She freezes before whipping me with her hair when twisting towards me. “Are you afraid of water?” Her lips spread in a slow smile, like she’s figured out all my secrets.
I stare at the space she’s created between our bodies like it, too, is another secret I can’t decipher. While temperature doesn’t bother me, she was warm. A kind of warmth Ididfeel…and I want to again.
So as I talk, I tug her back, and she resettles without comment. “Vampires are not cats, so no, I’m not afraid of water. Had I been on the Titanic, I would have lived no matter if I made it into a lifeboat or not. But I’ve always preferred having the land beneath my feet and not restricting myself to ships, or even air transportation.”
She leans her head against my shoulder and laughs. “You know, you’re not so bad, vampire. I still don’t like you, and I still think you should go home and forget all this Bride stuff…but you’re not so bad either. When you’re not out to murder me, that is.”
“You’re not so bad either, Sinclair.” It’s disturbing that I mean it. Before Harlow twists back around, I drop a kiss onto her forehead, resting my lips against her warm skin for a moment and drinking in all she is. It’s a touch more tender than I’ve ever given another being, but it feels like I need to. Maybe it’s the location, her feelings that have gone from upset to calm, or maybe it’s my own craving to be close to her.
I do know it isn’t the bond.
She melts under my touch, and I can’t help but stroke the skin beside her eyes, murmuring, “Once I would have killed anyone with eyes like yours. Now, I find myself enthralled by them.”
“Nice try. You’re pulling out centuries of sweet-talking women to try to get me to accept the bond.”
I wish that were the case.I keep that to myself and instead make light of it. “Is it working?”
She only winks before glancing towards the window, the old, faded-pink curtain pushed to the side. The moon is full above, a precedent of the ceremony she’s about to have.
“What time is it?”
I slide my phone from my pocket. “Ten.”
“Then I have at least an hour more.” She glances around the room before staring at the door. “I should probably finish looking around this place.”
“You don’t have to. If it hurts, it’s not worth it.”
“That’s the thing, it doesn’t hurt. It’s just…I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It feels empty, if that makes sense. Everything here is unrecognizable. The child who once slept in this room was a different version of me. Someone innocent and happy, who had the world. I should feel sad about not remembering the people who slept down the hall. Instead, I’m confused.”
I sweep a hand over the back of her neck, gathering her hair on one side and allowing my fingertips to trace her skin. It’s getting increasingly difficultnotto touch her. “You have no memories of this place or your parents. I think it’s natural you’re not sure what to feel.”
“Says the guy who can’t feel anything.”
“Never said I can’t feelanything. Besides, it’s simply logic. You feel like youshouldbe sad, but it’s hard to be upset over something you can’t recall.”
She makes a noise in her throat, pulling her legs in closer. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the ceremony will help. Morgan says she has a plan to get my memories restored. Or, at least, enough so I have some image of the past.”
“You’re perfect how you are, Hellion. Memories or otherwise.”
She doesn’t reply to that, and I don’t push her to say anything more. My touch continues over her back, tracing imaginary designs while fingering the ends of her hair. It becomes a game of pushing her hair to the side and watching it swing back towards me.
After another twenty minutes, her head falls onto her knees. I listen for a sob or the feeling of grief to finally hit her, but only find contentment.
My Bride is pleased.And that’s enough for now.
Another few minutes pass before she sighs. “Feels good.”
“It’s meant to.”
Without lifting her head from her knees, she turns her head. “Thanks for this, I guess. Even if Morgan gave me a key, I’m not sure I would have done this. Especially not alone.”
“My pleasure.”
She watches me. “You mean that.”
“I don’t often say things I don’t mean. You’ll learn that eventually.”
Her spine decompresses into my hand as I continue petting the back of her neck and down, completing loops until she sighs again, this time in resignation.