She rose on her tiptoes, caught the back of his neck, and drew his head down until she could reach his mouth. It was a surprisingly tender kiss, less an act of passion than an offer of comfort.
Her lips felt exquisitely soft as they brushed over his, a delicate seduction. She started to draw back.
Ridge caught her nape, felt the cool silk of her short hair against his fingers, impossibly soft. Opening his lips, he deepened the kiss, drinking in her taste, savoring the sweet comfort she offered.
Kat responded with a tiny moan, a whimper of breath against his mouth. She leaned into him, the silk of her gown warm from her body, her br**sts lush and full against his chest. Her long legs moved restlessly, brushing his thighs.
Her scent filled his head, some delicate perfume tinged with jasmine. And beneath that, the heady musk of female arousal. He hardened in a hot, sweet rush, his balls going tight.
Vampire hearing picked up the rush of her pulse, the sea tide of her blood. His fangs slid from their housing in his jaw. He bent his head, nuzzling, and she tilted her chin, giving him access to the big, pulsing vein. . . .
What the hell am I doing? The thought blew through the smoky heat of his arousal, chill as a sudden draft. Ridge blinked.
Oh, hell, he was losing it. If he didn’t stop this, he’d be balls-deep in her and coming before he knew what hit him.
And that was a really bad idea. Tempting, yes—Merlin’s Cup, he was tempted—but there was no way he could maintain his objectivity if he banged the girl.
No, not banged, a voice whispered from the back of his brain. Nothing with this woman would be as simple as a bang. Kat Danilo wasn’t the kind of woman a man used for meaningless physical release.
She might draw you in with that pretty body, but she’d snare you tight with her intelligence, with her questing mind and dry wit. Not to mention the subtler temptations of shared grief.
That might be the most dangerous snare of all.
There was far too much Grace had kept from him when she’d asked him to sponsor Lance’s daughter.
Stepping away from Kat took a surprising amount of effort. She looked up at him, those beautiful eyes a little dazed, a bit disappointed. His fangs twinged in frustration.
“I think we’d better go back inside,” Ridge managed hoarsely, “and dance.” They drove through the moonlit night, the Porsche’s headlights spearing the darkness. In the green glow from the dash, Ridge shot Kat a look of concern. She’d danced and joked throughout the evening, teasing him subtly with a brush of fingertips here, a ripple of laughter there. She knew just how much he wanted her now, and she’d seemed determined to test his control.
But as the evening wore on, Ridge had sensed a growing tension in her. Now as they drove into her housing development, the tension hit a vibrating peak that irritated him like the rasp of sandpaper over bare skin. Does she think I’m going to lunge for her throat?
Yet, as they wheeled into the driveway, Kat’s attention seemed focused on the house rather than him.
She was out of the car before he had time to turn off the engine.
Ridge’s brows shot up as he watched her clip up the brick walkway as fast as her tight skirt would allow, fumbling her keys out of her overcoat pocket as she went. He opened the car door and strode after her.
“Mom?” she called as she wrestled the door open.
“Baby?” Her mother’s voice floated from somewhere upstairs.
Kat’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I’m home!”
She turned and gave Ridge a smile as he walked up behind her. “I had a lovely evening.”
“That’s good.” Ridge studied her with narrow eyes. “What were you so afraid of?” He could smell the fading scent of her fear, hear her heartbeat slowing its desperate thump. “I was starting to wonder if you thought I was going to jump you.”
Kat looked honestly startled. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Her laughter sounded a bit forced. “I just . . .
worry about my mom. I guess I’m a little paranoid.”
“You want me to check the house?”
“No. No, that’s fine. We’re fine.”
Ridge tucked his hands in his overcoat pockets and studied her thoughtfully. “All right. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” That smile was definitely forced.
“Look, we need to meet tomorrow night. I’d like a better idea of how you’d handle yourself in a fight.” Her blond brows lifted. “Ridge, I’m a fitness instructor.”
“I’m aware of that.” The dossier had mentioned that much at least. “But being fit doesn’t mean you know what to do when someone’s trying to hurt you.”
He got the distinct impression she was grinding her teeth, but she restricted herself to a nod. “You’re the boss.”
“Yes. I am. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
FOUR
Ridge’s house was a three-story Mediterranean villa in golden stucco, its windows arched, its low roof red ceramic tile. Impressive though it was, it looked modest next to towering Mageverse neighbors that included a Germanic castle and a sprawling Gilded Age mansion.
“Who builds these houses?” Kat asked, eyeing the crenellated walls towering over the trees next door.
Ridge shrugged. “Majae, usually. It takes a lot of magic to build a house like this. Generally you barter services, though a Maja may give you a house as a gesture of gratitude.” She grinned, swinging the athletic bag she carried in one hand. “And what did you do to win a witch’s gratitude?”
“Saved her from a Death Cult assassin.” His smile was sly and very male. “She was very, very grateful.”
“I’ll bet.”
He led her inside, past plaster walls, wrought iron fixtures, and timber-trussed ceilings. Their feet padded over gleaming tile floors in warm shades of rose, gold, and cream. The combined effect was both intensely masculine and very beautiful.
Yep, that had been one grateful witch, all right.
At last Kat followed Ridge into a cavern of a room with a towering ceiling supported by heavy dark timbers. Padded mats covered the floor, sinking underfoot with every step.
“We’ll work out here,” Ridge told her, and gestured at an arched hallway. “You’ll find a bathroom down that corridor where you can change.” he bath in question was nothing short of sybaritic, Kat discovered, all smooth cream marble with pale gold accents. You could practically swim laps in the tub, while the shower was an elegant freestanding affair with multiple showerheads protruding from the rounded glass walls.