Page 34

“I was hoping to make a good impression on your bride, and you went and mentioned my wayward son,” Jameson laughs. “I assure you, he took after his mother.”

I don’t know how to answer that, so I just smile, glancing at Mihaela, hoping she’s about to say we’re on a schedule and she really must get us to our room. But she simply stands to the side, waiting for us to finish our conversation.

“Where’s Cassian?” Jameson asks.

We knew this question was coming, but no one is going to fall for our lie.

“He accidentally ingested a plant-based food,” Noah says casually.

Jameson laughs, and when he realizes it’s not a joke, his amusement becomes confusion. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so.” Noah catches my eye. “There were pureed potatoes in his chowder. I talked to him when we arrived in Romania. He’s doing slightly better now, but he was still vomiting when it was time to head to the airport.”

“What rotten timing.” Jameson shakes his head like he can’t believe it. Then he smiles, his eyes slightly calculating. “So, he sent you to accept his nomination?”

“That’s right.”

“Thankfully, you didn’t eat the chowder as well, or his line would have been out of the running.”

A slimy sensation coils in my stomach, and I shiver despite the heat in this non air-conditioned castle.

Noah’s eyes narrow just slightly. “Yes, thankfully.”

“Best take care while you’re here,” Jameson says, looking like he’s about to start walking again. “It would be a shame if something happened to you before the nominations were announced.”

Noah tucks me slightly closer to his side. His body is rigid, but his smile is easy. “We’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Jameson turns his smile on me. “I’d hate for something unfortunate to happen to your bride.”

My throat tightens, and I’m tempted to turn tail and run out of this opulent castle. But I stand my ground, trying to look serene.

“Mihaela,” Jameson says, turning to our guide. “I’d like to sit next to Montgomery and his lovely wife at dinner. Do you think you can make that happen?”

“Of course,” she answers.

He nods, satisfied, and turns back to us. “Until tonight.”

Then he continues walking, heading toward the front entrance and his waiting car.

“Shall we continue?” Mihaela asks.

“Yes, please,” Noah says.

By the time we reach our suite, I’ve decided this whole plan is a terrible idea. But I temporarily forget the purpose of our visit when I step into our room.

It’s magical. There’s no other word for it.

The door opens to a small sitting room, and beyond that is the bedroom.

I stand at the entrance now, gaping at it.

The focal point is a huge four-poster bed with burgundy curtains tied to each post. The bedding is white, and there are at least a dozen pillows.

All the furniture looks antique and wildly expensive.

Intricate whirls are carved into every surface, and the stain is dark.

There’s probably a name for the style, but I don’t have the slightest idea what it is.

Baroque, Neo-Gothic, plain everyday Gothic—it could be any or none of those. I don’t know.

But it is luxurious.

“I’m sure you’re tired from your flight,” Mihaela says. “Feel free to rest until dinner.”

“When are we expected to join the others?” Noah asks, eyeing the bed with the same longing I feel.

“The gala will begin at six o’clock, with hors d’oeuvres and champagne at seven. Dinner will be served at eight. The nomination announcements will begin at nine, followed immediately by dessert.”

“Are all the princes present?” I ask, wondering just how many people will be here.

“All but Cassian.”

Her smile is tinged with judgment, but I choose to ignore it.

“Thank you for preparing our room,” Noah says, ushering her toward the door.

“Please call if you need me,” she says. “The card with my contact information is on the desk.”

When Noah closes the door, I nearly melt onto the floor. “I’m so tired.”

“It’s the middle of the night back home,” he reminds me.

“I don’t know how I’m going to function for this kidnapping.”

“How about we take a short rest?”

“Do we have time? Don’t I need to walk around the castle, looking vulnerable and lost?”

Noah’s expression darkens. “This was a bad idea.”

“I thought you liked Cassian’s plan?”

“I changed my mind halfway over the Atlantic Ocean.”

“That’s inconvenient—I’m already here. Now what?”

He rubs his neck, looking stressed.

“Never mind.” I tug on his arm, pulling him toward the bed. “Let’s get a little sleep and then talk about it.”

“That’s a good plan.”

But I pause halfway across the room, feeling like I’m going to fall asleep on my feet. “But what about our clothes for the gala?”

“Cassian said his friend would contact us when we arrived. I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon.”

That’s good enough for me. I all but throw myself onto the bed, sighing when I discover it’s as soft as it looks.

“You’re going to suffocate in those pillows,” Noah laughs.

And he’s not wrong. I fell into them face-first, and now I’m surrounded.

“I don’t care,” I say, my voice muffled.

“I care.” He uncovers me, setting all but four of the pillows on the chairs near the tea table. He then joins me on the bed, groaning when his body sinks into the magnificent mattress.

I rub my face over the pillowcase. “I understand Sophia’s thread-count needs now.”

Noah chuckles as he rolls over and pulls me into him.

I had full intentions of napping, but now his breath is on my neck, and my fangs are taking notice.

“I thought you were tired,” Noah says, probably hearing my pulse jump.

I roll over, right into his arms. “I slept a little on the plane. What about you? Are you tired?”

