"Probably not," she answered with a lift of her eyebrow. "I'm diving. You can't wear too much when you're diving."
He nearly groaned, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. He handed her the usual diving breakfast, her beloved peanut butter and banana sandwich and a cup of coffee. "You'll need to down two of those."
"I'm driving," she said. "No time."
"The boat," he countered.
"You don't drive a boat," she sneered. "I was referring to my truck."
"Oh no, laskovaya moya, I've been reading the laws of this wonderful state, and I believe that truck is now half mine. I'm driving our truck."
Her eyes darkened. Little sparkles heated the cool depths. "Really? I don't think you have a prayer because I've got the keys." Laughing, she dangled them in front of him and, scooping up gear, ran for the truck.
Lev followed at a more leisurely pace, locking the house, double-checking that they had everything, especially water. The moment they finished packing the truck and she turned toward the driver's side, he stepped into her path, trapping her slender body with his much larger one, his arms caging her there on the tailgate. "I have one thing you don't," he murmured against her neck, turning his head and nipping her earlobe.
"What?"
His tongue teased her ear. "Brute strength," he whispered and removed the keys from her hand even as he captured her mouth with his. He didn't let her up until she kissed him back thoroughly, until her arms slid around his neck and she melted into him.
He drove the truck with great satisfaction, smirking at her. "Manly man, here, woman."
She snorted indelicately. "Until you board that boat. Then you're a lowly tender."
"I do believe I have a license to dive with you."
"You have a license, which I don't believe for one minute is real," she said, "and you can go dive on Mike's boat."
He glanced over at her, taking in the tight coral tank lovingly cupping her breasts, and shook his head. "I like the perks on your boat."
She laughed and ate her second peanut butter sandwich. As they turned onto the eucalyptus-lined drive leading to the harbor, she thrust her head out the window and shouted, "Today's a dive day. Woo-hoo!" It was impossible to contain her happiness.
He didn't think he'd ever seen her look more beautiful as they cast off and she took her position at the helm, guiding them along the river, sweeping under the bridge, through the harbor and out to sea. She was amazing. The sun kissed her dark hair, the wind put color into her cheeks, and her joy made her eyes bright. He knew he would never want to be anywhere else. She took his breath away, and his love for her was so overwhelming that for a few moments he could only stare at her.
Lev watched her, knowing he would never forget the way she looked there at the helm, hair blowing in the wind, utter confidence on her face. She lifted her face to the sky and laughed, the sound carried away by the wind. Her tank top plastered against her small, firm breasts so that her nipples peaked beneath the thin material, beckoning him. In the wind her long skirt blew around her ankles, swirling, sometimes revealing her bare, shapely legs and then dropping the colorful veil over the enticing sight.
He wanted her. There in the early morning sunlight, with the gulls flying overhead and the water beneath them. How could he not? She was his world. Without a doubt, when she was the captain of her boat, she was at her sexiest. His body reacted of its own volition. He didn't will the blood to flood into his cock, despite his training and experience in sexual arts; this was natural, a reaction to loving his woman. He found joy in that simple pleasure--his body reacting without command.
He stepped up behind her, close, knowing--certain--that she would welcome him. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and laughed again. The sound was an aphrodisiac, bursting through his veins like champagne bubbles. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body back against him. His cock was as hard as a rock, thick and long and pulsing with energy. He knew she could feel his need by the way she pushed back tight against him.
One of her arms came back up and around to circle his head, bringing it down to hers as she turned her face enough to kiss him. "I've been giving it some thought," she whispered against his mouth.
"What thought?" One hand found its way under her tank top to caress the underside of her breast.
"That there might be a few perks to having you diving with me after all."
His fingers found her nipple, tugged and rolled, then went back to massaging her supple breast. He felt her stomach muscles bunch beneath his palm where he held her tightly to him. He bit the junction of her neck and shoulder.
"I'm certain I can provide as many perks as you'd like," he murmured, licking from her pulse to the lobe of her ear. "Both above and below water."
