Broken Dawn Read online

  Nick grabbed the last bowl of fruit and leaned back beside her. Aiming the remote at the television again, he propped his booted feet on the ottoman.

  Her lips twitched. They looked huge next to hers. She’d always had small feet. Back when she was in high school, the other girls had made fun of her for it, as if wearing a size five somehow made her less womanly than wearing a size seven or eight. But she kinda liked the way her size fives looked beside Nick’s big-ass boots. It made her want to know what it would feel like to have those large feet tangle with hers beneath the covers.

  Nick made a humming sound of pleasure that made her nipples tighten.

  Get your mind off sex, damn it! She glanced up at him, entranced by the movement of his strong jaw as he chewed.

  “These blueberries are delicious.”

  Absently, she nodded. So was he.

  He bent his head over his bowl. “Look how big this one is.” He held up a particularly plump blueberry. “Here. You take it. The big ones are always the best.”

  Eliana made a choked sound of amusement behind her.

  When he held the berry in front of Kayla’s lips, some little gremlin inside made her part her lips so he could place it inside her mouth.

  Sweet juice exploded on her tongue as she chewed it. “Mmmm. That is good. Thank you.”

  Did his gaze linger on her lips a little before he dragged it back to the television? “You’re very welcome.”

  Kayla focused on the show and did her damnedest to follow the storyline.

  Nick didn’t make it easy. He offered her several more of the sweetest berries. Then—once his bowl was empty—draped his arm across the back of the sofa so it brushed her shoulders.

  Eliana offered up a running commentary on the show, which Kayla did enjoy quite a bit. But once her tummy was full, fatigue began to creep in. Nick’s scent continued to tease her as his warmth drove her toward Sleepyville.

  Was she leaning into him? Because even the side of her face felt warm now.

  She fought to keep her eyelids from drifting shut.

  Something strong curled around her and cuddled her close.

  She sighed, contentment slithering through her as darkness descended.

  This was nice. The cushion that pillowed her head was both hard and soft at the same time.

  A deep voice murmured in the background.

  What was Idris Elba doing in her house?

  Something nudged her feet like a puppy tugging at her shoelaces. Too cute.

  Her shoes hit the floor.

  A big body spooned up behind her, chasing away all thoughts of puppies. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and drew her back against a hard form.

  Not Idris Elba. Nick Belanger.

  Best. Dream. Ever.

  Nick was having the best dream… until he awoke and realized it wasn’t just a dream. He lay on the sofa, curled up with Kayla. And holy hell, her body felt good pressed against his. He was spooned up behind her, one arm pillowing her head, the other wrapped around her with his hand cupping a full breast.

  Oops. When had that happened?

  Her breast was exactly as he had imagined it would be after years of picturing her naked, filling his big hand with perfection. She didn’t wear one of those padded bras that concealed her nipples. Nor did she wear one that shoved her breasts up to her chin to make them look plumper. So he could feel the hard peak against his palm and wanted badly to tweak it, roll it between his fingers and thumb, pinch it, and see what would make her moan.

  But she hadn’t exactly invited him to touch her. She had fallen asleep during the show, leaning against him more and more, inspiring warm, fuzzy feelings inside him. He supposed he should have woken her and walked her home, but… when else would he have an opportunity like this? An opportunity to hold her and sleep beside her and soak in the peace and contentment she inspired?

  Shit, she felt good against him. Eliana had removed Kayla’s shoes before tiptoeing upstairs to sleep in Oliver’s room. Knowing his mischievous friend, she would probably rearrange just enough stuff in there to drive Nick’s Second crazy when he returned from his vacation and tried to figure out what was different.

  Kayla shifted in her sleep, her beautiful bottom rubbing against his erection.

  It was all he could do not to moan.

  The good guy in him lambasted him for taking advantage until—in painfully slow increments so as not to wake her—he released her breast and rested his hand an inch or so away on the sofa cushion. At some point, her head had slipped off his arm. Nick withdrew it, careful not to bump her, so he could prop himself up on his elbow and study her.

