Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) (10 page)

She looked into the mirror in the bathroom, alone at last. Raising the glittering
glass of port to her lips, she stared hard into her own eyes. She wasn’t sure
if she wanted to know what was real and what wasn’t. Or if it was important.
Her imagination had been working overtime.

She angled her neck to dare look at the place where she had felt his lips
on her, the sharp stinging sensation, but, other than a reddened area from a
deep kiss, there was no wound there. Her forefinger laced up and down the
smooth surface of her skin, feeling for a bump, a callus, a…

Bite?

But there wasn’t one. Nothing marred the cool surface of her skin. Her
cheeks hadn’t stopped their flush; her lips were swollen from the claiming
kisses he gave and from her pressing against him almost to the point of pain.
She pulled up the hair at the nape of her neck and looked at herself again. Her
curls fell about her face as she pouted her lips. She felt positively ancient,
wicked, and desired as never before.

A gentle knock on the door stopped her daydream.

“Cara, are you okay?” he murmured through the painted wooden door.

“Of course. You can come in,” she answered.

He leaned into the doorframe, his dark curls shiny and tousled. His dark
eyes wandered from her face, to the pink mounds of her breasts, and down to the
juncture between her legs. Just the way he looked at her made her feel like
molten chocolate.

He watched as she let go of her curls and they fell about her shoulders.

“Your hair. I love your hair,” he said as he stepped in, standing behind
her. He kissed her neck as she watched him through the mirror, as she felt him
linger on her neck, breathe into her ear and whisper something to her that made
her shiver.

“What is it you are saying to me? You put me under some spell with your
incantations?”

He raised his face and placed his chin at the top of her head, with the
Cheshire cat smile she’d already gotten used to. But not really.

“Guilty,” he sighed.

She tilted her head. “Is your brother going to feed us? I am starved.”

“We have two choices.” He busied himself kissing the back of her neck,
and each vertebra down her back. “We can stay here tonight and order room
service, or, go to Healdsburg and visit with the family.”

The choice was so unfair. She wasn’t sure any other afternoon for the
rest of her life would ever equal this one. She was hesitant to give it up, or
end it with polite conversation of a non-sexual kind.

“I will do whatever you ask of me. Especially if you continue doing
that,” she whispered as he squeezed her breasts and rubbed his erection up and
down the cleft in her behind.

“So willing. So beautiful.”

“Can we do both?”

He leaned back and laughed. She turned and faced him, her thighs against
his, her mound pressing into his lower belly.

“My dear Carabella. You have school tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes. And I don’t require much sleep. I promise.”

They showered, sharing her glass of port. She enjoyed the kisses he scattered
all over her, the way his tongue probed her, the way his fingers played in her
hair, between her legs, massaged her neck and shoulders. He carefully dried her
off like a marble statue of Venus. He would say, “I like this,” and kiss her
there. He made no mystery of his favorite places on her body.

The driver arrived just at sunset and whisked them by moonlight up the
narrow winding road until they arrived at a large house built at the side of a
hill overlooking rows of vines.

“All this belongs to Marcus,” he said as he spread his hand, illustrating
the wide expanse without another house in sight. The stone manor house at the
top of the hill was lit with torches that crackled and sputtered up into the
night sky.

“Torches. I’ve been seeing them all afternoon,” she said.

“Interesting. I love a big fire.”

“It was like I could read your mind. I saw old cobblestones and torches
in darkened curved hallways.”

“I might have been dreaming of Italy,” he said absent-mindedly as he
stroked her upper arm. “But you are thinking about our family. I told you we
have a very old family, although none of the older ones are alive today.”

“Must be what I was dreaming. In any case, I don’t want it to end, if it
is a dream.”

He adjusted her against him again and gave her upper body a squeeze.

At the front door, a young boy waited. Warm yellow light spilled out onto
him and the stoop as he stood, holding a very tall man’s hand.

The man was a darker version of Paolo, but perhaps a little taller.

“Welcome to Villa Monteleone, Cara,” Paolo whispered to the top of her
head. The driver opened the door and she allowed him to get out first, then allowed
him to pull her hand and present her to the man and the boy.

