some sort of growl deep in his throat, but then this
was Byrnes. Caleb Byrnes, who kept his emotions
locked away under lock and key.
"No, I didn't," he shot back. "None of this
started with any romantic intentions. I'll concede
that. Passionate ones, yes, but not romantic. You
drove me crazy, Ingrid. You haunted me. And I
wanted you. But I didn't want forever."
Her shoulders dropped, almost in relief.
Byrnes took another step toward her, closing
the gap between them until the backs of his fingers
brushed against her shoulder. "But I was lying to
myself."
Ingrid's gaze shot to his in shock.
"I kept telling myself that sex was all this
was, as if I could somehow convince the part of
me that knew better." A hand reached out and
pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. As cool
as marble, his hand curled against her cheek,
cupping her face. "And I almost believed it. Until I
found you nearly torn apart in my mother's room.
Until I watched a vampire chase you out on a
bridge with an explosive device strapped to its
back. I can't pretend that this—what lies between
us—means nothing to me. If I look at us from a
rational perspective, this doesn't make any sense.
We're a disaster waiting to happen." His face
twisted as he grimaced. "But the idea of not having
you... of not being with you.... I couldn't think of
anything worse. And so I've tried not to be selfish.
I've tried to step away and let you be, but I can't do
it anymore." That hand curled behind her nape,
dragging her closer to his body, until his forehead
brushed against hers and his breath caressed her
lips. "I want you, Ingrid Miller. And I don't know
where this decision will take us, but I do know that
I can't deny myself any longer. And if you think this
is just about a bet, well... you'd be wrong. I want
you, and I want all of you. And I don't know what
to do with it."
Ingrid's hands curled into the lapels of his
shirt as she held on for dear life, whilst everything
she'd known shattered into dust.
Byrnes wanted her.
Not just for sex.
Forever?
"Say something," he murmured, drawing back
just enough to look at her. "This is possibly the
most terrifying moment of my life."
A shaky breath escaped her. She kept trying to
sort out the puzzle pieces of their relationship, for
it was easy to relegate it to little more than
physical and not think anything more. Or no, not
easy. Safer.
She didn't feel safe anymore. She felt like the
ground had dropped out from under her feet. "Are
you serious?" She pushed away from him and
paced past the window, dragging a hand through
her hair.
"Deadly.”
Ingrid swallowed. How could she do this?
How could she risk it? “Damn you, I’ve lost
everything. I can’t—”
“I know you lost your family, Ingrid.” He
followed her. “I know I can’t replace them. But
perhaps we could create something new together.”
Something new. It was so tempting.
“You’re not the only one who fears the
future.” He laughed faintly. “Do you think that any
of this was planned? Do you think that I’m not
scared that I won’t measure up? I know nothing of
romance. I know nothing of being... being a
husband. Even a lover. But I know that I want to
try. I know that I can't walk away from you.”
Ingrid swallowed. Those words.
"Give me your third challenge," he demanded,
his words a rasp. A tremor ran through him, as
though he repressed himself.
And suddenly, a part of her didn't want him to
hesitate. Ingrid met his eyes, seeing the need in
them, the fierce fury. All she'd ever wanted was to
see Caleb Byrnes ruffled, to drive him to the point
where he lost his mind.
And now she had it.
I'm scared, she'd once said to Rosa.
That's how you know its real, had been the
reply.
And it was real. She couldn't stop running
from this. Couldn't pretend that Caleb Byrnes didn't
make her heart beat faster, and hope spread its
wings within her chest. Here was a man that she...
loved. A man that she could make a future with, if
only she dared.
So be it.
Ingrid tipped her chin up, her decision made,
and shrugged out of the navy velvet coat she wore.
It hit the floor, and his gaze followed it then jerked
back up to hers.
"The challenge is this: show me what it's like
not to feel so alone," she told him.
She wasn't afraid anymore; Byrnes always
spoke the truth. He meant this.
Ingrid took a step forward, sliding her hands
up his chest and the sleek leather of his coat. "Fill
up the empty spot inside me." Her lips grazed his
ear and she bit his lobe. "Be mine, Caleb. For
tonight, for all the nights that remain. Forever."
"Challenge accepted," he growled, and caught
her by the hips.
Their mouths met as Ingrid locked her long
legs around his waist, her arms sliding around his
broad shoulders.
God, he was strong. She clasped the back of
his muscled neck, her tongue darting against his as
he strode toward the side of the room. Byrnes
kissed her back as though he thought she was going
to be taken from him; as if this spell could break if
they had a moment to think it through.
