"Hannah, please." He reached for her again, and she lay on the bed, arms at her sides.

"Go ahead," she said through clenched teeth, "you've paid for your fantasy like every other of Sir Edward's clients I've been unlucky enough to meet. You bought an Egyptian slave girl. Should I dye my hair to improve the image?"

Seraphim moved so suddenly she gasped in shock as he covered her body with his, her hands pinned on both sides of her head. Fear and arousal filled her soul, making her wet for him. G.o.d, how would she lie there like a corpse and pretend she didn't love his touch? She needn't have worried.

Seraphim's mouth hovered over hers, and he said, "I don't need to pay for s.e.x, Hannah."

He stood and left the room, the door slamming behind him.

"d.a.m.n," she whispered, using all her strength to punch the pillow beside her. She hated men. She hated vampires. Most of all she hated her life.

After lying in bed feeling sorry for herself for nearly an hour, Hannah got up and changed into a long white skirt and a matching peasant blouse with gold roses embroidered on the sleeves and neckline. The outfit wasn't as revealing as Sir Edward required, but it was one of the only articles she'd retained from her own wardrobe. He'd had the others made for her-and the pleasure of his clients.

Hannah refreshed her makeup and unwound her hair from its braid, brushing it until it gleamed.

Wandering down the back steps normally used by staff, she made her way to the bas.e.m.e.nt. At this time of night, most of the guests were enjoying themselves upstairs or in the casino. Few used the gyms so early in the night, and she hoped to wander, unbothered, for at least a short time. After the argument with Seraphim, she would probably be sent back to her regular duties. Not that she blamed him. After all, she was technically a paid wh.o.r.e-not something she'd ever pictured happening to her. Her family hadn't been wealthy, but comfortable. When her father died, he'd left his wife and daughters a home that was paid for and enough money to retain a pleasant lifestyle, not that it was necessary. Hannah and her younger sister, Maria-a ballet dancer- had opened a dance school together and had done better than either expected. She wondered how Maria was handling running the school by herself. Hannah had loved her job-both the teaching and performing aspects. She'd enjoyed her life. Now there were times when she wished Sir Edward had killed her on that night he'd followed her home after the show and flashed his razor fangs. At first she thought he was simply a maniac with a mouth altered by cosmetic dentistry. If only that had been the truth.

Knowing Seraphim, for even such a short time, had made her life enjoyable again. She'd been attracted to him on sight. When he'd kissed and touched her, she'd almost felt virginal again. Quite a feat, considering how she'd been living. He'd allowed her the dignity she'd been trying desperately to retain. Now she'd probably ruined it.

Still, she'd been unable to stop her jealousy at thinking he was looking at her as another woman instead of as herself. She wanted him to desire her , not someone he once loved.

As she pa.s.sed the gym, she saw it was empty and decided to wander in for a glance at the rear training room. That place fascinated her, particularly the few times she'd seen Immaculates striking metal pillars and scaling the walls with their claws. Vampire strength both terrified and fascinated her. The idea of becoming like them started appealing to her, but Sir Edward would never allow it. Why would he supply her with the weapons to fight him and the blackmailing goons he had watching her family? If she was like them, she would gladly give her life just to rip Sir Edward to shreds-and she had no doubt she could. One didn't need to be immortal to realize he wasn't the most physically strong of vampires. He rarely trained to sharpen his skills, and he disliked violence against himself. That's why he had so many hybrid and Immaculate bodyguards. He so lacked courage he even sickened her-a mortal. The difference between Sir Edward and Seraphim was almost laughable. She tingled just thinking about Seraphim's strength. He'd never caused her a bit of discomfort, yet she felt the power in his slim body. It radiated from him like several other Immaculates-and a few hybrids-she'd met. Now he'd probably never want her again, but that was better than the illusion she'd created for herself. She'd actually begun to believe he'd help her and her family gain freedom from Sir Edward. She'd had daydreams of a permanent relationship with him. Vampires married-like Vikenti and the Baroness. What would a few decades with one woman be to a man who had centuries?

