Page 16 of The Brave (Black Arrowhead #6)

T he baby’s constant kicking kept me up all night, and not even knitting could relax me. I wondered if Atticus had made it home from his errands and gone to bed, but I didn’t know where his bedroom was located. I wondered if he even had a bedroom or owned a bed. What would be the point?

Of course he does, silly. Sleeping isn’t the only thing a person does in bed. Maybe he keeps all his mirrors on the ceiling so he can watch himself having sex. But wait, he said he didn’t bring people home. Where does he go? A hotel? Why am I thinking about his sex life?

I secured the belt on my pink floral robe and padded down the stairs. Atticus had left me prepared meals, and I heated up one for dinner. The caviar was tempting, but since Milly’d warned me about sodium, I chose fruit for dessert. Now it was past midnight, and I was debating on a late-night snack.

Motion-activated lights flicked on at every turn, one on each step of the stairs. Given he could see in pitch-black, he must have installed them for me.

I suddenly forgot which way led to the kitchen. “Is this what they call ‘pregnancy brain’?”

When I passed a hallway bathroom on the right, I ducked inside to use it. Even his bathrooms had fancy fixtures and counters. Immortals often bought gems, gold, real estate, and historical artifacts as a financial investment for the future. The value of the dollar fluctuated, and most of us didn’t get involved with the human stock market. While this home was certainly an investment, he must have been awfully lonely, even for a man who enjoyed the quiet.

I stared in the mirror at my plump cheeks. The pack had been making sure I ate since finding out about the baby, and it showed.

The bathroom was unusually balmy and smelled of soap. While I washed my hands, my blood curdled at the sight of blood smeared on the sink basin. I turned and looked around the room but didn’t see anything else unusual, so I dried my hands and stepped back into the hall.

“Atticus?” I clutched my elbows and stared into the darkness.

“What can I do for you?”

I jumped and whirled around.

One of his motion-activated night-lights blinked on right next to him. Atticus stood at the end of the hallway just as still as one of his statues, and it sent a chill up my spine.

“What are you doing down here, Miss Lockwood?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you cold?”

“Why would you ask that?”

He canted his head. “The way you’re holding yourself.”

Engulfed by a stretch of silence, I found my words, but my voice trembled like a leaf. “Why is there blood in the bathroom?”

“I’m sorry I was late. Your pack caught one of the Vampires and summoned me to assist them.”

The security light clicked off.

I lurched forward. “Why didn’t you say anything? Are they okay? What happened? Please tell me. Is Salem…?”

He shadow walked so fast that the light clicked on after he reached me. “Salem is unharmed. Your packmates are safe.”

I leaned into him. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“Come.” Atticus led me through his home, which was scarier at night with all the shadows, ghostly statues, and faces on paintings coming alive. Every sound echoed against the marble floors and high ceilings.

After entering a room, Atticus switched on a dim lamp and gestured for me to sit on a sofa facing the fireplace. I watched him gather wood, open the flue, and light kindling beneath the firewood.

Each wall had built-in shelves filled with books.

“Have you read them all?”

“Most,” he said while fanning the flames. “I enjoy collecting ancient literature and autobiographical records. Some are diaries, but I have novels if you’re interested in something besides poetry.”

The firelight softened his features, drawing my attention to his pale hair, which was noticeably damp. He must have showered in that bathroom, and that brought my thoughts back to the blood. His dark trousers and brown shirt made it difficult to see bloodstains, but that was probably because they were clean.

“Where did the blood in the bathroom come from?”

He set a screen in front of the fire before turning around and sitting on the hearth. “Would you like me to fetch you milk or something to nibble on?”

“I’d like you to answer my question and tell me every last detail.”

His dubious gaze fell to the floor, and though Atticus was young in appearance, his humorless expression aged him. “For the sake of the baby, it’s better that we discuss pleasant things lest he shift again.”

Irritated, I scooted forward. “While I appreciate your looking out for me, I’m not a delicate flower. This is my pack we’re talking about. The baby only shifts when I’m afraid or startled. I’m much more relaxed, but if you want to know what will make me neurotic, it’s not knowing if my packmates are alive. I tried sending a message earlier, but no one replied.”

“They were ordered not to communicate with you. They captured a Vampire trespassing on their property and requested my services to get information out of him.”

