Her Vampire Lover

American high school teacher Sonja Dubcek hopes her vacation in Prague will be filled with beauty, history, and maybe a little romance. But reality proves better than fantasy when a chance encounter with a sinfully sexy count turns her journey into an erotic adventure.

Gregori has never met a woman who arouses his desire—and his vampire’s hunger—the way that Sonja does. After only one taste, he craves more than just her flesh and blood. He invites her to be his guest, but soon fears what he might do to keep her with him forever…

Her Vampire Lover

Caridad Piñeiro

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Copyright

Chapter 1

Lost luggage, weather delays and a missed connection were not how Sonja Dubcek had planned to start her dream vacation. Luckily, she had caught a flight that still got her to Amsterdam in time for her overnight train ride to Prague. It was almost antiquated to use the railroad instead of hopping on another plane, but Sonja was rather old-fashioned.

Or at least that’s what her ex-boyfriend had said to her when she caught him in bed with one of her girlfriends.

“Sunny,” he’d said, because everyone called her Sunny. “You’re just too uptight. Join the twenty-first century, for God’s sake.”

He’d been casually leaning against the pillows in their bed, her former friend beside him. When he’d suggested a threesome, it had taken all her control not to lose it.

That had been nearly two years ago and in all that time, Sunny had rebuilt her life, found better friends and promised herself a grand adventure because she knew she wasn’t as boring and predictable as her ex had insisted.

This trip to Prague was just that. Her grand adventure. If a little romance happened to come her way, all the better.

Hopefully, once her luggage finally showed up.

She boarded the train with the small overnight bag she had thankfully packed with the essentials, and the conductor guided her to her sleeper. The room was a well-designed and modern bed/bath combo, but barely bigger than her closet at home. Because she had no luggage to speak of, it was perfect.

Grungy from the nearly twenty hours of traveling, Sunny treated herself to a hot shower in the tiny corner cubicle. Washing away her troubles brightened her mood, until she creamed her elbow on the edge of the shower stall. Pain radiated through her arm and she wondered how anyone a bit bigger would be able to use the facilities. At five foot five and a size six, she barely fit.

Rubbing at her elbow as she finished washing, she then dried off and switched into the spare set of clothes she had packed: a button-down Oxford shirt, black jeans and a rather tiny lacy bra and panty set to which she had treated herself at Victoria’s Secret. She could be just as daring as the next girl when she wanted to be.

As a precaution, she hand-washed the T-shirt and undies she had been wearing, all the time hoping the airline would deliver her things to her hotel in Prague as promised.

Too excited to just sit in her sleeper car, and with hunger starting to gnaw at her innards, she headed out to the dining car.

She’d heard that Europeans ate later, but you couldn’t prove that from the nearly full restaurant and the line of people waiting to be seated. Sunny positioned herself at the end of the queue and patiently waited, occasionally scoping out the area to see if any tables had freed up. Impatiently she wondered why one booth capable of seating at least four remained empty, considering the crowd and the delays.

Those having supper seemed in no mood to rush and nearly an hour passed before Sunny was finally the next person in line.

The host in the foyer to the car arched a brow and said with an almost-disdainful sniff, “Table for one?”

Biting back annoyance, Sunny nodded. “Just one.”

With a flare of a hairy eyebrow, he said, “That’ll be another half an hour or so. We’ve just seated quite a few tables.”

Sunny pointed to the still-empty booth. “What about that one?”

Flailing his hands as if she had just suggested something sacrilegious, he said, “Oh no, no, no. That is the count’s table and it is reserved.”

Sunny glanced at the table again. “It’s been vacant for at least an hour. Surely you have a limit for how long you hold reservations?”

“For the count, we always make an exception. Just in case he decides to drop in.” The host tilted his head up at an angle that had him looking down at her as if she was a bug under a microscope.

If Sunny was one thing, it was persistent. With a determined glare, she said, “Are you telling me that you don’t even know if the count is going to dine here tonight?”

