Page 16 of Kept 3
“Well? What is this surprise?”
“I’m sorry you couldn’t join me for dinner,” he says quietly, “but I understand you were exhausted.”
“Yes, but I don’t appreciate you hovering outside my window, perving on me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard. That’s twice now I’ve seen your face at the window while I’ve been getting out of the bath – if you are so dead keen on seeing me naked, just say so.”
“I can assure you, Josephine,” he frowns, his voice serious, “I definitely do want to see you naked, but,” he holds up his hand to forestall my abuse, “I am not in the habit of lurking outside ladies’ windows. I might also remind you that your room is three storeys up.”
“I know that,” I frown, “I thought maybe you could fly.”
His laughter echoes around the room.
“Well,” I throw my hands into the air, “you make people cum with a word, and pop heads off like corks, who the hell knows what you are capable of.”
When he has finally finished laughing, he shakes his head at me.
“I cannot fly. If you are sure you saw something at your window, it was most likely an owl. We have rather large barn owls here; they have big, round, white faces and large eyes. Perhaps that is what you saw.”
“I don’t think so,” I frown.
He cocks his head to one side and considers me momentarily, before switching the subject.
“Are you the only woman on earth who is not excited when a man says he has a surprise for her?”
I shrug, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, try to contain your enthusiasm,” he mutters dryly.
“Alright, what is it?” I roll my eyes.
“I have a chef for you.”
“Here?”
“Of course.”
“But if I can’t work with him or her, you’re not going to,” I pause and hold up two fingers, curled in front of my lips to symbolise fangs, “you know.”
Seeing my expression, he bursts out laughing again, a raucous, infectious sound that bounces around the room. I imagine this ominous room hasn’t seen much laughter in its long history.
Recovering, he shakes his head.
“No, I’m not going to,” he bares his fangs and grins.
I frown and shrink back, wiping the grin from his face. I’ve never seen his fangs before, and now that I do, every atom in my body is screaming – run!
“Does this frighten you,” he asks, suddenly serious, his fangs still showing, just slightly behind his lips.
“Yes.”
“I assure you; I would never hurt you, Josephine. When I bite, you will only feel pleasure.”
“I don’t want you to bite me,” I whisper, “not ever.”
He frowns and turns from me, running his hands through his thick hair.