"You're an idiot, Hannah," she murmured to herself as she neared the entrance to the rear training room.

A weak-kneed, excited feeling struck her upon seeing Seraphim at the top of the tall, narrow wall in the center of the room. His booted feet braced the wall while his claws held him in position, just below the top rim. The moisture-beaded muscles of his shoulders and arms were exposed in the black tank top clinging to his perspiring body. Hannah grew wet just imagining that sleek, hot body pinning her to the bed, or the floor, or the wall...

She knew he must realize she stood there-vampires' sense of smell made wolves seem olfaction-challenged and they had unbelievable hearing. No wonder so many of them chose to communicate telepathically. Keeping a private verbal conversation wasn't simple in a room-at times even a house-full of vampires.

He climbed over the top of the wall and descended on the opposite side. Hannah felt a bit upset that he'd ignored her, but hadn't been surprised about it. She turned to leave, but before she reached the door felt the heat of his hand on her shoulder.

Hannah turned, her heart pounding, and stared up into his eyes.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "How angry are you right now?"

His question took her aback. "I'm not angry."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Well...I was upstairs, but I'm not anymore. Considering my position here, I shouldn't have complained. Everybody's got fantasies. I know I do, so why not you?"

"Who do you fantasize about?" Though his smile broadened, it appeared less friendly. If Hannah didn't know better, she might have thought he was jealous.

"Do you mean in general?" Her heart thudded. This conversation was beginning to excite her-not because she was imagining fantasies, but because it reminded her of banter that might occur between real lovers. d.a.m.n! Why couldn't she stop thinking of Seraphim as a companion and start realizing he was another f anged John?

"I mean when you're with me." His hand dropped to take hers, and he used his free one to cup her chin, forcing her gaze to remain on his.

Hannah swallowed. There was no way she could tell him that when she was with him, it was a fantasy come true. How could she admit since meeting him, no other man existed? She felt his thoughts prodding hers.

"Stop it," she snapped. "That is so inconsiderate." "I know, but I'm seething with curiosity."

"Don't do that." She couldn't keep the pleased smile from her face and she felt herself blushing.

"Do what?"

"Look at me like that. If you looked at her the same way, I can't understand why she married Vikenti."

Sadness touched his eyes. "She didn't have a choice." "I'm sorry I said that."

"It's all right. I initially asked how angry you were because I wanted to talk to you about her."

Hannah nodded, stepping away. This time he let her go, though she felt him close behind her. The last thing she wanted to hear about was the woman he really loved, but she cared about him. If he needed to discuss it...

"I'm listening." She turned back to him.

"Hey!" Vikenti called in greeting as he and the Baroness stepped into the gym, dressed in matching black shorts and tank tops. Hannah nearly smiled, almost expecting to see "his" and "hers" written across their chests. Though they seemed much like the other guests, she liked them better.

The Baroness winked at Hannah before she leapt onto the wall, scaling it as quickly as most of the male Immaculates Hannah had seen. The Baroness was an impressive woman, as powerful as she was beautiful. If Hannah was a vampire, she'd want to be like the Baroness. Only a fool would threaten a woman like that. They'd probably end up castrated and spitting fangs. Vikenti seemed to like his wife that way. Hannah could tell by the expression in his eyes as he stared at her voluptuous body clinging to the top of the wall.

"Coming, lover?" the Baroness called to Vikenti.

"Talk to you later." Vikenti offered them a mock salute as he joined his wife.

"They're a cute couple," Hannah whispered as she and Seraphim left the hall.

"Maybe her, but him..." His teeth clenched and he growled.

"What exactly happened with you, him, and that woman?"

"He married her to spite me, and she was murdered while we were fighting about it."

Though his words were spoken harshly, she realized the depths of his sadness. "I'm sorry." She squeezed his hand. "How long has it been since she died?" "Two thousand years."

