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Authors: Deborah Cooke

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy

Flashfire (6 page)

BOOK: Flashfire
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She was more interested in the way Lorenzo’s tongue danced with hers. Cassie was feeling impulsive and in need of some fun.

She was pretty sure she’d found it.

Chapter 3

L
orenzo was shocked, and it was a novel sensation.

He’d been surprised by Ms. Practicality’s question. Whether there was more to this human than met the eye, or whether she was so caught in the spell of his beguiling that she’d given him the perfect question was irrelevant. He had no idea what she knew about the
Pyr
, much less why she was interested, and he didn’t care. Her query had given him the ideal way to close the show.

Spectacularly.

Always his favorite choice.

What shocked Lorenzo the most, though, was this woman’s reaction to him. She’d witnessed his shift to dragon form and back again. She’d fingered his talon—no surprise, given her obvious skepticism—to check whether his dragon form was real. Yet she hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t run. She hadn’t turned away from him in revulsion.

Far from it. She was no fainting damsel, and although he generally preferred meeker women—they were easier to leave behind when the time came—he was aroused by this woman’s passion.

He’d expected—no, he’d
known
—that her reaction would be the complete opposite of what it was. Being wrong about this woman and his own reaction to her threw his game slightly.

In a most delicious way.

Erik would be livid that Lorenzo had broken the Covenant—that no
Pyr
should reveal himself to any human in both his human and dragon form—but Lorenzo would be only too happy to remind the leader of the
Pyr
that he had not actually sworn the Covenant. He couldn’t be berated for breaking a pledge he hadn’t made. Besides, he was consummating the firestorm, which was always a significant agenda issue for Erik.

That might take the spark out of the inevitable argument.

Lorenzo was ever so slightly troubled that he had shifted shape for the first time in centuries, and done so by choice, but he blamed that on the firestorm. The ends justified the means. He’d be back to normal in no time.

Lorenzo was doubly relieved that the woman had been so readily beguiled. She must have found him attractive, which made it so much easier for him to seduce her. A human could only truly be beguiled to do something he or she already had some yearning to do. Her surrender made the matter much simpler.

It was about time that his life became less complicated.

When she kissed him back with such ardor, his hopes for an entertaining interval were increased. He’d never expected her to have any passion. They couldn’t extinguish the firestorm without surrendering to its demands, and Lorenzo had been afraid it might be a task.

Instead, it promised to be a delight.

After the curtain closed, Lorenzo swept the woman into his arms and headed for his dressing room. He broke a kiss only to dismiss his assistants with a single lethal glance. They scurried out of sight, already knowing it was smarter to keep their thoughts to themselves.

Ms. Practicality, meanwhile, was pulling his head down for another soul-searing kiss. Her lips were swollen and red, and her face was flushed. The sparkle in her eyes and the hint of a smile was alluring. He smiled at her, then kissed her again. He kicked the door to his dressing room shut behind himself, locked it, and carried the woman to the bed in the back corner.

She looked more irresistible by the second.

There was no need for conversation. The firestorm’s flames flickered between them, setting the space between their bodies alight with orange light. The radiance of those flames touched the woman’s skin, gilding her cheeks, making her look more beautiful than he had expected.

He was enchanted by her.

Lorenzo rolled onto the bed, impatient to see the firestorm resolved, yet wanting to linger over the pleasure it promised. Once again, he was glad he had not skimped. This was no flimsy cot, but a queen-sized bed with a luxury mattress and sheets of finely woven cotton. It was stacked high with pillows and a wonderful duvet. He didn’t sleep here often, but Lorenzo saw no reason to ever make do with second best.

The woman twisted in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. Even with her jeans and his swimsuit between them, he was well aware of the softness that denim hid. He braced himself over her and broke his kiss. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. The flames of the firestorm licked and danced between them, sizzling his skin and coaxing his desire to an inferno.

“Wow,” she said and he liked the sound. He’d noticed when she asked her question that her voice was low and sultry, unexpectedly so for a woman who looked so practical. At closer proximity, he could see that she was very pretty, her lashes a dark copper and her eyes a clear blue.

