X

Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

“What are we going to do about these people stalking Desari?” Tempest asked as she snuggled into the curve of Darius’s arm.

He looked down at her, his mouth brushing her forehead tenderly. “We? What is this ‘we’? As I understand it, the society’s first objective is to acquire you. You are going to do exactly what you promised and obey me to the letter.”

“Actually,” Tempest said calmly, ignoring his ruthless tone, “I thought Cullen Tucker said that the society considered Julian a vampire for certain. I would say he was their first target.”

“Security is a matter for the men, Tempest, not for you. From now on, you will do as I say and stay out of trouble.”

Tempest was drowsy, content to lie in his arms and smile up at the black fury gathering in his eyes. Idly she touched his mouth, a feather-light caress tracing the perfection of his lips. “I do love your mouth,” she admitted before she could censor the words.

Darius found he was instantly distracted from his anger. One touch from her and he couldn’t remember his own name, let alone his lecture. He kissed her hard, possessively, taking his time to explore her sweetness, to show her exactly where she belonged. When he lifted his head, her emerald eyes were bemused, beautiful, and so sexy that he found himself groaning aloud.

“Rest while I fix you something to eat,” he ordered.

Her long lashes swept down, her velvet soft lips just asking to kissed again. Darius had to look away from her or he wouldn’t have the strength to leave her.

She caught at his hand. “I’m really not hungry, Darius. Don’t bother fixing anything. It will only be a waste of time. In fact, I feel slightly sick.”

Guilt swept him. It was his fault she was having trouble eating. He touched her face, his heart melting. “You will eat what I fix, honey. I will ensure it stays down.” But he was talking to himself; she was already asleep.

Darius spent a few minutes staring down at her, absorbing the rhythm of her breathing into his body. His life. It came down to that. This delicate, fragile creature was his entire life, his entire world. He needed to take better care of her, pay greater attention to her health and safety. Tempest seemed to go from one crisis to the next. He would have to put his foot down, get her under some semblance of control. She would start by taking naps in the evening hours to build up her strength.

Absently Darius fashioned a pair of jeans and pulled them on, carelessly buttoning them as he padded on bare feet to the door of the bus. The leopards were off in the forest, and he prompted the animals to return to the safety of their camp. As he opened the door, the night breezes washed over him, carrying scents and sounds from miles around.

At once his black eyes became flat and merciless. A low hiss escaped as he exhaled sharply. The enemy had found them. Not one or two but, if his acute sense of smell had not failed him, a virtual army surrounded them. The men were moving slowly through the forest, ringing the campsite. He smelled their fear, their adrenaline, their sweat. He smelled their excitement. He read their intentions, their eagerness for the kill.

A low growl rumbled in his throat in response to the threat. He was anchored to the trailer and Tempest, unable to act as he would had he been alone. A snarl lifted his lip, revealing lengthened canines. The truth was simple. He welcomed the fight. He had had enough of the threats to his family, and his way had always been one of action. He sent out the eerie call of the leopard, warned the others of the danger, and turned to wake Tempest.

She surprised him, listening to his explanation and donning the clothes he provided almost without question. “Do you have any weapons in here?” she finally asked.

His eyebrows shot up. “As in guns?” he prompted.

She laughed. “I’m from the streets, Darius. Don’t let the fact that I was attacked a couple of times fool you. I was blindsided. If you don’t see it coming, it’s a little hard to defend yourself.”

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154

Categories: Christine Feehan
Oleg: