Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series) (17 page)

He nodded.

“I would never do such a thing without your consent though.” He looked honest enough, his expression serious once more. “You have my word on that.”

He didn’t need to give his word but it was comforting to have it. The thought of anyone controlling her was disturbing, but the idea of Kearn doing it against her will hurt her. Her vision blurred as she remembered the events of the past few days. She didn’t want Kearn to use her like that, making her do things like that terrible man had.

Kearn took a step towards her and her gaze met his again. The worry in his eyes warmed her heart and she shook away the dark memories of what the man had made her do and say, and nodded.

“Just enough to help with the fancy footwork,” Amber said and looked across the room to the duke. He sat in a tall-backed gilt chair on a stage above everyone, surrounded by men and women of varying ages. They were all speaking to him but he was watching the dancers, putting them under incredible scrutiny. He seemed displeased with everyone. She thought they were all amazing and no one was putting a foot out of place. “I get the impression that if I fail to make an impression on his lordship we’ll be going home early.”

“He is not a lord.” Kearn’s tone was hard, matching his frown. “He is a duke and you must refer to him as such.”

She nodded quickly, taken aback.

“Amber…” His look changed, softening instantly, and the darkness left his eyes. “The only reason we can be here is because of you… because you are… Amber, you are beyond merely beautiful and outshine the radiance of the night. You are as entrancing as the moon and as stunning as the million stars that glitter around her. You are breathtaking to behold, and I am honoured to be in attendance with you tonight.”

Her heart doubled its pace, cantering in her chest. She stared into his eyes, lost in them and what he had said. He thought she was more than beautiful. Her cheeks blazed, burning with the intensity of the sun. His words had been so eloquent and poetic. She had never had a man speak of her in such a way and she was surprised that he had said it, and wished that he had told her earlier, before the duke and Kyran, but perhaps it was because they had voiced their opinion that he had found the courage to voice his too.

She wasn’t sure how to respond so she went to look away but stopped. He hadn’t touched her face, but it had felt as though he had. She had sensed his desire for her to remain looking at him, and had done so.

Was this Kearn controlling her? It hadn’t felt as it had when the other man had done it, forcing her to do things in a way that made her feel as though she wasn’t master of her own body. It had felt as though he had physically touched her to keep her attention on him.

“Thank you for doing such a thing for me,” he whispered.

She warmed inside and smiled. “I haven’t done it yet. Thank me when I don’t make a fool of myself with the duke.”

Kearn held his arm out. The music quietened. Amber hesitated a moment and then placed her black gloved hand on the back of Kearn’s. It felt so formal that her smile widened.

Her nerves increased as they approached the dance floor. The vampires surrounding it parted to make way for them, their eyes on her. They wanted to see her make an idiot of herself. They wanted her to fail. She tilted her chin up. She wasn’t going to fail. Kearn was with her and he would be a good teacher, she was sure of it.

“Have you danced many waltzes?” She glanced at him. He had his head held high, his profile to her, and his green eyes fixed straight ahead. The silver lengths of his hair caressed his cheeks and neck, shining in the warm light of the chandeliers. He looked like the other vampires—noble, beautiful, and powerful.

Her heart fluttered again but not out of fear. It fluttered over the sight of him, and the feel of his hand under hers, and the thought that soon she would be in his arms again.

“Several hundred. I attended the balls every year since I turned one hundred and sixty.”

Amber stopped dead. A couple almost collided with her. They sneered in her direction and she couldn’t believe her eyes. They were a young girl and boy. Neither of them looked over twelve but they held themselves with such poise that they were unmistakably of noble blood. Amber looked around her. There were other girls and boys, varying in ages from young children to teenagers. Had someone turned them?

Kearn moved his hand forwards, a silent order for her to keep walking, and she obeyed.

“They were born vampires,” he said, as though he could read her mind. Did her blood give him that power too? It was a relief to know that no one had turned the children. Kearn had mentioned that he had been born to his parents. It was strange to think that vampires could have children and could age.

