Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Could it be that simple? Did she believe she was dreaming the whole thing? Darius brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth. He was smiling as he kissed her knuckles. Her hand was still bruised from her fight earlier in the day. Without conscious thought, he stroked his tongue over the dark purple-and-blue mark. Sleep, baby. Sleep deep, and worry about nothing. Allow your body to heal.

Good night, Darius. Don’t you worry so much about me. I’m like a cat: I always land on my feet.

* * *

Chapter Four

Tempest woke slowly, as if emerging through a layer of hazy clouds. She was sore, every muscle protesting when she moved, yet not nearly as much as she had expected. She sat up, looking warily around her. Her body was alive with feeling, her skin sensitive beyond belief. She remembered the horror of the attack on her like a vague nightmare. What was vivid and sharp, every detail imprinted forever in her mind, was the memory of Darius’s tongue caressing every bruise, taking away her pain and fear, replacing it with erotic, burning pleasure. She wanted to believe that one was a nightmare and the other a romantic dream, but Tempest always looked reality in the face. It was how she lived, how she survived. She might lie to someone else if it was necessary but never to herself. The things Darius had done in her dream world were all too real. She had been in some kind of a trance, half awake, half asleep. And they had talked to one another using only their minds, in much the same way she communicated with animals, only using words, not just images. Telepathy.

She took a deep breath and looked around her. She was alone in the luxurious motor home except for the two leopards, who each opened a sleepy eye at her stirring but did not seem inclined to get up. Tempest pushed a hand through her hair. Should she strike out on her own or take her chances with whatever kind of creature she had stumbled onto?

She hadn’t had much luck with humans and had always preferred the company of animals. Last night, when her mind had connected with Darius’s, she had recognized his brain patterns as being like an animal’s in many respects. He had highly developed instincts and senses like those of the leopard. She knew he was a formidable hunter, but she had detected no evil in him.

Darius could have killed her anytime he wanted. He could have used her for food, if that was what these creatures did. But he hadn’t done either. He had come after her when she was in trouble. He had treated her gently and compassionately. And he had tenderly attempted to heal her bruised body and take away the worst of her memories. The cost had not been small to him. Darius wanted her. She had felt the burning heat in him. She had been all but helpless, yet he hadn’t acted on the demands of his body. She had felt his enormous energy drain out of him and into her while he was healing her. He had been extremely tired after using his great strength to ease her suffering, and she had even felt a gnawing, biting, insatiable hunger, his mind merging with hers until she was uncertain where her feelings left off and his began.

She sighed and pushed at the hair falling loose from the thick braid he had woven. No one ever had treated her as Darius had. He was kind and thoughtful, even tender, but for all that he wasn’t an easy man to be around. Especially when she was so used to being on her own. His arrogance, his complete confidence in himself and his abilities, had a tendency to set her teeth on edge. Obviously he was accustomed to deference to his every wish. She was accustomed to being utterly independent. She bit at her lip, her teeth scraping back and forth as she thought it out.

Darius wasn’t just arrogantly expecting obedience from her. It was far more than that. Hard possession lit the depths of his eyes, gave them a burning intensity, revealing a hunger only for her. “No, way, Rusti,” she whispered aloud to herself. “That maniac is used to protecting and controlling everyone around him, so don’t let your hormones start running away with you. And vampires are out of the question. You didn’t want to get together with the neighborhood pimp; I don’t think this is a much better choice. You have to leave. Vamoose. Run. Get out.”