  Kayla was the cute kind of beautiful. A plethora of pale freckles dotted her cheeks and nose. More speckled her slender arms, left bare by her tank top.

  Nick decided he loved tank tops.

  He knew from the many birthday celebrations he’d overheard since she moved in next door that she was thirty-eight years old. But she could easily pass for a decade younger. No lines had yet begun to form beside her eyes or along her mouth, probably because her pale freckled skin burned too easily for her to spend much time in the sun.

  He also knew she worked out almost daily, something her trim waist and lightly muscled thighs showed. She’d lost her father to a heart attack when Becca was five. She’d lost her mother to cancer three years later. Both had set her upon a quest to find a diet and exercise routine that would enable her to live long enough and well enough to chase her future grandchildren around the playground and give them plenty of piggyback rides even if Becca waited until her forties to have them.

  She shifted in her sleep again, that tempting bottom of hers nearly dragging a moan from him. Her hand grazed his forearm, then slid down to his hand, drew it closer, and tucked it between her breasts.

  Her lips turned up in a faint smile.

  Hell. She was even cute when she slept. How awesome would it be to experience this every morning when he went to bed and to wake up to this every afternoon?

  He really envied Marcus. His longtime friend had fallen hard for a woman and married her a few years ago. A woman who apparently hadn’t balked at the idea of transforming and spending eternity with him because Marcus had mentioned looking forward to spending century after century with her. They had even adopted a child together since Immortal Guardians couldn’t father children.

  Nick struggled to bring his body under control, to tamp down the arousal that seemed to grow by the second. Kayla shifted again and would likely wake soon. Rolling over and finding him staring down at her with glowing eyes would probably scare the crap out of her.

  She tightened her hold on his hand…

  Consciousness beckoned. Kayla fought it, wanting to remain in dreamland a little longer. A large body curled around hers, warming her back and infusing her with peace and contentment. Curling her fingers around a big hand, she hugged it to her chest… then stiffened. Her eyes flew open. “Oh shit.”

  Kayla rolled onto her back and looked up.

  Nick smiled down at her, his hair rumpled and his handsome face coated with thicker stubble. “Morning.”

  “I fell asleep?”

  Amusement twinkled in his pretty brown eyes. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’ve fallen asleep on this sofa many times myself.”

  Sure, because it was his sofa, upon which he had apparently slept last night. With her.

  Wait. Had he even had a choice? Had she fallen asleep on him? Was that why he’d slept on the sofa with her?

  Heat filled her cheeks, then deepened when she realized she was still holding his hand between her breasts. Hastily releasing him, she sat up. Her chestnut hair tumbled around her shoulders in what probably resembled a bird’s nest. She couldn’t be one of those lucky women in the movies who woke up with their hair spread across the pillow in lovely, shining waves. No, hers probably looked more like a maniacal squirrel had wrought havoc in it until it stuck out in weird angles
.

  As casually as she could, she combed her fingers through it in an attempt to tame it. “What time is it?”

  “Nine. You’ve only been asleep for about three hours.” He sat up beside her, careful not to accidentally nudge her off the cushions. “Sorry we kept you up so late. I should’ve warned you that Eliana and I are both night owls. Hazards of the job and working nights.”

  “That’s okay. Where is she?” And how pissed would she be about Kayla cuddling up with Nick? Eliana had said they were just friends, but that could’ve meant friends with benefits.

  “Upstairs, sleeping in Oliver’s room.”

  She paused. Why had he felt the need to clarify that, to make it clear Eliana wasn’t in his room?

  He smiled and offered her a slight shrug. “You were sleeping so soundly I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

  So he had opted to sleep beside her?

  As if he could hear her thoughts, he added, “And I didn’t want you to roll over and fall off.”

  Kayla eyed the large sofa and the ottoman. She suspected there had been little danger of that and thus no need for him to have lain down with her.

