Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) (25 page)

No decisions tonight. Just get a little sleep. Maybe get up early and feed. Back to that again. One thing had not changed, at least. There were still probably plenty of bad guys out there who deserved to die. Perhaps some of her revenge could taste sweet after all.

Her cell phone rang. She picked it up. Monika. That meant Robert. Good for him. Glad at least he has someone to share his life with.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey, I thought I was just going to leave a message for you. You sound not so far away. You back from Healdsburg?”

This actually caused Anne to smile. Her first genuine smile. She surprised herself.

“Yes, I’m in the house tonight.”

“Uh, Anne, I kind of know you have a new guy. Can’t say as I blame you. So, I was wondering, would it be okay if Monika and I move into the house?”

“Sure, Robert.” So he had heard, after all. Well, thank God for small favors. She wasn’t upset. No reason to tell him “the guy” was in Robert’s league. No sense giving him that satisfaction.

“Gee, Anne. You’re being really great about this. Monika says thanks. And she’s really sorry too about how all this went down.”

“Yeah, Robert, I bet she is.” Anne shook her head. She partly blamed herself. Her own twisted logic created a world where Robert never belonged. So now he was reverting to the person he was meant to be, with the person he was meant to spend his life with. Things were going to work out just the way they should.

“Well, honey. You have a good rest. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow. You don’t have to rush on moving things out. Just get to it when you can. She still has three weeks left on her rent here at the apartment, and we’re fine here until, until, until you’re ready, okay?”

“Have a nice evening, Robert, and you too, Monika.” She knew her ex-maid of honor was listening to every word.

Anne set the phone down on the dresser, next to the burgundy candle. She brought the votive to her nose. Why did she think it wouldn’t smell so sweet?

She decided to unpack and then finally return to bed.

When she unzipped the larger bag, there was a letter with her name on it in Marcus’s handwriting, lying on top of the neatly folded clothes. She sucked in breath at the sight of it, then quickly rezipped up the bag. No way was she going to read that until she had some decent sleep and a good feeding. Wouldn’t be fair to her.

She set the leather bag on the floor, next to the smaller bag. She pulled back her comforter, pouring herself into the creamy linens that smelled of lavender. Finally surrounded by her own environment she fell asleep, with the faint acknowledgement she would have to wash the sheets tomorrow to remove the traces of his scent.

She never wanted to smell it again.

First thing she saw when she woke up in the morning was the dark form of another vampire standing at the foot of her bed.

Praetor.

Chapter 22

Anne wasn’t about to let Praetor make the first move. He’d already let himself into her house,
into her bedroom,
without permission. That in itself was crossing an invisible line. Although numb from the long plane ride and the fretful night of sobbing herself to sleep, a tiny ounce of self-preservation remained.

At least she still felt
something
.

Fear.

Pulling the covers to her neck, she wondered how long he had been there. What had he witnessed?

She knew Marcus could trace, and had half expected he would come to check on her from time to time, though she had asked him not to. Perhaps he had sent Praetor in his place.

Was the handsome golden vampire standing at the foot of her bed here to protect her, or help her forget? He was a completely unknown element in an already complicated life. The reality of finding a new place to live, a job, and some means of going on without Marcus suddenly hit her, bringing tears to her eyes. Did he see?

He smiled.

Can he read my mind?
His eyes said no. She needed to figure out Praetor’s intentions. Could she trust him? But if Marcus had not sent him, what was he here for? What would the rules of engagement be?

But still the most important question of the morning was the one hardest to figure out. What did
she
want? Did she want another friend, someone to take her mind off Marcus? Or did she want to be left alone to figure out everything on her own? Exhausted from the emotional pain she’d been suffering, she didn’t have an answer. That put her at a distinct disadvantage with this handsome, sexual being who clearly had given her signals before he was interested in doing more than escorting her into the arms of her then love, or watching her eyes in an exam room.

Careful. Must be very, very careful.

She was not about to make the same mistake she made the first time she’d met a large alpha male vampire.

“Under the circumstances, I’m not sure if I should say good morning to you, or throw something at you. I’ve given you neither permission, nor encouragement to just show up when you feel like it.” Anne tried to sound disinterested and strong, but she heard the waver of her words as they crashed together.

This struck him, and he yielded a crooked grin and gave a slight nod of his head. “Then
I
will say it. Good morning, Anne.”

“What made you think I would welcome you here without asking?”

“Your need.”

He said it like he had whispered the words into her ear as she rested on a pillow in a soft bed after a night of lovemaking.

“I think you are mistaken.” Although her pulse had quickened, she understood part of it was plain fear. She did not want to be hurt, and right now she was vulnerable.

“Oh? I believe you need to feed, my dear. Why, what were you thinking?” He smiled again. This time, she felt her cheeks flush.

Far too confident.
Her stomach pitched and growled, feisty and temperamental. Her mouth was parched. She swallowed and watched his dark form as he stood motionless, awaiting her instructions. His total focus was on her eyes, except for one glance down to a space underneath the covers where her breasts lay covered. Had he been able to see them?

Or could he?

Or worse yet, did he?

“If you came to offer yourself as a meal, you could have picked up a phone and called me. Or slipped a note under my door.”

“True. I prefer to do it
this
way.”

“Well, I don’t. You are acting like you got an invitation I did not extend. Am I clear?”

“Quite. Now, would you like to feed?” He began unbuttoning his shirt.

Anne found herself inhaling, her eyes wide with shock at the sight of him baring his neck and upper chest to her. She could not help but lick her lips at the sight of his large pulsing vein. She got the impression he would be tempting her with it all morning, until she partook. He waited again, his dark eyes boring into her flesh, bringing out a warmth in her chest that caused her to perspire. She could smell him, the muskiness the younger males had. He didn’t smell of lemons, like Marcus. He smelled like the wind.