The man blustered for a moment under her withering stare, but then finally confirmed her understanding. “As I said, it is tradition to hold the spot.”

“In my home we have a tradition as well. We don’t keep guests waiting.” Without a pause, she walked into the dining car and to the empty booth set for one.

Interesting. She apparently wasn’t the only one who dined alone.

The host, who had raced after her, stammered a protest as she reached the booth.

“Madam, you cannot sit there,” he said quietly so only she would hear. He glanced around the room nervously, as if half expecting the count to materialize out of thin air.

“Watch me.” She slipped in the booth and sat, admiring the rich patina of the leather covering the seat, so unlike the more pedestrian cloth on the other booths and chairs in the room. The booth itself was made from mahogany and intricately carved with a pattern of twining vines and roses.

The host realized she would not be dissuaded and after another quick glance around the room, as if to decide if he might stuff her somewhere else instead, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

One of the waiters immediately hurried over.

“Give her your full attention. We need the table clear in case the count arrives.”

Without another look at her, the man dashed back to his podium, his manner supercilious.

“I’m so sorry, miss. Henri can be a little full of himself. What can I get you?” the waiter asked with a polite bow and a welcoming smile.

Grateful for the change in attitude, she smiled and sank back into the comfortable bench. “A glass of cabernet and a menu would be nice.”

“Certainly, miss.” With a nod, her waiter rushed away and Sunny peered out the window. Dark shadows mingled with occasional bursts of lights from a passing station or the more muted glimmers from distant homes and towns. Not much to see of the countryside because it was night, but her return trip in a week would be during daytime and she looked forward to viewing it then.

The waiter arrived with her wine and menu, and hovered nearby as she perused it. Clearly he intended to honor the host’s request to move her along quickly. The menu had a nice selection, but given the prices on some of the items and the fact she had a budget to keep, she ordered the simplest and cheapest dish—the roasted chicken. Besides, some of the other choices were items she would not normally eat. Dining-wise, the adventure she had promised herself would have to wait a bit.

The waiter scurried to place her order, and Sunny picked up her glass and toasted the empty seat across from her. “To life and love.”

It was the way her parents had toasted each other for as long as she could remember. A drunk driver had taken their lives just last year and although she missed them every day, she was glad that they had gone together to their next adventure.

She sipped the wine. Dry, it had the barest hint of vanilla and berries. She placed the glass on the table, hoping that if it breathed a bit, the flavors would mature. As she turned to peer out the window again, she picked up on the growing silence in the room until it became unnaturally quiet, like the moment before a storm hit.

A second later, a low murmur grew and seemed to rush toward her like a tsunami bearing down on the shore. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the host as he approached and of someone in a dark, impossibly black suit following immediately behind.

Preparing for the worst, she picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. Then she buried her attention on the dark, blurry images rushing past her window, until the reflection of the host standing beside the booth marred the view.

She turned to find him there, along with a man who could have been in one of those ads for expensive Swiss watches. Tall, lean and lethally elegant, she had no doubt that this was the count for whom the table had been reserved. Everything about him screamed rich and royal, from the perfect fit of what she now realized was a blue-black suit, to the snowy shirt with the perfectly knotted tie and the hand he held just so before him. His wrist boasted a large and obviously expensive gold watch. Swiss, of course.

“I’m sorry, miss. I warned you this table was reserved for the count. You’ll have to move,” the host said, but there was no hint of real apology in his voice. If anything, it had a nasty bite of “there, I told you so” in its tone.

While she tried to decide whether to cave and leave, or fight and maintain her ground, the count silenced the host with a polished and almost-careless gesture.

“Thank you, Henri, but that may not be necessary.”

The pitch of his voice was low and her toes curled as she imagined that voice in the dark, whispering the proverbial sweet nothings in her ear. Her gaze fixated on his lips, harshly masculine but full. A devastating smile came to them along with a hint of a boyish dimple at odds with his otherwise manly and proper appearance.

