Desire After Dark (20 page)

Sitting there, she glanced around the room. She was in a castle, a real castle, with a vampire. It was exciting and a little scary and she wouldn't have missed it for the world.

It took only a few minutes to clean up the kitchen and then she went back upstairs and into the back parlor.

Antonio was already there, waiting for her.

“That was quick,” she remarked.

He nodded, then gestured for her to join him.

The overstuffed chair was easily big enough for the two of them and she found it was quite cozy, sitting there with his arm draped around her shoulders, her thigh pressed intimately against his.

“What did you do today?” he asked, “besides go to the movies?”

“Well, I drove your Corvette. It was almost like flying! It's a great car.”

“If you like it, it is yours, although you may want to drive the Jaguar before you decide.”

“You're going to give me one of your cars, just like that?”

“Of course.”

“But—”

He put a finger over her lips. “It pleases me to do so, my sweet. Pick whichever one you wish. I have no particular attachment to any of them.”

She kissed the tip of his finger. “That's very generous of you. Can I ask you something?”

“You may ask me anything,” he said, grinning faintly. “Though I do not promise to answer.”

“I saw a coffin in the basement. Is it yours?”

He nodded, his expression grim. “It is the one I was buried in after I was turned.”

Vicki grimaced as she imagined him lying inside, dead but not dead.

“I bought a new one some years ago.”

“Oh,” she said, trying not to look horrified. “How nice.”

“Shall I describe it to you?”

“No, that's all right.”

“It is quite comfortable.” His gaze moved to her throat. “And big enough for two.”

“Please, can't we talk about something else?”

“Shall I tell you how beautiful you are? Or how much it pleases me to have you here, in my home? Shall I tell you that I dream of you when I am at my rest? Shall I tell you of what I dream?”

His voice was like rich black velvet sliding over her skin, warming her in ways and in places she had never felt before. “You dream of me?”

He nodded, his eyes hot as his gaze moved over her face to the pulse beating in her throat.

“Is that what you dream of?” she asked. “Biting me?”

“Yes, but it is so much more than that.”

She had to agree with him there. His bite had been like nothing she had ever experienced in her life. It still astonished her that it hadn't repelled her; indeed, if she was honest with herself, she would admit that she wanted him to do it again.

And he knew it. She could see it in the way he was looking at her, as if he was just waiting for her to ask. But she couldn't. It wasn't natural to want such a thing.

“It is natural for my kind,” he said quietly. “It is natural for me.”

“You're reading my mind, aren't you?” she accused indignantly.

“I cannot help it. Your thoughts come to me clearly, especially when you are angry or frightened.” His gaze lingered on her lips. “Or when you are aroused.”

His words sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.

“One taste, my sweet? Would you refuse me one taste?”

“You've already had one.”

“Would you deny me another?”

“Is that why you brought me here? For dessert?”

He laughed softly. “No, but it is a tempting idea.”

She glared at him. “That's not funny!”

“One taste?” he entreated. “One sip? A few drops?”

“I don't know…”

“What is it that you crave above all else?” he asked.

“Chocolate,” she replied quickly. “Rich, dark chocolate.”

“How do you feel when you have not had it for several days?”

“I get cranky.” She'd had a candy bar in the show that afternoon and stopped at a convenience store to buy several more on the way home.

He nodded. “For me, your blood is like rich, dark chocolate. No one else satisfies me as you do. No one ever will.”

When he put it like that, how could she refuse?

“Just a little, you promise?”

With a nod, he drew her onto his lap. He teased her lips, each kiss growing longer and deeper until she was lost in a world of sensual pleasure. The room grew darker as night dropped her cloak across the land, increasing the sense of intimacy between them.

He kissed her again, his lips sliding down her neck. He licked the pulse in the hollow of her throat, then kissed his way to the soft, sensitive skin behind her earlobe.

She was breathless with wanting when she felt the sting of his fangs, followed by a rush of sensual pleasure. She moaned softly, one hand cupping the back of his head to hold him in place.

He made a strangled sound. His hands curled over her shoulders as the hunger reacted to her response.

The sound of her heartbeat filled his ears, growing faster.

