Microsoft Word - Blood and Sex from CE.rtf (17 page)

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“I’m not crying.”

“Okay…why are you sad, then?”

“I…I...” She started crying harder. “I don’t know.”

If there was one thing he couldn’t handle, it was a crying woman. They always had a way of disarming him and making him feel weak. Some sort of strange protective instinct came out in him that could only be trumped by babies—which no one ever needed to know.

“What’s wrong?” Blane scooted closer and pulled her into his arms.

Her face buried against his chest. “I heard what she said.”

Oh
. “She’s just a crazy bitch.”

“But she’s right.”

“How?”

“I always deny how I feel.”

“We all do. It’s part of life.”

“I have to be this way. Everyone else can stop, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m Khalil’s
daughter
. I’m expected to be this way, but then everyone thinks I’m cold.”

She leaned back, diluted mascara streaked down her face. “I can’t even find a
compagno
of my own. Do you know when the last time I had sex was? Other than you?”

He didn’t guess. “Why do you think that is?”

“I can feel it. I know how uncomfortable I make them when all the other women turn them on. I just don’t know why.”

“It’s only because you’re the leader’s progeny. You’re sort of off limits.” That wasn’t exactly true. She was also too much of a challenge.

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“But you slept with me.”

“I know. I’m a glutton for punishment.”

She leaned into his chest again, sobbing. “And you regret it.” She let out a bark of a laugh. “You thought I was gay.”

“It’s okay if you are.”

“I’m not!”

“You like Isabella.”

“No.” She groaned in frustration. “She used her influence on me, and I can’t make myself stop falling for it. You don’t fall for it. She’s tried every time to control you, and you don’t even notice.”

Interesting
. Blane took her face in his hands and wiped the mascara away with his thumbs. She looked so vulnerable that his heart ached. Her face was almost childlike again and her eyes were filled with confusion. It was almost as if she had no idea how to be an adult or how to live without so many rules, despite her centuries of life. Maybe she’d never given herself permission. “Christiana, how old were you when you met Khalil?”

“Eight.”

He blinked in horror. “How?”

“I was a gift to him.” She closed her eyes, but he held her face steady. “My mother was a proud woman, an illegitimate daughter of Henry the Eighth. Of course, she was never officially acknowledged, but we were well kept. Spoiled, even. Nothing stopped her from what she wanted. She gave me to him to persuade him to change her.”

“Did he?”

Her eyes popped open. “No. He just took my hand and walked me out of the house. I

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heard her scream, but I didn’t know she died until I heard Khamar talking about it the next night.”

The limo stopped, and Blane didn’t wait for the chauffer. He opened the door, then put an arm around her, helping her up to the room without speaking another word. There were too many to speak. His mind was too full of questions, all about how she’d been a child growing up in a
cosca
of vampires. And Khamar—Khalil’s brother must have loved frightening her as he did everyone else.

Inside the room, he closed the door and helped her to the bed. As she slid onto the mattress, he said, “You were actually raised by vampires?”

“Yes.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. What had she seen as a child? The knowledge of their existence and nature was enough to break many human adults mentally. “I’m amazed they didn’t kill you. Did they…uh…” He couldn’t bear to ask if they’d raped her or drank from her on a regular basis. The truth would be too horrible.

“Khalil was my father from the start. He punished anyone who so much as made me cry.”

“But he still changed you.”

“I had to work for it. He refused for years. He tried to make me marry a human, but I begged. I had nothing in common with them, and he didn’t have the heart to force me.” She sniffed and curled up on the bed. “It took tuberculosis to finally convince him.”

Khalil was a much better person than Blane had ever given him credit for. “And he didn’t want to take you for himself?”

She shook her head. “I tried for a time, when I thought I was in love with him. He just always said I was meant for someone else, that he would always have the love of a father for

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me.” She sat up quickly and used the bed to steady herself. “I need to take this dress off.”

Blane offered a hand and helped her to her feet.

She turned her back to him. “Unzip me.”

He did as she asked, then took off his own coat and tie as she went to the bathroom. If Christiana had been with Khalil since she was turned, her entire life had been spent in the crazy circus of his reign as their Council. It certainly explained her need to meet everyone else’s expectations. It was time for her to learn what it meant to live.

“You need to break a few rules, Princess. Have you thought about moving away from him for a while?”

Christiana wiped away the ruined mascara in the mirror. Her head was still a little funny, like the world wasn’t solid anymore, but she could at least think and walk now. Her head was still swimming a little with the effects of whatever Isabella had given her, but she could feel his concern for her. It wasn’t as strong as when she’d first told him about her childhood, but it was as sincere. And sweet. “I did live in France alone for a time. But I got lonely and tired of having bodyguards everywhere I went.”

Blane was pacing in the other room. “How long ago was that?”

She hooked the gown on the hanger on the back of the door and grabbed her long black nightgown. “I guess it was the thirties.”

“The nineteen thirties?”

“Yes.” She stepped into the room.

His eyes went immediately to the slit up to the hip in the nightgown. His mood reacted, too. “Um. I’m going to go to my room because you need to sleep this off.” He started toward the door. “I’ll leave the window open on my side, so just call me if you need me.”

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“Don’t go.” She stepped in front of his path and put a hand on his firm chest. That shirt needed to go so she could see his hard muscles.

Blane stiffened, but didn’t push her away. “Not when you’re drugged.”

“I’m thinking more clearly than ever, Blane.” It was true. She was relaxed and knew exactly what she wanted.

“No, you’re not. You can’t even walk straight.”

“That doesn’t affect my thinking.” She trailed the hand from his chest to his neck. For the briefest moment, his eyes closed.

“Sleep well, Christiana,” he whispered. Then he was out the door before she could say another word.

She cursed and fell to the bed, plopping down hard enough to make her head spin again.

The jab to her pride brought a dull ache in her chest. The one time she ventured after what she wanted, and he rejected her. He just stood there and turned away from her when she was practically throwing herself at him. It wasn’t fair, and—

And she was beginning to sound like a whining child.

What was it Blane had said? That she needed to break the rules? Being with him would certainly do that.

Christiana stood, moved to the open doors, and walked onto the balcony. As she’d suspected, Blane’s doors were open. She stepped up onto the railing, then leapt to the other balcony. Inside, the bathroom door was open with light spilling into the darkened bedroom, and the sound of the shower filled the room.

She moved quietly to the bathroom doorway and peeked around. Behind the fogged glass was the dim image of Blane pushing the wet hair back from his face. That lovely inverted

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triangle of his body, from those wide shoulders to narrow hips, made something quiver inside her. Then his body turned to the side. An erection stood away from his hips in stark relief.

Frustration and desire radiated from him.

Christiana stepped back into the dark room and pulled the gown over her head. She tossed it onto the floor and waited as the shower shut off. She would have another night with him, no matter what that meant to everyone else. She needed to feel him inside her, needed those strong hands sliding up her hips.

When Blane finally moved into the dark room, he was toweling his hair dry. He tossed the towel to the floor. Water rolled down the planes of his muscled chest and glistened in the dim light of the room.

She darted in front of him.

His eyes went up and down the length of her body. “I’m not arguing this time.”

“Good.”

She pressed her body against his and pulled his face down to hers. His lips were hard and hungry. Almost as hard as his fingers gripping her hips.

Christiana walked forward, pushing Blane toward the wall behind him. His tongue probed her mouth, tickling her with that tongue barb. Hands moved up to her waist as he stepped backward. They stopped moving when his back hit the wall.

She pulled away from the kiss, gasping, and started to kiss a line down his abdomen. At his navel, she swirled her tongue, then licked a long line back up his chest.