Lover At Last(197)

And she knew who it was.

Breath going short, heart starting to beat fast, she put her hand up to the front of her throat for some reason.

Turn away, she told herself. Run away.

But…she did not.



Assail had not meant to go to his burglar’s home. But the tracking device was still on her Audi, and when it had informed him that she’d returned to the address, he was incapable of not materializing there.

He did not want to be seen, however, so he chose the backyard, and how fortuitous: When his burglar walked into the kitchen, he got a full view of her—as well as her housemate.

The older human female was rather enchanting in an elderly kind of way, her hair in curlers, her robe bright as a spring day, her face beautiful in spite of her age. She was not happy, however, as she sat at the table and glared across at what Assail surmised had to be her grandaughter.

Words were exchanged, and he smiled a little in the darkness. Much love between the pair of them—much annoyance, too. And wasn’t that the way with older relatives, whether you were human or vampire.

Oh, how he was eased by knowing she did not live with a male.

Unless, of course, that one she had met at the restaurant also stayed in the little house.

As he growled softly in the dark, the dog in the house next door began to bark, warning his human owners of that of which they were unaware.

A moment later, his burglar was left alone in the kitchen, her expression one of both resignation and frustration.

As she stood there, crossing her arms, shaking her head, he told himself he should go. Instead, he did what he should not: He reached through the glass with his mind and let his need unleash.

Instantly, she responded, that lithe body straightening from its lean against the counter, her eyes flipping to his through the window.

“Come to me,” he said into the cold.

And she did.

The back door creaked as she opened it with her hip, forcing the bottom corner to carve a pie slice in the snow of the deck.

Her scent was ambrosia to him. And as he closed the distance between them, his body surged with a predatory lust.

Assail didn’t stop until he was mere inches from her. Up close, chest-to-breast, she was so much smaller than he; yet the effect she had on him was mountainous: His hands curled up; his thighs tightened; his heart beat with hot blood.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you again,” she whispered.

His cock hardened even further, just from the sound of her voice. “It appears that we have unfinished business.”

And it did not involve money, drugs, or information.

“I meant what I said to you.” She brushed her hair back, as if she were having difficulty standing still. “No more spying on my part. I promise.”

“Indeed, you have given me your word. But it seems that I miss having your eyes upon me.” Her little hiss carried across the chilly air between their mouths. “Among other things.”

She looked away quickly. Looked back. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? Because of that human you were having dinner with last night?”

His burglar frowned—probably at the use of the word human. “No. Not because of him.”

“So he does not live here.”

“No, it’s just my grandmother and me.”

“I approve.”

“Why would you have any opinion at all?”

“I ask myself that daily,” he muttered. “But explain, if it’s not because of that man, why shall we not meet?”

His burglar pushed her hair over her shoulder again and shook her head. “You’re…trouble.”

“Says the woman who is almost always armed.”

She tilted up her chin. “You think I didn’t see that bloody blade in your back hall?”

“Oh, that.” He dismissed the comment with a flick of the hand. “Just taking care of business.”

“I thought you’d killed him.”

“Who?”

“Mark—my friend.”

“Friend,” he heard himself growl. “Is that what he is.”

“So who did you kill?”

Assail took out a cigar to light, but she stopped him. “My grandmother will smell it.”

He glanced up at the closed windows of the second floor. “How?”

“Just please don’t. Not here.”

With an incline of his head, he acquiesced—even though he couldn’t remember ever declining one for anybody.

“Who did you kill?”

This was asked factually, without the hysteria one might expect from a female. “It is nothing that concerns you.”

“Better I don’t know, huh.”

Given that he was a different species than her? Yes. Indeed.

“’Twas nobody you would ever know. I will tell you, however, that I had grounds. He betrayed me.”