First Drop of Crimson (17 page)

When they arrived at the ballroom, Spade took Denise’s gloved hand in his, the other placed at her waist.

“Do you know how to waltz?” he asked, bending low more for the enjoyment of feeling her skin so close to his lips than out of concern for anyone overhearing his question.

“Yes. I—
we
—took lessons before my wedding,” she replied.

A flicker of grief passed over Denise’s face before it was gone, replaced by a veiled anticipation that had nothing to do with memories of her slain husband when Spade pulled her closer.

“I was taught when I was a boy. Every nobleman’s son was expected to know how to waltz, to ride, to shoot, and to tend to their estate.” Spade led her along to the sedate music as he spoke, giving her time to find the rhythm and relax into the steps.

“It’s so hard to imagine you as a child.” Her mask did nothing to hide the frank inquisitiveness in her expression. “What was it like, back then?”

“The setting was different.” He gave her a jaded smile. “But people don’t change, not even over the course of millennia. When I was a boy, everything was titles, estates, and royal favor. Today it’s degrees, jobs, and retirement portfolios. The motivation remains the same, however; caring for those who belong to you. Protecting them from harm. Trying to carve out a little happiness. It was that way then and it is that way now.”

Denise didn’t say anything for several moments. Spade studied her, not bothering to hide the intentness in his gaze. Her hair was up, but stray curls had been left deliberately trailing in places, swinging to the music as they moved. Her mask covered from her eyebrows to the top of her nose, curving around her cheekbones and leaving the lower half of her face bare. She licked her lower lip in contemplation, not knowing how that simple gesture inflamed him.

“And you met Bones on the ship to the penal colonies.” Her voice lowered. “Can I ask what you were in jail for, if it’s not too personal?”

In fact it was very personal. So much that not even Crispin knew the whole story behind it.

“My father was a good man. Stern, perhaps, but that was common for the time. Yet he had a weakness: He couldn’t stop gambling. Today he’d be called an addict, but back then, it was seen as lack of sound judgment. He’d run deeply into debt by the time I was twenty-five. I was his only son, his heir, which meant I couldn’t take to the sea or the military to garner funds to repay his debts. So I did the only thing I could—I married an heiress.”

Denise stopped dancing. “You’re
married
?” she blurted.

Several heads turned and Denise flushed. Spade bit back his laughter.

“When I was human, darling. She’s been dead these past centuries.”

The vampires around them resumed their dancing. Marriage in undead terms was far more rigid than a human marriage. He’d be risking Denise’s life if he were married by vampire law. The punishment for anyone committing adultery with a vampire’s spouse was death without reprisal, should the wronged spouse choose to exercise his or her right. With their very long lives, no wonder marriage was an uncommon state for vampires. Humans had enough trouble with marriage when it was only a half-century commitment at best.

Denise’s cheeks were still darker than her makeup accounted for. Spade didn’t mind her outburst; it pleased him. If she wasn’t jealous at the idea that he might be married, then she didn’t care for him as he wanted her to.

“You married someone for her money?” Denise whispered, disapproval clear in her tone.

He leaned down. “She married me for my title,” he whispered back. “It was mercenary the whole way ’round, I assure you.”

“Did you love her?”

As soon as Denise asked the question, she sucked in a breath, looking away. It was clear she regretted it.

He didn’t, for the same reason her jealousy had pleased him. “No, nor she me,” he replied evenly. “Madeline wanted to increase her station at court and I made no secret about needing her money. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

And a miserable one, as many arranged marriages were at the time. “Still, despite Madeline’s fat coffers, it was only a matter of time until my father was in debt once more.”

The years made it possible for Spade to recount the rest without emotion staining his tone.

“He hid it from me, at first. Explained away the letters from his acquaintances or the mutterings at court. But then when he indebted himself to the Duke of Warwick over a game of whist, and he couldn’t pay, the duke complained to the king.”