  She arched a brow.

  Nick cleared his throat. “I was tired?” he suggested hopefully.

  He looked so adorably sheepish that amusement danced through her. “I guess we both were.”

  His charming smile reviving, he tucked several stray strands of hair behind her ear.

  Her skin tingled at the innocent touch.

  Her nipples tightened. And her gaze dropped to his soft lips.

  What would they taste like?

  What would he taste like?

  She dearly wanted to find out, but…

  Had he really wanted to sleep beside her last night? Or was that just how her still sleep-fogged, infatuated brain had interpreted his words, his expressions, while it looked for something she desperately wanted to see that wasn’t actually there?

  Nick lived next door to her. If she kissed him and he wasn’t into it, she would have to face that embarrassment every time she saw him. And she had no plans to move anytime soon.

  Eliana had said she and Nick were just friends. But she could be lying. People cheated. Kayla had learned that lesson well. Eliana could be cheating on Max with Nick and just didn’t want Kayla to think less of her. Nick might wish to avoid the same.

  Taking the safe route, she rose. “I’d better head home and get a couple more hours of sleep. I have an appointment at three thirty and want to get a little work done before I go.”

  Something she thought might be disappointment flickered momentarily in his features, then he smiled again and stood.

  “Okay.” He helped her find her shoes. “Thanks for joining us last night. It was fun. We should do it again.”

  She cursed her heart for fluttering in her chest. He wasn’t asking her on a date. He was inviting her to maybe hang out with him and Eliana sometime in the future. “Sure. Sounds good.”

  She followed him to his back door.

  “Let me walk you out.” He escorted her onto his patio, then across the grass to his gate. He waited patiently while she left his yard and entered her own. He even lingered at the fence until she unlocked and opened her back door.

  “Thanks, Nick.”

  Smiling, he dipped his head in a brief nod. “See you later.”

  The prospect pleased her more than it should have. For some reason, it felt as though something had changed between them.

  But it hadn’t, right? Not really?

  Uncertain, she entered her home and closed the door.

  Chapter Three

  Nick couldn’t get back to sleep. He tried. He really did. But every time he closed his eyes, he remembered how it had felt to wake up with Kayla’s warm, pliant body in his arms. Her firm ass wedged against his lap. Her narrow back pressed to his chest. Her full breast cupped in his hand. Her fragrant hair teasing his nose.

  He hadn’t slept with a woman in the literal sense in… well, he couldn’t remember how many years. Decades?

  No.

  Centuries?

  Yes. It had been centuries. Not since he had become immortal now that he thought about it. The risk had been too great.

  He also hadn’t slept with a woman in the figurative sense in a long time. Meaningless sex with strangers got old after a century or two, particularly since the positions he could choose were limited. The eyes of immortals and vampires acquired a very noticeable glow whenever they felt strong emotion—like lust. So he almost always had to take women from behind to keep them from freaking out.

  And while such did scratch the itch, so to speak, after a while it just got boring. He never made a personal connection with one-night stands the way he had when he’d taken lovers as a mortal. There was no friendship. No affection. Just the satisfying of a physical need. Like eating an apple for a snack. He could eat an apple every day for centuries, but it just wasn’t the same as a big piece of steaming hot, fresh-from-the-oven apple pie.

  Yeah. He had long since lost interest in casual sex with strangers.

  Unfortunately, immortal/human relationships almost always ended badly. Humans couldn’t transform with the vampiric virus without suffering the progressive brain damage that would rapidly drive them insane. So the human was destined to age and die. More often than not in such relationships, the aging human grew bitter over the fact that her lover remained forever young. When he would leave each night to hunt, she would suspect him of meeting clandestinely with a younger woman. Then he would grow bitter over her lack of trust. And even if such did not transpire and the two remained steadfastly devoted to each other, the human was destined to die and leave the immortal alone to grieve her loss.

