Flashfire

  Because it seemed to be as high as her own.

  Cassie expected Lorenzo to be such a gentleman. He didn’t drag her to the desk like some guy panting to get lucky—he urged her to take a seat in one corner of the lobby while he swept to the counter alone.

  She eavesdropped shamelessly.

  Lorenzo was clearly recognized, but he worked with it. He professed to being too tired to drive home and the staff scampered to find him suitable accommodation. She saw the flash of his gold card snapping onto the counter before she glanced away.

  A man with that much charm should be classified a dangerous weapon.

  There was no sign of JP anymore and Cassie half wondered where he had gone. Bed, probably. It had to be close to one in the morning.

  Then Lorenzo stood before her, his smile making her forget everything but him.

  They rode the elevator together in silence.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d rented a penthouse that had to take up half of the top floor of the hotel. Did he do everything full-out? Cassie was thinking so.

  Which was both exciting and daunting. After all, he’d compromised—a little—to accommodate her demands.

  Did he ever compromise on the big stuff?

  Then he unlocked the door to the room, gestured her in, and Cassie froze in the foyer in astonishment. This suite was bigger than her entire house in California. The view was stupendous, the rooms enormous. Lorenzo wandered through it, a panther at ease in his new den. He flicked on lights, checked locks, ensured that everything was just as he wanted it to be.

  She was amused that his need for control extended to every corner of his life.

  “Stars or drapes?” he asked from the window, giving her the choice.

  The room was on a curved corner, and the windows ran from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. The view seemed to go on forever. Even the lights of the Strip looked glamorous from this vantage point, like fairy lights on an over-the-top Christmas tree. The sky was a deep indigo dotted with stars, stars that couldn’t compete with the neon and flashing lights on the ground.

  Cassie smiled at Lorenzo. “You’re not deciding?”

  He smiled back. “There’s an old joke that what a woman likes best is the chance to choose.”

  She could have listened to his voice all night long. It was so rich and deep, the way he spoke so measured and deliberate. He could read the telephone book to her and she’d be enchanted.

  The idea made her smile broaden.

  “There are things I like better than that,” Cassie said. She put her hand on his arm and let her fingers slide up to his shoulder. He was as muscled and strong as she remembered, but stood still, watching her.

  He really did intend to let her choose this time.

  She was amazed by this concession from a man who liked very much to be in charge. But he knew that he’d betrayed her trust by letting his desire get the upper hand—and he was choosing to prove to her that it didn’t have to be that way.

  That he would act differently just for her was enough to trash the last of her inhibitions.

  There was more to Lorenzo than the illusions he cultivated.

  “Stars,” she decided. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Stars it is.” Lorenzo turned from the window then, bent and caught her lips beneath his. His kiss was initially gentle—if persuasive—again giving her the choice.

  Cassie chose. She leaned against his chest and slid her arms around his neck. She knotted her fingers in his hair, opened her mouth, and pulled him closer. Lorenzo made a sound like a growl; then his hands locked around her waist and he lifted her to her toes. He deepened his kiss with an ardor that Cassie echoed.

  This was honest.

  This was a decision on both their parts.

  And the passion they felt was mutual.

  There was no better aphrodisiac than that.

  Their embrace quickly turned hungry. Cassie opened Lorenzo’s shirt and peeled it off his shoulders, running her hands over the muscled strength of his chest. He tugged the fastener out of her hair, loosing it over her shoulders, then ran his fingers through it. He kissed her ear, her neck; then his hands slid beneath her shirt. Her shirt was untucked, the heat of his hands roving over her skin.

  Cassie kissed him all the while, wanting to taste every inch of him. He was so warm, his skin so firm and golden. She ran her hand over his nipple and liked how he caught his breath. She pinched it then, and reached for the front of his jeans. His smile flashed; then he tossed her over his shoulder and headed for the bed.

  The bed was enormous. She had time to bounce; then Lorenzo was beside her, peeling off her shirt and unfastening her jeans. He flung her boots aside with a disdain that made her laugh.

  He stroked her endlessly as he undressed her, the glow in his eyes enough to make her preen. The sheets were pink satin, and they felt sinfully soft beneath her. On impulse, Cassie posed like a pin-up model, and loved how his eyes flashed with desire.

  “White lace,” he muttered through his teeth, as if her lingerie was the most provocative possibility. She had a thought that she could show him a whole lot more interesting lingerie than this; then he reached for her and she forgot everything except his touch.

  His kiss was demanding and wonderful, making her want everything he had to give. She pushed him to his back before he could unfasten her bra, and tugged off his jeans. He wore silk boxers, the black contrasting with his tan, but she tugged them off. He smiled at her, posing in turn. She eyed him as he lounged on the bed like a great lion, and his eyes gleamed as he let her look.

  Lorenzo was as sculpted as a Renaissance statue. She reasoned that he must be working out all the time that he wasn’t working. Cassie knew a thing or two about plastic surgery and couldn’t help but look for the evidence. She couldn’t see a single scar.