And since his father had also gotten caught bedding the lovely young duchess, Warwick had been in no mood for mercy. He’d rounded up every courtier his father owed, whipped them into a frenzy, and then implored the king for justice on behalf of all of them.

“They came for my father at night, taking him away to Newgate, where he’d rot until every last farthing was repaid,” Spade said. “Warwick knew my father wouldn’t live long enough for me to find a way to repay his debts. Even young, strong prisoners died all the time at Newgate. He’d done it not to jail him, but to kill him.”

“I can’t believe he could be jailed over
debts
,” Denise gasped.

Spade let out a wry chuckle, turning her in time to the music. “Indeed, one of the things different back then was that there was no declaring bankruptcy and going on with your life, especially if you incurred royal ire. My family’s estate was seized by the crown, Madeline left me since my title was now worthless, and my father grew ever sicker in jail. So I went to the duke to offer him a bargain: Transfer my father’s debt to me.”

The memory of that day still scalded; Warwick laughing at him, taunting him that soon he’d be burying his father, and then finally demanding that Spade beg for him to transfer the debt. Spade had done it, accepting the humiliation to secure his father’s life, not realizing that ultimately Warwick agreed only because he knew this would hurt his father more. It had. His father drank himself to death less than two years after Spade’s deportation.

“But you knew you’d go to jail…”

“Denise.” Spade held her gaze. “I had nothing left to lose but my freedom, and I knew after a time, I’d get that back. Yet my father would have surely died in prison. What choice did I have?”

He knew that she of all people would understand, considering how Denise had endangered herself for her family these past few weeks. It was yet another thing they had in common.

She sighed. “So that’s why you were sent to jail.”

“Didn’t expect my sentence to be different than my father’s, but Warwick thought it would be grand fun to convince the king that I would be more useful to the crown sent to the New South Wales colonies than just sitting in prison. And on the voyage there is where I met Crispin, Ian, and Timothy.”

“And became friends.” Her voice was soft.

“Not at first.” Spade raised a brow. “Me, the future Earl of Ashcroft, chained to common miscreants who’d no doubt earned every moment of their sentences? I didn’t deign to even speak to them for days.”

Denise smiled at his deliberately haughty tone. “What broke the ice?”

“After several days of enduring my silent disdain, Ian began to bait me. Said I must have been the bastard son of a fishmonger born with no tongue, or some such. Finally I informed them all rather snootily that I was Baron Charles Thomas DeMortimer, a nobleman and not deserving of my circumstances. I thought Crispin had been sleeping, but at that, he opened one eye and said, ‘DeMortimer, aye? Blue bedchamber, purple drapes, bloody what were you thinking with all those peacock feathers everywhere?’”

It took Denise a second, but then her eyes widened. “Your wife was one of the women who hired Bones back when he was a gigolo?”

Spade laughed. “I was terribly insulted at the time, but the voyage was too horrible to concern myself with that for long. We nearly died on the way to the colonies. Once there, we nearly died again under the overseer. We only had each other to depend on, and I grew to care for them as if they were family.”

“Whatever happened to Timothy? I don’t think I ever saw him around Bones or Cat.”

“He went on sabbatical a long time ago, searching for proof that Cain, father of all vampires, was still alive. In truth, I suspect somewhere along the way, Timothy was killed. None of us have heard from him in over eighty years.”

She looked wistful. “I’m sorry to hear that, but at least you, Ian, and Bones stayed friends all these years.”

“Sometimes good comes out of even terrible circumstances,” Spade said quietly.

Denise looked away. She thought he was referring to Randy, but Spade would be the last person to spout nonsense about looking for the good out of the murder of a loved one. He meant the demon brands that had led Denise to him. They’d both lost loved ones for no other reason than life being cruel at times, but despite that, perhaps they could find happiness again, with each other.

Spade tensed, feeling the encroaching power even before the light tap on his shoulder.