  Tomasso and Cassandra were a perfect example of the latter. The two had been together for over a century. Seth’s incredible healing gift had enabled him to extend Cassandra’s life. But he couldn’t stave off old age and death entirely. Cassandra now looked old enough to be Tomasso’s grandmother. The two were still as in love and devoted to each other as they had been when they’d met 130 years ago. But their relationship was not without difficulties. Their time would draw to an end in another two decades or so. And Tomasso would be devastated when he lost her. He had waited hundreds of years to find Cassandra and experience the love the two shared. Nick didn’t know how his friend would survive facing centuries of solitary grief after she was gone.

  Nick headed down the hallway to his studio and grabbed a sketchbook. Opening it, he flipped past dozens of drawings he had done of Kayla and began yet another.

  Immortal/gifted one relationships didn’t fare well either. The fact that gifted ones could safely transform and spend the rest of eternity with the men they loved didn’t necessarily mean they would want to. For centuries immortals had been likened to vampires, whom the church had deemed evil. Soulless. Damned. In the past, no gifted one had been willing to risk an eternity in hell by transforming to be with an immortal. And immortals, not knowing why exactly they were the way they were, had not asked them to.

  Slowly, Kayla’s likeness came to life on the page as he sketched her the way she had appeared as she’d slept beside him on the sofa.

  Times have changed though, a little voice inside him murmured.

  Immortals now understood that a peculiar virus—one that behaved like no other on the planet—made them what they were. They understood that anyone who possessed advanced DNA like their own could safely transform without losing their sanity. And several female gifted ones had fallen in love with Immortal Guardians in recent years and voluntarily transformed so they could spend the rest of eternity with them.

  Maybe Kayla is a gifted one too, the voice suggested.

  He didn’t think so. She had demonstrated no special abilities that he could see.

  Then again, gifted ones were usually careful not to reveal their differences. And the DNA of today’s gifted ones had been diluted with ordinary human DNA for so many millennia that the
y sometimes bore gifts that were so mild they didn’t even realize they possessed them.

  The phone next door rang.

  Nick ignored it. His preternatural hearing enabled him to hear the goings-on in most of the homes around him. Centuries of practice enabled him to tune most of it out as he did now.

  Until the machine asked whoever was calling to leave a message.

  “Hi. This message is for Kayla,” a woman said. “This is Harper, from Dr. Fisher’s office. I was just calling to see if you were still planning to come in for your appointment today. If not, please let us know so we can reschedule you.”

  His hand stilled. He glanced at the clock as Harper droned on, leaving a phone number and mentioning they would have to charge her a fee for missing the appointment.

  Kayla had left over an hour ago. She’d said her appointment was at three thirty.

  It was now four o’clock.

  Frowning, he set the tablet and pencil aside, left the studio, and headed downstairs. Maybe she had run into traffic. It seemed as though rush hour started earlier every year in Houston. Or perhaps there had been an accident that had backed things up.

  He’d left the remote on the ottoman earlier. Nick grabbed it and turned on the television, flipping over to a local channel that hosted an early-evening news program. The anchors mentioned a double murder in Bellaire, glossed over the latest happenings in politics, then followed with a fluff piece about a dog.

  No mention was made of the vampires he and Eliana had slain at the University of Houston the previous night, a result of the network’s astonishing ability to clean up such things.

  An Amber Alert followed the dog story. Really? A dog adopting a stray cat took precedence over a missing child?

  He shook his head in disgust as they segued into a weather forecast teaser. No rain. No freezing temps. No surprise.

  Nick fought a growing sense of unease as he glanced at the time indicated on the screen.

  Finally! The traffic report.

  A woman in a formfitting dress and incredibly uncomfortable-looking shoes warned drivers of a longer than usual commute. Apparently a four-car accident had brought traffic to a standstill. The muscles in his shoulders began to relax. The intersection mentioned was likely one Kayla was trying to get through to reach her dentist’s office, so she must have been held up in—