That dimple propelled her gaze upward. Her heart did a little flip-flop as she detected the glimmer of masculine interest. The curl that had begun in her toes at her first sight of him worked its way dangerously upward.

She licked suddenly dry lips and said, “I’m sorry, Count—”

“I prefer Gregori,” he replied smoothly and then gestured to the booth.

“Would you mind if I joined you for supper?”

Chapter 2

A bright stain of color worked its way across her cheeks and Gregori had a hard time deciding if it was from embarrassment or something else. He hoped it was something else, although there was a vibe about the woman that struck him as almost virginal. He couldn’t quite say why, because she was beautiful. Toffee-colored hair with streaks of sunlight framed a heart-shaped face with deliciously full lips. But it was her eyes that snared his attention the most. They were the dark violet-blue of the happy-faced pansies his father had used to plant to cheer up Gregori’s ailing mother.

That violet-blue gaze had been almost demure as it traveled over him at first glance.

He was used to women with a more direct approach and the kind of perusal that left no doubt about just what they wanted, which was fine with him. It was usually just what he wanted anyway. Especially because it gave them that bright taste of desire as he sank his fangs in for an after-sex bite.

But not this woman, he thought again, as he waited for her answer, anxious. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Funny response. She’d not said she’d like it or love it or any of the other expected replies.

Henri immediately jumped into the discussion. “She’s already ordered, Count. The roast chicken.” His nose twitched with obvious disapproval.

“A wonderful choice. The same for me. I’m sure it will be as delicious as always,” he replied with a glare at the host.

Holding out his hand, he introduced himself more properly. “I’m Count Gregori and you would be…”

She slipped her hand into his. It was warm, smooth and slightly moist from nerves. A skitter of desire worked through him as he imagined that hand trailing over his body.

“Sonja Dubcek, but everyone calls me Sunny.”

He held back a shudder at her nickname. Nothing sunny held an attraction for him. But as he brought her hand to his lips and her excited pulse registered against his vampire senses, he realized he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge his interest in her.

“Sonja,” he said, enjoying the way her name fell from his lips. “If you wouldn’t mind indulging me yet again, I’d love to add a few of my favorites to our meal.”

“Of course. It’s not a problem.” She withdrew her hand from his overly long grasp and lowered it to her lap.

Inclining his head down to Henri’s shorter height, he rattled off his selections and after the host hurried off, he eased onto the bench beside Sonja.

His actions surprised Sunny. She had expected him to sit across from her. The booth seemed cramped with him beside her. He had seemed lean at first glance, but she realized now that he was a big man and broad across the shoulders. Although she scooted over as far as she could, his arm brushed against hers as well as against the side of her breast—until he turned a bit to face her.

“Tell me about yourself, Sonja.”

She almost didn’t want to talk because hearing him speak intrigued her more than it should. His baritone voice was deep and smooth, like a well-played cello. An upper-crust English accent bore traces of another, more subtle inflection. One she couldn’t place. She humored his request, intending to hear more from him during the course of their meal.

“I’m a high school math teacher in New Jersey on vacation. My flight was supposed to leave last night, but there were delays, so I only landed this afternoon.”

“You must be tired after such a long trip.”

“I am, but I’m also excited about visiting Prague and seeing where my grandparents were born. How about you, Count?”

“Gregori, please. I should have guessed you were Czech from the last name.” He motioned to the waiter, who immediately brought over a bottle and two wineglasses, and whisked away her half-full wineglass.

“I wasn’t done with that,” she said, slightly annoyed at his high-handed actions.

He surprised her by leaning in close. In a conspiratorial whisper he said, “I don’t like to complain, but the wine choices here are usually a bit limited. This one is from my private stock and I think you’ll enjoy it more.”