“Carabella Sampson, this is my brother Marcus Monteleone and my son,
Lucius.”

The boy was as handsome as his father. He stepped forward with a stiff
bow and extended his hand. “Lucius Monteleone,” he said, as if there might be
some question.

“Nice to meet you, Lucius,” she said as she grasped his little hand in
both of hers. “Please call me Cara.” She stepped toward Marcus and extended her
hand, which he quickly took and kissed, just as his brother had done two nights
ago at the ball. The way they behaved was identical. She felt herself blush, as
if Paolo had touched her himself. “Wonderful to meet you as well, Mr.
Monteleone.”

“Marcus.”

She saw the darker brother give a tiny wink to Paolo and show them the
way inside.

The foyer was done in deep red tones. Old tattered and faded flags and
oil paintings of long-ago ancestors graced all four of the wallpapered in the
entryway. Paintings depicting hunting trips, exotic animals and castles were
scattered here and there. “These are some of your ancestors. No one current, I
see?”

“They’ve been gone a long time.”

In the doorway to the kitchen, a beautiful auburn-haired woman carrying a
blanket-wrapped baby suddenly appeared. “Welcome to our home. I’m Anne,” she
said as she reached out and shook Cara’s hand firmly.

Cara had never seen such a strikingly handsome family. She was at a loss
for words.

“Thank you for allowing us to just pop in on you without notice,” Cara
said.

“Oh no, the driver told us you would be coming as soon as you were done
at the Inn.” Lucius piped up. This surprised a chuckle from Marcus, though he
worked to stifle it. Cara saw he’d earned a reproachful look from his wife.

Cara felt her cheeks flush. Paolo placed his arm around her waist and
squeezed her. The nearness and electricity of his body touching hers was
intoxicating and her knees wobbled. She heard a low rumble inside Paolo’s
chest.

“Lucius was anxious to see his father, and when the driver returned, he
naturally ran out to greet him, and was told you two had decided to stay in
town f
or a while
,” Anne’s quick
explanation was adequate, but Cara felt there was something else she wasn’t
privy to. “Are you hungry, Cara?” Anne asked as she handed the baby to her
husband.

“Yes. Starved,” Cara said and stepped closer to the baby. “What a
beautiful little girl.”

Lucius laughed out loud. Marcus spoke up first, “I’m not going to tell
him you said that” He smiled down on her with the same commanding presence
Paolo had. “His name is Ian.”

She needed to change the subject. “Anne, may I help with anything?”

“Oh, I’m not fussing. We’re going very casual and simple tonight” She
looked at Paolo, “Paolo, are you hungry this evening?”

“Of course. Haven’t eaten in hours.” His words were stiff, but he winked
at Cara.

“I know, silly question.” She motioned for Cara to follow her into the
kitchen.

Cara had never seen such a beautiful, grand room. Ornately carved crown
molding hovered in the tall shadows above the kitchen cabinets. The ceiling was
at least twelve feet above them. Old Italian tile covered the countertops, but
the floor was a light hardwood. One end of the kitchen was open to an intimate
room with leather couch and a floor-to-ceiling brick fireplace. A two-foot tree
trunk was burning on ornate iron grates with dragon’s heads on them. Fire flickered
in the cut out eyes of the fierce beasts of burden.

Anne was setting out some hand-painted square plates. With the crackling
sounds and smoky scent of the fireplace as background, she started to ask the questions
Cara knew were coming.

“How long have you and Paolo known each other?” Her nimble fingers were
adjusting light green lettuce leaves on the plates, placing one leaf on the
small plate Cara knew must be for Lucius. She didn’t look up, but when Cara
didn’t answer right away, she stopped and waited.

“Well, let’s see, since day before yesterday.”

Anne’s face beamed with a warm smile.

“I completely understand,” she said.

How could you?
 
“He is rather handsome. I find he has
quite an effect on me,” Cara answered.

“Yes…” Anne drifted off into a reverie all her own. “The brothers are
like that. Women falling all over them, yet, they are discreet, and they choose
wisely.” She smiled again, and licked her lips.

“How long have you and Marcus been married?”

“About a year, a little longer.”