I kicked off my slippers when my feet began getting hot. “And?”

“They weren’t aware of you, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“How many were there?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the fire heating up behind him. “They only captured one, but two more are staying nearby. We can’t take the chance of them contacting their boss and getting new orders, so Tak is supposed to call when the job is done.”

I swallowed hard. “Is the job to kill or capture?”

“Capture implies release, and that would put you in danger. We can’t have those scoundrels on the loose.”

I jumped when the wood snapped in the fireplace. “What did you do to the Vampire you caught?”

“He was given orders to kill anyone in the way. Had you been home, you might have tried to protect Salem. That man wanted to end you, so I took him out of this world.” Atticus rose to his feet and gestured to the spot on my left. “May I?”

I moved my robe to let him sit. “What happens now?”

“Assuming your alpha is successful, we wait.”

“For what?”

“This faction might send more assassins, though it’s possible they won’t want to risk it. At least not so soon. If Salem knows their secrets, he’ll always be a threat to the facility.”

I played with a lock of my hair while lost in the bright orange flames that danced in the hearth. “I can’t imagine they’ll bother sending anyone else. It’s such a long way to travel.”

“Not anymore. They relocated their facility.”

My stomach sank. “Where?”

“Arkansas. Most of these underground labs periodically relocate, especially after a breach. I charmed our prisoner and discovered only one of them was in contact with the boss, and it was only through text messages. If Tak is able to confiscate their phones, we can continue communications with their boss.”

“For what reason?”

“So they don’t get spooked and move again.”

I wasn’t sure I liked where this idea was heading. “And what do you plan to do with that time?”

Firelight reflected in his piercing eyes. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“I think you have. Tak would never send us to destroy a secret lab. Never in a million years! We’re not bounty hunters. Lakota is, but that’s not his job as second-in-command.”

When his phone rang, he answered. “I’m here.”

I tried leaning closer to eavesdrop, but he had the volume turned too low.

Atticus nodded. “Splendid. I’m glad no one was harmed.”

I held out my hand and begged for the phone until he gave it to me. “Hello? Tak?”

My alpha cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m out of the loop. Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine. We’ve got it under control.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “When can I come home?”

His silence made me wonder if he’d put me on mute.

“Tak?”

“Yes. Um… I’m not ready to send for you or Hope. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“If they send more men, it’ll be more than just a few Vampires.”

“Bring everyone here. Atticus has plenty of room.”

Atticus blinked at me in surprise.

“Can’t do that, and you know it. If we abandon our home, we leave it open for anyone to claim. We protect what’s ours. How’s the Vampire treating you?” he asked firmly.

I couldn’t lie even if I wanted desperately to go back home. “Very well. I have everything I could possibly want, but I’m homesick already. What if…?” I turned away from Atticus, as if he couldn’t hear me quietly ask, “I can’t deliver my baby here. That’s an absurdity, and Milly’s too far away.”

“I can’t discuss this at the moment. We’re in the middle of cleaning up a crime scene, but we’ll work it out soon—I promise. Stop worrying and put Atticus back on the phone.”

I tossed Atticus his phone before pushing myself off the couch. While he wrapped up his conversation, I left the room to get some fresh air. The back door wouldn’t open, and I wanted to break the glass with a hammer.

I’m going out of my mind. Does he really want me to stay here? For how long? I can’t deliver a baby all by myself. What if something happens?

“I can’t even go outside.”

The door suddenly unlocked.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched Atticus striding toward me. After tapping his phone screen, the shutters outside the door instantly rose.

“As I said before, you’re not a prisoner in my home. These are safety precautions to prevent intruders.” He set his phone on a table before holding the door open. “My lady.”

The moon stole my attention as I looked skyward. It shone so brightly that the surrounding stars couldn’t compete. I drew in a deep breath and caught a whiff of chlorine from the pool. I missed the feel of my wolves inside me—the way they would each push against my skin, begging to come out. They were city wolves who had spent their time in hotel rooms, and I couldn’t wait for them to experience the wild.

“I just love the night.” My gaze drifted to the wide steps that led down to the pool area, all illuminated by strategically placed lanterns. “In the summer, I like to go outside and catch fireflies. Isn’t that silly? A grown woman like me, chasing after bugs. Have you ever seen one up close?”