“I will not ravish you. You may feed without worry. Come, I think your lack of nourishment is clouding your judgment.” He held his hand out to her.

She found herself reaching out to take his fingers. He pulled her toward him. She walked on her knees as he guided her to the end of the bed. With a slip of his hand around the small of her back, he brought her to stand. He stepped back, took an appraisal of her body beneath her gown, then grabbed her fingers and led her to the living room. He did not let her go as he sat in her leather couch. His eyes asked her to join him there, while his fingers entwined in hers. He was not going to pull, but he did not release her hand, either.

She sat crossways on his lap, suddenly conscious of the closeness of his mouth, his strong jaw, and his chest open and waiting. Her hair touched him just underneath his chin on her way to his neck and he groaned, tensing slightly. His hands lay on the couch, palms up. He did not try to touch her as she bit into his neck and took the sweet elixir he offered.

She stopped, just to make sure she could. He exhaled, and then inhaled deeply when she reapplied her lips and drew more of him. One hand came up to her back involuntarily, and after grazing the satin fabric of her nightgown lightly, fell back to the couch.

She withdrew, leaning forward as her tongue finished the remnants of his blood on her lips, her eyes closed.

It did not feel the same.

Then she realized she was not fated to him. A huge sense of relief came over her. The immediate sexual energy she received from Marcus’s blood was not present now. She was sated, but she was not hungry for sex with Praetor.

He brushed her hair from her eyes, untangling it behind her neck. He left his long probing fingers there, rubbing the muscles at the top of her shoulders, which felt wonderful. She had been so tense. She turned to look at his face, finally. He spoke first.

“So beautiful, so delicate. Do you feel better now?”

She had to admit, she did feel vital, full of life suddenly. “Praetor Artemis . . .”

 “Just Praetor, please. And I desire to call you Anne.”

He touched her chin, raising it a bit, but he did not kiss her. She was not sure she liked the possessiveness of his actions. Was every unattached vampire female his for the taking? She supposed this was something to do with his status.

“I’m sure you would not have appeared here, were it not for the fact that Marcus and I, Marcus and . . .” Anne could not bring herself to say it. She found her eyes welling up with tears.

He pulled her head to his chest, then patted her shoulder as she sobbed into the smooth flesh of his chest. She could not help it. The well of sadness opened in her soul and she just could not stop.

“I know, Anne. I know how you love him.”

She sat up and looked at his eyes. They were still smiling down at her. He traced a forefinger across her lips.

“Yes, my dear. I know of your pain. I have felt the same.”

“You do?” This did surprise Anne, after all.

“I have experienced loss, although not quite the same circumstance. My pain is in never having met my fated female. I grieve for a love I have yet to feel. So you see, you are much more experienced than I.” He smiled as he stroked the sides of her cheek with the back of his fingers.

Anne felt she could trust him. She lay her head against his chest again and let him hold her, this time without her tears. His arm rubbed hers up and down through the fabric of the white gown. She was struck with his sense of tenderness and concern.

“Maybe we can help each other fill the loneliness, the void in our lives, just for a time.”

Anne thought about that. A little warning bell went off in the back of her mind. But try as she could to honor her doubts, she was beginning to trust him. Within reason.

“Praetor, I have to tell you something.”

“Go on.” His voice was smooth as velvet. His hand movements did not change.

“When I fed from you, I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel anything for you sexually.” She drew back to look at his full face, looking deep into his dark eyes.

“Nor did I,” he whispered. “Although I was hoping I would. I really thought I would.”

So it was decided. Praetor would help her get situated. He would be a loyal and true friend, help her with money and teach her things about tracing and what the capabilities and limitations of her new life were, things Marcus was unable to do because of the distraction of their fating.

She took a job at Starbucks. Praetor had insisted he pay for the rent on the new apartment she found. It was brand new. Marcus had never been there. Nothing about the new place reminded her of either Robert or Marcus. It was hers and hers alone.

Praetor spent the night half the time. He never asked for her intimacy. They went to movies together. He learned to drive the green bomber, something he seemed to delight in.

“You never learned to drive a car?” she asked one day as they rode through the countryside on their way to St. Helena.

“Why drive when you can fly?” he asked. “And now you can too.”

“Barely,” she said. She was getting better. She had traced herself once into a treetop and had gotten stuck in the branches. He’d arrived shortly to release her from her bondage. But he teased her about her broom handle being bent.

“So you think you will ever find your fated female?”

“Perhaps she was born and died before I ever got to meet her. It happens. Some never find their true mates.”

“Do some people marry without the fating.”

“Pretend? Play house?”

“Yes.”

“When the sexual chemistry is strong enough. Sure.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Tell me you’d like to try this, my dear.”

Anne delighted in his joy. But she didn’t want to ruin their friendship by sleeping with him. “If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”

Two weeks into their arrangement, she finally began to feel settled. The pain in her heart was dulling by the day. She was grateful nothing in her life reminded her of Marcus or Italy. Praetor was sometimes gone for days at a time, but he never brought up any family business, never mentioned his communications with Marcus, if he had any.

When he returned, she welcomed him like a brother.

They laughed in private when Robert thought Praetor was her new beau. It was just easier to let him think that. No way would he understand.

Never was there the hint of sex between the two of them, though they took long walks down by the water, holding hands. The strong arm he frequently slipped over her shoulder or around her waist was comforting. Anne loved the fresh man-scent of him and the timbre of his voice as she listened to him speak—even when he was whispering. His presence made her tingle all over, but not in a sexual way. She was healing.

Anne could see herself being his sexual partner, though unfated. But he never offered himself to her again or suggested it, even in jest. Her life was beginning to return to a satisfying normalcy.