“Why is that silly?” She felt good in his arms, and followed his lead as if she were a natural dancer.

  “I don’t know. My friends said it was silly.”

  “I see. And what else do your friends say about you?”

  “That I’m cute.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  She tilted her head and frowned. “Would you want to be nearly thirty years old and cute? Give me a break.”

  “I see your point. And you aren’t cute at all.”

  She dropped her head, her face coloring a bright red.

  Women.

  Lifting her chin with his finger, he forced her to look at him. “What I meant was, ‘cute’ doesn’t do you justice.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “No. You’re vivacious, a little mysterious, and incredibly sexy.”

  She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, I’m not joking. I think you’re alluring as hell, Gina.” And that, indeed, was the truth.

  So appealing, he had second thoughts about killing her.

  But self-preservation won out, and he knew he’d do what had to be done to assure his own survival.

  Tonight he’d take Gina Capelli’s virginity.

  After that, he’d take her life.

  Chapter Two

  Gina fought her immediate denial of Deacon’s words. He thought her alluring? Vivacious? Sexy?

  Surely he wasn’t saying those things to get into her pants. Hell, she’d give it up to him gladly. So what other reason could he have to blow smoke up her ass like that?

  Unless he really meant what he said.

  No way. She was cute, according to her friends. Oh yeah, and she had a great personality. Kiss of death to potential dates, in other words. No wonder she never had boyfriends. It wasn’t like her friends helped her out any.

  Then again, most of her friends were married and had kids already, while she still plodded along as the single, almost-thirty-year-old virgin.

  No. She would not be a thirty-year-old virgin. Somehow, she was going to take care of that problem tonight.

  Maybe she’d even ask Deacon Black to take it from her. She may never have another date as long as she lived, but she sure as hell would have the memory of a lifetime.

  Now she just had to muster up the courage to ask him.

  Just how, exactly, did one ask a man to deflower her? It wasn’t like the subject would come up in general conversation. Thank you for the dance, Deacon. Oh, and by the way, would you like to fuck me?

  She supposed she’d simply have to point-blank ask him.

  And then endure the humiliation when he laughed hysterically.

  When the song ended, Deacon led her back to the table. Her mind remained occupied with how she was going to be subtle about propositioning him.

  He poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to her, clinked his glass against hers and offered a toast.

  “To a memorable evening.”

  The way he looked at her, his eyes growing ever darker, made her wonder if asking him to be her lover wasn’t going to be as difficult as she thought.

  “Are you really interested in staying here?” he asked.

  Then again, maybe he wanted to get rid of her already. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

  Deacon picked up her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. She shivered.

  “What I’m saying is, I’d like to be alone with you.”

  She stared at him for what must have been an eternity, unable to find her voice. Then she grabbed her glass of champagne and downed it in one gulp. Her heart pounded, her body heated and she feared she’d break out into a not-very-attractive sweat. Her pulse raced when he rubbed his thumb over her palm. “You want to be alone with me?”

  “Do you know you have a habit of repeating everything I say, in question form?”

  “I repeat everything you say?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just finding this hard to believe.”

  “I don’t know why. You’re a very attractive woman, Gina. I’d like to be with you tonight, if you’re agreeable.”

  Agreeable? She might self-combust on the spot. “I’d…I’d like that very much,” she managed.

  “Good. Let’s get out of here.” He stood and pulled her up, then led her out the back door of the ballroom.

  She hadn’t had to proposition him at all. He’d propositioned her! Now she really was starting to feel like Cinderella, because this sure as hell was some amazing fairytale.

  They headed toward the private hotel elevators. Two men wearing earpieces and microphones accompanied them inside. Security, she imagined.

  Deacon motioned Gina to the back of the elevator, the two guards standing in front of them. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. When her breast brushed his arm, her legs wobbled. His grip around her waist tightened.

  She stared at his profile. Truly, he was magnificent. His long, straight nose and chiseled features gave him an aristocratic look that didn’t seem to belong in today’s society. He looked old world, somehow.

  Deacon turned his head and caught her staring at him. She heated with embarrassment, but before she could pull away he slid his palm alongside her neck, his fingers resting on her pulse point. Anticipation bubbled inside her and she stood, cemented to the spot as he lowered his head to hers.

  She might be a virgin, but she had been kissed before.

  His lips brushed against her half-opened mouth.

  Okay, she had been kissed before. But it had never been like this.

  He tasted like champagne and something indefinable. Dark, rich and sweet, like chocolate sin. His mouth teased hers, then he slowly parted her lips with his tongue and slid inside. A rush of desire pooled between her legs.

  Deacon pulled her closer, wrapped his arms fully around her and kissed her deeply, ravaging her like a man starved. Gina panted, trying desperately to draw a breath.

  He was hard, his erection pressing insistently against her belly. A sizeable erection, too. God, she wanted to reach down and wrap her hands around him, feel him pulsing against her palm.

