A Vampire's Claim (48 page)

“So you’re Danny’s servant-in-training, so to speak. Come over here and let me have a closer look.”

Definitely on purpose.

He’d stood quietly by the door, thinking that was the most unobtrusive location. He wasn’t a coward, by any means, but he had a healthy sense of self-preservation. Nevertheless, there was no mistaking Lady Lyssa had issued it as a command, one she expected to be obeyed. Trying to quell his uneasiness, Dev moved around the chair and came to stand before her. She was petite, and it seemed logical and not too much of a compromise to take a knee before her. As she watched him in that peculiar, still way, again he couldn’t imagine any human spending more than a breath in her company without realizing she wasn’t mortal.

“Nice. You have manners, and can think on your feet, perhaps a little too much. You’re very rough around the edges as of yet. But I’m not surprised at Danny’s taste.”

“I agree,” Alistair observed. “He’s got a style to him. Very . . . appealing.”

“Hmm.” Lyssa touched Dev’s face, the sweep of hair he’d had the rare occasion to brush, settling her hand on his shoulder. It was peculiar to sit still like this, her tracing the bones of his face as intimately as a lover while she studied him like a bug under a microscope.

He’d donned the broadcloth jacket over shirt and slacks again, the clothing Danny had provided him at her Brisbane home. Her gaze coursed over him now, slow, taking an accounting of every length of limb, the broadness of his chest, lingering at his groin in a most unsettling way. “I’ll be interested to see how she lets us play with you tonight. She told me you were fearless. I think she told us that to give us a challenge. Do you agree? Are you fearless, Dev?”

“Depends, love. I—” He about bit through his tongue as her brow lifted and Alistair choked on his wine. “My lady,” he corrected himself hastily, feeling a flush stain across his cheeks. Hell, he didn’t know how to deal with this class of people. “I’m sorry. I meant, it depends, my lady.”

Dev glanced toward Thomas. The monk’s face was mostly impassive, though his gaze flickered, a warning. Bloody hell. Dev jerked his attention back to Lyssa.

“Keep your attention on the vampire who is addressing you,” she rebuked him, confirming his error. “But it’s good for servants to have mentors among our ranks, to help you understand us better. You chose wisely with Thomas.”

Shifting her attention, she nodded toward Nina. “Alistair, let Thomas rub Nina’s feet. She’s been overdoing it in the kitchen again, to make sure the appetizers and sweets your chef has prepared please us.”

“I’d be grateful.” Alistair nodded, then gave Nina a light pat on the bum. “I’ll punish you for that later.” He gave her a warm look that made Nina smile a shy but entirely unconcerned smile, lowering her eyes so her lashes fanned her cheeks.

Thomas moved to comply, kneeling at the woman’s feet to begin a massage of swollen ankles. Lyssa turned her attention back to Dev, and something shifted in those unnatural eyes, something that had tension drawing up from his testicles to his throat like a rubber band that would snap and sting the hell out of him. However, she merely waved him off.

“You may rise and return to the door. She’s coming down the stairs now, and no vampire likes to see her servant at the feet of another female when she enters a room.”

He returned to his position, relieved, as Danny did in fact make her entrance. The one thing about these gatherings he could honestly admit liking was the way she dressed for them. Tonight she wore a black dress with spaghetti straps. The deep-cut neckline was draped, the skirt of the dress so snug it was obvious she wore nothing beneath it. She also wore stilettos that put her eye to eye with Dev as she stopped before him, gave him an assessing glance. The only jewelry she wore was a tiny gold cross on a long chain, giving him another myth about vampires to discard. Simple gold dangles adorned her ear lobes. She didn’t have pierced ears, so they were affixed with a gold cuff high on the curve of her ear, and attached with another cuff a little lower, decorating the entire shell. Her hair was up, and scattered with gold dust, further adorned with a comb that had a porcelain blue bird in it. He thought she looked somewhat like a dark elfin creature from the Underworld.

“You must have an excellent lady’s maid, Danny,” Lyssa observed.

“Thank you, my lady. Actually, this was thanks to the help of one of Alistair’s people.”

You look beautiful.

