Page 13 of Unhallowed Murder (A Paranormal Halloween #2)
Chapter Eleven
He’d challenged her, earlier, when he’d said she wasn’t a coward. In truth, when it came to these kinds of situations, Ronnie was terrified, but was she a coward?
She liked him, and she couldn’t remember the last man outside of law enforcement she’d been interested in just sitting and talking to. College, maybe? Nearly a decade ago. Wow .
Josef showed her whispers of something she’d thought out of her reach. He was right about the spark between them. Was she brave enough to give it energy and see what grew?
The dancing glow of the candlelight made him look dangerous — not because he was a scary vampire, but because it made him so damned attractive. She wanted those strong lips on hers, and she double-checked her thoughts to be sure they were hers. They were.
He rose, offered his hand, and the human wanted to stand without help, but the tiger put her hand in his.
Damned cat.
Music played downstairs, and Josef drew her to him in a little dance on their way to the double chaise in the shape of a wave.
Shadows played on Josef’s face, letting her imagination see the vampire. Dangerous, but so damned sexy.
She’d considered calling Nathan to ask about Josef, but she wanted to do this on her own. She wanted some privacy. Tigers are lone creatures by nature, and while she enjoyed the camaraderie at work, she also valued her time alone with nothing but a good book and a nice bottle of wine.
But tonight, she was enjoying Josef’s company, and she wasn’t a coward.
“You’re nervous and I don’t know why.” He spoke so softly, a human wouldn’t have heard.
“Am I? Yes, I suppose I am. I don’t really date. I mean, I went to high school and college, so it isn’t like I’m a virgin or anything, but…” She shrugged. “I’m a little out of my element.”
“And you’ve had a long day. As it happens, I brought massage oil up with hopes of seducing you, but I’m thinking perhaps a nice foot massage might be in order, instead. Can I convince you to remove your sexy boots, Bellula ? ”
“If I’m beauty, does that make you the beast? Or perhaps I’m both? Depending on whether I’m human or tiger?”
“I think the human with the broken nose would describe you as a beast.” His smile told her he was joking, but he probably had a point.
“You’re kind of beautiful too, you know.” She felt her face go hot, and since he could no longer hear her thoughts, she felt obligated to explain. “I looked you up, saw your statues.”
Josef shook his head. “In that century, a large penis was synonymous with a fool, so everyone with power had a small one on their statues.” He shrugged.
“There’s some science behind the theory, having to do with testosterone levels and how much time you think of sex versus how much time and effort you put towards more mundane pursuits like rhetoric and complex maths, but in the end, it’s more about promiscuity than penis size. ”
“So, you’re assuring me the statue doesn’t show your actual dick size? Is that it?”
He chuckled. “I suppose I am.”
Ronnie sat on the edge of the chaise, hoping her feet didn’t smell after being in the boots, and breathed in relief when the server brought a huge pot of steaming water, settled it near the chaise, and left.
“It’s a Chinese custom,” Josef said while taking his suit jacket off, “soaking the feet in hot water before a massage. I find it helps one relax and prepare for their feet to be touched. ”
He kneeled before her, finished unlacing her second boot, removed both socks, rolled her pant legs up, and moved the industrial sized pot so she’d be comfortable with her feet in the vessel.
“I told them one hundred and four degrees, is it to your liking?”
“It’s fine. Thank you.”
Josef put her totally at ease — the powerful vampire, kneeled at her feet, looking up — and then, when it was time for her to turn and lie back on the chaise, he managed to maintain the same energy, so she felt as if she were in control.
He dried her feet with a towel, lifted her, settled her back on the chaise the right direction, and finally pulled one of the dining chairs to the foot of the giant wave, so he could sit and massage her feet.
The chaise was rounded so she sat up at a gentle angle, and the second ‘wave’ supported her bent knees.
Five seconds into the massage, a low, involuntary groan escaped. The vampire’s fingers were magic .
The visual of him kneeled before her had shifted when he’d moved her, so she still saw him as subservient while he massaged her feet. She was in control, still, over him even while he forced the muscles of her feet to relax under his oh-so-skillful fingers.
“Were you a massage therapist during one of your lives?”
“I prefer to think of them as identities, and no. I have a better understanding of the human body than most medical doctors, though.” He pressed a spot that wasn’t quite under her heel and wasn’t quite her arch, and every muscle in her leg relaxed.
Another long, low moan escaped, and Josef gave a sexy little chuckle.
Everything was fine until he started working on her toes, and heat travelled to her groin. She wondered what those fingers might feel like in other places, and suddenly, it was too much.
Josef seemed to know, and he backed off. She checked her shields — still in place. Her scent had probably given it away.
“Close your eyes for me.” His tone was more request than command, so she did. “Long, slow strokes. Breathe with them. Let it happen. There you are. I’m going to match your pulse; seven beats per stroke. Find the rhythm and let it transport you, Bellula .”
She closed her eyes and sensed him using her heartbeat as his drumbeat. It put her back in charge again. Her heart slowed, and so did his hand.
The candles flickered through her closed lids, the faint hint of jasmine in the oil soothed the cat, and the vampire’s hands kept her relaxed.
The sounds of the city and traffic faded.