  Wow. He wanted her. A giddy lightheadedness surrounded her, making her want to whoop for joy. A man wanted her, desired her. And a damn good-looking man, too. She didn’t know what he saw in her, but she wasn’t going to question it any longer.

  Not only was she going to make love for the first time tonight, she was going to do it with Deacon Black, the man of her dreams.

  Arousal made her nipples stand up in painful points, her breasts swelling and desperate to be released. She heard a mournful whimper, surprised to discover it came from her.

  Equally surprising was the fact they still rode on the elevator and were most definitely not alone. She pressed against Deacon’s hard chest until he released her mouth.

  She gasped at his expression. Dark, devilish and wickedly sensuous, his full lips turned down in a frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re not alone,” she whispered, which was ridiculous since she’d just moaned louder than she was speaking right now.

  “I don’t care. I want you, Gina. Now.”

  When he stepped forward, she placed her hands firmly on his chest. “Please, Deacon. Not here.”

  He nodded, blew out a sigh and brushed his hand through his hair. He stepped away, but she could still feel his lips on hers, his hands on her body. She could barely breathe. Desperately she looked at the numbers on the elevator slowly crawling upward.

  They weren’t moving nearly fast enough.

  * * * * *

  Deacon slid the key into the lock and opened the door. The lights came on automatically. He watched Gina’s reaction. Her lips formed a silent “O” and her eyes widened.

  “How many people live in this suite?” she asked, not moving from the entryway.

  “Just me,” he laughed. “Come on, it’s safe to walk in.” He took her hand and led her down the steps into the sunken living room. The drapes were open and the living room was dark. The lights of Las Vegas glittered around them in a panorama of colors.

  “Wow. This is amazing.” She walked toward the window. Deacon admired the seductive sway of her hips when she moved. So damn sexy and she didn’t even realize it.

  The woman was gorgeous. An innocent angel about to be led into the arms of the devil himself. If he wasn’t already bound for hell, this act would surely seal his fate.

  He forced back the guilt, knowing there was nothing he could do now but see it through. It was already too late to find someone else.

  Not bloody likely he’d be able to find another virgin in the next few hours, anyway. And really, wasn’t one virgin just as good as another? They served a vital purpose. They kept him alive.

  It never mattered before what woman was chosen for him, nor the fact that she would have to sacrifice her life so he could continue on. It was the curse, the way it had been for many, many years.

  But this night, with this woman…mattered. He felt the pangs of guilt like never before, and the realization both irritated and stunned him.

  Forget about her. Don’t think about her in any way except as a vessel for your survival.

  Gina was nothing more than a meal.

  And yet, something about her compelled him in ways he didn’t understand. Her curious violet eyes lit a fire in his cold heart, nearly melting the centuries-old wall of ice that his death and transformation had formed.

  Although he hated drinking human blood, he did it to survive. He’d always been repulsed by that part of who he was, and yet he had no choice.

  Besides, nowadays it wasn’t even necessary to kill the donor. The majority of the time it was willingly given. He only had to make an actual kill once a year, and even then he hadn’t thought twice about doing so.

  Until tonight.

  The hell with it. Already the burning hunger made him ache with the need to possess her. He wanted to be inside her, his cock, his teeth, drinking her juices, her blood, her very soul until there was nothing left of her.

  Then, he’d be satiated, and revived for another year.

  At the cost of Gina’s life.

  He mentally damned himself.

  It was time.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked.

  She turned and smiled at him, innocence glowing in her eyes. Damn.

  “Yes, I’d love one.”

  He popped open a bottle of champagne, not wanting to cloud her blood with hard liquor. The champagne would relax her. He would relax her. When it was time for him to take her throat, at least he’d know she’d been pleasured first.

  “Thank you,” she said, accepting the glass from his hands. She gulped it down in several swallows, then let loose a hiccup that made him laugh.

  She was nervous.

  She was adorable.

  With every passing minute, he hated this more and more.

  “Sorry,” she said, covering her mouth. “The bubbles do that to me.”

  “It’s all right.” He poured her more. She sipped it this time, her gaze darting around the room.

  “Would you like to see the place?” he offered.

  “Sure.”

  He led her past the sunken living room and into a formal dining area which led to the kitchen. The kitchen was huge, with stainless steel appliances that shined in the overhead lights.

  “I can see myself in your refrigerator,” she marveled, sticking her tongue out at her reflection.

  Deacon laughed at the simple things she appreciated. How long had it been since he’d taken a look around and been thankful for all he had?

  Hell, what did he have to be thankful for? He lived a lonely, solitary existence, surviving on the blood of others. He refused to take a lifemate, or at least one hadn’t come into his life that he felt compelled to keep. And the worst part was having to make a kill once a year to keep his undead body functioning. A body that should have been laid to rest over two centuries ago.

  No, he didn’t have much to be grateful for. And yet, he fought for each new year, took continued life for himself over someone else’s.

  The best thing that could happen for both him and Gina would be for her to figure out who he was and drive a stake through his heart before he had a chance to kill her. Then she’d be spared and the decision would be taken out of his hands.

