As I perched there, trying to reclaim my balance, I became more and more annoyed. The journey through Devereux’s invisible transporter – or whatever it was he’d used to get me from where I had been to where I was – had definitely rained on the good feelings that kissing him had inspired in me, and I was royally steamed. Not to mention extremely tired of finding myself in locations chosen for me by some male or another without my consent. Something in my brain snapped.
No. That’s it! No more manipulating me and jerking me around.
I vaulted up from the chair with the fury of a woman pissed off, shaking with rage, and got right in Devereux’s face. All the anger that had been repressed during the previous hours burst out like a five-alarm fire as I yelled at him, ‘I don’t want to sit. I don’t want to be here. You had no right to bring me here. I didn’t tell you to snatch me. I’m tired. I want to be in my own house, in my own bed, away from all your bullshit!’ I punched his stomach with my fist, and then, outrageously shocked at myself, retreated a couple of steps. Definitely a case of temporary insanity.
He gasped and bent forwards slightly. He stared at me, shocked, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide, eyebrows creeping up towards his hairline. ‘Well.’ He straightened, recovering his poise, and grinned at me. ‘I wondered when you would let your feelings out. I am glad you have chosen to share them with me.’
I gave him a hard frown. I didn’t appreciate his apparent enjoyment of my outburst. In fact, he was acting downright superior about it, as if he’d arranged it.
With that, the last remaining fragment of the dam burst. ‘Share them with you?’ I screamed. ‘I’ll show you how I’ll share them with you, you pompous bastard!’
I had no idea how, but I managed to fling myself on him – flying through the air, as it were – my hands out in front of me, grasping towards his neck. It didn’t occur to me that attacking a vampire might have bigger ramifications than I’d anticipated. There was still some part of me that continued to have a hard time accepting that Devereux could be something as horrible as a blood-drinker. Although he did seem to have an extraordinary amount of physical strength. Not to mention that travelling-through-thought ability.
In an effortless movement he caught my wrists in one of his hands, curled his arm around my waist and wrestled me down to the floor, laughing.
Of course, listening to him laugh only made me angrier, and being restrained pretty much undid any remnants of control I still pretended to have. I struggled to get away from him and screamed at his apparent amusement. He hadn’t even worked up a sweat keeping me his prisoner on the floor.
‘Are you laughing at me, you Fabio-wannabe?’ It was great to see him be playful, but I wasn’t in the mood for fun and games.
He laughed harder, and then stuck out his lower lip in a pout.
‘Fabio? Is he still around? Surely he must be a senior citizen by now. My dear Kismet, you know very well that the two of us do not resemble each other. My hair is much lighter, my eyes more soulful. I have been told I am much more handsome and desirable than that particular gentleman. In fact, some well-known young European musicians resemble me much more than that over-the-hill cover model.’
Okay, it was a cheap shot. Devereux is more beautiful than most men, a young Fabio included. But what arrogance!
I vainly struggled to get loose. ‘Well, you’re not conceited. Tell me more about how handsome and desirable you are.’
He shifted so he straddled me, still holding my wrists down against the floor. The bright turquoise of his eyes, already noticeably heightened by the colour of his shirt, now radiated a surreal glow, as if his irises were gemstones come alive. Long, pale hair fell across my face and he threw it back with a toss of his head. His signature fragrance wafted through the air and into my nostrils, caressing the pleasure centres of my brain.
It appeared that no matter what else was happening, my attraction to Devereux remained parked at the kerb, motor running.
He locked his gaze on mine. ‘Shall I tell you how beautiful and desirable you are?’
That squeezed some of the juice out of my anger and I forced in a couple of deep breaths to keep my chin from quivering.
Well, I’m just pitiful. One compliment and I regress back to being a needy five-year-old. I must be exhausted. Or seriously screwed up.
Embarrassed by both my erratic behaviour and my sloppy wardrobe, I stared down at my crumpled sweatsuit. ‘Oh yeah, tell me how beautiful I look and how arousing this outfit is, Mr Fashion Model.’
He studied me for a moment. ‘You are indeed beautiful, and if you wish to dress accordingly, I can accommodate you.’ He chuckled. ‘Is it safe to let you up now?’
I snorted and tried to shake him off of me, which made him start laughing again.
How annoying that he has such a great laugh.
‘I will take that as a yes.’ With another burst of his inexplicable speed, he suddenly loomed over me, then reached down to take my hands to pull me up.
The temper tantrum had exhausted most of my remaining energy. I frowned and gave him my hands. ‘What do you mean, you can accommodate me?’
After he assured himself I was up and steady on my feet, he glided over to the bed I’d seen during my first visit to this secret room. Spread out on it were several beautiful evening gowns in various colours and fabrics.
‘I bought you a few gifts.’ He pointed to the dresses. ‘I hope you enjoy them. I would be pleased if you would wear one tonight.’
‘Oh, I see.’ I scraped the bottom of the energy barrel and revved my anger back up again. ‘You have another plan for me to follow? Something else you’ll manipulate me into doing, whether I want to or not?’
‘Absolutely not.’ He flashed a wide smile. ‘If you prefer to wear your charming sweat ensemble, that is perfectly fine with me.’
I glanced down at the baggy sweatsuit again and then over at the silky creations on the bed, and was torn between wanting to touch them and not wanting Devereux to know how much the stunning dresses had captured my interest.
He waited silently while my inner demons wrestled with each other, and I saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly as he fought to suppress a smile. I hated that my emotions and thoughts were so transparent to him.
I mumbled under my breath and inched over to the bed. The gowns were lovely, almost works of art. Even someone with my limited fashion sense could see they were amazing. My eyes were immediately drawn to a shimmering blue garment and I ran my fingers along the soft fabric with a sigh. The dress already felt as if it belonged to me.
‘I love the dresses. They’re beautiful. But I don’t understand why you bought them for me. Where would I wear such things? And it isn’t only the dresses.’ I examined my bare feet. ‘If you’d told me you were going to zap me out of my living room, I would’ve put on shoes.’
He strolled over to an ornate wooden wardrobe, opened the tall doors and pointed to boxes of shoes and drawers of exquisite lingerie. All conveniently in my size, no doubt.
He bowed from the waist, a sweep of his arm indicating the collection as if he was one of those game-show models. ‘I believe we have everything you require.’
What is this? Vampire Cinderella? Should I be flattered or creeped out?
‘Why did you buy all those things for me? And why do you want me to wear them?’
He sat on the corner of the bed near me. ‘You are a beautiful woman. You should adorn yourself with beautiful things. It is appropriate for you to dress for the ceremony.’