Bite at First Sight (19 page)

Rafe paid the driver and lifted Cassandra from the carriage, his countenance still blazing with fury. As he set her down and led her into the house, a heavy weight of foreboding settled in her belly.

Mrs. Smythe glanced up from dusting a gas lamp, eyes wide with concern as she took in the sight of Cassandra shivering in her sodden clothes.

“Is there a fire built in our bedchamber?” Rafe all but growled.

The housekeeper nodded, still eyeing Cassandra. “Yes,
Don
Villar. Do you require anything else?”

Rafe shook his head. “You may retire for the night. Remind me tomorrow to double your wages.”

Mrs. Smythe froze and blinked at him for a moment before curtsying and bustling away.

Placing a firm hand at the small of her back, Rafe guided Cassandra upstairs. Her knees quaked.

They entered the bedchamber and she sighed in appreciation at the welcoming warmth of the fire.

Rafe slammed the door and jerked her into his arms, claiming her lips in a devouring kiss. Her body melted into his embrace of its own volition, as if
this
was the home she’d been seeking. Cassandra’s legs turned to jelly and she nearly collapsed before he dragged his mouth from hers.

Eyes still burning with unholy wrath, he drew back and lightly stroked her bruised cheek. “
Jesucristo, mujer tonta
! Foolish woman! How could you have put yourself in such danger?”

Before she could answer, he once again pulled her into a fierce embrace and covered her face with kisses. Her breath fled as Rafe clung to her so tightly that she could feel the strong beat of his heart.

A stream of Spanish words poured from his lips between kisses. They sounded like curses. The dichotomy between his words and actions made what little remained of her common sense reel in confusion. The rest of her reveled in his touch and yearned for more.

Still muttering angrily in his beautiful language, Rafe tore off her soaked velvet cloak and shrugged out of his coat. “Turn around,
Querida
.”

“What are you doing?” She felt foolish the moment she asked.

She knew
what
he was doing, but it was the precise
why
that she wished to discern. Was he undressing her to ready her for bed or in preparation for ravaging her? The woman inside her hoped it was the latter.

His tone was turbulent and indecipherable. “I must get you out of these wet clothes before you fall ill and render worthless my efforts to save you.”

Cassandra turned around and had to place her hands on the wall for balance as he attacked the buttons on the back of her gown, resuming his torrent of exotic expletives.

Once he’d removed her damp gown and gone to work on her stays, his ministrations gentled and the words he spoke sounded less like oaths and more like endearments.

Rafe tossed her stays on the carpet and proceeded to rub her arms briskly, bringing comforting warmth to her chilled limbs. In spite of such a practical touch, Cassandra’s loins quivered as if he were doing something far more intimate.

Unable to help herself, she uttered a small cry of protest when he stopped and sank down on his knees to remove her boots.

A wicked smile curved his lips as he reached up under her shift and unfastened her garters. His fingers stroked her bare thighs just above the tops of her stockings. As he slid each stocking down, his mouth brushed across every new inch of exposed leg. Electric sensations raced up her spine.

“You are feeling warmer,
Querida
,” he whispered as he cast the stockings aside.

All she could do was tremble and murmur, “Mmm-hmm…”

“However, you are still shivering. I will have to increase my efforts.” Rafe slowly lifted her chemise, kissing the backs of her thighs, her hips, and even her back and shoulders.

Once she was completely naked, he began to caress her with soft motions. As his strong hands slid up her legs, his fingers just barely grazed the tender flesh of her labia. Cassandra moaned and parted her thighs farther in invitation, but he moved on to her rib cage, his knuckles brushing the undersides of her breasts.

Rafe withdrew one hand and Cassandra glanced over her shoulder to watch him unbutton his shirt. Her mouth went dry as each tantalizing inch of his muscled bronze flesh was revealed.

Then his hot, bare chest pressed against her back, his lips trailing kisses up and down her neck and shoulders. One hand reached around to stroke her breasts, while the other crept down to tease and fondle her throbbing core.

A harsh gasp escaped her lips and she arched forward against his hand. Her sensitive flesh grew slick and hot with need.

Yes, this was what she longed for. As his fingers lightly circled and pinched her nipples, Rafe’s hips moved forward, his hardness pressed against her soft, yielding center. She quivered against him, biting her lip to keep from begging for more.

As if sensing her primal craving, his hand left her breasts to unfasten his trousers, while his other hand continued to work its sweet magic.

Then his hard, hot length touched her core, its tip circling the folds of her sensitive flesh with intoxicating torment. Cassandra moaned and writhed against him until the tip just barely slid inside her entrance.
More. God, please, more.
Her nails scratched the fine mauve wallpaper in her frenzy.

