Blood Knot (9 page)

But Nial knew far better than her how to demand and enjoy luxury travel even in a strained economy. Once they passed through the security barriers and into the first class lounge, they never had to pick up their luggage again.

They checked in and went through customs formalities in the lounge, and while they were waiting for their flight, Winter showered and changed. She got to enjoy an evening meal at the complimentary buffet served in the lounge, afterwards, too.

As she sat down at the elegantly laid table to eat, Nial pulled up the chair next to her and sat down.

“
You have news?” she asked, picking up her fork.

“
A man fitting Sebastian’s description is in Ningaloo. Your memory served us well.” He kissed her temple, making her catch her breath. “But please eat. You must be hungry.”

“
You don’t mind?”

He shook his head, his hand settling on her thigh. “I usually resent it, but you make eating look like such a sensual feast, last time I shifted the conversation to a demonstration of my seduction skills just so I could get my hands and mouth on you.”

From his hand on her thigh she could tell he wasn’t lying. His fingertips moved gently, stroking the flesh of her thigh below the hem of her skirt.

“
Now you’ve made me self-conscious about eating,” she complained, as her body rippled under his touch.

“
Good,” he said with a smile. He drew a lazy circle on her thigh with his forefinger. “Is this skirt for my benefit or do you always dress so formally for flying?”

Winter glanced down at the silk tights and pleated skirt. “I learned a long time ago that trousers are a huge mistake for long haul flights. And I refuse to wear gym pants that bunch up around the crotch and smell abominably after twelve hours. These clothes are wrinkle proof and climate adjustable. I can remove and add layers as I need to, and they look presentable no matter how long I wear them.”

“
Then the tights cannot be tights…” Nial murmured, his fingers pausing in their circling.

“
No,” she said with a smile. “They’re stockings, Nial.”

“
Ah…” he breathed. “Be still, my heart.” And contrariwise, his heart thudded heavily. His fingers crept higher towards the hem of her skirt.

“
I really do need to eat,” she warned him, lifting another forkful of salad.

“
I’ll behave. For now,” he promised, his fingers flirting with the hem of her skirt.

But the teasing flickering of his fingers was having an effect on her anyway. She tried to ignore the rising beat of need in her and finish her meal, but Nial’s silent appraisal and his stroking fingers made that impossible.

She put her fork down, her plate unfinished, defeated.

“
Sip the wine,” he encouraged her. “Let me smell it.”

“
You can lift the glass and sniff for yourself.”

“
But I want to watch you do it. Then it’s not simply teasing.”

She lifted the glass of ruby red wine and inhaled the bouquet. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “It smells very good.” She tipped the glass and drank a mouthful and let it slide down her throat. “Gorgeous,” she declared as the full extent of the excellent wine registered on her tongue.

Nial kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and collecting the residue of the wine. She felt his pleasure and arousal mingle and it reinforced her own.

“
Nial,” she breathed. “You are only teasing me. It will make the flight unbearable if you leave me in such a state.”

He leaned back just far enough to look at her. “Who said anything about leaving you this way?” His hand smoothed its way down her thigh to her knee. “Silk stockings with lace tops. You know how to travel in style, I’ll give you that. Now I’ll show you how to travel in luxury.” He gave a small smile. “As much luxury as is left in this day and age.”

They were called for their flight barely ten minutes later and Winter caught her first hint of what Nial meant by ‘luxury’. They were shown to adjoining suites on the top deck of the 747, by a hostess in the dun colored uniform and the bright white head scarf. She introduced herself as Hanifa and their personal assistant for the first leg of the flight to Hong Kong. Hanifa pulled aside the dividing wall between the suites, turning them into a single large suite, and explained all the controls for the digital and entertainment equipment. She glanced at her watch. “I understand that you arrived in Los Angeles from Montana, so it is past midnight by your personal time. I am guessing you will want to sleep very soon. Would you like some sort of night cap, and the seats arranged into beds?”

Winter took a deep breath and tried to hide the silly grin spreading across her face. “That would be lovely,” she said. She could see Nial’s smile from the corner of her eye and fought the need to either look at him or ram her elbow into his side. She could almost hear his silent “I told you so.”

Her whole body seemed to tighten and pulse with possibilities.

* * * * *

They served Winter a decaffeinated coffee laced with brandy at the bar while their suites were prepared for sleep. Like he had in her basement, Nial sat on the bar stool and stretched out his legs. He seemed to be getting huge amounts of amusement out of her unfamiliarity with this level of first class travel and her enjoyment of it.

When one of the other businessmen introduced himself to Nial, Nial shook his hand and used the name on the passport he was travelling on and Winter could actually see the shield drop down behind his eyes. She put her coffee cup down, some of her enjoyment evaporating, and pushed her thigh up against Nial’s leg to get a reading from him.

He was wary. Guarded.

At her touch, he picked up her hand and drew her between his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist as he continued the polite conversation about the Red Sox and the Yankees. Then, in a slight pause, he introduced her, using the name on the passport she had used to check in with.

“
My wife,” he added casually.

Winter was fully into role playing, keeping names straight, facts aligned and assessing the man in front of her, or she would have jumped, startled. Unobtrusively, she slid her bare left hand out of sight behind her.

“
Different names?” the man said, puzzled.
Pete
, she reminded herself.
His name is Pete
.

“
Professional necessity,” she said smoothly. “I have thousands of clients. It would have confused them all if I changed names.”

“
Besides, we’re still on our honeymoon and haven’t got around to sorting all the details out yet.” Nial nuzzled her neck from behind and she did jump this time, for as his lips seared an imprint against the nape of her neck, a ring slid onto the appropriate finger of her left hand and was pushed into place.