You look positively edible.
After several days of nothing more provocative than instructions on shipping furniture, she staggered him with a flash of images, goading his cock to instant attention.

Christ, love. You might want to tone it down.

She smiled, moved into the room to take a seat in a wing-backed chair, leaning back and crossing her legs with a show of thigh that Dev sourly noted Alistair openly appreciated. The downside to her distracting fashions—he had to share his enjoyment with other leering buggers.

As the staff brought in wine, tea and appetizers, the three spoke comfortably of things that were occurring in Alistair’s territory, improvements in commerce, Australia’s continued allegiance to Britain versus control of its own governance, the possible visit by Queen Elizabeth and its impact. In some ways, it was little different from the conversations he’d hear at any other gathering of Aussie urbanites, except he was listening to three intelligent vampires who had centuries of experience between them in the cycles of change in governance. At another time, without apprehension of what else the evening might bring, he would have found it interesting.

“Well, I will say the new immigration policy is bringing them into Oz in droves, so we’re finally getting some decent food in this part of the world. My latest cook is from Italy. These appetizers will taunt you to come back for dinner soon, Danny.” Alistair sent an amused look toward her. “Since you insist on staying out in the bush, I’m sure you’re more than ready to see something on a plate other than lizards and kangaroo.”

“Well, we have other offerings, but when you visit, I’ll make sure a bowl of Bogong moths is prepared specially for you,” Danny returned sweetly. “Seriously, I’d love to have you and Nina out once the baby is born. I still can’t believe you’re going to be a father.”

“A frightening thought, for certain.” Alistair cast a fond look down at his reposed servant. “No one was more surprised than I when she conceived.”

“I was,” Lyssa remarked. “I didn’t think you’d leave off your strapping footy boys long enough to dip your wick into a female. Are you sure it’s yours? Your ego has been known to inflate enough to crowd out truth.”

As they bantered, Dev decided there was another conversation going on between Master and servant. For Nina had twined her hand with his on her hip, and was tracing the creases between his fingers in a decidedly stimulated way. He thought of Aapti and Chiyoko again, their obvious enthusiasm to flaunt their sensuality. Was it just a matter of time, experience, as Thomas said? And was it a matter of “the mind doth protest too much,” given that his cock wasn’t protesting at all, but rising to the occasion like a damn cheer-leader, merely contemplating what might happen tonight?

“Nina’s been mine from the beginning.” Alistair defended his honor without rancor. “And even if I couldn’t plumb her mind to the depths of her soul, I would not doubt her.”

Lyssa nodded, studying their linked hands as well. “Then we will guard her carefully, Alistair.”

Alistair’s grip tightened on Nina. “No one will touch her,” he said, a dangerous look crossing his face. “Or our child.”

“They better not,” Lyssa responded. “Or I’ll feel I’ve failed in everything I’ve taught you.”

The dessert was brought out then, a confection of chocolate, cream and strawberries shaped into a star on each plate, and the tense moment passed as Alistair smoothly became the affable host again.

Who would harm the baby, love?

He wasn’t sure Danny would answer him, but he couldn’t not ask, not after that frisson of danger had rippled through the room and he saw worry cross Nina’s delicate features. When Danny’s answer came, he felt an easing of his shoulders from the connection, though her answer itself was far from reassuring.

No one would harm the baby. But there are vampires who would try to pass it off as their own if they could take the
mother before she gives birth. They would kill Nina the moment the child was born, because she would be only a liability
to them then and they would want the baby to blood-bond with them.

Alistair had moved their intertwined hands down to cup over Nina’s belly, a reassurance to the mother-to-be. Dev felt a surge of protective anger himself.
Lady Lyssa might have waited until Nina wasn’t in the room.

No. It may irritate him, but Nina needs to be as alert as he is. He knows that. He’s just being a typically overprotective
male.
He heard the smile in her voice, and again, it gave him a shot of warmth.
Nina may seem fragile, but she is quite capable.

However, it’s another reason Lyssa is here. She’ll provide additional protection until the baby is born next month.

Alistair spoke then. “Lady Lyssa, as our guest of honor, would you choose the evening’s entertainment, while we enjoy our dessert?”

