Christine Feehan
 Dark Magic
Dark Carpathians novel # 4
Gregori Daratrazanoff

They were masters of the darkness, searching through eternity for a mistress of the light...WOULD SHE FIND MAGIC Young Savannah Dubrinsky was a mistress of illusion, a world-famous magician capable of mesmerizing millions. But there was one Gregori, the Dark One--who held her in terrifying thrall. Whose cold silver eyes and heated sensuality sent shivers of danger, of desire, down her slender spine. With a dark magic all his own, Gregori--the implacable hunter, the legendary healer, the most powerful of Carpathian males--whispered in Savannah's mind that he was her destiny. That she had been born to save his immortal soul. And now, here in New Orleans, the hour had finally come to claim her. To make her completely his. In a ritual as old as time . . . and as inescapable as eternity.
 

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(...) "I'm sorry Gregori" she whispered hopelessly. "I can't be what you want. I will choose to face the dawn."
His fingers brushed her face with incredible gentleness "You have no idea what I want from you". His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking the satin skin over the pulse beating so frantically in her throat. "You know I cannot allow such a choice, ma petite. We can walk through your fears. Come inside with me" His mind was invading hers, a warm, sweet seduction. His eyes, so pale and cold, heated to a flowing mercury that seemed to burn into her mind, threatening her very will.
Savannah's fingers dug into the railing as she felt herself drowning in hot liquid. "Stop it, Gregori!" she cried sharply, determined to break his mental hold. It was sweet torment, rushing heat, seduction so dangerous that she flung herself toward the entrance of the house to flee his dark power over her. Gregori's arm stopped her headlong flight. His mouth moved against her ear. His body, aggressively male, hard, and ferociously aroused, brushed hers.
Say it, Savannah. Say the words. Even the whisper in her mind was black velvet. His mouth, perfect and sensuous, so hot and moist, wandered down to her throat. The reality of his flesh was even more erotic than his mental seduction. His teeth grazed her skin lightly. His body clenched, and she could feel the monster in him awaken, hungry, burning with need - no gentle, thinking lover but a fully aroused Carpathian male. The words he commanded her to say nearly strangled in her throat and came out so low, it was impossible to tell whether they were spoken aloud or were merely an echo in her mind. "I come to you of my free will" (...)