NightPrey Page 3

When she did not answer his knock, Alessandro stood outside the door to his room for several moments, debating whether or not to enter. Ear pressed to the door, he heard nothing. The beauty on the other side had to be asleep. Silently, he cracked open the door and slipped inside. He needed to see for himself that she was all right, though Joseph relayed her condition of health to him earlier.

  The subtle sweet scent of the vesper flower lingered in the air, causing a slight smile to tug at his lips. His favorite—the night flower, the vesper. Since finding this out, Ilene made him soap containing its oils, thus the soap retained its scent. Knowing Rose used a cake of his private stock to wash made him wish he’d shared the scented suds with her, that his hands soaped and cleansed her body instead of hers.

  Alessandro stopped in his tracks. Where had that come from? He did not know her, and yet he hungered for her touch and to caress her in return. He only knew of the beauty of her face. The beauty of her body he imagined to be exotic, frail and alluring. That was the vision his overactive need conjured. With a shake of his head, he tried to flush the image of her naked beneath him from his mind. That would never happen. Men like him deserved no woman like her.

  He paused, reminding himself the main reason he entered the room. See to her safety, her health condition and leave. Nothing more. Nothing less. He tried desperately to convince himself, though the hardness in his trousers hinted otherwise. Alessandro vowed to ignore his cock and stepped closer to the bed.

  Odd, no one lay within the covers. His brow bunched. Quietly he moved to the privacy curtain. If she had fallen asleep in the tub… He held his breath. A decent man would leave and send a maid in to check on her.

  His eyebrow arched. No one ever called the Black Knight decent.

  Though he knew he should not, Alessandro lifted the edge of the curtain with the tip of one finger. Duty mandated that he keep her safe, he reasoned. Asleep in a tub full of water on the verge of drowning did not equal a safe scenario in his book. At least, that was what he told himself to relieve a smidgeon of the guilt brewing in his conscience.

  Anticipation tightened his chest. Though he knew to peek at a woman unaware didn’t fit the gentleman’s agenda, he couldn’t stop. Inwardly, he claimed his actions were purely for her safety. Inch by inch, he lifted the privacy curtain. At first he saw the rim of the tub closest to him, and then a little more, until the entire tub came into view. He hated to admit disappointment captured his soul at the sight of an empty tub. No naked Rose soaked within.

  He straightened, dropping the curtain. Where was she? Had she left the castle?

  Alessandro spun and froze as he caught sight of a form curled up on the rug in front of the low-burning fire. Why had she chosen the floor instead of the bed? Her decision baffled him until the words of her father echoed in his head. He thought himself unworthy of such luxury and asked to be moved to the stable. Did she feel the same? Unworthy? As he got closer, her position reminded him of a cat curled into a ball for a nap. Her legs were bent and tucked tight to her chest as she lay on her side facing the fire. Both hands nestled under her cheek.

  Washed and combed, he saw her hair’s true color. Honey gold lay cascading down the length of her body to her hips. Absently, his fingers twitched to test its softness. He wagered his purse it outmatched the finest silk.

  The cotton sleeping gown she wore hid nothing from his already overactive senses. In her curled position the fabric fit snug to her bottom and detailed the elegant length of her thigh. Sprawled like a cloak over her shoulder, her hair hid her face from his view. Kneeling behind her, he reached across her shoulder and gently smoothed the hair from her cheek. It amazed him how soundly she slept until he noticed an empty cup on the floor beside her. He lifted it and immediately knew from the minute scent mixed in the tea leaves that Ilene had given her something to ease her stress so she could rest.

  She looked like an angel sleeping at his hearth. Swallowing hard, he leaned forward and drew in a hearty dose of her scent. Though masked by the sweet scent of vesper, it contained a heady, wild earthiness. A mysterious scent hovered in the strange mix of her essence, a scent that teased him and aroused his inner beast. For some strange reason, he felt he recognized the delicious odor, but it eluded him.

