Her Vampire Husband (7 page)

“No. The fence is warded against werewolves, faeries and vampires. If anything else gets beyond it, then it probably isn’t dangerous to me.”

“How can you ward against faeries? It almost felt like faery magic to me.”

“It’s difficult, but I used my—er, I employed a witch when I moved in. Don’t look so surprised. I’m sure your pack’s compound has equal safety measures.”

“I never asked. But I suppose.” She shoved her plate aside for the waiter to retrieve. “So, what questions next? Favorite movies? Favorite songs?”

“I want to kiss you, Blu.”

Reaching for the wine bottle, she poured a full goblet of Cabernet, and tossed back half of it. The woman could certainly consume the alcohol. A means to hiding from the truth perhaps?

“Rather, I want you to want to kiss me,” he challenged.

Sipping the wine, she looked aside and down.

“Will you ever desire me?”

She smirked. “You think I don’t?”

“I think you deny the feeling the moment it comes up. If it does come up at all.”

“It does,” she answered quietly. “You actually desire a wolf?”

He shrugged. “Wonders never cease, eh?”

“Yeah.” Lashes dusting her cheek, she still couldn’t look directly at him. “You going to finish your brandy?”

“Go ahead.”

Their proximity was about two feet. They sat in a
curved booth, so he could easily slide next to her. But Creed wasn’t sure how to bridge the distance and to take what he wanted. She was so different from any woman he’d known. Not delicate, and yet so fragile he could cut her with but a word. Not demure, and yet right now he’d silenced her with a confession of his desire. And not at all his type.

What
was
his type?

Beyond A, B and O negative?

He had always favored a confident woman, one who could stride through a room turning all heads and smiling triumphantly as she did so. Blu was that sure woman. To a degree. She liked to turn heads, but she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the attention once she got it.

He also liked learned women, those he could have meaningful conversations with over a bottle of wine. Blu insisted on calling him dude, and playing the tunes loud enough to wake the neighbors. She was unpolished, ill-mannered and utterly unconcerned about it.

Yet he couldn’t stop watching her. Every sensual movement. Every purse of her lips as she sipped the Armagnac. The glide of white hair dusting her long slender neck.

And there, the pulse of her life beat beneath the silken sun-bronzed skin. Dark treasure coursed just below the flesh. Pulsing not too fast, but more rapidly now than it
had been before he’d suggested they kiss. The scent of her overwhelmed the Armagnac’s oaky perfume. And like a fluff of pink marabou, it teased at him.

So that was it. He desired her blood. Nothing more. She was simply sustenance. Not so different than any other female.

And yet, had the silver dart cut deeper, he felt sure he would have mourned her loss.

“What’s going on in the Catholic’s brain?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re thinking too hard, Creed. I can see your brain groan. Plotting to overthrow the Huguenots?”

If she only knew. But she must never know. Just because he called her wife did not imply he trusted her.

The waiter delivered her dessert and Blu dug into it.

“Try this,” she said after a few bites, offering him her fork. Chocolate sauce glinted on the silver fork tines. A drop splattered the white linen tablecloth. “Hurry.”

“I don’t eat.”

“It’s not eating. It’s barely a lick. The chocolate is out of this world. It’s spicy and hot. Have you ever tasted chocolate?”

“A nibble once or twice. Chocolate was the rage in the eighteenth century.”

“Your favorite century, obviously.”

“Yes, you’ve picked up on that?” He smiled. It had certainly
been a time of decadence and debauchery he would never forget. “The women would drink it so bitter.”

“This is silky and sweet.”

Mmm, like her blood?

“Go on, I dare you.”

There were far better dares to receive from a ruby-lipped stunner such as Blu. Her eyes sparkled in anticipation and her lips parted to reveal gorgeous white teeth.

Creed never refused a dare.

Sliding closer, he parted his lips. She touched the fork to his tongue. The chocolate, sweet and smooth, dispersed across his palate. The small taste heated his tongue. It possessed a bite, a surprising piquant sharpness.

In truth, he’d only ever enjoyed the sweet treat from the mouths of his lovers.

“Neat, isn’t it? It warms your whole mouth.”

“Interesting. Must have some spice in it.”

“Chile peppers.” She drew her fingertip through the sauce on the plate and offered it to him. “Just a little more.”

How could he resist those expectant gray eyes and anticipatory pout?

Creed tongued the tip of her finger, and he closed his lips over it, sucking, teasing the whorls of flesh with his tongue. Gods, but he’d love to suck at her breasts, lick down her stomach to the apex of her thighs. To feel her soft and smooth on his tongue. Finer than any chocolate, surely.

Her lids grew heavy—then she flashed her gaze wide. Tugging her finger from his mouth, she ended what could have become delicious folly. Poking it into her mouth, she cleaned the fiery sauce—but of course, there was no sauce on her finger. Interesting.

