Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(6)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Traitorous tongue. Backstabbing lips. What the hell are you doing? Her body inched closer.

“Sì, that is it, my love. I can smell your blood.”

Blood? What the…? Every nerve in her body fired on all cylinders, but she couldn’t run even if her hair had been on fire. It seemed the harder she fought, the stronger the force controlling her became.

“Brush it against my lips, my love. I want to taste you when you kiss me.”

Without realizing it, her hand stretched down to coat her fingertips with the thick, nearly dried blood from her knee. Trembling, she smeared it over his lips.

“Now, kiss me, my love. Awaken me, my bride.”

“No! No! Let me go!” Helena struggled, but her body’s betrayal persisted. Her head dipped, and her lips rested on his sensuous mouth. In that instant, the compelling force dissipated and her entire body lit up into one glorious pyre of life.

Had she been asleep the last twenty-four years? Because she could swear she’d just taken her first breath. Ever.

Holy hell, what was that?

The torches flickered, and the wind kicked up around her.

The altar was empty.

She crumbled to the cold, dusty floor. A pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind.

“Oh, Christ. You…you’re behind me, aren’t you?” she whispered.

The deep dark voice replied, “Sì, my love. Stand, and let me see my mate.”

Helena slowly rose to face the na**d god behind her.

Chapter 2

Arms limp at her sides, knees shaking, Helena found herself staring straight up a cliff of solid muscles into the face of the most masculine creature she’d ever seen. She’d been impressed by the sight of him just lying there dormant. But awake? That was another story completely. One to tell her wine tasting slash historical romance book club buddies—The Wino Wenches.

“The expression displayed on your lovely face,” he said with a hint of amusement in his eyes, “indicates you are as confused as I. Let us make proper introductions. Then we shall sort through the particulars of our situation.” He made a slight bow of his head and then kissed the inside of her wrist. “I am Niccolo DiConti. Very pleased to meet you.”

His touch sent a sharp jolt through her arm, causing her insides to liquefy.

She snapped her hand back and scuttled against the cold, damp wall, trying to assess the situation. She’d never seen a man take up so much space. He didn’t simply eclipse her five-foot-four frame; he engulfed her with his presence.

Was he a threat? If yes, then why did she want to throw herself in his arms and treat him like her favorite boardwalk ride? Could stay on that dang Tilta-Whirl all day long.

Her skin felt flushed, the muscles deep inside fluttered and constricted, and her ni**les perked. For darn certain, that other sensation (which she was not going to think about) was her body telling her the time had come to give away that virginity of hers—just like those size seven jeans in the back of her closet.

How unkind to keep something someone else could put to good use. Greedy, greedy girl.

But she was not going to think about that. She should run. Everything about him screamed danger.

Her eyes made another sweep over his entire bare length. Darn it. She couldn’t help herself from looking. She’d never seen a man like him.

His dark eyes twinkled as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and arched one sable brow, “Pleased by what you see, then?”

Oh, yes.

“No.” She shook her head. “Who the hell are you?” Her eyes continued basking in every scrumptious detail. Is that? Is he? Oh…Yes, he is. Helena felt her face turn red hot. She quickly looked away as erotic images involving his erection flooded her imagination. What was happening to her? Her mind wasn’t normally in the gutter, or in this case, Lady-Pervert Land. On the other hand, this situation felt far from normal. Definitely disturbing. Maybe Lady-Pervert Land was her happy place. She’d always wondered where it was.

“Your eyes and body betray your words. Why do you deny your desire?” His dark gaze bore down as he studied her with curiosity.

Dammit. She needed to clear her mind, but who could think with that heavenly smell wafting through the air? She could taste him on her tongue. Was that vanilla? Cinnamon? God save her, the man smelled like cookies. Gooey, warm, fresh out of heaven man-cookies.

She had to get a hold of herself. She had to run. Did she have a chance of making it out alive? Something told her “no.” Definitely no. The chamber exit, a narrow doorway, led to an even narrower passage that would dump her back into the dark jungle. She wouldn’t make it two feet before he barreled down on her with those powerful thighs.

Yes, powerful thighs. Ummm. She ground her palm into her forehead. Tramp! Get a hold of yourself.

She’d have to find a way out. She had to be strong, keep her wits.

She lifted her chin and glared at him defiantly. The fickle torchlight offered another tempting glimpse of his dark, probing eyes, and in that brief moment, she felt like he was staring right into her very soul.

“You are so lovely.” He reached out and brushed her cheek. “Your eyes, they are the color of exotic sapphires.” He slid a curl between his fingers. “And your hair is like the sun. I never imagined…”

She didn’t recognize the accent. Mediterranean or Spanish, perhaps? No. His name sounded Italian. Regardless of origin, his voice curled her toes just like the rest of him.

“Imagined?” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth twitched with an arrogant smirk. “You are my mate, sì?”

“Mate?” Like, as in…first? Buddy? Other shoe?

Niccolo took another small step forward, lightly pressing his body, and every hard part in between, against hers. Her body instantly responded with prickly goose bumps.

“Your mate,” he said, then slowly bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “Designed by fate and the universe to be your ideal companion in every way.” His breath tickled her neck. He seemed to be completely absorbed in the act of nuzzling. “Mio cuore, don’t you believe in such a thing?" he continued in a low, seductive voice. “Human women were once enthralled by such a notion.”

Human? With that word, Helena felt her body knot up with howls of self-preservation. She managed to get a hold of herself and push him away.

He grumbled in protest.

“Why did you just say ‘human’ like that? And what does ‘mio cuore’ mean?” she asked with a breathy voice.

“My heart. It means my heart—Cimil did not explain the situation?” he asked.