As if reading her thoughts, Rafe’s fingers crept up the back of her neck to tangle in her hair…and he slid inside her a tantalizing inch farther.

His lips grazed her earlobe, sending tingling pleasure through her body as he whispered, “Do you want more of this, Countess?”

“Yes!” she cried, trembling with mindless yearning.

Unable to hide her desperation, she arched her hips to guide him deeper. Every semblance of shame and modesty was abandoned, transposed by all-consuming desire.

Rafe’s hand squeezed her labia, his middle finger flicking wickedly over her clitoris. As he firmly gripped her hair, his rigid shaft slowly penetrated her deeper, inch by tantalizing inch, until he was completely inside her. Cassandra sucked in a breath, awed by the new sensations, the more intense fullness, that this position evoked.

With excruciating slowness, he withdrew, then roughly thrust deeper into her. She cried out and spread her legs farther in unconscious encouragement. He repeated the action, drawing cries and moans she didn’t know she possessed.

“Please,” she gasped, still craving more.

With a fierce growl, he slammed into her with animalistic brutality. The heady scent of his exotic male spice, coupled with the sound of flesh striking flesh, engulfed her consciousness. Never before had she been so utterly and completely taken.

Rafe’s fist clenched tighter on her hair. His fingers danced more rapidly on her clitoris as his turgid cock thrust even faster and harder. The barrier between pain and pleasure blurred into an ethereal translucence, sending her into a frenzied climax that defied the parameters of her awareness.

When her cognition seeped back into the physical realm, Rafe wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, carrying her to the bed. “I am not finished with you.”

Her eyes widened in shock.
Dear
God, can I even handle more?
Before she had time to answer that inner question, Rafe pulled her on top of him, claiming her lips in a savage kiss. Cassandra moaned and nibbled his lip, shifting her hips to guide him inside her.

He shifted so they were both sitting up, which made him go even deeper, touching new places, invoking new sensations. Rafe broke the kiss and bent down to worship her breasts with his mouth. The provocative sight made her even wetter.

She gyrated against him as if in a forbidden dance, panting in excitement as the base of his cock slid across her center. The pleasure built and spread through her body like a raging inferno. Rafe held her tighter, whispering Spanish love words into her ear before scraping his fangs across her neck. Cassandra cried out as the second climax roared through her.

The intense orgasm became overpowering until she could do nothing but cling to him and tremble. Rafe was merciless.

He seized her hips and rocked her faster, sending her even further over the edge of ecstasy. “That’s it,
Querida
.
Madre
de
Dios
, you feel so good.”

Without warning, his fangs plunged into her neck, sending her pleasure into a sharp crescendo. He climaxed with a low growl that vibrated through her being as she felt him pulse within her core.

At last, he withdrew and collapsed on the bed, gathering her into his arms. Panting and boneless, Cassandra rested her head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart. She closed her eyes in awestruck silence at the experience they had just shared.

The things he had made her body feel defied all reason and logic. He had given her pleasure worth dying over. Was it some sort of preternatural ability due to him being a vampire? Or was it a natural phenomenon between certain men and women? Had her late husband shared this with his lover?

As odd as it was, she hoped they had.

Rafe placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, bringing her back to the present. Slowly her muddled thoughts cleared and awareness of her situation returned.

“Rafe,” she began cautiously, “if you’re not going to kill me, and you can’t Change me, then what—”

He cut off her words, pressing a gentle finger to her lips. “Please,
Querida
, let this wait until tomorrow. For now all I want to think about is the pleasure of holding you.”

Warmth flooded her at his words. Cassandra sighed and rested her head on his chest. He did care for her after all…but how much?

As sleep claimed her, his earlier words flitted through her mind.
“I am not going to kill you. Not after what you’ve done for me…”
But he did not say that he loved her.

26 October 1823

Rafe hid a smile as he returned from his evening hunt. He could see Cassandra through the window, pacing the drawing room while waiting for him. She’d still been asleep when he rose for the night, tired and sated from his lovemaking.

He should have known that was not to last.

Anthony chuckled behind him as they headed to the front door. “She looks ready to do battle. I cannot believe you haven’t talked to her yet about her situation. Whatever did you do last night to put it off?” He winked. “And was it worth banishing me for the night?”

“I will not dignify that with an answer.” Rafe shook his head, fighting off seductive recollections of her naked body entwined with his. He sighed and paused with his hand on the door handle. “I still do not know what to tell her.”

His new second-in-command pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. “Perhaps you will have good news for her.”

“One can only hope.”

Rafe glanced at the letter adorned with the seal of the Lord of Blackpool. At nearly three centuries of age, he would be a good, powerful candidate to Change Cassandra. However, Rafe hadn’t spoken with Blackpool in over a decade, so he was also likely to refuse.

