wouldn’t scare her, but he wasn’t going to let her run away, either. This was them together. Turbulence. Heat. Uncertainty. It had nothing to do with logic, but it was still good.

  Jane’s nails dug into his chest, pinpoints of erotic potential. Within her, the tension increased. A thought penetrated the maelstrom of emotion pummeling him.

  Can’t breathe.

  Groaning, he left her mouth. She needed to breathe. He could give her a moment to catch her breath. There were other pleasures he could indulge. Like exploring the smooth hollow beneath her ear. Her scent was stronger there, holding the faintest hint of her favorite perfume, a spicy mix of floral and cinnamon. Inhaling, he touched his tongue to the pulse point, adding her flavor to the mix sinking into his bones with that particular sense of rightness that only came with her. She jumped.

  “Easy girl. This is right.”

  “Let me go,” she gasped even as her nails dug into his chest, raking in unconscious eroticism as he took her earlobe between his teeth and bit down gently.

  “You don’t really want me to.”

  “That’s an incredibly arrogant thing to say.”

  There was a bit more strength in her voice. She really didn’t understand vampires. “I can feel your emotions, sweetness. I know how much you’re anticipating my mouth.”

  She went stiff in his arms and braced against him. “Stop.”

  He didn’t want to stop. Here in the cool embrace of the night, he wanted to move the collar of her shirt out of the way, cut the buttons from her blouse, expose her breasts to his eyes, his mouth.

  “I’m warning you, Slade.”

  Even her human growl struck him as sexy.

  “One more inch and you’ll never kiss me again.”

  He stopped immediately, torn between laughter and a groan. He rested his forehead against hers. “Hell, sweetness, it’s not fair, pulling out a big-gun threat like that.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I can see that.” Which was why he’d put a few inches between them, willing his vampire under wraps, trying for something he hadn’t had in a long time. A human’s concept of limits. “I’m more curious as to why.”

  “Because, one, I’m not here as some sort of vicarious thrill for the other men to get off on.”

  He glanced out of the corner of his eye. Shit, there wer
e wolves watching. Not with the vicarious lust she worried about, but with the amusement of a species that regarded the finding of a mate as one of the most perfect moments in a man’s life—and they cut him a lot of slack as a result. “And two?”

  Not by a flick of a lash did Jane’s gaze flinch from his. “I don’t like being forced.”

  “Good, because I don’t believe in forcing women.”

  “Then what do you call what happened between us just now?”

  Her lips were rosy from his kiss, her breath still caught, and her pupils still dilated and she had to ask? “Desire.”

  The second syllable didn’t even get past his tongue before she was shaking her head. “I’m not like that.”

  It didn’t matter what had been before. Only what was now. “Maybe not with others.”

  She blinked at him, her lips pressing to a thin line. The scent of fear tinged the air. Not the arid release of adrenaline but the kind that said it scared her that she felt that way about him. Good. She should be scared. He grabbed the door handle.

  He sent a sequence of energy pulses to the lock on the door. The lock gave and the door opened. He caught her when she would have stumbled backward. “What part bothers you more, being out of control, or being out of control with me?”

  After a slight pause, she pulled her coat tightly around her and turned, head up, shoulders set, and entered the lab.

  “Both.”

  The wolves laughed. Slade flipped them off before following, a smile tugging his lips. At least she was honest.

  HONESTY was about the only thing Slade had to be grateful for in the next hour. Jane in the lab was different from Jane out of the lab. Jane in the lab was confident, particular, one might even say bitchy in her need for order.

  She pointed to the left. “That needs to be over there.”

  There was absolutely no reason for the refrigerator to be anywhere but where it was. But then again, there hadn’t been any reason for the ten other things she declared inappropriately placed to be moved, other than that Jane wanted it.

  “Why?” He asked the question more to pull her out of her single-minded focus than because of any actual concern. She barely spared him a glance as she turned and studied the lab. No doubt looking for something more to move. “Because it makes more sense.”

  “Of course.”

  Jane turned back, narrowing her eyes. “Was that sarcasm?”

  Slade bent and unplugged the refrigeration unit. “Nice of you to notice.”

  Her eyes narrowed further. “That was definitely sarcasm.”

  The unit wheeled easily across the smooth tile floor. “Might be because I’m irritated.”

  He had to move the workstation that fit the unit. Metal screeched across tile as he gave it a shove.

  “Why?”

  The way her arms folded across her chest clearly said she knew why. The refrigeration unit fit neatly in the space. “Because I’m humoring you.”

  “I told you that I am particular about my lab.”

  The plug was under the adjoining table. He had to lean way in to get the right angle to insert it. “But this is my lab.”

  He glanced up in time to catch a flicker of something across her expression. A second later emotion brushed his in a silent entreaty. Panic?

  She licked her lips. “I can’t work in chaos.”

  He was particular, too, and nothing in his lab was in disarray. “So I gathered.”

  The agreement didn’t relax her any. “I have to have things in order.”

  That emotion was still tapping at his. He took a step toward her. “I told you, I’d give you anything you wanted.”

  She nodded. “To save your nephew.”

  “I don’t remember qualifying it.”

  Her chin snapped up. “I want my freedom.”

