It wasn’t a big change, as we were already pretty much as close as we could get, but it felt very different. A second earlier, his body had resembled carved rock; now it was warm, muscled flesh that was very definitely male. His hold loosened, changing into something closer to an embrace. It felt achingly, shockingly good. I shifted luxuriously against the muscular thigh that spread my legs, and slid my arms out of his grasp. I ran them up his chest, and the prick of his nipples through the thin cashmere brought a sudden surge of desire, hard and piercing. I quickly moved on, twining my arms around his neck.
Some of his hair had come loose and was falling about his face in a cloud of shimmering bronze, gold and copper. I wondered briefly if it was as soft as it looked, my fingers flexing with the sudden desire to bury themselves in that shining mass and tangle in a fist…. I gently pulled the clip out instead, freeing his hair to tumble around his shoulders. “Louis-Cesare,” I murmured, “I have to tell you something.”
A shaft of light from an overhead fixture illuminated the sensual blue of his eyes. The brows over them rose and a wry smile tugged at his lips. Oh, yeah, he knew exactly how gorgeous he was. “And what is that?”
I whispered my lips along his neck in a soft kiss, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of the man, the one my brain had stubbornly labeled butterscotch. His smile grew wider, softer, more genuine, forming dimples at the corners of his mouth. Curling a hand in the silken weight of his hair, I pressed still closer, until the curve of his ear was against my lips. “You’ve underestimated me again.”
I jerked down hard on my handhold, forcing his head back, and moved my other hand to the center of his chest. At the same moment, I spun, using my momentum to propel him back against the door with enough force to crack the plastic. I pressed myself against him and pulled down harder on his hair, drawing his head back so far that he was staring at the ceiling. “That’s why I always keep mine short.”
“Thank you for the tip,” he said, through gritted teeth. In a lightning movement, he hooked his foot behind my leg and jerked back, unbalancing me enough that I ended up on the floor. I couldn’t stop the fall, but I still had hold of his hair and I dragged him down with me. He landed on top, his weight causing the air in my lungs to come out in a whoosh. Before I could regain my feet, Louis-Cesare had pinned my arms and straddled my thighs, effectively immobilizing me. The few blows I managed to get in were ignored, and within seconds he had captured my wrists and forced them to my sides.
For a moment, we stared at each other, the only motion the faint vibration of the airplane’s floor beneath us. “I will not be mastered, manipulated or controlled by a… dhampir,” he finally said, his voice rough. “Regardless of her parentage!”
I bucked, but his thighs flexed, pinning me on either side. “Ditto,” I told him furiously, “except substitute ‘arrogant vamp’ in that sentiment.”
His eyes dropped and almost tangibly caressed a path across my body. “You seem well mastered to me. And if I may offer some advice, your close-combat skills require work.”
I arched up against the weight that held me down, deliberately rubbing against unmistakable evidence that his body disagreed with him. “Really? I’ve never had any complaints.”
Anger and heat flashed in his suddenly storm-colored eyes, but his response wasn’t what I’d expected. One moment to the next, something changed. It was nothing I could name, beyond a collection of gestures: one eyebrow rising in an elegant arch, a barely there, Mona Lisa tilt to his lips, a slight fall of lashes as long as a girl’s. Inconsequential details, but the air between us suddenly went electric, as quickly as if he’d thrown a switch. I was straining toward him before I knew it.
I clenched every muscle to halt the movement, while Louis-Cesare, damn him, was smiling. He slid a hand across my shoulder to my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he cupped the back of my head. I don’t like feeling overpowered, and when it happens, I fight back. But I wasn’t fighting now. I’d let him maneuver me into position and now I was letting him touch me. I remember thinking, Oh, no, he isn’t—even as he pulled me the rest of the way up. He dropped his other hand to my waist, settled my body firmly against his own and kissed me.
Such perfect pressure on my lips, such a skillful tongue in my mouth… it had been a long time since I’d been kissed with expertise and passion. A warm tongue expertly twined around my own, sending signals all over my body. I hadn’t paid much attention to the brief embrace in the car. I’d been stunned and freezing, and more interested in the Fey than in Louis-Cesare. He had my full attention now. A strong hand slowly moved downward until it gripped my backside, pressing me close.