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Unfortunately, based on her observation of life, that was a true statement. “What’s permanent, Caleb?”

His eyes flashed a metallic gray, and he drew her toward him. Tension crackled through the room. “This.”

Warm and firm, his lips covered hers. Burning hotter than possible, lava flowed through her veins, through her flesh. His touch singed her with need and hunger.

She moaned and pressed against him, her free hand spreading across the hard muscles in his chest. They vibrated beneath her palm, sending matching vibrations straight to her sex.

The hand in her hair tangled, tightened, angling her head to the side. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting of mint and male. All Caleb.

Timidly, she brushed her tongue against his.

His chest drew in a deep breath, rising against her hand. With a low growl, he went deeper, sending her senses reeling. His body met hers, trapping her hand, as he leaned her against the armrest of the sofa.

Her head spun, while liquid need spread through her. Want and need combusted into a hunger that caught her unaware. Unprepared.

All she could do was feel.

Her head hit the armrest, and he yanked her hips under him, covering her, groin to groin.

Fire unfurled in her abdomen, and her sex clenched.

Hard. He was so hard. Neither her pants nor his jeans were a barrier to his heated shaft. He pulsed against her, so full, so ready. Every movement sent electricity through her, making her crave him with a desperation she’d never felt.

He tore his mouth from hers, placing heated kisses along her jawline to her ear, where he bit down.

She gasped, her eyes widening.

Pausing, he levered himself above her, his eyes now bright with metallic colors. Brighter than normal. “I can’t treat you like some breakable doll, Lily. If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

Hope and need flushed through her. “Please don’t treat me like I’m breakable.” The plea came from deeper than the moment, deeper than her consciousness. For once in her life, she needed to be real. To be a woman. A woman with Caleb.

A dark flush highlighted his dangerous cheekbones. Then a smile full of sin curved his lips. “I promise.” Twin fangs dropped low, and quick as a whip, he sank them into her neck.

She cried out, her body arching, an unbelievable need reducing her to a craving too dark to withstand. Yanking her hand free, she reached around him to caress his flanks. So strong, so male, so muscled. Even for a vampire, the rebel’s hardness was extraordinary.

The fleeting thought occurred to her that by biting her, he could mate her. If they were joined, and if she wasn’t suffering from the devastating virus. As things stood, there’d be no mating, and that was a good thing. Talk about complications.

Even so, as he drank, such need cascaded from him that her breath deserted her. He rolled his hips against her cleft, and she bit her lip to keep from begging. The devastating ache between her legs overwhelmed her.

Slowly, with a hum of appreciation, he retracted his fangs and licked the wound closed. “You really do taste like strawberries.” Wonder and a deep hunger roughened his voice.

For the first time, she wished she could be a vampire. Could taste him. So she settled for the next best thing and licked her way up the corded muscles in his neck. Man and salt . . . all Caleb. She’d had dreams of him, of licking him, of tasting him. The reality was better than any dream.

He kissed her again, going deep, spiraling her body into overdrive. Finally, he released her. Quickly standing with the grace of any shifter, he leaned down and lifted her.

The world spun and then settled in incredibly strong arms.

His lips wandered over her forehead. “Please stay, Lily.”

She gulped in air, mentally listing the reasons she should return to her suite. Not only was this a bad idea, but the timing stank. She’d always been proper, always been a lady. Ladies didn’t do this kind of thing. But the urgent cloud of doubt and despair that had been swirling around her had finally abated. For the briefest of moments, she felt peace. For once, destiny quieted and allowed her to be a real, flesh-and-blood woman. In Caleb’s arms.

As he awaited her acquiescence, his eyes remained bright, swirling with secondary colors, the color a vampire’s eyes turned when he was furious or aroused, and only one answer came to Lily’s mind.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered.

Chapter Six

At the simple words, a rush of energy burst through Caleb with more force than an angry storm. Lily Sotheby, the woman he’d wanted for centuries, had just said yes. The untouchable just became touchable.

He strode toward the bedroom before she could change her mind. Oh, if she did, he’d let her go. But he’d probably combust at that point.

At least he wouldn’t have to be a prophet any longer if he exploded. His lips twitched.

Intrigue filled her eyes as a slight smile curved her lips. “What’s amusing you?”

He glanced down, his chest hitching at her open smile. “The last time I felt this desperate for a woman, I was young—barely an adult.”

She hummed and ran a soft hand across his chest. “Lucky woman.”

He started, his heart beating hard enough she had to be able to feel it. “It was you, Lil. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted badly enough to burn.”

Her eyes widened and then softened. “The things you say.”

“Always the truth. For you.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead, trying to be gentle.

“I know,” she murmured, leaning into him. “I’m, ah . . .”

He frowned, gently laying her on the bed. “Second thoughts?” God, please don’t let her want to leave. Not now. Not when they were finally so close.

“ No.”

At the one word, an unnoticed constriction around his chest released. “Then what?”

Her gaze wandered down his torso and seemed to hitch at his jeans. “It’s been a while, Caleb. And frankly, I mean, I never . . .” The blush blooming across her delicate features moved down her neck. “But I want to,” she said in a rush of energy as if trying to reassure him.

How was it possible that a woman who’d seen war, who’d counseled so many victims, could be so damn sweetly innocent? He took a deep breath. “You’re not a virgin, Lily. It’s okay.”

“I know. But my marriage was short, and while Sotheby was a good man, he wasn’t”—her hand swept along Caleb’s body—“you.”

Yeah, he had a bit of an ego, because that warmed him throughout. He almost felt like it was his first time. “I won’t hurt you.”

“But you could.” She sat up, her blond hair swishing around. “And I don’t mean physically.” Her head tilting down, those delicate hands reaching for the zipper of his jeans. “You’re in my heart, rebel. Always have been.” Slowly, she released his zipper. “We could hurt each other, and you know it.”

The second she released his cock, it became too late to consider consequences. “I know.” He tilted up her chin to meet her gaze. “All hell is about to break loose with the peace talks, and I want this night. I want you.”

Her pink tongue flicked out to lick her bottom lip, and he groaned. “Why do hell and peace go together?” she asked softly.

The philosophical question was beyond him. Slowly, so as not to spook her, he reached down and slid her shirt over her head, his thumbs gliding along her smooth skin. Heat spiraled down his spine, stealing his breath.

Small and firm, her breasts were created for his palms. Planting his hand between the tempting mounds, he pushed. She fell onto her back with a small chuckle that hitched when he yanked off her yoga pants.