“Mmm.” Those brilliant eyes dazzled. “Do you wonder what it would be like to kiss me now with our tongues on fire?”

“Blu.”

“Go on, Creed. You were the one to bring it up. So do it. Kiss me.”

So she would turn the challenge back on him? “You’re teasing me.”

“If I were, I’d be sitting farther away.”

She had somehow slid closer. With little space between them, the tips of her hair skittered across Creed’s shoulder. Her knee nudged his. Perhaps the heat he felt was also from the hug of her shoulder against his.

Creed leaned in, eyeing her sparkling grays carefully. The tease in that twinkle could prove dangerous for both of them.

He touched his mouth to hers. She did not flinch. She took his kiss. And so he pressed firmly, indulging the sweet fire lingering on the center of her lips.

First kisses were always awkward. This one flamed
with welcoming adventure. It wasn’t really their first. Yet it was the first they’d both agreed to.

She was the one to dash her tongue across his, blending her fiery chocolate heat with his own. He had never tasted a finer kiss. A kiss so wickedly hot, and capable of melding two mouths that would normally never touch.

“I like that,” she said against his mouth. Her lashes fluttered. “The chocolate, I mean.”

“Right, the chocolate.” He kissed her again, more chaste, a finale to something that could become much more were the gauzy tent not so sheer.

“Thank you,” he said. “For teaching me to experience new tastes.”

“No problem, dude. Er, I mean Creed.”

“I like the way your mouth moves when you say my name. Makes me wish you had more chocolate sauce to share.”

They glanced to the plate. Not a drop remained.

“You’re richer than God, aren’t you?”

Now where had that question come from? “I like to think God has no need for money. But I do have a substantial amount.”

“Then you should be able to hire the chef to come make this dessert for us some time.”

“An excellent suggestion. You ready for a walk in the park?”

C
RICKETS CHIRPED IN
the tall grasses behind the line of poplars demarcating the edges of the park. A cicada intermittently joined the chorus with its long rattling buzz. Tall hedgerows muted the rush of a nearby freeway. The scent of gasoline took a backseat to the lush perfume of myriad flowers.

The taste of chiles and chocolate tingled on Blu’s tongue as they strolled the well-lit sidewalk in the small horticultural park.

The taste of Creed also persisted.

It was a good taste. A powerful one. Manly, yet not too controlling. It hadn’t been brisk and rough, as she was accustomed to. He hadn’t kissed her until she had first invited him to. That went a long way toward his chivalry quotient.

It was easy to think of him as some ancient knight who
made vows and fought for rights and wrongs now that she was getting to know him better. The muscles straining at his sleeves and across his chest could swing a sword to chop off heads. But the guy would probably bless the fallen afterward, that was how honorable she suspected he was.

Not that a blessing from a vampire would be all too welcome. Gothic good fun, as far as she was concerned. She could so get into the fantasy.

Blu tugged her arm from Creed’s and swung both of them.
Okay, enough of that
, she remanded her inner thoughts.

All this closeness stuff was getting to be too much. A few kisses had seemed appropriate. They
were
married. But she wasn’t about to fall for seduction and all that chivalry stuff. Fantasies were just that, not meant to become reality.

Most men took what they wanted. What made her believe this man would be any different?

The peonies lining the walk perfumed the air. Huge bushes hung heavily with thick fuchsia blooms as big as cats’ heads. One of Blu’s favorite flowers. The peony won over the rose every time with its lush bloom and frothy petals. She didn’t even mind the ants nestled within the petals.

Dragging her fingertips over the bloom heads, she fell out of step with Creed. From the back he marked an
imposing figure. Tall, lean, yet broad-shouldered. Broad shoulders were the best. They gave a girl something to cling to when…

Well, whenever.

She wasn’t going to start fantasizing about having sex with the man. It would never happen. Vampire or not. She had her principles, and if a girl didn’t stick to them, then she had nothing. Three-day sex rule be damned.

Thinking of clinging to him brought up Bree’s comment. She would not cleave, unless it was to wrench herself
away
from the man.

Creed paused, wondering at her with a glance over his shoulder.

Snapping off a bloom, she waved her hefty prize at him. “I love these.”

“I bet the park patrol will have something to say about that.”

“You know, Creed,” she said as she plucked the petals one by one and dropped them to the sidewalk, “for a vampire you’re much too inhibited. I mean, you are a tribe leader. You’re like a big kahuna. Don’t you ever do the daring?”

“The daring? Of course I do. But I am not the official tribe leader at the moment. Alexandre Renard, my best man you met at the wedding, is acting in my place while we get this marriage thing going.”

This marriage thing. Yeah, that was how she felt about it, too. Just another…thing.

