Avador Book 2, Night Shadows (26 page)

"What?" Her face warmed. For one stunned moment, she remained speechless, but then her indignation caught up with her mouth. "That means I can't go outside at all during the day! Am I to be a prisoner here?" Before he could reply, she went on, "What is the reason for this prohibition?"

He spoke calmly, as if unaware of her pique, or possibly too well aware. "I doubt if we've seen the last of Angus Kendall. There is nothing to stop him from discovering where I live, and he may well hunt you down here. No matter how loyal the undead are to me–and some of them remain a question–there are far too many of them who can't keep a secret. Gold talks, you know." He sipped his wine and set the glass down, giving her a look of stern remonstrance. "I can't take a chance on having something happen to you." He reached over and clasped her hand. "You mean too much to me."

She squeezed his hand in return but remained unmollified.  She swallowed. "I was looking forward to going for long walks, seeing the other houses and the countryside. I can't stand being cooped up." The chicken, tender and juicy, broke off easily with her spoon, and she raised a bite to her mouth. No matter how upset she was at his pronouncement, it would do no good for her to starve herself.

He spoke with a sympathetic but firm voice. "Believe me, I understand how you feel. I'd feel the same. Let us hope that Kendall will soon tire of his pursuit. But his kind doesn't give up easily, one thing I've learned in my life. Possibly I should have used stronger persuasion when I evicted him from the tavern." 

She reached for her wine glass. " 'Stronger persuasion'? Like what?"

He raised his glass to his mouth and smiled above the rim. "Roughed him up a little."

"Are you sure you didn't kill him?"

"Positive. The man is no doubt prowling the streets of Moytura now, trying to discover where you are."

She nodded, fearing she had no choice but to follow his suggestion about staying inside. "Very well, then. I stay inside. What shall I do, help the servants clean the house?" She couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"Hardly that, but I have quite an extensive Treasury of Knowledge. Didn't you see it earlier?"

"Not closely."

"Well, I think you will find that there is plenty of extensive reading material there." He paused, fingering his glass. "This one concession I will make. You can go riding as long as you have a groom with you."

Relief infused her. "Thank the Goddess for that! I've missed riding so much. The last few times I rode–to see you when you were sick, and to Magh Eamhainn–were not exactly pleasure trips. I would love to ride just for the sheer joy of it." She ate with more gusto now, chewing on the almonds and dipping her spoon into the steamed broccoli. 

He drained his wine glass. "Very well, I'll make arrangements with my most trusted groom, but only south of here. I don't want you riding in the direction of Moytura."

She sighed, already missing the sights and sounds of the capital but accepting Gaderian's admonitions. Hungrier than she'd thought possible, she cleaned her plate. If she didn't watch out, she'd gain weight during her residence here. Residence. The word taunted her. Was her time in Gaderian's home to be only temporary? Would he soon tire of her and ask her to move out? No, she knew Gaderian better than that, knew he was sincere in asking her to live with him. Yet she still questioned her chance for a happy future with a man who lived by night and slept by day.

He glanced at her plate. "Dessert, if you like."

She placed her hand on her stomach. "No, thank you. I've had enough of a very good meal."

He shoved his chair back and rose to hold hers, then drew her into his arms. His strong arms felt so good around her, his love an anchor and a lifeline for the troubles that surely stretched ahead. 

"I must leave you for a while," he whispered against her cheek.  

"Already?" She looked up into his face and saw all the dear features that meant so much to her, his straight nose and firm mouth, those dark eyes whose gaze held such love for her. Questions still swirled around in her mind, of what lay in store for her, living with him, of what kind of agreement they could ever reach, if he wanted her as his wife.

"Must see Cedric to explain your absence and compensate him for the loss of your service." He ran his tongue along his lower lip. "Also, need to see what–if anything–I can find out about Angus Kendall. Don't worry, I'll be discreet," he said when he saw her frown. "But we need to know."

