Page 152 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“I’m not here because of you.” But the accompanying huff belied the truth, and we both knew it. In fairness, if I knew where she hung out—when she wasn’t checking up on me—I’d be inclined to do the same.

But I smirked nonetheless. “Why are you here?”

“I live here,” she said through gritted teeth, still not stepping back, still not putting distance between us.

“In the library?” I lashed my tongue over my lower lip, and her eyes followed the movement. “Or were you looking for me?”

My words snapped something, and she bolted backward, away from me, away from her lips. But the distance did nothing but make the tension stretch taut between us. She sucked in a ragged breath. “The Court is full of vampires.” Her lip curled at the thought. “I needed somewhere quiet.”

“Is that why you’re dressed for The Third Rite?” I asked, stepping closer, needing to be closer.

Her eyes flicked up to mine, dark and molten like the lingering ashes of a fire. “It’s my duty. I’m not there to participate.”

“You’ll draw attention wearing this,” I warned in a whisper, fiddling with the lace cap of her sleeve. “Are you sure you aren’t looking for a match?”

She shuddered as if she felt the fingers on her skin, not on her gown, but her eyes remained locked on mine. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

“Is that an invitation?” I asked, my breath warming the skin of her neck.

“No,” she breathed, but her eyes fluttered shut, betraying the lie in her words.

My lips ghosted across her throat. So soft. How soft was the rest of her? I groaned. “Liar.”

“I’m not interested in a male who hides behind books,” she hissed even as her head fell back, exposing more of that glorious throat.

I licked the column, along the scar that ran along—the scar that sent my guts clenching as I wondered who had touched her, hurt her, scarred her. If I ever found out...they would suffer. “I’m not hiding,” I snarled, breathing her in. I took her chin and guided her face to mine. My nose brushed hers, and our breathing synced. “I’m right the fuck here, Lia.”

“You don’t know me,” she murmured, those molten eyes never leaving mine. “If you did...”

“Show me.” She tried to look away, but I gripped her chin more tightly. “Do you think you can scare me?”

“I know I can.”

“Try,” I dared her.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip and then parted, poised to speak. The door to the library creaked open, and we startled apart as Julian entered the room, holding two shallow black boxes.

“There you are.” His eyes skirted from me to her, to the distance between us, to the blush staining her cheeks. “Am I interrupting?”

Yes, you dick. But I shrugged and tossed him a casual grin. “Lia stumbled upon me in the library. Quite accidentally. I was explaining to her that I was helping you and Thea with something.”

Hurt flashed through her eyes. “What are you searching for? You can’t still be searching for information on the curse.”

Julian met my eyes and finally nodded his permission to tell her.

“The Queen-killer,” I whispered.

“Why?” Horror coated her face.

“Because we think it killed Ginerva, and if it exists, Thea isn’t safe,” Julian cut in.

But she shook her head. “The Queens hid it after her death for their own safety.”

“Is it what killed her?”

Lia’s eyes pinched at the corners. “I don’t know. Zina found her. They believed her death was a result of the curse’s chokehold on magic.”

“But her death destabilized magic,” I said.

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