  A whisper of a noise caught his ear. Concentrating on the sound, it confused him. Was she purring? Lowering closer to her face, he realized a soft mewing melody escaped on each exhale. Did all women snore this way? Baffled, he decided he would ask his sister when she returned. For in his limited experiences with the weaker sex, he remembered no such noise.

  In his opinion, Rose deserved a soft, fresh bed. Unwilling to wake her, Alessandro gathered her as gently as possible and stood. He didn’t release the breath he held until he tucked her in under the blankets and she had not wakened. He figured she slept so soundly due to Ilene’s concoction. It took a great effort to turn from the temptation in his bed and return to the fire. As he stoked and banked it for the night, thoughts of curling up next to her added to his already painfully erect condition. Each glance across his shoulder whet his appetite more. A vision of beauty and innocence lay in his bed driving his inner beast crazy with lust.

  Without thinking, he stood beside the bed, staring down at her. The strange mewing sound made him smile and touched something primal deep inside of him. It tugged at his soul and begged him to take her, mark her as his and his alone. He wanted nothing more than to stretch her with his cock, take command of her body and pleasure her until he filled her with his seed, tasted her essence and claimed her as the black panther’s woman.

  Alessandro ran a shaky hand through his hair. Desire seized his system, yet he battled it for control. No one deserved to be shackled to him for life. Not now. Not ever. With his fists balled tightly at his sides, he forced himself to turn and not touch her. The erotic sight snuggled in his covers etched itself in his memories forever. Rose was a prize he could not touch. On weakened legs, he strode to the door and prayed he did not wake her.

  The moment he touched the door he stalled, unable to open it. A rush of something raw and unfamiliar roared through his system, causing him to tremble. What was wrong with him? Never had he experienced such at the mere thought of a woman. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent wrapped within a woman’s warmth. Since their arrival at Pantera Manor, he’d not taken a lover. Come to think of it, he sighed, it’d been longer than that since even a feminine hand held his cock.

  He sighed heavily. Had the thrill of battle demolished his need for primal release? Alessandro paused, letting the vision of Rose wash over him. The strain of his cock against his trousers let him know the hunger for companionship lived within his veins. If only he were more like the deadly being the legends spoken of him made him out to be. He bit back a low growl. According to them, he was a terrifying beast who took what he wanted and to hell with the consequences. On a heavy snort he shook his head. He battled a man until death, but he never took from a woman what was not willingly offered.

  And Rose…she was not in any condition to offer herself to him. He turned and leaned against the door, staring at the sleeping wonder in his bed.

  No woman gave of herself to him. Not once they knew his past. The Black Knight of Death, the right hand of the Devil. The name and the legend followed him, no matter how far he traveled. In all his years he never let a woman know of his second nature, his inner beast the panther. If they ever saw him in that form, he knew he would become nothing but a deadly monster and not a man as far as they were concerned.

  Alessandro closed his eyes. If he listened hard enough, he heard her breathe. The melodic music of her mewing snore encapsulated his soul. On every intake of air, her phenomenal scent filled his senses, increasing his hunger for her. If he didn’t leave right now, he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t take advantage of her alluring attributes and live up to the dreadful legends.

  A sudden gust of wind whipped the wooden shutters open on the window. Quick and soundless, h
e raced to the window and sealed them closed. But not before a putrid scent slapped his senses.

  Danger stood the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Something lingered out there. Not near, but just close enough for him to retrieve a hint of its scent upon the wind. His gaze narrowed. What did it want? He couldn’t be sure, but his gut instinct suspected it was Rose.

  In no way could he leave her alone. Not while knowing something sinister hovered on the outskirts of his lands. What did it want with Rose? Or maybe it searched for her father, but he doubted it. Every instinct hummed that whatever was out there, definitely wanted Rose.

  Alessandro slipped behind the privacy curtain hanging around the tub. As he removed his clothing, he mentally contacted Kade.

  “Kade, you awake?”

  “I am now,” his cousin’s groggy voice grumbled in his head.

  “Trouble is in the air. I sense it. I need you to watch over Smythe.”

