“Stubborn,” Miss Nadine muttered under her breath as she flipped pancakes onto a large plate and handed them to Chase.

  “And don’t you forget it,” Delight taunted. With the sun shining in through the kitchen window, making patterns of light and shadow on the wall, and the three of them sitting together eating breakfast, she felt the last remnant of her nightmare fade away.

  And when she heard the sound of footsteps on the front stairs, she set down her fork and knife and hurried out of the kitchen to bid one of the guests good morning. Her own breakfast was forgotten as she led the visiting tourist into what had been the formal dining room of the grand old house. Now it was set up with a scattering of tables and chairs to accommodate the B&B’s guests.

  She detoured to the sideboard, where a pot of coffee was already brewed and waiting. Since this was the man’s second night with them, Delight filled his cup without him having to ask. He was already glancing at the small menu. They only served breakfast here at the Grande, but made a selection of pastries and muffins available at all hours of the day and night.

  “Miss Nadine made pecan pancakes this morning,” she told him. “I can promise you they’re delicious.”

  “Pecan pancakes?” He tucked the menu back between the salt and pepper shakers. “That makes my decision easy.”

  Delight smiled. “Would you like some fresh fruit with that?”

  He nodded. “I’d better. That way I can at least tell myself I’m trying to eat healthy when I’m stuffing my face with seafood later today.”

  Delight laughed and headed back to the kitchen, the dream all but forgotten as the normal routine of the day took over.

  Chapter Three

  Lucian Dalakis came completely awake in the blink of an eye. One moment he was in a dead sleep, the next he was wide awake, alert, and totally aware of his surroundings. Sprawled across his large luxurious bed, which had once belonged to a Russian prince, he mentally scanned his home. None of the doors or windows had been tampered with and every stick of antique furniture was in its place. Everything was as it should be.

  The sun had just set and he was alone.

  The remnants of his dream played over and over in his head like an unending loop. The dream had hit him as soon as he’d closed his eyes just before dawn. He could enter other people’s dreams at will, but it was rare for his kind to have dreams of their own. So when it did happen, he paid attention. He prided himself on his cool, urbane demeanor and his control. But in his dream, he’d had neither.

  When he’d first heard a woman’s cry, it was as if someone had stuck a knife in his heart. Her pain was his pain. Then his anger had stirred like a sleeping beast suddenly unleashed. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He wanted—no, needed—to kill those men who had dared to put their hands on her. Dared to hurt her. Even now, his fangs lengthened and his hands curled into fists at the mere thought.

  Taking a deep breath, he slowly unclenched his fingers and forced himself to relax. It was only a dream. Even as he told himself that, he knew he didn’t believe it. She was as real as he was, and she was out there in the city. Alone. Unprotected. Waiting for him.

  He could still taste her on his lips, a combination of honey and sweet woman. His tongue flicked over his teeth, savoring the flavor. Lucian had lived a long, long time and had made love to many women—all sizes and shapes from many different countries and all walks of life. They fascinated him with their soft skin, sweet scent, rounded curves, and enticing hollows. But never had he felt such a need in his life as he did for this particular woman.

  Delight. Her name suited her. Delicate features gave her an ethereal air, and her pale blue eyes shone out of the face of an angel. She’d worn no makeup, and hadn’t needed any as her skin was smooth and soft. Her short, light brown hair framed her face to perfection. But her body was a surprise. She was average in height, and slender with subtle curves. But her breasts were lush and full, more than capable of filling his large hands. His fingers itched to stroke and caress the soft mounds of flesh and pluck at her nipples.

  Just thinking of her made him hard. His cock was long and thick and throbbing. If she were here next to him, he’d already be buried to the hilt in her moist, welcoming heat. She’d be so damned sweet. He’d try to take his time, to draw out the pleasure, but he was doubtful that he’d last long the first time he had her. It would probably be hard, fast, and over much sooner than he wanted.

  But once he’d sated himself with her warm, willing body, he would take his time and savor every delectable inch of her. She’d been eager in the dream, reaching for him, pulling him closer. He let his eyes drift shut and pictured her naked, spread out before him on his bed like a sumptuous banquet just waiting to be sampled. She would arch her back, pushing her breasts toward him while she opened her luscious thighs, offering herself to him.

  Her sex would be hot, moist, and pink as blood flowed to the area, as she grew more aroused. He could imagine his tongue savoring the soft, slick folds. Her skin would taste slightly salty and divine.

  For an appetizer, he would nibble on her breasts, enjoying their texture and shape while teasing her rosy nipples into even tighter buds of desire. While his mouth was pleasuring her breasts, he would touch her, stroking and examining every delectable inch, until there wasn’t one part of her that he didn’t know intimately.

  Only when she was a mass of burning desire would he touch the tiny bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Softly at first until she cried out and begged him for more. She’d spread her legs wide and arch her back frantically off the bed, pleading for him to take her.

  A low growl escaped him as his erotic fantasy made his entire body tighten. He wanted to take her from behind, to mount her and drive into her over and over until they both found release. Delight was a feast for the senses, just waiting for him to take the first bite.

  And he would. Because as much as he wanted to lose himself in her amazing body, he wanted to taste her even worse.

