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Vladimir moved his hand up Lucienne’s waist and tickled her. Lucienne giggled helplessly. She dropped onto him, rolled off to the floor, and curled into a ball with hands hugging her chest to protect herself, still giggling. Vladimir flattened her.

Lucienne stopped laughing, her eyes flaring. “Don’t you ever use that against me again.”

With thick desire in his eyes, Vladimir moved on top of her, his strong, long legs pressing hard against hers.

Her every curve fit into the shape of his body perfectly.

The heat of his body radiated to hers. He smelled of sweat, wood, and the island of Sphinxes—her home.

Lucienne wanted to lock her arms around his neck and wrap her legs tightly around his thighs.

She wanted to get her fingers underneath his clothes, to feel his heated skin, to comfort it and cool it, or maybe fuel it more.

She wanted to trace the hard lines on his firm abdomen and his slightly curved, strong back, and explore further . . .

Fire and desire burned in her wine-colored eyes and her fluttering-winged heart.

They stared at each other, their heavy breathing mingled.

Vladimir murmured something in Czech, then with a fierce and chillingly possessive look, bent down to kiss her.

Her blood sang with wanting, but her last ounce of sense kicked in.

Lucienne quickly turned her face, and he landed his kiss hot on her cheek.

Still, she moaned in pleasure, even though a sickly dreadful feeling alighted in her stomach.

Her Siren’s mark flared a warning. It’d burn him if he went any further.

With explosive strength, she threw him off, her finger hitting an acupoint under his armpit.

Vladimir became immobile. She sat up, glaring down at him.

“Are you out of your freakin’ mind, Vladimir Blazek? ”

“I can’t take it anymore,” he said. His breath was still heavy, his jaw set stubbornly.

“You know what would happen if I let you kiss me?”

“I wouldn’t regret it. I’d have gotten the sweet taste of you again.”

“It wouldn’t be sweet. It’d be the tang of death!”

“I’d rather die than lose you to another man.”

“And leave me broken? Leave me alone in this dark world?”

“You’ll never be alone. You have Kian, Aida, Ziyi, Orlando, and others. You have a loyal army that adores you.”

She slapped him hard.

“Hey, no slapping!”

“I need you to know it would never be the same without you.”

“I got it. But you gotta stop dominating me.” Then seeing the tears in her eyes, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m a jealous jerk. I’ve only been thinking about my own feelings.”

“I’ve been insensitive.”

“You are. I’ve never let anyone else slap me,” he complained. “I bet you left fingerprints on my fine-looking face. How am I going to explain that to the men? ”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. You’re the king of excuses.” She touched a spot right below his heart and released him. She then traced his two lightning-shaped scars above his eyebrow. “You’re mine, Vladimir Blazek.”

Vladimir sat up, his hand wrapping around her waist, as if afraid she might escape again. His other hand stroked her hair. He knew she liked that. “Will you protect what’s yours, as I protect mine?” He locked her gaze with demand.

“You have to ask?” she sighed.

Vladimir grasped her hand thumbing his scar, pushed it down along the side of his face, and held it near his lips.

Lucienne’s heart pounded as he pivoted his face toward her palm, until his lips kissed it, gently at first, then it grew wet, hotter, and hungrier.

Lucienne tensed, but her Siren’s mark didn’t react this time.

“Vlad—”

“I won’t go too far, Lucia,” he said. “Trust me, my heart.”

The door swung open with a loud bang. Lucienne jerked her hand back from Vladimir’s kisses and turned to the door as Kian stormed in.

“Do you ever knock, McQuillen?” Vladimir frowned.

Kian stared hard at Vladimir for half a second, then slid his gaze over to Lucienne, his expression immediately turning warm and tender. “How are you holding up, kid?” he asked. “Aida was asking for you.”

Lucienne shot to her feet. “I’m coming.”

“Let’s go,” Kian said, then sniffed his nose. “Someone stinks here.” He turned to Vladimir with a scowl. The prince shrugged with a defiant look.

Lucienne turned to Vladimir. “Go home and take a shower. Or you won’t be allowed to enter the castle again. Too many people have complained. Some have even called you a foul beast.”

Kian chuckled. “Some speak the truth. ”

Vladimir rose to his feet with a lazy smile. “I’ll bathe only if you’ll dine with me tonight.”

“Dinner will be at the castle,” Lucienne said. “Aida needs a break for at least a month.”

“You know I can cook, too, at my place,” Vladimir said. “Unless you prefer dinner to be interrupted every two minutes by unannounced visitors who never knock.”

Kian snorted. “Is that how you got that black eye—for your excellent cooking skills?”

Fighting a smile, Lucienne followed Kian out, stopping at the door to look over her shoulder at Vladimir, who was still watching her. “Eight o’clock, at my place.” Then she was gone.