Winter laughed, venting her surprise that way and reached for her coffee cup with her left hand. There was a gold ring on her ring finger. An Irish Claddagh ring, with the crown sitting toward her hand. It was very slightly too big, but not enough to look odd.

Nial must have been carrying it with him somehow. He hadn’t been wearing it even on his smallest fingers.

Pete laughed, too. “Then I guess I’m interrupting the wedding night, huh?” He winked. “Helluva way to celebrate, though. Good hotel would’ve been nicer.”

“
I don’t know…the little beach and palm tree we’ll spend the next ten nights beneath will do very nicely,” Winter said judiciously.

Pete roared with laughter, slapping his thigh.

“
Although, you do need to be careful of all that sun on that tattoo on your—” Nial began and stopped. He glanced at Pete. “Well, you know where,” he finished, with a smile that was both secretive, seductive and intimate all at once.

Pete almost drooled as he picked up his scotch glass. “I guess I don’t wanna know,” he said.

Winter gave a small laugh. “I just got it for the wedding,” she explained. “So I have to be careful for a while. It has black roses and says ‘I love Josh, horn dog and con artist’.” Josh was the name on Nial’s passport. She smiled winningly at Nial. “Doesn’t it, honey?”

Pete choked on his scotch and thumped his chest.

There was a light in Nial’s eyes that told her he was enjoying this immensely. He stroked his crooked finger under her chin. “That’s a joke you’re going to have to live with forever, you know.”

“
Yes, but which half of it is the joke?” she teased back.

“
Yep, you two are definitely in love,” Pete said. “So the other half must be the joke.”

Winter’s coffee cup jerked and the contents splashed all over the bar.

“
Oh dear!” the hostess behind the bar said, with her strong Arabic accent. She leaned over and began mopping up black coffee with a cloth in hurried, expert movements. The fuss of cleaning up brandy-smelling coffee stole the attention away from her and Winter was deeply relieved because for several seconds she could not have covered up properly to save her life.

They looked like a couple in love? They
really
looked like a couple in love?

By the time the coffee had been cleaned up and the bar restored to normal, Winter’s pulse had also returned to something close to standard. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Nial, though. She knew he would be studying her with more amusement in his expression and a knowing light in his eyes. He was a master at human psychology—he had to be, to be able to scam people so well. He would have known the coffee didn’t leap out of her hand at that ill-timed moment all by itself.

Winter picked up Nial’s hands from around her waist and stepped out from between his legs. “I’m heading back,” she said and kissed his cheek, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t be too long, huh?” She smiled at Pete. “My husband tends to stay up all hours of the night. Vampire hours, you know? Nice to meet you.”

She slipped between the first class suites to theirs, knowing that Nial would not be far behind.

WINTER KICKED OFF her shoes and climbed onto the bed that had been assembled while she was gone. The lighting had been lowered and pillows plumped and placed for them both. Soft music played on the entertainment screen, masking the constant thrumming of the aircraft.

It was cozy and would definitely be private once the doors were shut.

“
Vampire hours, hmmm?” Nial murmured. “Very cute.”

She looked up from studying the entertainment controls, startled. “You sneaked up on me deliberately,” she accused. He stood on the other side of the double suite, a hand on either side of the curved walls.

“
Of course,” he said. “I wanted to see what you were doing. I admit I’m somewhat disappointed. I thought you might be lying across the beds, waiting for me.”

She laughed. “You’re an optimist.”

“
I have fantasies,” he corrected gravely.

Winter felt her cheeks heat. He seemed to be able to do that to her far too easily. “You enjoyed that,” she admonished him.

“
Which? Making you blush, or the by-play at the bar?”

“
Both,” she said simply. “A professional would have been too focused to enjoy himself.”

Nial’s smile faded. “I’ve never considered myself a professional,” he replied. “I did it from necessity and made myself good at it because I wanted to survive. Life is ugly enough at the baseline without adding to the seriousness. You should be adding joy wherever you can, Winter. Not the other way around. Didn’t Serbia teach you that?”

She sat up on her knees. “Define joy for me,” she demanded.

Nial’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want a dictionary definition or a personal interpretation?”

She hissed her impatience at him. “How old were you when you became a vampire, Nial?”

Nial glanced along the corridor, dropped off his shoes, then eased himself onto his side of the bed and shut the door on his side of the suite. It enclosed them in their own little world. Then he surprised her by crossing his legs and threading his fingers together. He didn’t reach for her or languidly recline. He was treating the question seriously.

“
I was twenty-eight, as near as I can calculate,” he told her. “Age was not a critical matter in my day,” he added. “And calendars and years were not precise.”

“
But you were taken from your family and put into slavery when you were ten, you said.”

He drew a breath. She saw his shoulders lift. “Yes,” he said simply.

“
While you were a slave, did you have friends amongst the other slaves?”

His eyes narrowed again. “Slavery didn’t work like that. I was sold to a household after my capture and put to work there. But I had a friend in the house, one of owner’s sons, and there were other slaves in other households nearby.”

Winter nodded. “You had a place, then.”

Nial’s expression became a fully-fledged frown. “For the way things worked back then, yes. I had a place. I didn’t particularly care for it, once I understood where I stood in the scheme of things. But I had my place.”

“
I didn’t,” Winter replied. “Not once. Not ever. You at least had twenty-eight years of being human and being accepted, Nial. I’ve never had that, not even from my family.” She filled her lungs and held them for a moment against the swell of self-pity, before letting herself go on.