by Kit Tunstall
“Emily,” she said impatiently.
He nodded. “Emily.” He sounded uncertain, but stopped protesting.
* * * * *
They returned to the apartment later than she had anticipated. The shops had been busy, and she had searched through several before she found casual clothes at what she considered an affordable price. Tremont had just put the key in the door when the knob twisted, and the door wrenched open.
She swallowed down a surge of fright when she saw Nicholas framed in the doorway. He wore a white business shirt, slate slacks, and a charcoal vest, having discarded the jacket and tie. He looked elegant, until she met his eyes. Then she realized he was a seething mass of fury, barely restrained. Another emotion was less identifiable in his gaze.
“Go,” he hissed to Tremont through clenched teeth.
Tremont’s shoulders hunched, but he lifted his hand. “Master—”
Emily lightly touched his shoulder as she shifted the bags in her hand. “Go on.”
He shot her a look before scurrying down the hallway.
They stared at each for several seconds without speaking. She was attempting to assess his expression, while he seemed to be trying to rein in his temper.
The sound of Tremont’s door closing broke the silence.
She took a deep breath and entered the apartment. She had to pass near Nicholas, and with the bags in her hands, it was difficult to navigate the narrow space. Her body brushed against his, and he made no move to step aside for her. She forced a shaky smile and slipped past him, while her heartbeat accelerated, and her body started tingling. When she was in the living room and several feet separated them, she dropped the bags, taking a deep breath in preparation for facing him, while mentally schooling her expression to hide her physical response to him.
“Where were you?” He sounded uninterested, but the coiled way he held himself revealed his true feelings.
Emily looked at the bags strewn on the floor before looking up at him. “I went shopping.”
He lifted a brow. “You have clothes.”
She shrugged. “I don’t like dresses.”
“Hmm.” He took a step toward her, but didn’t seem too menacing. “You should have said so sooner. I would have been happy to order things for you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t really know what I like until I see it. More to the point, I was going stir-crazy here in the apartment.” She forced a careless grin. “Tremont was kind enough to offer to drive me, and he knew where you stashed the credit cards. Oh, that reminds me,” she dug into her pocket and pulled out his Platinum card, “I should return this.”
“Keep it,” he said.
Nicholas covered the remaining distance between them, but she didn’t cower. He was clearly angry, but the other emotion in his eyes tempered her instinctive urge to escape. She still hadn’t identified it, but thought it might be well-concealed fear. No doubt, he had assumed she had somehow convinced Tremont to help her flee.
“I would prefer you don’t leave the apartment without me.”
She frowned. “Do you plan to keep me your prisoner forever?”
He sighed, running a hand through his tied-back hair, causing strands to work loose from the elastic band. “I’m not overly concerned with you running away. You have nowhere to go.”
“I could—”
He waved a hand impatiently. “Word reached me today that Koss has arrived in New York. He can only be here for one reason, and that’s to torment me.”
She lifted a brow. “Why? What is it between you two?”
His eyes avoided hers, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Never mind. I just want you to be cautious. One of the easiest ways for him to hurt me is to hurt you.” A shadow crossed over his eyes. “He’s ruthless. I don’t want you unprotected in the city, vulnerable to him.”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t even know me. How would he—”
“Koss is gifted, love. He’ll find you easily enough, if he’s determined.” Nicholas sighed.
“Gifted?” Like Erin, she almost asked, but called the words back in time.
“He’s almost five thousand years old. His powers are formidable.”
“Five thousand…” She trailed off, unable to comprehend his age. She sensed Nicholas’s discomfort with the topic and forced herself to change the subject—for the moment. “So, you were worried about me?”
He made a noncommittal sound as he crossed his arms. He didn’t seem overly fretful, though he still appeared angry.
She stared at him uncertainly. “Are you still angry about last night?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
“And about finding me gone today?”
He nodded.
She frowned. “Why aren’t you more…emotional? You usually don’t hesitate to show your anger.”
He sighed again. “I had little room to be angry when I came home and found you gone. Fear for your safety overwhelmed my other emotions. I didn’t like having you gone and worrying about you.” The confession sounded like it was painful for him.
A small smile formed on her lips. “I see.” Two steps separated them, and she took one toward him. “Can I ask you a question and have you answer honestly?”
He looked irritated. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“But you don’t always tell me everything,” she muttered under her breath. “Can you manipulate dreams?”
He blinked. “Yes, if I concentrated, and I knew the dreamer very well.”
“Have you ever manipulated any of my dreams?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
He shook his head, and his gaze didn’t waver from hers. “No. I have no reason to. If I wanted to control your thoughts, it would be much easier when you’re awake. Eye contact is the most effective way to manipulate someone’s mind.”
Her shoulders sagged, and she took another step forward, until their bodies were touching. Emily stroked his cheek, caressing away the line of worry she found. “It’s all true then.”
His brow furrowed as his frown deepened. “What is?”
