Page 62 of The Biting Bargain

Then he looks down at me, eyes searching, his face wearing that strangely vulnerable expression. Before I can stop myself, I brush a tangled strand of black hair from his face.

"You okay?" I ask.

"I should be asking you that," he says, his voice hoarse, with a surprised laugh hidden within that I've never heard before.

My stupid heart skips a beat. My stupid heart always skips when it's not supposed to. And lamentably, I can't take my eyes off of him. And it's so achingly nice to be so close to him, still entangled, still raw, still rather breathless...

Ding-dong!

The doorbell cuts the silence in half. And I remember where we are, and how paper thin the walls are and shit, shit shit!

"Shit, shit, shit!" I disentangle myself from Vincent, half falling off the dresser as the doorbell rings again. Whoever is disturbing us in the middle of the night is pretty impatient, and I randomly grab one of my giant hoodies off the floor.

"I'll get it! Stay where you are!" I shout, my head already tangled in the hoodie and lurching out the door of my bedroom and kicking it shut behind me. At least I manage to put the sweater on completely — and thank God it’s XXXL and goes all the way to my knees — before I open the door.

Marigold is there, in PJs, bathrobe and pink fuzzy slippers. She is grinning from ear to ear.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I blurt, and she grins even wider.

"Here I am, worrying my head off why I don't hear a peep from you, wondering if your sexy vampire boss ate you up in the end — and then you show up with sex hair and a post-orgasm glow and no idea what I'm talking about."

Blushing fiercely, I step out into the hallway and pull the door behind me.

"Keep it down, please," I whisper.

"Too late, honey. By now the entire house knows who you're here with." Marigold pats my shoulder sympathetically, beaming all over her face and obviously having trouble keeping her laughing fit in.

God, please, please shoot me! I bury my face in my hand with a groan.

"Oh come on, sweetie. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Marigold pulls me into a hug with her big arms. "Which you clearly are.

"Shut up."

Marigold chuckles.

"Seems like things are going well for you?"

I nod into her shoulder and sigh, and my friend strokes my head. Then she holds me at arm's length.

"Good, then keep doing whatever you're doing." She winks at me, pushes open the door behind me and calls into my apartment, "Have a good night, sir. And if you dare to make her cry, I'll tear you a new one. Bye!"

Squeezing my shoulder one more time, she shuffles back up the stairs.

And I want to sink into the floor.

"I guess I have to be careful around your friends," Vincent says when I come back in, leaning against the door as the lock clicks shut. He is lurking in my little hall, decent again, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Yeah, you better watch out," I say with a wobbly voice, still feeling like the floor underneath my feet is swaying when he steps up in front of me, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

So gently, I shiver.

"I’ll keep it in mind," he says. And his lip curls. And my heart leaps.

Dammit.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

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