thousand years of existence, few women could stir his jaded soul. But his soul was already stained by the blood of another Darklighter. And he’d vowed he’d never let it happen again.
This is why it’s better to remain alone, he thought. I must tame her, take her dark powers.
But in taking her darkness, was he removing the spirit that made her strong? Sitting on the couch in his suite, Lucien watched her line dominos on the tile floor, a tedious exercise to teach her patience. As she picked up the last tile with a triumphant smile, he toed one and the rest tumbled down.
Anger darkened her face. “That’s not fair. Put them back. You promised I could go swimming if I set all of them up.”
“I did not promise not to knock them over. Patience, Mara.” He regarded her flushed face. “Dennis Jones is still in Miami, by the way. I saw him in an outdoor cafe when I went to the store to buy the dominos.”
Talons emerged from her fingertips. Her eyes turned blood-red, her lips a thin white line. Snarling, she launched herself across the room.
Lucien flicked a hand and Mara crashed downward. She recovered. He allowed her to tackle him, draw a thin crimson line down one cheek. Spitting, she reached out to swipe him again.
Mara paused, confusion furrowing her brow. Her gaze centered on the blood on his cheek. The demonic features vanished.
Her mouth wobbled tremulously. “I hurt you. Lucien, I hurt you and I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
As she spoke, his wound healed.
“Your demon took over. Rage unleashes it and you lose control.” Lucien hated the bleakness shadowing her face.
“I can’t do this. Every time I get angry, I think of Jones wanting to hurt me. What if I can never learn to control this? I feel so alone.”
“You will. Stop thinking of Jones. It only feeds your demon.”
Her anguish cracked his cold rock of a heart. Gods, he knew what it felt like to be alone and isolated. If he did nothing else in his godsforsaken life, he must help her. Even though his soul rebelled at the idea of entangling his life with a dangerous Darklighter.
And his heart rebelled as well.
Yet Mara looked so woebegone and forlorn, Lucien’s protective instincts surged. He took her into his arms, letting her lean against him for support. How had she survived these years alone, being the caretaker of her sisters, working hard to escape attention?
The solid beat of her heart echoed in his ears. He could feel the blood pump in her veins, her confused grief settle into calm. Feel her soft, warm body meld against his.
His fangs lengthened as his groin hardened. Lucien stroked the silkiness of her hair. He wanted her in his bed, but not his life. She could be the death of him.
“What do you do when you’re angry, Lucien?”
“I count to ten backwards in Latin.”
Mara lifted her face, wrinkled her nose. Enchanted, he laughed and touched her cheek, forging a connection between them. Mara gazed at him with a hopeful look.
“If you’re so intent on subduing my demon, can you at least teach my angelic half how to kick some ass?”
Another crack shattered his cold heart. Lucien smiled, melting at the adorable expression on her heart-shaped face. Damn, she was lovely, and sexy and so tempting. Mating her was dangerous because she had the power to unravel his cold restraint. Mara was getting to him.
“I usually bite their neck. I am a vampire,” he teased.
A pulse beat wildly at the side of her long, slender throat. His fangs ached as he longed put his mouth on her, mark her by taking her blood. She’d taste hot and sweet sliding down his throat.
He toyed with a strand of her silky hair, his gaze heavy-lidded as he regarded his charge. He envisioned sinking his fangs into her soft skin as she clung naked to him, screaming as they copulated in lusty, sweaty sex on his feather mattress.
Or the floor.
Or this sofa.
Those blue eyes pierced his. “Vampires are supposed to be powerful. I’ve heard stories about