The Vampire and the Virgin (10 page)

“I think so,” she whispered. “He can’t find me here.”

“Who?”

She shuddered, then gave Robby an apologetic look. “It’s nothing. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Ah.” He recalled her words from the night before. “I’ve recently heard from an expert that repression can lead

to serious side effects down the road. It can even affect yer physical health.”

Her eyes narrowed with warning.

His mouth twitched. “Perhaps ye should see a therapist.”

She punched him lightly on the arm.

“Och.” He rubbed his arm. “I’ve been traumatized.”

She scoffed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll do therapy for both of us.”

“I’d rather ye hit me again.”

She gave him a playful shove. “It won’t hurt. It’s just a few questions, and you don’t have to answer out loud.”

“Then ye canna know if I’ve answered.”

“You don’t have to answer. Just think about it.” She crossed her arms over her cream-colored jumper. “When I

was interviewing criminals for my master’s, I came up with a list of questions to figure out what makes them

tick.”

“Ye want to interrogate me like a criminal?”

She looked annoyed. “Let me finish. I discovered the average criminal doesn’t have the patience to answer a

long list of questions, especially if there’s nothing in it for him. So I pared it down to three questions. Just three.”

“Let me guess.” He stepped closer. “What’s your favorite color?”

She shook her head, smiling. “Green. Like your eyes.”

His heart expanded. “I like yer eyes, too.”

She blushed. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to distract me.”

“I’ll have to try harder.” He touched her cheek.

She stepped back. “Question number one: what do you want more than anything in the world?”

That was easy.
Revenge.
“Next question?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re already done?”

“Aye. I know what I want.”

She cocked her head, studying him. “It must be very important to you.”

“It is. How did ye answer the question?”

A hint of a smile played on her lips. “If you’re not telling, neither am I.”

“Saucy wench,” he muttered.

Her smile widened. “Question number two: what scares you more than anything in the world?”

Failure to get revenge
. “Done.”

“That was fast.”

“Aye.” He would have revenge on the bastards who had tortured him. They would pay for every blow, every

burn, every break of his bones.

“Okay, then,” she continued. “The last question refers back to the first one about what you want more than

anything. If you succeed, will it make you a better person?”

He stiffened with a quick intake of air. Bloody hell. He turned and stared at the sea. He didn’t want to think

He stiffened with a quick intake of air. Bloody hell. He turned and stared at the sea. He didn’t want to think

about this. He knew his plans weren’t an eye for an eye. They hadn’t killed him, yet he fully intended to kill them.

And what’s more—he intended to enjoy it.

Would it make him a better person? He closed his eyes briefly. It didn’t matter. They deserved to die. They

were evil, and the world would be better off without them.

He curled his hands into fists. He needed revenge. It gave him purpose. It had incited him to recover

physically. With every step he jogged, every weight he lifted, he envisioned himself getting revenge. Killing

Casimir. Killing all the Malcontents who had tortured him, who had watched his pain and humiliation. They all

had to die.

Would it make him a better person? With a groan, he relaxed his hands.
No
.

“Robby?” She touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

He turned to look at her, examine her, memorize every lovely inch of her face. How could she reach so deep

inside him? She made him see things he didn’t want to see. She made him want to be worthy of her. “Olivia.”

“Yes?”

He could hear her heart pounding, her pulse racing, and he ached to touch her. “How can ye be so young and

so wise?”

“I don’t feel wise.” Her face flushed with rushing blood. “I—I can hardly think at all.”

He lay his fingers on her neck and felt the throbbing artery. “I shouldna do this.”

“You mean…touch me?” She sounded breathless. “It’s okay.”

“Lass.” He cupped his hand around the base of her neck. “I’m only getting started.” He pulled her hard

against his chest, leaning over to claim her mouth.

She stiffened with surprise, and he halted a mere fraction away from her lips. Her quick breaths feathered his

skin, making him desperate to taste her.

“Olivia,” he whispered. He was so damned close.

He felt it the minute she surrendered. Her body melted against his. Her eyes fluttered shut. He pressed his

mouth against hers, molding her lips, relishing their soft fullness.

He wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. Even through the thick wool of her jumper, he could feel her

breasts, round and firm. He slanted his mouth, deepening the kiss, coaxing her lips to open.

With a sweet feminine moan, her lips parted, and he teased the small opening with his tongue. She panted,

as if trying to catch her breath, her breasts pushing against his chest. With each push, his groin tightened and

his passion threatened to strip away the last remnant of his control.

“Robby,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheek against his

whiskered jaw.

He kissed a trail back to her mouth, and this time she kissed him back, matching the desperation of his

desire. His heart soared. He invaded her mouth, tasting her with his tongue. She stroked his tongue with her

own, then sucked it.

His groin hardened and pressed painfully against his jeans. He slid his hands down her spine to the

delicious curve at the small of her back, then over her sweet round butt. He splayed his hands and pulled her

tight against his erection.

She gasped against his mouth, breaking the kiss.

“Olivia.” In his vision, her face turned from pink to dark red. He tucked her face against his chest to hide the

red glow of his eyes.

She snuggled against him, breathing shallow and fast. He plucked the strange contraption from her hair, and

the long curly locks fell free. He grabbed a handful and buried his face in it. It was so soft, so silky against his

skin. He willed himself to regain control, a losing battle when he imagined how thick, black, and silky her hair

would be between her legs.

Patience.
He needed to court her slowly and carefully. Good timing would be essential, or he could lose her.

In the distance, he heard a clanging sound. He turned and spotted Olivia’s grandmother standing by the

telescope and banging a large metal spoon against a pot.

“What is that?” Olivia glanced toward the house and winced. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I forgot she was watching.”

