Dark Challenge by Christine Feehan

cannot touch me like this.”
    His thumb moved back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm over her pulse. “I can do no other than touch you, De-sari. I am, after all, a Carpathian male. You cannot see yourself, in that dress you wear, with your hair tumbling around you. You are so beautiful, it hurts to look at you.”
    “Julian, please do not say such things to me,” she whispered into his palm.
    “It is only the truth,
cara
, nothing for you to fear. Come with me.”
    His voice was such temptation. She had never wanted anything more in her life. The pull between them was electric. She swore she could hear it sizzle and arc. She stood there in silence, his hand against her skin sending waves of heat rushing through her blood. In all her centuries she had never experienced such a thing.
    “Desari, you know it is right. You feel it. I promise to return you to your family safe and sound this rising.” Julian was aware of the men gathering outside her door. Three of them. One was her formidable brother, the other two members of the band. “We do not have much time,
piccola
. The others are about to break through thedoor.” He waved a hand in a peculiar pattern, then held his palm out toward the door.
    “I cannot.”
    “Then I must stay here and convince you,” he said unhurriedly, calmly. As if his death weren’t imminent at the hands of her protective family.
    She clutched his arm. “You must go before this thing escalates into violence. Please, Julian.”
    He could hear her heart beating wildly. He bent his head to hers, his mouth curving into a genuine smile. “Come to me. Promise you will meet me at the small tavern three blocks from here.”
    There was a loud popping sound from the other side of the door, and someone—it sounded like Barack—swore aloud. They could both hear Darius reprimand him softly, “I told you not to touch the door. Have some respect.” His voice was low and hypnotic. “Desari?” He didn’t raise his voice but rather dropped it to a whisper. “Open the door for us.”
    “Go out the window,” Desari insisted, pushing at the wall of Julian’s chest. It was a mistake to touch him; he instantly responded by covering her hand with his, trapping her palm against his heavy muscles.
    “I came through the door,
cara
, and I intend to leave the same way. Do you meet me later, or shall we stay together here?”
    She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her palm. Steady. Solid. Not in the least affected by the fact that he was hunted by three powerful predators just a door’s width away. His thumb was feathering back and forth across the back of her hand, feeding the flames already leaping in her body. Desperately Desari attempted to shake him off. He was a rock, unmoving. “What am I going to do with you?” she demanded.
    “Say you will meet me. Do not allow your brother torule your life.” He could smell the leopards now, knew they had joined the three men and were pacing restlessly in the hall.
    Desari knew it, too. “All right. I promise,” she capitulated. “Just go before something terrible happens.”
    He bent his head and brushed her soft, trembling mouth with his. It was the lightest of kisses, but a gentle lingering, yet she felt it touch her heart, her soul. He smiled at her, his golden eyes burning with molten heat. With need. “So,
piccola
, open the door.”
    Desari’s fingers curled in his cotton T-shirt. “No, you do not understand. You cannot go out there.”
    “Remember your promise to me, Desari. Come to me.” Julian bent his head one last time to her because he had to. She smelled fresh and clean, a breath of air from the highest mountains he loved so. Her skin was softer than rose petals. His body was making harsh urgent, relentless demands. Julian controlled them, but he needed to touch her, to feel her response, to feel the burning flames in her matching the firestorm in him. For he was on fire.
    His mouth found hers. Hot. Demanding. Dominating. His hand