Unwilling to relinquish hope just yet, he tucked the envelope in his waistcoat and entered the house.

Cassandra immediately rushed over to him, hands shaking with apparent nervousness. “Are you ready to talk now?”

He laughed softly, though on the inside he was seething in fury at the sight of the bruise on her cheek. “Aren’t you the impatient one? Have you even eaten?”

“Mrs. Smythe brought me a tray.” She gave him a pointed look. “And yes, I am impatient, which I feel is quite justified under the circumstances.”

Rafe inclined his head in mock surrender. “You have a valid point. Very well, let’s adjourn to the study.”

She managed a shaky smile before lifting her skirts and following him.

Once settled in the overstuffed chairs by the desk, Rafe lit a cigar and exhaled slowly. “For a vampire to Change a mortal, the vampire must be at least a century old. It takes a great amount of power and strength. And once a vampire Changes someone, that vampire will not be able to repeat the action for another century.”

Cassandra leaned forward, lush lips parted in rapt fascination. “What happens if they try to Change someone too soon?”

“The mortal will almost certainly die, and the vampire attempting the transformation will be greatly weakened.” Rafe tapped his cigar in the ashtray. “This is why I won’t risk it with you.”

She nodded and frowned. “What
are
you going to do then?”

“I have been writing letters to every vampire that I can call friend.” He held up a hand before the hope in her eyes could undo him. “So far all have refused.” He pulled out the letter and inhaled deeply from his cigar. “We will see what the Lord of Blackpool has to say on the matter.”

Carefully blowing out smoke away from her, Rafe broke the wax seal on the envelope, pulled out the letter, and whispered a silent prayer before he read.

My dear friend Rafael Villar,

It is with my most sincere apologies that I must decline your request. I pray that you will understand.

However, I have heard word of your other problem and am currently departing for London to provide assistance with that matter.

I look forward to renewing our acquaintance, and I have nothing but the best wishes for both issues to be resolved in the best and most efficient manner.

Regards,

Aldric Cadell,

Viscount Thornton

Rafe crushed out the cigar and tore up the letter before tossing it into the fireplace. “Damn it.”

“Another refusal?” Cassandra inquired softly.

He nodded.
Dios
, she was so brave, facing the possibility of her impending death with such serenity. His heart clenched painfully. God help him, he would see that she lived, no matter what the cost.

Another detail from the letter had him frowning in confusion. “It seems the Lord of Blackpool is on his way to help me stand against Clayton and his horde.”

Rafe’s frown deepened. How had Blackpool heard about Clayton’s rebellion? Who had told him and how had
they
found out? Were there spies among his people? If so, who were they working for?

“At least that is good news,” Cassandra ventured. She fell silent a moment before asking tremulously, “What if no vampire will Change me?”

Reluctantly, the words tore from his throat. “Then I will put you on a ship for the Americas where you will be safe.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“I beg your pardon?” Would this woman never cease to stun him?

“For one, I will not leave you.” Her eyes blazed in challenge. “And for another, what will happen to you if you disobey your rulers’ edict?”

“I’ll be punished,” he said plainly. “But you will be safe.” That was all that mattered.

“I won’t go.” She lifted her chin in determination.

He scowled at her stubbornness. How could she cling to such flagrant disregard for her life? “We will discuss this later.”

“Very well.” She folded her arms and leaned back in her seat, refusing to budge. “Then let us discuss the upcoming battle with Clayton. It is good that the Lord of Blackpool has volunteered his aid, yes?”

Rafe nodded. No matter how puzzling Blackpool’s offer was, Rafe couldn’t ignore the fact it was a godsend. “Yes, I will need all the allies I can muster for this confrontation to ensure that there is little bloodshed. Despite half of my people now against me and siding with Clayton, I do not want to hurt them any more than necessary.”

Cassandra placed a warm hand on his. “You are a good leader, Rafe.”

Her sincere words touched him, even though he doubted they were true. If he were a good leader, he never would have allowed Clayton to get so completely out of control…and so many of his people would never have lost faith in him.

He owed his people recompense for these failures. Furthermore, he needed to do everything in his power to see that his people were not hurt. To accomplish that, he would need more than Blackpool at his side.

Rafe opened his desk drawer and withdrew parchment, quill, and ink.

Who could he trust enough to tell them that his territory was facing civil war? Many vampires would see his tenuous grip on his territory as a weakness and interfere in hope of snatching power for themselves.

Only one vampire came to mind. The Lord of Cornwall was definitely one of the most intelligent and honorable vampires Rafe had ever met. Unfortunately, he and Vincent Tremayne had never been on the most amiable terms. Rafe chuckled bitterly. That had been his own fault. When Vincent had come to London seeking aid from Ian and Angelica, Rafe had been nothing but hostile.

