A little too pretentious for his taste, but he would have bet his last dollar it was perfectly suited to Nefri.
“What is it?” he rasped, stepping further into the room, his gaze searching for a hidden enemy.
She moved to stand at his side, her expression wary. “This is an exact replica of my private rooms.”
Santiago hissed, his mind instantly consumed with the image of the handsome, lethal predator prowling through Nefri’s most intimate territory. “Baine’s been in your bedroom?”
Her brows lifted at his snarled question, the temperature dropping by several degrees. “That’s your concern? Whether or not Baine’s been in my bedroom?”
He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was something wrong with his logic. But beyond being a warrior or a vampire, he was a man. And men didn’t think clearly when they were obsessed with a particular woman. “Yes.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, Santiago, I didn’t entertain a dragon in my bedroom.”
“Then how is this possible?” he demanded, his gaze taking in each detail of the classically graceful room.
Again he was struck by just how suited it was to Nefri’s regal yet understated beauty. It was all too easy to imagine her lying on the bed, her hair spread like a river of ebony across the green velvet cover.
“I don’t know, but it’s uncanny.” Nefri moved to run a hand over a Chinese vase that stood as tall as Santiago.
Compelled by his own need to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Santiago stepped forward to grasp the wooden post of the bed. He could feel the sanded grains beneath his fingers, just as he could catch the scent of polish.
“Are you sure this sliver of another dimension doesn’t overlap the Veil?”
She shook her head. “No, this is an illusion.”
“A damned real illusion.”
She crossed to pull open the armoire, revealing several long robes that she preferred to wear when she was among her clansmen. “Yes.”
Santiago narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t explain how the dragon knew what your bedroom looked like. Or what you wear when you’re home alone.”
She closed the door of the armoire with a controlled bang, turning to meet his suspicious gaze. “Either he took the image from my thoughts or somehow I’m manipulating the illusion to reflect my preferences.”
“Your preference, but not mine?”
“And your point?”
Point? He didn’t have a point, dammit. “It just seems odd.”
“I’m not going to waste my energy trying to convince you that Baine is not and never has been my lover.” A cold blast of power rattled the silver candelabra. “Quite frankly my past is none of your business.”
A wave of possessive satisfaction flared through him at the fierce sincerity in her sharp reprimand. A satisfaction that was swiftly followed by the knowledge he was behaving like an ass.
Again.
With an effort, he reengaged his brain. “I know that,” he admitted with a grimace.
“Then why are you pouting?”
“Because the thought of any other man touching you makes me want to punch something,” he said. “Really, really hard.”
She blinked at his blunt confession. “That makes no sense.”
He moved with fluid speed to stand directly before her, his hand reaching to cup her cheek. Beneath his fingers her skin was cool, but the feel of the satin smoothness sent licks of flame through his body.
“It’s not supposed to.”
Her gaze lowered to his lengthening fangs. “Santiago.”
He stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “I need a shower.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
He smiled at her stiff tone. She could glare daggers if she wanted, but he could already catch the sweet musk of her arousal.
“You don’t expect me to wash my own back, do you?”
“I’m annoyed with you.”
His thumb tugged at her lower lip, allowing him to view the tips of her fully extended fangs.
The thought of them sinking into his flesh was enough to make him so hard it was painful. Dios. He needed to be inside this woman.
Now!
“Can you be annoyed with me in the shower?” he demanded thickly.
She nipped his thumb, her eyes darkening with the same hunger that thundered through him. “You’re impossible.”
“Agreed.” Santiago lowered his head, touching their lips together in the lightest of caresses. “Jasmine silk,” he murmured as he caught her lower lip between his teeth. “It’s no wonder I can’t think straight. You have me completely befuddled.”
“You blame me?” Her lips moved against his as she spoke.
He gently outlined her mouth with his tongue. “I’m not complaining. I like it very, very much.”
“Santiago . . .”
Her hands lifted as if she was going to put a swift end to his seduction and Santiago gave a low groan. Dios. He could feel her need. He could feel it tugging at things hidden deep in his soul.
But she was so determined to remain isolated behind her barriers that even accepting his desire became a battle.
Braced for her rejection, he wasn’t prepared when her hands instead slid beneath his sweatshirt to trace over the tense muscles of his chest.
He clenched his jaw in delicious agony. Her touch was little more than a brush of her fingers, but it was enough to send a white-hot jolt of pleasure through his body.
“Nefri,” he whispered, his kiss deepening with blatant greed.
A tiny voice might warn this was a hollow victory, but his body was eager to accept whatever she was willing to offer.
Trust, loyalty.
Genuine emotion?
He had never wanted or needed those things from a lover before. So why now?
Impatiently ripping off his shirt, Santiago wound his fingers through the satin softness of her hair and pressed impatient kisses over her upturned face. He wanted to taste every inch of her slender body. To wrap himself in her jasmine scent until they were both drowning in satisfaction.
“Nefri, I need to have you naked,” he muttered. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”
“This is madness,” she muttered as he peeled the sweater over her head and tossed it onto the floor.
He regarded her with a wry smile, his hand cupping her full br**sts and his thumb gently teasing a nipple into a tight bud.
No bra. He liked it.
A lot.
“Madness perhaps, but I no longer care,” Santiago muttered as he lowered his head to close his lips around the tip of her nipple.