CHAPTER EIGHT

Meredith looked cocky. That was the only word for it. Stefan watched her strut around the deck in her bathing suit—even a one-piece showed off her curvaceous and beautiful body to perfection. She was laughing with Mario about something. He lounged in a chaise, his skin exposed to the heat, sunglasses protecting his eyes. He looked smug too.

Stefan rose from the bed where he’d been resting since the night before and strolled to the window to watch them. Mario had insisted on staying, not trusting Armand to keep his word to stay away while Stefan lay sleeping.

Armand would not descend upon them, and Stefan knew it. Armand wanted Stefan out of the way, to tip the balance of power in this town to his side, but he’d play by the rules. It was unusual for two masters to exist side by side, but they’d managed it—Armand and Stefan, cold and warm—keeping the balance in a town that could so easily erupt into chaos. Armand had taken responsibility for his vampire’s betrayal and had not held Stefan to his promise to leave. Armand’s sense of honor far outweighed his desire for power and revenge.

“I’m doing it for Meredith,” Armand had said in his ice-cool voice. “Not you.”

Stefan had nodded, understanding. They’d have a truce if not complete trust.

As Stefan watched, Meredith dove into the pool, swam a few laps, then stepped out, slicking her water-dark hair back with one hand. Stefan had not lost one bit of yearning for her. If anything, their connection through her tasting his blood had made it worse.

Her choice. It must be her choice.

The bestial part of Stefan wanted to throw Mario out, toss Meredith on the ground, and have at her. Would she laugh and twine her arms around his neck? Or scream in terror and try to flee?

Right now she looked healthy and vibrant and yes, cocky. He didn’t want to take that away from her.

He touched the control to slide open the glass door, and strolled out onto the deck. Mario glanced up, his expression cautious, but Meredith ran to Stefan and enfolded him in a wet hug.

“Stefan! It is so good to see you. Are you better?”

“I am now.”

He kissed her smiling mouth, remembering what it had felt like to have her drink him—erotic and exciting. The hardest thing he’d ever done was to tell her to go yesterday, and he wasn’t certain he could do it again.

She drew back a little, her eyes cool green in the strong sunlight. “I’m better too. What happened to Spike?”

“Who?”

“Armand’s vampire who looked like Spike. The one who attacked me.”

Her words faltered, and he felt the fear in her. Stefan touched her forehead, absorbing the fear and returning calm.

“Armand killed him,” he said. “Armand can sense what his vampires do, and he knew you were being attacked. We found you just in time.”

The vampire had nearly finished her off. Armand’s power over his vampires was so great that he’d made the rogue vamp burst into flames with a thought. Meredith had lain against her car, bleeding profusely from gashes all over her body, her throat half torn out, barely alive.

Now, except for a few pink lines where the deeper cuts had been, she looked healthy and whole. And cocky.

“I’m glad you did,” she whispered. She rose on tiptoe and kissed him again, stirring hungers that he’d kept buried inside him while she rested. He put his hand under her wet hair and lifted her to him. He could kiss her forever.

He heard Mario noisily get to his feet. “Looks like I should leave you two alone.”

His grin was knowing. Mario was convinced that now Meredith would stay and give herself to Stefan, and everything would be all right. Stefan knew that Meredith bathed in the afterglow from feeding from two vampire masters, which meant she might come to her senses and run any minute.

Mario gave Meredith a wave and sauntered out. He was as cocky as she was.

“So what were you two talking about?” Stefan asked as he led Meredith to the chaise Mario vacated. He lifted the terry robe that lay in a snowy heap and pulled it around Meredith’s wet body.

“You.” She grinned. “Mario was telling me stories about you.”

“Hmm. Why don’t I want to know about that?”

“Oh, it was all good. He told me how you rescued him way back in the early fifteenth century and how powerful you are. I think he wants me to be impressed with you.”

Stefan stroked her sleek hair. Water droplets beaded on her lashes. “And are you?”

“Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” He felt a little offended. “Only somewhat?”

“Well, you are pretty arrogant. I am a vampire master, everyone must obey. And as soon as you put your touch on me, I wanted to fall at your feet and kiss your toes. You have to be proud of yourself to expect a woman to do that.”

“I don’t think I specified you had to kiss my toes.” He pursed his lips. “But if you want to…”

“And this yes, Master thing has to go.”