With a low groan, he drew back and turned his head away lest she see the hellish glow in his eyes. Deep inside his mind, the hunger urged him to take her, both body and blood, and satisfy all his needs. It was tempting, so tempting. Her taste lingered on his tongue, his nostrils filled with the scent of her, warm and womanly and ripe for the taking…

She looked up at him, her expression slightly dazed, her lips swollen and slightly parted. “Antonio, don't stop.”

He had no wish to do so, but he dared take no more.

Moving her off his lap onto the chair, he went downstairs to the kitchen and filled a glass with orange juice. He stood there a moment, breathing heavily while he fought to restrain both his hunger and his desire.

When both were again under control, he returned to the parlor.

“Here.” He handed her the glass. “Drink this.”

She did as he asked, remembering that the Red Cross always gave her orange juice after she donated blood, too. She had a sudden urge to laugh.

“Vicki Cavendish,” she murmured, “vampire blood bank.”

“Victoria, you must never think of yourself like that!”

“Sorry,” she said with a lopsided grin. “I may go back to the Red Cross. They always give me cookies with my orange juice.”

Antonio stared down at her, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Instead, he lifted her into his arms and sat down. “Finish your juice, my sweet one, and the next time I ask you to indulge me, tell me no.”

“Next time,” she murmured, and fell asleep in his arms.

He caught the glass before it fell to the floor. For her own good, there could not be a next time.

Dimitri Falco prowled the perimeter of the castle, his anger growing with every step. She was here. Her blood called to him as a Siren called a sailor to the sea. And he would have her. In spite of that thieving bastard, Battista, in spite of that accursed vampire hunter, he would have her!

But first he would have to dispose of Battista.

How best to do it? That was the question. It would have to be something slow and painful. Pondering the possibilities made him smile with anticipation.

They thought they were safe, the two of them locked inside the castle. It pleased him to let them think so, for now.

For the second time in as many days, Vicki woke in bed with no recollection of how she'd gotten there. She lifted a hand to her neck. Little frissons of heat warmed her palm when she touched the place where Antonio's mouth had been. It puzzled her that something that sounded so repulsive could bring such pleasure.

Lying in bed, she wondered how things were going at the diner, how Duncan and Bobbie Sue were getting along, if Mrs. Heath had started making pumpkin pies and cakes for the fall social held at the church each year, if there had been any more murders. Though she had been in the castle only a couple of days, it seemed as though she had been cut off from the world.

A sudden rush of cool air had her sitting up and looking around to see if there was a window open. Seeing nothing amiss, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She lifted a hand to her neck, her fingertips exploring the stitches. No doubt she would have a nasty scar.

After dressing in a pair of jeans and a sweater, she went downstairs for a bowl of cereal. Sitting at the table in the kitchen, she again felt a sudden chill in the air. Was Antonio playing tricks on her? But no, he was resting in some secret hideaway.

Frowning, she washed her dishes and went upstairs.

And the chill followed behind her.

At the top of the stairs, she whirled around, her gaze darting right and left as the chill grew stronger. She let out a shriek as what felt like a cold hand touched her cheek.

A peal of merry laughter filled the air and then, to Vicki's astonishment, the ethereal figure of a tall, slender woman in an old-fashioned peach-colored gown appeared before her.

“Good morrow,” said the woman.

Vicki blinked and blinked again. It was Antonio's resident ghost, she was sure of it. “Lady Kathryn,” she murmured.

“You've heard of me!” The ghost clapped her hands in delight. Vicki noticed that her feet didn't touch the ground.

“Yes.”

“Welcome to my humble home,” Lady Kathryn said. “It is so wonderful to have another woman in residence. Please, do come into the parlor and sit down so that we can have a nice, long chat.”

With a nod, Vicki followed the ghost into the front parlor and sat on the sofa.

Lady Kathryn perched on the chair, her back perfectly straight, her hands folded in her lap. “What brings you to the castle? Did that handsome creature, Battista, invite you?”

“Yes,” Vicki said.

“Is he not the most charming man you have ever met?” Lady Kathryn asked, a dreamy look in her eye. “He is so tall and so handsome.”

Vicki nodded, bemused that a ghost would still be interested in such things.

“Come now,” Lady Kathryn said, “you must tell me all about yourself. Who are your people and where do you come from?”

“I'm from a little town called Pear Blossom Creek. My family is from Kentucky.”

“Is that in the Colonies?”

