I watched him. Waited for him to turn around. He just glared into the night, his jaw tight with emotions he couldn’t unleash. Unless he wanted more people to die tonight.
This is a big moment, said Granny May from her sewing chair. Her needle moved so furiously it might’ve been electrified, except clearly it was being powered by her nimble old fingers. It would be excellent if you could think of something deeply profound and moving to say that will both reassure him and give him something to remember for the rest of his days. She peered up at me. Shook her head. Never mind.
I opened my mouth. What came out was this: “I’m thinking you’re a huge tease. Knowing how hard up I am and just hanging that sweet tush of yours out there for me to ogle when you real y oughtta be—”
The rest of my sentence was lost in the rush of his return to me. My chair tipped backward as his body covered mine, but he caught us, and with a growl of laughter that made my toes curl, rol ed us away from the hearth before it could cause any lasting damage.
Hard to return every one of his kisses. Hundreds of them, hot and so sweet that I felt tears prick my eyelids as I final y let myself admit how much I’d missed them. I’d thrown my arms around his shoulders when we’d begun to fal .
Now I let my hands roam the hard planes of his back, run up his sides and down his thighs, remind me that he was real and here and—
“Mine,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he murmured, his lips brushing down my bare stomach and back up the curve of my ribs as he pushed my shirt out of his way.
“Always?” I didn’t mean to make it a question. Pul ing his hips closer as I wrapped my legs around him, I felt him shudder.
His eyes were ful of green fire when they met mine.
“Until the end of time.”
“Then…” I lifted his shirt so I could watch my fingers slide down the length of his broad chest, covered with lovely black curls, to his flat bel y with its arrow of soft hair leading my hands where they’d been aching to go for days. When he drew in a breath and then let it out slowly, hissing through his teeth like a sore athlete lowering himself into a hot bath, I nearly shouted with triumph. That I could make a man like Vayl, who had seen and felt everything, drop his head against mine and moan with desire—yes! This was how I wanted to use my time. Loving this man—no, this vampire—eternal y.
I whispered, “Would it be okay if I got you a ring?” He went stil under my fingers. But I could stil feel his skin, hot with excitement, leaning in to my touch. I said, “I have Cirilai. And I hope you know by now what that means to me.
But you don’t have anything of mine. So, you know, would you—”
“Yes.”
He covered my hands with his, lifted them both to his lips, and kissed my fingers, one by one. “How ever did I find you?”
“I was that skinny redhead kil ing your leftovers.” He chuckled. “Oh. Right.” He cupped my face in his hands. I clutched his shoulders as he began to nibble my lower lip. Then every control I’d had to snap on since Vayl had forgotten my name broke. With a groan that shook me head to toe, I rol ed over on top of my vampire and reminded him of exactly what we’d been missing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
When I came back to my senses I was sprawled across the coffee table with guest mints scattered around my head like confetti. My T-shirt was bunched up around my neck, Vayl was wrapped around my torso, and I won’t even mention what tangled around my ankles.
“Uh, now that I can breathe again?” I said.
Muffled sound from somewhere near my col arbone. I interpreted it as, “Yoof?”
“I kinda need to move. I think I’m getting goosed by your cane.”
“So that is where it went.” Low chuckle. Gawd I’d missed that sound! I felt myself bodily lifted from the scene of my latest indiscretion. But, realizing how deeply my dad would disapprove, I decided the guilt could wait, like, forever. Because Vayl was back. In a bold and reckless sorta way.
I began pul ing myself together. Realized I had an audience and slowed down. “You’re… watching?” He’d dressed faster than me. A gift both of guys and vamps, I guess. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing my wounds, checking out his own. “It has been…
quite a night.”
“Yuh-huh. And if we’re smart we’l get the hel outta here before the cops catch up to us and cause a delay we can’t afford.”
He stood, nodding decisively. “Yes, we should go.” He hesitated, cocking his head like he’d just thought of something. “Of course, you could open your present first. If you like.”
you like.”
Yikes! Birthday present! Gaudy diamonds! Where are you, Lucille?
Shit!
She didn’t want to come out for him. Because it wasn’t right. He’d only just gotten back from the 1700s. And after the most incredible moments of passion we’d shared yet, how could I fake anything now?
I said, “Of course. A present would be fabulous.” Oh crap. He can tell I’m not psyched about this. It’ll be our first fight since he got back and it’s only been, what, an hour? This is going to be some kind of record!
He reached into his pocket and pul ed out a black velvet box. It wasn’t big enough to hold a massive necklace.
Maybe it was just one gigantic stone. Maybe it was earrings. I could probably deal with that.
I opened the box, trying my best to smile.
It was a key.
An unmarked key.
I took it out. Held it up for him to see. “What does it open?” I asked.
He grinned again. I should probably tel him to stop that.
If he did it in front of kids there would be screaming.
He picked me up and carried me to the top of the stairs, where he set me down. Grasping his cane in one hand and the rail with the other, he looked at me with—holy crap, was that actual mischief in his sky-blue eyes?—and said, “I wil race you to the street.”
I bolted down the steps like the riad was on fire. He tried to pass me, but I snagged his arm and yanked him backward. He laughed out loud. “Cheater!” he cal ed as he grasped me around the middle and carried me down to the first landing.
I managed to wrap my legs around his waist and grab his shoulders, so that I did the next flight riding him piggyback. And then I pul ed out my secret weapon. I blew in his ear. He stopped. Then came the tongue, right around the rim of his earlobe and, just lightly, into the center. He shivered.
I jumped off and sprinted to the door.
“Vixen!” he cal ed, fol owing so close I could feel his fingers flicking my curls.
“Al ’s fair in love and birthday pres—” I skidded to a stop. Clapped both hands to my mouth, which did nothing to keep the tears from leaping into my eyes. “Vayl,” I whispered. “How…”
He leaned around to look into my face. He must’ve liked what he saw, because again with those fearsome fangs. A couple of pedestrians shrieked and bolted. I hardly noticed them. I felt like I’d hurtled into a dream.
He stepped to the curb and ran his hand along the hood of the gleaming black car that had not been parked there when we’d walked into the riad half an hour before. He said, “It is a—”