And just like that, Dev’s warm feeling disappeared, swept away by anxiety.

20

“
T
HOUGH of course,” Alistair continued, “I beg the indulgence of a protective father-to-be and prohibit Nina from anything too exerting. With your monk enjoying a similar status, though no one in the vampire world but you understands why”—he apparently had the privilege of teasing his sire—“we can involve the house staff, though regrettably they’re not as well versed in such matters.”

“I like being a woman of mystery.” Lyssa took a small bite, her eyes closed as she sampled the dessert. “Marvelous, Alistair. My compliments to the chef.” Then she opened her eyes, turned them to Devlin. “I don’t think we’ll need any of the household staff. I’d like to see how Devlin handles pain at the hands of his Mistress. See if he will submit to it.”

Danny had lifted her fork with a bite of the chocolate star and was inhaling it, her delicate nostrils flared. As far as Dev could tell, the suggestion didn’t cause even a hitch to her movement. “Chocolate liqueur . . . A very nice touch.” She placed the morsel in her mouth, savoring before performing a comfortable single swallow, all her vampire constitution would accept of human food, that one tantalizing taste.

“Dev,” she said at last. “Please go to the room Alistair provided and bring me your whip and your hunting knife. When you retrieve them, strip off all your clothes and leave them in the room.”

A pair of household staff entered as if summoned by Alistair, to shift a decorative silk screen panel, revealing a spoked wheel hung parallel to the floor from a large hook embedded in the ceiling beam. From the sections of the wheel hung a series of chains.

Can you submit to me, bushman?

As she turned her head farther, he locked gazes with her. The soft wetness of her lips, her long golden lashes, even the porcelain trifle in her hair, all spoke of a beautiful, desirable woman. Most men would say they’d do anything for the touch of such a creature, the privilege of her bed. But taking that step with this one was more than an empty declaration.

At the dinner with Ruskin and Ian, she’d had him do something he’d like to do anyway. Even pulling the other two women into it had fallen in line with male fantasy. Uncomfortable and over the top, it had still been doable.

What are you willing to do for me, Dev? Be for me? You come back, you’ll be forced to face that question. Maybe it’s best
if neither of us ever know the answer. If you leave, before or after, I will not suffer consequences from this company as I
would have with Ruskin or Ian.

He gave her a bow, lifting his head to meet her eyes. “I will return, my lady.”

Maybe he was the only one who saw the faint tremor that went through her hand, resting on her thigh. If he hadn’t seen it, perhaps he would have chosen differently, but he didn’t think so. Thomas was right. There was a moment when you accepted things, or walked away.

Not only did he suspect whatever would happen in the next few hours was going to answer that question, he believed she’d planned for it to be brought to a head tonight. He understood Danny’s quiet for the past few days better now. His lady had been thinking. She was tired of waiting. She wanted it settled. Whatever happened, while he was sure that was probably for the best, he couldn’t deny the panicked feeling roiling in his gut, his surprise that she hadn’t given him any warning, any time to prepare for this.

He perhaps could handle what was about to happen in this room, but could he handle walking away, if that
was
the answer?

When he returned, stripped as she’d requested and carrying the whip and knife, her expression was unreadable, her mind closed.

That was unsettling, particularly since he was still recovering from the trauma of stepping out of his room in the altogether and running right into a maid coming down the hall with a stack of towels. That stack was the only thing that averted a pleasant collision between her generous bare breasts and his chest. She’d given a startled yelp and blushed, but when he snagged the top towel, which turned out to be a hand towel, he’d heard her whisper to another maid, “I don’t think that’s going to be big enough,” as they went giggling on down the hall.

He didn’t dare look back to see if they were ogling his arse, because he was fairly certain they were. Well, hell. He’d swum this way with Thomas, had stripped down in the army and in the Outback for years in front of the eyes of God and everyone else. And of course, Danny had told him things about vampires who refused to let their servants wear clothes at all when they were in the privacy of their properties. If it was expected behavior, like the attire of Alistair’s house staff, why should he be embarrassed?

So he’d pushed down his discomfort and made it back to the solarium, though he did use the towel, tossing it away before he turned the corner and stepped into the room.