Page 17 of Bite at First Sight

“What happened to the vampires responsible?”

“Ian jailed them for six months and made a decree that only the Lord of the city would handle matters with suspicious mortals from thenceforth.” A dry laugh escaped his lips. “Which is how the damn fool ended up with a wife.”

Cassandra blinked, curious as to what her friend really did to become the Duchess of Burnrath. “How—”

“It’s a blasted long story.” He looked out the window, pointedly not wanting to elaborate.

She settled back against the carriage squabs, sighing in disappointment. It had been such a fascinating conversation, and so…companionable.

The cold silence became unbearable. Cassandra broke it once more. “Don Villar, thank you so much for bringing me to the party. I know it was not an enjoyable experience for you.”

“It was more tolerable than others.” The scars on his face were tight.

“Yes, I can imagine. I myself do not care much for balls and musicales, though dinner parties with my colleagues are events I much enjoy. The intellectually stimulating conversations, the sharing of new discoveries…” She sighed in bliss. “About that auction…”

His brows drew together. “Don’t push your luck, Countess.” Rafael leaned forward until his knees nearly touched hers. “However, I have decided to bargain with you in regard to your other request.”

“Oh?” Her traitorous body quivered at his proximity.

Rafael’s voice was low and provocative as he answered slowly. “I will let you study me…in exchange for one thing.”

Her breath caught. “And that would be?”

His burning gaze swept her with tangible intensity. “I want a kiss. One for each study.”

Her heart lodged in her throat and her knees turned to water. Surely she could not have heard him correctly. “You want me to kiss you?”

“It is a human need I never quite outgrew.” His black hair fell in a heavy sheaf, hiding the scarred half of his face. “Even the hardiest prostitutes are reluctant to provide me with that service, so I shall ask you.”

Cassandra’s mind and emotions roiled. How could he sound so cold, mentioning prostitutes even as he was speaking of the need for her kiss? And how could any woman be reluctant to do so? Were they frightened of his scars? The ones on his face were not even that prominent. Only a slight furrow of roughness along his temple and left cheek. She didn’t find them frightening. They made him appear powerful, a survivor.

With predatory grace, Rafael leaned forward, placing a hand on each side of her hips. He moved closer until his face was inches from hers. “You did say you’d be willing to bargain anything, Countess.”

She studied his lips, her mouth going dry at the sight of the wicked arches and sensuous curves. For over a year, she’d dreamed of being in his arms, tracing the faint ridged scars on his cheek as his mouth claimed hers.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, frightened at the deep well of desire within her soul. Had he read her mind? Was that why he was asking this? Was he toying with her?

Something fiery and primitive flickered in his eyes. “We have a bargain, then?”

Cassandra nodded and reached up to touch his face. He drew back and seized her hand and shook it as if she had sold him a piece of property, not her… She couldn’t finish the thought.

He inclined his head respectfully and released her, leaning back against his seat. “We may begin tomorrow night if that is acceptable to you.”

“That will be”—she struggled to breathe—“most adequate.”

Thankfully, the carriage stopped, temporarily halting the perplexing situation.

Rafael gave her a long, penetrating look that made her shiver as he led her back into the house. “Now I must see about procuring my own supper. Until later, Countess.”

As the door closed behind him, Cassandra released a long sigh that did little to quell the rapid thudding of her heart.

Six

5 October 1823

Tension charged the air the moment Rafael entered Lady Rosslyn’s laboratory for her first experiment. The fingers of his bad hand twitched as if aware of her presence. His stomach felt as if a leaden weight rolled around within. This had been a terrible idea. When she looked up from whatever gadget she was tinkering with, he opened his mouth to call the whole thing off.

“Brilliant. You’re precisely on time,” she said with a businesslike smile, picking up a horrifically sharp instrument. “I would like to start by collecting a specimen of your blood.”

---