He felt a grin breaking through his despair. She stood with her hands on her hips, a glint in her eyes that said if she became his blood slave, it would be on her terms and nothing else.

“You can call me Stefan,” he said.

“In fact, the whole slave part of it has to go to. I want my own career and to come and go as I please. I don’t want to ask your permission every time I want to leave your side.”

“Fine.” The grin was growing. “In fact, if you wanted to open a gallery here for your mother’s paintings, I can do it. Big spenders come to Vegas.”

She stopped. “You’d do that?”

“Why not?”

She pressed an excited kiss to his lips. “You’re a sweetheart. Now, let’s see, where was I? Oh yes—the wardrobe. Diaphanous white gowns aren’t really me, and neither are leather bustiers. Something sexy but tasteful, I think—I’ll have to go shopping and see what I can find. And shoes. Manolos, definitely. A whole closetful—no, I think I’ll need a whole room. You know how women are about shoes.”

The wicked twinkle in her eyes made him burst out laughing. He hadn’t laughed, not like this, in centuries. “What are you saying, Meredith?”

She slid her arms around his neck. “That I want to stay with you. As a blood slave, girlfriend, wife, whatever you have in mind. And I will make you bite my neck, if that’s what it takes to bring you to full strength—”

Stefan stopped her words with a kiss. “Be sure, Meredith,” he said in a low voice. “Please. Be sure.”

A smile blossomed on her lips. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said please like you really mean it.”

He did really mean it. He pressed his forehead to hers, his hard fingers framing her face. “I do mean it, Meredith. Please.”

“Well,” she said, her breath coming faster. “If you put it that way…”

Ten minutes later, Meredith found herself stark naked on Stefan’s bed with his incredible body on top of hers. Her bathing suit lay in a wet puddle on the floor where Stefan had swiftly peeled it from her, probably ruining the priceless carpet.

Stefan didn’t look like he cared. He’d stripped off his clothes and now lay spread on her, one hand stroking her hair.

“Look into my eyes,” he said.

Meredith suppressed a laugh and readily stared into tawny eyes that could melt her heart. His irises began to glow, golden light that flared as bright as the Las Vegas sun. His power hit her full force, sending her dropping into a dark abyss, down, down, down.

But the abyss held no fear because she knew Stefan would catch her. She was safe in his arms and always would be.

“Are you ready?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Meredith arched her body against his, wrapping her arms snugly around him. “Yes, yes, yes.”

With a strong hand, he parted her thighs and slid inside her, stiff and definitely ready for her. She lifted her hips, loving the way he opened and filled her, as though her body had been waiting for him all her life.

He closed his eyes, his mouth twisting as the erotic excitement filled them both. He nuzzled her, kissing her lips, then drew his tongue from the corner of her mouth to the pulse point at her throat.

“Please,” she babbled, wildness washing over her. “Please, please, please.”

“I thought you liked me to say that,” he murmured.

“Stefan,” she gasped. “Shut up and bite me.”

He laughed, his chest rumbling against her. He licked her neck, tongue hot and wet, and then she felt a brief, sharp pain. His mouth closed over her flesh, and he suckled.

Meredith screamed. She bucked up into him, feeling his cock inside her and his mouth buried in her neck. Her climax hit her full force, excitement jolting through her. She swore that the apartment disappeared and they were floating in the blackness of space, surrounded by stars, or maybe she had half passed out from her wild climax. She was never sure, but she knew she’d never had an orgasm like this before.

Whatever she screamed and babbled, she didn’t know, but her throat was raw with it. Her muscles ached from slamming herself into him, but she couldn’t stop. Stefan fed on her and made love to her without mercy, and she hung on and loved every second of it.

He lifted his head. His eyes were bright like stars, his power flaring even as her frenzy wound down. He growled low in his throat, a sound of triumph—and then the sex they had after that blew everything away.

“I love you, Stefan,” Meredith said. Or maybe she screamed it loud enough for the entire hotel to hear, she couldn’t tell. “Love you.”

Stefan didn’t answer, being too busy giving her mindless, pounding, brutal, wonderful sex.

When they were gasping and shaking and trying to catch their breaths—and on the floor for some reason, with Meredith’s bathing suit ice-cold on her shoulder—Stefan smoothed her hair, his eyes gentle now.

