"Yes. He was an honored guest at their home." Alessandro paused. "That was why their gift had to be special. They wanted to impress him, for he had great influence with the merchant traders from the eastern lands."
"So they gave him you?"
"They gave him many gifts. I was but one. I was a curiosity, like an exotic pet. The people from my village were descended from the northern hordes—the great warriors from Germania who had brought Rome to its knees hundreds of years before. We were physically impressive, fair-haired and tall, a novelty. Besides that, I played many instruments. I sang in seven languages. I was an exquisite token, the way a fine horse is a prized gift."
Okay, not man as case of beer, but man as entertainment unit. The situation still mystified her. She groped for something, anything she could relate to. "I met you at a musical concert."
"Yes. I still enjoy listening to it, and I still play. That, at least, Kalil did not take."
"He decided you were a gift that ought to keep on giving? Forever?"
Alessandro smiled, but it was sour. "Perhaps he wanted to preserve my ornamental value the same way one might preserve a flower by dipping it in wax."
"Ornamental?"
He shrugged. "I was pretty and made nice sounds. I didn't learn to fight as a warrior until after I was Turned. I had no real taste for battle before that. Kalil's curse brought a hunger for the sword."
"What happened to him?"
His face grew shadowed. "Human hunters. They came in the day, while my clan slept, and killed them all. I survived by pure chance. I was away on a trip to buy horses."
"Thank the Goddess," Holly murmured.
"Thank an argumentative and hard-dealing trader. Now you know all there is to know about me," he said, touching her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Nothing more happened that was good or kind until the night you and I met."
"I think you're editing history to suit the moment."
He gave a smile that answered nothing, his eyes searching her face. "I remember that coffeehouse concert. You walked over and handed me a listing of who was playing there that month."
"You looked like you were enjoying the music."
"Still, it's rare for someone to make such a gesture, a casual kindness, to one of my species. And for good reason."
Holly blinked, trying to follow what he was saying and not making it. She was falling into his gold-shot gaze.
His voice dropped to a whisper. "You looked at me and responded to what was there, just as I was at that moment. Everyone else in the room saw a hunter, a danger, but you saw me."
She waited as he kept stroking her face, and all she wanted was that touch. The words were incidental.
"Holly, you deserve as much from your lovers. You deserve someone who will look at you, your house, your work, and adore all of it. Ben could never have seen you, or he would be here laying his heart at your feet."
Oh. Her own heart drifted in her breast, a giddy, sideways ache of sweet pain. Holly could feel the blood creeping under her skin, rising under his touch. Oh. "Alessandro…"
"Yes?"
"Can we be together without it going all wrong? Just once?"
Holly was not sure what she expected him to do or say. He sat still and silent, as motionless as only the Undead could be. Then he drew her close, his body hard against hers.
"Once." He said it like a prayer, as if he bargained with his soul for that single chance.
His lips touched hers, the sensation melting all the way down the back of her legs. Holly's fingers slid down to caress the tight leather encasing his thighs, winding the fringe around her fists. She used it as leverage to pull closer to him, arching her torso against his chest.
Holly took his mouth greedily, his teeth sharp against her tongue. She shivered, imagining their pressure against her skin. She was testing their self-control in dangerous ways, but she had run out of the stamina it took to resist. "I've wanted to do this since I first saw you," she breathed.
"Where is your bed?" It came out as a demand, rough and deep.
He picked her up and she grabbed his shoulders, the electricity that ran between them humming in her belly, up her spine, tingling in her fingers' ends. A faint sheen touched Alessandro's cheekbones. He was feeling it as much as she was.
"Upstairs," she replied, not sure how she convinced her mouth to form the word.
Sure-footed, he found his way up the dark staircase. As he shouldered through the half-open door to her bedchamber, she used her magic to light the candle on her bedside table. She needed to see the look of wild tenderness on his face, to savor it in her memory.
He set her down on the bedcovers like a jeweler laying out his finest piece. He sat on the bed beside her, fanning out the long, dark tendrils of her hair, smoothing them from her forehead.
"I love you," he said. "Never forget that."
The words liberated her, giving her a certainty she had been afraid to want. Holly touched his lips, her own mouth gone dry with need. "My memory isn't that faulty."
He pulled off the mesh shirt, the long, lean muscles of his chest and stomach exposed to view.
"And I'll certainly remember that," she added.
That surprised a laugh from him. She held up her arms, and Alessandro came to her at last, sinking to her side. His skin was cool, smooth as silk.
"I need to feel you," he said, running his hands under the hem of her sweater.
He was growing warmer as they touched, his heart thudding slowly, erratically. It's like bringing him to life by making love. Like being a goddess.
The sweater came off, followed by the rest of their clothes. She buried her hands in the wealth of his hair, wrapping herself around his lean, long body. He was all sinew, muscles working in ivory perfection. He was also impressively male, long and thick enough to make her insides coil with need and hesitation. No wonder Kalil and his clan had wanted Alessandro preserved forever.
Hard kisses left her lips feeling flushed and raw, the force of his demands a rush all on their own. His hands shook, and he plunged them into the bedclothes, twisting the blankets into his fists. The muscles of his neck and forearms strained taut as ropes. He's controlling himself.
That was wrong. She didn't want that. She wanted him to be as free as she felt. Holly began to stroke him harder, seeking out the places where he felt the most pleasure, but he caught her hands. "No, I don't dare. Let me take care of you. It's much safer that way."
"But—"
His face was tight. "Trust me. Let me. I know where I can lead this dance."
Holly allowed him to pin her arms and take control, but she felt cheated.
He didn't let her feel that way long. Alessandro tasted her skin from earlobes to collarbone, circling over her nipples, leaving only the faintest rake of fangs in his wake. It was a tease, a dangerous game, but, oh, so thrilling.
Holly squirmed and twisted under his touch. Now he was raising the temperature degree by degree. By the time his lips reached her stomach, she ached for more direct satisfaction. The silky hardness of his shaft was ready to be put to good use, but he had other ideas. Immortals had forever to explore the possibilities of delayed gratification.
Or perhaps he was just clinging to sanity. He looked up, his eyes bright with a smoldering hunger. Holly caught her breath, half fear, half anticipation. The hunter was dancing just beneath the surface of his gaze, roused by feral lust.
That look alone nearly pushed her over the edge, but Alessandro held her in his relentless control.
With featherlight brushes of hair and lips, he continued his way over her flesh with deliberate precision. His path crept ever downward, but bypassed the most sensitive areas. That was fine—he found erogenous zones where none had previously existed. Her ribs. Her hip. The inside of her wrist. He stopped only when he reached the inside of her thigh, the soft stretch where blood and nerves lay under translucent skin.