A lesson? You call that teaching me something? You scared me to death.
“You should be afraid. When a hunter demands something of you, it is for a reason. Usually life and death are involved. Better you remember for all time than to ever hesitate.”
And Julio? You looked as if you intended to kill him.
Her eyes had gone wide, dark, enormous, those feathery lashes fluttering nervously. But she didn’t look away. His body reacted to her question, his muscles coiled, something deadly moving across his soul. Her mind softened when she thought of Julio. She had warmth in her mind, complete trust. Things that should only be there for one man—her mate—not some childhood friend.
His gaze remained locked on hers. He would tell his woman only the truth. “It is not reasonable for a man to allow other males around his woman. The animals in the jungle do not tolerate such things.”
He watched carefully as she caught her breath. She wasn’t dim-witted by any means. He was telling her she belonged to him and the understanding was in that quickly veiled expression. She was silent a moment, her eyes searching his for that something elusive he didn’t know how to give—would never know how to give.
We are not jungle animals.
He wanted there to be no mistakes between them. No misunderstanding. “I am.”
She shook her head in silent denial, but she recognized the killer in him.
“You know what I am, Marguarita. I cannot be anything other than what I am.”
She blinked. Swallowed. Moistened her lips.
It is a good thing I am not your woman.
He ran his hand down the dark silken fall of her hair and was surprised at the gentleness with which he touched her—and the strange softening inside of him. “You know that is not true.”
She took a breath, and he once again smelled fear, but this time, it was tinged with something else—interest perhaps. She was not completely immune to him and it disturbed her.
I am a servant pledged in your service, señor.
“There is more than servant and master between us as much as you wish to deny it. But for now, that will do. I do not want you to fear my taking your blood. I will be more careful of your fragility.”
She blinked several times and would have stepped away but he glided closer, without seeming to move, blocking her escape. Her eyes mesmerized him, going from that sparkling champagne to a dark warm chocolate. The difference was striking to him. “I believe you were about to drink your tea and eat your meal.”
She glanced at the food on the counter and shook her head. He got the immediate impression of cold. He waved his hand and steam rose from the cup as well as the plate. Her smile was tentative and almost shy, but he found the contrast of her decidedly pink lips and white teeth beautiful. Her eyes were fully brown now, the color rich and melting. Now he could see intriguing flecks of gold. The gold could have been the stars in the midnight sky of her eyes earlier, sparkling like diamonds before he could discern the true color.
She picked up the teacup and plate and he stepped back, giving her just enough room that she would have to brush his body as she made her way to the table. She was careful, her hand trembling just a bit as she set the stoneware down. He knew he would always see every nuance, the smallest detail, stay focused and aware of her every movement, right down to the flutter of her eyelashes.
She sat down and watched him for a moment, still nervous, as if she were trapped in a cage with a great jungle cat. He prowled closer, unable to resist a rumbling growl, knowing her eyes would go wide, and then she would smile at him. It came, that slow, melting smile that seemed to ripple through his body, gentle at first, and then gathering force until she was all heat and fire rushing straight to his groin.
She took a sip of tea. Stop doing that. You do it to scare me.
For the first time, the impression of laughter was strong, filling his mind. It wasn’t just tentative amusement. He had been the one to deliberately tease her and she’d responded. He found great satisfaction in knowing she was aware he’d been teasing her. It was one of a million concepts he’d never understood before, but he wanted her smile and he had to do something to get past her fear.
“You are not really that afraid of me right now,” he declared, and continued to stalk through the room.
The kitchen was spacious enough that he had plenty of room, but he had rarely—if ever—spent any real time inside an enclosure other than a mountain, and the walls felt inhibiting to him. He couldn’t scent the air. He couldn’t continually gather information.
What is it that has you on edge? The shadowed flock?
He stopped moving abruptly. He found it interesting that she had known the birds were tainted by evil and that they’d crossed her mind just after he’d been thinking of them in conjunction with the shadows permeating his own mind and body.
“I am unused to being indoors. Does it bother you to have me moving around?”
She took a bite of her egg, watching him carefully. Eventually she shook her head. You look very powerful and you tend to dominate the room. I think I’m getting a little more used to you and the fluid way you move, like a hunter.
“I am a hunter.” He wanted to get accustomed to her ways. There was grace in her hand gestures. In the tilt of her head and the way she sat. He liked the quiet rustle of her skirts and the way her thick hair cascaded like a silken waterfall down her back to her narrow waist. Her hair fascinated him. It seemed so alive, always moving, shimmering, the colors deepening the longer he was in her company.
Are we going to be attacked? The birds were looking for you, weren’t they?
He read fear for the others. He could see she refused to think about what was going to happen to her. More than anything else, he read fear for him. She was afraid for him and that made no sense. She should want him to lead vampires far from her and the hacienda, but he could see her reluctance for him to be found. He even caught the impression of himself in the ground, as if he should hide.
He forced himself to cross the room and pull out a chair opposite her. “Do you really wish to know the truth of the birds? Of the De La Cruz family? If you ask me, I will give you truth, so be careful what you wish for.”
She took another sip of tea, studying his face thoughtfully over the rim. Her gaze had gone very serious and in her mind, he felt her weigh his words. Her nod was slow, but quite firm.
“After the attack on you, it was discovered that the masterminds behind the plot to assassinate the prince of the Carpathian people had gathered an army together and they intended to carry out their battle plan against the prince, testing their plans first on one of my family’s properties. We were convinced—and we were correct—in thinking it would be on our largest holding in Brazil. Most of my family and their lifemates are gathered there and it was a logical place to try to get us all in one sweep.” He bared his teeth. “They did not expect me to be present.”
She moistened her lips. Parted them. He lost his train of thought. She blinked several times. Her eyelashes were a thick, long feathery sweep he found himself admiring. He’d never really noticed such details on another being. She frowned at him, her winged eyebrows drawing in, little lines appearing for an instant and dissolving as the indentation in her right cheek was prone to do when her smile faded.