Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Chapter 27

Lightning struck directly outside, a boom that shook the entire boat. But Garreth was already awake.

It was just after four in the morning—the time he was usually on the trail of Lucia, hoping to get a jump on her. If he’d even bothered to sleep.

Earlier, he’d petted her hair until she’d passed out, then he’d dozed fitfully himself—until he’d awakened with his shaft hard as wood.

After debating whether to wake her with his tongue back between her thighs, he decided not to push her too quickly. So he sat in the cabin’s chair, ignoring the ache in his shaft, and gazed at her, his favorite sight.

He’d never seen her like this before—still. In sleep, she panted her breaths, her brows drawn.

Another bolt. In the beginning, he’d thought all the lightning coming from her would take some getting used to. He’d thought wrong. He craved seeing it, knew it meant she was near, and it alerted him to her moods.

Lightning had struck every time just before she’d attacked him. He liked to think it was from regret….

Now things were looking up for them. The unbelievable pleasure they’d just shared was only the beginning. He’d seduce her to surrender more.

Wait, had she moaned? Maybe she had the same subject on her mind as he did.

He frowned when she did it again, and louder. No, it was a moan not of pleasure but of fear. A nightmare, getting worse. More lightning blasted down, then came a whimper.

“Lousha, rest easy.” He climbed back in bed with her, pulling her across his chest to run his fingers through her hair again. Though she never woke, she calmed.

Yet not before he felt tears on his chest. “Ach, love, what’s this?” he murmured, but she slumbered on.

He needed to uncover what had befallen his mysterious little mate. Lykae reveled in mysteries. He’d peel away the layers, find out everything he could about her. But with care. For Lucia, he would be patient, would temper his selfishness, his aggression.

Ah, lass, your secrets’ days are numbered.

“Still as ruggedly handsome,” MacRieve rumbled without opening his eyes, “as you found me last night, Valkyrie.”

Lucia jerked back, dragging the sheet with her. Luckily he hadn’t seen her hand poised just above his cheek. She’d been an inch away from stroking the backs of her fingers against his stubble.

He finally cracked open his eyes. “But look all you like. Happy to show you the whole package again.”

“Funny, Scot.” When she’d awakened to a cloudless dawn, her first thought had been that she needed to run—MacRieve would be closing in on her! Then she’d remembered the night before.

She’d already been caught. Yet her worst fears hadn’t been realized—because he’d vowed not to take her. Relaxing a shade, she’d quietly turned to watch him at rest, inwardly sighing at the magnificent male she shared a bed with.

“How did you sleep?” He gazed at her, studying her face.

She would give anything to know what he was thinking. “Surprisingly well.” Like the dead, actually. Odd for her.

“That so?” Why was he staring at her like that?

She tucked her hair behind her ear. This was so awkward. Was he thinking about last night? Recalling how she’d looked naked? Or what they’d done?

The only time she’d been intimate with a male, besides MacRieve, she’d experienced a wedding, dawning horror, and torture. Now she didn’t know how to behave.

MacRieve was looking at her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve.

But when the smell of bacon wafted into the cabin, his lids grew heavy. “Smell that, will you? Wish you ate. I’d feed you like a queen. Or at least like a princess.”

She could eat, but refraining was an inherent form of birth control for Valkyrie.

Ah, gods, was she planning on having sex with him?

“I guess I’ll have to eat your meals to hold up my end of the bargain,” he said. At her raised brows, he added, “Our deal was that I’d keep your cover if you sated me. For a night like the last, I’ll keep your cover a lot. Speaking of which, I thought I should inquire—are you ready for me to claim you yet?”

When she glared, he said, “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it.”

“MacRieve!”

He stood, not caring a whit about his nudity—or his semihard erection. In fact, he stretched in front of her, his muscles tensing and relaxing, playing all over his body. He cast her a grin over his shoulder. “Oh, and how about now?”

Her lips quirked, but she hid it. “No, werewolf!”

“It’s just a matter of time, Valkyrie—”

“Goddamnit, Chuck, what’d I tell you?” rang out from above decks. It was Travis, somehow sounding even more drunk. “Ship’s fine just the way she is!”

MacRieve raised a brow. “An intrigue. The Lykae in me needs to investigate that, and the bacon. You get a reprieve.”

As soon as he donned his worn jeans and a T-shirt and padded barefoot out of the cabin, she hurried from the bed, intending a quick shower.

The door reopened; she froze, naked. MacRieve’s lips curled into that lupine grin. “Forgot this.” Absently patting around for the bowcase, he ogled her up and down. When he’d snagged the case, he said, “Doona move till I get back.”

Once the door closed again, she heard him mumble outside, “Woman’ll be the death o’ me.”

She released a pent-up breath, hurrying for the bathroom. MacRieve continued to surprise her. Last night, he hadn’t done more, hadn’t tried to seduce her. He’d kept his part of the vow, and since she would certainly never agree to more—especially out of bed—she thought she could handle this arrangement with him.

Yes, a short journey with the Lykae, and if she could stay in control of herself, she’d have some extra muscle who knew the area to help her.

After a hasty shower, Lucia dressed, some imp making her choose a babydoll T-shirt and some of the shorter shorts she’d packed. Feeling more optimistic than she had in memory, she lightly lined her eyes with kohl and brushed on lip gloss.

She was just about to set out when her gaze fell on his bulging duffel bag. He wasn’t the only one with a marked curiosity. She knelt beside it, rooting through his belongings. Aside from clothes, she found a large leather bundle with knotted ties—and two condoms.

For other women? They must have been. Valkyrie couldn’t get pregnant unless they took steps to, and they had no need for safe sex. Though Lucia had no right to be jealous—she’d sent MacRieve away again and again—the idea left her unaccountably envious.

No, not unaccountably. She’d never denied that the Scot’s kisses were like a drug to her. Just listening to his raspy brogue made her want to sigh. From the earliest moments with MacRieve, she’d felt possessiveness toward him….

She thought she heard someone coming and stuffed everything back in his bag.

A second later, he burst through the door. “You showered without me again? You’re underutilizing me.” Before she could reply, he asked, “You ever see a caiman before?” When she shook her head, he said, “You want to?”

“Uh, sure?”

At that, MacRieve ushered her out of the cabin, with his gaze pinned on her and filled with curiosity. He gave her a grin, looking like a crafty wolf.

And she couldn’t help but feel like a henhouse he planned to raid….