Page 77 of Bite at First Sight

“I don’t know if he has exactly,” she blurted out without thinking, overcome with frustrated confusion. “‘Made love’ seems to be such a placid term for what he…”

The countess’s eyes widened in concern as she placed a hand on Cassandra’s sleeve and whispered, “Did he hurt you?”

“No, not at all…” Cassandra was so embarrassed by the subject that even her ears felt hot. Were all Americans this candid about such intimate subjects? “Though he was quite, ah, vigorous.”

After Lydia made a small relieved sound, her devilish smile returned. “Yes, they can be that way at times. However, vampires are much stronger than humans, so it speaks volumes that he made an effort to not cause you pain.”

Unbidden, a tendril of warmth curled through Cassandra’s belly at the words. She managed a light, awkward laugh. “This is a rather unseemly conversation.”

Lydia nodded, undaunted. “Yes, it is. Very well, I shall change the subject.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “Do you love him?”

Cassandra sucked in a breath. Forcing composure, she said in a monotone, “Love is an affliction without any logical basis.”

“Hence its grand mystery, power, and endless capacity for wonder,” Lydia answered levelly. “Now answer my question. Do you love him?”

Cassandra dropped her gaze to the floor, unable to face the woman’s sympathetic gaze. “Yes.” The word choked out against her will. “But there is no sense in it. I cannot understand how—”

“Not everything in this world is comprehensible. Nor is it meant to be, in my opinion.” Lydia’s smooth drawl washed over Cassandra like a soothing balm. “You should permit some mystery in your life.”

“I am not sure that I can.” Cassandra shrugged helplessly. “Such a concept deviates from my nature.” Even now, her capacity for common sense was in turmoil with the idea of conversing with a vampire about romance like a debutante at her first ball.

Lydia seemed to understand Cassandra’s inner struggle. “We can talk more another time.” She closed her eyes and turned her head toward the door, like a doe scenting the air for predators. “Our gentlemen are finishing up in the study.”

The moment Lydia finished speaking, Cassandra heard a door open with a creak and hushed, solemn male voices echoing softly in the corridor outside. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and willed herself to present a serene countenance before they entered the room.

Lord Deveril came in first, blue-gray eyes wide with fascination as they perused her laboratory. When those stormy eyes settled on his wife, they warmed, taking on a hint of turquoise. “And how are you ladies getting on?”

Lydia’s features softened, transforming her into the very image of rapturous adoration. Cassandra wondered if her own face gave away her feelings so readily—and fervently prayed that was not the case.

As Rafe approached her, she turned to the earl. “We are quite well, thank you, Lord Deveril. Would you care to tell me why Rafe and I are pretending to be engaged for the sake of the ton’s approval? And why are we bothering with this nonsense over a ball when war is imminent?”

“I already discussed my scheme with Rafe,” Vincent told her levelly.

Cassandra gave Rafe a stern frown. “Don’t even consider giving me the brush-off as well.”

Rafe chuckled. “I had no intention of doing so, Countess. Vincent believes that if we have a more prominent place in the mortal world, the Elders may be more reluctant to kill me…or you. It may not work, but there is little harm in trying.” For a moment he looked like he would say more; then instead he lit a cigar.

“Well, I can see the reason in such a scheme,” Cassandra said with forced brightness. Her stomach continued to churn in discomfort at certain aspects of the deception.

“It was all I could think of on such short notice,” Lord Deveril said apologetically. “The pair of you will need any scrap of mercy you can garner.”

She managed a wan smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Please, call me Vincent.” The vampire bowed with a friendly smile and gestured around her laboratory. “You have a very impressive working space here. Would you care to show me around and perhaps tell me the tale of Rafe’s miraculous recovery?”

Cassandra smiled gratefully at the change of subject and gave him a tour of her laboratory, showing him her surgical instruments and explaining how she had used them for Rafe’s operation. Indeed, it was a relief to talk openly of her procedures rather than evading the truth as when she spoke with Wakley.

Lydia chimed in with avid, perceptive questions. Rafe leaned against the door frame and supplied answers when required, smiling more than she had ever seen him. A rare comforting air filled the room as the vampires looked at her with respect and admiration, rather than the pity and concern they had first displayed.

By the time they left the laboratory and Rafe showed Vincent and Lydia to the guest chamber he’d had prepared for them, Cassandra truly felt as if she had allies in this frightening, confusing situation.

* * *

Once Vincent and Lydia were settled for the day rest and Rafe and Cassandra had returned to their bedchamber, Rafe couldn’t wait a moment longer to pull her into his arms. Dios, she had been so brave. So astoundingly practical and so damned beautiful. For a while, he was content to merely hold her, savoring the much-craved heat of her body against his.

But when he helped her out of her brocade gown, a surge of undeniable lust roared through him as his eyes took in her naked perfection. Rafe gritted his teeth and resisted the primal urge to ravage her. Tonight he would be gentle.

“Would you like me to rub your back, Querida?” he asked softly, unbuttoning his shirt.

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