She touched his lips with her fingers. “It doesn’t matter.” Erin had known he would find her again. She had given him permission to change her upon their reunion. She had spoken for her future self. Did that mean Emily had acquiesced to Nicholas? A small headache formed behind her eyes when she tried to figure it out. She decided—standing so close to Nicholas, hearing his slow heartbeat reverberating in her ears, feeling his lips under her fingers—it didn’t matter right then. In each of her past lives when they had met, she had recognized him. She did now too. He was the other half of her soul. She didn’t know if she loved him yet in this life, but could see a day when she would. The thought was intoxicating and scary.
“What’s gotten into you?” Her fingers muffled his voice.
She smiled, but didn’t answer. She wasn’t ready for him to know she knew about the promise Erin had extracted from him. Right now, she only wanted to feel his arms around her. She didn’t want to have to think about how accepting him would change everything she had been certain of before. She didn’t want to think at all. She just wanted to feel.
Emily leaned forward to kiss him.
Chapter Twelve
Nicholas stiffened as he pushed her away. “What are you doing?”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “I just wanted to touch you,” she whispered, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact in the face of his rejection.
“Why?” His eyes searched her face, and he was clearly puzzled. “Most of the time, you don’t want me near you. What’s different?”
She shrugged. “Never mind, okay?” Emily walked past him, averting her eyes. Didn’t he realize how difficult it had been for her to reach out to him? Why did he have to make it so hard for her?
He sighed and touched her arm. “Don’t go.”
She kept her head turned away. “I’m sorry about last night. I’ve already apologized. I
told you why I did it. If you can’t forgive me for something so harmless, there’s nothing else I can do.”
Nicholas stepped closer to her, nudging her chin around to meet his gaze. “It didn’t feel harmless. You hurt me.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Unconsciously, she touched her cheek. “You hurt me too.”
He nodded. “I know.” Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, mussing the tight ponytail. “I can’t seem to control my anger around you. I think it would be better to let you go.” His eyes were flat, and his voice was full of pain.
Her heart stuttered, and she shook her head. Something had changed after the dream, and she didn’t want him to send her away. She touched his arm, as tears broke free. “Please don’t.”
“You would be safer.” He shook his head. “With Koss here, you shouldn’t be near me. I’ll arrange—”
“No!” Emily threw herself against him. “I won’t leave. You can’t send me away. Not now, when…”
He frowned as his arms settled around her, seemingly automatically. “Why? I thought you’d be pleased when I decided to do this earlier. You can stay at Vallsade Manor for a time, until it’s safe for you to go home.”
She pressed her face against his chest, ignoring his stiff resistance. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“You’ll be safe from him…and me.” His voice was gruff. “You bring out the best and worst in me, Emily. I never should have changed you. You’re much too young, and things have changed since the last time we were together. It’s time to let this unnatural love die.”
“Erin,” she whispered. He stiffened even more, and she lifted her head. His features had formed into a scowl, but his eyes were moist. “She made you promise.” She knew she was exposing her weaknesses to him, but it didn’t matter. The only important thing was to dissuade his streak of nobility. She would never figure out what her destiny was with Nicholas if he sent her away. She touched his cheek. “I made you promise.”
A harsh sound ripped from Nicholas, and it sounded like a sob. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to step away from her.
She followed his movements. “She knew—”
“That was too long ago…”
She moved her hand from his cheek to his lips. “I don’t want to leave now that things are starting to make sense. You have no right to make these choices for me.”
He nodded, dislodging her finger, and his eyes opened. “Exactly. I had no right to do this. You should go while I have the strength to let you.” He bowed his head, and his voice was shaky when he said, “I don’t know how long I can do this. Leave. Now. Tremont will drive you anywhere—”
She cupped his face with her hands and urged him to lift his head. Their eyes met, and the air crackled with electricity. She stared into dark pools of pain and confusion, and all she wanted to do was ease his suffering. Emily tilted her chin and pressed her lips to his once more—softly, hesitantly, waiting for him to push her away.
He groaned as his fingers tangled in her hair, and his mouth pressed against hers. His tense muscles relaxed.
Emily let go of his face and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull his body closer to hers. She slipped her tongue through his lips, sensing she was in control, and he would wait for her to set the pace. She stroked his tongue lightly, unsure of herself, even though there was a sense of familiarity about each action, as if she had touched him this way many times before.
She flicked her tongue against the tip of his and almost giggled when his body jerked. Her surge of feminine power weakened when Nicholas’s hands framed her waist and pulled her more tightly against his lower body, bringing her in intimate contact with his hard cock. He wanted her. Her pussy quavered at the knowledge.
She might have been more afraid if she hadn’t witnessed his vulnerability. Emily ran her tongue across his fangs as she nudged him toward the couch. She thought briefly of Tremont seeing them, but didn’t care. When Nicholas reversed their stance and pressed her back against the sofa, she stared up at him and licked her lips.
He stood above her, bent forward at the waist so they were still touching. His dark eyes burned with liquid heat, and his cock pressed against her thigh. His hands moved to the buttons on her shirt.
