Midnight Embrace (28 page)

"The paintings in your bedroom at Blackbriar and at the Manor, they're you, too, aren't they? Both man and wolf."

Still he said nothing, only continued to watch her out of fathomless indigo eyes.

She swallowed, her hands worrying a fold in her skirt. "The night I came here, a wolf ran alongside the carriage. I thought I imagined it, but I didn't, did I? It was you."

He rose in a single fluid motion, moved several paces away, and faced her. A dark aura seemed to surround him. His eyes darkened, his body shimmered, blurred, and a wolf stood before her. A large black wolf with indigo eyes.

She stared at him, a dozen thoughts tumbling through her mind. It was impossible. It was fantastic. How did he do it? Did it hurt? Would he understand her if she spoke to him? Were all vampires capable of shape shifting? What of Rodrigo?

She blinked, and Alesandro stood before her again.

"Lisa?"

"Yes, my lord?"

A faint smile lifted a corner of his mouth. "Are you going to faint?"

"I don't think so. Do all vampires have the power to change shape like that?"

"No." He sat down beside her once again, picked up her teacup, held it to her lips. "Drink this."

The tea had grown cold, but she did as he asked. Doing such a normal, everyday thing had a calming effect on her.

"Is that it?" she asked shakily. "Did I pass the test?"

"Nothing so simple as that, my sweet."

"What, then?" she said, her trepidation growing ever stronger. "Tell me."

"I want you to spend the night with me."

"That's all?"

He nodded, his expression solemn.

She stared at him, her mind racing. What could be so bad about spending the night with him?

"And the day," he said. "Until after sunrise."

And then she knew what he meant, knew what the test was.

He read the knowledge in her eyes.

"Not…" She bit down on her lower lip, knowing her words would be seen as a sign of weakness. "Not in the cottage?"

He shook his head. He would spare her that much, at least.

"When?"

"Tonight."

Spending the night with Alesandro. It seemed a simple thing, something she had yearned to do. To fall asleep in his arms after making love. And they would make love tonight. She knew it, felt it in every fiber of her being.

He blew out the lamps in the parlor, lifted her into his arms, and carried her swiftly up the stairs and down the long, dark corridor to his room. The door opened at his silent command and closed the same way. She heard the key turn in the lock; a moment later, a fire sprang to life in the hearth.

He was still holding her in his arms. Now he gazed down at her, his expression impassive. "If you wish to change your mind, you must say so now."

She shook her head.

Letting her body slide intimately down his own, he placed her on her feet, and then backed away from her. "I have instructed Mrs. Thornfield to unlock the door at half past eight tomorrow morning."

Analisa nodded.

"If you are gone when I rise in the evening, Mrs. Thornfield will contact you."

She started to ask how Mrs. Thornfield would know where to find her, then stayed her tongue. Alesandro had taken her blood. He would always be able to find her.

"You are certain you wish to do this, 'Lisa?"

"Yes."

"Then come to me, Analisa."

She had known, when they made love the first time, that her life would be irrevocably changed, but that paled in significance to this.

She moved slowly into his embrace, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she was certain everyone within the walls of the house could hear it.

She gazed up into his eyes as he lowered his head toward hers, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that was at once achingly tender and violently possessive. His tongue plundered her mouth, his hands moved up and down her back, slid down to cup her buttocks and draw her close against him. He was fully aroused.

He carried her to the bed and lowered her onto the mattress, followed her down, his mouth never leaving hers. She clung to him, caught up in a maelstrom of yearning and desire, of overwhelming need to cradle him in her arms.

Their clothing disappeared as if by magic. Vampire magic. And then he was pressing her down onto the mattress.

His skin felt cool against the heat of her own, his hands urgent as they caressed her, arousing her until she moved restlessly beneath him.

"I love you." She whispered the words as his body slid into hers. She arched upward, wanting more of him, all of him.

He groaned softly. " 'Lisa, 'Lisa. Four hundred years I have waited for you."

"I'm here." She cupped his face in her hands.

His gaze burned into hers, hotter than the flames crackling in the hearth.

"Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you." He moved deep within her. "I will always love you."

"And I you."

She saw the doubt in his eyes, the fear that she would not be strong enough to endure what was to come.

Her hands moved restlessly over his back and shoulders, sliding up and down his arms, reveling in the strength that trembled there.

"Don't think of it now, Alesandro."

His tongue laved her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Let me."

She closed her eyes and turned her head, felt his fangs at her throat. Pleasure and ecstasy mingled inside her. She felt what he felt as his body moved within hers, knew that for this small space of time, the beast within him lay quiet, sated by her blood and by the desire building, cresting, exploding in the deepest part of her.

A low growl rose in his throat as he thrust into her, and for a moment, just a moment, an image of the painting hanging over his bed at Blackbriar Hall flashed through her mind, the images of man and beast melding into one as Alesandro followed her over the edge of desire.

Afterward, feeling blissfully content, she lay in the circle of his arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her fingers playing in the thick black silk of his hair.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly.

"No, of course not." She smiled at him, her heart swelling with love and tenderness. Always, his first thought was for her. She looked at him, awed to be loved by such a man. A man who had lived over four hundred years, who could summon fire with a thought, who could crush her with a look. He had such strength, possessed powers she could not begin to imagine. Yet he held her gently in his arms and adored her with his eyes.