“No,” Vicki replied with a grin.

“'Tis quite bold of you to come here without a chaperone,” Lady Kathryn remarked. “Are you and Antonio betrothed?”

“No, we're just…” Vicki paused. Just what? Friends? No, they were certainly more than friends. Friends didn't drink your blood! Not just friends, not quite lovers.

Lady Kathryn nodded. “I see,” she said, her dark eyes smiling. “I had a liaison like that before I married Lord Dunsmere. It was quite satisfying. Indeed, I might have married Thomas had his family not been so poor and my father not so insistent that I marry Dunsmere. Not that Dunsmere was a bad man, you understand, but…” She lifted one hand in an elegant gesture. “He was rather older than I was and quite boring. Both in bed and out.”

Vicki burst out laughing, then quickly covered her mouth.

Lady Kathryn laughed, as well. “I know, 'tis quite wicked of me to speak so of the dead, but…” She shrugged. “I feel I can be honest with you. And speaking of being honest…” She leaned forward, her expression suddenly sober. “You do know that Antonio is, how shall I say this, different from other men?”

“Yes, I know.”

Lady Kathryn reached forward and patted Vicki's hand. Her touch was cool but intangible. “I am so glad you are here. The poor man has been quite lonely these past few hundred years.”

Vicki shook her head. For a few minutes, she had almost forgotten that she was talking to a ghost, or that there was anything unusual about Antonio. But talk of a few hundred years brought her swiftly back to reality. She laughed inwardly. Reality, indeed. Everything that had happened since the night Antonio first entered the diner seemed like some kind of fever-induced dream.

“Has he shown you the house?” Lady Kathryn asked. “It has been in my late husband's family for generations.”

“Yes, Antonio gave me a tour. It's a fabulous place.” Vicki wanted to ask if there were any other ghosts haunting the castle, but she was afraid she might offend Lady Kathryn, and surely if there were, Antonio would have mentioned it.

“Thank you.” Lady Kathryn smiled, pleased, and then grew serious once more. “I saw a strange man wandering the grounds late last night. Are you expecting visitors?”

Vicki shook her head. “No.”

“I do not recall seeing him in the area before. He had the most peculiar eyes.”

Fear jolted down Vicki's spine, making it suddenly hard to breathe. “Peculiar?”

“Yes, they were yellow, almost like a cat's eyes. Very strange.” Lady Kathryn frowned. “Is something amiss? You look quite pale.”

Vicki took several deep breaths. She felt pale. And frightened. Only last night she had asked Antonio if Falco could have followed them. Now she knew that he had.

 

She was fixing dinner when Antonio appeared in the kitchen. She felt a sudden rush of heat warm her cheeks when she turned and saw him standing there. His gaze met hers and her mind flooded with images of being in his arms, of his mouth on hers. And suddenly it wasn't the chicken baking in the oven she was hungry for, but the feel of his arms around her, his mouth crushing hers, his voice whispering in her ear.

“Ah, my sweet one,” he murmured. “For me it is the same.”

“Then why are you standing way over there?”

He lifted one brow, smiled a smug masculine smile when she pointed one finger at him and beckoned him to come to her.

He closed the distance between them in two strides and drew her into his arms. Lowering his head, he branded her lips with his.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight as he deepened the kiss, his mouth scorching hers, his tongue a flame that burned every other thought from her mind.

His hands moved over her back, slid down to cup her buttocks, drawing her more firmly against him, letting her feel the heat of his arousal.

She moaned, a raw animal-like cry of need, as she pressed herself against him, wanting to be closer, closer. Her hand delved under his shirt, her nails raking the cool skin of his back.

He breathed her name as he rained kisses on her face, her neck, the hollow of her throat. He might have taken her there, on the kitchen table, if a sudden rush of cool air hadn't filled the room, followed by a peal of merry laughter.

“Really, Antonio,” Lady Kathryn said, “can you not wait until you have her under the sheets?”

Cheeks hot with embarrassment, Vicki looked over Antonio's shoulder to see the ghost standing in the kitchen doorway, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Antonio muttered an oath as he loosened his hold on Victoria and turned to face the intruder. “I have not seen you for days and now you appear?” Though his voice was gruff, Vicki didn't miss the underlying note of affection. “Be gone with you, spirit!”

