The Lord of Knives was the second card—a ghostly knight riding on a white horse, his black blade piercing the dark clouds that surrounded them, revealing the light. Jaci had selected that one for strength, clear vision, and frankly—a little extra ass-kickery.
She’d taken a similar ritual bath last night, but this was different. This was Gabriel, the vampire she’d longed for, the vampire who’d always protected her, whether he realized it or not.
And now he was here, naked, rock-hard from the moment she’d told him to strip, his muscled chest slick with water and heat. A thin trail of dark hair led down into the water—a path she desperately wanted to follow with her tongue. But that would make an even bigger mess of her makeup than her earlier tears, and she’d just finished reapplying everything.
“And I toldyou,” she finally said, forcing her gaze back to his, “it’s a protection ritual, and it’s important to me. Now dunk.”
Huffing out an exasperated breath, he slipped beneath the water, then popped back up, dark hair plastered to his head, a rose petal snagged in the stubble along his jaw.
He shoved the hair out of his eyes and resumed his glaring. “I hardly need protection. I’m an immortal vampire, for fuck’s sake. You, on the other hand—”
“Humor me.”
“If it’s a good time you’re after, witch, I can think of at least a dozen other things we can do in the bath.”
“I’m sure you can.”
He held out a hand, dripping water onto the floor. “Care to join me, little moonflower? You’ll have to remove your clothing first, though. Water’s no good for leather and silk, and neither are my teeth when I’m tearing my way through them.”
He grinned and showed a flash of fang, the sight making her heart stutter.
The idea of Gabriel shredding her clothes with his teeth…
“Pass,” she said firmly.
“You’re certain?” he teased. “The water is perfect. Very, very hot. And very, very… wet.”
“As bathwater tends to be.”
“Could be hotter, though. With the right…” He licked his lower lip, letting his gaze roam down her body. “…approach.”
The deep sultriness in his voice mingled with the hunger in his eyes and the steam from the bath, the whole combo making Jaci undeniably wet, weak in the knees, andmorethan ready to take him up on the offer. She could almost feel the slide of his strong, firm hands over her slippery flesh, the tangle of their legs beneath the surface, the press of his urgent mouth on her neck, on her nipple…
No, girl. Vlad the battery-powered Impaler is the only safe bet. We talked about this, remember?
Jaci closed her eyes, trying to calm the wild heartbeat she knew Gabriel could sense. As much as she’d love to give in to her obvious desire, her feelings for him—the real ones—were just too thorny. She had no idea whether he was merely interested in a good time—okay, fine, a monumentally, mind-blowinglyorgasmictime—or something deeper, and right now, she couldn’t risk either.
Everything between them was just too complicated, with way too much at stake.
Punnotintended.
Opening her eyes and focusing on a chipped tile just behind his shoulder, she said, “Here’s how this works, Prince. You’re either cooperating with me willingly, or I’m roasting your ass with hellfire and finishing the spell the hard way. Now dunk.”
“Are you always so obstinate?”
“Only when I’m right.”
“No. You’realwaysobstinate.”
“Exactly.” She flashed a grin, then dropped it, scowling at him instead. “Dunk, Prince. This time, stay under for thirty seconds, and visualize yourself being enveloped in a bubble of pure white light.”
“I hardly think—”
“Thirty seconds, white light, or we’ll have to start all over again.”
With a litany of whispered curses, he finally submerged himself again, and Jaci returned to the mirror to touch up her hair.
Thirty seconds later, he breeched the surface like a whale, splashing half the water and rose petals onto the floor. “How much bloody good will all this white-light, protection-ritual mojo actually do against a succubus that can control minds and appear and disappear at will?”
