Page 52 of Taken By The Vampire King

My blood.

I wanted her to come to me willingly, but maybe she never would. And that made this world unsafe for her. I rested my head back against my chair and stretched my legs out ahead of me, crossing them at the ankles.

It didn’t need to be this difficult. And it wouldn’t be if I just bit her. I could actually just bite her. I tilted my head as I mused on that. I wouldn’t be able to continue as king if I forfeited her willing participation, but Leia would be safe from those looking to challenge me.

And she’d be mine.

Chapter 15

Leia

I woke cranky, my throat sore, tangled in my sheets. I’d clearly had a restless night, and not for a good reason. Despite myself, my traitorous thoughts pictured Nicolas Dupont tangled in the sheets with me, his limbs heavy as they rested over mine, pinning me to the bed with lazy possessiveness.

I shook my head then rolled over and screamed into my pillow. That infuriating man. He didn’t belong in my head, dangerously close to my fantasies.

But the memory of the way he’d touched me…the way my body had responded to him and how my name sounded spilling from his lips as he encouraged me higher. It had all been a very dazzling spell.

I lifted my head to inhale to scream again, but a soft knock at the door stopped me.

“Miss Boucher?” Nicolas’s voice was soft this morning. Not quite contrite but more hesitant than I was used to.

And I was back to being Miss Boucher. Of course. But that was for the best. I needed out of this ridiculous contract. If all Dupont parties ended in me being scared out of my mind, a month was going to be a very long time.

But I still wanted my house. And I wanted my bar. And I was fucking well going to get them.

I huffed and flopped on my back.

“Miss Boucher?” His voice came again, slightly louder this time.

“I’m sick. I just need to rest.” My voice was sleep swollen and croaky enough to throw weight behind my claim, but I sensed him hesitate before he spoke again.

“I need to go to La Pet—” He broke off. “The casino,” he said, like he couldn’t force out the full name any more than I wanted to hear those words. Too many memories of his skillful fingers came flooding back. He hesitated again like he expected a reply before his next words came more muffled, like he’d rested his forehead against the door between us. “I’ll have someone check on you.”

For the next few moments, I just waited in silence, barely even breathing, like he might hear my thoughts if he was still standing too close. And outside my bedroom door was definitely too close when all of my thoughts were about to consist of how to sneak places I wasn’t meant to go in his house.

After the treasures I’d seen last night, coupled with the behavior of his brother, it was clear that the Duponts were obviously rich and without morals, which suggested some degree of criminality. And when I linked that with the stylists strange talk about rules, the coded language they seemed to use…was I in some sort of mafia territory? Organized crime in Baton Rouge? It didn’t seem possible, yet here I was. Considering it.

Maybe even starting to believe it.

After all, what more perfect place to mastermind a criminal enterprise from than a casino full of undesirables? And a notorious one…where even the name conjured hot memories.

I groaned. I needed to get my head out of the gutter. And I needed to find something against Nicolas Dupont that would have him forgetting our contract or tearing it up or setting it on fire just to be rid of me.

And that evidence was most likely in his locked wing.

So that was where I needed to go.

I tugged the comforter over myself and made myself into a human cinnamon roll. I’d wait until I knew Nicolas had really gone and things had quieted down.

There was another small knock at the door, and Emma appeared with a tray of food. “The master said for me to bring your breakfast to you this morning. How are you feeling now?” Her voice was quiet, sympathetic, and I withheld a sob that threatened to work its way up my throat. Pity always undid me. “Chef sent some more beignets and one of his special hot chocolates.”

I murmured a noise that she could interpret any way she wanted and prayed for the low growl of my stomach not to betray me. I couldn’t eat the food. I needed them to think I was truly sick.

Emma sighed a little and slipped from the room, and the tray was still exactly where she’d left it when Jason appeared a short while later.

“How are you feeling?” Even he kept his voice low, and I longed to be deserving of the care and respect these people showed to someone they thought was sick. “Can I get you anything?”

Hmm. That was a question I hadn’t expected from Nicolas’s bodyguard. But I needed him to leave the house so I could ensure he wasn’t hanging around outside my door, still on his ridiculous guard duty. Only possibly not so ridiculous today because he really needed to be on guard against my behavior rather than doing the usual thing of protecting me.

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