Why was I still talking? Things had been so great a second ago and I had to go ruin it bringing up something that didn’t even matter.
Yes it did.
No it didn’t.
He was going to think I was a completely possessive idiot.
“May I finish?” he asked. I nodded meekly. “As I was saying, divorce would be extremely complicated, due to our unusual circumstances. We were married over six hundred years ago. Any official record of our vows has probably been destroyed. It is not as simple as hiring a lawyer and filing papers.”
“Of course.” I nodded, not looking directly at him. “That makes total sense.”
I seriously had to focus. Forget Veronique. Forget Quinn. There were more important things to discuss.
Including that champagne that I could seriously use another glass of it right about now.
I tried to smile. “Let’s just forget I said anything, okay?”
Thierry shook his head. “It’s true that I have not revealed much about myself personally to you. I will admit that. I am a private man and always have been. But . . . ” His expression tensed and he looked down at the table, then up to stare intently into my eyes. “Sarah, there . . . there are things I wish for you to know about me. Things you must know.”
I put my hand up and shook my head. This was the dangerous territory George warned me about.
“Maybe we should talk about Nicolai.”
That stopped him. He frowned. “Nicolai . . . ”
“Yeah. The reason I’m not immediately hightailing it out of town? You said that he’s dangerous. Why is that? Where do you know him from, anyhow?”
“I will tell you about Nicolai in a moment.” He paused and took a sip of his drink. “But first I want you to know some things about me I should have told you long ago. It simply didn’t seem the time.”
His expression was very grave. I braced myself to hear some horrible news as he looked down at the tablecloth and his glass of dark red cranberry juice.
Then he looked up at me and grabbed my hand so suddenly that it scared me. Instinctively I pulled away, managing to knock my champagne glass off the table. It shattered on the ceramic tiled floor.
“Shit. Sorry.” I slipped out of the booth and crouched over to start grabbing at the pieces, but I wasn’t concentrating completely on what I was doing. I flinched as I felt a slicing pain and realized I’d just succeeded in cutting the tip of my index finger with a broken piece of glass. “Oh, great. Just my luck. I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy.”
Thierry stood up from the booth and grabbed a napkin. He took my hand in his, his brow furrowed. “I broke a glass last night, too. Nobody noticed, but I did. So we’re even.”
I smiled up at him. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
He studied the wound. It was deep and the blood dripped steadily to the floor. I had a bit of a love/hate relationship with the red stuff. It still made me squeamish. I’d never been able to watch any of those operation shows on TV, but at the same time, now whenever I saw it, my stomach rumbled, seemingly recognizing it as my main food source. Talk about gross. Welcome to my life.
Yeah, I’d done a great job of hurting myself. I didn’t need hunters. I could probably kill myself by accident before too long. I could just hear the hunters discussing it over a beer. “Yeah, she fell on a sharp pencil while doing a crossword puzzle. It was spectacular!”
He tossed the napkin, unused, to the table. “It will heal shortly.”
“Right.” I squinted down at the blood and grimaced. “Super-speedy healing. Good to know I can add that to my arsenal of vampire powers.”
Thierry frowned. “Sarah . . . it is very important that you stop me right now.” His voice was strained and his grip on my hand increased. “I don’t know if I can stop myself.”
“What are you talking about?”
He kissed the back of my hand. Then he kissed the injured finger, and slowly drew the length of it into his mouth.
I gaped at him, frozen in place. Heat flooded my body at the feel of his tongue swirling around my finger.
My knees weakened and my brain stopped working.
This was finger sucking the way it should be! Hell yeah! Forget about that horrible incident with my boss and her letter opener. This was definitely the way to go.
He gazed at me as he concentrated on my injured finger. There was an expression on his face I don’t think I’d ever seen before. I didn’t even know how to explain it. Something wild and unpredictable.
Dangerous. His eyes narrowed slightly and appeared to darken, the darkness bleeding out to the whites of his eyes until they were fully black.
I frowned. “Thierry . . . ”
Against my finger I felt his fangs—normally small and innocuous and barely noticeable like mine—thicken and elongate as he attended to my injury. After a moment he finally let my finger slip out of his mouth.
“Sarah . . . ” His voice was raspy and deep and filled with the edge of an unfamiliar emotion. He slid his hands down the sides of my dress and pulled me closer.
“Thierry, your eyes—”
“Are they my favorite color now?” He pulled me against him, hard, and crushed his lips against mine,
taking my breath away.
One hundred percent. No restraint. I melted against him.
After a moment he broke off the kiss with a growl. He looked down at the table we were leaning against, then with a sweeping movement pushed everything off it to the floor. The bottle of champagne shattered like the crystal glasses. The candles hit the floor and extinguished, making the room even darker. Then he pressed me backward, down onto the surface of the table.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sliding my fingers into his dark hair, hoping that we had enough time to explore black-eyed Thierry before somebody walked in on us. That would be extremely embarrassing.
But, hey, I think it might be worth it. I was beginning to like this black-eyed Thierry a whole lot. And he wanted me to stop him? Like hell, I say.
He buried his face in the crook of my neck. “You smell wonderful, too.”
“Thank you. It’sAmarige by Givenchy. Bought it today.”
“Mmm. Yes . . . wonderful. Good enough to eat.”
“What did you—?”
And then he sank his fangs into my neck. I clutched at his back, surprised and shocked by the sharp intense sensation. But it wasn’t pain. I was surprised. I couldn’t exactly remember what it felt like getting bit by my blind date, I guess I’d blocked it out because he’d been just nasty, but it hadn’t been like this, I was sure of it.
This was . . .damn . This was just as hot as all those sexy books made it sound. Having your neck bitten by a vampire was like a total metaphor for—
I frowned.