Carpathian 15 - Dark Secret

intimidating. She could readily believe he never had to sneak up on women. Any woman. They probably just threw themselves at him.
    His smile widened, revealing amazingly white teeth. "Is that what you think I do, pequena, irritate you?"
    He leaned closer still, resting one hand on the wall beside her head, effectively imprisoning her. "I would not have described your reaction to me quite so."
    Colby held her breath as his heavily muscled frame brushed tantalizingly close to her smaller one. Her legs felt weak, her breasts ached, every nerve ending leapt to life, tingling with awareness. The heat of his body was astounding. She thought the room temperature might have shot up a few hundred degrees.
    His hand gathered up tack from its storage place on the wall. Colby could have sworn he laughed softly as he turned to sit on a bale of hay, but when he looked up, Rafael's expressionless mask revealed no emotion whatsoever. "Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me?" he asked, patting the hay beside him.
    She stared at him as if he had grown two heads. His hands were busy on the leather, his fingers sure and deft. She watched him, counting the beats of her heart. Finally, reluctantly, Colby took the two steps bringing her to his side. "You're going to help me with the tack? What's the catch, De La Cruz?"
    "I think it would be a good time to start calling me Rafael," he said quietly.
    Colby hesitated a moment then sat down, careful to avoid touching his body. Even so, she could feel the heat radiating out to her. Body heat. "Rafael, then," she repeated with a sigh, "what's the catch?" She caught the bridle he dropped in her lap, desperate to do something to distract her attention from him.
    "Is that your philosophy on life?" he replied mildly. "There always has to be a catch? A most interesting way to live. It is an American tradition?"
    She reprimanded him with one look from under her long lashes. "You know very well there is no such thing. It's occurred to me more than once over the years that there's a price tag on almost everything."
    His black eyebrow shot up. "Including simple friendship?"
    She didn't look at him as she worked the leather, her fingers sure and quick. "I don't think you know what simple means. What is it you want from me, De La Cruz?"

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    "Is it so difficult to use my name?" he asked softly, the sound of his voice washing over her, brushing at her insides and causing a melting sensation in the region of her stomach.
    "I don't believe in fraternizing with the enemy." She glanced at his perfectly chiseled features and just as quickly looked away. "You are the enemy, Rafael." Deliberately she used his name to prove she wasn't afraid of him. It was a mistake. It created a further intimacy between them in the small room. "You want my sister and brother. You want the ranch." Her eyes suddenly locked with his. "Mostly you want to go home and I'm in your way." She stared intently at him as if seeking something beyond what he was telling her.
    Rafael felt the sudden surge of power in the room. It was strong and focused. He knew immediately she was reaching for the information in his mind, seeking answers to the sudden change in him. Joy surged through him, but he kept his triumph buried deep. He reached casually for the next piece of equipment, his arm deliberately brushing her body. "That was true a couple of days ago. It no longer is so."
    "What has changed?" There was a wealth of skepticism in her voice.
    "I met you." He said it softly, meaning it. Everything had changed. He was going home, but he was taking her with him. Nothing else mattered to him, he would have her, whatever it took. He should just take her.
    He had enough power to kidnap her, get her to his home territory, yet his very feelings for her prevented him from doing so. She looked sad, weary. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, close against his body, and comfort her. Rafael was a vampire hunter, a man of swift decisions and action. After more than a thousand years of living, he found himself in new territory. "I am very sorry about your friend. Sean tells me you were very good to the man. I am sorry, I do not know his name."
    "Pete. Pete Jessup." Her throat constricted, but she fought her way through the emotion and continued.
    "He was a very good friend to me. I'm not sure I can run the ranch without him. He couldn't always do the work, but he