He poured them both a taste, but when she reached for her glass, he snared her hand and tucked it into his. “Let it breathe a bit while you tell me a little more about yourself.”

Sunny hesitated and examined his features. Ruthlessly handsome would have been a good way to describe him. His face was all strong, powerful lines, but as he smiled and cocked his head to the side, the boyishness returned and his dark brown eyes glittered with amusement.

Did he find her humorous somehow? she wondered and called him out on it.

“Do you find me funny?”

He shrugged and the blue-black wool of his suit stretched tight against those wide shoulders. “I guess you could say I’m used to women who won’t shut up about themselves. You’re a refreshing change.”

His candor tempered her anger. “Maybe you should stop hanging out with all those princesses.”

His grin broadened, awakening that delicious dimple on one side, and he brushed his thumb across the knuckles of the hand he continued to hold. “Maybe. So tell me more, Sonja from New Jersey.”

“Not much to tell. I teach. Work out on occasion. Visit with my friends and family.”

“No boyfriend?” he asked with an inquisitive arch of his brow.

“Not right now,” she admitted, unsure of why she had. Although she had considered she might find a little romance on this trip, she wasn’t sure the count was what she had in mind.

“American men must be quite foolish not to snatch up such a beautiful woman.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Does that pickup line work often?”

To her surprise, he laughed as well and shook his head. “Poor Sonja. Sometimes a compliment is just a compliment.”

His chastisement stung a little, but then he leaned forward until his warm breath spilled against her lips and her heart did that funky flip again. In a low, sexy whisper that sent a wave of heat through her, he said, “When I seduce you, believe me, you will know.”

Before she could respond, he released her hand and picked up his wineglass, urging her to do the same. “Close your eyes and open your senses,” he said and she watched as he did so while taking a sip of the wine. After he swallowed, that engaging smile returned to his lips and he focused his gaze on her as he waited.

Sunny brought the glass to her lips and Gregori held his breath, imagining his lips there instead. She closed her eyes as he had asked and took a sip, holding the wine in her mouth a moment before swallowing. When she opened her eyes and faced him, her lips were moist and smiling.

“Delicious.”

He couldn’t resist. He tucked his hand beneath her chin and swiped his thumb across those luscious lips.

She drew back, but barely. A brighter flush erupted on her cheeks and her eyes darkened to nearly purple. As he slowly withdrew his hand, he touched his thumb to the small indent in her chin in a final caress. Maybe even as a promise of what could come, if she let it.

A second later, Henri and a waiter approached. The waiter set the covered plates before them and then whisked away the lids with a flourish. Henri immediately stepped in and poured a glass of another wine for each of them.

Sunny shot Gregori a questioning glance, but he quickly explained. “The foie gras is in a reduction with bits of pear. This Sauternes is on the sweet side and will mesh well with the fruit.”

Sunny stared down at the grilled piece of goose liver delicately drizzled with a brown sauce. Toast points and more sauce with bits of caramelized pear completed the presentation on the plate. Not knowing what to expect because she had never eaten foie gras, she followed Gregori’s lead, cutting off a small piece to taste.

As soon as she closed her lips over the morsel, an assortment of flavors exploded in her mouth. The sweet of the fruit and the slight tang of the sauce. The buttery smoothness of the liver, like nothing she had ever tasted. She couldn’t quite hold back the slight moan of pleasure.

“I guess you like it,” he teased and took a sip of the Sauternes. She did the same, experiencing the perfect balance of the slightly sweet wine against the earlier tastes.

She polished off the foie gras and Sauternes way too quickly, almost greedily, caught up in the sheer luxury of it and the decadent feeling it had roused in her.

Gregori was slightly slower, and when he had only a bite left, he lifted his fork and offered to share it with her.

As her gaze met his beyond the tempting tidbit, she understood he intended for them to share that, and more.

Closing her mouth over the morsel, she tasted all of the earlier flavors and one more.

