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He led her inside, past plaster walls, wrought iron fixtures, and timber-trussed ceilings. Their feet padded over gleaming tile floors in warm shades of rose, gold, and cream. The combined effect was both intensely masculine and very beautiful.
Yep, that had been one grateful witch, all right.
At last Kat followed Ridge into a cavern of a room with a towering ceiling supported by heavy dark timbers. Padded mats covered the floor, sinking underfoot with every step.
“We’ll work out here,” Ridge told her, and gestured at an arched hallway. “You’ll find a bathroom down that corridor where you can change.” he bath in question was nothing short of sybaritic, Kat
discovered, all smooth cream marble with pale gold accents. You could practically swim laps in the tub, while the shower was an elegant freestanding affair with multiple showerheads protruding from the rounded glass walls.
It was all enough to give a girl ideas, especially after last night’s toe-curling kiss.
The memory of Ridge’s mouth had left her shifting restlessly in the sheets all night. He’d felt so tall and deliciously strong against her, yet he’d touched her with exquisite care, as if she was something fragile and valuable. The simple brush of those lips had been enough to leave her aching.
When her tongue touched the tip of one fang, Kat had felt a strange erotic jolt, a delicious blend of fear and desire. Ridge was so utterly unlike any other lover she’d ever had. Next to his elegant restraint, every other man seemed a fumbling boy in retrospect, overeager and graceless.
Kat might have thought Ridge a little too cool, in fact, had she not sensed the patient predator beneath his gentleman’s mask.
Vampire.
Grace had told her the genetic spell that was the Gift could only be triggered by making love to one of the Magekind. Which meant Kat would have to brave that dark and alien masculinity. Feel those fangs break her skin, that thick cock pump into her sex.
Dry-mouthed, Kat began to undress. Her nipples stood stiff and aching as she took off her bra. She shivered in anticipation and bent to dig hastily in her workout bag for her clothes.
hile Kat changed, Ridge retreated to his own room two floors above to don a pair of loose cotton pants. Barefoot, he padded back downstairs a few minutes later.
To stop in his tracks and stare.
Kat was bent double in the center of the room, one hand wrapped around her left ankle as she stretched, chest flat against her thigh. Her legs were amazingly long and deliciously bare, displayed by a pair of thin cotton shorts. When she straightened, he saw she wore a cropped tank that revealed a tight, lean belly. Her breasts rode her chest in round little handfuls that made him want to peel that thin tank off for a better look.
As he watched with hungry interest, she bounced on her bare toes, eyeing him. “What now?”
Somehow he resisted the impulse to suck in his stomach. He knew his body was hard and strong from years of swinging a sword in practice bouts against his fellow Magekind.
But immortal, ageless vampire or not, he was still a guy.
Ignoring his ego, Ridge stepped closer and gave her a come-ahead gesture with his fingers. “Show me what you can do. Hit me.”
He’d trained his share of Majae over the years, and he knew what to expect. An awkward swat he’d barely feel, delivered with a complete lack of speed or skill. And no strength whatsoever.
Smoky blue eyes narrowed as she stepped up to him. That was all the warning he got.
Kat came up off the floor, her fist blurring at his chin with the full weight of her body behind it, clean and hard as a heavyweight’s jab. If he’d been human, she’d have bloodied his nose. As it was, he barely ducked in time to avoid the punch. The breeze of her fist fanned his hair.
Her eyes narrowed, delicate lip curling up in a feral snarl, as anger crackled like a lightning strike in those cool blue eyes. Kat didn’t like missing.
She came after him then, throwing first a left, then a right, snapping both punches wi
th speed and skill and no hesitation at all. When he automatically avoided both, she whirled into a spinning kick he was forced to knock aside with a thrust of his forearm.
She didn’t even stop for breath. Every blow was harder, faster, punch flowing into punch flowing into kick. She picked her targets like a pro, aiming for ribs, head, knees, ankles at seeming random.
Just to see what she’d do, he finally started throwing punches of his own, human-slow at first. She blocked them with all the strength and speed her Latent genetics gave her.
“You’ve done a hell of a lot more than teach kickbox ing,” he commented, jerking aside to avoid a kick that would have knocked a human cold. He caught her ankle and flipped her like a poker chip.
Kat hit the ground on her back and rolled to her feet, as cleanly and easily as if she’d practiced it a thousand times. She probably had. “Black belt.” She was breathing a little faster now, but the anger was gone from her gaze. She’d obviously realized she couldn’t afford the luxury of rage against someone like him.
Ridge snaked a fist past her guard and popped her on the nose. He pulled it, but it still rocked her head back.
