"My patroness is very exacting, and I've sent her weapon after weapon. She wants something new."
"The piece you wear now is only a few modifications from being a bagh nakh." Brass knuckles with claws jutting out.
Now she had to grin. Not many threw that term around. "I already made her one."
"With the spikes curling inward along the palm or jutting out over the knuckles?"
"Out." Then she admitted, "I've never seen any curling in." That would be a great twist. A lady's indignant slap would never be the same.
"Have you ever heard of a bichawa bagh nakh?" When she shook her head, he said, "I wish I could show you. I had a collection such as you wouldn't believe." His dark brows knit. These reminders of what he'd given up must be sharp.
His look bothered her, and she couldn't understand why. You made your bed, vampire.
And still she found herself saying, "Maybe you could draw one?" She crossed to the desk, rooting through drawers until she found paper and a pen.
With a nod, he traced to the seat, collecting the paper. He began to sketch the baseplate and curved claws of the basic weapon, his outline surprisingly competent. Was there anything he couldn't do?
Outside the storm picked up, but the lazy fire gave off just enough heat. She found herself relaxing, sipping her wine as she watched the drawing take shape.
Yet she kept getting distracted by him. Her eyes flickered over his hair. It was thick and straight, reflecting firelight. Had she run her fingers through it last night?
She noted the expanse of his shoulders beneath that tailored shirt and his great height-sitting down, he was nearly as tall as she was standing up. Then her gaze lingered on his face. His masculine features formed an expression of thoughtful concentration.
His eyes really were a mesmerizing shade of green. She'd seen that color before. In the deepest forests of Abaddon.
Perhaps Morgana had been right in her assessment.
Looking at Daciano's lips brought to mind his heated kisses last night. Whenever she'd imagined kissing Cas, she'd envisioned accompanying sighs, handholding, and laughter.
But now, with this vampire, her thoughts weren't quite so innocent. Surely that was because she'd actually kissed Daciano. Of course her imaginings would be different; reality was intruding!
Breaking her stare, he said, "The basic model would be fine to use against a human. But for an immortal you need more tissue disruption."
Tissue disruption. Gods, he was talking Weapon to her.
She was actually enjoying herself. She hopped up on the desk, tilting her head down to watch him work.
He paused, his gaze sliding to the slit of her skirt. She crossed her legs; he snapped the pen.
How . . . thrilling. She'd never had such an effect on males before. She could almost feel like a sorceress again, enthralling a vampire warrior.
That didn't mean she needed to play with fire. She handed him another pen. "The drawing, Daciano."
His broad jaw clenched, he gave a subtle nod, then continued. His fingers were dexterous. She remembered more vividly how he'd secured her br**sts in his possessive grip as he'd suckled her. She remembered how those clever fingers had trailed down her torso before petting her between her legs.
Slowly, tenderly, hotly.
He'd certainly been dexterous then, with an art all his own.
She didn't need to be thinking about this right now! If she grew aroused, he would know, could probably hear her heart speeding up right now-
At that moment, one of his pen strokes went erratic. He paused, seeming to catch his breath before the pen moved once more.
When she glanced down next, he'd drawn a blade jutting from one end of the baseplate. "That's a static blade?" she asked. "It's always extended?"
In a hoarse voice, he said, "Yes, but if you can figure out how to eject spikes from an armlet, you can surely create a switchblade to eject from the baseplate."
"So it'd look like it was shooting from the bottom of my fist?"
"Precisely."
So that was the modification. Patroness would adore it. Maybe Bettina and Daciano did have some common ground.
Eyes anywhere but on her, the vampire slid the page over.
If Trehan's female could guess even half of his thoughts at this moment, she'd run screaming from the tent.
With her so accessible on the desk, he could sweep her over in front of his chair and grip her knees, easing her thighs open.
He'd compared Bettina to a book before; now he dreamed of spreading her wide and devouring her, sampling her as he'd dreamed of all day. His shaft swelled painfully as the fantasy played out in his mind.
