Wicked Obsession (19 page)

Her mouth opened in shock. Before she had a chance to defend Marguerite as a friend and nothing more, Julian’s gaze fell on the suitcase. His mouth twisted, and in two long strides, he’d cross the room and shoved the heavy suitcase, clothes and all, off the bed as though it weighed nothing, then turned in a rapid blur of movement and pulled her roughly into his arms. “You are mine, do you understand?” He snarled, showing a flash of fangs. “You belong here with me.”

Chapter Sixteen

Julian’s mouth came down on hers in a demanding kiss that sent sparks skittering through her veins. Eleni drew in a sharp breath when he dragged her up against his body and held her close, his hands firm and caressing along her back. She sensed his anger and some other emotion coursing through him, something desperate that held him on edge. Bracing herself against him, she eased her arms up and around his neck.

He backed her up to the bed, and when the backs of her knees touched the edge of the mattress, he eased her down and climbed over her down with her, careful to keep his weight off of her.

He undressed her, skimming back fabric with the flick of a wrist, the smoothing glide of a palm. Following his lead, aware of his intention to make love to her, she helped him unbutton his trousers. When he wore nothing but his crisp white shirt, she parted her thighs, allowing Julian to settle himself there.

His silvery eyes locked onto hers with heated promise. Lowering his head, he gave precious attention to her erect nipples, kissing a hot trail from one taut bud to the other. Sighing softly, Eleni ran her hands through his long black hair, welcoming his body as he rose over her, levered his erection against her wet entrance. Tracing her hands along his shoulders, she smoothed her hand beneath the shirt he wore to hide his scars from her, felt the evidence of old pain, and kissed his collarbone in a silent question. Julian wouldn’t allow her to take his shirt off.

She knew the scars were there, a part of him. Despite their earlier argument, and the fact the evening had turned into an awful mess that neither of them had planned, he didn’t have to hide his flaws from her. She could never lay judgment against him, especially over something so superficial, something that happened completely out of his control.

Though the scars didn’t bother her in the slightest, she could imagine what they must represent to him as an immortal being. She wasn’t about to make light of self-consciousness. It would be an insult, and Julian didn’t deserve that.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” she whispered instead, kissing his throat, his chin. “We both have our scars, Julian. The only difference is mine aren’t visible.”

It was the truth.

Julian stilled and looked down at her, his eyes clouded with some dark emotion. Eleni thought for a moment that she had lost him, killed the moment. But a second later, the tension drained from his body. His pale eyes watched her face as he allowed her to remove his shirt.

They made love—each caress, each stroke slow and passionate, their bodies entwined, clinging to one another as if by doing so they clutched at life itself.

When at last they were both sated, she noticed Julian’s fangs hadn’t retracted. She wondered when he’d last fed. Of course, she had not asked him. Realizing that she had forgotten made her blush. Even if she had been so wrapped up in her problems with Gisele she could barely think straight, it was still her duty to see that he had the blood he needed to survive.

He hadn’t asked because it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to do so. She also realized he would not bite her without permission.

She marveled at this sudden revelation. Rubio had never asked her permission, he’d merely fed from her when it had suited him. And she had been happy to give…to the detriment of her own health.

Julian’s unspoken gesture of respect touched her to her soul. She stroked her hand across his jaw, loving him with her eyes while she drew aside the curtain of her hair. When he looked at her in question, she settled back in the pillows, offering her throat to him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice remarkably sensual and deep.

“My blood is yours alone.”

That contemplative look was on his face again. She wished she knew what it meant.

Tenderness lingered in his touch as he stroked his thumb over her lips before he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her throat. Eleni tensed, waiting, expecting the sharp pinch of fangs even as his lips caressed the curve of her shoulder, his tongue stroking over her wet skin.

Finally, his teeth pierced her skin, the fiery pain instantly dissolving into a delicious throb of pleasure.

Minutes later, Eleni turned onto her side to try to go to sleep. Now she was not so much upset, but hurt still lingered. Not that she expected Julian to understand. To her surprise, almost as soon as she thought it, Julian rolled over closer and pulled her into his arms. For a long time, they lay there idly without speaking while Julian caressed her hip.