“May I cut in?” Web asked pleasantly.

Denise fixed a polite smile on her face as Spade relinquished his hold on her and she stepped into Web’s arms. He wasn’t as tall as Spade, so she didn’t need to look up very far to meet his cool cobalt gaze.

“Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” Denise asked, playing her part as the polite hostess.

“It’s been interesting,” Web replied. A smile twisted his lips. “It’s not every day a noted Master vampire abruptly decides to move next door…with his human girlfriend.”

Even though she had no intention of pursuing Nathanial anymore, Denise wasn’t about to let Web harbor any suspicions over Spade’s claim. After all, lovers broke up all the time. Her leaving tomorrow didn’t have to be seen as anything but another relationship gone sour.

“What’s not to love about Monaco?” Denise asked with as much of a shrug as she could manage while waltzing. “And everyone starts out as human before they become something else,” she added with a slanted glance upward.

Web chuckled in a way that didn’t ease her tension. “You’re quick, aren’t you? Now I’m even more intrigued.”

That was going in the opposite direction than she’d intended. Okay, one shallow, uninteresting female, coming up.

“I just love your girlfriend’s purse,” Denise said with the proper amount of feminine gushing. “Is it Versace? Versace’s my favorite. Oh, well, maybe Gucci, too, but they haven’t had anything really
good
come out lately, you know? And oh, you
have
to tell me where she got her shoes from. Mine are Escada, but you know, I really think I should have gotten Stuart Weitzman instead. They’re a much better bargain considering what these cost…”

A glazed look descended over Web’s half-covered face as Denise went on about the inadequacies of different designers, ticking off her list of bests and worsts for purses, shoes, and dresses. By the time the music ended and Spade walked up, Web almost shoved her back into his arms.

“A pleasure,” he managed before stalking away.

Spade whirled Denise around so that his back was to Web, a devilish smile curling his mouth as he led her deeper amid the other dancers.

“That was brilliant,” he whispered, so close to her ear any observer would think he was just nuzzling her.

She smiled, pleased at the compliment. “I didn’t even get a chance to talk about my most and least favorite jewelers,” she teased, her voice also just a whisper.

Spade laughed, brushing his mouth across her neck. “Tell me. I promise to be fascinated.”

Denise couldn’t stop the tremor that went through her at the feel of his lips on her skin.
It’s only an act
, she reminded herself.

Her body disagreed. Heat rose up inside her as Spade lingered, his mouth alternately brushing or hovering over her skin. His one hand still grasped hers in the proper waltz fashion, but his other caressed her back instead of staying at her waist, pressing her much closer than the formal dance dictated.

Denise cleared her throat, mindful of all the people who might be watching.

“Stop, dear. We have guests, so you can’t follow through,” she said, her voice breathier from his mouth sliding up her neck to her cheek.

“Oh?” His voice was a low growl. “I can if I take you upstairs.”

The instant clench in her loins made her gasp.
It’s only an act, dammit!

“We have guests,” she repeated, her voice rougher than her charade dictated.

“They’ll manage.” Two words, full of promise.

Denise drew back, forcing a smile to her lips. No matter how Spade was affecting her, his actions and this offer weren’t real. Spade was pretending, same as actors around the world did for movie love scenes every day.

“Really, don’t be such a tease. You know we can’t leave yet,” she said, this time managing to sound affectionate and chiding at the same time. Just as a normal girlfriend would under the circumstances.

Spade’s eyes changed from tiger brown to green in an instant. “I never tease,” he replied, each word emphasized. Then he swept her up in his arms, striding off the dance floor.

Spade ignored Denise’s stunned whisper to put her down. “I thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen,” he called out. “Even though I take my leave of you, please, stay as long as you wish. I look forward to seeing all of you again soon.”