He wouldn't let her go until she'd come half a dozen times for him. Against his tongue, her drenched sex would quiver, hungry for his shaft to fill it-
Control yourself, Trehan!
Easier said . . . When she'd hopped up on the desk, her bared thigh just inches from his hand, he'd wondered if she was a tease-or if she truly had no idea how much she affected him.
He suspected the latter. He also suspected she was catching on, and enjoying her newfound feminine wiles.
Gods help me.
Already her mannerisms had bewitched him: the way she absently licked wine from her red lips. The way she adjusted her mask when she was discomfited. The way she gazed up at him from under her thick lashes, taking his measure with those exquisite eyes.
When she'd tilted her head to analyze his drawing, her thick mane of hair had swept over her bare shoulder, sending him awash in her scent.
And, zeii, her smile. Earlier, when she'd realized she was enjoying herself, her lips had curled, the smile coming easily. Immediately, his mind had turned to ways he could coax another from her.
Everything about her made him want to either crush her in an embrace-or pin her h*ps as he pounded between her legs.
Worse? He was certain she was getting aroused as well.
But he'd governed his urges. He knew how important this interlude was. It was their beginning. An eternity of pleasure lay before them if his campaign with her proved successful.
He was building trust, demonstrating their commonalities. His actions followed a formula, but the method seemed to be working.
Next, he would deploy the second stage of his plan, using her desires to his advantage. He stood and moved before her, greatly looking forward to it.
She gazed up at him with those entrancing eyes. Success would find her in his arms, her moans in his ear.
Failure? Would find her with her hands all wet . . .
Looking for all the world like he was about to kiss her, the vampire eased closer until she could perceive the heat coming off his body.
Lips parted, brows drawn, he reached down to gently cup her face, tugging her to him-
She shoved against his chest. "Stop! This is not why I'm here."
He eventually released her, his gaze narrowed.
Analyzing me. She knew vampires were an inherently logical species, but she'd never met any who exhibited that trait. Their minds had been tainted by bloodlust, their irises-and even the whites of their eyes-gone red from it.
She'd never met a clear-eyed vampire before, and now she was the object of this one's study.
"One boon, then-for a kiss."
She gave him a disappointed look. "You want my favors to be, well, sexual? Is that why you've maneuvered me into this bargaining? You're hardly playing fair."
Curling his finger under her chin, he said, "Do you really think I'll play fair when the prize is so dear?" With his other hand, he reached for her mask, gently unlacing it to remove the silk. Seeming captivated by her face, he bit out, "Zeii mea, beauty, you speak to me of playing fair? You've vanquished me with one move."
Her cheeks heated furiously. Why did she feel such a thrill at each of his compliments? Because others' compliments were so rare?
She reminded herself that he was a stone-cold killer, clearly a manipulator. He was so much older, with lifetimes more experience than she had. "You told me you wouldn't return for me. You seemed perfectly okay with the idea of never seeing me again. Now this? I want to know what changed."
"Me. For centuries, I lived a life of service, never desiring anything for myself. And now I do desire." He eased closer to her. "Bettina, I desire beyond reason."
His scent and heat permeated her senses. Did all vampires smell this mouthwatering? Maybe as a predatory tool to lure quarry like her? It was working.
Again she felt weak and breathless, the flash-fever returned. It seemed like her body was so busy struggling to regain equilibrium that her thought processes suffered. "I-I have a hard time believing you'd leave your home, a home you treasure."
At her ear, he rasped, "To treasure you."
He could be smooth, she'd give him that. But then she remembered that he planned to kill Caspion.
Chapter 20
She drew her head back. "Why? You know nothing about me. Your blooding makes you attracted to me. Your desire is actually just a quirk of fate."
"Does the blooding affect me? Yes. I need to protect you, to claim you, to"-he stopped himself-"to . . . possess you in every way."
What exactly did that mean? What had he been about to say?
"But you also fascinate me. Your creations intrigue me."
"You're a flatterer."
"Never. A teller of truths."
"You can tell me all the truths you like, vampire, but I'm still not going to kiss you. Not tonight. Not ever."