Hannah's jaw gaped before she regained herself enough to close it. "Seraphim, you can't keep feeling guilty about it, and you can't keep blaming Vikenti. Emotions like that will destroy you."

"They have destroyed me."

They'd reached his room and stepped inside. She slipped her arms around his neck. "They haven't destroyed you. I'm sure neither you nor Vikenti intended for her to die. Neither of you had any way of knowing she'd be killed."

"If he had left her alone and not forced her to marry him -"

"What if I hadn't met with Sir Edward after he saw me dance? Our entire lives can be filled with what ifs! Two thousand years is..."

"Not as long as you might think. You're only what? Twenty four or five?" "Thirty, but thanks for the compliment."

"Thirty. An embryo." He walked to the window and pulled the drapes open, staring out at the miles of midnight desert.

"You're not robbing the cradle, darling, you're robbing the womb." She smiled and slipped her arm through his, hoping some humor would relieve his depression. The look he flashed her was anything be humorous, and she said, "I'm only joking. G.o.d, you're a lot more complicated than I thought. How do I help a man who's thousands of years old?"

"I don't need your help."

"Thanks." Her voice dripped sarcasm and she walked to the bed.

"What I mean is, it doesn't matter how I feel about it. It happened. It's the past. Now matters, and I don't want you to feel I'm comparing you to anyone else. You're a beautiful, caring woman, Hannah, and you're unique."

"You don't have to say that." She smiled softly and rested her head on his shoulder as he sat beside her.

"I know I don't. I loved Nenet, part of me always will. But you're irreplaceable to me."

Hannah drew a deep breath and released it. "Why is this happening so fast? Feelings like this should take time, not happen overnight."

"Call me a hopeless old romantic, but I believe in things like love at first sight."

"Seraphim!" she scolded, though she felt herself blushing again. She was being a complete fool for this man, and she didn't even want to help herself.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Hannah melted against him. Her arms slid around him, the dampness of his shirt sinking into her thin cotton top. Her fingers gripped his muscular back and shoulders as their tongues explored each other's mouths.

When the kiss broke, Hannah sat back, feeling slightly breathless. Seraphim's eyes shone with vampiric l.u.s.t. His fingertips traced the shape of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through her shirt. He hooked a finger in the waistband of her skirt and underpants and tugged her closer for another kiss.

"I need a shower," he whispered against her lips. "Want to come?"

"Over and over again," she grinned.

He stood, sweeping her into his arms and kissed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "I think I can arrange that, Hannah."

"I love how you say my name." He smiled. "Hannah."

"I wonder if I can find a way to make you scream it?" She stared into his eyes, threading her fingers through his hair. "Can a mortal make a vampire scream, or do you need another of your kind?"

"You have my enthusiastic permission to find out."

In the bathroom, Seraphim placed Hannah on the countertop and stepped between her legs, kissing her. Her arms slipped around his neck, and she closed her eyes, weaving her fingers through the damp hair at his nape. She moved her mouth to his neck, kissing and licking until she felt a tremor run through him. Steely arms enfolded her in a heated embrace and she smiled. Vampires paid so much attention to throats it was no wonder theirs were an erogenous zone. Her tongue traced the arteries and tendons while her fingers caressed his nape.

"Hannah," he murmured "You like this?" she whispered.

"You have no idea how good it feels."

"It would feel even better if I could bite you, wouldn't it?"

He tugged away, his eyes fixed on hers. "Is that what you want? To be one of us?"

"I've been thinking about it."

"It's dangerous. Many don't survive the change."

"You said that doctor friend of yours could give us a compatibility test."

"Think seriously about what you're asking, Hannah. Your entire life will change -"

"What life? If it hadn't been for you, I'd still be Sir Edward's slave. I'd at least like the weapons to fight him back."

"It's a good enough reason, but is vengeance the only reason you want to be a vampire?"

She held his eyes. "It's a big part of it, but there are others."

"Tell me?"

