Her thoughts, however, had stayed fixed in the specialty room. She’d loved every second of the experience, which still stunned her. Where had this penchant come from for dominance and sex combined?

All throughout the lovemaking, she’d been so fully engaged, but now, separated as she was from his body, she felt terribly removed from Lucian. The chain at her neck was perfectly quiet. She could tell that Lucian held his emotions in check, not surprising. He’d said it exactly right: She was leaving.

The memories of what had just happened on the platform began to flow in a sudden stream. She watched them almost as an observer, especially each time she orgasmed and what she’d felt: the pleasure, the desire, and something more, something she had a hard time putting a name to.

Then it came to her: affection. She’d felt affection for Lucian the whole time, the burgeoning of something greater than mere like or even respect. Dammit, she’d started to love the vampire, the very thing she’d been avoiding.

She leaned over, planted her elbow on her thigh, and dropped her forehead into her hand. Oh, hell, what was happening to her?

She no longer recognized herself, which was part of the problem. She streamed so much of Lucian’s power that she didn’t know where he left off and she began. In psychological terms she was growing far too dependent on him, on a vampire with a darkness that lived inside him, one needing to dominate. She’d not only let him, she’d savored the experience.

She might even have treasured it, which made matters worse.

Tears burned her eyes. In the space of just a few days she’d grown fond of Lucian—yes, she loved him, or had the beginnings of love for him—but she couldn’t be feeling these things. She had a life to return to, a family, a job she loved, and a mission to continue with her social work.

She deserved a chance to be a wife and a mother, married to a normal human man, arguing with him about finances and how to raise their children, not whether he needed his blood-needs met or wondering if this would be the night Daniel would kill Lucian and she’d never see him again.

If this kept up, if she continued to have sex with Lucian, how the hell would she ever be able to part from him when the time came?

Everything okay?

Lucian’s voice drew her out of the sudden pain that had engulfed her chest. She sat up and squared her shoulders.

Everything’s fine.

You don’t sound all right.

I’m trying to be sensible and it’s proving difficult.

The water no longer ran in the shower. She rose to her feet, heading to the open bathroom door—and there he was. He stood with a black terry towel tucked around his waist.

She met his gaze, trying not to feel so much for the man.

He stared back, shaking his head as though he understood. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

His words did her in. Claire gave a small cry and went to him. He engulfed her in his arms, holding her tight.

Claire.

I’m sorry, I’m just feeling way too much right now. I loved what we just did together and I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be caring for you as much as I am, but I do. And now we have an extinction weapon to find, my friend to save who-the-hell-knows-how, and some kind of River of Lights ride to take.

For a long time, he rubbed her back, just holding her. He said nothing, but the double-chains vibrated with his concern.

Knowing that she needed to get herself together, that they had critical tasks to accomplish, she pulled out of his arms. Don’t pay any attention to me right now. I’ll be okay. And I really do need a shower.

She threw levers and yelped when cold water hit her then yelped when the water got too hot. But she didn’t care. She’d made the mistake of getting involved, of wanting Lucian to see himself the way she saw him. And now she cared about him.

Lucian’s voice once more broke through her thoughts. Rumy’s sending over some clothes for the trip to Siberia, something warm so you’ll be comfortable.

She took a deep breath. Sounds good.

She spent the next several minutes washing her hair then getting rid of all the makeup, trying to find some balance. But the last thing she’d expected, when Rumy had given her the first blood-chain to wear, was that she’d fall so hard for a vampire.

CHAPTER 11

Lucian thanked Rumy for the clothes. His staff was incredibly efficient, highly motivated to please and to do their best at all times. Eve had sent along an iPhone for Claire to use for the duration, and Rumy had provided a long fur coat for her as well. She might be siphoning his power, but it would be cold on the River of Lights ride for her, human that she was. He wanted her to be comfortable.

Rumy took off, asking Lucian to stay in touch and to come back to The Erotic Passage as often as he needed while he continued his hunt for the extinction weapon. He also said he had a few remote connections to the Dark Cave system, where Zoey probably would have lived for the last two years and where Daniel no doubt had her caged up.

“I think it’s sweet. The River of Lights. Just precious.” Rumy had smiled, but wisely took off before Lucian could smash his face in.

Some vampire couples went on their honeymoon in Siberia, which made Lucian shudder. Just what he needed, to be with Claire in a romantic setting. He didn’t want to think of her like that, in any context, and yet how many times had he made love to her over the past couple of days? It had to be some kind of record for a pair of strangers.

And now she was really distressed.

He slipped on a long-sleeved black tee, fresh battle leathers and accompanying weapons, steel-toed boots. He tapped the chains at his neck. Damn chains. This was the real problem. Maybe they didn’t lie, but if Claire hadn’t bound him in the first place, he wouldn’t be stuck feeling so damn much for her. When she’d come into the bathroom, she’d looked beyond upset, so he’d held her. But the whole time, his chest had started to ache in a way he’d never experienced before, which was the exact moment he realized that the woman meant something to him.

So much for keeping things simple.

A string of curses rolled through his head, one after the other, hot bits of invective that summarized his frustration about their present relationship. He desired Claire, wanted her, hungered for her, and it wasn’t because of the chains, it was because of Claire herself … and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about that. She’d come to mean something important to him, and he was so screwed.

When Claire emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her, he gestured to the clothes hanging on the rack then turned around so she could get dressed with some degree of privacy.

“Thanks. This is awkward.”

With his back to her, he tried not to think about her being completely naked. “I know.”

“Am I supposed to wear this fur?”

“It’ll be cold. Don’t worry, it’s faux.”

She fell silent but he heard her movements, sidesteps of her feet as she probably put on the thong that he wanted to look at really bad, but didn’t. Next, her jeans, which he knew she preferred and looked hot on her. Claire had a beautiful ass. She’d wear a bra, one of several that Rumy’s staff had bought for her and arranged in the top dresser drawer. He knew, because he’d checked them out while she was showering

He heard a faint grunt, then, “This is a bit snug.”

The comment made him instinctively turn around to look. There were the shapely mounds of her breasts overflowing a low-cut, lacy black bra. His heart might have simply paused for a few seconds, he wasn’t sure. His breathing certainly had.

He frowned then looked away. “You want a different one?” He wanted her to say no.