She didn't need that moment. And this spell
was hers, damn it, her dream to take in both hands.
Nothing would deny her. Not anymore.
I love you. She said it with a kiss, not quite
daring to put it in words. And he answered in kind,
his mouth a harsh, desperate claiming. You're mine,
his lips told her.
Byrnes set her on the vanity, wedging his hips
between her thighs. Rough hands slid up her
corseted waist, the pads of his fingers grazing the
smooth slope of her upper breasts. "Jesus," he
rasped. "How's a man to think...?"
"That's the point." She nipped at his mouth,
kissed him again, harder, her hands stripping his
coat off his shoulders. "You're not supposed to be
able to."
His coat hit the floor. Byrnes's lips slid to her
jaw, the rasp of his stubble grazing her throat as
she tilted her head back. A shudder ran through
him. "I'm a blue blood, love." His hands stilled on
her waist. "The second I stop thinking is the second
all the darkness runs to the surface." His lips
nuzzled at her throat, sheer want shuddering
through him.
Ingrid paused. She knew what he was
suggesting. "You want my blood."
Those fingers curled into iron claws as he
grasped her hips. "It's not that simple." The breath
exploded out of him as he tore his face from her
throat. "It seems to be more of an urge to mark
you... as mine. I've never drunk from the vein
before. Never really wanted to."
A little thrill tore through her, and her nipples
hardened into points. It took all of a second to
make her decision. Byrnes wanted this, but feared
the loss of control. And she found she rather liked
the idea of him marking her. "Do it," she
whispered.
He hesitated.
"Do you think I can't handle you at your best?"
She curled a fist in his hair, and forced him to look
at her.
Those icy blue eyes were glazed, pinpricks of
darkness growing in them. "I know you can handle
me, anytime you want." Then Byrnes turned those
clever fingers to her armored corset and the thin
chemise she wore beneath it. "Stop me if I hurt
you."
A shiver ran through her as he kissed his way
down her throat, pausing at the lace edge of the
chemise. "You won't hurt me."
Then he was dragging her chemise up, tugging
it over her head until her breasts were free, round
and heavy, swollen for his touch.
"Jesus." He curled his hands around them,
filling his palms with her breasts. "I forget how
by surprise all over again."
Ingrid dragged his mouth to hers. He might
claim he knew nothing of romance, but his blurted
truths filled her heart with joy. She arched into his
touch, the sensation of his hands on her whispering
through her blood. Then his mouth was there,
sucking gently on her nipple. Ingrid groaned,
sliding her hands through his hair.
"Yes. Please." She bit her lip. "There."
Byrnes knelt and stripped her trousers from
her legs, tugging them down over her sensitive feet.
Ingrid thrust her foot against his chest, pinning him
there as he looked up with blackened eyes. The
hunger had him in its grasp, but he smiled, as if
challenging her to relent. And she did.
She wanted this too much. Her breath came
hard and fast, wetness slick between her thighs.
"Do it," she whispered. "Take me. Claim me. Make
me yours."
Byrnes pressed forward, her knee caught up
between them. Suddenly he was the one in charge,
locking her knee against his chest as he dragged
her other leg around his hips. The heat of his
erection rasped against her drawers as he showed
her in no uncertain manner how much he wanted
her. "As my lady wishes."
Then he tugged his knife from the sheath at his
hip. It kissed her throat so lightly, so sweetly, that
she barely felt the sting. And then his mouth locked
over the wound, a gentle suckling sensation that
swiftly turned to fierce desire.
Ingrid cried out as that sensation speared right
through her core. Jesus. She hadn't expected this. It
was like lightning through her veins, like setting
fire to oil, as each suck of his mouth pulled
directly on the heated flesh between her thighs. The
connection between them was intense. She felt like
she truly belonged in that moment, belonged in his
arms, belonged with this man.
And suddenly, it wasn't enough to be merely
marked like this.
"I need you," she gasped, and thrust her hand
between them, finding the buttons to his tight
trousers. Byrnes made a grunting sound deep in his
throat, as he swallowed her blood.
"Yes," he breathed as she tugged them open.
His cock surged into her hand, hungry for
attention. Ingrid curled her fingers around it and
squeezed, then she was guiding him between her
legs, tearing the slit in her drawers apart. Feeling
the blunt head of his cock slick through her
wetness.
Byrnes sucked hard at her throat, and Ingrid
threw her head back. Everything ached. A
bittersweet sensation that blew her mind. She felt
like she was going to explode.
Then he was pushing his way inside her, inch
by heated inch, working into the tight slickness of
her sheathe. "Please," she found herself saying.
