He wouldn’t be fooled again.
But then he turned his head to catch sight of the delicate, honey-tinted face and his logic sizzled beneath the burst of intense yearning.
Once he’d been happy.
Centuries ago he’d been a powerful clan chief with a devoted mate and a fiercely loyal son he was training to follow in his footsteps.
He wanted that back.
He wanted it with a hunger that destroyed any lingering threads of sanity.
“What can we do?” he at last rasped.
Dara smiled, pleased with his capitulation. “We must convince him that he’s still our son and that all we want is to be a family again.”
“A family.”
“The three of us together,” she continued, weaving her web of temptation. “Just imagine, habibi.”
He frowned. “What if it’s too late? I cut all ties with Santiago when I abandoned him.”
“It’s never too late,” she assured him. “He’s following our trail even as we speak.”
He gave a slow nod. “Then, we can speak when he arrives. I can apologize and tell him how much I regret leaving him.”
“Yes, yes, but first you must make him help us,” Dara said impatiently, interrupting his fantasy of the long overdue reunion with Santiago.
“What do you mean?” he asked in confusion. “Help us with what?”
“I have something that needs to be retrieved and he’s the only one who can get his hands on”—there was a faint hesitation—“it.”
Gaius flinched. “We can’t ask him to help as soon as he arrives.”
“Why not? You said yourself that he’s family.”
“He’ll assume that we just want to use him.”
Dara studied him with an unblinking gaze. “I don’t have time to wait. Unless you want to put me back in my grave, then we must force him to help.”
Gaius shook his head. “I won’t hurt him.”
“Of course not,” she swiftly agreed. “But we’ll need leverage.”
He paused. Once upon a time he’d been the master of strategy, the one who made the plans and was the driving force that made sure they were accomplished. Dara had always deferred to his stronger will, supporting him with her gentle belief he was always right.
Until that god-awful night when the neighboring vampire clan had come to seek vengeance.
Now . . . well, she’d obviously changed.
“What kind of leverage?” he found himself asking, accepting that for now Dara was in command.
“Let me consider.” Her eyes grew distant again, as if she were seeing beyond the cellar. “Yes,” she at last murmured.
“Dara?”
The dark gaze locked on him, sending a chill down his spine.
“You’ll need your medallion.”
Summerset House
Nefri glared at the piles of expensive boxes with fancy bows and silver tissue that were spread across the room. She felt her annoyance rising as each box was opened to reveal yet another slinky gown or scraps of lace that Santiago assured her were negligees. Clothing that ranged from the impractical to the ludicrous.
Standing across the room, Santiago pulled another box from the stack that had been delivered as soon as the sun had set.
Tossing off the lid, he pulled out a skirt that was barely long enough to cover her butt and sparkling with silver sequins. “What about this one?”
Her eyes narrowed at the amusement shimmering in his dark eyes. The male was taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in displaying one worthless garment after another.
“No,” she ground out.
He reached for a tube of stretchy silk that she assumed was intended to be worn as a dress. “This one?”
She shoved her hands in the pockets of the robe she’d found in the bathroom. Santiago was wearing a matching robe, although he’d left it open to reveal the hard perfection of his bronzed body.
A body she now knew with a delectable intimacy.
A blissful shiver ran through her as her gaze slid over the lean, beautiful features that were framed by the hair that was left to fall in a smooth river of ebony over his shoulders and down his back.
His smile widened, revealing a hint of fang as the air became perfumed with her stirring arousal.
She gave an impatient click of her tongue. They’d just spent the past ten hours sating their seemingly endless desire. How could she possibly be hungry for more?
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” she muttered in a futile effort to distract herself from the thought of tumbling him onto the nearby bed.
He flashed his fangs, dangling a minuscule thong from his index finger. “I’m enjoying the thought of you wearing this.”
Damn the gorgeous, utterly sexy vampire. How was she supposed to concentrate?
Wrenching her mind away from tiny undies, half-naked males, and a bed that seemed to be calling her name, Nefri instead waved a disgusted hand toward the piles of discarded clothing. “What’s the matter with the females?” she demanded. “None of these are sensible.”
He glanced down at the thong. “Perhaps they assumed you would want to dress to please your man, not to be sensible.”
She arched a brow. “Please my man?”
“Is that an unfamiliar phrase?”
With a concentrated burst of her power, she had the thong lying in tatters at Santiago’s feet.
“It’s a stupid phrase.”
Santiago tilted back his head to laugh with rich enjoyment. Then, stepping over the piles of boxes, he prowled forward. He halted directly in front of her, reaching to tug a strand of her hair.
“You’re just so easy, cara.”
“Careful,” she warned, even as her lips twitched.
He smoothed the strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle but possessive. Something that should have set her teeth on edge, not make her treacherous heart warm with pleasure.
“I’m sure the females were simply attempting to impress you with their exquisite taste and ability to offer the most expensive gowns,” he assured her.
“Yes, I know.” She wrinkled her nose, well aware she was overreacting. Unfortunately, the need to track down Gaius and whatever was controlling him was growing more urgent with every passing hour. It made her . . . tense. “And I appreciate their gifts, but I have no use for any of it.”
He glanced toward a red leather bustier that had come complete with a whip. “Not even—”
“Santiago.”
With a soft chuckle he bent down to press his lips to her forehead. “When will you learn you can depend on me?”