Dark Challenge (Dark Series - book 5) Read online

  He could hear her heart beating wildly. He bent his head to hers, his mouth curving into a genuine smile. “Come to me. Promise you will meet me at the small tavern three blocks from here.”

  There was a loud popping sound from the other side of the door, and someone—it sounded like Barack—swore aloud. They could both hear Darius reprimand him softly, “I told you not to touch the door. Have some respect.” His voice was low and hypnotic. “Desari?” He didn’t raise his voice but rather dropped it to a whisper. “Open the door for us.”

  “Go out the window,” Desari insisted, pushing at the wall of Julian’s chest. It was a mistake to touch him; he instantly responded by covering her hand with his, trapping her palm against his heavy muscles.

  “I came through the door,

  cara,

  and I intend to leave the same way. Do you meet me later, or shall we stay together here?”

  She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her palm. Steady. Solid. Not in the least affected by the fact that he was hunted by three powerful predators just a door’s width away. His thumb was feathering back and forth across the back of her hand, feeding the flames already leaping in her body. Desperately Desari attempted to shake him off. He was a rock, unmoving. “What am I going to do with you?” she demanded.

  “Say you will meet me. Do not allow your brother to rule your life.” He could smell the leopards now, knew they had joined the three men and were pacing restlessly in the hall.

  Desari knew it, too. “All right. I promise,” she capitulated. “Just go before something terrible happens.”

  He bent his head and brushed her soft, trembling mouth with his. It was the lightest of kisses, but a gentle lingering, yet she felt it touch her heart, her soul. He smiled at her, his golden eyes burning with molten heat. With need. “So,

  piccola,

  open the door.”

  Desari’s fingers curled in his cotton T-shirt. “No, you do not understand. You cannot go out there.”

  “Remember your promise to me, Desari. Come to me.” Julian bent his head one last time to her because he had to. She smelled fresh and clean, a breath of air from the highest mountains he loved so. Her skin was softer than rose petals. His body was making harsh urgent, relentless demands. Julian controlled them, but he needed to touch her, to feel her response, to feel the burning flames in her matching the firestorm in him. For he was on fire.

  His mouth found hers. Hot. Demanding. Dominating. His hand went to the nape of her neck, holding her perfectly still so he could explore her sweetness. He was lost instantly, feeding on her, his posture aggressive. His arms swept her into the shelter of his body, so close it was impossible to tell where one started and the other left off.

  A rumbling growl from outside the door had Desari struggling, pushing at him, her eyes wide with fear for him. “He will kill you. Please, please go while you can.”

  She looked so beautiful, for a moment he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Slowly a smile took the edge of hunger from his mouth. “Come to me,

  cara.

  I will keep you to your promise.” His hand slid slowly, reluctantly from the nape of her neck, and he stepped away.

  “Desari.” It was Darius’s soft, compelling voice. “He has safeguarded the door against us. Only you are safe from its harm. You must open the door for us. Once you touch it, you will break his spell, and we will be allowed entry. Do as I bid.”

  Desari watched as Julian’s solid form shimmered, then dissolved into nothing. She looked around quickly. He had to be something. Somewhere. Her frantic gaze searched her dressing room. There was no mist. Nothing. She walked to the door, her hand hovering over the knob. Where could he have gone? He had not left by way of the window. It was still closed tightly, the blinds drawn.

  Very slowly she opened the door. Her brother’s shoulders filled the door frame. His features were dark and merciless, his black eyes icy cold. “Where is he?”

  Barack and Dayan were solidly behind him, cutting off any escape route, and what was worse, the two leopards prowled behind them, back and forth, a low warning fumbling in their throats.

  Desari’s chin lifted. “I want him left alone. He saved my life.”

  “This man is more dangerous than you think,” Darius informed her softly. “You do not know anything about him.” He walked into her dressing room, his probing eyes searching restlessly, missing nothing. “He is here, in your room. I can feel his presence, his power.” Darius abruptly caught Desari’s arm and pulled her close to him, inhaling sharply. “Did he take your blood?” He gave her a little shake.