Ironically, Rafe had gotten on well with Tremayne’s new bride after Vincent had been forced to illegally Change her and Ian had been forced to place Vincent under arrest until he could face an inquest from the Elders. Rafe had needed to supervise Lydia while Angelica taught her to hunt. He’d been greatly impressed with how well she adjusted to the Change. She possessed almost enough courage and intelligence to match Cassandra’s.

After hearing testimony from Ian, Angelica, and Rafe, Vincent had been exonerated, to everyone’s relief, including Rafe’s. Though he and Vincent hadn’t gotten along, he respected the Lord of Cornwall…and he genuinely liked Lydia.

Perhaps it would be best to contact Lydia first. Rafe shook his head, immediately rejecting the idea. Vincent was unlikely to take kindly to another vampire consorting with his wife. Rafe couldn’t blame him. Glancing over at Cassandra, he lit on an idea.

“
Querida
, do you remember Angelica’s friend Lydia?”

She raised a brow at the change in subject. “Are you speaking of the American who was the Earl of Deveril’s ward before becoming his wife?”

Rafe nodded. That had been a debacle he would not soon forget.

Cassandra eyed him curiously. “Yes, I remember Lydia. A brilliant girl, not the usual featherheaded ninny one expects of a debutante…and her match with Lord Deveril was so romantic.” She paused and frowned. “They are vampires also,
aren’t
they?”

He smiled at her astute conclusion. “Yes, though Lydia wasn’t one of us until Lord Deveril, who is also the Lord of Cornwall, Changed her without permission from the Elders. She’d been attacked by a cutthroat and would have died if he hadn’t.”

“Ah, so that was why Deveril married her.” A note of disappointment tinged her voice.

Rafe answered firmly. “He married her because he loves her.” Shame pricked his soul at how he had at first scorned Vincent for it. He sighed and handed her a piece of parchment. “Anyhow, I would like you to write to Lydia…and I will include a message for Lord Deveril.”

She took the paper and reached for a quill, looking perplexed. “I am happy to do so, but what would you like me to say?”

“Tell her that you are under my care at Burnrath House. That should make it clear that you are privy to our world.” He thought carefully. “And say that you hope she and her husband accept my invitation to stay here for the little season.”

Cassandra dipped the quill. “Are you asking the Lord of Cornwall to help you fight Clayton?” At Rafe’s nod, she continued, “Why are you initiating this request through me?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “I wasn’t exactly the model of kindness during Vincent’s situation with Lydia. If I sent him a letter directly, I would not be surprised if he tore it up unread.”

The corner of her mouth curved in a half smile. “I see. Would you care to elaborate?”

“No.”

Her smile spread as she began to write. Rafe retrieved his own quill, racking his mind about what exactly to say.

Cassandra finished long before he’d penned an opening salutation.

She rose from her chair and walked over to his side of the desk. “Perhaps the words will come better if I leave you in peace.” She kissed him on the cheek and left the study.

After what felt like an eternity, Rafe finally scratched out a few curt sentences. With a sigh, he folded the letter along with Cassandra’s. He had never been known for eloquence.

He sealed the envelope and brought it downstairs for Anthony to deliver.

“What did Blackpool have to say?” Anthony asked as soon as Rafe found him in the library.

He shook his head. “He won’t Change Cassandra, but he said he is on his way here to assist me with Clayton.”

Anthony blinked in surprise. “How did he know?”

“Someone told him, but I haven’t the faintest idea who.” Rafe handed him the envelope. “Could you see that this is delivered to the Lord of Cornwall immediately?”

“Certainly. Do you think he will fight for you? I hear his new bride is a crack shot with a pistol.”

“I do not know.”

Mrs. Smythe entered the room, giving Anthony a curious glance before curtsying to Rafe and presenting a tray holding another letter. “This just came for you,
Don
Villar.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smythe.” After she left, he glanced at the seal with surprise. “It’s from the Lord of Rochester.”

Anthony stroked his chin. “Interesting.”

“Indeed.” Rafe read the letter and smiled. “Well, now I know how Blackpool heard of Clayton’s defection. Rochester must have told him. It doesn’t surprise me that
he
knew. That blood drinker has an uncanny way of getting wind of everything.”

Anthony chuckled. “Which is ironic given his immovable stance of neutrality any time a conflict erupts. So what does he want?”

“He says that he will stand with me but that he will demand a price, later to be named.” He sighed, unsurprised by such a condition.

His second bared his fangs. “Tricky bastard. What will you tell him?”

Rafe shrugged and lit a cigar. “As much as I’d love to tell him to go to hell, I have no choice but to accept. I have plenty of money, and other than my territory and Cassandra, there is little I would be unwilling to relinquish.”