The Real Werewives Of Vampire County Part 6

"Yeah, right."

"Sophia, I'm here to protect you." Her lips parted and he hastily pressed a finger to halt her angry words. "Hold on. I'm not going to insult your intelligence by denying that I want you." He allowed his hunger to simmer in the air, the heat stirring the satin strands of her hair. "Desperately. Or that I'm going to say 'no' when you finally accept that I'm irresistible." With an effort he leashed his aching desire, needing her to realize that she would always be safe in his care. Physically and emotionally. "But until that moment, I don't expect anything from you but your cooperation in keeping you alive."

Her expression remained suspicious. "You intend to spend the night with me and not have s.e.x?"

Both wolf and man groaned at the mere thought of the long hours ahead, but his smile never wavered.

"I can keep our relations.h.i.+p platonic if you can."

It was a direct challenge.

One no wolf could back down from.

Her jaw clenched. "The boxers stay on."

His smile widened. "You're the boss."

Turning her back to him, she reached to switch off the Tiffany lamp.

"Christ, I must be out of my mind."

CHAPTER 4.

It was late afternoon when Sophia woke.

Considering that dawn had already crested when she'd at last fallen asleep, it was no surprise she'd slept late.

It was, however, a surprise to realize that she was not only wrapped in Luc's strong arms, but that she'd molded herself so tightly to his body that she might as well have been a d.a.m.ned barnacle on the bottom of a s.h.i.+p.

Her head was tucked beneath his chin, her ear pressed over the steady beat of his heart, and she had one leg thrown over his hip.

Pathetic.

Sensing he was awake and well aware of her embarra.s.sment, she tilted back her head, intending to slay him with a heated glare.

Instead she forgot how to breathe.

Holy ... s.h.i.+t, but he was beautiful.

Achingly, shatteringly beautiful.

Helplessly her gaze wandered over the chiseled male features that were only emphasized by his heavy morning beard and his tousled hair. The high cheekbones, the wide brow, the near-black eyes that could make a woman melt at a hundred paces.

It wasn't until his lips parted to reveal the teeth that were shockingly white against his bronzed skin that she was reminded that she wanted to punch him in his perfect nose, not ...

Other things.

Wicked, delicious other things.

"If you intended to use this side of the bed you should have said so last night," she informed him, s.h.i.+fting her hands from his back to press them against his chest.

He smiled at her with a lazy satisfaction. "You were the one who wanted me to be more sensitive."

"I said I didn't want you acting like a caveman," she corrected. "Besides there's nothing sensitive in groping me while I'm asleep."

His hands drifted over her hips, touching her with a familiarity that should have been offensive, not exciting.

"You were whimpering and tossing around until I at last took you in my arms," he claimed. "Once I had you tucked against me you slept like a baby."

Her lips parted to deny his ridiculous claim, only to snap shut as a vague memory flashed through her mind-a nightmare in which she was being chased through a dark forest by an unseen enemy.

Muttering her opinion of arrogant Weres who should be neutered, she shoved her way out of his arms and headed toward her bathroom.

"I need a shower."

"What about breakfast?"

"Do I look like Julia Child?" she demanded, pausing to send him a warning scowl. "Don't even think about opening this door."

He grinned, looking edible as he tucked his hands behind his head, the satin sheet falling down to reveal his wide chest and washboard abs.

"I could scrub your back."

Fiercely refusing to allow the tempting image to form in her mind, Sophia slammed the door shut and turned the lock.

Not that she thought Luc would intrude into her privacy. He might be overbearing when it came to protecting her, but he would never force himself on an unwilling woman.

Why would he?

He no doubt had an entire harem waiting for him back in Miami.

Refusing to consider why that thought made her wolf snarl, Sophia yanked off her camisole and shorts before entering her shower and turning the cold water on full blast.

A half an hour later she was dressed in a tiny yellow bikini with a matching sarong that fell to her knees tied around her slender waist. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her expression was defiant.

She hadn't chosen her favorite swimsuit to make Luc forget those females she was now convinced he must have left behind. That would be downright childish, she told herself as she made her way toward the delicious aroma of frying onions, garlic, peppers, and fresh tomatoes.

It was just that she always spent a few hours by the pool before heading to her club.

Of course, if it did make his jaw drop, then she wouldn't complain.

Her c.o.c.ky smile lasted until she stepped into the kitchen to catch sight of Luc standing beside the stove still dressed in nothing more than his silk boxers.

Instinctively her hand lifted to make sure no drool was dribbling down her chin.

Holy c.r.a.p.

