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Her smile faded. "I - I think you must have pulled him up a little quicker than I anticipated." Poor Igor had a massive stake embedded in his groin.
"Please tell me you were aiming at his chest."
"Of course I was." She shrugged. "At least now he can't father any evil Malcontent babies."
"He never could. Vampires are infertile. All you've done is piss Igor off. He'll make a grab for you and - "
"Rip my head off, I know."
Carlos arched a brow at her, then retrieved the chair and released Igor from the pulley. "The best way to survive a vampire attack is to never let them get too close."
"'Cause they'll rip my head off," she muttered.
"Exactly." He hung Igor up against the far wall. "If you can throw a knife and hit him in the heart, you can avoid hand-to-hand combat. I'll show you how it's done."
She stepped back as Carlos selected a vicious looking knife off the billiard table. He took aim and threw. The knife spun through the air, and thwack! It pierced Igor right through his straw heart.
"That would turn him to dust." Carlos jogged up to the mannequin and ripped the knife out.
"Is stabbing them in the heart the only way to stop them? It seems so violent." She gave him a playful smile. "Have you tried economic sanctions?"
He snorted, then walked back toward her. "You can set them on fire, burn them with sunlight, or cut their heads off."
"Sounds like fun," she muttered.
He handed her the knife. "Your turn."
She gripped the handle and reared her hand back. It had to be like throwing a softball. Unfortunately, she'd never been good at that.
"Wait." He grabbed her wrist. "You're holding it too tight. Relax." He loosened her fingers.
Tingles spread from her fingers and up her arm. She drew in a sharp breath as her heart began to pound.
His eyes met hers briefly, then he let go and stepped back. "Throw. Throw it hard. Turn Igor into dust."
"Okay." She reared back, then threw the knife hard. It arched in the air, then plummeted to the floor with a clatter halfway to Igor. She winced. "I...missed."
Carlos was silent a moment. "Is that as hard as you can throw?"
"I don't really know. I stopped throwing things at people when I was two."
He retrieved another knife from the table. "Try again."
She gave it all she had, but the knife clattered onto the floor a few inches from the first.
"You don't have any upper body strength," he muttered. "Do you ever do push-ups?"
She gave him a flirtatious smile. "Of course. There's nothing sexier than a Wonder Bra."
His gaze dipped briefly to her br**sts and his jaw ticked. "Come on." He motioned for her to follow as he strode toward the fallen knives. He picked them up and handed her one.
"Try again." He stepped back.
She flung the knife. It spun nicely toward Igor but hit his chest with the handle and clanged to the floor.
"Not bad." He handed her the second knife. "Put more power into it."
"Agh!" She threw the knife with every bit of strength she could muster. It flew toward Igor, and thwack! "I did it!" She turned to Carlos, grinning.
The stunned look on his face made her glance back at Igor. She winced.
Carlos gave her a wary look. "I'm detecting a certain pattern here." He walked over to Igor and yanked the knife out of his groin.
"I really was aiming at his chest."
Carlos snorted, then picked the second knife off the floor. "I was going to do fencing next, but I can guess how that would end."
She frowned. "It's not a big deal. It's not like Igor needs his equipment."
"You would be fencing against me." Carlos walked toward her, his eyes gleaming. "And I definitely need my equipment."
Her heartbeat raced as he came closer and closer. He stopped just an inch away from her.
"Down on the floor," he whispered.
Chapter Twelve
He was playing with fire but couldn't resist. She looked so damned hot with her hair loose about her shoulders, her long bare legs, and her tight little T-shirt that moved with every breath she took. Her face was flushed with exertion. And something else - desire.
It hung heavy in the narrow space between them, seeking to pull them together like a magnet. He'd made the mistake once of kissing her. It had taken all his strength to step back and resist taking more.
And now she was slowly lowering herself to her knees in front of him. His groin tightened as she reached eye level with his white karate pants. Merda, why was he torturing himself? He wanted her. She wanted him. She'd practically begged him to kiss her last night. If the damned cameras hadn't been on, he might have succumbed.
From the minute he first laid eyes on Caitlyn, he'd been gripped with a desperate desire, and it was only getting worse with each day. Take her. On the floor. Now.
He clutched his hands into fists. It was wrong. He couldn't take pleasure from her when he had no intention of staying with her. His future had been decided long ago during the Summer of Death.
He gritted his teeth. "Give me twenty."
Her eyes widened. "Twenty?" She glanced warily at his pants. "You must have awfully good stamina."
Hot blood rushed to his groin, causing him to swell. He stepped back. "Twenty push-ups."
"Oh." She made a face. "There's no way I can do twenty of those."
"Then you need to do them every day until you can." He motioned with his hand. "Come on. Get started."
"Okay." She balanced herself on her hands and toes with her arms locked straight. She bent her elbows and descended toward the floor. Halfway there her arms shook and she collapsed onto the floor. "Okay, that's one."
"One-half," he muttered. "Try doing it on your knees."
She snorted. "I bet you say that to all the girls." With a groan, she lifted herself up.
"Your body should make a flat line. You're sticking your rump in the air." He leaned over and gave her rear end a light slap.
"Hey!" She glared at him over her shoulder. Before she turned away, a mischievous look gleamed in her eyes. She collapsed onto the floor. "That's two."
"One and a half. And you're supposed to control your descent."
She lifted herself up again, pushing back to stick her rump out even more. She glanced at him with an expectant look.
Naughty little minx. "You want to be spanked?"
Her mouth twitched. "Do you?"
He groaned. "You can finish on your own later."
"My life story," she muttered as she rose to a standing position.
He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her. Stop playing with fire. He needed to stick to business.
"I'd better check on the Vamps." He strode toward the basement dormitory where Phineas was sleeping. "I have to check on them every few hours to make sure they're okay."
"What could go wrong?" She followed him into the dark dormitory. "Aren't they dead during the day?"
"Yes." He flipped on the lights. "This is just a precaution."
"In case of what? Can they grow more dead?"
"In case someone manages to sneak into the house undetected to do them harm." He scanned the large room. It was mostly empty now, just a few twin-sized beds. "When I first started working here, there were a few Highlander guards, and they slept in coffins down here."
"You're kidding."
"No." He walked toward Phineas's bed. "Angus had the coffins removed. If anyone in law enforcement was to present us with a search warrant, the coffins would have been hard to explain."
"So would the dead bodies." She glanced curiously at Phineas. "He looks like he's sleeping."
The young Vamp had sprawled on the bed on his tummy with an arm dangling over the edge.
Caitlyn giggled as she drew closer. "Look at his boxer shorts. They're perfect for a Love Doctor."
Carlos frowned at the white satin shorts with red hearts. His frown deepened when he realized Caitlyn was openly studying the half-naked Vamp. He grabbed the sheet at the bottom of the bed and covered Phineas up.
Her mouth twitched. "Right. He might catch his death of cold. Does he have a girlfriend?"
Carlos's chest tightened painfully. "Why do you want to know?"
