“What a coincidence.” Dejection shadowed his face. “But why didn’t Drake—I mean Dimitri—tell me he knew you?”
“It was very long ago.” She paused. “I don’t know why Dimitri changed his name, but promise me you won’t reveal it to anyone.”
“I promise,” he said as concern surfaced in his voice. “But I want to know how you feel about him now.”
“I’m not sure,” she said.
Teddy forced a smile. “I suppose I’ll settle for your confusion.”
She turned to leave.
“I hope my curiosity hasn’t strained our relationship,” he called out.
Alba looked at him over her shoulder. “Not at all.”
“Get some sleep, my fair princess.”
With a heavy heart, she climbed the staircase to the third floor. She knew she shouldn’t string Teddy along, but he always provided her with a much-needed sense of comfort. If she married him, they could share a life full of common interests and easy companionship. He would never intrude on her independence—nor would he ever consider her his weaker half. Although she might not have passionate feelings for him at the moment, they could possibly form a deep love someday.
Still, as wonderful as those things sounded, something was stopping her.
Alba entered the bedroom and hung her wrap inside the armoire. Grateful that all of the girls were performing tonight, she put a match to an oil lamp and stepped behind a dressing screen to remove her other garments. The sound of someone breathing filled the silence. Pulse stuttering, she peeked around the screen. The silhouette of a man materialized on her windowsill and she screamed.
Chapter Seven
“You should lock your window, Alba.” Dimitri’s sultry whisper drifted through the darkness. “There’s a demonic killer on the loose.”
“How dare you barge in here!” Clutching her dress to her chest, she brought the flickering oil lamp closer to him.
As he sat on the window ledge, his back resting against the frame, Dimitri watched her from under a veil of black lashes. His white teeth flashed in the light and his piercing eyes made her knees wobble.
Alba sucked in a breath.
“Correction,” Dimitri said with a wry smile. “I haven’t actually ‘barged in.’ I’m still waiting for an invitation.”
“You seem to enjoy surprising me,” she said crisply. “And you know I loathe surprises.”
“Some things never change.” His topaz eyes burned a deep desire for her even now. “How about that invitation?”
She hesitated.
“Well?”
Struggling to hold her garment across her chest and balance the heavy lamp in her other hand, Alba looked out the window. She saw no trace of a ladder. “How did you get up here?”
“I climbed the trellis.”
“But the trellis doesn’t seem strong enough to hold you.”
“That’s my Alba. A brilliant barrister someday you’ll make.”
“I’m no longer ‘your’ Alba.” Her tone was bitter.
He sighed as he drew one leg up and rested his arm on it. The position, which showcased the snug fit of his trousers and his ample bulge, gave Alba an enticing view.
“If we must talk from here, I want you to know that I didn’t believe the rumors swirling around Bucharest. Not for a moment,” he said.
Her gaze softened. “Which rumors?”
“The ones about you being dead.” He drew in a breath through his straight nose. “I knew you were a survivor—and that you had probably orchestrated a plan to disappear.”
“I did have a plan. To get as far away from my stepmother as possible,” she said. “But none of that matters now.”
“The past does matter. It makes us who we are,” Dimitri insisted in a subdued tone.
She looked away from him. Her body stiffened—yet curiosity made her lock eyes with him again. “How did you survive? The tear in your shoulder . . . you lost so much blood.”
“Dr. Rhessa happened upon me on the road. He sewed up my shoulder and bandaged it. I told him to send word to you at Stelian Hall—to let you know that I was about to leave Romania in order to get the education he convinced me I should get.”
“If Dr. Rhessa sent correspondence, my stepmother must have intercepted it.” Alba’s voice quaked.
“Regardless,” he said with a smile, “we’ve been reunited. Though I admit our reunion didn’t go according to plan with you fainting on the spot.”
She studied his face. He hadn’t shaved and she found the look incredibly appealing. But wasn’t she supposed to be angry with him? “All these years, I pined for you, Dimitri. I went to your camp to inquire about you, but a Gypsy woman told me you never returned. That’s why I assumed you were dead.”
“I’m sorry, Alba. I left the countryside without saying good-bye to anyone.”
“Why?”
“Because you were all that mattered to me. Your family did not approve of me, so I slipped away—determined to make myself worthy of you.”
“When you came to London, how did you know that I wasn’t betrothed or married?” Alba asked.
“It’s hard to explain, but I have—visions,” he replied.
“Visions?”
“More like feelings.”
“Did you see Teddy in this vision?” She cast him a rueful smile.
“Yes, but I sensed you don’t return his affections.”
“Well, now that you’re here, I want to return the Egyptian amulet to you.” She snapped out of the sentimental moment. “I cannot believe you had the nerve to give it to me when it was cursed in the first place.”
Remorse surfaced in his eyes. She ignored it. Setting the lamp on a side table, she retreated to her nightstand to get the amulet. “Here.” She held the necklace toward him with an outstretched hand. “I want you to take it away.”
Dimitri cast his eyes from the light. The action told her that he refused to take it. “Alba, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if a woman dons the amulet even once, she will be affected by its curse. Or so the story goes.”