"Yes, of course, I should have realized you'd need to talk to Cedric." She wrapped her arms around his back and rested her cheeks against his shoulder, then leaned back to stare into his eyes, wishing she could read his mind, fathom the secrets hidden there.

Gentle fingers caressed her cheeks, easing strands of hair from her face. He looked long and fully into her eyes, as if he could never get his fill of her. He held her ever closer, their bodies molded as one, leaving her with no doubt of the passion that lurked within him, a passion that matched hers. His kiss was long and hard, his arms tight bands of steel. Ah, she wished the kiss would go on and on, that he didn't have to leave her this night. She wanted more than just his kisses and caresses, ached to have him inside her. Let him think she was a wanton; she didn't care.

He cupped her buttocks and held her against him until she thought she couldn't take another moment of this sweet torture, a torment that sent a rush of heat to every nerve ending in her body. She feathered kisses on his mouth and cheeks, then up to his forehead, and down to his mouth again.

"My darling!" He drew away and stood still for silent moments, his eyes closed, breathing deeply. Then he opened his eyes and looked down at her. "If I stay any longer, I'll never be able to ride to Moytura." He gave her a quick kiss. "I'll be back later," he murmured in his husky voice. "Wait up for me, if you can."

"I'll count the minutes."

He was gone then, leaving her alone and throbbing for more.

* * *

Later that night, Fianna sat at her dresser, brushing her hair until it shone. Clad in her white cotton long-sleeved nightgown, she wondered when Gaderian would return, for he had been gone for hours. She'd spent the intervening time exploring the house, especially the Treasury of Knowledge, looking forward to the next day, when she would have enough light for reading. The two oil lamps emitted insufficient light.

A light tapping on the door jarred her from her musings. She set her brush down and turned toward the door, her heart beating faster, an anticipation of she knew not what.

Gaderian stepped inside, a hesitant look on his face. "I wasn't sure if you'd still be awake." He wore a crimson silk tunic with a silver chain belt, and black trousers, with leather boots just past his ankles. His dark hair tousled, he was as handsome as ever, with his regular features, those dark eyes, and his sinewy, athletic build. Shoulders thrown back, he came toward her in that confident walk of his.

"Waiting for you," she said breathlessly, yet shyness colored her voice. She had no idea what to expect; she'd never lived with an unmarried man before. She eased the stool aside and went to him, her heart pounding each step of the way. Warmth rushed to her face and spread down to her toes.

He drew her hand to his chest, then bent low to kiss her palm, a look of wonder and adoration on his face. She gloried in his love, his devotion, for she had never known such a feeling as this, a sure knowledge that she would love this man until she died. But would he always love her?

Heat grew inside her, a yearning that suffused every part of her body and settled in her most private part, a sensation so new and overwhelming she feared her legs would give out under her.

He released her hand and stepped back. "I paid Cedric an ample amount." She wondered if his shyness matched hers, but surely not. He must be used to women, she thought, a handsome man such as he, who has known many women throughout the centuries. "Cedric misses you. Everyone at the tavern does."

"And I miss them, not that I regret coming here," she said hastily when she saw the question in his eyes. She wondered why they were discussing such mundane things, for surely he wanted her as much as she wanted him. "And Angus?" She held her breath.

"Haven't seen him, which doesn't mean he's gone. No, I don't expect him to give up so easily." He made an impatient sound, then crushed her to him. "Ah, Fianna, do you have any idea of how much I want you?"

"Um, I think I do," she said teasingly. She feathered kisses on his neck and earlobe and on to his cheeks. Their lips met in a long, lingering kiss, her arms around his neck, her body enclosed in his tight embrace.

Releasing her, he indicated a long bench that sat beneath her window. "We must talk," he said in his deep voice. His arm around her waist, he led her to the bench, where they sat down, side by side.

He turned away for a moment, resting his hands on his thighs, then turned toward her again. "There's something I've thought about for a long time, far longer than you know." He paused.

"Yes?" If her heart pounded any harder, she feared it would burst from her body.

He spoke in a rush. "Surely you know I want to marry you."