“How old are you?” She stared at his face, trying to figure it out. He must have been alive a long time on top of the one hundred and sixty years he had mentioned if he had clocked up several hundred waltzes.

“I was born in sixteen forty nine.”

Amber stopped again. He was over three hundred and sixty. He looked at her with cool eyes as she struggled to comprehend it. He had been alive over ten times longer than she had, and yet he only looked a handful of years older. It didn’t seem to bother him. She smiled at her thoughts. It was normal to him so why would it bother him? He probably thought it was strange that she was aging so rapidly.

“Come,” he said. “We should not keep the dancers waiting.”

“Wait.” She held her hands up. “You can’t drop a bombshell like that and expect me to just dance afterwards. It isn’t normal.”

“I assure you it is.” He placed her hand on his again and started walking.

Amber had no choice but to follow him.

“My species ages at a different rate to yours. Initially, we take ten years to physically age the same as a human would in one year. Our bodies are different. Our heart beats only once per five seconds at resting pace. When we reach five hundred, around fifty in human terms of appearance, the aging process slows again, so thirty years is like one.”

That was a lot to take in. She looked over at the duke.

“How old is he?” she whispered, afraid he would hear and throw her out for asking such a question.

“Duke Montagu is over one thousand years old.”

Kearn stopped again with his back to the duke. Amber stared wide eyed at him over Kearn’s shoulder. The duke was watching her now, a smile curving his thin lips.

He looked barely older than her father but he was really over one thousand. Incredible.

The music started again, low strings slowly working up to include the woodwind instruments. Her eyes gradually moved away from the duke. Kearn was watching her too, his green eyes warm with amusement. She smiled.

“Ready for your lesson?”

Amber didn’t think she was.

But she nodded anyway.

Looking into his beautiful eyes, she realised that she didn’t care if she made a fool of herself.

Not if she was dancing with Kearn.

CHAPTER 11

A
mber looked around her to see what everyone else on the dance floor was doing. The ladies curtseyed to their partners so she did too, going low enough that she would make the right impression on Kearn and the watching vampires, but not so low that she wouldn’t be able to get back up. She rose again and the ladies stepped forwards into their partners’ waiting arms.

She went to touch Kearn’s arm and take his hand.

Kearn stepped back.

“The first thing you need to know is never touch me or anyone above your rank.” His voice was stern again. She had committed a faux pas by grabbing the duke. Everyone here was probably above her. “You must allow your partner to place your hands.”

Kearn gently placed her right hand on his shoulder and held her left, their palms pressing together. His hand was warm and his fingers curled tightly around hers. Both of his hands were steady. Hers shook like crazy.

She swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat but it didn’t help.

“I need a drink,” she whispered and Kearn’s gaze slid to her neck and then back to her eyes. A shiver tripped through her at the flash of red in his irises.

She jumped when his left hand settled against her waist and then they were moving. The tempo of the orchestra was slower than before. It was a triumphant sounding piece, with rising strings and deep brass. The choir sung beautifully but she didn’t hear it. She was lost in Kearn’s eyes and the way he was holding her, moving with her. They turned in slow circles and it didn’t feel as though he was moving her feet for her. She felt in control.

“See,” he whispered and smiled into her eyes, “nothing to it.”

She smiled and his look turned serious, his head tilting to one side. His eyes dropped to her mouth, briefly enough that she might have missed it had she not been watching him so closely. Did he want to kiss her? She swallowed again. She wanted to kiss him.

“Tell me about your brother,” he said.

She stumbled slightly. “I don’t think this is the time for conversation. I need to concentrate.”

“No, you do not. You will only make it more difficult for me. I can concentrate for both of us.”

Amber tried to think of what to tell him. It was hard not to focus on her feet when she knew she was dancing.

