This was excruciating. It was exactly what he’d heard it was like when the bond was broken, when a mate died.
“I swear to you, I haven’t touched another woman.” His breaths came is sharp gasps.
“I’ve seen you.” She sobbed.
Oz fell onto the floor, no longer able to hold himself up against the pain. “Flirted. Nothing more. I swear.” His back bowed from the tension in his muscles.
She grabbed his shoulders. “Oz! Do I call Serge? How do I stop this?” Her voice was a high-pitched shriek.
“You. You hate me.” To be able to cripple him in this manner had to mean she hated him. What other explanation was there? “My mate hates me.”
“I don’t hate you. I…I…your…mate?” She crawled off the couch, coming to kneel beside him. “Mate? How?”
She reached out to press her hand flat above Oz’s heart, and he felt the wild beat slow as if her touch contained some magic salve. The muscles across his body relaxed enough to allow him to lay flat and turn to see her.
Crouched beside him she wore the most peculiar expression. Her brown eyebrows pulled together, forming the familiar crease above her nose. Tears glistened in her hazel eyes making them sparkle like crystals before streaming down her cheeks. Though she bit the right side of her bottom lip, the left corner hitched upward.
She inched closer, sliding her hand across his chest. “I…” Her gaze left his face, dropping from his body to her own lap where several more tears landed. Then she nodded.
“I do love you. I’ve loved you since that night, and I’ve hated myself for it,” she said, drawing in a ragged breath. “Why did you hide from me and lie?” Using the corner of the blanket she dabbed at her cheeks.
“I never lied. I never told you anything that was not true. I may not have told you everything, may not have given you all the answers to every question, but I never lied.” The throbbing pain had ceased, and Selene’s tender touch soothed his cramped muscles.
“You never mentioned this ‘mate’ issue. That’s quite an omission.”
“You do not understand the confusion a vampire experiences when it happens. It’s not like falling in love. It’s more powerful, more controlling. It leaves you no choice.”
She sighed. “I can see how that would displease you.”
“No. I was never displeased with the idea of you as a mate. Well, I was not happy about finding you when you were so young, but I was not at all disappointed in you.” He’d have reached to touch her but did not want to upset her.
Strangely, a fear that she would pull away, leaving him cold and empty, missing her touch filled him. Quickly he realized it wasn’t simply a fear she would not touch him, but that she would not truly love him, that she’d never accept him as her mate. As it was their courtship was starting out entirely wrong. If she chose not to at least attempt to mate him, Oz’s entire existence would become a living hell.
“Why did you hide? Why were you in the church all those nights?” Her tone was matter-of-fact, direct with no hint of the diplomacy she so often tried, but failed to exhibit.
After a short pause Oz explained. “I want always to be near you, but at the base you are never relaxed when I’m around. When you don’t know I’m there, you drop your guard and laugh. You enjoy yourself.”
Deciding to take the risk, he reached up and stroked his fingers over her hand. “I hid in the church, knowing you felt safe there. I wanted only to protect you and to see you happy, to see you relaxed. You can’t imagine how I’ve wanted to talk to you, how I’ve wanted to be the one you told your secrets to, the one you trusted.”
She stared at him, silent for a few minutes. The time passed like hours. Oz prayed she wouldn’t leave and make his life miserable for eternity.
“Oswald, I’ve kissed three men. That’s it. Kissed. That’s it.”
These were three men who, with a little help from Oz. had very quickly forgotten their interest in Selene, a point he thought it best not to mention. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what to say because he wanted to tell her that was three too many, though he wasn’t sure that was the response she wanted to hear.
“You have been with a lot more than three women. Certainly, you’ve done a lot more than kiss.” Her cheeks took on a pinkish tint, and although she tried to meet his gaze Oz knew she was focusing on his lips instead of his eyes. “We are most certainly not well matched in this situation.”
“You believe I want an experienced woman?” His hand stroked her forearm.
She nodded. “This is far too embarrassing. Let’s go to bed.” Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “I meant sleep. We should sleep and end this conversation and forget about this altogether. Foolishness.”
Gathering the blanket around her, she moved to stand. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Before she could go too far and bring this conversation to an abrupt halt, Oz sat up and pulled her down onto the floor to lie beside him. “No way. We’re finally talking about something far too serious. We don’t need to do anything more than talk, but we are going to talk.”
Grabbing pillows off the couch, he tucked one beneath her head and leaned on the other. Then he nuzzled her in close to his body. They may only talk, but he was not missing out on an opportunity to hold his mate.
HER VAMPIRE PROTECTOR
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Selene’s heart skipped, stopped, lurched, and fluttered. It was near impossible for her to hear anything but the loud buzzing of the blood in her ears. She’d dreamed of this. Well, not exactly like this, but of Ozzy professing his love for her. In her dreams there was kissing and touching and several other fun things that she somehow was quite adept at doing.
But now, here in this moment she could not even focus on the fact that Oswald loved her. It wasn’t that she did not want to think about it and celebrate and call Aunt Margery with wonderful news. She did want all of that. And the wedding. She wanted the wedding.