  “Any idea what?” Alessandro could not help but smile at the lust for battle laced in Kade’s words.

  “No. It is a feeling I have. Something is wrong. Not sure what, but we need to be taking caution. Watch over the man.”

  “Consider it done. And where shall you be should I need you?”

  “In my room.”

  “Figures.” Kade’s laughter filled Alessandro’s head. “I get the ole bugger and you get the fine specimen of feminine flesh.”

  Alessandro didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he shifted. On four paws, his movements were even more silent than as man. Without any effort, he eased onto the foot of the bed. In this form he’d protect her better, he reasoned. Settling at her feet, he posted himself as her night sentry.

  Turmoil flowed through his veins. As panther, his animal instincts flared to life. Already hard and filled with lust-driven need before he changed, his desire for her shifted into a raging fire within his being. Nature’s first instinct—survival. Its second—to mate.

  He wanted nothing more than to mate with her at that moment.

  Every breath he took demanded control he prayed for the ability to exert. Her scent coated his heightened sense of smell and made him constantly lick his lips in an attempt to gather a taste of her essence. Rich feminine hues tainted with a secret ingredient tormented him.

  It took an extreme measure of resolve to resist her heady flavor. But he managed. Stretching out, he lowered his head onto his front paws. Way into the early morning hours, he battled his growing lust for the intoxicating woman in his bed. When he finally did sleep, vivid visions of her naked beneath him tortured his dreams. Her body spread before him as he feasted upon her bounty until his tongue had its fill of her flavor.

  If she knew his true nature, would she allow him such splendor? In his dreams, she did. Yet in the light of day, he knew she’d be the lady and he’d remain the beast.

  * * * * *

  Rose stretched, yawned and snuggled deep into the pillow. Pillow? Both eyes opened wide. She fisted the blanket tautly to her chest. Where was she? Where was Poppa? Without moving, she darted her gaze from side to side taking in all the limited position allowed. Dying embers in the fireplace gave the room a dim glow. A thin thread of light filtered in through a slender crack in the shutters. From the lack of noise, she assumed it to be early morning.

  Several cleansing breaths eased the fear that held her frozen in place. Events of the night resurfaced. She remembered they were to stay at the inn in Dartmouth, but they never made it. Luck left them. A broken axle caused an extended delay in their progress and Poppa fixed it. The sudden arrival of a storm added to the disastrous trip. If it hadn’t been for the axle and the driving rain, she felt certain they would have escaped the outlaws. They suspected from the moment they started this trip that they were followed. But they thought they would make it.

  Images of the attack seemed blurred within her brain as she tried to sort them. When her fingers brushed a tender spot on her head, the blow that confused her senses last night resurfaced. Flashes of a man skittered through her head. He dragged her from her hiding place and didn’t care that he hit her head on a rock. Stars had danced behind her eyelids and she battled not to black out. If not for the men that saved them… Rose shuddered at the thought and refused to worry over the matter of what might have happened.

  Gratitude flourished within her chest.

  One minute she and Poppa were being attacked and the next they were spared. No matter how hard she tried, only bits and pieces of the events filtered to the top. She couldn’t decipher the blurred images. She shrugged. If asked she couldn’t say what happened to their attackers. She’d been too preoccupied with staying awake and reaching her father. The clearest image from the night resurfaced.

  The memory of him filled her mind. A strong, chiseled face with dark, brooding eyes sparked her imagination. Those eyes held a world of mysteries within their depths. Just the thought of unraveling one of those secrets sent a tingle down her spine. Why had he and the other man saved them? And more important, where were their clothes? A heated flush crept up her neck and fanned across her cheeks. The image of his rain-soaked naked form took precedence over all thought. Though a proper lady shouldn’t think of such, she couldn’t stop his image from flooding her brain.

  Broad shoulders, strong arms with thick biceps and a taut, muscled chest spattered with dark curls captured her gaze. Though she tried not to look, her eyes refused to obey. As if they had a will of their own, they trailed down his firm abdomen, inspecting every muscled inch. At the juncture of his thighs, the sight of his well-proportioned male being captured her interest and held it prisoner. Remembering it now made her palms itch to touch it and unusual moisture pooled between her thighs. Heat rose from her core, spreading a flush across her skin.