She rolled her bottom against him, a clear enticement. "When I was putting your diving suit into the truck, I found that little opening right at the crotch very intriguing and fraught with all sorts of amazing possibilities under water." She turned her head more until their eyes met. "I can hold my breath a really long time."
His cock reacted with a hard jerk. The pressure from such a heavy erection was nearly painful with his jeans on. With one hand he unbuttoned the front of his jeans to get some relief. The cool air hit the scorching heat of his shaft, and he pressed closer to her, using the warmth of her body, burrowing into the delicious separation of her buttocks. He trailed his fingers over her hip and down her leg to her thigh. Very slowly he began to bunch the material in his fist, pulling it up inch by inch.
"I have to admit, laskovaya moya, I've noticed you have excellent skills under water."
The wind tugged at the skirt and he continued to inch up the hem so that her bare leg and then the left side of her firm round buttocks and hip came into view, revealing all those shimmering raindrops scattered along her bare skin, the ones he loved to taste.
"Superior underwater skills," she corrected. "Skills I'm quite willing to improve on. I don't mind practicing. In fact, I enjoy practicing."
He knew she was telling the truth. Each time her lips closed over his cock, it was her idea, and there was something so amazing in her eyes that at times he wondered whether that was half of the pleasure, the way she loved him, the way she enjoyed pleasuring him. She gave him back every bit as much as he gave her.
His hand caressed bare skin. He shaped her bottom, rubbed and massaged. "How good are you at driving this boat?" His voice was pitched low to challenge her.
"expert." There was no hesitation.
"Really?" He bunched her hair in his hand and pulled her head back to take her mouth. Dark hunger spread like the sun across the water. Deliberately he took his time, exploring her sweetness, taking what he wanted, kissing her deeply over and over.
The boat continued over the water toward their destination without so much as a waver. When he released her mouth, she caught his lip with her teeth and nipped. Her tongue licked along the marks. "You'll have to do better than that," she whispered, a husky invitation.
His hands bunched on either side of the long skirt, slowing bringing the material up so he could caress her bare skin. He didn't mind meeting challenges, but there was something amazing about skimming over the water in the early morning with the sun pouring down on them, and the feel of soft, warm skin against his palms. He believed he might be the luckiest man in the world.
He savored the moment, resting his chin on her shoulder, holding his body tight against hers as he massaged her legs and buttocks, feeling the vibration of the engine and the rise and fall of the waves beneath them. He took his time, sliding his hand between her legs to push against her inner thighs, insisting she widen her stance. She took the direction, her hips moving back against him.
He leaned into her. "You're not supposed to move. You only get to stand there." Deliberately he bit her neck again, found her soft skin too warm and enticing to do anything but linger so he added his mark, all the while he cupped her mound in the palm of his hand
.
He felt her breath hitch in her lungs. Damp, welcoming heat met his palm. He took his time, using a slow, gentle hand, fingers circling and rubbing, slipping into her to test those tight silken muscles and tease her sensitive bud, only to slide away when her hips bucked against his hand. He didn't know who had more control--Rikki or him.
Her soft little whimper, Lev, went straight to his heart. He went to his knees, staying behind her, leaning in to take a nip at the delicious indentation in her hip, right where the raindrops started, those shimmering, enticing drops he loved to follow up--or down--her leg. He started at the bottom and found each one, swirling his tongue along that familiar path. He followed the intriguing little drops up her thigh to her hip.
"I think you need to add to this tattoo." He murmured as he kissed his way to the front of her thigh. "You need a drop here." He nipped her inner thigh. "And here." He nipped again, higher, near the blazing heat. "And here." His tongue plunged deep and one of her hands fisted in his hair. It was long enough, shaggy enough for her to get a good grip, but he sent her flying anyway.
She cried out, a soft sound the birds diving for fish answered as they plunged deep into the sea. Please.
I intent to always please you.
