Delilah Devlin - My Immortal Knight 04 by Relentless Read Free Book Online Page A

to the brim.
    But the words! Sexy, nasty words that made her flinch while at the same
time incited her to orgasm. She wanted his whispers again.
    Where the devil was he?
    Her eyes opened, blinking at the fading gray light filtering behind the
blinds. She listened, stretching her senses to determine whether he stirred
anywhere in the house. Instead, she found she was completely alone. Only
lingering traces of his tangy blood and spicy cologne remained, and no
footsteps could be heard anywhere in the house.
    Her disappointment was keen. She’d hoped to feel the slide of his
strong hands and snuggle next to his chest, and perhaps, enjoy a slow ride into
erotic wonderland. Then an appalling thought occurred.
    She’d slept!
    Pia jackknifed to a sitting position. She’d slept in Max Weir’s bed!
Had he guessed she was a vamp? Or did he just think she was a very heavy
sleeper? Her gut told her he had to know. She couldn’t imagine a man with his
libido letting any woman in his bed sleep throughout the day. And if he’d tried
to wake her for a little morning action…
    Her heart galloped, and she raised a shaking hand and stared—nope, she
wasn’t disintegrating, and by the ache in her shoulder and other parts best not
considered at the moment—she wasn’t a ghost.
    As deep as his prejudice was reported to run, she didn’t know why he’d
left her alive. But here she was in his bed—not even a splinter of wood poking
from her chest. She glanced down and gasped. A burnished brown X was painted on
her breast.
    She scratched at the flecks of dried blood. It didn’t take a brain
surgeon to understand his warning. He may have let her live for now, but he’d
been mighty tempted to end her life.
    When she scooted to the edge of the bed, something smooth and hard
rolled toward her hip. Her hand closed around it, and she raised it in front of
her face. He’d been more than tempted! She screeched and tossed the stake
across the room. Then she leapt off the bed, searching the floor for her
clothing.
    They were folded in a neat pile on top of his bureau, her shoes beside
them. Like he wanted her to dress in a hurry and haul her ass out of his house.
    Her shoulders drooped. What had she expected? One night of incredible
sex and he’d leave her a love letter?
    Best not to tempt fate twice. She dressed in a frenzy and hurried out
the door. She’d gotten the message loud and clear—the next time he’d play for
keeps.
    *
* * * *
    Pia fretted with the fringe on the hem of her sleeve. She’d found a
dangling thread and yanked it. “Shit!” Now, the gold fringe was only half as
long as the one on her other sleeve. And she’d wanted to make a good
impression.
    The Compound, as its new owners had dubbed it, was a work in progress.
From the details she’d gleaned since a security guard let her through the gates
minutes earlier, the estate would be a cozy beige and gold haven with none of
the opulence that usually marked a Master’s residence. Overstuffed leather
chairs and sofas faced inward, inviting one to linger for a chat. But Pia’s
nerves hadn’t settled after her mad dash from Max’s house, so she paced, trying
to think of what she’d say about her latest failure.
    Had she made a mistake coming directly to The Compound? What if she ran
into Quentin? Did he still hold a grudge? She’d only been a lowly operative in
the Masters’ Northwest Council when she’d last seen him. Maybe he wouldn’t
remember her.
    Perhaps she was just being paranoid, feeling off-kilter since her
debacle with Max. If she ever saw him again and his expression held one ounce
of the disgust she now felt for her deception, she’d crumble.
    No, she’d best slink back to Seattle, her tail between her legs, and
forget about the brawny human whose strength and dark sensuality had so
captivated her. She couldn’t bear to face him again.
    Not that she hadn’t dreamed in a corner of her bruised heart of seeing
him one last time. At least to apologize.