Forbidden Craving. Gena Showalter

and only you.”

      She almost—almost—laughed. “How kind of you,” she muttered.

      “Yes. I’m very kind.” He stepped back and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

      The distance...displeased her, the most feminine parts of her body actually pouting.

      She peered at his blunt-tipped fingers...at the calluses and scars slashed across his palm, a contrast to his otherwise flawless beauty. As strong as he was, he could have killed her at any moment. He could have crushed her and yet he’d been nothing but gentle with her.

      Oh, yes. I’m a fool.

      She willingly twined her fingers with his—and gasped. A blast of heat slammed into her. Tingles raced over her.

      She tried to tug away from him, to sever the connection, but he held tight. He even lifted her knuckles to his lips and kissed.

      The heat—a thousand degrees worse.

      The tingles—a thousand times stronger.

      “You are precious to me,” he said. “The one I’ve been searching for all the days of my life.”

      She bit the inside of her cheek, battling the pleasure his declaration had wrought. “Are you saying you...love me?”

      “No. Not yet. But I have no doubt love for you will come.”

      “How?” No one had ever loved her. “How can you believe that?”

      “Every nymph has a fated mate, and you are mine.”

      “I don’t understand,” she rasped. “I don’t understand at all.”

      “You will. In time.”

      The words—a warning? a promise?—rang in her head as he led her up the rest of the stairs. At the top, two gleaming crystal doors slid open.

      They traveled down a series of long, winding hallways. Luxurious hallways. Gold brick walls had been draped with strands of emeralds that wound this way and that to resemble ivy. Alabaster columns were decorated with fist-size diamonds that had been carved to look like roses in full bloom. From the ceiling hung multiple chandeliers, each in the shape of a dragon’s head, crimson-colored crystals dripping from fangs that might have been fashioned from pearls.

      The magnificence overwhelmed her.

      “Do you like your...the palace?” he asked. “We’ll be replacing the chandeliers with a less hideous design.”

      “It’s beautiful. It’s all beautiful.”

      They turned a corner, vivid wall murals coming into view. Each scene showcased a man, doing something kind for a woman. Feeding her grapes. Undressing her. Bathing her.

      “I had to paint over dragon portraits,” he said, noticing where her attention was fixed.

      “You painted these?”

      “Yes.”

      “Your talent is...” Compliment her captor? No! “Decent.”

      He squeezed her hand. “Perhaps you’ll pose for me one day.”

      Her heart rate increased. Had nothing to do with Valerian, of course. She’d obviously developed an early-onset heart arrhythmia.

      “Why did you take the palace from the dragons?” she asked, desperately returning to the previous topic of conversation. The safer topic.

      “Nymphs have always been natural wanderers. For centuries, we flittered from one location to the other in search of our next sexual conquest, but I grew weary of such an existence. I wanted more for myself and more for my people.”

      “Why? What changed?” According to her therapist, transformation required a catalyst.

      “A sense of restlessness plagued me for months. I knew if I wanted a better life, I had to do something different. This is my different.”

      Basically, he’d changed his mind. Just as he would change his mind about Shaye.

      “Usually nymphs attack only when provoked,” he added, “keeping our bestial natures under strict control, but dragons are an enemy to the vampires, our only ally.”

      “Do the other races not like the nymphos?” Bet I can guess all the reasons why.

      “They don’t like our power over women. Layel, the vampire king, finds it amusing.”

      She shuddered, praying she never came face-to-face with a blood drinker. “Do you regret the decision to steal?”

      “Not in the slightest,” Valerian replied easily. “Once I entered the palace, my restlessness was replaced by rightness. Now, having met you, I understand why.”

      She scowled at him. “Stop saying things like that.”

      “Why?”

      “Because—just because!”

      They turned another corner. Valerian stiffened.

      So did she. They’d entered what was clearly the dining hall...where the ceremony was set to begin.

       CHAPTER SIX

      FOR YEARS, VALERIAN had imagined his perfect future. He would lead the strongest army in Atlantis. His queen would rule at his side, happy to belong to him. She would adore him. Of course she would adore him. He would treasure her. Their days would be hot, but their nights would be hotter.

      Finally he’d found her—only to lose her?

      What if another warrior selected her during the ceremony?

      Someone would. Surely. What man could resist the fire burning beneath her cool facade, begging for release?

      Rage detonated inside him. He’d said he wouldn’t choose a woman, but he regretted the vow with every fiber of his being.

      He couldn’t go back on his word, but he couldn’t allow his Moon to end up with anyone else, either.

      What was he going to do? Not all of his men loved him. A few would choose her simply to strike at him.

      His cousin might even attempt to trade her for his crown.

      He’d also vowed he would never relinquish his reign. But what good was his crown without his queen?

      He wanted—nay, he needed—her. To kiss her. To know the taste of her tongue and her skin. He’d come close to kissing her in the cave. Would she have fought him...or melted for him?

      Like you really have to wonder.

      She would have fought him. For some reason, she wanted to get to know him before she allowed herself to enjoy him. A novel concept. One he actually...appreciated?

      He’d never before cared about the reasons a woman desired him. The pheromone. His pretty face. His strength. His exalted position. Whatever! But for the first time, he wanted someone to desire him for...dare he think it?...his personality—the man he’d become.

      Doubts surfaced. You kidnapped her, putting your needs above her wants. Your personality is lacking.

      Pain tore through the center of his chest. Could he win her affections despite his crime?

      Perhaps. But he would have to win her the same way he’d won the dragon palace. With cunning, precision and an absolute lack of mercy.

      Slowly his lips lifted in a grin. Oh, yes. She would soon find herself on the receiving end of a full-scale attack.

      “Take me back to the beach,” she said, tugging against his hold. Her heartbeat drummed erratically against his back, and he could feel the shallow exhalations of her breath against his skin. “Right now. I’m through playing nice. Do you hear me?”

      “Everyone