  Desari shook her head as she struggled, trying to jerk away. Darius unexpectedly released her, cursed softly, and put his hand to his mouth. His palm was singed. The black eyes continued scanning the room.

  Barack and Dayan crowded in, gaping at the damage done to Darius. “He is here. I feel him,” Dayan echoed, a bite to his voice.

  How could you do such a thing? You hurt Darius,

  Desari accused Julian, near tears. She had never been so emotional in all the centuries of her existence. It was like being on a roller coaster. Disloyalty and guilt were now pushing in hard and fast.

  He is already healing his palm. He should know better than to grab you like that. It is unacceptable to me.

  Julian’s voice was lazy and confident. He sounded complacent, as if he found it all amusing while she was afraid.

  I should tell him where you are,

  Desari snapped, exasperated at his tone, his arrogance. Men were so irritating sometimes.

  You do not know where I am. But if you wish it, by all means, tell your brother what you think. I give you my permission.

  Desari’s teeth clenched, but a hiss of complete annoyance escaped. It was a good thing he had dissolved; otherwise, she would be tempted to strangle him with her bare hands.

  Darius flicked his cold gaze over her. “He speaks to you. What does he say?”

  “Enough to make me want to slap him,” Desari snapped. “Come, let us leave this place.”

  Barack yelped triumphantly. “He is the dust in the room. Look at the way it falls in an unnatural pattern around the floor and along the windowsill.” Secretly he was proud of himself for spotting it before Darius or Dayan. “Perhaps we should do some cleaning up in here.” He had his own burned palm from touching the door.

  Desari paled visibly. “No. I told you, I want him left alone.”

  Barack deliberately stepped on a pile of dust particles and, ground them into the floor. “He cannot walk in here and think to have you. He has beguiled you in some way, Desari. It is our duty to protect you from one such as this.”

  Darius dropped an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Do not fear for this one, Dara. He is far too cunning to be caught in the dust on the floor. It is too obvious a ploy. He set it there to deceive us. Come, let us go. He is even smaller than what you see on the floor. Probably only tiny molecules in the air, and impossible, at this moment, to destroy.” He looked around the room and up toward the ceiling. “I have used just such a method to escape detection myself on a few occasions. We will leave this place. I trust you have said your good-byes.”

  Desari went with her brother, confident he would not lie to her. Dayan and Barack, just to make sure, swept up the dust and ran it under water until it dissolved down the drain. Satisfied they had rid themselves of the “creature,” the two of them left to hunt for sustenance, leaving Darius to deal with his wayward sister.

  Chapter Four

  Desari slipped out of the bus dressed in soft, faded blue jeans. Her shirt was ribbed cotton, V-necked, and form fitting. Deliberately she had not fed this night and kept hunger uppermost in her mind, knowing Darius might scan her. He had gone off to feed and might occasionally check on her.

  His lecture had been long and severe. Desari was feeling especially defiant and a little bit desperate. She had promised Julian she would meet him, and she knew if she didn’t show up, he would come f
or her.

  This is very dangerous.

  She searched for him, sending out her exasperated distress.

  Darius and the others will be watching me.

  There was a moment of silence, just long enough that she thought perhaps she hadn’t connected on the correct path with him. Completely unperturbed, totally arrogant, Julian responded.

  If you prefer, Desari, I will be more than happy to meet with them and discuss this rationally. You belong with me. They cannot interfere. And just who are those other two clowns? Do not try to convince me that they are also your brothers. I do not think I know you well enough to tell you my family’s business,

  she replied haughtily.

  Do not deliberately provoke me,

  cara mia.

  I will admit to being a jealous man. Our males have never been famous for allowing their women to associate with other men. I do not belong to you. I belong to myself.

  Desari sighed as she made her way from the motor home down the street toward the tavern where she had promised Julian she would meet him. She shook her head. This was so ridiculous. Darius could track her at will. Men were beyond her understanding, even after centuries of trying to figure them out. Not one of them made any real sense.