“He’s around your height and build, funny and smart, looks like a male version of me and lives in Paris,” she said and no longer noticed the way the vampires stared, the couples glancing their way as they passed, or even the duke. The music and Kearn filled her world. He was so handsome, looking at her with warmth in his eyes and no trace of loneliness. She felt as though she had helped erase his hurt after all. “He’s always trying to get me to move to France and it must have finally worked because I’m going to Paris soon.”

Kearn frowned. “You are leaving England?”

She nodded. “I’m moving there for work.”

The warmth in Kearn’s eyes dissipated, leaving ice in its wake. He turned his face away, looking in the direction that they were moving with the music, and her feelings shifted. The excitement and happiness she had felt on mentioning her move to Paris gradually changed into something darker.

Anger?

That feeling winked out of existence and she stumbled, barely keeping herself standing as she turned with Kearn again.

Cold swept through her.

He had shut her out, relinquishing control of her and leaving her in the dark about his feelings. Why?

Amber focused hard, biting her lip and tripping her way through the steps. This wasn’t good. She panicked, the feeling blasting through her so quickly that her temperature shot up and her heart skipped. She caught her foot on Kearn’s boot and her eyes leapt to his, her apology balancing on her lips.

It fell away when her feet suddenly knew the way and her legs no longer shook. Was he controlling her again? The anger she had felt before he had surrendered control of her wasn’t there anymore. She searched his eyes for it and found nothing. The desire to question him burned in her heart but she couldn’t find the courage to go through with it. What was she going to ask him?

Was he angry because she was leaving England? Didn’t he want her to go to Paris? Did he want her to stay?

Did he want her?

Amber glanced down at the bright silver buttons on the breast of his black jacket, focusing on herself instead of him, studying her own feelings. What did she want? The thought of Paris had excited her before she had met him, but now her move felt like something to fear rather than look forward to. Her eyes roamed up over his chest and neck to his face, lingering on his sensual mouth. Fire skittered over her skin at the memory of their kiss. The thought of kissing him again excited her, sent her blood rushing and her mind leaping forward to imagine how everything would unfold from even the gentlest of caresses.

She forced her eyes onwards, until they met his. There had to be something that she could say to break the ice between them again.

“I’m not really sure I’ll like it in Paris,” she whispered, looking deep into his eyes. She had loved the thought of it just a few days ago but meeting Kearn had changed her whole world, knocking it off kilter, and now she wasn’t sure of anything. She shrugged. “I’m not even any good at French.”

Kearn leaned over and her eyes widened when his cheek brushed hers, heating hers through. He whispered in French into her ear, his breath tickling her neck, and continued to turn with her. Her eyelids fell to half-mast and she melted into him, savouring the feel of him against her and the relief that blossomed deep in her heart as she realised he was no longer angry with her. Only warm feelings danced inside her now, and a part of them were his. He drew back again and she shook some sense into herself, enough to look him in the eye.

“What did you say?”

He just smiled.

She wanted to know. Whatever it had been, it had sounded distinctly romantic.

The choir began to sing again, slower now but rising with the music, sweeping over the room and carrying her along. Their words sounded as beautiful as Kearn’s had and she listened to them.

“Is that Latin?” She turned with Kearn. They had moved closer together. His chest brushed hers as they spun to the music, galloping around the room. It was still hard for her not to think about the steps. Whenever she stopped speaking, her focus went back to her feet. She used Kearn as a distraction, keeping her eyes on his face, and floated along in his arms.

He nodded.

“Do you understand it?” What other languages did he know? He was over three hundred years old. He had probably learnt many languages and studied all sorts of things in his years.

He nodded again and looked ahead of them.

“What are they saying?”

“You do not want to know.”

Amber gasped when they collided with another couple. The sandy haired man glared at her. Marquess Pendragon. Had he bumped them on purpose? Amber didn’t recognise the woman in his arms.

“Ignore them,” Kearn said and she focused on him again, only this time the world didn’t melt away. She was aware of everyone staring and the intent behind their glares. She could sense they wanted to harm her.