She tasted Gregori.

Between her legs a low throb pulsed with each chew and after she swallowed, her mouth was dry with want. She reached for her glass, but it was empty.

Instead of refilling it, Gregori offered up his own, turning it so that she would drink from the exact spot he had. As he tilted the glass and she sipped it, the wine was still sweet, but the taste of him was far more enticing.

After he moved the glass away, she licked her lips, wanting more. Determined to take the leap, she decided to explore this unexpected adventure that had presented itself.

She leaned forward, prepared for another taste of him. Bringing her lips to within an inch of his, she asked, “Would you mind sharing something else?”

Chapter 3

Gregori sucked in a breath and rethought his earlier statement about seduction. If anyone was being seduced, it just might be him.

“Not at all,” he whispered and closed his eyes, expectant.

Her mouth skimmed over his, soft and warm. Mobile, as she traced the edges of his lips, sipping like a bee might sip nectar, before she opened her mouth on his, tasting him with a quick lick of her tongue.

He groaned and tangled his fingers in the silky strands of her hair, holding her close as the kiss deepened.

Remnants of the wine lingered, sweet, but beneath that was the subtle flavor of Sonja, clean and welcoming. Inquisitive, as she responded to him with a hesitant touch of innocence that was so at odds with the sensuality he sensed deep inside her and the daring that had initiated the kiss.

They broke apart at an abrupt and almost-condemning cough from beside them, both breathing heavily.

As Gregori turned slightly, he realized it was Henri. For a moment, he considered ripping out the man’s throat for interrupting such a delicious interlude. He restrained himself, especially when fear crept into the host’s eyes. It occurred to Gregori that his desire for Sonja had allowed a bit of the vampire to become visible.

“What is it, Henri?” A low rumble tinged his voice, confirming that the demon had to be controlled.

Henri glanced down at the tray in his hands. “Just some lemon ice to clear the palate.”

And hopefully to cool him down, he heard in the subtle condemnation of the other man’s tone.

Gregori nodded and the host placed the ices before them along with some clean spoons. As refreshing as the ices were, he regretted that they did cleanse him of the taste of Sonja. As he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, he wondered if she felt the same.

They had barely finished when the waiter returned with a cart loaded with the fixings for the Caesar salad he had ordered. When Sonja craned her head forward to watch, Gregori shifted, draping his arm across her shoulders and tucking her tight so she might have a better view.

A mistake, he realized as her hand dropped to his thigh and the side of her breast brushed against his chest. Between his legs, arousal clawed into him, making him so hard that it was almost painful. He sucked in a breath and fought it, fought the demon who wanted to come out and slake that desire in any way it could.

Beneath Sunny’s hand, Gregori’s body trembled and it was impossible for her not to notice the way the fabric of his slacks stretched against an impressive erection. The pulse that had been beating between her legs became more insistent and her body grew damp with need as she imagined taking that long, thick, hard length deep into her body.

She took a shaky breath to quell that need and instead smelled him, smelled his masculine scent beneath the light, and probably very expensive, cologne. Her nipples tightened in response and she shifted a bit on the bench. That brought her breast against the muscled wall of his chest.

As her gaze skipped across his for a moment, it was impossible to miss that he was as affected as she was.

He had draped his arm across her shoulder, but as she leaned forward, he dropped his hand until he could dip beneath her arm and cradle the side of her breast. She shook as she imagined him moving his hand just a little more to touch her tight nipple. Instead, he just brushed his hand back and forth tenderly, almost pleading for her touch as well.

She moved her hand on his thigh, a slow caress as they sat silent as the waiter prepared the salad. Their attention was barely on the man’s actions as with one light stroke after another, desire grew between them.

After the waiter placed their salad plates before them, Gregori moved his arm, bringing instant regret, but she kept her hand on his thigh, stroking. Loving the feel of the hard, tight muscles beneath her hand and the slight tremble in his body.