Even after an hour of lying there, she struggled to sleep. Instead, she listened to the hiss of the fireplace and reminded herself why she shouldn’t fall in love with Julian. After Rubio, she could ill afford those emotions again, but a part of her warned that where Julian was concerned, it was already too late.

* * * * *

Julian lay on his back staring at the ceiling in the premiere suite, Eleni snuggled close to his side. For as long as he had lived in this house—well over three hundred years—he had never slept in this room.

But after making love to Eleni twice and feeling her body respond to him, he didn’t dare break the quiet, contented mood that followed. After the upheaval that had landed on his doorstep unexpectedly earlier in the night, he deserved this rare moment of peace. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about his argument with Eleni.

Now that the dust had settled, he analyzed the fear that had churned inside him, the hopelessness that had gripped his heart and clenched it in an iron fist, when he had realized Eleni planned to leave him.

Julian remembered the time he had been kicked in the chest by a horse at the age of twelve. He had been warned away from the stables and that beautiful, yet disagreeable stallion many times by his older brothers, but he wouldn’t listen. He craved nothing more than to touch, soothe, and attempt to tame. The horse would have none of it, naturally. He believed it had tolerated him the way one must sometimes weather an annoying fly. Then, one day he’d snuck into the stallion’s stall and the horse had had enough. He’d made a mistake in thinking the horse had grown accustomed to him, and the next thing he knew, the animal had kicked him so hard, if he had been human, it would have killed him.

He’d admitted to his father later that in the seconds before the kick, he had known it was coming. Even now, he vividly remembered that split second of anticipation, a horrible awareness that he stood in the path of danger and destruction, and there not being even a scattered few seconds of time to brace for impact.

He’d felt that feeling again when he’d looked in Eleni’s eyes and realized she was serious about leaving him. Inside, he had unraveled a little. He couldn’t imagine going back to a life empty of her. Even now, he didn’t know how it had come to this, but there it was. He was afraid of losing her.

So many things she’d said hurt him because they were regrettably true. For years, he had allowed Gisele to get by with more than he should have because he felt sorry for her. Marguerite had warned him about doing so for years, and lately, Claudette had come to him with complaints that Gisele was lazy and disagreeable. The accusations and warnings had always been easy to brush aside…at least until they put him at risk of losing his protégé.

He didn’t always understand his need to save Gisele, but that time was now over. He vowed he would not lose Eleni over Gisele’s foolishness.

Julian looked at the window. He could feel the dawn approaching. If he planned to sleep in this room, he would have to prepare it.

Eleni never stirred when he left her side. Quietly, he padded from window to window, closing the shutters to block out the sun. It was a quick chore, and within minutes, he was about to go back to bed, back to Eleni, when he thought about the bedroom door.

He hesitated, but after carefully considering it, he walked over to the door and locked it.

Julian returned to bed after that. He eased down next to Eleni, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She smelled like the rose bath soap she always used. It was a scent he could have breathed in forever. There were so many things about her that pleased him. Before tonight, he had thought himself incapable of feeling after the fire, incapable of caring, but she had proved him wrong. Just the thought of losing her was enough to fill him with unbearable anguish.

Chapter Seventeen

In the days that followed Gisele's removal from the house, Eleni began to unwind. It hadn’t been easy at first. Gisele made several attempts to contact Julian for various reasons, but he wouldn’t allow her back into the house, not even to get her clothes and personal items.

While he did everything he could to dissuade the woman, at the end, he called a meeting with both Henri and Claudette, and informed them both they were to call the police if Gisele showed up unannounced on the property.

On the Sunday following Gisele’s expulsion from the chateau, Marguerite arrived looking tired and weary. She had two of her protégés with her, nearly identical golden brunettes who she introduced to Eleni as Oksana and Caprice. Both women were tall and thin as wisps. They neither smiled nor spoke. They had come to help Marguerite, who had brought boxes to collect the rest of Gisele’s things.

