After a torturous hour of watching the crowd fawn over the always gracious Nefri, Gabriel at last led them down the stairs to the hidden tunnels beneath the building.
The club didn’t encourage guests to linger during the daylight hours, but there were always spare rooms. Of course, unlike Santiago’s humble establishment, these rooms were the size of most apartments and decorated in soothing shades of gray and silver.
Discreet, expensive, and sophisticated.
Escorting them into the sitting room with a low, velvet sofa and hand-carved coffee table, Gabriel placed a hand over his heart and offered a deep bow. “You’re certain you have everything you need?”
“Absolutely,” Nefri assured him with a warm smile. “This is lovely.”
“Just hit the zero on the phone if you want room service,” Gabriel said, the jaded vampire clearly dazzled by Nefri. “Anything.”
“I will.”
There was a long pause, as if Gabriel was having difficulty tearing himself away, then with a last dip of his head, he backed out of the room and closed the door.
A thick silence filled the air as Santiago moved to the wet bar that came complete with his favorite tequila.
Pouring a large shot, he downed it in one gulp. On the point of pouring another, he was halted when Nefri laid a gentle hand on his arm.
“Santiago?”
His fingers tightened on the glass before he was setting it aside and turning to meet her worried gaze. “Sí?”
“What’s bothering you?”
He shrugged, wishing he’d managed a couple more shots before she’d interfered. He was feeling . . . raw. “Nothing.”
Her brows snapped together. “You’ve barely said a word since we’ve arrived. And you have that”—she gave a wave of her hand—“that broody male thing going on.”
He arched a brow. “Broody male thing?”
“You know what I mean.” She searched his guarded expression. “Something is obviously bothering you.”
“I told you . . . it’s nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought it was a woman’s prerogative to pretend she’s not upset when she clearly is.”
“Ouch,” he muttered.
She moved a step closer, wrapping him in her sweet jasmine scent. “Please, tell me.”
He grimaced. Dammit. He wasn’t a “touchy feely” kind of vampire under the best of circumstances. Unless it was in bed. When his emotions were involved he became as articulate as a grunting orc.
“I sometimes forget,” he eventually muttered.
“Forget what?”
“That you are who you are.”
“Who I am?”
“You’re Nefri,” he said. “A creature of myth and legend.”
She blinked in confusion. “Are you speaking in code?”
He reached up to yank the leather tie from his hair, ramming his fingers through the thick strands in an effort to relieve the tension throbbing in his head. It didn’t help.
“Vampires all over this world would worship at your feet,” he said, his voice rough. “Hell, you’re treated like a queen by a dragon.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s the truth.”
Her lips thinned, as if she was annoyed by his words. “Fine, let’s say for argument’s sake that you’re right. What does that have to do with why you’re treating me like I carry the plague?”
“You are . . .” He struggled for the words.
“What?”
“Way out of my league,” he finally managed to say, expressing the fear that burned deep in his soul.
Without warning Nefri was slapping a hand across his mouth, her eyes snapping with anger. “Don’t you dare.”
He grasped her wrist and gently tugged her fingers from his face. Now that he’d started, he intended to finish.
“We can’t ignore the truth, querida.”
“The truth is that I’m just a vampire with all the flaws and weaknesses of any other,” she claimed, even as she stood there in a blaze of glorious beauty. “I’ve already told you that the Oracles spread rumors to disguise the truth of why they created the Veil.”
He shook his head. Where was she going with this? “And?”
“And the rumors expanded to include me and my clan when we left this world.”
“Your power is no rumor. And neither is your beauty,” he countered. “Gabriel would have sliced open his throat if he thought it would please you.”
Her lips twisted into a humorless smile. “Not me. His vision of who he thinks I am, or at least who I should be.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, a white fang nibbling on the fullness of her lower lip. He stifled a groan at the memory of those cherry lips skimming down his body. He was supposed to be concentrating on the reasons to keep this female at a distance, not dwelling on the devastating pleasure she’d given him.
“Perhaps it’s my fault. Over the centuries it suited me to play the role of the aloof, mysterious clan chief. If people feared me, then it allowed my clan to live in peace away from our enemies.”
He stilled, bothered by the sense that she was apologizing for some sin she’d never committed. At least not as far as he was concerned. “You did what was necessary,” he growled.
“I did more than was necessary.”
“More?”
“I not only used my legendary reputation to keep my enemies at a distance, but everyone.”
He hesitated. He’d been well aware of the distance she kept between herself and others. But he hadn’t been certain if it had been on purpose or simply a defense mechanism.
“Why?”
She held his gaze, for the first time allowing him to truly see the ancient betrayal smoldering in her dark eyes. “Because then I could be absolutely certain no one would ever again use me as a tool for their own gain.”
Before he could halt the need to touch her, Santiago reached to gently cup her face in his hands. “I understand, cara. I truly do.”
She nodded. He was one of the few demons who actually could make the claim.
“I was satisfied with my choices until . . .”
“Until?”
“You.”
He flinched at the blunt answer, not sure whether to sink to his knees in gratitude or shake some sense into her.
In the end he simply regarded her with a desperate hope. “What does that mean?”
“You reminded me that I’m more than a clan chief,” she said in low, husky tones. “I’m a woman.”
A groan escaped his lips as his gaze lowered to the slender curves that emphatically proclaimed her womanhood. “Yes, you are.”
Her hands lifted to rest on his shoulders. “A very lonely woman who was too cowardly to risk sharing herself.”
He muttered a curse. Just for a few minutes, he’d been determined to do the right thing. To stop his compulsive need to blast through her wary shields and instead return to his role of a protector. Nothing, after all, was more important than making sure they halted Gaius and the mysterious spirit before they could create even more havoc.
Now, his resolve faltered.
Because of the edge of vulnerability in her voice?
Or because he was a selfish bastard who urgently wanted to believe she needed him with the same intensity he needed her?
“Why me?” he murmured.
A hint of amusement drove the shadows from her eyes. “Are you seeking compliments?”
His thumb rubbed her lower lip. “I won’t say no to any you want to offer.”
“Hmmm.” She pretended to consider her words. “For one thing, you’re the only vampire I’ve met who is too stubborn to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“That’s your compliment?” he complained. “I’m stubborn?”
Her smile widened, revealing a sexy hint of fang. “Your ego doesn’t need for me to tell you that you’re impossibly gorgeous and so sexy that females melt whenever you walk past them.”
Desire roared through him, searing away his futile attempt at sanity. “That’s better,” he murmured. “Tell me more about how I make you melt.”
Her smile faded, leaving behind an achingly somber expression. “I have no words that explain why it was you, Santiago. It’s more than your courage and loyalty and the goodness in your heart that you try to hide.” Her hands slid over his chest, the light caress sending lightning bolts of pleasure through his clenched body. “It is—and always will be—you.”
The world came to a complete, perfect halt.
She captured the truth in those seven simple words.
It defined his very existence.
The knowledge exploded through him with a nuclear force. Bright and shiny and soul shattering.
“Sí. I was created to be yours, but . . .”
“Ssh.” She pressed a finger to his lips, the tantalizing scent of her jasmine arousal spicing the air. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
He shuddered, unable to resist temptation.