  This was Lorenzo’s original equipment.

  She met his gaze, knowing that her reaction showed. His eyes flashed and he reached again for her. He caught her in his arms, his lips in her hair, his hands sliding behind her. “My turn,” he murmured, then kissed her all over again.

  When she was nude, he looked, that smile making her blood simmer. His kisses slid down her throat, tracing a burning line as he explored her body. He cupped each breast and tasted the nipple, ran his tongue down to her navel, spread his hands over her thighs. Cassie closed her eyes and savored. The satin was smooth against her back, and his caresses were seductive. She’d never felt worshipped before and decided she could get used to it. She didn’t know what he was going to do next, but it was all good.

  Cassie caught her breath when she felt Lorenzo’s tongue slide closer to her heat. She arched her back, luxuriating beneath his caress like a cat in the sun. When he touched her clitoris, her eyes flew open.

  She saw then that there was a mirror inside the canopy over the bed. She was impressed by the sight of Lorenzo, his muscles moving as he tormented her with pleasure. She was amazed by the reflection of herself, her hair spread over the pillows and her face flushed.

  She looked about as different from her usual practical, tidy, and unobtrusive self as possible. She looked like a wanton nymph.

  In the midst of her seduction by a Greek god.

  And loving every minute of it.

  Cassie was sure she didn’t usually look like this, even in bed.

  How did Lorenzo do this to her?

  Watching their lovemaking in the mirror was unexpectedly arousing. Cassie reached to fondle Lorenzo’s hair, watching her fingers tangle in his dark curls. She closed her eyes as he coaxed her closer to the summit, then felt his hands beneath her buttocks. He lifted her up, bracing his weight on his elbows, feasting upon her. She watched his tight butt and wanted to grab it.

  Her breath caught as his teeth grazed her unexpectedl
y. Probably deliberately, given his quick chuckle of satisfaction. She’d never felt such pleasure, never had such a determined and deliberate lover.

  She was going to have to get even.

  Cassie gasped at the power of his tongue. She watched her nipples bead. She saw the flush grow around her breasts as her pulse started to pound. She saw her own breath catch. She saw the flush rise over her skin, suffusing her throat and her cheeks. She saw her eyes sparkle and her toes point. She felt the tide of heat surge through her and heard herself cry out with pleasure.

  She opened her eyes to find Lorenzo grinning at her. She crooked a finger at him and he started to ease his weight over her.

  “No,” she said, pushing his shoulder. He rolled to his back easily, waiting for whatever she wanted. “You’ll miss the show that way.”

  He glanced beyond her, grinning when he spied the mirror. Cassie knelt over him, sitting astride, then lowered herself onto him.

  He moaned and bared his teeth at the first touch of her skin to his. “Slower,” he whispered as his hands fell on her waist. “I want this to last.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cassie whispered against his throat, stealing a kiss as she took all of him inside her. “We can always do it again.”

  He smiled at her then, his eyes startlingly bright at close proximity. He pushed a hand through her hair with possessive ease, then cupped her nape. “Why do I think that twice isn’t going to be enough?” he mused, then pulled her closer for a kiss.

  Cassie didn’t answer, because she was starting to think the same thing. Then he moved his hips, filling her with his strength, and there were better things to think about.

  The digital clock on the nightstand read four thirty.

  Cassie could have been content to stay in bed with Lorenzo for the duration. There was something appealing about his determination to savor every pleasure they could give each other, to take all that life had to offer and be ready for more.

  He lived in the moment, wringing it dry of sensation.

  It was exhausting, and exhilarating.

  It felt real.

  She watched him sleep, and let her fingers slide through the darkness of his hair. Even in sleep, he was exquisite.

  But it was more than his looks that snared her. She liked that he was clever. She liked that he didn’t mind when she teased him. She suspected that he probably could laugh at himself.

  She loved that he’d given her a choice and also that he’d admitted that he was caught in this spell of attraction as surely as she was. She knew that he created illusions, but this desire wasn’t manufactured.

  No. He’d as much as admitted that it was inconvenient.

  Then he’d seduced her all over again.

  Cassie sighed and nestled against his warmth. The sky was starting to change color as the dawn came closer. The strip still twinkled below. They were sprawled across the bed, pink satin sheets smooth beneath them. Cassie turned to her side, facing the windows, and Lorenzo moved to curl behind her, his warmth at her back and his arm around her waist.

  As if they’d slept like this a thousand times.

  She thought she’d awakened him, but it must have been an instinctive move. She could feel his breath on her neck, hear the slow, rhythmic breathing of sleep.

  And no wonder. She recalled their energetic lovemaking and smiled. No sparks. No flames. No beguiling or supposed firestorm.

  But fireworks all the same.

  Cassie smiled at that. She looked at his fingers, the weight of his hand on her hip, and wished the interlude hadn’t ended so quickly. She didn’t imagine for a minute that there would be a third such interval between them.

  Lorenzo had practically told her that he was interested in single performances. This was already an exception for him. Cassie wasn’t stupid enough to expect a man to change for her.