She smiled at him as his fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons of the white shirt she had changed into at one of the stores. She grinned, imagining his frustration when he found the same buttons at the hip of the matching pants. She could see his frustration growing and put her hands over his to stop him. “I’ll do it.” Emily’s eyes widened at the husky note of passion in her voice. She couldn’t recall ever feeling like this.
She had burned for Nicholas before, but always with an urgency born from feeding. She didn’t feel the same pressing need for release this time. Her movements were unhurried, and she saw tenderness in his eyes as she unfastened the tiny buttons one at a time. They had connected on more than a physical level now, and the timing was right. She slipped off the shirt and dropped it over the couch to land on the cushions.
Nicholas brushed his fingers against the lacy cup of her white bra, and his breath hissed through his teeth. He seemed to be moving with deliberate slowness too, as he slipped the bra strap down her shoulder. His lips followed the path, and he pressed kisses against her flesh, without a hint of his teeth grazing her skin.
Emily put her arms around him, pulling him closer. His fangs scraped against her shoulder, and she winced at the dart of pain. He immediately pulled back to look into her eyes, and she summoned a smile, trying to hide her nervousness.
He tangled his hand in her hair. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
She ignored the quivering in her stomach and nodded twice, rapidly. “Yes.”
He stood up and lifted her into his arms. “There’s a more appropriate place.”
Emily put her arm around his shoulder, but didn’t hold tightly. He wouldn’t drop her. She cuddled closer to him, breathing in the scent of him. Underlying his expensive cologne and soap, she caught a faint whiff of blood. It reminded her she hadn’t fed, and her stomach growled. However, the hunger wasn’t urgent enough to supplant her desire for Nicholas.
He strode down the hallway and kicked open his bedroom door, placing her on her feet before closing the door behind them. Emily took the opportunity to examine his room and found it much the same as hers. His bed was larger, with four posts and a privacy screen. His furniture was more masculine and built larger, but it was as black as the carpet. Touches of red and silver contrasted with the black. The only deviation from the bland décor was the zebra-printed comforter on the bed, in alternating stripes of silver and black.
When he returned to her, he swept her into his arms. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” His voice had become a rough growl, but there was a hint of tenderness underneath.
“I think I do.” Her stomach lurched again when her gaze skittered to the bed and settled on the comforter. She had an image of the two of them writhing on the bed, and she shivered. The thought excited and alarmed her simultaneously.
As his lips brushed against hers, the phone rang. Emily started to pull away, but he tightened his hold.
“Ignore it.” He buried his face in her neck as the phone rang again. “It’s not important.”
She closed her eyes and tilted her head, waiting for his teeth to sink through the skin of her neck. Instead, he licked her. She frowned, and then remembered the blood in her veins was now tainted.
The phone rang again, and she stiffened. “Nicholas…”
He sighed impatiently and lifted his head. “Tremont will handle it.” As he spoke, the phone trilled again, but cut off in mid-ring. His lips slashed into a smile that revealed a hint of his teeth. “There. All’s quiet. We won’t be disturbed again.”
She nodded and laid her head on his chest, unable to prevent a whimper when his hands moved to the clasp of her bra. When he stopped moving, she lifted her head. “What?”
He sighed. “I don’t think we should do this.”
She swallowed down an instinctive dart of relief. Emily shook her head. “I want to. I want you. I’m just…” She hesitated and licked her lips. “I’m kind of nervous. I’ve never…” She looked down, trying to suppress the tinge of pink blossoming on her cheeks.
“I know. That’s why we should wait.” He stepped away from her. “You’re still confused. In a few days—”
“No. I don’t want to wait.” She took a step forward so they were touching again. “I’m ready now.”
“Emily—” A knock interrupted whatever he might have said. He strode to the door wearing a frown.
Emily darted behind the bed and drew the privacy curtain across her upper body to hide her bra. Tremont didn’t come in, but his voice carried to her. She didn’t catch the words, but caught his sense of urgency. When Nicholas closed the door, she sensed their interlude was over for now, but not for long. She was determined to make him understand she was ready, despite her fear. He hadn’t let her fears in other lives dissuade him.
She stepped away from the curtain and walked over to him. He was straightening his appearance in the mirror on the wall when she brushed a hand down his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“My warehouse is on fire.” He spoke in clipped tones. “I need to get down there. My insurance agent is meeting me there, and I know the police will want a statement.” His movements were stiff and jerky, and his eyes sparkled with rage.
“What caused the fire?” she asked softly.
He shrugged as he walked to the door. “The man Tremont spoke with didn’t say, but I don’t doubt it was Koss.”
She gasped. “Why would he? Please tell me what’s happening, Nicholas.”
He hesitated at the door, with his hand on the knob. Nicholas sighed. “I don’t have time right now, but I’ll tell you everything when I get back. I promise.”
She nodded, knowing she couldn’t delay him, no matter how badly she needed an explanation. “Be careful.”
He opened the door. “You’ll be safe until I return. I’ll shield the apartment, which should fool just about anyone.” He hesitated once more, as his eyes moved over her, drinking her in. “Stay in the apartment, okay?”
