Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10)(45)

His mouth felt so good…sensual and warm, his tongue delicate as he slid it around, tasting her sleepy skin, his lips tight and strong as he sucked and licked while she tunneled her fingers into his damp hair, holding on for dear life.

“Savina,” he whispered, lifting away then burying his face in her neck as he backed her fully against the wall, pushing his hips up against hers, “I’m going to tear this if you don’t get rid of it.”

She gave a short laugh, and pushed his hands away from the delicate lace of her shift. “Better not,” she said. “It’s the only one I have with me.”

“You can sleep without it,” he said, his hands sliding up her torso then cupping her breasts as she shimmied out of the nightgown. It had barely joined her robe on the floor, tangling around their feet in a pool, when Max lifted her up.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he found her with his fingers, all wet and swollen and hot. Oh, yes, she thought as her head tipped back against the wall as he gave a soft sigh of his own. Yes.

Then he shifted, and her eyes flew open as he drove up inside her. They both groaned with pleasure—it had been too long—and Savina tightened her legs around his waist, burying her face in his hair, gripping his shoulders as he moved with powerful strokes.

As she came, Savina bit her lip, smothering a cry that would surely alert the household otherwise. She arched against him, eagerly taking the full force of his last thrust as he groaned his release.

She rested there, head back against the wall, panting and damp, smiling and sated. He still held her up against the slippery tile with an arm around her waist. Max was breathing heavily too, and he helped ease her legs from around his waist, settling her back onto the floor.

“Well, then,” she breathed, suddenly feeling really good. Her hand slipped down the front of him, traveling over solid pecs and a ridged belly, then slipped around to pat his arse. “I’m definitely awake now.”

He grinned down at her, terribly pleased with himself, and brushed the hair from her eyes. “And I find I’m not as weary as I thought I was.”

Then he stepped back, his expression changing from hubristic to something closed and wary. “You and Macey talked last night.”

Savina picked up her nightgown and slithered back into it. “We did.”

“Did she…did she say anything about me?”

Her heart gave a pang at the mix of emotion in his face. “Not very much, to be honest.”

“She hates me, doesn’t she? I’m gone for thirteen years, then the minute I show up, I stake her.” He looked miserable. No wonder he hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

But Savina resisted the urge to smooth away all of his pain and uncertainty. Only Max could do that, with the help of Macey—and surely that would happen in its own time.

After all, Savina herself had mixed emotions about her relationship with him. She was besotted with the man, and he loved and respected her…even if he was an idiot sometimes. He was simply afraid.

The big, bad, fierce Summas Gardella was afraid of feeling too much…for he knew how easily it could be taken away. He knew how it could be used against him as well—and that, Savina had to admit, was a compelling reason for his reluctance to become attached or committed to anyone.

His decision to see Macey—though it had actually been forced upon him when he realized Nicholas Iscariot had Rasputin’s amulet—was a step in the right direction.

“You have to give Macey time,” Savina replied, touching his face. “After all, she thought you were dead for thirteen years. What do you expect—for her to run up to you and call you Daddy while she hugs you and cries with joy?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. But…she won’t even— She calls me Max. And she won’t even talk to me. All she does is give me angry looks.”

“Give her time. I did warn you, didn’t I, that you needed to take things slow and expect some anger and coldness? What happened the first time you saw her?”

He looked away. Pursed his lips. Sighed. “I…uh…walked in on her with—kissing Woodmore.”

Savina couldn’t control a burst of laughter. “And you’re surprised she wasn’t happy to see you? Max…” She shook her head. “And I’m sure you took it well, didn’t you—walking in on them. I’m sure you were polite and warm and expressed your delight at seeing your daughter for the first time since she was eight.”

“Well, Christ, Woodmore looked like he was… Well, hell. She’s my daughter.” Max ground his teeth. “Right. Give it time. I just hope we both live through these next few days.”

The warrior was back, the lover had gone…but Savina was used to that, and she didn’t mind. He wouldn’t be who he was if he didn’t have that dedication to his life’s work.

She stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss. “How about I get a shower now.”

He kissed her back, but didn’t move. His expression had changed again. He seemed ready to speak, but wasn’t able to.

“Max?”

All at once, his face seemed to crumble. He snatched her up, gathering her into a suffocating embrace. “Oh God, Savina,” he whispered against her hair. “Don’t…ever…leave me.”

Her eyes flew open wide with utter shock, her lashes brushing against his neck. Had she heard him correctly? She tried to pull away, but he was holding her too tightly. And he was trembling a little.

“Max,” she said, realizing that he’d realized he needed something from her…something he was articulating for the first time. Something that terrified him. Something that turned her insides upside down with tentative joy and happiness.

“I’ve never done the leaving,” she said. It’s been you who couldn’t stay.

But she didn’t need to speak that part.

She eased back enough to look up at him, taking his beloved face in her hands. “I would never leave you, Max Denton. You know that. You’d be a mess without me.”

He nodded, a flicker of humor gracing his face. Then his eyes turned sober and wary, and as he looked down at her, they softened. “Marry me, Savina.”

She stilled, tamped down the rush of surprise and delight and became realistic. “I—I don’t know, Max…look at where we are—”

“Yes, we’re in a bathroom—not exactly the best place for a proposal, I know, but—”

“No, I mean…where we are. You’re feeling vulnerable because of Macey, and—”

“And because of the way you were looking at Woodmore,” he said in a steely voice.

“Woodmore?” she scoffed. “Don’t be silly. He’s as beautiful as a dark angel, but he’s not for me. Though I would like to photograph him—anyway, besides, that is not a good reason to get married. Because you think I was looking at Woodmore. Hell, Max, I look at other men all the time, but it doesn’t mean—”

“Christ. You do?” He looked utterly flummoxed. “When?”

Savina laughed. What a lunatic. The man had such an ego he thought he was the only creature she noticed. So she wasn’t about to tell him he was the only man she’d ever looked at twice.

“Max, we can talk about this later. We’re in a bathroom. I have an appointment at two. And you’ve got to go off and save the world.” Her smile faltered a little. Yes, it would always be that way—him going off to save the world, nearly dying at least once a week.

“Right. All right. But…this isn’t an impetuous thing, Savina. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And last night…well, I had a lot to mull over. And I realized I’m a terrible father, and a cowardly lover, and…” He shrugged. “Aren’t you going to argue with me?” he asked hopefully.

“Max.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “You’ve been a terrible father—I’ve told you that before. But you’re trying to fix that. And as far as a lover…well, I’m smiling, aren’t I?” She pecked him on the cheek, shoved his towel back at him, and said, “I love you, Max,” then flung open the bathroom door and shoved him out—right into the path of Macey.

Oh dear. That was awkward.

Savina grinned and closed the bathroom door before he could bolt back inside.

Let him handle it. That would be a nice father-daughter interlude.

She chuckled and turned on the shower.



+ + +

Max felt his face go hot as his daughter’s eyes flashed from the closed bathroom door to him, then skittered away from his unclothed torso.

Thanks a lot, Savina.

“Good morning,” he said, managing somehow to recover from the fact that he’d just: one, had his marriage proposal shot down; two, exited from a lavatory where it was obvious he’d just been in there, naked, with a woman; three, was clutching a towel to the front of him.

In front of his daughter.

Thanks again, Savina.

Macey just looked at him. Then, her face blossoming red, she spun and marched back to the bedroom she was sharing with Savina—which was the same room he’d been sharing with Savina.

Usurped by his own daughter. Bloody hell.

More than an hour later, however, Max had forgotten—or at least was pretending to have forgotten—that awkward moment as he and the others, including Woodmore, were gathered around Grady’s kitchen table.