  Cassie was also pragmatic. There was no point in making this an awkward parting. They’d had great sex, twice, and it had been a bit of fun for both of them. Unlike Stacy, Cassie didn’t believe in kismet and happily ever after.

  She sighed in reluctance, then slipped from beneath the weight of Lorenzo’s arm. He didn’t stir. He must be exhausted. She surveyed him from beside the bed, and thought she saw a glimmer beneath his eyelids, but he seemed to be asleep. His breathing didn’t change either.

  She went to the bathroom, shaking her head that it was larger than the bedroom she and Stacy were sharing, then returned to the bedroom to dress. He still hadn’t moved.

  He wouldn’t miss her. Not today and not ever.

  That was a fact, even if she didn’t like it much.

  Maybe he’d remember her.

  She was never going to forget him. Lorenzo was larger than life, an epic lover, a man no woman would ever erase from her memories.

  Great. She was back to being a groupie.

  On the other hand, it was better to leave at a high point, to part with a good memory, than to descend into all the fighting and disagreements that characterized an ill-fated match.

  As theirs had to be.

  Cassie picked up her boots, then paused on the threshold to look back. She could just see the sculpted muscles of one calf from here and the sight was enough to make her reconsider leaving.

  Cassie shook her head and slipped quietly into the corridor.

  Maybe Stacy wouldn’t notice her late return to their room.

  As soon as the door closed behind Cassie, Lorenzo rolled to his back. He folded his arms behind his head and considered his reflection.

  How could one woman be so irresistible?

  How could he have achieved precisely what he’d hoped to achieve and be disappointed? He wished Cassie hadn’t left.

  The firestorm was supposed to make a Pyr desire a specific woman, but his firestorm was satisfied. And the memory of this woman was still tormenting Lorenzo. He could have spent the entire day in bed with Cassie, inundating himself with her scent, caressing every increment of her skin, making her eyes dance with unexpected humor. He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, or even entirely under his spell.

  She surprised him and intrigued him.

  The firestorm was trying to tempt him to make a mistake.

  He thought of Caterina and the lesson she’d taught him, the way she’d tried to trap and expose him. It was no coincidence that the firestorm tempted him to make the same mistake, right before a similar disappearance.

  Lorenzo reminded himself that he never made the same mistake twice.

  Humans were deceitful. Humans lost their conviction in key moments—when they felt the heat of the fire, for example—and betrayed whoever they so chose. Or whoever they had to betray to save their own skins. Humans were unreliable.

  Diavolo.

  In the bathroom, Lorenzo reminded himself of all of those things, repeatedly, and to no avail.

  He still wanted Cassie.

  He was still in big trouble.

  This particular human was enticing.

  And simultaneously dangerous. Was that her appeal?

  What spell had she cast over him? He had no desire for a connection with a human woman, much less to make a partnership of any kind. He had obligations and responsibilities and deadlines. He was scheduled to die in less than three days, to be reborn in a new secret identity and disappear from the world of the Pyr once and for all. The success of that endeavor relied upon a lack of personal ties.

  Or distractions.

  But still. He could have followed her scent to her room; he could have found her in this massive hotel in ten minutes or less; he could have persuaded her to go home with him. He could have confided in her, precisely as he had confided once in Caterina, but he knew what the result would be.

  All the same, it took everything he had to resist the urge to follow her
.

  He was losing his edge.

  The firestorm was, he reminded himself savagely, just sex.

  Even if JP was here.

  Even if Balthasar was here.

  Even if Erik was here.

  At least none of them appeared to know about the flashfire. Or had come demanding the darkfire crystal. He decided to be grateful for small mercies.

  Lorenzo took a scaldingly hot shower, telling himself that none of this was his responsibility.

  He didn’t believe it.

  He could take her with him, invoke the flashfire, have something like a normal human life together. The idea was enticing beyond expectation.

  It was insane that he was even tempted. Confiding in others was a risk. It was a loss of control. It opened the door to the possibility of betrayal.

  Of failure.

  He knew better than that.

  Diavolo.

  Lorenzo marched out of the bathroom, impatient with himself. He had been sure that another seduction would satisfy him. He had been positive that he just had to get Cassie out of his system, that repeated exposure would diminish her allure.

  But as Lorenzo dressed, he was haunted by memories of the lush tangle of her hair—the way she gasped when surprised, the way she flushed with pleasure—and he wondered whether he was wrong. He thought of the contrast between her outward manner—tough, practical, pragmatic, blunt—and her attitude in private—coy, seductive, soft, feminine.

  They had at least one thing in common—they both loved lingerie.

  Lorenzo could sense a huge error on his own horizon. His plans always included every eventuality.

  But he hadn’t planned for Cassie Redmond. She excited him, distracted him, turned him inside out and upside down. And each time they parted, he just wanted more.

  Not just sex, although that was fabulous. He wanted to get to know her. It had taken everything within him not to stop her from leaving, not to linger over breakfast together, not to learn more about her.