“I already know that.” Sarcasm ran rampant in her voice.
“Then there is no reason for me to take it.”
Her anger grew. I just want everything to go away. She twined the amulet’s chain around her hand with a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were when we were introduced at your birthday party?”
“I should have,” he replied. “Both of us have resorted to fabricated names, but I should have told you who I was straightaway.”
She stood rigidly in the middle of the room. “I changed my name so that my stepmother couldn’t find me. Why did you change yours?”
“For a simpler reason.” Dimitri shifted his position. “The people of Great Britain are friendly, but they are even friendlier to somebody who has an English name. Besides, ‘Griffin’ is much easier to spell than ‘Grigorescu.’ ”
Refusing to join in on the joke, Alba gave a little snort. The dress slipped from her grasp and gave Dimitri a glimpse at her cleavage above her corset. He raised a winged eyebrow as she tried to compose herself.
“I’m getting tired of sitting on this narrow ledge,” he said. “Won’t you invite me in for a drink?”
She hesitated.
“Come along, Alba. It’s the least you could do for an old friend.”
“Very well. You may come in.” She disappeared behind the screen in order to put her dress back on. Meanwhile, Dimitri made his way to the tiny kitchen at the back of the apartment.
“Do you have any wine?” she heard him ask.
“In the cabinet above the stove.”
A minute later, he joined her holding a bottle of Cabernet and two glasses. She watched him pour the wine with steady hands—strong hands that seemed capable of anything. After he passed her one of the glasses, he raised his own in a salute. “To us. Friends reunited after an eternity apart.”
Alba forced a dry lump down her throat. She met Dimitri’s s
tare with wide eyes. “We were more than friends . . . although our love was innocent enough.”
“We were very young,” he admitted.
“I try not to dwell on the past.”
His warm smile melted her icy demeanor. “Come now. Don’t you wonder what would have happened if we ran away together that night?”
Instead of answering him, she took another sip of wine. The fiery golden hue of Dimitri’s irises dazzled her. Her heart fluttered.
“I don’t dwell on what-ifs either.”
“You’ve gotten crusty on me, my dear Alba.” He smiled dashingly.
“Bad memories will do that to a person,” she countered. A tingle of guilt seized her and she paused. “Our separation is something I never forgave my stepmother for. My father was away on business, so I went to Ileana for help the night you got hurt in the graveyard. She had just terminated Dr. Rhessa’s post and she refused to summon another doctor for you.” Alba looked away. “As you can see by my modest existence, I cut myself off from her when my father died.”
Dimitri’s gaze was sincere. “That’s very commendable. But then I always knew you were extraordinary.”
Her cheeks flushed at the compliment. She moved into the kitchen, to the tiny stove, and leaned against it. “And you have always been persistent. Now that you are a successful doctor, have you had no interest in finding a Mrs. Grigorescu?”
His tawny eyes turned darker and she fought the urge to swoon.
“No,” he said. “I’ve never loved another woman.”
“Please don’t say things like that.”
Dimitri set his glass on the kitchen table. He came nearer and took her by the shoulders. Her skin felt as though it would burst open under his touch. She nearly caved forward against his chest as his breath feathered over her face, but she forced herself to stiffen.
“What things shouldn’t I say?” he asked.
“That you’ve never had feelings for anyone but me. Too much time has passed—”
“I only want to be your friend, Alba,” he said.
Friends? That’s all he wants to be? Embarrassment and disappointment coursed through her with fervency—disappointment being the more powerful of the two emotions. Dimitri had always had the ability to convince her that she was the only woman in the world by just one stare. As Alba watched his black hair glisten in the light and his jaw harden, she wanted him to gather her into a crushing kiss, yet she told herself to remain on the defensive.
“It may sound crazy, but when I found out you were in London, I accepted the position at St. Bart’s to be near you,” Dimitri said.
Alba’s heart missed a beat. So this had been planned. His admission warned her to brace herself for something dangerous—something that might have to do with the amulet.
“I want to know more about the necklace you gave me in Romania, Dimitri.”
He pivoted away. “Must we talk of it?”
She placed a trembling hand on his arm. “Please.”
“I want to talk about something else.” He paused. “Where were you tonight?”
“I was at the Rollingsworth home. Harold Rollingsworth offered me time in court.”
“Congratulations,” Dimitri said, striding to the other side of the room.
She wanted to say so many things to him. She wanted to tell him that she’d cried herself to sleep for weeks after he disappeared from her life. She wanted to tell him that she had enjoyed kisses from several men, but no one had ever kissed her the way he had. And she was desperate for him to know that, at twenty-five years of age, she was still a respectable virgin.
She’d thrown herself into a career to forget the pain of being without him. Yet, assuming that the words wouldn’t come out right, she said none of it.
She moved to him. “You have some wine on the corner of your mouth.” Dimitri nodded and withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. Then he glided to a hanging mirror. Alba followed him but once they reached the mirror, he whirled around to face her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Do you mind if we continue our conversation in the park?”