Atticus took my hand and helped me down the last step. “I can’t say insects hold my interest.”

I approached the edge of the pool and gazed at the lights beneath the water. “They’re black little critters with a red head. They remind me of sunflower seed shells. If I saw one in the daytime, I wouldn’t go near it. But at dusk, half their body illuminates. How can something so ugly be so beautiful in the dark?”

“Because of magic. Science explains everything, but in exchange for knowledge we’ve abandoned the mystery of life.”

I drew in a deep breath and smiled. “My wolves would love running on a night like this.”

“How do they decide who comes out first?”

I was amused by his question since no one had ever asked me that. “Bess is always the first even though she’s the submissive one. Maybe Gypsy thinks it’ll make her happy.”

“You named them? That was the old way. Long ago, Shifters would name their spirit animals, especially ones with opposite personalities from their human. Now it’s uncommon.”

“With two, I needed a way to tell them apart. They’re very different.”

When I stroked my belly, I pondered how maternal I’d been behaving today. While knitting earlier, I’d found myself humming nursery rhymes and talking to the baby. I’d never done that before.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to share a body with an animal,” he admitted.

“Which animal would you want to be?”

He gazed up at the sky. “Maybe a bird of some kind.”

“Like a bat?”

He rocked with laughter.

“Sorry,” I said playfully. “The Vampire jokes write themselves.”

“Bats aren’t exactly birds, but a night creature is an interesting idea. Maybe an owl since I’d rather be a predator than prey. If you had your choice, would you still be a wolf?”

“I couldn’t imagine anything else.”

Atticus took my hand and held it. “You’re cold. We should go back inside.”

“A little chill never hurt anyone.”

While that was true, I was also wearing a short nightie, so my legs were barely shielded by the satin robe, which kept opening whenever I turned and the wind caught it.

This place was so romantic, and as Atticus led me up the steps by the hand, I suddenly froze.

He turned. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Just a strange sense of déjà vu.” I shook it off and continued toward the door. “What do you think about that mystery?”

“I met a woman who said we dream our entire life before birth and forget everything during infancy. What you call déjà vu, she called dream flashes. That’s why some of them happen at the most irrelevant moments. It’s like dropping a cookie on the floor but forgetting to wipe up a few tiny crumbs.”

Once inside, I rubbed my arms to warm them while Atticus closed the door and shutters. “That would be terribly sad to see your whole life. What a disappointment for some.”

He slanted one eyebrow, and I was struck again by his patrician features. “Maybe the unborn only see the highlights. Or maybe we’ve lived past lives and those were far worse, so the hardships we’ll face pale in comparison.”

I stared down at my stomach and wondered about past lives. “What do you believe?”

Atticus put his phone in his pocket. “I do know there is something. Gravewalkers see spirits caught between worlds, but those who stay behind were on their way somewhere. That intrigues me, and I’ve often wondered if everyone goes to the same place or if it’s like a train station, and some of us are bound for another life.”

I studied his black eyes and the way they glittered in the dim light. “If you were born into another life, would you choose to become a Vampire again?”

He folded his arms. “Most men didn’t live past fifty in the time I was born. I’ve seen children die from cholera or plagues. Women died in childbirth, men died in war or from simple infections. Tuberculosis took many. Of all the Breeds, Vampires are the apex predators. That’s appealing when you see how abbreviated some lives are. Most Vampires will tell you that they never had the choice”—he lifted his chin—“but I did.”

“How old were you when you were made?”

“Twenty-four, thereabouts. Come.” He held out his hand and led me back to the library.

The fire had significantly warmed the room, and when I sat down on the sofa, Atticus covered my legs with a white throw.

I propped a pillow at the end of the sofa and turned to the side. “I hope you don’t mind if I put my feet up. My back is killing me, and it’s hard to find a comfortable position. Tell me more about your human life. Do you remember any of it?”

Atticus sat by my feet and faced me with one arm over the back of the sofa. “My mother was a prostitute, but she didn’t do it to feed her family. I happened to be a side effect of her career choice. You have to understand that three thousand years ago, women didn’t have many options unless they were fortunate enough to have a spouse with land, livestock, or a trade. I don’t fault her for that, but she got sick as a result and died before I was fourteen.”

“How awful.”