“I love you,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Does this mean you’re restored to full power?” Meredith asked.

She sat on the chaise lounge by the pool, enjoying the heat of the night. The sun had long since set and Stefan’s well-paid staff had laid out a supper for them on the deck. Above the laser light shows, stars showed thick in the desert sky.

Stefan and Meredith had devoured the supper, hungry after their long afternoon of sex, probably not appreciating the fine flavors Stefan’s personal chef had chosen for them. They’d been too hungry to notice.

“Yes,” Stefan said.

He looked so smug, sipping his wine while he lounged in his bathing suit on a chair, smiling like a man who’d finally gotten what he wanted. His eyes still glowed with the warm golden light they’d taken on in the bedroom.

He hadn’t resumed the sunglasses all afternoon, and now he bathed his world in his own light. When he blinked, it was like watching a shutter on a lighthouse. She wondered if he would always be like that or just when he had good sex. She wouldn’t mind experimenting to find out.

“How can you be sure?” Meredith asked. “That you’re at full power, I mean?”

He smiled, a man in full control. “I am sure. How do you feel?”

“Me?” She took stock. “Great. Wonderful. Better than ever, in fact. Fabulous, fantastic. Want any more adjectives?”

“That is how I feel. As strong as I’ve ever been.” His expression softened. “You not only saved my life, but restored my powers. Maybe gave me even more.”

She dangled her wineglass from her fingers. “Enough to kick Armand’s ass?”

“Easily.” He took a sip of wine. “But I’ll leave him alone. The power in this town needs to be balanced, and we do a good job of it. Besides, he helped save your life, so I have a mushy feeling about him here.” He pressed his fist to his heart.

“That’s true, he could have let me die. He didn’t stand to gain anything by saving me.”

“He likes you.”

Meredith blinked. She thought of the tall, cold vampire with black leather clothes and long white hair, the vampire not afraid of God and his symbols. She imagined what he must have been like as a knight, his strong body encased in mail, his surcoat with its cross, the huge sword in his upraised hand. He’d probably scared the crap out of his enemies.

“He likes me?” she asked. “Hmm, how does that make me feel?”

“He admires courage, and you have it in abundance.”

Meredith sipped her wine, remembering how she’d twice tried to threaten Armand and how he’d regarded her as though he were a tiger being screamed at by a mouse. “Some would call it foolhardiness.”

“You stood up to him to protect me,” he said. “You amazed him. And me.”

“You made me your blood slave. I thought it was my job to protect you.”

Stefan laughed. He set aside his wineglass and got to his feet, the look in his glowing eyes making her shiver in anticipation. His body was beautiful, tall and hard with muscle, his golden hair scraped back from a sculpted face, and those eyes…

“A vampire cannot compel a blood slave to protect him. He protects the blood slave.”

“Really?” She stood up as well. “So when I wanted to charge after you to Armand’s to rescue you, that was just me wanting to do it?”

“Mario’s panic might have had something to do with it.”

“Mario’s a good friend.”

“He is.” Stefan slid his hands to her hips and drew her against his warm body. “I do not wish to talk about Mario right now, or Armand.”

Meredith kissed his warm chest. “Fine by me. We can talk about them later. Maybe invite Mario out to dinner. Or breakfast.”

“I want to show you that I’ve returned to full strength, and then some. You seem to need convincing.”

Meredith smiled, excitement racing down her spine. “I don’t know, you seemed very convincing in the bedroom. We should be more careful, though, about breaking things. Your poor staff has to clean up after you.”

Stefan laughed. She loved the sound of his laugh, low and rumbling and warm. He wrapped his arms around her and did a slow spin with her, a dance step that they’d done at the club when he’d wined and dined her.

After a moment Meredith realized they were twirling together above the deck, rising into the balmy desert night. The stars spread out above them, and below them the glittering lights of the city created starlight of their own.

She knew that if she let go of him, she’d fall, but also that he held her safely and would never let her fall.

“Where do you want to go, love?” he asked, breath warm on her skin.

“Anywhere you go.” Meredith snuggled her head on his shoulder, feeling protected and loved and deliriously happy, and incidentally enjoying the view. “Master.”

Stefan’s smile grew feral, the glow in his eyes threatening to light up the sky. He kissed her hard on the mouth.

“As Mario would say,” he intoned, stroking her hair, “you got it, babe.”