Dark Lycan (Dark #24)(77)
Author: Christine Feehan

She wore a vintage gown reminiscent of days gone by. The style suited her. The sleeves were long and the bodice clung to her full breasts and narrow rib cage, dropping to her small waist and then flared over her hips so that the full skirt fell to the floor.

Fen drew in a breath and looked over at Tatijana. The joy on her face and in her heart swamped him so that for a moment he experienced the overwhelming emotion with her. Tatijana rushed over to her sister and they embraced one another tightly.

"That is Branislava, Tatijana’s sister. She’s been . . . recovering. We didn’t expect her tonight, although we’d hoped she could come."

"She’s truly beautiful," Zev reiterated.

"Don’t let her looks deceive you," Fen warned. "She’s Carpathian, from a very powerful lineage, and she is a warrior born and bred."

Zev nodded his head. "She moves like water flowing over rock, so fluid and graceful," he said. "I have to meet her, Fen." He looked over his shoulder at his pack. Some were eating. A couple of the hunters were drinking, and Daciana danced with a Carpathian male. "Now, Fen," he added urgently. "I want to meet her now."

Zev wishes to meet Bronnie, Tatijana. I know she came here for you, to make certain you were all right, and she’s terribly shy around so many people, but would it be okay to bring him over?

We’re trying to make a good impression on the Lycans, Tatijana said, so I guess we can hardly refuse. I’ll let Bronnie know you’re bringing him over.

I heard, Branislava said. I’m not that fragile. Truly. She turned her head and looked over at them.

"Sure," Fen said. "Let’s go before everyone swamps her. She’ll be surrounded in another minute."

Zev let out his breath. "I’m not exactly suave with the ladies."

"That’s just as well. Look around you. Every one of those men will be defending her if they think you’re a player. This is a tight-knit group."

"I’ll chance it," Zev said, once more pulling off his gloves and tucking them inside his jacket pocket. "That’s a woman worth getting killed over."

Fen knew both Branislava and Tatijana heard the whispered remark. Their hearing was far too acute even with the wealth of conversations and music around them. Tatijana’s sudden grin gave them away as they exchanged a quick telling look.

"Bronnie," Fen greeted.

She turned fully to face him. Fen took her into his arms, grateful that she had come for Tatijana. He hugged her close. "It’s so wonderful to see you like this. You made the evening complete for Tatijana. She really wanted you with her."

"I’m happy to come," Branislava said. "I could feel her happiness, Fen."

Be careful, Bronnie. Zev is Lycan and must believe Fen is as well, Tatijana cautioned.

I may have been recouping beneath the earth, sister, but I can assure you, I have a good grasp on what these people would do to my brother-kin should they find out what he is.

Fen wanted to smile at the fierceness in Branislava’s tone. She was ready for combat should anyone attack her sister’s lifemate. Yet she turned to Zev with a smile that could melt entire glaciers.

"Branislava, this is my friend, Zev," Fen introduced them. "He’s an elite hunter for the Lycans."

"How lovely to meet you," Bronnie said, extending her hand. "Any friend of Fen’s is certainly welcome here."

Zev took her fingers in his hand and gallantly lifted them to the warmth of his mouth. Lycan sense of smell was very acute and Branislava’s enticing scent was so alluring he found himself entranced by her. Nearly hypnotized. It shocked him that he could be so completely mesmerized when he had been shaped and trained from the time he was a child to be a killer.

He’d been taught a woman could be a warm body or comfort, but was of little use to his role as a hunter. His entire focus was on hunting and destroying the threats to the Lycans.

"I’m honored to meet you," he said, looking into her eyes.

Staring into those deep pools of emerald green, he felt himself falling. A man could get lost there. He knew better than to spend one more moment in her company, but he couldn’t resist that sensual allure. The feel of her bare skin, even if it was her fingers, set his heart racing. Her skin was satin-soft, but so warm in the coolness of the evening it shocked him. She seemed to burn from the inside out, which only made him wonder just how hot she would burn for a man she loved.

"I am not the most elegant of dancers, but I would love to dance with you," he said.

The words came out of their own accord. Frankly, he was shocked at the invitation. He certainly hadn’t come over to her with the idea of asking her to dance. He’d make a fool of himself the moment he stepped out on the dance floor, but the thought of holding her in his arms, her body close to his, was more than he could resist.

"I would love that," she answered, with an elegant nod of her head. "But I must warn you, sir, I do not dance either. I have never danced."

You don’t have to do that, Fen said. You’re a great ambassador for the Carpathians, but you aren’t required to dance with him.

I think I will enjoy it, Branislava admitted, astonished.

She really does want to do this, Fen, Tatijana added. She seemed as surprised as her sister.

"Never?" Zev’s eyebrow shot up.

What the hell was wrong with the Carpathian males? He couldn’t imagine why this woman was unattached. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to let go of her hand. Afraid she might change her mind, he led her to the dance floor. The moment he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her in close to him, he knew he was lost.

She fit into him perfectly, melting into his body, so that when they moved they appeared to be one body, not two. She matched his steps intuitively, as if they had been dancing forever together. Her hair was silk against his face, strands catching in the dark shadow along his jaw, tangling them together, and he found he wanted them to stay like that. He swore, even the beat of his heart matched hers.

He knew he shouldn’t hold her so close, or so possessively, but he felt possessive of her. He didn’t want the music to ever end. His life was one of battles, of killing, cold nights out in the open, horrendous wounds, blood and death. It wasn’t holding a beautiful woman in his arms, drifting around the dance floor in a mixture of desire and pleasure.

"I thought you didn’t know how to dance," he murmured against her ear. Even her little shell-like ear was beautiful. He had it bad, whatever "it" was. He wanted to sweep the hair off her neck and press featherlight kisses all over her soft skin.

"You apparently are a very good leader," she whispered. "You’re so very easy to follow."