There was no way to explain it. She didn’t understand what was happening. It was as if all her prayers had been answered, all the foolish wishes and dreams and hopes were coming true. She felt it. This was right. Ozzy was right. She knew he was hers as much as she knew she’d give her own life for him.
As if some hidden approval had been given, an unspoken blessing had been given, and now, here she lay beside the man she loved. Something had somehow changed. Something wonderful happened.
“You okay, Kitty-Kitty? Comfortable?” Oz tucked the blanket beneath her bottom, and Selene felt the heat of his hand linger for seconds after he removed it.
Her chest tightened at hearing the silly name only he ever used, and Selene knew there was no point in pretending she hated it.
Knowing he truly loved her and that they belonged to each other may have made one obsessive worry go away, but it only threw open the door for another.
He brushed her hair back from her face and smiled. It wasn’t the smile she’d seen him flash so many times before at women. No, there was a warmth in this smile, warmth that she felt deep in her soul. Now that she thought about it, she realized he only ever showed this softer side around her. It was the same look she saw in his eyes in the SUV earlier. A look of concern, caring, love.
“We’re only going to talk tonight. You don’t need to be afraid.” He shook his head. “I’ll never hurt you. I couldn’t hurt you. No vampire can hurt his mate. It’s impossible due to our connection.”
“That’s really nice of you, Ozzy.” She tried to smile and nod, though she’d only caught part of what he said. With him lying so damn close and looking like the perfect male specimen she couldn’t focus on words. Her mind kept going back to her newest worry.
How exactly was she going to please him? How in the hell was she going to keep up with him in bed? She didn’t know the first thing about sex.
Well, she understood the mechanics of it. She’d gone to school, attended health class, googled things on the internet. But she’d never done it. She’d never ev
en seen a man naked in the flesh, never mind touched one.
Why was I raised by old celibates who never dated? They sheltered me and now look! I am lying on the floor with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, and I’m terrified of looking like an idiot!
She forced a smile in an effort to appear she followed the conversation.
What do I call it? Do I call it a penis? Do I ask him what to call it? Do I wait for him to tell me what to call it? When do I touch it? Do you touch it when you kiss? Do I wait for him to touch me first? Oh God. This is a nightmare.
“Wait. I didn’t say that right. What I meant was I love you. I want you to be happy and to trust me. Even if it was possible for me to hurt my mate, I could never do it. I would never do it. The love I feel for you has been growing for six years. I could never hurt you because I love you.” He glanced at her chest and nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s what I should have said.”
His gaze came back to hers, and she forced the smile again. “I know I’m a vampire. We both know this. But I’ll never bite you or feed from you.” He shook his head. “Never without your permission. Not that I’m going to ask you all the time. I mean I’ll ask, but not every night, just sometimes. Wait, this is coming out all wrong. What is wrong with me?”
He bolted to a seated position, hands gripping his head. “It’s as if I’m a teenager again, a gawky, moronic teenager. What the hell is happening? This is not how this night is supposed to go.”
Seeing Ozzy babbling and flustered helped. Odd as it was, Oz’s confusion in this moment made it seem like everything was exactly as it should be. She sat up, sliding her hand up his bare back to his shoulder.
His hands dropped to his lap. “I have never had this much trouble talking with anyone.”
Selene kissed the back of his shoulder first, then dotted kisses around to the front and glanced up at him, her lips resting against his skin. He smelled of leather and earth.
“You bewitch me, love.” He smiled. “And I like it.”
Turning, he wrapped his arms around Selene and brought them both back to the floor. His mouth came to hers, soft lips pressing tenderly. His strong body molded to hers, and Selene felt every part of him.
Instinct took over. Words were no longer needed. No explanations, confessions, or admissions were spoken aloud.
Together, languorously and in complete synchronicity, they expressed every feeling they had for each other. Their slow lovemaking began on the floor of his living room, but their bond was not consummated there.
Oz carried Selene to the bed they would share from that night forward. As he slowly moved inside her, watching her face as though he was searching for signs to tell him to stop, Selene tried to keep from flinching.
“We can stop.” He ceased moving.
“It’s okay.” She’d wanted this. Getting the first time over with would help.
“Just tell me, and I’ll stop,” he said.
She whispered, “Do it. Make it permanent.” She turned her head to the side, exposing her neck. She might as well get both things done.
“You’re sure? We don’t have to do that tonight too,” he said, then clamped his mouth shut.
“You can’t hide them.” Selene watched his fangs extend to push against his lips. “Do it. I want to.”
Once again she turned her head to expose her neck, and this time she noticed mistletoe on the nightstand. It was the same sprig she hung in the cafeteria with the pretty bow still attached. The sight of the silly plant in Oswald’s room was surprisingly sweet.
“You think it will hurt, but it won’t.” He kissed her neck. “It will bind us together and make everything feel better.”
Before Selene could question or disagree she felt the pinch of Oz’s fangs, then the pull of his mouth as he worked her flesh. Her mind spun into a hazy euphoria, her hips working in rhythm with his.
Oswald was right. Everything felt perfect.
