Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

“You can bathe in the pool.” He tried not to make it an order. His body seemed to respond to the merest touch of hers. He didn’t dare start anything with her green eyes blazing fire and her red hair sparking flames.

“Are you giving me your permission?” she asked sarcastically.

He bent his head to hers because she had made that little moue with her lips he could never pass up. His mouth found hers and tasted the warm honey of her even in her anger, capturing it forever in his heart. “No wonder you are always in trouble,” he murmured, his kiss sliding over the corner of her mouth to her dimple, lower still to find her chin, then her throat. Her pulse beat beneath his mouth, igniting his hunger. It came out of nowhere, rushing at him with the same speed and intensity as his body hardened, urging him to take her again and again.

Tempest pulled away, her emerald eyes all at once wary. He was so strong, his power overwhelming, when she had no control at all in the situation. She was his captive, hidden beneath the earth, his to keep for a time if he desired. The idea had not occurred to her until that moment, and it leeched the color from her face instantly. “Darius?” His name came out strangled, a plea for reassurance.

He touched her mind, found her fear easily. His arm encircled her, drew her close to his protection. “As soon as you bathe, we will go to the surface. I need to hum You need food.”

The relief was tremendous, and she believed the purity of his voice. Despite her anger at him, she clung to him for just a moment, waiting for her heart to stop pounding so violently. “Darius,” she confided, “I really am afraid down here.”

Darius tightened his hold on her, crushing her slender body against his. He had not known the real meaning of fear until she had come into his barren existence. She brought that definition to life for him. He feared he would lose her, feared someone or something would harm her. Fear made him edgy and dangerous, like on of the cats in their most unpredictable, moody states.

“All of these things are minor differences we can work out, Tempest,” he assured her. “No obstacle between us is insurmountable.”

She took a deep, steadying breath. “Okay, Darius, I’m all for that. Just don’t be so in control of me. I like my freedom. It’s who I am.”

“Who you are is my other half, as I am yours,” he said

She pulled out of his arms and rose, turning away from him so that she didn’t give in to the urge to kick hi shins. He was so arrogant, spouting his Old-World nonsense, that she wanted to push him into the pool and watch him lose his magnificent and oh, so irritating cool

Darius hid his smile. He couldn’t help saying things just to get under her skin. He liked to watch her eyes glitter like gems, the flash of fire that inadvertently exposed her deeply passionate nature as well as her anger.

Tempest stepped into the pool and found the clear water on her skin more erotic than she would have liked. She knew his black eyes were burning over her as she swam, and something feminine and wild in her seemed to take over. She rinsed her hair out slowly, turning so that her profile was to him, so that the water lapped at her waist and ran down her exposed breasts. Beckoned to him. Taunted him.

With her increased hearing, she caught his muffled swearing. A smile curved her soft mouth, all anger disappearing as she caught sight of his body making demand on him, his arousal impossible to hide from either of them. Deliberately she bent over, rinsing her hair a second time, giving him a good view of the curve of her hips and buttocks. He deserved a little suffering. And she was enjoying herself.

Little red-haired witch. She was deliberately driving him crazy. He knew it. He also knew she was having fun, getting back her feeling of control and power. Darius let out a low, husky groan of frustration. Her answer was a stifled laugh, hastily drowned out by the splashing water. Little minx. A man could take only so much. In any case, hunger was clouding good judgment, and nothing tasted like the rush he got from their erotic encounters. Still, he could not afford to take too much of her blood. Replacing hers with his was a dangerous pastime, altering her in ways he was not completely certain of. The few times over the centuries when he had encountered human women converted, they had become vampire and deranged, feeding on children. He had been forced to destroy them.