“Was it sudden. Did you—“

“Yes.” The look Anne gave her said she was done talking about it. Some
divide had opened up a chasm, and nothing Cara knew would be able to bridge it.

Anne took a hot casserole out of the oven with red oven mitts. Smells of
bubbling cheeses warmed Cara’s spirits. She bent over to look at it carefully,
her eyebrows coming to a point on her forehead.

“Macaroni and cheese?”

“Yes. It’s Lucius’ favorite. He asks for it every night. We humor him
when we have guests. Keeps him at the table a little longer.” With a spatula,
she scooped a square onto each plate. She then added tomatoes and sliced
peppers to the lettuce, poured a hand-shaken dressing mix over the top and
garnished them with crumbled blue cheese.

“You guys eat a lot of cheese, I see.”

“We always have tons of it around. Goes with the wine. And actually, I
think it is our biggest source of protein.”

Cara looked at Anne’s beautiful figure and wondered how she could stay so
slim on a diet of cheese. “No fish, other meats?”

“Very little. We’re practically vegetarians, although we love fresh eggs
and our cheeses. We make many of our own here at the winery”.

“I’d have a hard time not devouring a good steak now and then. Don’t
think I could ever be a vegetarian.”

Anne gave her a thoughtful look. “I had an unfortunate experience with
some beef liver, got very ill. Ever since then, I cannot stomach meat from animal
flesh.”

“Ah.” It was certainly an odd thing, Cara thought.

“Although, sometimes the boys do enjoy a good barbeque, maybe a couple of
times a year, and usually when we’re entertaining.”

Anne handed Cara two plates. “This one is for you and this is for Paolo.
If you would serve them and take your seat, I’d be so grateful. I’m going to
check on Ian first, and then I’ll join you.”

“No problem.”

Cara presented Paolo with his plate, and just after she seated herself, he
leaned over and gave her a sweet kiss on her cheek that tingled all the way to
her sex.

Anne returned to the table. “He’s sleeping like a log, which means he
will keep us up all night.”

Marcus looked brightly at his wife as she seated herself and motioned for
everyone to begin.

“No worries, pet. I’ll take one shift so you can sleep,” Marcus told her.

“He has an appetite like his father,” Anne said, and then blushed. “We’ll
figure it out.”

Paolo leaned an arm over the back of Cara’s chair, letting his fingers
make little circles in the top of her arm. She’d remembered those circles he’d
made this afternoon around her nipples, those same fingers.

Her panties were sopping wet already. She thought perhaps she could even
smell her own arousal. Turning to face Paolo, with his beautiful tanned face
framed with dark curly hair.
 
With
his high cheekbones and full lips, his stormy dark eyes, his nostrils
flaring—she saw that he understood. He leaned into her as his warm breath
drifted over her ear, making her shiver. Then her body began to hum to some
frequency. It was something she’d never felt before.

“I feel the same way every time I look at you, Bella,” he said.

Again the hair at the back of her neck prickled. Paolo’s warm hand
clamped down on it and he massaged the top of her spine with his long fingers.

Those fingers that have been all
over my body.

She closed her eyes and fell into his rhythm. When she opened her eyes,
both Marcus and Anne diverted their gazes quickly. But they had been watching.

Marcus made a grand gesture of opening up one of his favorite red wines
and pouring them each a handsome goblet. A coat of arms was etched into the
crystal of each glass, along with a design around the letter M.

Monteleone.

The four grownups listened to Lucius tell them about school and his day.
Cara helped Anne clear the table, but as she leaned over Paolo, she felt his
hand slip along her backside, felt the heat through the fabric of her pants.
She gave him a nudge with her hip.

“Not at the table,” she whispered in his ear.

He grabbed her onto his lap as she glanced at Marcus with embarrassment,
and then he whispered in her ear, “On the table, under the table, anywhere.
Anytime.”

She stood up and lurched away, cheeks flushed. “You have an impossible
brother, Mr. Monteleone.”

“Not impossible. A very healthy alpha male vamp—”
 
Concern flashed all over Marcus’ face
as he corrected himself. “A very healthy alpha male vagabond from
Tuscany—a land legendary for men who mess with women before they have a
right to.”