After that…
She had a vague memory of stumbling over Darcy and the vampires in the upper chambers. They had swiftly bundled Harley and Salvatore in a Hummer and headed back to Chicago. And then there was nothing.
She had no recollection of arriving at the mansion on the outskirts of Chicago. Or being tucked in bed.
And she most certainly didn’t remember being stripped naked.
The last of the fog was seared away as Harley became aware of the warm body laying next to her. With a jerk, she rolled to the side, not at all surprised to discover Salvatore.
Even without the heat brushing over her bare skin, she would have known he was near. The essence of him was branded deep inside her.
Unnerved by the sensation, Harley allowed her gaze to drift over the finely chiseled face, a familiar need stirring as she took in the thin aquiline nose and full sensuous lips. With his raven hair spilled across the pillow and richly bronzed skin glowing in late afternoon sunlight, he might have looked ridiculously pretty if not for the savage power that hummed just below his sophistication.
Intent on her survey, it took Harley a moment to notice the amused gold shimmering beneath his lowered lashes.
Her heart did an alarming flop and she instinctively tensed, preparing to scramble out of the bed.
As quick as she was, however, Salvatore was quicker.
Wrapping his arms around her, he hauled her against his equally naked body, a wicked smile curving his lips.
“Buon pomeriggio, cara.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as an urgent desire charged through her. Her brain might be freaking out at the thought of being eternally bonded to Salvatore, but her body didn’t give a crap.
He was near. He was naked.
He was freaking gorgeous.
Enough said.
Doing her best to ignore the treacherous excitement spreading through her body, Harley planted her hands against his chest.
“What are you doing in my bed?”
He arched a teasing brow. “How do you know this isn’t my bed?”
“Dammit. Why are we in any bed together?”
His hands slid down to her lower back, pressing her close enough to feel his stirring erection.
“Where else would your mate sleep?”
Mate. Panic sliced through her and she struggled to put a bit of space, and hopefully a measure of sanity, between them.
“Just hold on, Giuliani.”
“I’m trying, but you keep squirming.” His warm breath teased over her cheek, sending bolts of pleasure through her body. “Not that I find it entirely unpleasant.”
“Salvatore.”
He nuzzled a path of kisses along the line of her jaw. “Yes, cara?”
She desperately tried to hold onto her train of thought. Not easy when her body was melting in anticipation.
“This whole mating thing is simple biology,” she warned. “You understand that, right?”
He chuckled, his hands running a path from her hips to the curve of her br**sts.
“There’s nothing simple about biology, cara. It’s complex and magical and far too often inconvenient as hell.”
She forgot how to breathe as his thumbs lazily teased her ni**les to hard, aching peaks.
“I’ll second the inconvenient-as-hell part,” she muttered.
“And the magical part?” he whispered, bending his head to tug one nipple between his lips.
The groan of bliss escaped before she could swallow it. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”
“I’m listening.”
“How can you be listening when you’re groping me?”
He gently used his teeth to send shock waves of pleasure through her breast to the pit of her stomach.
“I told you. I can multitask.”
No crap. He was the freaking master of multitasking. In fact, if he multitasked any better, she would be singing “Afternoon Delight” and seeing fireworks.
With a sudden shove, Harley rolled Salvatore onto his back, straddling his waist as she grimly reminded herself that they needed to get a few things straight.
She might have become his mate.
But that didn’t make her his “little woman.”
She pressed her hands to his shoulders, glaring at his amused expression.
“Pay attention.”
The golden eyes glowed with a tangible heat, his hands skimming over the curve of her hips.
“You have my full and eager attention.” He shifted his hips until his erection pressed against her backside. “Painfully eager.”
Harley clenched her jaw. Holy crap. He wasn’t the only one eager.
“We need to discuss our…” She struggled for the right word.
“Mating?”
“Relationship,” she snapped. “Or more specifically, our lack of a relationship.”
His fingers tightened on her hips. “Nothing seems to be lacking to me,” he husked. “In fact, I couldn’t be more pleased.”
“Just listen,” she commanded. “This whole mating doesn’t mean I’m going to become your plaything.”
“Of course it does.” He flashed a decidedly wolfish smile. “And for the next few centuries, I intend to keep you barefoot and pregnant while you tend to my every need.”
“Oh, yeah?” She leaned down until they were nose to nose. “I’ll see you in hell first.”
His hand tangled in her hair, keeping her from pulling back.
“Harley, the mating just happened. We have an eternity to figure out the relationship.”
“After my first litter or two? Isn’t that what you want from a female?”
“Madre del dio…” Unprepared for her accusation, his grip faltered and she pulled back to study his guarded expression.
“Darcy thought it was only fair to warn me that your sole interest in finding us was because of the babies we can produce for you.”
Harley watched the irritation ripple over his beautiful face, knowing she was being a fraud.
Not that she was interested in becoming a mindless broodmare for this Were. No way. But she did understand his frantic need for pureblooded children, and his willingness to do whatever necessary to have them.
He was king, and his first duty would always be to his people.
That was what she admired most about him.
No. She was merely using the convenient excuse to put a barrier between them.
“Remind me to properly thank her later,” he muttered.
“Do you deny it?”
“I deny nothing, cara,” he grudgingly confessed. “My intention was to create pureblooded females who could carry a litter to full term. But everything has changed now that you’re my mate.” His expression softened with a tenderness that smashed directly into her heart. “My personal miracle.”