“Perhaps I’ve done enough of it already,” he added. “I am, as you so callously put it, an old man.”

“You’re only as old as you think you are.”

“That would be nine hundred seventy years.” He sighed.

“And still looking like a thirty-year-old.” She hooked an arm in his and relished the warmth spreading over her bare arm. Funny, she’d expected vampires to be cold. “Are you dead?”

“You ask the most out-of-the-blue questions.”

“That’s because they are out of the Blu.” She chuckled. “Oh, sometimes I
kill
myself.” A toss of half the petals landed a fuchsia explosion on the sidewalk behind them. “But what are you? Dead or alive?”

“Do I look dead?”

“No, but I’ve always heard. Not from anyone in the pack, but I’ve read books.”

“Ah, the remarkable accuracy of the fiction novel. I’m surprised how those from our nations still form opinions from the mortal fictions and entertainment shows. I never died to become vampire. I simply transformed after being bitten. I’m immortal now.”

“Only a stake will do, eh?”

“And perhaps that precious little ring of blood on your finger.”

“Yes.” She stroked the ring. It was heavy and didn’t go with any of her outfits, but she would never remove it. The blood glinted under the park lights as she tilted her hand. It gave her peace of mind. “Will it really work? The Protection was dropped years ago.”

“That is blood taken from a witch before the spell was dropped. It will eat through a vampire’s flesh and bone within seconds, and reduce them to ash in minutes—unless they’ve an immunity.”

“What a gross thing to witness. So it’ll kill you dead?”

“Well…”

“Well what?” Her heart suddenly pounded. That
well
had not been a good well. “You’re immune? Wait, you have magic because you’re an elder. What’s the deal with that? You had to have gotten it from a witch, right?”

“You know about the elders?”

“I’m not stupid, Creed. Bree told me. She said there are ancient vampires who used to steal magic from witches before the Protection spell was even created.”

“Your faery is very knowledgeable. I do have magic.”

“So does this ring mean anything at all? It won’t kill you, will it?”

“I’m not sure what it will do to me, Blu. It may drain what little magic I have remaining. It may enhance it. For all I know it could be tainted with a poison that would
take me out, no matter my immunity created centuries ago. Nothing good, that’s for certain.”

“But it’s not a sure death like the silver in your ring promises me.” She squeezed a fist. “I knew you longtooth bastards weren’t on the up-and-up.”

“Blu. The Council requested an elder step forward to take the vows, and I did so. I am considered an equal sacrifice to the wolves handing over one of their females. But I cannot know if that blood will have a deadly effect on me. And I prefer not attempting to find out.”

She sighed heavily and plucked out a few more petals. “Is there some way to test it on another vampire? I mean, suddenly I feel at a disadvantage.”

“You should not. Besides, I took a voluntary vow not to use my magic centuries ago. It was a means to atone for the harm I’ve done to the witches.”

“Honorable. But let me guess, those witches you did harm are dead, so no one is really going to feel the effects of your atonement.”

“Blu—Ah, I shouldn’t have said anything and you would have been assured the device granted some kind of safety. But do either of us really want to use the thing against the other?”

“No. Well…maybe. I’m not into violence. But if you are—”

“Never would I use violence against women. If I can prevent it,” he said with a noticeable wince.

What was that about? she wondered. Blu moved a palm up her arm, feeling a shiver. If he had stolen magic from witches…and he’d said he’d harmed them.

“Your ring is a symbol, as is mine,” Creed offered. “I would never think to use this against you.”

“Promise?”

“I do, I promise.”

Blu sighed and tapped the decimated flower head against her chin. “Fine. For now. So show me some of that magic.”

“I just told you I’ve sworn not to use it.”

“I won’t tell any witches.” She eyed him sweetly, thinking to soften him with kindness. “You must slip up and use it once in a while.”

He sighed. “There have been occasions. And I’d appreciate it if you’d also keep that information from any werewolves. With that secret in hand a werewolf could go to a witch, and I would be in big trouble.”

“How big?”

“I would be bound by a spell, shackled from using my magic. It’s not a pleasant experience. And I shouldn’t wish to sacrifice my freedoms because I’ve used it for insignificant means over the years.”

He eyed her fiercely. Blu knew what he was doing, trying
to intimidate her. So he’d given her a secret? Stupid vampire.

“Show me your magic, and you can consider the secret kept,” she challenged.

“I’d rather not in such a public place. There are couples all about tonight. And as I’ve said, my magic wanes.”

“Creed, the reserved one.”

“Are you any less reserved? You can dress up and put on a show behind the walls of my home. Yet you are no more than a sheltered princess who’s not been out in the big bad world all that much.”

“You think? I know things, vampire.” Who was he to decide what she was like? “I used to go to the clubs with my lover. He’s a fighter. Loves to start a ruckus.”

