Phoenix Cahill is experiencing the Awakening, transforming from an asexual tantric vampire nestling to an adult who feeds on the orgasmic energy of her partners. Though any man will do, the only one she craves is her mysterious new neighbor. But feeding from the same man too many times could kill him, and Phoenix won’t be satisfied by just one night....
Getting close to Phoenix was supposed to be only part of vampire enforcer Ivar LeBlanc’s mission to find her father and bring him to justice. But the plan becomes complicated when he rescues Phoenix from an attack—and gives in to his own desire for her. Now he must choose between the woman he loves and the clan lord to whom he owes his life....
Phoenix Burning
Patti O’Shea
Dear Reader,
The idea for Phoenix Burning came in a dream, but I didn’t know I’d write it until the characters arrived. Ivar, the hero, did most of the talking. He let me know that my original vision of him as an assassin was wrong. The fact that he was so adamant about this told me there was something in his past that I needed to know. I was right.
My heroine remained quiet and I’ve learned to be suspicious when this happens. Characters who don’t share much are the ones who drop bombshells. And sure enough, Phoenix did this, too. It turned out that she wasn’t human like I believed, but a different kind of vampire, and what she is shaped the entire story.
I hope you enjoy my not-a-normal-vampire heroine and her vampire enforcer-not-assassin hero. I love to hear from my readers. You can contact me through my website, www.pattioshea.com.
Best wishes,
Patti O’Shea
Dedication
For my writing buddies—Crystal Jordan, Dayna Hart, and Trish McCallan. As always, thank you.
Contents
Chapter One
The air in the apartment felt heavy, the pressure enough to keep her skin sensitized. Phoenix pressed her legs tightly together, trying to deny the arousal. Shaking her head to clear it, she forced herself to focus on the laptop screen. The cursor on the blank page flashed in time with the throb between her legs. Putting her fingers on the keyboard, she tried to find the zone, the place where there was nothing but her and the story. Instead of words, though, there was only heat and the need for release.
Desperate to distract herself, Phoenix searched for something, anything, to get her mind off sex. Her gaze landed on the sheet of paper that had been shoved under her door a day or two ago. A reminder from the apartment building’s management to pick up mail more often. It had been at least a week since she’d opened her box.
Phoenix grabbed her keys from the table as she got to her feet. She was halfway to her door before she stopped and checked what she was wearing—a pair of loose yoga pants that rode low on her hips and a black tank that left her midriff bare. Good enough.
She took the stairs two at a time, and as soon as she reached the bottom, headed left into the vestibule where the bank of metal mailboxes was built into the wall. She stopped short as soon as she saw him, but it wasn’t quickly enough. Less than a foot separated her from the guy and Phoenix had no desire to move.
His back was to her, his head bent as he sorted through his mail, but he didn’t need to turn for her to identify him. There was only one man in this apartment complex whose mere presence left her buzzing with desire. Her next-door neighbor.
She took the opportunity to gawk at him while he was oblivious to her presence. His brown hair was cut short, leaving his nape exposed and Phoenix curled her fingers to stop herself from tracing that bare skin. His navy T-shirt was pulled taut across his broad shoulders and his jeans were faded enough to mold his gorgeous ass. The urge to caress him had her taking a step closer before she stopped herself. It had been drilled into her head not to touch without an invitation and telling herself he wouldn’t mind wasn’t the same thing as consent.
Without warning, he straightened, and before she could move aside, he pivoted and walked into her. Phoenix staggered, not only from the impact, but also from the feel of his hard muscled body pressing against hers. The mail hit the floor and his arms went around her, helping her keep her physical balance, but knocking her control askew. Her nipples peaked and she shimmied, rubbing her breasts against his chest.
His grip tightened, stilling her. There was heat in his eyes, but there was reserve as well, and though he appeared reluctant, he put her away from him and stepped back. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”
Phoenix had to clear her throat in order to speak. “Not a problem,” she assured him. She thought about apologizing herself, but didn’t. What would she say? Sorry, I was so busy trying not to run my hand over your ass that I didn’t realize you were done looking at your mail?
He nodded once and crouched down to retrieve his mail. Phoenix found her gaze zeroing in on his butt again, and shaking her head, leaned over to help him before she forgot about all the rules she’d been raised to follow.
There were a couple of letters against the opposite wall and she scooped them up. A paper electric bill? Unable to contain her curiosity, she checked the addressee. Ivar LeBlanc. Unusual name. He held out his hand and she passed the bill and the junk mail over to him.
“Thanks,” he said and strolled out of the vestibule, leaving her standing there.
Phoenix sighed and tried to convince herself it was a good thing that he wasn’t interested in hanging around with her.
She was still trying to persuade herself of this right up until the minute she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Warm water sluiced over her body and