He stood behind her, her skirt billowing in the wind, one arm circled her waist, locking her to him, and he entered her, welding them together with her scorching heat. The vibrations of the engine ran up his legs to their joined bodies. The boat flew over the water, her hand steady on the hehn. They were joined together, one skin, hearts pounding the rhythm of the sea and nothing-nothing could have been better.
He was exactly where he wanted to be. Where he was supposed to be. This was his world-Rikki-and he had everything.
Keep reading for an excerpt
from the next Carpathian novel
DARK PERIL
by Christine Feehan
Available September 2010
from Berkley Books.
I was half alive for a thousand years.
I'd given up hope that we'd meet in this time.
Too many the centuries. All disappears
as time and the darkness steal color and rhyme.
DOMINIC TO SOLANGE
CARPATHIAN males without a lifemate didn't dream. They didn't see in color and they certainly didn't feel emotion. Pain, yes, but not emotion. So why had he been reaching for a dream for the past few years? He was an ancient, an experienced warrior. He had no time for fantasy, or for imagination. His world was stark and barren, a necessity for battling an enemy who was inevitably a friend or a family member.
Over the first hundred or so years after losing his emotions, he had held out hope. As centuries passed, the hope of finding his lifemate had faded. He had accepted he would find her in the next life and he was carrying out his resolve to do his last duty to his people. Yet here he was, an ancient of great experience, Dominic of the Dragonseeker line, a lineage as old as time itself, a man of wisdom, a warrior renowned and feared. He lay awake beneath the rich soil, dreaming.
Dreams should have felt insubstantial-and at first his had been. A woman. Just a vague idea of her looks. So young in comparison to him, but a warrior in her own right. She hadn't been his concept of the woman who would partner him, yet as she grew in substance over the years, he realized how perfect she was for him. He had fought far too long to ever lay down his sword. He knew no other way of life. Duty and sacrifice were bred in his very bones and he needed a woman who could understand him.
Perhaps that was what dreams were. He'd never dreamed until a few years ago. Never. Dreams were emotions, and he'd long ago lost those. Dreams were color, although not his. But they felt like color as the years shaped the woman. She was a mystery, sheer confidence when she fought. She often had fresh bruises and wounds that left scars on her soft skin. He'd taken to examining her carefully each time they met healing her had become a traditional greeting. He found himself smiling inside, thinking how she was entirely the opposite from confident when it came to viewing herself as a woman.
For a few moments, he contemplated why he should be smiling inside. Smiling was equated with happiness and he had no emotions to feel such things, but his memories of emotions were sharpening as he moved toward the end of his life, instead of dimming as he had expected. Because when he summoned the dream, he felt a sense of comfort, of well-being and happiness.
Over the years she had become clearer to him. A jaguar woman. A fierce warrior with exactly the same values he held on loyalty and family and duty. He would never forget the night, only a week ago, when he saw her eyes in color. For a moment he couldn't breathe, looking at her in wonder, shocked that he could remember colors so vividly that he could attribute an actual color to her cat's eyes.
Her eyes were beautiful, glowing somewhere between gold and amber with faint hints of green that darkened when he managed to elicit a laugh from her. She didn't laugh often or easily and when she did, he felt it was more of a victory than any of the battles he'd won.
As dreams went and they only occurred when he was awake-they always seemed a bit out of focus. But he looked forward to seeing her. He felt protective toward her, as if his allegiance had already swung toward his dream woman. He wrote to her, songs of love, saying all the things he wished to tell his lifemate. And when she refused to rest, he'd lay her down, her head in his lap, stroking her thick mane of hair and singing to her in his language. He'd never felt more content or more complete.
He stirred, disturbing the rich soil surrounding him. The moment he moved, the pain took him, thousands of knives ripping from the inside out. The tainted vampire blood he'd deliberately swallowed had been thick with parasites and they moved in him, replicating, seeking to take over his body, to invade every cell, every organ. And as often as he purged some to keep the numbers down, they seemed to work harder to multiply.