“When she died, I found a job working for a wealthy trader who needed a runner—someone to deliver messages across great distances. They preferred young orphans with boundless energy and loyalty. He was exceedingly powerful for the time because he sold bronze weapons, helmets, and battle gear. Metal was valuable in those times and used as currency.”

“Where was this?”

“Not all countries were established, but it was in the region of Austria.”

“Was this man a Vampire?”

Atticus laughed, and when he did, his eyes curved like crescent moons. “No. He was just an oaf with an attractive daughter. He also had six sons, but two died of influenza while I lived there. Another one died in battle. They lived in a fortified settlement, but there were many conquerors in those times.”

I imagined Atticus as a young boy and wondered how on earth he could have survived without family. “Did you marry the daughter?”

He slowly shook his head. “Matilda was betrothed to a warrior’s son when she was only nine. They were waiting for her to come of age. Wealth had a different meaning in those times. Peasants labored just to survive. People died of disease or raids on their villages. Her father thought that building an alliance with a great leader would mean protection for his family. Warriors were the aristocracy.”

“Poor girl, but I guess people did what they needed to in order to survive.”

“The boy she was promised to died, but I can’t recall how. I haven’t told this story in a long time.” He rubbed his temple as if the memories pained him. “I was a young man who thought he was in love, and I made stupid choices—ones only the son of a prostitute could.”

“At fourteen?”

He adamantly shook his head. “This happened when I was twenty. She was eighteen. I think. It was so long ago that I can’t even recall her face anymore. Only the sound of her silly laugh.” He scratched his nape while still lost in his reverie. “We thought we were in love, but we were young. She was with child when we left her family home.”

I gasped softly. “You have descendants?”

“I think maybe it’s getting late,” he finally said. “You should go to sleep.”

“Please don’t do that.”

He frowned at me. “Do what?”

“Treat me as a child. I want to hear your story.”

And I truly did. I had always assumed that those who chose to be Vampires were power hungry with no character. Perhaps his story would shed light on what led him to make that decision.

He locked eyes with me and held my gaze. “Her father would have killed me if he had learned of her condition. That’s not an exaggeration. One night we fled. We walked for days until we found an unfortified settlement. They had a tavern for villagers and travelers, and the owner offered us a small room big enough to stretch out on the floor. We slept on hay, as I recall.”

“How did you pay him? Or did people just let you stay for free?”

“Bartering was currency. I paid him with a bronze trinket we stole from Matilda’s father. We didn’t know where we wanted to settle since traveling was dangerous, so Matilda served ale in his establishment. In return, he fed us. She told me some of the customers were rough. One traveler in particular was slighted when she refused his lascivious offer of sex in exchange for silver coins. At that time, I was working for a herder, hoping to learn his trade and maybe earn myself a sheep or two. Without a horse, it took hours to get back to the inn, especially during the rainy weeks.” He shook his head. “All that mud.”

“She was there by herself? How dreadful.” The reality of it sent a chill down my spine.

“I thought about sending her back home,” he admitted. “But I was selfish and wanted to take care of my family even if I didn’t have the means. The baby would have had a better life had she gone back.”

“Are you certain of that? I once met an ancient who told me unwanted babies were sold as servants or slaves. Some were thrown to the wolves to avoid scandal.”

Thinking about it made me cradle my belly protectively.

Atticus faced forward, the firelight outlining his handsome face. “The man who offered her silver coins for sex returned. I confronted him, but he frightened me. Not just the demonic tattoo on his neck but his black eyes. They were soulless, and he looked at me like a hungry cat looks at a mouse before he eats it. One evening, I came home late and discovered everyone in that village dead. Every man, every woman, every child. They were all laid out in the open by the torches.”

My jaw slackened. “What?”

“He killed them all, including Matilda… and my unborn child.” Atticus briefly closed his eyes as he recounted what must have been the worst night of his life. “She was as far along as you are now. When I found her that way, I lost my mind. She was stretched across a barroom table by the fireplace. I felt her belly, hoping that the baby might be alive, but even if it was, I wouldn’t have had the courage to do anything about it.” Atticus sighed. “I shouldn’t tell you such dark stories.”

I put my feet down and scooted beside him. Although three thousand years had passed, tears glimmered in his eyes. It moved me, and I held his hand.

“I caught him sitting at his usual table with a goblet in front of him. He said it was filled with her blood and it tasted sweet.”

