Читать книгу Enchant the Night - Amanda Ashley - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Callie shivered under the intensity of Quill’s scrutiny, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. What if he wanted her to bear his child? Lordy, the very thought stole her breath away. He was tall and dark and dangerous, his eyes hot as his gaze moved over her, lingering on her throat, her breasts, her hips.

She glanced at the door, wondering if she could outrun him, and even as the thought crossed her mind, the door closed, seemingly of its own accord. Feeling like a mouse trapped by a mountain lion, her hands gripped the arms of her chair.

“Ah, Callie,” he murmured. “I do want something from you. Not what you’re thinking,” he assured her, amusement evident in the depths of his eyes.

“What am I thinking?”

“You’re wondering how many children I’ve sired, and if I’ve chosen you to be the mother of the next one.”

Callie pressed her hands to her heated cheeks as she blushed from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. How could he possibly know that?

“To answer your question, I’ve never fathered a child. But make no mistake, I would love to have one with you.”

Callie swallowed hard, felt her heart skip a beat at the thought of being in his arms, in his bed, of giving birth to a vampire baby. She shook her head imperceptibly. This couldn’t be happening.

He pushed off the edge of the mattress to tower over her. “Put your mind at ease, sweet Callie. All I want is a hot bath and a change of clothes.”

Relief swept through her, leaving her feeling totally drained. “A . . . a bath?”

He glanced down at his blood-stained shirt and trousers. “Don’t you think I need one?”

Nodding, she sprang to her feet. “I’ll fill the tub right now,” she said, eager to put some distance between them.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to wash my back?”

A fresh wave of heat climbed up her neck and flooded her cheeks. Uttering a wordless cry, she flung open the door and made her escape. The deep, throaty sound of his laughter followed her down the hall.

Quill stared after her, his expression thoughtful. What would it be like, to make a baby with Callie? To hold her beautiful, slim body close to his and plant his seed within her? To taste and tease those sweet lips all night long, run his hands through the golden silk of her hair and over her soft, smooth flesh, to bury himself deep inside her sweetness and never let her go?

* * *

Callie paced the living room floor, trying not to imagine Quill lying naked in her bathtub. Wash his back indeed! How dare he even suggest such a thing! It was . . . was . . . She blew out a sigh as she admitted that a small part of her found the idea very tempting.

What was wrong with her? The man was a vampire, for goodness’ sake. Why wasn’t she more afraid of him? Why was she still here? She could have run away any time in the last three days while he’d been recovering. So why hadn’t she?

She paused as an unwanted thought crept into her mind. Was he using some kind of vampire hypnosis to keep her here against her will? Was that why she wasn’t afraid of him? And if he was exerting some kind of supernatural influence on her, how was she to know? But he couldn’t be keeping her here, she thought, not when she’d gone out to the mall that very day.

Needing some fresh air, she walked out the front door and stood on the porch. The night was cool and clear, the air fragrant with the scent of her neighbor’s night-blooming jasmine. Feeling suddenly carefree, Callie walked down the stairs to the end of the narrow path that led to the sidewalk.

Turning left, she continued on her way. If she decided not to go back home, she could always spend a few days with Vivian. Except she’d have to go back home to get her purse and a change of clothes. And her car. And her phone.

And he would be there.

Pausing on the corner, Callie chewed on the edge of her thumbnail. She didn’t have to go home. She didn’t need her handbag or anything else. And Vivian would be more than happy to lend her something to wear and drive her wherever she wanted to go.

* * *

Quill reclined in the tub, arms resting on the sides, his eyes closed. The air was moist, fragrant with the scent of Callie’s lavender-scented bubble bath. He smiled inwardly, amused by the turn of her thoughts. She worried that he was controlling her actions. Control was not quite the right word, he mused, though he had planted suggestions in her mind, like telling her to meet him in Hunter Park and calling her to him after the Knights attacked him. He wondered if she would decide to spend the next few days with her friend.

And if he would let her.

* * *

Callie was a block away from Vivian’s house when there was a shimmer in the air and Quill appeared on the sidewalk, fully clothed, in front of her. Startled, she reeled back and would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her arm to steady her.

“What . . . what are you doing here?” she exclaimed. “How . . . ?”

“It isn’t safe for you to be out walking alone at night.”

“I’m fine!” she snapped, jerking her arm from his grasp.

“Come home, Callie.” His voice caressed her like dark silk. Lost in the depths of his eyes, she didn’t resist when he captured her hand with his.

When he turned toward home, she fell into step beside him. They walked in silence for several blocks. Callie glanced at him surreptitiously from time to time, thinking he looked devastatingly handsome in a pair of black jeans and a pullover sweater the same shade of dark gray as his eyes. And then she frowned. “Where did you get those clothes?”

“I made a quick trip to my lair.”

“Your lair?” Animals had lairs. People had homes.

“Where I take my rest.”

“And where might that be?”

“I’m afraid that’s something I never share.”

“Is it nearby?”

His gaze assessed hers. “Why do you want to know?”