“How is she doing?” Eleni had asked Marguerite in passing, in those few moments when someone wasn’t hovering nearby so she could broach the subject. A box in her arms, Marguerite had shaken her head, her dark eyes full of concern “She…does not cry as often as she did, but…” She took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “She is not very well, Eleni. Gisele has never viewed herself as anything less than an Acolyte. That was never true, and it’s hard for her to accept. She blames all of us, you know?”

Eleni understood. She knew what it was like to want something you couldn’t have, but with time, she would heal. For a while, Eleni had believed she would never bounce back from Rubio’s rejection of her. She’d believed that she would wither away in her grief. But now…look at how everything had changed in her life, evolved. She wouldn’t trade two seconds with Julian for a lifetime with Zander Rubio.

* * * * *

After Marguerite and her protégés had left, Eleni stood in Gisele’s room, empty now save for a bed, an armoire, and a dresser with a large mirror similar to the one in Eleni’s room upstairs. There was also a few throw pillows and magazines, and a framed poster of Van Gogh’s
Starry Night
—things that the vampiress had not deemed important enough to take.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she picked up a magazine and thumbed through it. Images of waif thin, haunted models populated the pages—nothing exceptional, or otherwise out of the ordinary.

 She flipped to the cover of the book, and read the splash of words across the glossy paper.
Seduce Him with A Glance,
and
Make Him Love the Real You
. A chill prickled over her skin. She reached out and spread the magazines across the bed like a fan and checked the covers for dates. Gisele had made sporadic purchases. There were sometimes gaps of many months between the issues. But most of the issues had articles about seduction. She sighed, wondering if she was misinterpreting things. Looking too deep for clues that weren’t there.

The magazines depressed her rather than made her angry. Gisele obviously had illusions about what it meant to be an Acolyte, some glamorous idea of exclusive privilege, yet unaware of the necessary sacrifices expected of the women who attained it.

Sadly, it was not a new concept among the serving class. Rubio had once had similar problems within his household. Eleni recognized the same stars in Gisele’s eyes that had been in Daphne’s. Rubio had not been nearly as understanding as Julian. Not only had he cut her from his staff without a second thought, he’d delivered her to the vampire council along with a petition to sever her family line from service.

“What are you thinking about to put such a frown on your face?” Julian asked her from the doorway. He came into the room, looked around, and sighed. “This is hardly a place to inspire happiness, no?”

She put the magazine down beside the others and slid them into a stack. “I know. I hate that it had to be this way, especially when there are so many things that Gisele and I have in common.”

“Is that so?” Julian sounded surprised.

Eleni shrugged. “We grew up not knowing our fathers, and lost our mothers at a young age, and…well, just a lot of similar things.” Frowning, she stood up from the bed and went to the Gisele’s armoire. It was empty. Flicking a glance at Julian, she said quietly, “Gisele was certainly enamored with you, and that’s something else we share.” She shook her head and turned to face him. “I think it would’ve been easier for her if she understood that not every Acolyte is made a vampire, not everyone enters the blood bond.”

“I’m sure she must know. I would imagine Marguerite explained it to her as a child.” Julian came over to her, put his arm around her waist, and led her from the room. He shut the door, then tucked her arm through his and led her along the hallway. “It doesn’t mean Gisele accepted what she was told. There are many Acolytes who refuse to accept that fact, Eleni. You can’t separate them from their disillusionment. It’s a truth that vampires count on to survive—everyone wants to enter the blood bond.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. “I wouldn’t say that’s necessarily true.”

Beside her, Julian flinched. He turned to her with bafflement glittering in his eyes. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t wish to enter the blood bond?”

“Immortality’s the prize carrot, isn’t it?” she asked without guile. She felt suddenly tired, as if she had run too far and too long in an endless race. She sighed and gentled her voice. “It’s true. Who doesn’t want immortality, Julian? I would be honored to spend eternity with you.” She stroked her hand over his arm. “Still, you’re missing my point. People like Gisele assume all protégés will eventually be turned.” She shook her head. “I feel sorry for her—I wish she could know the truth. My mother was favored. She was adored until the day she died, but no one spoke for her.” Eleni choked back the rise in her throat and said quietly, “She would have made a loving, devoted vampiress.”