ABOUT JORDAN K. ROSE
Jordan loves vampires. She also loves to laugh. And if you know anything about Jordan, you know her vampires will make you laugh.
A few years back Jordan received a copy of Twilight from her husband as part of her anniversary gift. By the end of that week she’d read the entire series and moved onto Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles. Eight weeks and eighteen vampire books later the idea for her first book came to her followed very quickly by Eva Prim.
The Eva Prim Series follows the night-to-night escapades of The Demon Mistress, a vampire with the inexplicable ability to call demons. With both full-length novels and short stories the series has a bit of something for everyone. Book three, The Road To Hell, releases in October 2017.
Her Vampire Protector is novella seven in The Central City Romance Series, where members of The Vampire Guard one-by-one find love in the ruins of the city.
Jordan’s other books include Black Magic Rose, book one of The Alliance Series, where the world is set in a hospital run by vampires and werewolves; and the Short Seductions Series, a collection of ten spicy paranormal romance short stories.
When she’s not writing about one vampire or another Jordan enjoys spending time with her husband, Ken and their lovable Labradors, Dino and Enzo on the beautiful beaches of New England.
To keep up on new releases, contests, and free reads sign up for Jordan’s Mailing List.
Find Jordan at:
Website | Mailing List | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads |
DANCING UNDER THE MISTLETOE
LANA WILLIAMS
DANCING UNDER THE MISTLETOE
CHAPTER ONE
London, England, December 1870
Katherine Flemming breathed a sigh of relief as the train pulled away from the station, its whistle blowing a forlorn farewell to the bustling city.
Farewell to Miss Flitchard, another identity she had now set aside.
Farewell to her life, once again.
She closed her eyes, wondering how many more times she’d need to run...to start over. How many more times she’d have the strength of will to do so. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she opened her eyes to study the other travelers in the crowded compartment, if only to reassure herself she wasn’t being followed.
At least not yet. For now she was safe.
He would find her eventually. He always did.
“Are ye visitin’ family for the holiday?” the cheerful woman sitting beside her asked. A smile lit her face, her warm brown gaze shifting between the two young children between her and Katherine.
“A friend.” Although Katherine still had a difficult time believing she should call Grace Hawke a friend, as she was the Countess of Adair. Perhaps it had been a mistake to accept the invitation to spend the holidays at the Adairs’ country estate in Northamptonshire, but she didn’t know where else to go. Her options were narrowing each time she had to start over.
“Oh, that’s lovely. Nothin’ like spendin’ time with friends or family over Christmas.”
The woman chattered on, sharing her holiday plans. Katherine only caught part of what she said, as her thoughts lingered on her abrupt departure from the dressmaker’s shop where she’d worked for the past six months. No doubt Mrs. Danby, the owner, was cursing her name--or at least the name she’d assumed this time--for leaving without notice.
Yet Katherine had no choice. Not when one of the girls who worked in the shop next door told her a man was asking questions about her.
When her fellow traveler’s attention shifted to her children, Katherine retrieved the embossed invitation from her satchel to read it once again. She’d been stunned when it had been delivered to her one-room flat by a liveried footman, complete with a train ticket.
After much pondering, Katherine surmised that Grace had sent the invitation with the hope that Katherine might assist her with the new wardrobe she’d purchased from Mrs. Danby. After all, it wouldn’t do for a recently married countess to dress in half-mourning when her new husband was alive and well. Katherine quelled th
e pang of envy at the memory of the joy on Grace’s face as she planned her hastily arranged wedding. Apparently it had been important for the earl to marry prior to his birthday, and Grace had been more than happy to oblige.
Katherine knew she didn’t belong at the house party any more than she belonged serving as a seamstress’s assistant. Somewhere in the past five years of slipping from one identity to another, she’d lost herself.
There was no chance of finding her true self at a Christmas celebration given by an earl and countess, but it would provide her with a fortnight to create a new identity. The invitation had arrived at the perfect time. Katherine had exchanged the first-class train ticket for one in second class and pocketed the money with only a sliver of guilt. Grace wouldn’t begrudge her if she knew. But Katherine didn’t intend to tell her. It would be one more secret added to her growing pile.
No one truly knew her or her past. Except him.
She was normally careful to avoid connections with others, but somehow Grace had slipped through her defenses. Perhaps that was because of the lady’s uncertainty when they’d first met at the dressmaker’s, as though no longer sure of her own tastes and opinions. Katherine hadn’t been able to resist encouraging her. Watching Grace bloom over the past months had been a true pleasure--one of the few in Katherine’s life. The love Grace had found with her earl made Katherine sigh with both envy and delight. She had yet to meet the man who’d swept Grace off her feet, but by the end of this day, she supposed that would change.
Her stomach lurched at the thought. Meeting new people brought a certain risk. There was always a chance they might recognize her or know her past. If so, her holiday would end before it began.
The sprawl of London and its soot-filled fog gave way to rolling hills and stubbled fields as the train continued its journey north. They stopped frequently as the day passed. Somehow the lack of buildings and people made Katherine uneasy. She was a city girl and had never ventured far from London. Northamptonshire might as well have been in another country as far as she was concerned.
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