  Darius does not have the right to rule your life any longer,

  piccola.

  That is the right of your lifemate, not your brother.

  Desari stopped dead in her tracks. He sounded so complacent, so insolent. Conceited. Overbearing. Arrogant. What was she doing?

  His laughter echoed softly in her head and brushed little flames over her skin.

  You want to come to me. You know you have to come to me. Nothing can stop you. It is inevitable, like the tide. There can be no turning back.

  Her feet were moving of their own volition, pulled inexorably toward the bar. She moved several yards, reaching the corner before she realized she was under compulsion. His voice was low and beautifully pitched, a blend of the night and seduction itself. He was using his voice alone as his weapon, and she, like a rank fledgling, was responding. Desari forced herself to stop moving by grabbing a lamppost and hanging on.

  His laughter was low and taunting.

  Desire is more powerful than I realized. And it is the same for you. You wish it were,

  she responded, her chin up, eyes flashing.

  I refuse to play these childish games with you. Go away, and do not come back.

  He was right, though. She had never felt this way before. Every cell in her body was hot and heavy and aching for release. She wanted him. Pure and simple. But that was all. It was just sex. Hot, steamy sex. Absolutely nothing else. Who would want such an arrogant jerk?

  “You.” The single word was breathed against her neck, against the pulse beating so strongly there. His body was suddenly so close, she could feel the heat emanating from his skin. Although she was tall, his large frame seemed to tower over her. Up close, she could feel his power, the intensity of his emotions. His gaze drifted over her with stark possessiveness.

  Desari stood perfectly still, afraid to move. There was something about him she couldn’t seem to resist. It was his eyes. The way his eyes burned a molten gold. So intense. So hungry. How could she resist his eyes? It was in his mind. He had been so alone. He

  needed

  and only she could provide. His hand moved down her shoulder to rest on her slender waist. His touch was possessive. His palm was burning a hole through the thin material of her shirt.

  Julian exerted a little pressure, taking her with him as he moved toward the tavern. She was still uncertain, her brain at war with her instincts, her emotions, the chemistry of her body. He was well aware, having now shared her mind, that Desari was no one to trifle with. She had lived centuries, had acquired tremendous knowledge and strength. This was a situation that required more than a little finesse—not his strongest point. Julian was used to having his way in all things. More than anything he believed it was his duty, his right, to protect and care for his lifemate. But Desari did not seem to follow the path of the women of his race in temperament.

  “I heard your brother refer to you as Dara. How did you come by such a name?” he asked, his straightforward curiosity completely throwing her off the track.

  “I have long been called Dara. It is a nickname. Darius said my mother often called me that,” she answered, moving with him automatically. His body was very close to hers, so that she felt the brush of his thigh, his chest, the heavy muscles coming into brief contact with her, then moving away. Her tongue touched her lips, moistening their sudden dryness. She was intrigued by the way Julian could make her feel so aware of herself as a woman.

  “Do you know what Dara means?” Julian asked softly.

  Desari shrugged. “It is old Persian. It means, of the dark one.”

  Julian nodded. “Do you remember where you came from? Where you were born?”

  Desari moved away from him, a subtle retreat from the heat of his body. What she really needed to do was run from the heat in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her as he was doing. Julian slid his arm around her waist and gathered her under his shoulder.

  She put her hand on his rib cage to push him away, but somehow her palm lingered against his thin shirt, savoring the heat of him. It drew her like a magnet, in the same way his eyes drew her. She lowered her lashes. This was insanity. But for a few brief hours tonight she would indulge her dreams, allow herself a fantasy that might have to last her for all time.

  Julian’s larger frame urged her into the small tavern. The band was playing something soft and dreamy, al lowing him to step around and take her into his arms. The moment he enclosed her against him, he knew it was right. Her body fit into his perfectly. They moved with the same rhythm, matching heartbeats, matching gliding, swaying steps. Her head fit in the niche of his shoulder; her hand belonged in his.