That voice could persuade him to linger.

That voice could persuade him to unravel all of her secrets.

Lorenzo had no time.

“No words today,” he murmured, dropping a finger to her lips to silence her, then slid his fingertips along her jaw.

“But . . . ,” she began, but Lorenzo didn’t want to argue. He didn’t care what tools he used to achieve the end he desired.

“But time is of the essence,” he murmured, letting the flames light in his eyes, the flames that persuaded humans to believe.

“Essence,” she echoed.

He could guess that she wasn’t one to act on impulse. This was a faster seduction than she would have preferred.

But Lorenzo had no time to court her surrender.

And he already knew that she wanted him. He was just being expedient, not changing the inevitable result.

She stared at his eyes, apparently transfixed by the flames. Her lips parted in wonder, looking ripe and soft and tempting. Her ponytail had come loose and her hair was wavy and wild spread across the pillows. The sight of her reminded him of paintings of sirens and temptresses.

He was tempted to make more of this than simply the firestorm’s satisfaction. He wanted her to have the best sex of her life. The firestorm might have drawn his eye to her, but now that he had looked, he wanted more than one quick interval.

Temptation, indeed.

Lorenzo coaxed the flames in his eyes to burn higher and her lips parted in awe as she stared.

“Feel the heat between us,” he murmured, watching the firestorm’s flames dance between her skin and his fingertips. To his surprise, she reached up and slid her own fingers over his shoulders. He swallowed at the demanding heat she sent through his body.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one casting a spell.

He kissed her again, and she wrapped herself around him. The power of their kiss left him dizzy, and the insistent demand of her caressing hands prompted him to forget everything other than this woman.

He opened her blouse and was astonished to find that she wore a lacy bra of dark purple satin. The choice seemed out of character, making him wonder what else he hadn’t imagined about this woman. Was there more to her than met the eye? He was tempted to believe it, but knew it would be foolish to become involved.

Instead, he let his admiration of her choice of lingerie show. He traced a fingertip along one edge as she blushed. She was slender, but her breasts were a generous feast. He would never have guessed that her jeans and practical shirt hid such ripe femininity, but she was as curvaceous as a goddess.

Maybe closer to being his kind of woman than he’d guessed.

Again, he was surprised.

“You are beautiful,” he said, and meant it.

She might have protested, but he brushed a light kiss across her mouth. She sighed as the firestorm’s flames danced between them.

Then she touched her tongue to his.

Lorenzo thought he would explode.

“Beautiful,” he whispered into her ear, letting his fingers slide along her throat. She arched her back beneath his caress and he smiled at her loveliness. He slid his palm over her breast, loving how she caught her breath when he touched her taut nipple. “Exquisite,” he added, then pinched that turgid nipple.

She gasped; then he kissed her again. He unfastened her jeans, discarding the boots and masculine clothing that hid her many charms. His fingertips told him that her panties matched the bra. And her skin was so fair—the contrast would be gorgeous.

Lorenzo had to see.

He sat up and surveyed the perfection of her lounging on his bed, the red-gold waves of her hair in disarray, the purple lingerie making her skin look like flawless ivory. He was astonished. He would never have guessed that such a gem was hidden by her armor.

She reached out, smiled, and hooked a finger into the waistband of his bathing suit. Lorenzo smiled, shed it, then returned to the bed. Her eyes glowed with anticipation as he took her in his arms again, and their kiss fired his blood even more. He removed her panties and caressed her, loving how she caught her breath at his first touch.

And after that, there was no time for conversation. The firestorm drove them to erotic heights, pushing them to satisfy each other over and over again. Lorenzo had never had such a coupling. Her passion challenged all of his assumptions about humans—and her unexpected laughter provoked a reaction deep within him that he would have preferred not to feel.

Hours later, Lorenzo stood beside the bed, watching the woman sleep as he dressed. He was both exhausted and yearning for more. He was physically sated, but still there was more he wanted to know about this woman. He couldn’t reconcile her no-nonsense appearance with her luxurious taste in lingerie, her apparent pragmatism with her passion. She had surprised him more than once, which was a novelty to him.