  While he was driving his cock into her welcoming heat, he would lean over her, trapping her body beneath his larger one. Her neck would be exposed and vulnerable. She would arch back to meet him, offering him everything. He would graze his fangs over her nape before sinking them deep into her soft flesh. Then he would drink from her.

  Sweat rolled off his body and his cock jerked as his fantasy grew more detailed, more real. Beads of liquid seeped from the tip of the flared head. She would be tight, wrapping around him like a wet velvet glove. He growled, almost feeling her slick channel clamping down on his shaft. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and pumped his hand up and down, all the while imagining himself enveloped in Delight’s welcoming wet heat.

  Lucian could easily conjure her moans of pleasure as he palmed her breasts before rolling the tight buds between his thumbs and forefingers. She was his to take however he chose, whenever he chose. He tipped back his head and groaned with pleasure as his fist continued to slide up and down his hard length.

  His testicles drew up tight to his body. Blood pounded through his veins. Lucian craved her taste like a dying man in a desert yearns for water. His fangs ached for just a sip of her sweet blood.

  Alive. She’d made him feel so damned alive. His hand continued its frantic pace. A familiar pressure grew until it exploded upward. He caught his breath as his release shot over his belly and chest. Groaning, he milked his cock, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure. When he was finally spent, he sank back against the pillows. Replete, but not satisfied or even remotely relaxed. If anything, he was even tenser than when he’d awoken.

  He could still smell her blood. Her attackers had hurt her in the dream, drawing her precious blood from her body. Lucian growled low in his throat and his eyes snapped open, blazing like green fire.

  It didn’t matter that it was a dream and wasn’t real. Delight Deveraux was his and he would kill anyone who harmed her, tried to take her from him.

  Lucian threw back the down-filled comforter and rose from his bed. Unconcerned by his nakedness, he stood on the platform that surrounded the bed, elevating it several extra inches off the floor, and wiped the evidence of his orgasm from his stomach with the corner of the sheet.

  He stretched his arms over his head, loosening his tense muscles before stepping down to the floor. It was cool beneath his feet as he strode toward the thickly shuttered window, his muscles rippling with every step he took. He pressed a button that was hidden under the windowsill and the heavy metal shutter rose silently, exposing the night to his view.

  She was out there. Somewhere. This was his city and he would find her.

  If she wasn’t a dream, then she was the one. The one he’d been waiting for his entire life, but had given up hope of ever finding. If she was real, then she was his curse and his salvation. His destiny. His only chance to love. For over five hundred years he had waited for her, and now his wait had finally come to an end.

  For better or worse, his life was irrevocably changed. It no longer belonged to only him. His very life force was now linked forever to hers. It was the curse of his family—the Dalakis curse, passed from father to son throughout the eons of time. Dalakis children were always male and the curse was theirs from birth. They were destined to love only once in their long lifetimes. They did not choose who to love, but rather it was chosen for them by nature or by God—he wasn’t sure which and no longer cared.

  Many members of his family in long times past had given up in despair of ever finding their mate. They’d chosen to face the killing midday sunlight rather than live through the long years without their one true love. Others had done the same after finding and being rejected by their chosen love. Still, some had joined their chosen mates in death after living a human lifetime.

  It took a strong woman, and a rare one, to take the chance of the conversion. To risk dying so that she could be reborn as a true Dalakis bride, a vampire bride. To then live in the night as he must, to survive on blood and be feared and misunderstood. It was not a life most women would willingly choose. And there was no forcing her.

  A Dalakis male’s entire existence revolved around making his woman happy, so he had no option but to accept his mate’s decision. It was hers to make. But that didn’t mean a Dalakis male wouldn’t do everything in his power to persuade her to accept him. And he had many powers. Seduction was but one of them.

  What had seemed like an impossible dream just the day before was now a possibility. His older brother, Cristofor, had claimed his own woman recently. His new sister-in-law, Johanna, was indeed a prize and a credit to the Dalakis family.

  A rare smile crossed his harsh features as he pictured his brother’s bossy little wife trying to manage all of them. She was taking her role of family matriarch very seriously, and if she caught wind of the fact Lucian was on the trail of his own woman, she and Cris would be here in New Orleans within twenty-four hours.

  That, he didn’t want. For one thing, Cris and Johanna were still on their honeymoon. Not that they’d gone anywhere, even though his older brother had offered to take her wherever she desired. No, his new sister-in-law had opted to stay at Dalakis Castle in the Carpathian Mountains and spend her nights exploring her new home—that is, when Cris wasn’t keeping her busy in bed.

  He also preferred to pursue Delight himself without family interference. He had no way of knowing what her life was like or what obstacles they both might face.

  Then there was the fact that he wasn’t completely convinced she was real and not just some manifestation of his overactive imagination. Ever since Johanna had entered Cris’s life, he’d felt the absence of a woman in his own life more keenly. It was lowering to admit he was jealous of his brother. Happy for him, but Lucian wanted what Cristofor had found in his new wife.

  His head jerked up as he detected an intruder in his home, but he quickly relaxed as soon as he realized who it was. He shook his head and gave a rueful laugh. He wouldn’t be able to escape all interference from his close-knit family.

