He enveloped her in a towel and dried her off until her skin was rosy. “I take your health and safety seriously, Savannah.” He was clearly unrepentant.

She shivered a little and pulled the towel around herself, suddenly unnerved by all the changes in herself. She was only twenty-three, not even a quarter of a century old. She had spent the last five years living exclusively in the human world. Now her wild nature was calling to her. Gregori was touching something untamed in her, something to which she had forbidden herself access. Something wild and uninhibited and incredibly sensuous.

Savannah looked up at his dark, handsome face. It was so male. So carnal. So powerful. Gregori. The Dark One.Just looking at him made her go weak with need. One glance from his slashing silver eyes could bring a rush of liquid heat, fire racing through her. She became soft and pliant. She became his.

Gregori’s palm cupped her face. “Whatever you are thinking is making you fear me, Savannah,” he said softly. “Stop it.”

“You’re making me into something I’m not,” she whispered.

“You are Carpathian, my lifemate. You are Savannah Dubrinsky. I cannot take any of those things from you. I do not want a puppet, or a different woman. I want you as you are.” His voice was soft and compelling. He lifted her in his arms, carried her to his bed and tucked the covers around her.

The storm lashed at the windows and whistled against the walls. Gregori wove the safeguards in preparation for their sleep. Savannah was exhausted, her eyes already trying to close. Then he slipped into the bed and gathered her into his arms. “I would never change anything about you, ma petite,not even your nasty little temper.”

She settled against his body as if she was made for it. He felt the brush of her lips against his chest and the last sigh of air as it escaped from her lungs.

Gregori lay awake for a long time, watching as the dawn crept forward, pushing away the night. One wave of his hand closed and locked the heavy shutters over the windows. Still he lay awake, holding Savannah close.

Because he had always known he was dangerous, he had feared for mortals and immortals alike at his hand. But somehow, perhaps naively, he had thought that once he was bound to his lifemate, he would become tamer, more domesticated. His fingers bunched in her hair. But Savannah made him wild. She made him far more dangerous than he had ever been. Before Savannah, he had had no emotions. He had killed when it was necessary because it was necessary. He had feared nothing because he loved nothing and had nothing to lose. Now he had everything to lose. And so he was more dangerous. For no one, nothing, would ever threaten Savannah and live.

Chapter Ten

Gregori stared with dismay at the small, two-story house enclosed in wrought-iron latticework and sandwiched between two smaller, rather rundown properties in the crowded French Quarter of New Orleans. He inserted the key in the lock and turned to look at Savannah’s face. It was lit up with expectation, her blue eyes shining.

“I have definitely lost all good sense,” he muttered as he pushed open the door.

The interior was dark, but he could see everything easily. The room was layered with dust, old sheets covered the furniture, and the wallpaper was peeling in small curls from the walls.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Savannah flung out her hands and turned in a circle. Jumping into Gregori’s arms, she hugged him tightly. “It’s so perfect!”

He couldn’t help himself; he kissed her inviting mouth. “Perfect for torching. Savannah, did you even look at this place before you bought it?”

She laughed and ruffled his thick mane of hair. “Don’t be such a pessimist. Can’t you see its potential?”

“It is a firetrap,” he groused, but he was studying the heavy draperies and the narrow staircase leading both upstairs and to some lower sanctuary.

“Come with me.” Savannah was already hastening toward the stairs. “Let me show you the big surprise, Gregori. This is why I bought it. It isn’t just a fantastic house with a great garden.”

“Garden?” he echoed. But he followed her. How could he not? She was radiating joy. He found himself just watching her, every movement she made, the way her head turned, the way her eyes danced. She was so beautiful. If she wanted a claustrophobic little house in the middle of the French Quarter, if that made her happy, he would not deny her.

The stairs, very narrow and steep, wound downward in a spiral to an unexpected basement that ran the length of the house. New Orleans was built on water-logged ground below sea level. Even the dead had to be entombed above ground. New Orleans made him edgy. There was no earth to burrow into in an emergency. No easy, natural escape. New Orleans presented problems he didn’t want at this time.

Gregori peered at the basement’s cement walls, its solid floor. He paced the length of the room, circled the perimeter, moved to the center, and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply. There were shadows of others in this room, of those who had come before.

“Do you feel it?” Savannah asked softly. She placed a hand on his arm, her fingers curling halfway around his wrist.

He stared down at her small hand. He could feel that touch through his entire body. Yet her fingers couldn’t even circle the thickness of his wrist. He found himself aware that she did that often, wrap her fingers around his wrist, connecting them. And that little gesture seemed to melt his heart.

Gregori forced his attention back to the present. So Savannah felt the presence, too. One who had been here before them. Julian.Julian Savage had lived in this house. Why? What kind of security had he established here? For Julian must have steered Savannah toward this house when he had become aware of her desire to come to New Orleans.

Gregori slipped an arm around her shoulders. “What do you know about the former owner?”

“Just that he wasn’t here for long periods at a time. The real estate agent told me that the house had been in the man’s family for nearly two hundred years, that it’s actually one of the oldest homes in the Quarter.”

“But you never actually met him?” Gregori prompted. “No,” Savannah replied.

“Julian Savage was the former owner, though it is hard to imagine him ever living here. He is a loner, as untamed as the wind.” He paced the room again. “If Julian gave up this sanctuary, one he had for nearly two centuries, it can mean only one thing. He is choosing the dawn.” He said the words dispassionately, without expression, but inside he felt that curious tearing he was becoming so familiar with. Emotion.

Sorrow. So many of his kind gone forever. Julian was stronger than most, more knowledgeable. He hated losing Julian.

Savannah stroked his arm. “We don’t know that, Gregori. Maybe he just wanted to give us a wedding present. Don’t assume the worst.”

Gregori tried to shake off his melancholy, but he felt he would barely be able to breathe in this crowded, closed-in neighborhood. “Other people’s houses are right on top of this one,” he said. “I think they could take one step and be in our living room.”

“You haven’t seen the courtyard yet, Gregori. The house opens up to a courtyard in the back, and it’s immense and in quite good shape.” Savannah began heading up the stairs, ignoring his grousing.

“I hate to think what you would call bad shape,” he muttered as he followed her upstairs.

“I wonder why everything is so dusty,” Savannah said. “I had the real estate people come in and clean and get things ready for our arrival.”

“Do not touch anything,” Gregori hissed softly, and very gently he caught her shoulders to put her behind him.

“What is it?” Instinctively she lowered her voice and looked around, trying to see if there was some danger she had been unable to sense.