"I can't. Not now."

He nodded. "I promise you, Hannah, I'll see you and your family are released."

"You know I actually believe you."

A soft smile touched his lips before he kissed her again. This time when the kiss ended, they undressed and stepped into the shower. He adjusted the water so it was almost too hot for either of them to comfortably tolerate until their bodies adjusted. Steam filled the entire bathroom as they washed, stealing glances at one another.

Hannah watched as he took his c.o.c.k in one hand and rolled back the foreskin with the other. He reached for the soap, but Hannah took it from his hand. "Let me?"

He nodded, his eyes fixed on her hands as they lathered the soap which she placed aside. Taking his c.o.c.k in both hands, she washed it gently, watching as it grew bigger and harder beneath her touch. She felt aroused knowing the mere act of washing him excited him so much. After rinsing away the soap, she sank to her knees, her hands gripping his hair-roughened thighs as her lips ran over his c.o.c.k head. She took as much as would fit into her mouth and suckled. Carefully, she began nipping it. He uttered a guttural sound of desire, so she took it as a cue to continue with her teeth as well as her tongue. Squeezing his b.a.l.l.s, she laved his c.o.c.k head with the flat of her tongue, then used the tip to caress the eye.

When she moved up his body, her palms resting against his chest, she felt his heart pounding and nearly smiled. Pinning her against the water slicked tile, he kissed her neck. His teeth grazed her throat, and her belly clenched with antic.i.p.ation. The way his bite felt was indescribable.

He didn't bite her, though, but reached beside her shoulder and turned off the water. Seraphim grasped the towel hanging over the door and wrapped her in it. He picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom while she kissed him, her teeth nibbling his lips while her fingertips traced patterns over his neck. Halfway to the bed, a l.u.s.ty growl escaped his throat and he dropped to his knees, placing her on the thick black carpet. The towel spread beneath her, she lay under him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he thrust into her, filling her so completely she couldn't restrain her cry of pleasure.

"Oh!" she gasped as he spiraled into her then almost withdrew completely before repeating the motion until she thought she might die of desire. "Seraphim, oh, please don't stop!"

It was a silly request, even spoken in the midst of pa.s.sion. She well knew he could go on all night-especially with a mortal. At times she wondered exactly what it would take to tire an Immaculate. Any thoughts beside pleasure were forgotten as he drove her to the most perfect o.r.g.a.s.m she'd ever experienced. He continued stroking into her while one hand played with her c.l.i.t, dragging out the climax longer than ever before. No sooner had that one ended when another began, pulling her higher until she exploded again. He stopped moving, and her body clamped around his steely c.o.c.k. When she'd recovered, he tugged her to her feet and gently pushed her on the bed, hard enough for her to land flat on her back, but not nearly enough to hurt her.

Hannah watched him through half closed eye as he spread her legs and ma.s.saged her inner thighs.

"You're going to kill me," she teased, "but what a way to die."

Eyes fluttering shut, she allowed him to guide her legs around his neck. He began lapping her c.l.i.t, stimulating the sensitive nub until she quaked and writhed in ecstasy. Suddenly he thrust his huge c.o.c.k into her still throbbing body, hips pumping in a smooth, steady motion. The next climax was slower in coming but no less thrilling. As she reeled, she felt his teeth slip into her neck. Her legs tightened reflexively around his waist, and she shrieked in pleasure. His movements quickened and the muscles of his shoulders and back tensed beneath her clutching fingers as his own climax took him. She felt blood on her neck and his come in her p.u.s.s.y, and both thrilled her.

"Hannah, beautiful Hannah," he murmured against her throat, kissing the warm column.

I think I love him. I really think I love him.

He rolled onto his back and held her with one sinewy arm as she rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat return to its incredibly slow pace.

She told herself she was being a fool, but to her surprise she no longer cared. All she wanted was to be with Seraphim for the rest of her life, either as a mortal, or hopefully, as a hybrid.

Chapter Eight.