Robby stepped back, releasing Olivia, and the clanging stopped. “Apparently, round one is over.”

Olivia turned to him with a shy smile, but it transformed instantly into a frown. “Are you all right? Your eyes

seem a little red.”

With an inward wince, he looked away. “I think some sand blew into them.” He hated to lie, so he quickly

changed the subject. “Do ye want me to take ye home?”

She glanced at her grandmother, then shook her head. “You’ve endured enough interrogation for one

evening. And you should hurry home to wash out your eyes.” The wind swept her hair across her face, and she

shoved it back.

“Here.” He handed her the tortoiseshell contraption he’d removed from her hair, and winced when she

opened the claw. “Bugger, look at the teeth on that thing. It doesna poke holes in yer head?”

With a laugh, she twisted her hair onto the back of her head. “No.”

He moved closer to observe her attaching the claw.

She slanted him an amused look. “Are you worried about my safety?”

He smiled. “I willna let anything harm a hair on yer head. May I see you tomorrow night?”

Her cheeks bloomed pink. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pressed a light kiss against her brow. “I’ll wait here to make sure ye get home safely.”

“Good.” He pressed a light kiss against her brow. “I’ll wait here to make sure ye get home safely.”

“Good night.” She strode back down the beach.

He observed her graceful walk, her hair piled on the back of her head, and her slender, elegant neck. His

gaze lowered to her well-rounded hips, which swayed with every step. He flexed his hands, recalling the feel of

her rump. Thank God the bones in his fingers had healed properly. There were times when a man needed

nimble fingers.

Olivia woke Wednesday morning with thoughts of Robby. She snuggled under the blankets, closed her eyes,

and remembered every delicious detail of the hottest kiss she’d ever indulged in. First he’d pulled her against

him like a man losing control, then he’d hovered over her mouth like a man straining to regain control. His

struggle had excited her, making her want to push him past the brink.

She didn’t need to read his emotions. His desire and passion had been clear with every movement of his

lips and every touch of his hands. He’d shown himself to be bold and demanding with the way he’d pulled her

tight against his erection. Shocking, but so exciting.

She smiled to herself. There was something sweet about Robby, too. Something trustworthy that made her

feel safe, even though her lie detecting skills didn’t work on him.

She was beginning to like the fact that she couldn’t read his emotions. For the first time in her life she’d been

able to kiss a man only feeling her own emotions. Instead of the usual flood of lust pouring out of the guy,

drowning her desires with his needs, she’d only felt herself. Suddenly, it had all been about her. Every shudder,

every tingle, every heart-pounding sensation—it had all come from her. She liked it. She wanted more.

She wanted Robby.

With a sigh, she sat up. She couldn’t call it love. She’d only known the man a few days. She couldn’t fall in

love that fast, could she?

Why not?
An inner voice chided her. Robby MacKay was a gorgeous, sexy, fascinating man.
And he wants

you
. She’d have to be made out of stone not to react to that.

But what if she was simply reacting to his desire? Or maybe she was fascinated with him because she

couldn’t read him. With a groan, she headed to the bathroom. She was overanalyzing again.

Hopefully, her grandmother was no longer angry with her. Last night, after she ’d climbed the stairs to the

courtyard, Eleni had given her a stern look.

“Decent people should be in bed by now,” she’d huffed. Then she’d tramped inside the house to her

bedroom.

Olivia ventured into the kitchen. Her grandmother was sitting at the table, nibbling on bread, olives, and feta

cheese. There was an aura of concern and worry, but no anger that Olivia could detect.

Eleni stood with a smile. “Sit down and eat, child. I’ll fix you a cup of tea.”

“Thanks.” Olivia sawed off a piece of bread, then reached for the pot of honey.

“I went to the bakery early this morning and asked if anyone knew about a house owned by a foreigner on the

other side of Petra.”

Olivia frowned as she drizzled honey on her bread. “You’re checking up on Robby?”

“Of course.” Eleni plunked a cup of tea in front of her. “Don’t you think you should know something about the

man you’re kissing?”

“I know a lot about him.”

“You know his address?”

Olivia bit off a hunk of bread to keep from having to answer.

“I take that as a no.” Eleni sat across from her.

“I know important things about him.”

“Like how much he has in his checking account?” Her grandmother popped a morsel of feta cheese in her

mouth.

Olivia snorted. “He’s employed. And he’s a sweet, considerate man.”

“He was groping you like a…a squid with suction cups attached to your rump.”

Olivia laughed.

Eleni huffed. “I wasn’t making a joke, young lady. You barely know the man, but you were…I hope you don’t

make a habit of behaving like that.”

“I don’t. Believe me. I…I don’t know how it happened. I’ve never gotten so carried away before.”

Eleni’s eyes softened. Obviously, she could tell her granddaughter was telling the truth. “Are you in love with

him?”

Olivia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. I feel very strongly for him, but as a psychologist, I

have serious doubts a person can actually fall in love this quickly.”

Eleni waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s not science. It’s love.”

“There’s a certain amount of science involved,” Olivia protested. “Chemistry, hormones, pheromones—”

“And how are your hormones reacting?”

Olivia winced. “Off the charts.”

“And the chemistry?”

“And the chemistry?”

“Highly combustible. We could provide electricity for half the United States.”

Eleni nodded knowingly. “You’re falling in love.”

“It’s too fast.”

“Then slow it down.”

“We’re leaving for Houston in two weeks.” Olivia drank some hot tea.

“That’s plenty of time. Besides, he can come to Houston, too. He’ll need to if he’s going to ask permission to

marry you.”

Olivia spewed some tea on the table. “Who said anything about marriage?” She grabbed a napkin to wipe up

the mess.

Her grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Surely you’re not intending to live in carnal sin?”

“I just met the man.”