Lady Kathryn laughed again as she glided into the room. “Are you two so caught up in each other you would let the house burn down around you?” She gestured at the stove. “Yon dinner is aflame.”

“Oh, no!” Vicki ran to the stove and opened the door. The chicken wasn't on fire, but it now resembled charcoal more than chicken. She pulled the roasting pan from the oven, uttering a wordless cry of pain as the hot metal burned her hand.

Antonio was beside her in an instant. Taking her injured hand in his, he bit his finger hard enough to draw several drops of blood, which he spread over the angry burn on her hand.

“What are you doing?” Vicki exclaimed, and then murmured, “Oh, my,” as the throbbing pain receded to a dull ache and then disappeared.

She looked up at Antonio, shocked beyond words at what had just happened. She looked down at her hand, which was healing before her eyes, the raw, red patch fading until only healthy pink skin remained.

“That's…it's…” She stared up at him, stunned.

His gaze met hers, filled with the knowledge of what she was feeling, thinking. Gently, he lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across her palm. “I am sorry I ruined your dinner.”

She nodded. Did all vampires possess this wondrous gift of healing? If so, he should be saving lives, healing children, fighting disease in every corner of the world.

“No,” he said quietly. “It does not work like that.”

“Why not? Why would it work for me and not for someone else?” She looked at his ravaged cheek. It looked better each time she saw him. In the places where it had healed completely, there was no sign of a scar. “Think of the lives you could save.”

“No, my sweet one. It works for you because we have…” He hesitated to say the word.

“We have what?”

“We are bonded, heart to heart and soul to soul.”

At his words, Vicki's heart began to pound. “We are? When did we do that?”

“When I first tasted you.”

“But…Falco drank from me.” Fear twisted in her gut, worse than anything she had ever known. “Does that mean that I'm bonded to him, too?”

“No.”

“Why not?” She lifted a hand to the stitches in her neck. “He took far more blood than you did.”

“Because I tasted you first,” Antonio said. “But, more importantly, you gave yourself to me willingly.”

“And if I hadn't?”

“There would be no bond between us.”

“That's how he found us, isn't it? Because he took my blood?”

Antonio nodded. “But he has no power over you.”

“Well, this has been most enlightening.” Lady Kathryn hopped down from the top of the refrigerator where she had been sitting and observing. “There's just nothing like young love, is there?”

“Young?” Antonio asked with a wry smile. He had not been young for over five hundred years.

“Perhaps I should have said new love,” Lady Kathryn amended airily. “Behave yourself, Antonio. Do not bed the girl until you have wed the girl.”

And with that bit of unexpected motherly advice, Lady Kathryn vanished from the room.

“She's quite a character,” Vicki remarked.

“Indeed,” Antonio said dryly.

Lady Kathryn's talk of marriage left Vicki feeling oddly nervous. As much as she cared for Antonio, as much as she loved him, if she was being honest, she knew they could never marry or have a normal life together. The thought saddened her. Not wanting to dwell on it, at least not while he was in the room, she pasted a bright smile on her face.

“Well,” she said, going to the refrigerator and pulling out a large bowl, “it looks like I'll just be having salad for dinner.”

“Victoria?”

“What?” She pulled a fork from the silverware drawer and placed it on the table, along with the salad bowl and a bottle of Italian dressing.

“Something has upset you.”

“I'm not upset.”

“You cannot lie to me, my sweet. What is it that troubles you? Was it Lady Kathryn's reference to marriage?”

“Why should that upset me?”

Moving up behind her, he placed his arms around her waist and drew her back against him. “I would like nothing more than to make you my wife.”

“Would you?” she asked tremulously.

“You know I would.” His breath warmed her cheek. “I can think of nothing that would give me more pleasure, but you would not be happy as the wife of a vampire.”

When she started to protest, he turned her in his arms and silenced her with a kiss. “You would not mind at first, but in time you would come to resent the hours that I cannot be with you, just as you would come to resent the fact that the years had no claim on me.”

She wanted to argue with him, to tell him that she loved him, that the differences between them didn't matter, but in her heart, she knew they did, knew that everything he said was true. In time, she would grow old and frail while he remained young and robust.

Breathing deeply, he buried his face in the wealth of her hair. “When Falco has been destroyed, I will take you home to your old life.”