Lifting himself on one elbow, he gazed down at her, one brow arched. "What are you thinking about, 'Lisa?"

"Don't you know?"

He shook his head, his gaze intent upon her face.

"I thought you could read my mind."

"I do not make a habit of it."

She raked her fingernails lightly down his chest. "Afraid to know what I'm thinking?" she teased.

He nodded, his expression somber.

"Alesandro, I have nothing to hide from you, no secrets you cannot share. But something troubles you. I can see it in your eyes. You look so sad sometimes, so lost. Is there nothing I can do to help?"

He closed his eyes as if he were in pain, and then with a low groan he crushed her to him. He spoke to her in a language she did not understand, his voice low and ragged, filled with self-loathing.

As the words moved over her, her mind filled with images of Alesandro. He held nothing back. He showed her all the horror of his first days as a vampire. She felt the excruciating pain that engulfed him when he refused to satisfy his hunger, felt his agony when his sister went mad, his hurt and his rage when Rodrigo turned on him, his sadness when he left his home for the last time, never to return. She felt his isolation from the rest of the world, the loneliness that had been his companion over four centuries. And his need—she felt it in every part of her, the pain, the relentless need, and then the cessation of pain when at last he gave in to his thirst. It was a pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced, as necessary to his survival as the air she breathed to live.

She felt the wetness of his tears on her cheek as he fell silent. She hugged him to her, one hand stroking his hair, until comfort became need and need became desire and they made love again, tenderly, so tenderly. The gentleness of his touch only made her love him more. Tears filled her eyes. Her heart swelled with love until she thought it might burst.

Held tightly in his arms, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the weariness that engulfed her.

Alesandro watched her all through the night, wondering if he would ever see her again, wondering what her reaction would be when she woke beside a body that was virtually lifeless.

He smelled the dawn, knew the sun was rising. His body grew heavy, his mind sluggish. He should have prepared her, he thought, warned her… too late now… too late…

Chapter Twenty-four

Analisa woke slowly, aware that she was smiling. Unwilling to open her eyes, she rolled onto her side and pulled the covers over her head, hoping she could recapture the lovely dream she'd been having. Such a wonderful dream. She had been walking through a sunlit garden with Alesandro beside her. The pain and sadness were gone from his eyes; his skin was no longer pale but a rich golden brown. Hand in hand, they had walked and talked, then made love beneath a tree.

But the dream was only a memory now. With a sigh, she threw off the covers and opened her eyes. She started to smile when she saw Alesandro lying beside her, but the smile died unborn upon her lips. He did not move. He did not breathe. His face was beyond pale. Lifting a trembling hand, she touched his cheek and quickly jerked her hand away. His skin was as cold as the marble crypt at Blackbriar, his body hard and unyielding.

She stared at him in horror, then scrambled off the bed, every instinct she possessed shrieking at her to get away. She ran to the door and found it locked. The key! Where was the key?

She started to pound on the door, a scream rising in her throat. With an effort, she fought down her rising panic. There was nothing to fear. It was only Alesandro, and he would not hurt her. Could not hurt her, not now.

Slowly she turned around, her back pressed tight against the door. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she forced herself to look at him again.

There was nothing to fear.

"Nothing to fear." She whispered the words aloud over and over again as she moved toward the bed. "Nothing to fear." He wasn't dead, only asleep.
A sleep like death
. If she spoke to him, would he hear her? When she'd touched him, had he felt it?

Shivering, she pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it around her shoulders. It was then she saw the dagger on the table beside the bed. Curious, she lifted it, surprised at the way it fit so snugly into her hand. It was a heavy weapon, with a thick blade tapered to a sharp point. The blade was made of silver, the haft of wood inset with a blood-red ruby. Frowning, she turned the weapon over in her hands, and then, as clearly as if she heard Alesandro's voice, she knew he had left it there for her. He had given her the means to destroy him.

With a cry, she threw the knife into the fireplace, then sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for Mrs. Thornfield.

He woke as soon as the sun began to set. One minute he was held fast in the death-like sleep of his kind, the next he was awake and aware. And in that instant, he was conscious of everything around him: Analisa's scent clinging to himself and the bedding, the rain that had just begun to fall, the aroma of hot cocoa.

The fact that he was not alone.

"Good evening, my lord."

He sat up, unconcerned by his nudity. "Analisa." He could not disguise his astonishment at finding her there. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you to wake up, of course. What else would I be doing?"

"You did not leave." He stared at her blankly, unable to believe his eyes.

"Only for a little while." She smiled at him. "I left long enough to bathe and have some breakfast, and then I came back here."

"Have you been sitting there watching me all day?"

She laughed softly. "Well, not quite." She pointed at the book on the bedside table. "I read for a while, and then I finished my needlepoint. And I took a nap after lunch."

"A nap?"

"Yes, in your bed," she said, answering his unspoken question. "I hope you don't mind."

He stared at her. "You slept here? Beside me?"

"Of course. That's what beds are for." Rising, she walked around the bed and sat down beside him. "I thought you would like to bathe when you woke up. Cook is heating the water. It should be ready soon."

" 'Lisa." He wrapped his arms around her waist, his face pressed in the valley between her breasts. " 'Lisa, 'Lisa." Only her name, filled with such love it brought tears to her eyes.