“Am I tempting you?”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to be a gentleman? Go away. You’re annoying me.” She stuck her nose in the air.
Her profile in the moonlight took his breath away. With the blanket of darkness enfolding them, they seemed to be the only two people in the world. He drank her in, her scent, that special fragrance that was hers alone. A small, confident smile curved his sensual mouth, casting a sexy shadow across his masculine features. “At least I have your attention.”
“I’m going out dancing,” she asserted.
“You are declaring your independence,” he countered. “It will not do you any good. You belong here, with me. You belong tome. None of those men out there will make you feel as I do.”
She stuck her chin out. “I don’t want them to. You’re so intense, Aidan. Wild and intense. You make me crazy. I just want to feel...” She broke off, unsure how she wanted to feel.
“Normal. Human.” He supplied the words for her.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Youscare the hell out of me.” There. She had admitted it to him. Said it out loud. She glanced away into the night, unable to look at him and not burn for him.
“Your feelings for me scare the hell out of you,” he corrected gently.
“I don’t trust you.” Why was the cab so late? She clenched her fists, not wanting to be alone with him like this. She remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, the taste of him.
“You would trust me if you gave yourself fully to me. Allowed your mind to merge with mine completely. I could hide nothing from you if you wanted to examine it. My memories, my desires.” His voice whispered over her skin, tempted, beckoned.
She glared at him. “As if I haven’t had your desires dancing in my head all night. Thank you very much, Mr. Savage. I don’t intend to become anybody’s slave.”
He groaned, covering his face with his hands. Then his perfect mouth curved into an enticing smile. “Are you going to hold that against me forever? After all, if anyone is a slave here, it is me. I would do anything for you, and I think you know it.”
She bit her lip hard to keep from flinging herself into his arms. “The taxi is here. I’ll be back later.” He was so sexy, and she desperately wanted him.
He touched her as she slipped past him, the lightest of caresses, running a finger down her arm, but she felt it in her deepest core, felt it in her soul. She carried the sensation of his touch with her into the cab.
Chapter Fourteen
The newest hot singles bar was a wild blend of sophistication and sleaze. It made a stab at class by posting bouncers at the entrance to determine who would enter and who would be denied, but it was clear that they took bribes and that any pretty girl was ushered right in. The line was long, but Alexandria ignored it, walking with complete confidence to the door. She had noticed her new effect on people, noticed that her voice enthralled them almost as much as Aidan’s did her.
She smiled at the man standing squarely in her path. His head jerked up, and he sucked in his breath audibly. He didn’t even hesitate, personally escorting her inside. The music assaulted her ears and vibrated through her body. She felt the crush immediately, the press of bodies against her. Mostly she heard their hearts beating, the rush of blood through their veins nearly overwhelming her.
A tall man in dark leather quickly claimed her, catching her wrist, grinning at his find. He had a scruffy beard and smelled of cologne, whiskey, and sweat. His left arm boasted a tattoo of a black widow spider in the center of her web, complete with red hourglass on her belly and a hint of fangs protruding from her mouth. The man leered at her and dragged her close to him. “I been looking for you all night.”
She wanted to feel something besides her rebelling stomach, but he obviously wasn’t her type.
She smiled up into his eyes. “It’s not going to happen,” she said softly, persuasively.
The smile faded from his face, and she could see the latent violence in him. This was a man who didn’t like to be thwarted. His fingers tightened like a vise.
“Let go of me.” She said it calmly, but she wasn’t calm inside. She had somehow counted on enjoying the best of both worlds tonight, thinking whatever creature she had become would protect her from this kind of thing.
The man’s laugh was frankly nasty. “Let’s go outside, babe.” As he made the suggestion into an order by grabbing her wrist, he felt something on his arm. He glanced down and, to his horror, saw his black widow tattoo crawling up his forearm toward his biceps. He could see the fangs clicking angrily, feel its hairy legs on his skin. He froze, then yelled loudly, dropping Alexandria’s wrist, slapping and brushing wildly at his arm.
Alexandria saw nothing but took the opportunity to glide away, disappearing into the crowd.
The man stared down at his arm, gasping heavily, his chest heaving. But the only thing he saw was his tattoo. Nothing moved. He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it wild and disheveled. “I’ve had too much booze, man,” he said to no one in particular.
Alexandria slipped through the throng, her head pounding with the beat of the music. Her blood was hot, but her skin ice-cold. Her stomach seemed to rebel at the bodies she brushed against. A stocky man with chestnut hair and a ready smile touched her shoulder. “Dance with me?”
He was lonely, she could feel it, as well as his deep sadness and near desperation to hold another human being. Without thinking she smiled an assent and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. The moment his arms surrounded her and he pulled her body against his, she knew it had been a mistake. She wasn’t human. She wasn’t what he needed. And his illusion was no more desperate than hers. His desperation was no sadder than her own. Neither of them spoke. She knew his thoughts, his terrible sorrow for the loss of his wife some six months earlier. But she wasn’t Julia, his wife. She wasn’t even the customary, warm body to help him make it through the night. And he wasn’t Aidan, and he never could be.
That last thought struck terror into her soul. Why had she thought that? She could find a man. A human man. It wouldn’t be this one, but there must be someone.
The man stirred. “Come home with me?”
“It isn’t me you want,” she said gently, moving to put a few inches between them.
He tightened his hold, pulling her body into his. “It isn’t me you want either, but we can help each other,” he pleaded, wanting someone to push away the ghosts for a few precious hours.
The smell of his blood called to her. Alexandria’s stomach lurched, and she felt bile rise into her throat. She shook her head adamantly. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” When she went to step away, the music changed to a frantic, driving rhythm that seemed to goad the man to clutch at her. As his arm tightened across her back, static electricity seemed to arc from the floor into his arm, jolting him. He swore and released her immediately. Surprised, Alexandria stepped away. “What happened?”
“You shocked me!” he accused.
“I did?” She inched away from him. Had she inadvertently done so without knowing it? Or had it been an accident? She had no idea, but she was grateful for the timely intervention. She ducked into the whirling, gyrating crowd and made her way across the room, the music beating in her head, through her body.
Alexandria found the bar. Several men in suits parted to allow her access. Their greetings were speculative, hopeful. They seemed nice enough. Some were good-looking. Some even seemed legitimately friendly. But she felt nothing. It was as if she was totally empty inside. Dead.
Suddenly wondering what she was doing, what she was trying to prove to herself, she spun around, leaned her back against the bar, and stared down at her shoes. There was no way around it. She had never been a promiscuous person. It just wasn’t in her. She wasn’t attracted to a man for his looks, and even those who mildly intrigued her, whom she had things in common with, didn’t stir her physically.