Denise felt her face flame as Spade carried her past the people in the ballroom as nonchalantly as if what he was doing wasn’t outrageous. The knowing laughter by a few of the vampires they passed didn’t help her growing embarrassment, either. It was one thing for Spade to act affectionate;
another
to publicly carry her off in a feigned burst of passion.

The only reason she quit arguing was that she caught Web’s speculative look out of the corner of her eye as Spade swept past him. Web was too dangerous to let him become suspicious. After all, Spade had killed Web’s dealer, Black Jack, only a few days ago. Web had to wonder who’d done it, and he’d already expressed skepticism at Spade moving in next door with his shockingly alive girlfriend.

Denise kept her mouth shut the whole way up the flight of stairs to the third floor. She didn’t say anything even when Spade carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. When he set her down, though, she immediately shoved him back, giving him an annoyed look as she crossed the room to turn on the television. Loudly.

“That was over the top,” she hissed, surprised to see Spade right behind her when she turned around. He’d somehow already taken off his mask, sword, and jacket, and was now untying the complicated, elegant knot at his throat.

She swallowed hard. Maybe the costume had been uncomfortable?

“I disagree,” Spade replied, drawing the knot free before unbuttoning his shirt so quickly, his hand was only a blur. His eyes were still emerald-green, locking with hers in a way that made her breath catch.

You’ve seen him take off his shirt before, don’t read anything into it
, Denise scolded herself, stepping to the side to walk past him.

His arm shot out, bracing against the wall unit and blocking her path. What sort of game was he playing?

“Spade—”

She didn’t get the rest of the sentence out, because suddenly his mouth was on her neck, lips and tongue probing her pulse to send a luscious shiver through her. His arm remained where it was, an open barrier she could escape, if she wanted to.

Denise took in a shuddering breath, forcing back the heat that raced below her belly. “Stop it. I’m not like you. That sort of thing affects me even if I know it’s fake.”

A low laugh sounded in her ear. “It’s supposed to affect you,” Spade said, biting her earlobe gently. “And at no time have I ever touched you where it’s been anything but real.”

He drew her mask off as he spoke, his other hand still braced against the wall unit. Two light tugs and her earrings were removed, then Spade took out the combs holding up her hair.

Denise froze, her emotions in a death match with the desire sweeping through her. What had changed his mind about her, she didn’t know, but Spade’s intentions were clear. She could have him now, and oh,
she wanted him
. Her body almost trembled with need, especially with Spade’s mouth continuing its sultry path down her neck.

But no matter how much she wanted him, she was leaving tomorrow. Was this Spade’s going-away present?

“Stop,” Denise said, her voice quiet but sharp. “Yes, you’re affecting me, but I’m not into mercy screws, casual sex,
or
one-night stands.”

She expected anger, laughter, or a shrug before he turned away, but Spade drew off his shirt instead.

“Did you hear me?” Denise asked, trying not to stare at his pale, muscular chest or that hard, flat stomach with its narrow line of black hair disappearing into his pants.

A brow arched before he bent to tug off his boots. “I did indeed, but none of those apply, so I’m not concerned.”

God, he’d be naked soon. A memory of what he’d looked like in the shower made her fists clench. That throb in her loins increased until it was so strong, Spade had to hear it.

He was beside her again in the next heartbeat, his hands caressing her face, lips so close to hers she could almost taste them.

“There’s nothing casual about my feelings for you, Denise,” he whispered. His voice deepened. “And I have no intention of letting you go anywhere tomorrow, or the next day, or the next.”

His mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp as he pulled her to him. Spade’s tongue probed past her lips in sensual demand, making heat scorch up her spine. She opened her mouth, groaning at the sensual flicks of his tongue combined with the hard feel of his body pressed along hers.

A sliver of fear shot through her when she felt his fangs lengthen, their sharpness grazing her tongue as she explored his mouth. What if they nicked her and he was thrown into a bloodlust again? She hadn’t even tried to stop him when he drank her before; it had felt too good. If Spade inadvertently drew her blood while they were making love, he might lose control and end up killing her—and she might not even notice until she woke up dead.