Noah shifts so I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me. “Unlike you, I actually slept on the plane.”

“You know, I just had a thought. It’s harder for someone to kill us if we stay locked in our room until dinner.”

“An astute observation.” Noah slides his hand up my side, his fingers warm through my shirt. “But what will we do all afternoon?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” I pull his mouth down to mine, but he resists.

“I didn’t have time to shave this morning,” he apologizes. “I’m scruffier than usual.”

I run my hand over his shadowed jaw. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah?” His eyes meet mine, the moment intimate.

“Yeah.” I tug on the back of his neck. “Now kiss me.”

I don’t have to ask him twice. Our mouths meet, both of us a little desperate. We’ve been waiting so long and?—

A knock sounds at the door.

Noah pulls back, breathing hard, looking a little murderous.

“Can we ignore them?” I whisper, running my hand over his back.

But the nuisance knocks again.

Noah swears and sits up, abandoning me and stalking into the main room.

He pulls the door open, blocking the doorway with his body so I can’t see who’s in the hall. But I can hear her, and she’s saying something about clothing.

No.

Not yet.

Not now.

“We’ll meet you out front in ten minutes,” Noah promises, and then he shuts the door and returns to me.

He looks as frustrated as I feel. “We have to go to our fitting.”

“I don’t want to.”

A smile steals across his face. “I don’t want to either, but we don’t have a choice. We can’t wear shorts to dinner.”

“If you say so.” I stand, stretching, missing the bed almost immediately. My T-shirt tugs up, showing off a strip of my midriff. It’s not an accident.

Noah crosses the room, claiming my sides mid-stretch, his hands landing on my bare skin. I jolt, surprised by the heat.

He dips his head low, his mouth close to my ear. “Tonight.”

That’s all he says, but the promise in his voice makes my knees soften.

Very aware of how he affects me, Noah steps back, releasing me, his honey-brown eyes on mine and a knowing smile on his lips.

My fangs press at my gums, so eager to break free.

When Noah steps back, my hand darts out, wrapping in his T-shirt, holding him in place. His eyebrows fly up, and his smile grows. He presses into me, suddenly in charge.

“Careful,” he warns. “We don’t have time for the game you’d like to play.”

Ignoring him, my eyes move to his neck. His breath hitches when I touch him, my fingertips playing over his pulse point.

“Let me bite you,” I whisper.

He pulls my hand from his neck and kisses the tip of my index finger. “Later.”

“Noah,” I whine, smiling.

“All the things,” he says, his voice slightly gritty, “we’ll do them later.”

“If we’re interrupted tonight?—”

“I’ll stake whoever comes to the door.” He suddenly grins, his smile so warm, and he brushes back my hair and kisses me softly. “Believe me, this has been torture for us both. Soon, we’ll have nothing but time. Let’s just secure Cassian’s nominations first.”

“Fine,” I say with a sigh, willing my fangs to retract. “Speaking of Cassian, I thought of something in the car, but I couldn’t say it in front of Tomas.”

“Don’t forget to put your hair pins in your hair and wear your purse,” he reminds me absently, slipping his wallet in his pocket and then rummaging in his suitcase for his pocketknife. “What couldn’t you say?”

I fuss with my pins and redo my chignon, wondering if it will get easier with time.

“Gerald is a scientist—he’s spent his life researching Vampira B.

Do you think he’s done something to Cassian?

Slipped him some kind of anti-vampire drug?

Something that can wipe out the Vampiria B in our systems and make us susceptible to illnesses again? ”

Noah goes still, his pocketknife halfway into his pocket, and his eyes slowly meet mine. “I’m not sure. When would he have had the chance?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head as I realize it’s impossible. “We were only around him for a few minutes…”

I trail off, not liking where my train of thought is taking me.

“Sophia,” Noah says darkly, apparently reaching the same conclusion.

“She couldn’t have,” I argue. “She’s in love with him—you’ve seen her.”

But even I’m not convinced. The timing is too bizarre.

“I need to call him.” Noah grabs his cell phone, and I sit on the bed, wishing I’d mentioned it as soon as we were alone.

“She’s with him now,” I say. “If she wanted to kill him, it wouldn’t be difficult.”

“Thankfully, we took him to the hospital,” Noah says, growing impatient when Cassian doesn’t immediately answer.

He hangs up and then chooses another number from his contact list.

“Who are you calling now?”

“Max.”

“Max?” I ask, startled. “My Max?”

“Hey, it’s Noah,” he says when my brother answers. “I know it’s the middle of the night, but I need you on the next plane to Miami. NIHA will cover the travel expenses.”

I stare at him, baffled. As soon as he ends the call, I ask, “Why Max? With the drive to Denver, it’s going to be half a day before he can get to the hospital, and that’s only if he manages to get a direct flight.”

“He’s the only other NIHA agent I can trust to keep an eye on Sophia.”

“But Max isn’t a hunter.”

“I don’t need a hunter. I just need another set of eyes.”

“What if he doesn’t get there in time?”

Noah locks eyes with me, his eyebrows low and his face worried.

“What are you doing?” I ask when he brings his phone to his ear once more.

“Trying to call Cassian again.”