Page 4 of The Pureblood Princess
“And this bond,” Nadia says, stepping gently over the soft earth, her bare toes pressing into the dirt, “does it ever go away?”
Perhaps Theodore hears the worry in her voice, because he stops and turns her abruptly to face him. “Never,” he says, his tone unwavering. He lifts her chin and stares deep into her eyes.“As long as my heart beats, it does so for you. Nothing will ever change that.”
Tears well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. A mix of pleasure and relief washes over her, and its only outlet is through weeping.
“Draga,” he whispers, the foreign word twisting beautifully around his tongue. He pulls her into his chest, holds her tight against him, and she cries in his arms, clutching his overcoat in her fists.
This man ishers, and he always will be.
Chapter Two
Nadia and Theodore ride backto the estate, Theodore’s owl, Celeste, soaring overhead. When they arrive, they find two carriages waiting in the courtyard. Each is pulled by four flaxen chestnut horses, their coats gleaming red and their manes and tails a creamy golden white. Theodore stops short, and Nadia does the same, slowing Octavia as she glances at him for an explanation.
He tips his head back slightly and takes a deep breath. A moment later, his face darkens.
“The Kazamirs have arrived,” he says, his jaw tense.
Nadia barely keeps a scowl from her face. Since her first meeting with Honora Kazamir, the woman has been an ever-present nuisance. She seems to spend half her time preening before mirrors and the rest of her time attempting to seduce Theodore—preferably while Nadia watches. The very thought makes Nadia’s blood simmer. At least Honora’s family has finally come to take her home. The estate will be a much more amicable place without the golden-haired beguiler lurking about, ready to stab Nadia in the neck or lure Theodore into her bed.
“We should go around the back,” Theodore says, turning Castro around. His gaze shifts to Nadia, and she feels his eyes on her bare feet and tangled hair.
“Am I not acceptable, my lord?” she asks, tipping her head and arching a dark brow.
His lips pull up in a sideways smile, and she wishes they could gallop back to the forest and pick up where they left off. No amount of time spent in his arms will ever be enough.
“You’re perfectly acceptable. It’s only that Lord Kazamir is always looking for something to nettle me about. You being out with me, no chaperone in sight, would give him much to say indeed. I’d rather not fuel his fire—or his wife’s gossip.”
Nadia presses her lips together and nods once, turning Octavia gently to follow along with Theodore’s gelding.
It’s easy to forget about rules and etiquette here. Out in the country, they live without constant eyes on them, and the noose of propriety loosens, if only slightly. With the Kazamir family here, however, that rope is sure to tighten. Bare feet and absent chaperones are no longer acceptable.
They ride around the back of the sprawling estate, to where the stables and rolling paddocks are. A family of black Friesians grazes in a green pasture, and when Nadia dismounts and sets Octavia loose with the herd, the silver-haired Arabian appears as a dove in an unkindness of ravens. Theodore takes a moment to remove Castro’s tack, then releases him into the paddock. The herd greets the returned arrivals, and after some nickering and nose bumping, they wander off to continue their grazing beneath the moody gray sky.
Standing beside Theodore, her bare toes curling into the cool wet grass, Nadia sighs.
“They won’t be here long, will they?” she says quietly, knowing all too well that vampires have a keen sense of hearing.
“Are you saying you don’t wish to spend the holiday with Miss Kazamir?” Theodore says, feigning surprise. “And here I thought you were becoming the best of friends.”
“Only if friends tear each other’s hair out,” she grumbles, casting her gaze about the many windows on the back side of the manor. Though she sees no flash of gold lurking in a window, it would not surprise her in the least if Honora was watching.
And so, for good measure, she rises onto her tiptoes and presses a delicate kiss against Theodore’s cheek. He smells of earth, salt, and what she’s come to know as the scent of sex. She hopes Honora sees them and seethes at the sight.
“Until we meet again,” she whispers.
He bends to bring his lips close to her ear. “Every moment away is a moment too long.”
Theodore lifts a strand of Nadia’s dark hair and twirls it about his finger, making her remember how his hand tangled in her hair when they first kissed beside the lake in Everborough. It was the night he first showed her what he was, and she ran from him, told him to stay away from her, not to touch her.
The memory makes her stomach clench uncomfortably. What if he’d listened to her? What if he’d not come for her that night Lord Gray locked her in her room? Would they be here together, or would she still be stuck in the life Lord Gray fabricated for her? Thinking of her life without Theodore in it makes her feel as if a void has opened in her chest, and she has to remind herself once more that he’s here, he’s real, and he’shers.
Still twirling that lock of hair around his finger, he looks down at her with an arched brow. He must not have shaved this morning, for his jaw is shadowed, and Nadia reaches up to brush her fingertips over his stubble. Despite the satisfaction he gave her amidst the trees, a longing for him rises up in her once more, and she wants to curl her hand around the back of his neck and pull him in so she can taste his tongue.
Before she can succumb to her desires, she pulls away, tears her eyes from Theodore’s verdant gaze, and makes her way swiftly to the back entrance. She glances over her shoulderbefore slipping inside, and Theodore is still standing there, smiling, his very essence almost enough to draw her back. With a quick shake of her head, she closes the door and takes a steadying breath.
It’s still morning, and the Rosettis have thus far demonstrated a preference for waking later in the day than Nadia is used to. The Gray household used to rise early, but now Nadia often finds herself awake before the maid has even come to rouse her. That is not the case today, however.
The servants are already up and moving about, likely tending to Clan Kazamir, and a savory scent drifts through the halls from the kitchen. Nadia is mindful to keep her bare feet quiet on the rugs and hardwood floors as she traverses the manor, and she makes it to her room without being spotted. Slipping silently inside, she leans back against the door and looses the breath she was holding.
