Page 98 of Edge of Oblivion (Night Prowler 2)
She trembled against him and clutched the arm he’d wrapped around her chest. “Ready for what?” she whispered.
Oh, yes, she was ready. Her voice gave her away. The heat and longing in it flooded him with carnal urges, but he was able to control himself, just barely. Because right now he wanted to give her something she—and everyone with a soul—deserved.
Slowly, he removed his hand from her face. “For Rome.”
She exhaled sharply. Her body fell utterly still.
Before them lay the glorious, decadent labyrinth of humanity’s most magnificent city, the crown jewel of man’s achievement and imagination, the pulsing, vibrant heart of the planet that had beaten for over two and a half thousand years. Renaissance palaces and baroque basilicas, medieval bell towers and Etruscan tombs, a sprawl of tiled rooftops as far as the eye could see washed fairy-dust gold by the huge, orange moon that lazed like a fat pumpkin over the distant black hills. A huge cloud of starlings rose in a tangle into the star-dusted dome of the sky, flashing quicksilver until they vanished into the horizon, and off in the distance the enormous stone bulk of the Colosseum crouched in the center of it all, striped gold and black like a sleeping tiger.
A little spasm wracked her body, and he looked down into her face. Her eyes were huge, unblinking, filled with tears. He gently turned her to face him.
“Eliana,” he whispered, contrite. Had he done something wrong?
She turned her head and gazed into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice choked.
His heart melted. A single tear tracked down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb.
“Silly girl,” he said gently, “you’re not supposed to cry at the start of a date. Cry at the end, like I do.”
“You, cry?” she scoffed, sniffling and wiping away the moisture around her eyes. She took a breath and straightened her shoulders. “I find that very hard to believe, Mr. Kick Ass.”
D stared down at her in mock indignation. “Mr. Kick Ass? I’ll have you know I’m very tenderhearted, Ms. High and Mighty.”
It was her turn to feign affront. “High and Mighty? I’ll have you know I’m very humble and meek.”
He stepped closer, smiling. “Really? Meek, are you?”
She tilted her head and gazed up at him through her lashes, playful. “Well. Meek for a princess, anyway.”
“Hmmm. That’s what I thought.”
He trailed his fingers over the side of her face and jaw, because he wanted to, because he could, because he loved seeing the effect his touch had on her. Even in the dark he saw her flush.
“And I’m sure you don’t date, in any traditional sense of the word,” she said, less steady than before.
His hand slipped around the back of her neck, and he drew her against him. Her hands lifted to rest lightly against his chest.
“Now why would you think that?” he murmured, lowering his head to hers.
Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt as his lips brushed her temple, slid barely touching down to her jaw. He paused at the corner of her mouth.
“Because there are too many women throwing themselves at your feet to bother with dating,” she breathed, her lips barely brushing his. “You can just take them to bed and dispense with all the formalities.”
He fisted his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and gently pulled her head back so she was forced to look up, into his eyes. “There is only one woman I want to take to bed,” he said, his voice husky, all teasing gone, “and I’m ready and willing to provide any kind of formality she requires, for however long she requires, in order to do so.”
She stared at him with dark intensity, all bedroom eyes and Mona Lisa lips, moonlight weaving blue magic in her hair.
“No snappy answer for that, Principessa?”
“Well,” she murmured, bemused, “I can’t quite figure out if that’s incredibly offensive or incredibly hot.”
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Don’t over-think it. Just go with your gut.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. Her cheeks heated. “Incredibly hot, then,” she whispered, and rose up on her toes to softly press her mouth against his.
It slew him. She was so sweet, so beautiful, so good—and she wanted him.
Him.