  She was still coming out of her skin. That kiss outside might have been a mistake.

  “No.”

  “See, there are limits.”

  To how much she could take. He understood that. Another step, and that push-pull of emotion got stronger. She was scared. She wanted comfort but didn’t want to expose the vulnerability that made her so nervous. He caught her hand as she stepped back. “No, but maybe I should have added a qualifier or two.” A tug and he pulled her away from the stack of sterilized beakers. “Care to share what’s got your bloomers in a knot?”

  “I just like order.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  She licked her lips. “I need the lab organized to work.”

  “I thought that was what we’re doing.”

  He tugged again. The tips of her sneakers bumped the toe of his boots. He slid his hand up her arm. Jane didn’t step away, but the expression on her face fluctuated between indignation and longing. Curling his arm around her back, Slade pulled her forward so that she leaned against his chest.

  “I’m a perfectly competent adult.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He brushed his lips across the top of her head, noting that while she stood stiffly in his arms, she wasn’t pulling away.

  “I don’t need to be coddled.”

  “I know that.”

  “So why are you—”

  “Hugging you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe because I need to be coddled?”

  Her snort was eloquent. Threading his fingers through the silky strands of her hair, he speculated, “Maybe I’m just making excuses to hold you.”

  “Why?”

  The immediacy of that question struck him as significant. “Because you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and you have the most fascinating mind.”

  “You think I’m sexy?”

  Apparently her brilliance was a given, but her sex appeal was up for grabs. “Very sexy.”

  There was the slightest movement of her head, but then she settled her forehead against him as naturally as breathing. “Are men who think they’re vampires hard up?”

  Fisting his fingers in her hair, Slade coaxed her face up. “Any man would count his lucky stars to have you in his arms. You know it and I know it, so don’t be playing that game with me.”

  “If this were a game, the rules would be that I am not most men’s first choice.”

  “Well, you can consider yourself on the highly desired list twenty-four/seven from here on out.”

  Rolling her forehead back and forth, she sighed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re crazy?”

  “A time or two.”

  She licked her lips. “Have they ever mentioned you have the patience of a saint?”

  With another brush of his lips across her hair, Slade eased Jane away. “Maybe I’m just using you as my guinea pig.”

  “Good grief, this is you experimenting?”

  “Don’t sound so appalled.”

  She took a step back. Too many emotions were coming at him too fast for him to sort them out. He had no trouble reading her anger, however.

  “I hate men who are good at everything.”

  Reaching out, he knocked a beaker off the shelf in feigned clumsiness. It shattered with piercing shrillness.

  “There.”

  Jane looked at him, and then the beaker, and then back to him. “What does that prove?”

  He didn’t look away. “That I’m not perfect.”

  Neither did she. “Maybe it could be better if you were.”

  He didn’t have an answer to that.

  “WHERE’D you get this blood?” Jane asked, looking up from the microscope.

  Slade stopped searching the filing cabinet to see which slide she was talking about. “It’s Joseph’s blood.”

  “The other blood is his parents?”

  “His mother and father, just like it’s labeled there.”

  “This isn’t like any blood I’ve ever seen. There are things in there that shouldn’t be there.”

  He sighed and pulled out a folder. “Only if you’re running on the assumption that those are human samples.”

>   “This blood is similar to human, but it has some important species-level differences.”

  He was tempted to flash his fangs. Instead, he smiled a smile that looked as tight as it felt, if her expression was anything to go by. “Yeah.”

  She grimaced. “Vampires are a legend.”

  “Most legend is based in fact.”

  “If this is fact...” She held up the slide. “Then this might hold the key to eternal life.”

  Slade went back to rummaging. “That’s what Sanctuary believes”

  “But Sanctuary members are vampire.”

  He shrugged. “Vampires can be killed.” Pushing the spare chair away from the second filing cabinet with his foot, he clarified. “They’re looking to close that loophole in nature’s law.”

  And God help them all if they succeeded.

  “What, almost being immortal isn’t good enough?”

  “Not for Sanctuary. They’d like to improve on vampirism.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, first off, they’d like to fix it so they can’t be killed. Second, they’d like the ability to create life, not just change it.”

  “So they can have a secret vampire army?”

  “Yes, or maybe they just want to touch base with the humanity they left behind. The best of both worlds. I don’t know.” He pulled another folder out. “Nobody understands Sanctuary.”

  “Have you tried?”

  “You ever tried comprehending what a rabid coyote is going to do?”

  “No, but we’re talking people, not animals.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Nobody’s all bad.”

  Slade took Miri’s file out of the pile and tossed it to the table in front of Jane. Sometimes convincing was better left to pictures. “That’s Miri’s medical file. She’s my brother Jace’s wife.”

  Pulling it toward her, she asked, “Should you be showing this to me?”

  “She wouldn’t care.” He motioned with his hand. “Go ahead. Read. I’ll wait.”

  It was a very thick file compiled from his images and the ones they’d salvaged from the rubble of the stronghold from which Miri had been rescued. Jane opened it tentatively.

  “What you’re reading is her account of what happened to her after being kidnapped by Sanctuary. Backed by the best documentation I could provide in the way of forensic evidence.”