  Having never experienced such, she decided the evils of lust had taken control of her senses. Rose closed her eyes and tried desperately to cool her overheated system. But the vision of his naked form refused to leave.

  Oh God. She swallowed hard. Was she headed to hell for lusting after a man?

  The only male she had ever seen up close was her best friend Camille’s baby boy, when she changed his diaper. The truth be known, she’d never seen a grown man’s anatomy bared for all to see. She chewed her lower lip. Thinking back, he showed no shame. He walked right up to her without even a flinch in his step. Did he have no modesty? Did all men act like that?

  No, she shook her head. Poppa never walked about naked.

  There had been two who saved them. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the other man’s form, only his face. Handsome. That was all she thought of him. Yet the one who held her in his arms, that one she remembered every detail of his being right down to the size of his… Rose shivered. Proper young ladies did not think of such things, she desperately reprimanded herself.

  Ordinary young ladies followed strict rules of society. But she wasn’t ordinary. Rose squirmed in the bed as unusual warmth enveloped her. What would the man who saved her think if he knew the truth? She doubted he would have helped them. A secret lived within her. Something only she and her father shared. Even her best friend, Camille, didn’t know for if she did, Rose feared she’d have no friend.

  Rose shook the thought from her system and allowed herself one moment of joy. Never had she slept in such a bed as fine, or as comfortable, as this one. Being the daughter of a blacksmith, they lived in a small cottage beside the livery, where her father worked.

  Poppa!

  The sudden need to find him made her sit up. It was then she noticed the rather large pile of fur at the foot of the bed. Staring at it, she couldn’t determine whether it was a blanket, or if it were something else—even with her unusually keen eyesight. She blinked and tried to refocus, but it still looked like it could be a blanket made of fur. With one exception. She thought she saw it move as if it breathed. Were her eyes playing tricks? They had to be, because normally her vision was accurate. Instead of kicking it to see if it moved, she eased from the
covers on her hands and knees. Inch by inch she moved closer until her vision cleared.

  She gasped. A panther.

  Lightning quick, the large black cat sprang upright facing her. Every muscle ceased to work, not allowing her the gift of movement. She sat frozen, staring into the deep dark eyes of the feline on the foot of the bed.

  Where had such a majestic creature come from?

  Rose swallowed her fear and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves. A scent of something primal filled her senses. Raw desire flooded her veins and she knew she had to touch him. Though her fingers trembled, she extended her arm in slow motion. Would the wild animal snap or bite her in her efforts?

  She needed to know. Something in those huge black eyes seemed familiar. But how? Not to her knowledge could she remember ever seeing such a proud animal. It sat rigid, staring directly at her as if it were waiting for its moment to pounce. Though she knew a sane woman would run screaming from the room, something inside of her demanded she stay.

  As gentle as a babe, she stroked the side of his neck. Instead of a fierce growl or the aggressive move she anticipated, it merely purred at her contact and nuzzled its face into her hand. When its rough tongue licked her palm, heated chills skittered up her arm and shot down her spine and abdomen to pool in the moist juncture of her thighs.

  She shivered, trying to tamp down the sudden heat that scorched her insides and had her aching for more than she understood.

  This was wrong and he knew it. He should not have fallen asleep. God knew his dreams of her in various sinful positions tormented his mind and kept sleep in a restless state for most of his night. Lingering in her presence even after he sensed she was awake had been his downfall. Bed-tousled hair cascaded around her shoulders. Her rested gaze held remnants of sleep and added an even more sensual beauty to the unusual color of her eyes.

  Alessandro should have left the moment she sat up, but he couldn’t. Need barreled through his system, increasing with each inhale of the scent of her rich feminine arousal. And she was aroused. He smelled it thick in the air around him. The flicker of her irises hinted of fear, but only for a moment.