Page 46 of Seph

There was another pause, longer this time, until she finally rasped, “More afraid of losing you.”

Chapter Fourteen

Emily woke up and immediately cuddled back into the strong arms holding her.

Strong arms holding her?

No one had ever held her, not since her mother left.

Simeon. It was Simeon. Because Simeon would do anything for her, and he wouldn’t care if he got hurt in the process. He’d take risks where he was sure he would get burned and smile at the pain.

The way he’d smiled a twisted little grimace when she bumped into him at the Night Market after their fateful kiss, the way they stopped and stared after she ordered him away—and he still smiled first.

More than that. He’d come toward her, hand out, a paper cup of coffee offered up to her. “Here.”

Just one little word. A quiet welcome, even after she’d thrown him out.

“You’re pretty unselfish for an evil guy, aren’t you?”And pretty. Pretty, pretty vampire.

“I thought you were awake. Good morning to you, too.” Simeon’s voice was low and soft in her ear, confusing her. It was sending “Gimme, gimme” vibes to her lady parts and comforting ones to her brain. If she had intended to sleep and pull herself out of the lustful mire of last night in the calm light of day, she had failed. Sexy and comforting was lethal catnip to her common sense.

“Morning.” Emily held still, not sure what to do next. She’d never been in bed with a man, never woken up beside one.

Her father, training her to look for a reliable mate to produce the next of the Van Helsings, had once told her she’d have to marry eventually, although he spoke of marriage with disdain, just another tool in their arsenal. Marriage meant reliable partners. Marriage meant someone to help with survival so the hunt could continue.

He told her men would want her for one thing.

In her head, she’d developed an aversion to touch while simultaneously craving it, a fear of intimacy while worrying she’d never experience it.

I don’t know what to do...

Emily licked her dry lips and pushed herself up on one elbow. Simeon rolled onto his back and looked up at her, arms crossed behind his head as he stretched. “Vampires don’t get morning breath.”

“No. And you don’t have it, either. You smell sweet as a daisy, so you can stop backing away from me like I’m going to cover my nose and act all dainty.”

She stopped moving.

I have a week, maybe the last week ever, with Simeon.

Maybe the only chance in the world to conquer my fears with someone I know doesn’t want to hurt me—as odd as that sounds.

But this can’t be our only chance, especially not if I—if we...

I have to make sure this isn’t the last week. Plan, fight, find!

And remember everything else you said last night?She blushed to remember her fevered ramblings.

“Go back to sleep. We’re gonna have to hit wherever good ol’ Uncle Zeus hangs out, and anywhere in the US, it’s daylight. It’ll be hours until we can travel. Go to sleep.”

She nodded and tried. Simeon tried. He closed his eyes. She peeped at him when she opened hers.

Once, they caught each other peeking at the same time. “Can’t you sleep? Hungry?” Simeon asked.

“No, but... you must be.”

When had the idea of getting bitten become erotic? Maybe because she knew it came with blood and violence, and that was more familiar than love and softness.

She knew biting. She knew the fight, the growl, and the moment of pain that made her woozy. Was there a moment past that one, one that led to pleasure?

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