She was surprised by his strange actions but conceded anyway. “I’ll get my coat.”
Chapter Eight
Dimitri felt like an imbecile. Alba had nearly seen his lack of reflection. How would he have explained that?
As they strolled beneath a canopy of low-lying trees, he managed to compose himself. The moon bathed the park in a romantic glow and he slid a glance her way. He could hardly believe the woman he would sacrifice his life for was walking beside him. Alba still possessed a charmingly round forehead and a delicate nose, but her facial shape was defined by a woman’s beauty now—a beauty that was immeasurable. Under the bright moonlight, her skin appeared as luminescent as a dew-drenched flower, and the gloss of her cherry-red lips lured him closer.
They meandered farther along the pathway, and it took all of Dimitri’s willpower to resist reaching for her hand and biting down on the curve of her neck. He clasped her elbow firmly as they strolled. And when he inched closer to her, the scent of her blood made his loins burn and his cock harden.
Thank God for my billowing cloak.
Under a blanket of twinkling stars and amid a cool, intoxicating breeze the park’s ambience was magical, but Dimitri reminded himself why he was here. He must gain Alba’s trust. Once he did, he would inform her of Simona’s visit—and the fact that her stepmother knew she was in London. But the timing must be right. At that point, he could persuade Alba to leave this place and hide away with him. But he didn’t dare tell her that he would have to leave her once she was safe from Ileana and from the vampire’s curse. After all, he couldn’t afford to make love to her, because it would destroy her.
“Those in the field of law may question my abilities as a woman,” Alba was saying. “But I’m up for the challenge.”
“You should be very proud of yourself.” Dimitri forced his attention back to their conversation. “I hope to see more women in the medical field as well. I believe they bring a new level of compassion to the science.”
She met his gaze. When he focused on her blue eyes, what he saw in them was hard to read. Did she feel anything for him at all?
The pounding of Alba’s pulse beneath her creamy neck was a maddening sound. Then again, Dimitri was an inexperienced vampire—and the slightest hint of hunger drove him to seek blood. At the moment, he had the impulse to tug Alba closer and penetrate her throbbing vein.
His fangs descended against his will—and as he ran the tip of his tongue beneath their sharp points, his mouth watered. It took every ounce of restraint he could muster to make them recede.
Christ, man! Remember why you are here.
Instead of seducing Alba, he must become her friend all over again. He cleared his throat. “How did Teddy react to his father’s announcement of your time in court?”
She lit up. “That’s the best part! Mr. Rollingsworth offered Teddy the same opportunity too. We intend to work side by side on the case.”
“Ah.” Dimitri smiled. “I must congratulate Teddy. He is a good man.” The longer Dimitri gazed upon Alba’s spectacular beauty, the more his body heated.
A brief silence passed. She blushed when she spotted a couple walking toward them hand in hand.
“I know you are not officially engaged to Teddy,” Dimitri said. “He told me as much. However, it’s Teddy’s wish that you two will head toward marriage.”
She frowned as they stopped walking. “How do you know that?”
“He mentioned it the day before my birthday party.”
She looked down at her hands.
“How do you feel about the possibility?” he asked.
“This must be my night for interrogation,” she replied as her forehead creased.
Dimitri squared his shoulders. “I apologize. It is none of my business.”
They sat on a stone bench and fell into silence. Alba watched the couple pass by. Dimitri followed her stare and decided it wa
s a perfect opportunity to reach for her hand. He slid closer—until their thighs touched—and gathered it, but she moved it away.
“I’m sorry, Dimitri.” She turned to look into his eyes. “Your appearance has taken me by surprise.”
“And you hate surprises.” He smiled wryly.
She nodded.
“And you’ve worked hard to come this far in your life.”
She nodded again.
“And I am interrupting the plans you’ve laid out.” He paused as she laughed. “You see?” he said. “Despite the years that separated us, I still know you.”
“I suppose you do.” She matched his rueful smile, but dropped the expression an instant later. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Dimitri.”
Another wave of hunger pinged inside him. He longed to bundle her in his arms, taste her lips, consume her delectable blood . . .
“I know you didn’t,” he said.
“But now that you’re here, look how far you have come in your life,” she said, changing the subject. “Surgeon at St. Bart’s. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
I did it all for you.
He leaned forward. Her water-lily scent filled his nostrils, and her breasts rose and fell alluringly with every breath she took. He was tempted to kiss her, yet she seemed uncomfortable with his close proximity. What’s more, he’d told her he merely wanted to be friends—
She shifted away from him. “Tell me about the hospital. It must be an awfully busy place.”
“It is. We have 676 beds that cater to 6,000 inpatient and 100,000 outpatient visitors. It’s a place that smells like death, hope, and strong carbolic soap.”
She chuckled at the description. “And I suppose you love it.”
“I do.”
“It seems you’ve found what it is you’re meant to do,” she remarked softly.
“I have.” If only I can continue to resist all the blood.
Cupping her delicate chin in his hand, he urged her face back in his direction. “Did you recognize me at all last night, Alba?”
Snow White and the Vampire (The Cursed Princes) Page 6
