Megan moaned low in her throat. She didn’t know what Rhys was doing but she hoped he would never stop. Heat sizzled through her, heightening her desire until she was lost in a hazy world of sensual pleasure, uncertain of where he ended and she began.
She cried his name aloud, her nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, as heat spiraled through her, erupting into flames that threatened to consume her. She held onto him, her body writhing restlessly beneath his, until the fire cooled and she lay sated and content in his arms.
Rhys rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, so that they lay face-to-face, their bodies still meshed. Megan felt like purring as his hand lightly stroked her back.
Murmuring his name, she closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
Rhys gazed at the vision in his arms. Warm and womanly, she carried the fragrance of flowers in her hair, the musky scent of sex—hers and his—on her skin. It pleased him that he had satisfied her as no other. He had shamelessly read her mind, knew that no other man had ever pleasured her as he had. The knowledge stroked his ego. Not that satisfying women had ever been a problem for him, before or after he became a vampire. Women had always been drawn to him. He had loved them and left them without a qualm. But Megan, ah, sweet Megan with her honey-brown eyes and tender heart, she was different. If he lived to be a thousand, he knew he would never forget her.
A familiar tingling warned of dawn’s approach. He could feel the sun long before it was visible.
If only he could stay. If only he could make love to her each night, see her face upon waking. He had never regretted being a vampire. Once he had been turned, he had faced it, accepted it, and moved on. But now, for the first time in his long existence, he knew he would gladly give up immortality for the chance to spend one mortal lifetime in this woman’s arms.
Slipping out of bed, he dressed quickly, then stood at her bedside, debating whether to wake her. He decided against it. It would be dawn soon, no time to stay and make love to her again as he so longed to do.
Murmuring, “I love you,” he brushed a kiss across her cheek and left the house, hoping he had time for one quick errand.
Megan woke feeling wonderful until she looked to her left and saw that she was alone in bed. Again. And then she smiled. Once again, Rhys had left her after a night of lovemaking, but she couldn’t be angry this time, not when the blankets were covered with vibrant red rose petals. Not when there were vases of flowers on every surface in the room. Not when she read the note he had left on his pillow:
Megan, my love.
You will be in my thoughts,
and in my heart,
until I hold you in
my arms once again.
RC
Picking up the note, she kissed it, then slid out of bed. She couldn’t stop smiling, not while she showered, not while she pulled on a pair of sweats. She scooped up the loose petals and dropped them in a bowl before making the bed.
Taking a rose from one of the vases on the dresser, she plucked the petals one by one. “He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me….” She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t help shouting with joy as the last petal proved that he loved her. It was nonsense, a child’s game, but it reassured her just the same.
Tucking his note in the pocket of her sweatpants, she went downstairs. There were more flowers in the living room, on the tables, on the mantel. Red ones, white ones, pink and yellow ones. And still more in the kitchen, on the table, on the counter, on top of the refrigerator.
At home and later at work, it seemed the hours would never pass. Time and again she patted the note in the pocket of her dress for reassurance. He loved her. She would see him soon.
Rhys sat in his car in the parking lot at Shore’s, his phone pressed to his ear. He scowled when Nicholas informed him that there had been two killings in Las Cruces, three in Albuquerque, and at least five in Santa Fe. “What else have you found out?”
“Nothing,” Nick admitted. “The killer’s as elusive as Jack the Ripper. So, what do you want us to do now?”
“Keep looking.”
“Adams is getting on my nerves.”
“Yeah? Well, if you can’t handle it, I’ll send Adrianna to take his place.”
“That’s not even funny,” Nick muttered, and disconnected the call.
Rhys laughed as he slid his phone into his pants’ pocket and got out of the car. No one liked Adrianna.
Entering the store, he put all thoughts of hunters and vampires out of his mind. These few hours were his. When he was with Megan, he didn’t care if the rest of the world went to hell.
Chapter 16
Sitting beneath a cottonwood tree in Alamogordo, Tomás Villagrande gazed up at the vast vault of the sky. With his preternatural vision, he saw many more of the heavenly bodies than did mere mortals. Whether at sea or ashore, he had always been fascinated by the night sky, had often wondered if there was indeed life on other planets. Of course, he didn’t believe in aliens—either gray or white or green. The one thing he did believe in—the one thing he feared—was the existence of a supreme being. Believing in heaven, he also believed in hell. And judgment. Should his own existence ever end, he knew he would have to account for the hundreds of lives he had taken.
With a sigh of disgust, he shook such thoughts away. He had no intention of ending his existence any time soon. And worrying about what awaited him was pointless. He couldn’t change the past, couldn’t resurrect the people he had killed, or the ones he had loved.
And he had loved many since he became a vampire. He grinned. “So many women,” he murmured. “So much time.”
He had loved a woman from Alamogordo back in the 1800s. A pretty little Navajo girl with tawny skin, long ebony hair, and bright black eyes. Alamogordo had changed a lot since those days. Once a small railroad, ranching, and farming community, it was now a thriving metropolis. Not far away stood Oliver Lee State Park. In the past, numerous battles had taken place there between the Indians and the cavalry. Today, it was a historic landmark.
Yes, he mused, the city had changed and grown. Alamogordo was also home to Holloman Air Force Base and the White Sands Missile Range. Mortals never changed, he thought with a rueful shake of his head. They were always looking for new and better ways to destroy themselves.
Rising, he strolled through the desert, enjoying the quiet, the moonlight. Animal predators gave him a wide birth, sensing a killer even more deadly than themselves.
Pausing, he stretched his arms over his head. It was time to move on. He had a score to settle with an old friend on the West Coast.