Love Bites Part 18

"I suppose you're eager to leave now," she said, although the words seemed to stick in her

throat-behind the lump that threatened to choke her.

"Leave?"

"With the investigation over, I thought you'd be itching to get back to Seattle."

"It rather depends," he said quietly.

She knew her heart was in her eyes, but she couldn't help the hope she knew was reflected in her

expression. Her emotions were too raw to conceal. "What does it depend on?" "On you." She swallowed. "You don't want to turn me, do you?" "Not now." "Because it's dangerous?" "Because it wouldn't be right." Shaking her head to clear her confusion, she said, "I don't understand." "Love, you're going to have a baby." His expression was stark, his jaw tight. "What?" Of all the reasons, that would have been last on her list. Pregnant? How-"Oh." Joe. Oh G.o.d.

"Everyone knows?"

"Yes, love."

"But the hospital-"

"Captain Springer told them I was your fiance. I asked them to let me tell you."

"My mother?"

He nodded.

"But I've spoken to her on the phone every day." My own mother kept a secret like that?

"She thinks the child is mine. She'd have been on the first plane here if she hadn't caught the flu."

She inhaled a ragged breath. "Joe?"

"He hasn't called in. And I thought you'd want to be the one to tell him." Quentin reached to pull away the pillow she clutched between nerveless fingers, and then closed his large hands around hers, warming them. "You don't have to make any decisions now. You have a lot to think about. And there are some things I want to tell you."

Her eyes pooled with tears, but she nodded. Are you going to tell me it's over? That you can't love a woman with a child? Because I won't give it up.

"I never told you how it was I came to be...what I am." He squeezed her hands, and his gaze held hers. "I was a spoiled, reckless young man. I left England in search of adventure because I suffered from boredom. I'd never experienced a grand pa.s.sion for anything." He lifted his shoulders and shrugged sheepishly. "Except s.e.x, that is."

A little smile curved her mouth. This she could well imagine. He was describing the Quentin she'd first met.

"I never loved anything or anyone. I was a younger son, so my family was only too glad when I headed to the Caribbean." He smiled crookedly. "My behavior was causing a bit of a scandal, you see.

"Anyway, in the Caymans I met a dark, honey-skinned woman. Her appet.i.te matched mine and she taught me things-wicked, s.e.xy things that bound me to her. I craved what she meted out. Even believed I was falling in love with her."

Darcy knew where this was headed. "She was a vampire."

"Yes. We spent weeks in her cottage next to the beach, and I never once questioned her aversion to the sunlight or odd cravings for raw flesh. Her brand of s.e.xual sorcery enslaved me for a time. I pleased her, and she gave me the one 'reward' that was in her power to give."

"Eternal life," Darcy whispered.

"Yes. Only once I'd changed, I recognized her dark seduction and she ceased to hold power over me. And I was d.a.m.ned to walk the Earth at night-forever seeking relief from my never-ending boredom."

Tears finally slipped down her face. "And now?"

"I tried to tie you to me in the exact same way that witch did to me. With my own brand of dark seduction."

"Because you were bored and you could?" She had to know what was really in his heart, however much it hurt.

"Because I love you, and I don't ever want to let you go."

Darcy closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. When she opened them, his worried expression prompted her to ask, "What do you fear?"

"That one day you'll wake up and discover I've bound you with desire."

"Would that be so bad?"

"It is, if there isn't true love in your heart, as well," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Darcy pulled her hands from under his and reached to cradle his face between her palms, her heart bursting. "I love you, Quentin. For however long I live, I will always love you."

Quentin's eyes squeezed shut. "And I will love you for all my life."

Darcy's heart raced and her hands smoothed over his broad shoulders. "Love me, Quentin."

"I do," he breathed.

"No, love me."

His eyes popped open. "I see. Your shoulder?"

"Aches like the devil, but I have a deeper ache somewhere else."

"I think I have just the cure," he purred.

"Hurry."

Quentin stood, swept her into his arms, and walked briskly to their bedroom. There he laid her on her pink-flowered sheets and swiftly, gently, removed her clothing, and then tore his own from his body.

Darcy grinned. "A little anxious, are we?"

"We have suffered an entire week of purgatory, madam."

"Poor baby. Is that why you slept on your side of the bed?"

He stalked toward the bed, his expression intent, his gaze locked on her open, welcoming c.u.n.t. "I was afraid I'd hurt you if I so much as touched your soft skin. I've been going mad."

"Come to me," she said, opening her arms.

He stretched his body over hers, braced on his arms, careful not to jostle her shoulder. "I don't know if

I can be gentle," he whispered.

"f.u.c.k me, Quentin," Darcy moaned.

"Oh love, invite me into your solace." He nudged her portal with the smooth, broad head of his c.o.c.k.

Darcy's body glazed the tip with her creamy invitation.

He entered her with a single, endless glide, and then held himself still.

Darcy closed her arms and legs around him and held him tight. "No one will ever fill my body or my

heart like you do." She circled her hips on his c.o.c.k, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g them both to distraction.

"Christ, you're not making this any easier for me." He moved then, flexing his hips to drive into her,surging, pushing her up the bed with each hard stroke. All her love poured from her body, bathing his c.o.c.k with welcome. Quentin groaned and leaned down to take her lips in a searing kiss, eating her mouth. "I won't ever let you go. You're mine." His hips moved faster, his thrusts grew sharper. His face tightened, but didn't transform.

Even in the throes of pa.s.sion, he protected her.

"Please, please. Harder. Oh come deeper!" Darcy clawed his back, pumping her hips against his, seeking the sweet release his body promised.

Quentin reared back on his haunches, hooked his arms beneath her knees and drove deep, pounding relentlessly into her, lifting her hips from the bed with his powerful thrusts.

"Yes!" she cried out, and writhed beneath him, her channel convulsing around his shaft.

Quentin shouted and his hot, liquid release poured into her.

As the last spasms of her o.r.g.a.s.m milked him, Darcy reached for him again. "Hold me."

He covered her, once again holding his weight above her on his elbows. He rested his forehead on hers, while he gasped for breath.

Darcy soothed him with her hands, caressing his moist, sweaty back. "Will it always be like this for us?"

"Always. I promise."

"Even when I grow older?"

He lifted his head and searched her gaze. "I'll love you when you're old and wrinkled and frail. And I'll

always think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever held."

Darcy sighed and settled her hands in the small of his back. "I have a child to rear. School and PTA meetings. I'll need to be with him during the day until he's old enough not to need me."

"Do you think my love is so shallow, I won't wait?"

"I'll grow older, my body will change." She wrinkled her nose, trying to inject a little levity into the most important conversation they would ever have. "My b.o.o.bs will droop. People will wonder what a handsome thing like you is doing with a soccer mom."

Quentin's hand caressed her breast tenderly. "These little gems will remain perky into your dotage,

madam."

Her heart twisted. She had to tell him. "I may choose never to turn. What if I want to grow old and be a grandmother?"

Quentin's eyes misted. "I'll hold you every night and love you gently until the day you die, and then I'll

watch over our child and her children. I won't ever stop loving you." Tears streaked down the side of her face and she sobbed, clutching at his shoulders. When the stormpa.s.sed, she sniffed and gave little laugh. "Look at us, blubbering like babies."

He smiled tenderly and smoothed the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips.

"You know, I have the oddest craving for Cookies N' Cream."

Quentin closed his eyes, a look of intense euphoria on his face. "Yes, with liver chasers."

Darcy's face stretched into a grin. "Was that what you were hiding in the kitchen? Sympathy cravings?"

His frown didn't dim her mirth. "It's not funny. I'm afraid what other indignities the next nine months will

hold."