  Lucian sent out a mental command and his bedroom door unlocked, swinging open in welcome as his visitor approached.

  “Are you all right?” his unexpected guest demanded.

  Lucian’s younger brother paused in the doorway, not crossing the threshold without an invitation. It was almost like looking in a mirror. They were much alike in looks, except that Stefan was a little bit taller than he was. They both had the same harsh, Dalakis features and brilliant emerald green Dalakis eyes, but in all other ways they were as different as day and night.

  He was more controlled, urbane, and old-fashioned than his younger brother. Lucian’s home in the French Quarter reflected his sense of style. Decorated tastefully with antiques and items of quality, it had a refined air about it. He liked classical and jazz music, and drove a luxury sedan.

  Stefan owned the house next door to his and it reflected his unique personality. It was filled with every electronic gadget known to mankind, the décor minimal, the rooms outfitted with sturdy, comfortable wood furniture. His brother listened to classic rock and country music and drove a big black pickup truck.

  “I’m fine,” Lucian replied, because he knew his brother had the patience of a saint and would stand there all night waiting for him to answer.

  “You dreamed.” Stefan moved further into the room, coming closer but still giving Lucian his space. It was almost an accusation. His brother seemed on edge, agitated.

  “How did you know?” There was no way anyone should be able to know other than the person he shared the dream with.

  Stefan shrugged his large shoulders, which were covered in a plain white cotton T-shirt. He propped his hands on his jeans-covered hips and cocked his head to one side as he stared at Lucian. “I can’t explain it. I just know you dreamed and that it was important.”

  Lucian ran his fingers through his long hair, pushing it out of his face. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that Delight was real. There was no reason for Stefan to be affected by an ordinary dream. Only something important, extraordinary, would have affected him so.

  “She’s out there.” Turning back to the window, Lucian gazed out over the twinkling lights of the city. He could feel the tension rolling off Stefan in waves, his brother wanting him to continue.

  “What is her name?” Stefan’s words were a reverent whisper when he finally broke the silence between them.

  “Delight Deveraux.” Her name rolled off his tongue easily. He heard Stefan repeat the name under his breath, committing it to memory. “Now I just have to find her.”

  His heart soared even as he cautioned himself not to get ahead of himself. Just because she was out there didn’t mean she’d want anything to do with him. Excitement thrummed through him even as unease filled him. What if he couldn’t find her?

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Lucian closed his eyes and sent a silent thank-you to his brother. They were close, bound together through blood and centuries of living together. He’d never doubted for a second that Stefan would do everything in his power to aid him in his search. There was nothing they would not do for one another.

  He held up his hand to stop Stefan from repeating his question. His brother was growing more impatient with each passing second. “First, I must find her. I may need your help later, but for now there is nothing anyone can do. I must search for her alone.”

  Stefan gave a little laugh and waved a hand at him. “You might want to put on some pants before you get started.”

  Lucian looked down at his naked body, not even trying to hide his growing arousal. Thoughts of Delight had a definite effect on him. “Hmm. You’re probably right,” he conceded.

  “I’ll wait for you downstairs and we’ll go hunting together.” Stefan stalked from the room and walked silently down the stairs to wait.

  Lucian wasn’t surprised. His younger brother had a surprising stubborn streak. He knew he would have to let Stefan help with his search for Delight, at least for a few hours. As much as he hoped to find her quickly, he was under no illusion it would happen. They’d connected easily enough in her dream, but that didn’t mean the same would happen in reality.

  New Orleans was a big city and she could be anywhere within her boundaries. What if she was only visiting? The thought of losing her was like a dagger to his heart. He shook off his unease. It didn’t matter where she was, not as long as he knew she was out there somewhere.

  He would find her no matter how long it took. The one thing he had plenty of was time.

  Impatient to begin his quest, Lucian strode toward the bathroom. The quicker he was showered and dressed, the faster he could take to the night in search of her.

  Chapter Four

  “Why did I agree to stay late?” Delight didn’t expect an answer as she was one of only two staff members left in the restaurant. It was just after two in the morning and everyone else had left hours ago.

  She tossed her pen and clipboard on her boss’s desk and rolled her tired shoulders. She’d been working for almost twenty hours straight and was exhausted. She was more than ready to call it a day and go home to bed.

  As much as she wanted to pack it in, she really didn’t have any other choice but to stay late. She needed the money that working at a fancy restaurant like Etienne’s gave her. Being a bartender in such a swanky place meant decent pay and generous tips if you were good at your job.

  And she prided herself on being one of the best.

  Because she was unassuming in appearance and had a quiet personality, people tended to relax around her. That fact, coupled with her ability to read people, made her a natural at her job. She instinctively knew when people wanted to chat and when they’d rather be left alone. She mixed, poured, and served drinks quickly and efficiently, all the while keeping track of who was drinking what. She had a good memory for details, essential in this kind of work.

  What she didn’t like was the fact that the manager, James Brenner, had a tendency to ogle the female staff and abuse his position of authority. Take tonight for example. She’d been almost out the door when James had decided that they needed a full inventory of the liquor and wine stocks.