Would he gentle a woman with coaxing words and soothing caresses when he took her carotid between his teeth? Or would he spring on her like the predator he was, dominating her with speed and force and white-hot power?
Some troubling part of her she didn’t recognize stirred with the need to know.
Sera groaned. She squirmed in her seat as her pulse thudded faster and erotic warmth bloomed between her thighs.
She wanted to cross her legs to relieve the unwelcome ache, but the skirts of her ceremonial dress were too restricting. Elsewhere in the banquet room, her father was reciting the traditional terms of the handfast. She only half-listened, too distracted by Jehan’s presence beside her and the heat of his gaze on her as she fidgeted and shifted in her chair.
It suddenly occurred to her that the room had gone strangely quiet. Expectantly quiet.
All eyes in the room were fixed on her, and her father was no longer speaking.
Jehan stood up and pointedly cleared his throat. “It’s time for us to go, Seraphina.”
“Oh.” She rose to her feet, eager to escape the weight of everyone’s gazes. Plus, she couldn’t wait to put some much-needed distance between herself and Jehan.
But he wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving?
“Don’t forget the kiss!” someone shouted cheerfully from among the gathering. “It’s tradition to seal the pact with a kiss!”
Leila. Damn that girl.
Sera shot a narrowed glare at her exuberant sibling but her grin showed no remorse.
“Kiss her!” she shouted again.
And then across the room, Marcel called for the kiss too. Someone else picked up the chant, then another. Before long, the entire place was applauding and thundering with the command. “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!”
Sera turned a miserable look on Jehan. “We don’t really have t—”
Before she could finish, he moved closer and his mouth slanted over hers in a blast of heat. His lips caressed hers, impossibly soft, achingly sensual. His hands held her face, and yes, they were gentle. His kiss was too, but beneath its tenderness was a possessiveness—a raw power—that rocked her.
He mastered her mouth in an instant, and every brush of his lips had her aching to be claimed by him.
Her thoughts scattered. Her knees went a little boneless.
Even worse, the coil of warmth that had gathered between her thighs a few moments ago blazed molten and wild now.
Sera raised her hands to grip his shoulders, if only to keep from sagging against him in front of a hundred onlookers. All the reassurances of their private agreement to spend the next week in separate corners flew away like leaves on the wind as Jehan kissed her. She couldn’t help it. She moaned against his mouth, her pulse quickening, hammering even louder than the cheers of the gathering around them.
Jehan released her abruptly. His blue eyes glittered with sparks of amber heat, their transformation making his desire all too clear. He ran his tongue over his wet lips and she saw the points of his fangs, now gleaming in his mouth like razor-sharp diamonds. His breath rasped out of him, rough and raw.
“Let’s go,” he growled for her ears only. “The sooner we get this damned farce over with, the better.”
Then he took her by the hand and stalked away from the table with her in tow.
CHAPTER 6
Jehan’s body was still rock hard and vibrating with lust more than an hour after he and Seraphina were delivered to the oasis retreat.
Holy hell. That kiss...
As short-lived and chaste as it had been, it had gripped him in a way that staggered him.
He hadn’t been able to deny how attracted he was to Seraphina from the instant he laid eyes on her. Now he knew she wanted him too. Her response to their kiss had left no question about that. The color that had rushed up her throat and into her cheeks couldn’t be blamed on anything else, nor could her soft little moans. He’d felt her desire for him. He’d breathed in the sweet scent of her arousal, felt it drumming in her blood.
His own blood had answered, and now that his mouth had sampled a taste of Seraphina’s kiss, everything primal and male in him—everything Breed—pounded with a dark¸ dangerous need for more.
Somehow, he’d managed to rein it in back at the Darkhaven celebration.
Now, he just had to make sure to keep his desire in check for the duration of their confinement at the private villa.
Eight nights, that’s all, he reassured himself.
One hundred and ninety-two hours, give or take the few that had already passed tonight.
Which meant somewhere around eleven thousand minutes. All of them to be spent in too-close quarters with a woman who lit up every nerve ending in his body like a flame set to dry tinder.