"I see. Very well, Bettina."
Funny. She'd thought he would put up more of a fight-
Suddenly his arm wrapped around her, mist filling her vision. One of his fingers pressed over her lips.
A split second later, another vampire traced into the tent, a younger squire who looked nervous, twitchy-and fearful of Daciano.
Ah, gods, she was seen!
But the squire quickly set about his duties, paying no attention to her.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would hide her from his gaze.
After a few moments, he asked, "Anything else . . . my lord?" His voice broke midsentence.
She peeked open her eyes. The young vampire hadn't even glanced at her. Was she hidden in Daciano's mist? Was that even possible?
"That will be all," Daciano said. "Do not return until gloaming tomorrow."
When the squire disappeared, Bettina said, "He couldn't see me?"
"You're my Bride. I can hide you."
"That was too close!" She shoved against Daciano's chest, but he didn't release her. "This is such a bad idea-wait a second. Why did that squire ready your bath?"
"You told me earlier tonight that you expected to be treated like a lady."
"Yes, so?"
His eyes bored into hers. "A lady tends to her lord's bath."
"What are you talking . . ." She trailed off. "You're not my lord!" She gave another shove that he didn't even seem to register.
"A boon says I am tonight."
"This was a-a carefully orchestrated trap! You planned all this, manipulating me!"
"Yes."
When he simply admitted to things like that, it seriously undermined her outrage. "You're insane."
"Perhaps all these unredeemed favors have gone to my head."
"You're not even in need of a bath."
"A bath can have other purposes. Here are your choices: you tend to my bath-or I'll tend to yours."
The look in his eyes told her that he was leaning toward the latter.
To have this male running soap all over her nak*d body . . . ? What would that be like?
Gaze dropping to her neck, he said, "I could demand far worse than this."
Such as a drink? Was that what he'd meant when he'd said, "possess you in every way"?
"Bettina, you didn't have to agree to our bargain."
"Of course I did. I would have done anything to save Caspion."
Some dark, primal emotion flashed over his face, and his arms tightened around her. "Have care, sorceress. You tread upon perilous ground."
She swallowed with fear. Strangely, not for herself, only for Caspion. "You still want him dead. So why save him earlier? It only increases the likelihood that you will have to kill him."
"If we're pitted against each other, I won't have a choice but to defeat him, so you'll be more likely to forgive me. If I hadn't saved him today, that would have been a choice you might not have forgiven. Besides, these favors will help me win your affections of my own accord-not simply because my competitor no longer exists."
"So that's what motivates you? Competition with Cas?"
He gave a humorless laugh. "Soon you'll find there is no competition with that demon. What motivates me is the lovely prize I'll possess." He set her away to begin unbuttoning his shirt. "And you'll stall no more." His gaze raked along her body as he began to bare his. Again, she fought the need to fan herself.
When Daciano removed his shirt, she turned away, but not before she got a look at his muscular chest in the firelight.
His skin was smooth-and completely unmarked from the melee. In the ring, he'd been saturated with blood. But only from others?
She also glimpsed that crystal around his neck. His clothing style was simple and unembellished; she wondered why he wore that lead.
Is he removing his boots?
Keeping her back to him as he undressed was more difficult than she would have supposed. What woman wouldn't crave seeing the vampire's body, especially after touching it in the dark the night before?
But for Bettina, it was even worse. She had an artist's eye, and right now that sensibility was clamoring to see this male nak*d. As a subject. Nothing more.
His pants landed over a chair to her right. She swallowed. He's nak*d in this tent with me.
When he descended into the water, she snapped, "I'm not doing this," even as she mused, I should have peeked.
"Then prepare for worse."
Her thoughts ran riot. Scrubbing his back was preferable to a thousand other things he could have demanded. "But I've never bathed anyone before."
"I'm confident you'll stumble your way through this."
She scowled up at the ceiling. Oh, how bad could a bath be? She would refuse to wash any part of him below the waist. I won't get caught up like I did last night.