“You know where I live,” she said with a shrug. “Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

“Ordinarily, yes. But in this case, it’s better for both of us if that remains a mystery.”

Callie mulled that over. Surely he wasn’t afraid of her? Maybe he was worried that she might betray him if she knew. She wanted to believe that was something she would never do, but in reality, she feared that, under certain circumstances, she might tell his enemies anything they wanted to know.

Quill smiled as he followed her train of thought. The longer he knew her, the better he liked her.

“How long are you planning to stay at my house?” she asked as they turned onto her street.

“Would you like me to leave?”

She started to say yes, but the words died, unspoken. The truth was, she liked having him there. Until she met Quill, her life had been dull and predictable. Save for Vivian, she had few close friends. Most of the girls she had known in college had married or moved away.

When they reached home, Quill held the door for her, then followed her inside.

Callie went into the kitchen for a can of soda. When she returned to the living room, he was sitting on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one arm resting along the back of the couch. His gaze met hers, a question in his eyes.

She hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, then went to sit beside him. A million butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach when he slipped his arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him, suddenly breathless as he took the soda from her hand, placed it on the coffee table, and drew her into his embrace.

For a time, he simply held her. Not so tightly that she felt trapped. She met his gaze, wondering what secrets lay hidden in the depths of his eyes. Anticipation thrummed through every fiber of her being as he lowered his head. She had expected him to bite her, felt an unexpected thrill of excitement when his mouth claimed hers.

His lips were firm and cool, his tongue hot as it swept over her lower lip. Leaning into him, she moaned softly as he deepened the kiss. She clung to him as the world spun out of focus and there was only the two of them, mouths fused together, bodies straining to be closer as his tongue tangled with hers. When he lifted his head, she whimpered softly.

“Callie.”

It took a moment for his voice, husky with longing, to penetrate the fog of desire that engulfed her.

Extricating himself from her grasp, he muttered, “Callie, we need to stop.”

She looked up at him, a rush of embarrassment flooding her cheeks. Never in all her life had she behaved so wantonly with a man, let alone one who was pretty much a stranger. And certainly strange, she thought with a faint grin.

His knuckles brushed her cheek. “You are the most desirable woman I’ve ever known.”

Did he honestly expect her to believe that? The man had lived for six centuries. He must have known literally hundreds of women. Made love to hundreds of women more beautiful and certainly more experienced than she.

Taking her hand in his, he said, “I’m a man, not a monk, sweet Callie. But I’ve never met anyone like you. Never wanted a woman as desperately as I want you. But passion and love are not the same thing, and I want your heart and soul before I take you to my bed.”

Rising, he bowed over her hand and kissed it. “I have to go out for a while. Keep your doors locked.”

“Where are you going?”

He hesitated a moment before saying, “I need to feed.”

She frowned. “But . . .”

“I would rather drink from you, my sweet girl.” He trailed his fingertips along the side of her neck. “But I don’t want you to think of yourself as prey, because you mean so much more to me than that. Do you understand?”

She nodded, though she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy at the thought of him drinking from someone else. And how sick was that?

He was still holding her hand. Heat suffused her when he turned it over and ran his tongue over her palm. “I won’t be gone long,” he murmured, and vanished from her sight.

He wanted her love, Callie mused as she kicked off her shoes, then padded into her bedroom. His declaration had come as a complete surprise. Just thinking about it made her smile. Slipping into her pajamas, she had to admit that falling in love with Quill wouldn’t be hard at all.

Returning to the living room, Callie picked up her soda and sipped it slowly while she recalled their conversation. He was six hundred years old. He hadn’t said as much, but it didn’t sound like he had ever married. He’d said he had never fathered a child. She found that odd, somehow. Surely, in six hundred years he would have impregnated at least one of the many women he’d seduced, whether on purpose or by accident.

She wondered if his lair was nearby. And what it looked like. Was it dark and dreary like in the movie Dracula? Did it have dusty, winding staircases, and lacy cobwebs in every corner? A Renfield lurking in the shadows? A coffin filled with earth in the basement?

Had he meant it when he’d said he had never wanted another woman the way he wanted her? She still found that hard to believe. She wasn’t a raving beauty, didn’t possess any rare or unusual talents. She was just Callie Hathaway, she thought dryly. Vampire magnet.

The thought made her laugh so hard she almost choked on her soda.

* * *

Quill fed quickly. It was remarkably satisfying, but all the while, he wished it was Callie in his arms, Callie’s sweet blood warming him. He had known her only a few days and yet, for reasons he did not understand, she had become the most important thing in his life. Her lack of fear baffled him. He knew she was afraid of what he was, but it wasn’t the instinctive terror most people experienced. And he wondered again what there was about her blood that set her apart and why he couldn’t recall where he had tasted something similar before.

He was on his way back to her house when he sensed the presence of one of the Knights of the Dark Wood. From what little he had learned about their secret society through the years, he knew there were always thirteen of them. With two dead, he had expected the rest to return home and initiate two more.

Apparently, he had been mistaken.