Page 41 of Kept 3
“Well, we can’t know if this is true or not,” he murmurs, raising his eyes once more to mine and sending a thrill through me with their intensity.
He moves to rise, but I hold his hand tightly.
I know I will want children in the future, perhaps when I’m 30 or so. But knowing I do have a future, that he will set me free, suddenly makes me realise that I don’t want to go, not for now, at least.
“Nicholas,” he turns and looks down at me, his eyes, I notice, are pained, as smiling sadly, he leans down and presses his lips gently to mine, as he did the very first time he kissed me. Desire flames in my belly, desire and a need for him, stronger than I have ever felt, and I wrap my arms around his neck and open my lips to his.
“Josephine, no,” he says gently, pulling away.
“You said you could feel what I feel, once I had your blood,” I whisper, looking up at him, my hands on his shoulders, my eyes meeting his, “what do you feel, Nicholas?”
He stares at me, blanching, his eyes searching my face.
“You love me,” he whispers.
“I think I do,” I murmur, “does this mean you will kill me now, my vampire master?”
“I am not your master,” he says, his eyes scanning my face, “I am your slave.”
With an intensity I have only dreamed of, he grips my head in his hands, and claims my lips, and I drag him onto the bed, onto me and match his force with my own as I pull his shirt apart, making his buttons pop off just as he did my dress so many nights ago, my body afire with need for him.
“Wait, wait,” he pulls away from me as I growl, holding him tight, “I will bite you.”
“What?” I still, the world coming back into focus.
“When we, when we make love,” he closes his eyes briefly before looking back down into mine, “I will bite.”
I frown at him. I don’t want that, even now. Even with lust taking over every other rational thought, this one is crystal clear, especially after Elsbeth’s bite. It hurt like hell. I hated it. I never wanted to be bitten like that again.
My silence speaks volumes, and he slowly rises from the bed and smiles gently at me, his eyes full of sadness.
“What are we going to do?” I whisper.
He shakes his head and looks to the window. The dawn is upon us. He has to go.
“Dine with me tonight?” he asks gently.
I nod, tears beginning to slip down my cheeks. We both know I still can’t stay.
“Yes.”
11
“Come now, Gerald,” Nicholas laughs, “surely you are not going to be petty over a bed.”
I stand, arm in arm with Margarita, as we walk down the stairs to the foyer where Gerald and Nicholas are in discussion. They had arrived just after we finished dinner, which was a welcome distraction to the pain and confusion we were both feeling. I was over the moon to see my friend again, and my happiness leached into Nicholas too, both of us now in much better moods, both also steadfastly ignoring the elephant in the room.
The butler had shown the guests to their room, but according to Margarita, Gerald was not happy.
“Not at all, old fellow,” we hear Gerald say now, “I’m simply saying that as your most regular guest, I have a level of expectancy as to my standing in your affections – ipso facto, I usually stay in the State Bedroom.”
“Jeeze, Jerry,” Margarita laughs as we step into the room, “any of the rooms in this place are going to be pretty swanky.”
I see a little muscle in Gerald’s jaw tense at this, but he simply turns to her and smiles, squeezing her hand as she comes to stand beside him.
“You are right, of course, my love. Where would you like us, Nick?”
“There are sixty bedrooms,” Nicholas says dryly, “take your pick.”