"More."
The first full thrust took her by surprise.
Sweat gleamed on her skin, and her muscles
locked tight, as though she never wanted to let him
go.
"Oh," Ingrid gasped, her nails curling into his
upper arms, as the storm beneath her skin
threatened to tear her apart. "Oh, my God!"
She had forgotten the rumors: the chemicals in
a blue blood’s saliva could sometimes bring a
woman to orgasm. Another hard suck at her throat
brought her to the edge, hovering there, on the
precipice of the fall. Byrnes thrust again, and it
was enough to shatter her.
Ingrid gasped, bucking in pure bliss, her
sheath tightening around him and clamping down
hard as she came. It exploded through her as though
she'd been struck by lightning, until she was
nothing more than wild abandon, pure need.
"Ingrid." Byrnes thrust hard, lifting his face
from her throat as she dug her heel into the cheek
of his arse as if to urge him deeper. "Jesus. I can't
—"
And then he lost control himself, one hand
clamping the back of her neck, the other her hip, as
he pounded himself into her.
It was wild and furious, and she reveled in it.
until Byrnes caught her up with a growl and half
spilled her onto the bed.
"Mine," he growled, thrusting home and
filling her.
"Mine," she corrected, and he seemed to like
that even more, as he captured her mouth in one
final, fierce coupling of tongues.
She dug her nails into his spine, clenching all
of her inner muscles around him. Byrnes growled.
Their eyes met, and then he gasped as he came
inside her. One last final thrust and Byrnes's head
dropped, his forehead resting against hers. "Jesus,"
he breathed harshly. "You... You're amazing."
Ingrid collapsed against the sheets, gasping,
her entire mind a white blaze of sensation as they
shuddered together. Destroyed. Utterly destroyed.
She had the vague feeling that she was still
half wearing her drawers, and Byrnes’s leather
trousers were around his knees. They were a mess,
the both of them. Sweat-slicked and breathing hard.
Ingrid laughed as she met those startled eyes,
unable to stop touching him, each stroke so gentle
that he half collapsed on her again.
"When I was dreaming of this," he told her
with a groan, "I thought I'd last longer than a green
lad on his first tup."
A smoky laugh shivered through her as Byrnes
curled against her, his chest heaving as he sought to
regain himself. "Oh, Byrnes. Whoever tho
ught that
Mr. Control would lose himself entirely when it
came to the deed?"
Byrnes lifted his head, that evil glint back in
his eye. "Is that another challenge, Miller?"
Ingrid stroked her fingers down his chest in
lazy abandon. She felt like purring. "Think you're
up to it, Sir Leather-britches?"
This time the growl in his throat had nothing
to do with claiming her as he slid between her
parted thighs, his cock growing hard against her
leg. "Ingrid Miller, I think we need to prove just
who, precisely, has no control...."
His mouth slid down her skin, his lips
capturing one peaked nipple between them.
"Starting here, I think."
Ingrid shivered as he suckled hard. Her eyes
rolled back in her head in pleasure. "Challenge
accepted."
AS THE MOON slid across the sky, Byrnes simply
stroked his hand through the cascade of honey-
brown hair that smothered his chest.
It was surprising to realize how enjoyable
this moment was. Ingrid was heat and warmth in
his arms, soft curves pressed against him, and her
breath whispering over his bare chest. He knew
she was awake. Occasionally she shifted a little,
but there was joy and peace in the silence between
them. At least there was until she broke it.
"What did you mean, that you're afraid to
think of the future?" Ingrid murmured.
Byrnes's hand paused in her hair, his throat
growing tight as she threw them straight into the
conflict that he'd been putting off. Coward. "I was
speaking of the unknown."
"Of me?" Her voice dropped to a mere
whisper, and he heard doubt there.
God, no. Byrnes shifted until he lay on his hip
and shoulder beside her with her head nestled in
the crook of his arm. Bronze eyes looked up, met
his. "Not of you. You're the one thing I don't
doubt." He kissed her mouth, a gentle caress. Then
paused. "I never thought that there would be
someone for me. I never dreamed of what that
would be like, or the complications involved."
"Are you saying I'm a complication?" She
arched a brow and bit the skin covering his biceps,
and relief filled him. No doubt in her eyes. Not
anymore.
Byrnes rolled over her slowly, resting on his
forearms as he looked down at her. Time to plunge
right into the heart of this. "You want children."
Ingrid froze and glanced up from beneath dark
lashes. "And you don't?"
"I don't know what I want. I don't know... if I
would be a good father. It's as I said. I never