Phantom Shadows
Page 28“Oh, and Bastien . . .” His words turned brittle. “Tread carefully with my Second. Mistreat him in any way and you will answer to me.”
Bastien had lived with vampires with vicious mentalities and violent tempers that could explode at any moment for two centuries. He was confident he could best the other immortal in a fight, but frankly had no interest in doing so. Richart had just done him a solid. Bastien may be the asshole others thought him, but he didn’t forget things like that.
“I don’t abuse children.”
Giving him an abrupt nod, Richart vanished.
Silence descended upon the room.
“So,” Melanie said.
Bastien raised one eyebrow. “So?”
“You picture me naked?”
He had hoped she had forgotten about that—damn Étienne and his prying—but, since she hadn’t, he saw no reason to deny it. “Yes, I do.” He didn’t feel any embarrassment. He was a man with healthy sexual appetites and she was a very appealing woman. He did experience some confusion, however, when she exhibited no anger over the admission.
She didn’t call him a swine or a dog or whatever animal women currently called men who did something inappropriate.
She merely eyed him speculatively, making him feel as if she were trying to imagine him naked, then said, “I should warn you that I probably won’t live up to your expectations.”
Every muscle in his body tightened. He swallowed. Hard. “What?”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that I don’t look nearly as good naked as you think I do.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“I’m just saying . . . I didn’t exercise regularly until I underwent training by the network and . . . I’ve lost weight since then and . . .”
“And?”
She pursed her lips. “Even though I’m in shape now, certain body parts aren’t what I would like them to be.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to respond to that.”
She grinned. “You don’t have to respond at all. I just wanted to make sure you knew that clothing can hide a lot of flaws.”
Said the flawless woman who made his body harden even when she tried to convince him she was unattractive. Or that she wasn’t as attractive as he might imagine. Or . . .
Actually he wasn’t sure. “I’m certain you’re just being overly critical of yourself.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Could be. The media does condition women to believe they should look a certain way. But, just to be on the safe side, you might want to imagine me with smaller breasts when you fantasize about me.”
Again he remained silent for a moment. “Could I just say that this is the most peculiar conversation I’ve ever had?”
She laughed. “Why?”
“My breasts aren’t this big. I’m wearing a push-up bra.”
“I know.”
The look of surprise on her face was too adorable. “What?”
“I know you’re wearing a push-up bra.”
Now she was silent. “If you tell me you have two gifts and that one of them is X-ray vision, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
He laughed. “I don’t have X-ray vision. But, as you know, all of our senses are heightened. I can hear the faint rustle of the padding that humans can’t. And your breasts don’t move the way they would in a bra without the padding.”
“Wow. You guys really notice the little details, huh?”
“With you, yes.”
A teasing smile curved her lips. “So you stare at my breasts?”
“Yes,” he said, returning her smile, and shook his head in bafflement. “And for some reason, admitting that makes me feel like a naughty schoolboy caught peeking up his teacher’s skirt.”
“Cool.”
Again he laughed.
“So what’s the other reason?”
He tried to recall what they had been talking about but now could only think of her breasts.
Her smile widened into a grin. “The other reason this is the oddest conversation you’ve ever had,” she prodded.
Ah. “You seem to believe I’m going to see you naked at some point in the future. That’s never going to happen.”
“Says you.”
He grinned. “Are you trying to make me laugh again?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t seem to laugh very often. And I like it when you laugh. It makes me happy.”
Hell. He was in so much trouble. There was only so much a man could withstand.“I like you, Sebastien.”
“I see what the others don’t.”
Once more, he found himself at a loss for words, because the desperation with which he wanted her to see something good in him—something he could never seem to find himself—was terrifying.
“Now, I know you don’t like to be touched,” she began.
What nit told her that? his inner voice screamed.
“But brace yourself.” She took a step closer. “Because I’m going to give you a hug.”
He stiffened.
Don’t let her touch you! Not now! Not after that weird-ass conversation that left you fixated on her body and feeling all soft and mushy inside because she likes to see you laugh!
Stepping closer, she slipped her arms around his waist, pressed the front of her delectable body to the front of his, leaned her weight into him, and rested her cheek on his chest.
He closed his eyes. It felt wonderful. She felt wonderful.
Though he willed himself not to give in to temptation, he found himself wrapping his arms around her slight form and holding her tight.
“Thank you for saving my life tonight,” she said softly.
“I didn’t. Richart and Roland did.”
She shook her head. “I remember what you did now. You put yourself between me and the shooter.”
“It made no difference. The bullet just went through me and hit you anyway.”
“For all you know, he may have been aiming that third bullet at my head. When you stepped between us, you blocked his view and he couldn’t do anything but a body shot. Then you whisked me to safety behind the building.”
He hadn’t thought of that, but knew it to be standard practice. How many times had he heard Darnell tell the Seconds he trained to hit the body first to disable, then follow up with a head shot?
The idea left him cold.
But not cold enough to keep him from getting hard at the feel of her. The scent of her. The sheer seduction of her.
How he wanted to let his hands wander down and see if that hospital gown gaped in the back the way some did.
“Okay, I’m going to say something now and don’t want you to take offense,” she said then, voice changing.
“Okay,” he agreed warily.
“E wwww. Gross. I forgot you were covered with blood.” She leaned back. Sure enough, her face and hair were now sticky with some of the gore that coated his clothing. And the hospital gown looked as if someone had dipped a sponge in red paint and dabbed it repeatedly.
“Sorry.” He reached under his coat and into one of his back pockets to draw out a pristinely clean white kerchief.
Her brown eyes stared up at him so intently he felt her gaze like a touch.
“There,” he murmured when her face was clean, and stuffed the kerchief back in his pocket.
Her gaze didn’t waver. “You know what?” she said, voice equally hushed. “Screw it. In for a penny, in for a pound.”
Reaching up, she clasped his face in both hands and drew his lips down to meet hers.
Electricity seized him, sizzling his blood and stiffening every muscle in his body.
She tasted as good as she looked. As good as she smelled. So good no force on Earth could have kept him from deepening the kiss. Teasing her lips apart, he slipped his tongue inside to seek hers.
Melanie thought if her heart pounded any harder it might burst right out of her chest.
The man could kiss.
Heat consumed her as his soft, warm lips moved against hers. And when his tongue stole inside . . .
She rose onto her toes and slid her arms around his neck. Their bodies came into alignment, breasts to chest, abs to abs, hips to hips. His erection strained against his zipper. His strong arms locked around her and pressed her so close she almost couldn’t breathe.
Bastien had fantasized about her naked form, imagined what she looked like. Well, Melanie hadn’t had to imagine. She had seen Bastien naked when she had tended his wounds after he was drugged. Every firm, delectable inch of him from that gorgeous mane of hair, down muscle and sinew, to his large feet.
She had wanted to know Bastien the man for weeks. Now she wanted to know his body. Wanted to taste and touch and—
One of his big hands slid down and cupped her ass over the gown, grinding her against him.
Her breath caught. Sparks shot through her.
“Dude, did you hear me? I said stop—Whoa!”
Melanie cursed the interruption when Bastien relinquished her lips and glared over her head at Richart’s Second.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you had Jenna with—Holy crap! It’s you!”
Jenna? That must be the name of Richart’s girlfriend.
Melanie raised her head.
Bastien’s eyes glowed a vibrant amber, the passion in them swiftly replaced by irritation.
Sighing—talk about spoiling the moment—she unglued her front from Bastien’s and turned to face the intruder.
The man who stood gaping at them was unusually young for a Second. He had attended the meeting at David’s, but she hadn’t paid that much attention to him because she had been so distracted by Bastien. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">