Most women would sell their souls to walk in and find this bronzed G.o.d fixing them breakfast.

Including her, she abruptly realized.

For a crazed moment she considered the pleasure of walking across the floor and wrapping her arms around his narrow waist to press herself against his back.

Then abruptly she recalled he wasn't here because he'd been mesmerized by her charm. Or even because he thought she was hot.

He was here because her life was in danger. And while she didn't doubt for a minute he would be more than happy to fulfill a few of her deepest fantasies, she would be a fool to think she would be anything but a convenient female body he was willing to use until it was time to move on.

She didn't know why the thought should make her suddenly so grumpy, but she did know her fingers itched to toss a few of her Baccarat crystal gla.s.ses.

Instead she forced a casual smile to her lips as she crossed to the breakfast nook where the table was already set, complete with fresh roses from the garden.

"Making yourself at home?" she drawled, settling on a padded wicker chair.

Efficiently plating a mound of golden scrambled eggs that he covered with his chunky tomato sauce, he crossed to set it in the center of the table. Sophia breathed deeply, catching the spicy aroma of chilies and c.u.min and chopped oregano.

"You should be thanking me," he murmured, taking a seat across the small table, his grin distinctly wicked. "I've had women begging on their knees for a taste of my huevos rancheros."

That wasn't the only thing they begged for, she silently acknowledged, piling her plate high with scrambled eggs before taking a sip of her freshly squeezed orange juice.

Heaven.

She glanced up to catch him watching her with an unreadable expression.

"Shouldn't you be rigging up my alarm system or something?"

"We need to talk first." He nodded toward her plate. "Eat."

She rolled her eyes at his commanding tone. "Are you going to give me a treat if I roll over and play dead?"

His lips twitched. "What do you want from me?"

"Ask me, don't order me."

"Do I get credit for not throwing you over my shoulder and hauling you back to bed?" Heat blazed in his eyes as they skimmed down her nearly naked body. "That's what my inner caveman is urging me to do. And my wolf agrees."

So did her wolf.

It didn't mind a bit of caveman.

Not when the end result was some raw, spectacular s.e.x.

She shoveled the eggs into her mouth, barely taking time to savor the bold flavor as she cleaned her plate. Anything to distract her from the aching void between her legs that was becoming nearly unbearable.

Once finished, she pushed away her plate. It really had been delicious and she crankily wondered if there was anything that wasn't perfect about this Were.

"What do you want to discuss?"

Having polished off his own plate, Luc settled back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

"A party."

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to host a party."

She slowly narrowed her gaze. "What kind of party?"

He gave a sudden laugh. "Not the kind you're thinking of."

"Now you can read my mind?" she muttered, pretending the maddening image of Luc floating in her hot tub with a covey of water sprites pleasuring his naked body hadn't just flared through her mind.

He leaned forward, his hand reaching to cover hers. "I told you I'm not into public displays. Especially not when it comes to s.e.x," he a.s.sured her in a voice filled with husky promise. "I like it mano y mano with lots of privacy and lots of time." The dark eyes flashed with sinful amus.e.m.e.nt. "And occasionally handcuffs."

"Handcuffs?" She pretended his light touch wasn't sending molten need through her veins. "Do you need restraints to acquire your dates? Or to keep them from escaping?"

He lifted her fingers to his lips. "Someday very soon I'll show you exactly what I do with them."

With a low groan she s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. In a minute she was going to be knocking aside the table and crawling over him like a s.e.x-starved harpy.

"So why do you want me to host a party?"

He shrugged, the amus.e.m.e.nt lingering in his eyes. "It's the most convenient way to gather all your neighbors at one time so I can question them."

"You think they'll confess to being a homicidal maniac over apple martinis?"

"It's easier to read people when they're in a group," he explained. "If I do door-to-door interviews they'll be on guard."

"No s.h.i.+t," she muttered, her gaze skimming over the heavy muscles of his chest.

Even dressed he would be the sort of unannounced visitor who would make her neighbors hide under their bed and call the cops.

His smile widened. "This way they'll feel more comfortable."

"And more likely to give something away?"

"That's the hope."

She had to admit it made sense, she acknowledged, rising to her feet.

As he said, her neighbors were more likely to let down their guard during the course of a party. Especially if she could score a bottle of nectar from Troy. A few drops in her guests' drinks and their inhibitions would be lowered. Perhaps not to the point of revealing their most intimate secrets, but they would be more inclined to "share."

"Fine." She cleared her throat as he straightened, his muscles rippling in the afternoon sunlight that slanted through the gla.s.s wall. "I'll send out the invitations."