Page 13 of Shift in the Blood
“She can’t know about you.”
“Then how do you propose to explain our arrangement?” He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Is Carina the kind that will accept whatever you tell her?”
“Not even close.”
“What do you propose to tell her then?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t even agreed to this.” I could feel irritation. But Carina could not know. That much I was sure of.
“Would you like another day to think it over? I’ll have guards sent to watch over her. She won’t know. And then you can consider my offer.”
“That would be nice.” I couldn’t remember the last time that anyone had made me an offer that didn’t have more in it for them than for me.
“Very well. Please hang onto that.” He stood, gesturing at the necklace. “I’ll send some food up for you.”
“Wait. Are we in a castle?” I had to ask.
“No, why?”
“Just wondering. Food would be great.”
“It will be here shortly.” He opened the door, taking a step out.
“No bloodshakes. Or does that happen when we make an agreement? This patronage thing?” My words started out joking, but when I finished, there was nothing funny.
An expression I couldn’t place settled on his face.
“If we were to share blood…” Didier stopped.
“Yes?”
“It would be incredible.” His voice dropped, and the cool seductive silk I’d first heard in the museum returned, cocooning around me.
“What?” My voice came out as a hoarse croak.
“I’ll send up the food.” He eased out of the door, and then was gone.
My heart pounded like a tom-tom, signaling who knew what to anyone in the vicinity. He made my blood soar through my veins, which should have been funny—not ha-ha funny, more isn’t-it-ironic funny—and my head swim. Even crazier, every bit of those sensations felt wonderful. I wanted more.
I leaned back, holding the necklace in my hand, considering what he’d offered. Patronage. That was what the painters hundreds of years ago had. Usually their patron was the Catholic Church, which explained a lot of subject matter choices. The point was, the person chosen for patronage was supported.
They wouldn’t be starving in the streets, or worried about the next rent payment.
Could it really be this easy?
What if he was like Maxim? Maxim had seemed all nice, and normal, and non-criminal at the beginning as well. Now he was sending knife-wielding maniacs after me. It would be safe to say that things had not worked out well between us. That is if you ignored the whole psycho-tried-to-kill me thing. A small matter, really.
I thought back to that first meeting with Maxim. No, I’d known he was shady as hell even then. I didn’t get that from Didier.
Was that because I didn’t want to get the creep vibes off him? Because I wanted to share blood, and romance, and sexy times and anything else he was willing to share?
The strength of my ‘yes’ floored me. I literally couldn’t move for several moments.
I wanted him. I needed to be honest. Not just because he’d offered me and Carina a way out. But because he was sexy, and enticing, and I was drawn to him like a kid at camp to a s’more. The tone of his voice? That last teasing sentence?
Maybe I wasn’t alone in my attraction.
But that meant I needed to be all the more careful. Like, love, and lust were distractions when you were involved in negotiations with someone. And this whole patron thing seemed too good to be true.