“Wait,” she said, turning her head away from his deep, drugging kisses.

He stopped, one hand still tangled in her hair while a cooler draft on her back let her know the other had been unzipping her dress. “Too fast?” he muttered thickly.

The blazing heat in his gaze almost made Denise throw caution to the winds and not voice her concern, but it
was
a matter of life and death. “Your fangs. Can’t you make them…go away so you don’t accidentally bite me?”

Spade’s laugh was soft and wicked. “Oh, I have every intention of biting you, but don’t fret; I won’t break your skin.”

“What?” she gasped, but he just laughed again. That cool draft increased as he picked her up, her dress somehow in a heap on the floor next to his pants. Denise blinked. How had he gotten their clothes off so fast?

Her breath caught as she felt the softness of the bed at her back in the next instant. Spade crouched over her, completely naked, so large and so gorgeous, she could only stare. His body was even more muscular up close, his shoulders wide enough that they cut off her view of the rest of the room. Denise traced her hands down his arms, feeling the thick, corded muscles tighten as he leaned down to kiss her again.

She opened her mouth, relishing the skillful thrust of his tongue as it teased and stroked along hers. His fingers slid down her arm, catching the edge of her glove before pulling it down, bit by bit, until it was off. Then he repeated the action with her other glove. When her arms were bare, Spade drew back. His hair fell over his face, eyes glittering through the black strands as he slowly kissed each of her forearms, tracing his lips and his tongue over the intricate tattoos that covered her brands.

The erotic feel of his mouth was enough to make her almost close her eyes in bliss, but that would have cut off her view of the magnificent male poised over her. In that moment, his gaze flashing emerald, fangs extending from his upper teeth, pale, powerful body absolutely still except for his caressing mouth, Spade had never looked more inhuman—or sensual.

A wild, primal hunger filled her. Denise didn’t just want to make love to him. She wanted to devour him.

She slid down, pulling him on top of her. Spade balanced his weight, pressing her against the bed without crushing her. He kissed her, letting out a groan when she opened her legs and rubbed herself against the long, thick length of him.

“Do that again,” he rasped.

The pressure at her core inflamed her, sending waves of need crashing through her. Denise arched against him once more, letting out a choked moan as Spade undulated his hips. His pelvis rubbed again her clitoris in a deep caress, the heavy length of him pushing against the barrier of her underwear.

What had started out as a sweet ache in her loins turned feverish. She ran her hands down Spade’s back to his hips, digging her nails into those rounded muscles and pressing him closer in greedy demand.

Denise tore her mouth away from his. “Now,” she whispered raggedly, arching against him, crying out in pleasure at the friction, but also in frustration at the material that prevented him from being inside her.

Spade yanked down her bustier, and it came apart in his hand. He tossed it away, his mouth closing over her nipple and sucking so firmly, Denise was sure his fangs would pierce it. Then she quit caring about that at the bombardment of pleasure shooting from her breast, making that throb inside her almost unbearable. She twisted underneath him, her hand descending between them to pull aside her panties, but Spade caught it. He drew both her wrists over her head, holding them with one hand, using the other to pull her underwear down her legs so slowly, Denise was sweating by the time it cleared her ankles.

“Don’t tease me,” she moaned.

Spade gave her breast a last lick before moving up to slant his mouth over hers, spreading her legs farther apart with his knees.

“I told you, darling—I don’t tease,” he said when he broke away, Denise gasping in a breath after his long, passionate kiss.

That gasp turned into a rising moan as Spade’s mouth descended between her legs. His tongue raked her flesh, licking and probing where that throbbing ache was the strongest. Heat engulfed her, filling her veins with honeyed flames as that wet, flexible pressure alternated between flicking her clitoris to delving inside her depths. She arched, writhing in wordless demand to feel more. Spade yanked her closer, pulling her leg around his back, his tongue moving in firm, ceaseless strokes.