“How barbaric. Atticus, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t understand what he was until years later. He laid waste to everyone in the village and blamed it on me. He promised that I would live out the rest of my worthless days with the guilt of what I’d done. I stabbed him, but he laughed. Then he bit my neck and drained me until I was too weak to fight.”

I squeezed his hand. “Your maker?”

“No. After finishing his drink, he strolled out the door. Four years later, I met another man like him. Same eyes, same stoic countenance, same fangs. But it wasn’t him. Back then, there were no Breed laws. Some revealed themselves to humans, others didn’t. He wanted to know why I had so many questions, so I told him my story. I offered to pay him or be his servant if he would hunt down Matilda’s killer.”

“Did he?”

Atticus focused on my lips. “No, my lady. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: A lifetime to hunt down my own enemy. To have the strength to fight him. To make him pay for his crimes. My maker was a decent man, but he lived in a coven. They banded together for protection and traveled as a group. Once I got through the bloodlust stage, he gave me the choice of staying with them or hunting my enemy. I stayed for a few years while learning how to use my new gifts.”

“Did you ever find the killer?”

His fangs elongated. “I wasted hundreds of years searching before I realized I would never find him. The world was too big, and traveling took forever. I quit holding on to the hate. It ruined me.” His eyes flicked down to my belly. “But I thought about the baby for years, even after I’d accepted Matilda’s death. She had a short life, but my child never had a chance. We had options even back then, but we wanted that baby. I gave up everything to avenge her death, but I don’t regret my decision. I’ve had many adventures, and I only used my wrath on men who deserved it.” Atticus shut his eyes. “All the generations that could have come from me. All that loss just because of one egotistical Vampire who was rejected in a tavern.”

I nestled against him. “You must think I’m an awful person for considering adoption.”

He placed his hand on my belly, and the baby moved. “Like I said before, you’re a woman who has a right to her decisions. Should you choose to give this baby up, I’ll make sure it has what it needs for all its days.”

My breath hitched. “You would do that?”

He moved his hand lower. “I think before you make any decision, you need to come to terms with your feelings. I see myself in you. A disconnect. It’s a defense mechanism I know all too well.” His voice drew closer. “What they did to you was wrong, but it wasn’t your fault.”

We moved into an embrace that felt so natural, and Atticus rested his chin on top of my head. It was nice to be held and feel close to someone. Poor Atticus. It pained me to think of his rough beginnings. Mine paled in comparison.

“I’m sorry about your family,” I said against his chest. “And I’m sorry I’ve judged you so harshly.”

“I’m not sinless, but I’ve done my best to protect the innocent.” When he stroked his fingers in a slow circle on my lower belly, the kicking ceased.

Suddenly his touch hit me in the most unexpected way. I hadn’t been stroked intimately by a man in so long that my hormones shot off preliminary fireworks.

What is wrong with me? He just told me the most tragic story of his life, and all I can think about is him sliding his hand inside my panties.

Searching for a distraction, I switched topics. “Have you ever made a youngling?”

“What brought that question up?”

“Well, you obviously can’t have children, but don’t Vampires consider their younglings progeny? Your blood makes them immortal.”

His pulse jumped.

I leaned back, wondering if I’d struck a nerve. “I’m prying too much into your personal life tonight.”

“No, it’s not you.” He gave a hollow smile while staring at the fire. “No one ever asked out of genuine interest. Only enemies who wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have younglings coming after them.” He put his hand back on my belly as if it belonged there. “I once turned a man in my eight hundredth year. Traveling alone in those days was an arduous experience, and companions offered protection. But I did a poor job teaching my youngling how to control his bloodlust. An elder found him draining three humans by the water. This was during the Roman Empire when we lived in Rome. Vampire elders passed judgment on crimes to keep us under control.”

“You lived in Rome?” My head was spinning with questions about all the great leaders I’d read about.

“It wasn’t as glamorous as it sounds.” He smiled ruefully. “I had to testify against my youngling, and they executed him.”

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not. He was a pathetic waste of immortality. His victims were in the wrong place at the wrong time, as they say. It hardly seems to matter now, but time was all they had, and he took that away. That wasn’t the mark I wanted to leave on this world.”

While Atticus spoke, he caressed my belly, and between the ambience of the warm fireplace and the realization that my robe had opened in the front, I was having illicit thoughts about coupling with a Vampire.

His dark eyes watched me intently. “You’re not in pain, are you?”

Pain? He had no idea.

I never wanted him to stop touching me, and my fantasies were spinning at the thought of his hand sliding between my legs. And as of late, my sexual appetite had only increased, which had made being in a fake relationship even more difficult. All I wanted was to feel passion again.

I brazenly gripped his wrist and moved his hand to my breast. He kneaded it softly, his thumb brushing over my nipple.

Atticus retracted his hand. “It’s late, and… it wasn’t my intention to take advantage of you.”

I drew back to see his face. “Am I not your type?”

His voice softened. “You’re the most radiant star in the universe, but you’re too pure for my touch.”

Too pure? Is he mocking me?

Feeling the sting of rejection, I got up and stalked out of the room. “Good night, Mr. Rain.”

Night-lights flicked on as I passed them in the hall and on the stairs. Once inside my room, I threw my robe onto a chair, nearly knocking over the flowers. No man had ever wooed me better, and yet… I was too pure? What did that even mean?

Does he think I’m a virgin who was kidnapped by crazed scientists? Maybe my body is a turnoff.

“I can charm people for information, but I can’t read minds.” Atticus leaned against the doorjamb. “What just happened?”

“If you think I’m a pure soul, you have the wrong woman.” I erased the distance between us. “There was a time when I made more money offstage than on. It started with private performances for parties, but then I received offers from wealthy men who wanted companionship. Am I proud of what I’ve done? No. But as a single woman in a world built by men, I did whatever it took to secure a future. Nobody forced me. They were my choices.”

“And those choices don’t affect the purity of your spirit. I’ve done things, Joy. Terrible things. But we do what we must to survive.” He caressed my cheek. “You’re the reason the moon rises in the night sky.”

“You say such beautiful things and woo me with fruits, flowers, and gifts. But what does that mean if you won’t even touch me? Am I not your type? That’s it, isn’t it? I’m not that same woman you first met all those months ago who looked like a starlet.”

He shook his head. “You’ve spent your life as a reflection of someone else and lost sight of your own beauty. People worship the sun, but the moon is a jewel in the night. As it so happens, I find you more attractive now than when we first met.” He ensnared my waist and pulled me close, his lips just a breath away. “I crave you like I’ve never craved anyone or anything.” Atticus moved his lips so close to mine they almost touched. “If you were mine, I would worship your body until you lost your voice from screaming my name.”

Desire pulsed between my legs, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Instead of kissing me, he pressed his forehead against mine. “I can’t risk it.”

I stared at his luscious lips, tempted to make the first move. “Because you’ve only been with Vampires?”

“I can’t risk doing anything that might accidentally harm the baby. And I don’t want you to think I’m using my powers to seduce you.”

“I know you’re not.” I caressed his nape with my fingertips and basked in the energy crackling between us. “That’s why I want you.”

He fastened his gaze on mine. “You want me?”

I closed my eyes and leaned in just enough to initiate the kiss. When our lips met, it was molten and set my heart racing. He kissed me slowly, reverently, with every fiber of his being. Atticus was an incredible kisser, and the moment our tongues touched, he squeezed me tighter.

“Oh my,” I said on a breath.

Why are my feelings so powerful for this man?

Because now I knew about his past—Atticus was a protector. He didn’t treat me like a commodity. With his money and looks, he could have anyone. But instead, he bent over backward for a pregnant Shifter he barely knew and never asked for anything in return.

A peace came over me, and I wondered if my wolves were aware of my feelings. Why weren’t they afraid of a Vampire? Why were they silent?

Atticus stroked my back as he kissed me, and when the kiss deepened, so did my desire.

Walk me to the bed , I thought, wishing he could read my mind. Take off my panties. Lift my gown. Make me feel things I’ve never felt before.

When his kiss tapered to a simmering touch of the lips, he loosened his hold. “You need rest. Is there anything you desire?”

Was he really going to leave me in this tortured state? The disappointment must have been splashed all over my face. “I suppose there’s one thing I need.”

“Anything,” he whispered in my ear. “Command me to do your bidding.”

“Are you certain about that?”

He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Name it, and it’s yours. The moon. The stars. Your sworn enemies. Diamonds.”

“I’d settle for a vibrator.”