  “We should not be doing this,” Desari said. In spite of her determination not to allow him to control her, she couldn’t stop herself from moving in the erotic dance. His thighs were hard columns against her softer ones. He smelled woodsy, mysterious, dangerous. She inhaled, taking in the scent of his blood.

  His mouth touched her neck, just a feather-light caress, but the jolt sent shock waves through both of them. Hunger flared in her, hot and erotic, like nothing she had ever known. She felt the warmth of his breath fanning over the pulse throbbing so frantically beneath her skin.

  “This is exactly what we should be doing. I have no other choice,

  cara.

  I need to hold you in my arms.” His lips were velvet soft, his tongue a rasp of heat stroking her pulse. His fingers enveloped hers, curling her wrist so that he could hold her hand tightly against his heart. “Do you have any idea of how beautiful you really are, Desari?” His teeth scraped a gentle rhythm back and forth over her pulse, sending flames dancing through her body.

  Desari closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sheer physical pleasure of the moment. His skin was hot and rough against the softness of hers. She could feel his strength, his muscles like steel. They moved together in such perfect rhythm. She wanted it to go on for all time. His arms made her feel protected and cherished. The burning hunger in his eyes made her feel desirable. His words made her feel beautiful. But most of all, the way his body moved, hot and hard and aggressive as he held her to him, turned her own body into a living, breathing flame.

  “It is the way you are inside, Desari, not just the outside package, that makes you so beautiful.” His tongue tasted her throat, his lips sliding up to her chin, to the corner of her mouth.

  “You cannot possibly know what I am like,” she protested, even as she turned her mouth blindly to his. She had to taste him, had to know if this was real, this black magic spell he was weaving so effortlessly around her.

  Desari expected a savage ravishment, his hunger ran so deep and strong. The first touch of his lips was incredibly tender, his mouth moving over hers, memorizing the feel
and shape of her, as if he were being swept away, as if he loved the taste of her. It disarmed her as nothing else could. Her legs went rubbery, but he simply gathered her tightly against him, protectively, as if sheltering her with his heart. His hand encircled her throat lovingly, his fingertips moving in a tender caress that sent heat pooling low and a wave of weakness flowing through her body. She made a sound, a low moan of alarm. He was stealing her soul, taking her heart with his gentleness. Desari found his thick mane of golden hair with her fists, clung to him for support. He was ensnaring her for all time, and she was giving herself to him without a fight.

  He was a dangerous, violent predator, yet he held her protectively, kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. It was as if he needed the taste and feel of her just to breathe. How could she not fall under his spell? His voice was low and seductive, a murmur of Italian that took possession of her heart, stole it right out of her body. The world was dissolving into a strange mist around her, the earth shifting beneath her feet. Their bodies were swaying to the music, the shadows hiding them from prying eyes. Desari had the strange feeling he was making love to her. Not sex, but making love to the one woman in the world who mattered to him. Everything in her rose in response to the gentleness of his possession.

  His kiss deepened so that he was feeding on the sweetness of her mouth, his hand spanning her throat, his body trapping hers against a wall, holding her still while he ignited the fire in her blood and turned her body into a living flame.

  “Come with me away from here,” he whispered, his beautiful voice raw with need, a sorcerer’s seduction.

  Desari rested her head on his shoulder, confused and vulnerable. She wanted him, wanted to be with him. The need was so strong, it was almost a compulsion. She couldn’t understand it. Nothing in all her long centuries had prepared her for the force of his magnetism. “I do not even know you.”

  Julian’s fingers stroked her silky hair, a small, masculine smile softening the hard edge to his mouth. “You insist on believing that, Desari, but you have been in my mind as I have been in yours. I know you are beautiful from the inside out because I hear it in your voice, see it so clearly in your heart and mind. You are a little troublemaker, but you would never hurt a single soul. You are the light to my darkness, my lifemate.”