The ever-tightening bands of ecstasy inside her were about to snap. As her last coherent thought, Denise sank her hands into Spade’s shoulders and pulled at him, hard, sliding down at the same time.

“Now,” she almost shouted.

He was on top of her in the next moment, his mouth stealing her breath with a richly flavored kiss, his hand holding her thigh as he lowered his hips. The first hard breach of his flesh into hers made her loins contract with an almost painful pleasure. The second, deeper thrust had her moaning into his mouth at the thick feel of him stretching her inner flesh. The third stroke buried him fully inside her, and when he undulated his pelvis against her at the same time, the fullness combined with erotic pressure made pleasure burst within her.

Denise cried out at the climax rippling through her, sending rapturous contractions through her loins. Another deep grind of Spade’s body intensified those ripples, prolonging them while that hungry ache inside her changed to sweet, glowing satisfaction.

She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes until she opened them to see Spade’s blazing green gaze. His hair fell around his face in black waves and his expression was sheer lustful intentness as he watched the last tremors of orgasm shake her.

“I want to feel that again,” he said, his tone darkly resonant.

Denise slid her hands from his back to tangle in his hair. “You first.”

His lips curled as he slowly drew out of her. “I love your voice this way,” he murmured, kissing her jaw while her nerve endings shivered with anticipation at that hard length entering her again. “Such a throaty purr, so enticing…say something else.”

He thrust into her as he spoke, a long, languid stroke that made her moan instead of speak. Just as before, his hips flexed right when he was deepest inside her, rubbing against her most sensitive spot even as that fullness felt almost overwhelming.

“Spade…yes…”

She couldn’t manage to say more, even
think
more. Her hands crept down his back, feeling his muscles bunch as another long thrust and rock of his hips made her mind go numb and her body come alive. She curled her legs around him, gasping as he moved even deeper, wanting more though she wasn’t sure she could stand it.

“Ah, darling, you’re burning me in the sweetest way,” he muttered, hooking her knee under his arm to hold her lower body tighter to him. Another thrust closed her eyes at the building pressure inside her, returning with amazing swiftness after her recent release. The combination of those deep, seeking thrusts and that erotic massaging of her clitoris had her rocking against Spade in blind need.

He kissed her, plundering her mouth with the same passion that had her straining toward him. Denise slid her tongue between his fangs to suck his, consumed by the taste and feel of him. His arms were a pale cage around her, his weight pinning her to the mattress, hips meting out incredible pleasure with each mind-blowing thrust.

She started to whimper, her hands alternately clenching or raking down his back. The hard rhythm inside her was too much, not enough, and
so good
all at the same time.

“Please,” she moaned against his mouth.

Spade pulled away, drawing her other knee under his arm and holding both of them in a firm grip. He shifted so her hips lifted, and when he thrust forward, the hard length of him pushed even deeper inside her. She cried out, the fullness too intense but somehow addictive, that sensual grinding almost constant in this position.

She couldn’t reach his mouth, but his chest brushed her lips. Denise kissed it, savoring the hardness and the roping muscles moving underneath that smooth pale skin. She caught his nipple in her mouth, sucking, aroused even more by his groan in response.

Those hard strokes inside her increased in pace, inflaming her. She sucked harder, pinching his other nipple. His grip tightened.

“More.” A hoarse command punctuated by a deep roll of his hips that almost made stars appear in her vision.

Denise divided her attention between his nipples, sucking, licking, and biting each of them. Her mind began to whirl as Spade kept increasing the rhythm of his thrusts. Pleasure narrowed her consciousness until she felt like her world consisted of nothing but this bed and the two of them. That inner tension kept growing, twisting and clenching her body tighter around him while her pulse seemed to thunder out of control.

“Come with me, come with me now,” she gasped, feeling the pressure about to burst inside her.