“Thank you.” The call ended, and Merrick turned to find Leander already looking at him.
“I think,” Leander said, walking back toward Merrick. “I’d like to stay here with you if that’s all right.”
He almost argued, feeling like Leander thought he needed to babysit him. Then he thought about Leander walking out the door, knowing there was a threat out there. Leander staying there seemed like a much better option. Taking a breath, he met Leander’s dark gaze with a nod. “I’d like that.”
A loud meow pulled Merrick’s gaze from his mate. Maple, his precious tabby cat, had apparently gotten tired of waiting for him to come and find her. Normally, the first thing he did when he walked in the door was to find Maple’s napping spot—wherever it happened to be that day.
“I’m sorry, Mapes,” Merrick said, bending over to scoop her up. She draped herself over his shoulder and purred her acceptance of his apology. He looked at Leander. “This is Maple.”
Leander moved closer. Maple turned to look at him, and he held out his hand for her to sniff. She pinned her ears back. He let out a small chuckle, drawing Merrick’s gaze. “I don’t think she’s ready to make friends yet.”
“Maybe she just needs to spend some time with you,” Merrick said, realizing halfway through that he wasn’t just talking about his cat.
A muscle ticked in Leander’s jaw. “Maybe so.”
“Come on.” Merrick turned toward the hall that led to the part of the huge penthouse he actually lived in. “I’ll give you the tour and find us some comfortable clothes.”
“Lead the way.”
3
The cat hated him.
Leander turned to follow Merrick and was met with Maple’s frigid green gaze. Her ears stayed pinned back, and beneath Merrick’s arm, her tail was twitching back and forth. He wondered if she hated all vampires or if her ire was specific to him.
Beneath his feet, dark hardwood floors were covered with thick, multi-colored rugs. Not some ostentatious Persian rugs he might have expected in a Black’s home, but modern patterns in vivid blues, purples, and greens. Actually, everywhere Leander looked pops of color lived amongst old-world gleaming wooden beams and paneling that were probably part of the original decor.
They passed several closed doors before the hallway ended in a large open living area. There was a lone reading lamp casting a golden glow from one corner of the room until Merrick flicked a switch on the wall and several more lamps flared to life.
It was homey. There was no other word for it. Deep-set, comfortable-looking furniture sat facing a large stone fireplace with a flat-screen TV mounted above it, and every available table surface was covered in books.
“This is where I spend most of my time,” Merrick said, setting Maple on the back of the couch before rubbing at the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. “Bedrooms and bathroom are back the way we came, and the kitchen is through there.” Merrick motioned to an open archway in one wall.
They stood staring at each other for a moment. Leander hadn’t felt this out of place in a long time, but even with the uncomfortable feeling spreading under his skin, he couldn’t deny that he was also pleased to be in Merrick’s space. He shouldn’t be, not if he intended to keep this mating as formal as possible, but there was something about being surrounded by Merrick’s scent and being invited into his home that eased something inside Leander that their two dinner dates hadn’t managed.
This was a step forward, a step closer, whether he liked it or not. He knew it wasn’t fair to judge Merrick based on how his previous mate had treated him, but he couldn’t seem to stop either. He wanted to know Merrick, but he also wanted to hide himself away. He was smart enough to know that was never going to work.
“Oh shit.” Merrick’s eyes went wide.
“What is it?”
“Um…I mean, I know you eat regular food, but do you need any, uh—”
“Blood?”
Merrick’s cheeks had turned an alluring shade of pink. “Yeah.”
“I will, yes, but I’ll have my assistant bring me some things tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay.” Fidgeting with his tuxedo sleeves like he’d done at the gala, Merrick looked at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
Leander took a step closer. “Of course.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but, um, how do you get the blood?”
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline before a hard rush of anger flashed through him. “I don’t kill people if that’s what you’re implying.”
“No!” Both of Merrick’s hands came up in a placating gesture. “God, no. That’s not—” He shook his head hard. “I just meant…do you take from them directly?” His face was three shades darker than it’d been a moment ago. He swallowed hard. “It’s just…that seems kind of intimate.” A self-deprecating scowl formed on Merrick’s face as he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor.