Dark Challenge. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 5

“I cannot.”

“Then I must stay here and convince you,” he said unhurriedly, calmly. As if his death weren’t imminent at the hands of her protective family.

She clutched his arm. “You must go before this thing escalates into violence. Please, Julian.”

He could hear her heart beating wildly. He bent his head to hers, his mouth curving into a genuine smile. “Come to me. Promise you will meet me at the small tavern three blocks from here.”

There was a loud popping sound from the other side of the door, and someone—it sounded like Barack—swore aloud. They could both hear Darius reprimand him softly, “I told you not to touch the door. Have some respect.” His voice was low and hypnotic. “Desari?” He didn’t raise his voice but rather dropped it to a whisper. “Open the door for us.”

“Go out the window,” Desari insisted, pushing at the wall of Julian’s chest. It was a mistake to touch him; he instantly responded by covering her hand with his, trapping her palm against his heavy muscles.

“I came through the door, cara, and I intend to leave the same way. Do you meet me later, or shall we stay together here?”

She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her palm. Steady. Solid. Not in the least affected by the fact that he was hunted by three powerful predators just a door’s width away. His thumb was feathering back and forth across the back of her hand, feeding the flames already leaping in her body. Desperately Desari attempted to shake him off. He was a rock, unmoving. “What am I going to do with you?” she demanded.

“Say you will meet me. Do not allow your brother to rule your life.” He could smell the leopards now, knew they had joined the three men and were pacing restlessly in the hall.

Desari knew it, too. “All right. I promise,” she capitulated. “Just go before something terrible happens.”

He bent his head and brushed her soft, trembling mouth with his. It was the lightest of kisses, but a gentle lingering, yet she felt it touch her heart, her soul. He smiled at her, his golden eyes burning with molten heat. With need. “So, piccola, open the door.”

Desari’s fingers curled in his cotton T-shirt. “No, you do not understand. You cannot go out there.”

“Remember your promise to me, Desari. Come to me.” Julian bent his head one last time to her because he had to. She smelled fresh and clean, a breath of air from the highest mountains he loved so. Her skin was softer than rose petals. His body was making harsh urgent, relentless demands. Julian controlled them, but he needed to touch her, to feel her response, to feel the burning flames in her matching the firestorm in him. For he was on fire.

His mouth found hers. Hot. Demanding. Dominating. His hand went to the nape of her neck, holding her perfectly still so he could explore her sweetness. He was lost instantly, feeding on her, his posture aggressive. His arms swept her into the shelter of his body, so close it was impossible to tell where one started and the other left off.

A rumbling growl from outside the door had Desari struggling, pushing at him, her eyes wide with fear for him. “He will kill you. Please, please go while you can.”

She looked so beautiful, for a moment he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Slowly a smile took the edge of hunger from his mouth. “Come to me, cara. I will keep you to your promise.” His hand slid slowly, reluctantly from the nape of her neck, and he stepped away.

“Desari.” It was Darius’s soft, compelling voice. “He has safeguarded the door against us. Only you are safe from its harm. You must open the door for us. Once you touch it, you will break his spell, and we will be allowed entry. Do as I bid.”

Desari watched as Julian’s solid form shimmered, then dissolved into nothing. She looked around quickly. He had to be something. Somewhere. Her frantic gaze searched her dressing room. There was no mist. Nothing. She walked to the door, her hand hovering over the knob. Where could he have gone? He had not left by way of the window. It was still closed tightly, the blinds drawn.