I mentioned a few weeks ago, Dominic was first introduced in HUNTERS: RAFE & SHEILA…
Here’s the scene.
Dominic had been the first man, since Rafe, whose touch hadn’t left her cold. There had been a few others she’d considered, but their touches had made her skin crawl.
His resemblance to Rafe was unmistakable. Physically, at least.
But beyond that… Dominic was a romantic. Dominic treated her like a person, not just a fuck toy.
He was a ladies’ man and he appreciated her, didn’t want just a quick fuck from her whenever he felt horny. Oh, she knew he wanted sex. Hell, he was a guy. But he bothered to spend time with her…had actually wanted to.
Rafe couldn’t have cared less once his dick slid out of her.
With a tremendous act of will, she shoved Rafe’s face from her mind as she collapsed against Dom’s broad chest, the fingers of one hand absently caressing the gold hoop that ran through one nipple. He’d switched it to gold. She had shied away in instinctive fear when she’d seen it, and lied that she was allergic to silver. Well, not really a lie—silver was definitely not good for her health.
He had removed the hoop that night, and the next night there was a gold one there instead. She had greatly enjoyed tugging on that tiny piece of metal with her teeth.
“Damn—that was amazing,” Dom murmured, his voice thick, sluggish. She kept the move casual as she rested her hand on his heart. She knew she hadn’t taken too much, but still…the paranoia was always there.
He was a wonderful guy. He didn’t deserve the life of a vampire.
She stroked her hand down his chest once she had reassured herself that he was fine. Just a little woozy.
“Mmmm…tell me. Go to sleep, baby. You had a long day,” she whispered, cuddling in against him as close as she could.
“You be here when I wake up, sugar?”
She hedged. “I don’t know, Dom. Depends on how late you sleep,” she said, already knowing she’d be gone in a few hours. Couldn’t take that chance.
But he was already asleep, the deep, steady sighs of breath escaping him as he shifted slightly on the pillow.
As she sat up, she felt it.
The anger in the air.
That was too tepid a word for what she was sensing. A deep, burning rage that battered at her mind until an artificial red seeped in—run off from his rage.
Her belly pitched and she felt the fangs that had slid back into their sheaths drive back out with a speed that startled her. Danger…
Rising from the bed, she tossed the heavy banner of her golden curls behind her shoulder. Damn it. Something from her world had found her here, with her lover, and it would put him in danger.
Over my dead body, she thought furiously, her eyes flying around the room, searching for the intruder she sensed, but couldn’t see.
“Actually, Belle, I’d rather it be his,” a low, furious voice whispered.
She spun around and saw Rafe standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at Dom with a rage so great that his eyes burned red with it. He gripped his sword in one hand, the other stroked idly up and down the edge as he stared at Dominic.
Sheila felt the fear that had flooded her dissipating as she studied Rafe. “Oh, it’s just you,” she said, her tone bored. Flicking her eyes to his blade, she smirked a little. “I see you still carry around your security blanket.”