"You do?" Pure happiness engulfed her, a never-ending cascade of dreams and wishes, of deep desires and things she could only imagine.

He slipped his arm around her waist, his fingers playing across her back. He looked deeply into her eyes, as if trying to read all the secrets of her soul. "But do you want to join your life with one such as I, who lives by night and sleeps by day? Who must gain sustenance from the blood of others? These are factors we must discuss."

There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions she needed to ask. But one question remained foremost, one she feared to ask but knew she must. "Do you–" She twisted her hands in her lap. "Do you kill others for sustenance?" This enigma had taunted her for a long time, for longer than she cared to admit.

"No!" He shook his head vehemently. "Never have. That is the way of all the vampires of Avador, or should be." He frowned. "There may be one or two who don't follow the rules we established centuries ago."  

He went on to explain how the vampires had always protected the mortals from the bandregas, the bandregas' knowledge of magic and the sacred well, which enabled them to have human features. "The well that you poisoned," he concluded, "and we can only hope that is the end of those creatures." He raked his fingers through his hair. "But why are we talking about these demons, who are no more? What I want to know is, will you marry me?" She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. "You must think carefully, dearest. It will be a different life or you, far different from what you're accustomed to. Until we know what
Kendall will do, I fear you must depend on me." He smiled ruefully. "I know how much your independence means to you." He stopped talking and looked at her inquiringly. "So . . .?"

She smoothed her fingers over his hand, loving the feel of his cool skin as she sorted out her words. "But I have a question for you. Will you still love me while I grow old and gray, and you remain eternally young?"

He wrapped his fingers around her hand. "Never doubt it. I will always love you. Do you think I care for you because of your youth and good looks–and you are beautiful, you know." He shook his head. "I love you for your very self, for everything that makes you the person you are, for your goodness and spunk, and yes, your independence. My love for you will never change."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling his hard muscles against her cheek, so overcome with happiness she couldn't say a word. A drumbeat of temptation throbbed inside her, a longing to lie in bed with him, to make love that left them both breathless.

His husky voice enticed her back. "Fianna, will you marry me?"

"Yes!"

"Sweetheart!" He crushed her to him and kissed her until she thought they would both go out of their minds. She could never get enough of the taste of his lips, the pressure of his arms around her, the faint scent of cloves that always clung to him. His hand slid down to her breast, his fingers cupping the soft mound, his movements slow and deliberate. She bit her lip, at the point of bursting with passion.

He stood and drew her toward the bed, lifting her and easing her onto the velvet bedspread. Returning to the bench, he pulled his boots off, then slipped out of his tunic, trousers, and under-tunic. As he stood, she gazed at his body by the flickering oil lamp, and she could tell, ah, she could tell, he wanted her. Joining her on the bed, he raised himself and looked long and fully into her eyes, as if to ensure himself of her love and to assure her of his love for her.

Expectancy stirred within her, a sweet anticipation of what was to come, a nebulous something she had only dreamed about.

He nuzzled her neck and murmured against her skin. "We will wait until we marry before we truly seal our love. For now, let us pleasure each other." Placing soft kisses from her mouth to her cheeks and on to her throat, his hands moved lightly, seductively, over her body. A pressing need taunted her, a languid heat that spread over her body. She raised herself and drew her nightgown off, then tossed it onto the floor. His fingers skimmed up her thigh, light as air against her bare skin. He slid his hand between her legs and knew where to touch her at her most sensitive spot. Lightly, he caressed the tender nub; slick and wet, she was ready for him. Unconsciously, she held her breath for she knew not what was to come. She let her breath out in a slow sigh as he raised himself atop her. Whispering of his love, he made rhythmic movements, his engorged shaft lightly sliding over her. Ah, his lovemaking was more than she'd ever imagined, a sweet torment of wanting him. She made little whimpering sounds as her fingers dug into his back, and she tossed and turned, his movements unbearably tantalizing, her body begging for fulfillment. A slow heat blossomed inside her, a craving for satisfaction.