“A ruckus starter. Such a fine quality to possess. I bet he’s into stirring up brouhahas, as well.”

The vampire put himself so much higher than a wolf? Superior asshole. Who was possibly immune to her little ring.
Damn.
This was something her father needed to know about. As well, should she tell him the secret Creed had just trusted her to keep?

She’d consider her options later. “You should see my lover. He’s amazing when he’s wolfed out.”

“You love him.”

“I told you I didn’t.”

“You did, but sometimes we speak differently than we
think. I can hear reverence for him in your tone. I only wish to earn such admiration from you.”

Blu toed the flower petals, then twisted the ball of her shoe into them, releasing a pungent fragrance between them.

“You don’t want me to feel the way I do about Ryan toward you. It’s just sex, Creed.”

“I’d take just sex from you any day.”

“Seriously? You really have taken a one-eighty. I assumed your sacrifice was taking a wolf into your home. I can’t imagine you allowing one into your bed.”

She strode ahead a few paces. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she tapped the decimated peony in the air. “Sex and decadence? You did say you were going to give me decadence tonight.”

“Good food and fine brandy. Chocolate that makes your kisses fiery. Those are decadent. And sex?” He gained her side and murmured at her ear. “I’m all for that, Blu.”

She pressed the decimated flower head to his chest, holding him off from getting too close.

He plucked the stem from her. “But you continue to tease. If we’re going to fool the Council we’ve to make a go at it sooner rather than later.”

“A go at it? Is that how you term sex? How utterly unromantic.”

Not that she expected romance from a vampire. Or
from any man. Blu had never been romanced. She wouldn’t know romance if it bit her on the neck.

Please, no bites.

“The Council merely wants to see I’ve been bitten,” she said. “They couldn’t care less about the sex.”

“My bite is accompanied with a certain degree of intimacy. The Council will ask us both if we’ve been intimate.”

“They will? That’s so…personal.”

“Intimacy bonds the couple.”

“So does superglue.”

He crushed the flower head in a fist. “We’re under the looking glass, Blu.”

“Yes, the crews camped outside your home. And you want to perform for them? Bend me over the bed and let them watch so they’ll be appeased?”

“That’s crude, even for you.”

“But it’s the truth.”

To her left in the parking lot, a streetlight beamed across the BMW’s hood. Dusting her nose with the single flower petal she held, she drew in the aroma. Something sweet to disguise the sour odor of this conversation.

She didn’t want anyone to tell her what to do. Not now that she’d gained freedom from the compound.

“We can make any truth we wish.” Creed clasped a wide, strong hand about her fingers, crushing the petal
so it bled pink in the whorls of their flesh. “You have to be strong enough to make the leap.”

“Listen to you, all self-sacrificing and motivational-speaker guy.”

“Blu, I like you.”

“Yeah? That’s probably a good thing to say to your wife.”

“Yes, but can you return the same compliment to me?”

She glanced aside, wishing she’d fled to the car when she’d had the thought. This conversation tugged at things inside her she didn’t want to unravel. It was easy playing the game. Making nice on the outside. Sharing a flirtatious kiss here and there.

But in reality, things had changed. Drastically. And she wasn’t sure how to deal with it all. Especially when the vampire she’d been determined to hate was looking at her with such hope.

Who could hate a man who liked to watch her stuff her face with cereal? A man who hadn’t attacked her when he’d seen the black lace and marabou number? A man who endured her nasty comments about his species?

He wasn’t like any man she’d ever known.

And that put her off her game.

High in the sky the waxing moon warned in less than a week it would be full. Then her husband would know exactly what he’d gotten into by vowing to love and honor her. Could he be the chivalrous knight then?

Would it be better to surrender to his expectations before then? Soften him with agreeableness and hope for the best when she revealed her true colors?

She did have his secret to use as a bargaining chip. And she’d keep that chip handy.

He opened his hand and the crushed fuchsia petals sifted down the front of her dress. Catching one, he traced it over her mouth. The silken glide tickled her lips. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the sensation. And when she opened her eyes, it was not the petal, but Creed’s mouth that brushed her lips.

Blu spread her hands over his chest, thinking to push him away but unable to do anything but pull him closer. Unable and unwilling. How was that for split personalities? Blu Masterson was always willing, and ever able—for the wrong guy.

Clinging to his shirt, she held him in her world, on her mouth, invading her breath, her life. Her better senses.

The faintest trace of Armagnac sweetened his tongue. She wanted to taste the truth of him, to gauge the darkness and decide if she were willing to step a little closer to the edge—into Creed’s shadow.

She’d stepped so far away from reality in the past few days, Blu felt she was entirely surrounded by shadows. Some were merely remnants of her expectations; others stoked with mystery lured her.