  Maybe he’d find some peace that way.

  But that scenario was unlikely. By the time she figured it out, it would be too late.

  He led her down the hall toward the master bedroom, the size of many people’s homes. Sometimes the opulent lifestyle he lived disgusted even him.

  He stood in the doorway and watched as Gina walked to the window.

  “This is amazing,” she whispered, then stood at the window as she had earlier, peering out at the lights of the city. “You must love being able to stay in all these penthouse suites. The view is incredible up here.”

  Incredible. Right. Nothing like penthouse suites in the finest hotels. At least his job kept him funded so he could live the life he’d grown accustomed to all those years ago. As if that even mattered.

  When was the last time he’d laid in a bed and actually slept? When was the last time he held a warm body close to his just to feel a life force, a live heart beating against his chest?

  And why did he suddenly ache for that feeling more than the need to slake his bloodlust on an innocent virgin? Why did he want this woman to sleep in his arms tonight? To remain alive, to remain with him?

  It was the hunger. It was driving him mad. He needed to deflower Gina and then take her blood. Then he could go back to being the heartless, uncaring bastard loved by millions of women worldwide.

  Chapter Three

  Gina tried to focus on the view outside, but a flicker of movement by the door caught her eye. The lights went out, casting the room in darkness. She tried to control her breathing, but the sound of her own pulse pounded in her ears, the roar of her blood the only thing she could hear.

  She sensed Deacon’s approach—he was so quiet she didn’t hear him walk over. He stopped behind her, his heavy breaths mirroring her own.

  She’d bet he wasn’t nervous.

  Afraid to move, she stood perfectly still, her mind awash in images of how this would happen, wondering what he would do next.

  Part of her wanted him to lift her skirts up and get this over with fast, killing the nervous anticipation boiling within her.

  The other part of her wanted him to take his time and make the night last forever.

  He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She shivered, whether from excitement or fear, she didn’t know. His warm breath caressed her neck. His body was hard and muscled, so different from hers.

  Hard. Yes, he was definitely hard. He moved against her, his erection brushing her ass. He tightened his grip around her waist as if he feared she’d move away. No way in hell was she going anywhere.

  Every part of her tuned in to his breathing, his scent, the angles and planes of his body and how perfectly he fit against her. For a second she wondered if he’d find her body lacking, then cast that thought aside. This hadn’t been her idea. She hadn’t propositioned him, he’d asked her.

  “Are you ready for this, Gina?” he whispered.

  “Yes.” More than ready. Eager to experience what she never had before. Her legs trembled and he squeezed her hip, molding her body to his.

  She nearly crawled out of her skin when his tongue grazed her neck. Long, slow licks starting just under and behind her ear, then traveling down to her bare shoulder and back. She shivered and moaned, knowing it was from excitement, not fear. A throbbing ache of need rushed between her legs, heating her, moistening her, readying her for him.

  Deacon moved his hand up slowly, stopping at her breast. He caressed her lazily, as if he had all the time in the world.

  Part of her wished the lights were on so she could watch in awe as he put his hands on her. The other part was grateful for the darkness. She could hide in the black night. Hide her body, her fears that somehow she wouldn’t please him.

  “Oh no, Gina. You’re beautiful. Your body is a lush garden of treasures. I’m going to enjoy uncovering it inch by gorgeous inch.”

  Had he read her mind, or did he sense her hesitation? She didn’t have time to ponder because he bit her, lightly, just above her shoulder. She shuddered at the primal act, juices seeping from her throbbing cunt. His stiff cock pressed insistently against her buttocks.

  She wanted to turn around, throw herself in his arms and beg him to do it Now, quickly. She was ready, dammit. But still, he held her tight against him. He continued to nibble her shoulder, moving nip by nip towards her neck. She responded by grinding back against his ever-growing cock. When he reached the base of her neck, he licked her again.

  “Ah, such a sweet torment, isn’t it? You smell like roses, Gina.”

  She wished she could respond, but her mind was locked around the sensations he evoked within her. This was not what she’d expected. A fast tumble on the bed and the end of her virginity was what she’d envisioned. Not this slow seduction that drove her crazy with desire.

  He threaded his fingers into her hair and wound it around his hand, brushing it to the side, allowing him access to the back of her neck. He rocked against her, his hardened length promising her delights she had only dreamed about.

  A low moan escaped her lips when Deacon sank his teeth into the nape of her neck. Hard, not gently nibbling as he had been doing earlier, but firm enough to cause her eyes to water. And yet so damned arousing she couldn’t help but cry out at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

  He bit again, harder, higher up her neck, like an animal trying to eat her alive. She pictured a tiger leaping to grab its prey by the neck just before dragging it to the ground and devouring it.

  Would he devour her?

  Deacon let out a low growl and bit her again. Her knees almost buckled from the sparks shooting through her. Her juices flowed down the inside of her thighs. She couldn’t bear this any longer.

 

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