He didn’t even know her name.

He reminded himself that he didn’t want to. Such curiosity was dangerous. More information could only lead to more entanglement between them. They’d done what had to be done. He would leave it at that.

He had beguiled her, Lorenzo reminded himself. Just because she’d found him attractive didn’t mean that she’d intended to do anything about it, either today or any other day. He felt a twinge of guilt about his decision, but couldn’t regret all that had happened between them.

That was when he realized he’d forgotten to feed the flames in his eyes after he’d been startled by the sight of her lingerie. Beguiling had gotten her into his bed—the seduction that had followed had been by mutual choice. Some other sorcery had unfolded between the two of them then, some other magic that had surprised him with its ardent heat.

He’d probably never see her again.

And even though that was exactly what he had thought he wanted, Lorenzo was disappointed by the prospect. Unlike most women, one interlude with this one hadn’t been enough.

That hadn’t happened to him since Caterina.

Which should have been warning enough.

Lorenzo stretched out one hand—hoping on some level that he hadn’t been thorough enough, knowing that he had. There was no flame between them any longer.

The spark was dead.

The firestorm was over.

Lorenzo would not be disappointed.

He sighed, even so.

He should be relieved. He should be glad that there would be nothing drawing him to this woman again. He told himself that the only good news was that he’d been smart enough to not fall under the firestorm’s spell. He’d acted quickly, solved the issue, and now could push it—and the woman—from his thoughts. It was exactly what he wanted.

Even if he felt cheated.

Even if he felt once again the hope that Caterina’s betrayal should have killed forever.

It wasn’t smart to yearn.

And Lorenzo was smart.

Even if he had to remind himself—twice—of that.

Lorenzo took one backward glance from the threshold, unable to resist the sight of her, then left the theater.

Cassie awakened alone in Lorenzo’s dressing room.

She was naked, her clothes folded neatly on a nearby chair. Her lingerie was on top. She certainly hadn’t left her clothes that way—they’d been flung in every direction when she’d peeled them off. She had also been tucked into the bed by somebody and she could guess who it had been.

Why would that surprise her? Lorenzo had been a thoughtful lover.

A thorough one.

If one she hadn’t planned on having. Cassie sat up in a hurry and shoved a hand through her hair. She looked around once more, this time with alarm.

What the hell had happened here? Where was Stacy? How could Cassie have abandoned her? What time was it? How had she ended up being impulsive when she was normally cautious about sex?

Cassie felt as if an alien had taken possession of her body and mind. She
never
did things like this. She never would have willingly left Stacy alone.

On the other hand, Stacy had always insisted that she should have more fun.

When she stopped to think about it, Cassie felt pretty good about taking her friend’s advice.

This interval with Lorenzo made her wonder whether she’d missed out on a whole range of experience. It had been, without a doubt, the best sex she’d ever had. Was that because it had been impulsive? She was both exhausted and stimulated. She’d been not only more impetuous than usual, but had felt more comfortable with her own body. She’d felt sexy. She’d felt powerful. And what they’d done to pleasure each other had been phenomenal.

Stacy was the one person who would understand a desire to be impulsive about sex. She’d probably congratulate Cassie on finally loosening up.

But still. She’d met her share of charmers in her time, and nobody but nobody had ever gotten her into bed on the first date.

Never mind
before
a first date.

The whole thing was surreal. There’d been that leaping spark between them, the one he’d launched in her direction over and over again. She had felt raw lust every time he’d stepped onto the stage. Again—Lorenzo was gorgeous, but Cassie dealt with gorgeous hunks all the time. None of them had ever had this effect on her.

Then there’d been the dragon snatching her up. The burning heat everywhere they touched, like little armies of flames, and the glow of fire on her skin. There had been those flames in Lorenzo’s eyes.

Had they been a reflection?

How had he made her burn with desire?

BOOK: Flashfire
6.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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