Dominic hissed out his breath between his teeth as he forced his rising. It was not yet fully night and he was an ancient Carpathian with many battles and kills to his name. As a rule ancients didn't rise before the sun had set, but he needed the extra time to scout his enemy and get his bearings in this land of walking myths and legends.
Deep within the cave he'd chosen in the Amazon forest, he moved the earth gently, allowing it to settle around him as he awakened, wanting to keep the area as undisturbed as possible. He traveled only at night, as his kind did, listening to the whisper of evil, on the trail of a master vampire, one he was certain had knowledge of the plans to destroy the Carpathian species once and for all. His people knew that the vampires were coming together under the rule of the five. At first the groups had been small and scattered, the attacks easily fended off, but lately the whisper of conspiracy had grown into a roar, and the groups were larger and more widespread than first thought. He was certain the parasites in the tainted blood were the key to identifying all those forging an allegiance to the five masters.
He'd gleaned that much over his days of traveling. He had tested the theory several times, coming across three vampires. Two were relatively new and neither had the parasites and were easy for an experienced hunter to kill. But the third had satisfied his questions. The moment he came into close proximity, the parasites had gone into a frenzy of recognition. He had listened to the vampire bragging for most of the night, telling him of the growing legions centering in the Amazon, where they had allies in the jaguar-men and a human society that had no idea they were in bed with the very ones they sought to destroy. The masters were using both humans and jaguar-men to hunt and kill Carpathians. Dominic had killed him, a quick extraction of the heart and, calling down the lightning, incinerated him. Before leaving the area, he had taken great care to remove any trace of his presence.
He knew time was running out, fast. The parasites were hard at work, whispering to him, murmuring evil enticements, unrelenting in their quest for him to join with the masters. He was an ancient without a lifemate, and the darkness was strong in him already. He had accepte
d that his lifemate would come in the next life, and he had dedicated his life to helping his people. His beloved sister had disappeared hundreds of years earlier-he now knew she was dead and her children safe with the Carpathian people. He could do this one last task and end his barren existence with honor.
He rose from the rich soil, as rejuvenated as one with parasites in his blood could possibly be. The cave, deep beneath the earth, kept the sun from touching his skin, but he felt it anyway, knowing it was just outside the darkness, waiting to scorch him. His skin prickled and burned in anticipation. He strode through the cave with absolute confidence. He moved with the easy self-assurance of a warrior, flowing over the uneven ground in the darkness.
As he began the climb to the surface, he thought of her-his lifemate, the woman in his dreams. She wasn't his true lifemate of course, because if she were he would be seeing colors vividly, not just her eyes. He would see the various shades of green in the rainforest, but everything around him remained gray hued. Was finding solace with her cheating? Was singing to her about his love of his lifemate cheating? He longed for her, needing to conjure her up at times to get through the night when his blood was on fire and he was being eaten alive from the inside out. He thought of her soft skin, a sensation that seemed amazing when he was like an oak tree, hard iron, his skin as tough as leather.
As he neared the entrance of the cave, he could see light spilling into the tunnel and his body cringed, an automatic reaction after centuries of living in the night. He loved the night, no matter where he was or what continent he was on. The moon was a friend, the stars often guiding lights he navigated by. He was in unfamiliar territory, but he knew the De La Cruz brothers patrolled the rain forest, although there were five of them to cover a very large territory and they were spread very thin. He had a feeling the five, who were recruiting the lesser vampires against the Carpathians, had deliberately chosen the De La Cruz territory as their headquarters.
The Malinov brothers and the De La Cruz brothers had grown up together, more than friends, claiming a kinship. They'd been regarded by the Carpathian people as two of the most powerful families, warriors unsurpassed by many. Dominic thought about their personalities, and the camaraderie that had turned into a rivalry. It made sense that the Malinov brothers would choose to set their headquarters right under the nose of the very ones who had plotted theoretical ways to remove the Dubrinsky line as rulers of the Carpathian people and then, in the end, had sworn their allegiance to the prince. The Malinov brothers would become the De La Cruz brothers' most bitter and unrelenting enemies.