She stood up and lurched away, cheeks flushed. “You have an impossible brother, Mr. Monteleone.”
“Not impossible. A very healthy alpha male vamp—” Concern flashed all over Marcus’ face as he corrected himself. “A very healthy alpha male vagabond from Tuscany—a land legendary for men who mess with women before they have a right to.”
She wondered if he was going to say vampire. No doubt, Paolo had told him of her studies.
“I do study vampires, Mr. Monteleone. In fact, I gave my favorite lecture today.”
“Yes, Paolo has told me.”
Cara had removed all the dishes. “To be continued,” she said as she exited to the kitchen.
Anne had dished up a piece of berry pie and a scoop of ice cream for each of them. She handed two to Cara. “Give the big one to Lucius. The other one is for Paolo. I’ll bring the rest.”
Lucius inhaled the berry pie and didn’t say a word. He politely asked to be excused, and Paolo gave him permission, instructing him to go upstairs to study.
First, the boy came around the table and shook Cara’s hand again.
“Nice to meet you. I’d like to show you my room some time, if you come back again. I have a big collection of vampire books as well.”
“You do?” Cara was momentarily distracted from the tension she’d caused. “I used to read about them too, when I was your age, until I discovered romance novels. Somehow romance and vampires didn’t mix very well for a young girl.” She smiled, expecting a smile on the faces of her hosts, but not one of them did so.
Lucius withdrew his hand and turned, giving his father a hug, burying his face in his father’s neck.
Paolo said something to Lucius in a foreign tongue and the young boy nodded, leaving the room without looking back.
The pie was delicious, but neither of the brothers touched theirs. She saw Marcus lift his fork and then stop before cutting himself a bite, as if he was trying to decide whether he wanted it. Anne nibbled on the tip of her slice, and after having only a few bites, lay her fork down beside the unfinished piece, and sighed.
Cara decided to bring up the verbal slip from Marcus’ earlier in the conversation. “So, I got the impression you were going to say male alpha vampire, were you not?”
“You reading my mind now?” Marcus asked with a mock frown. Ann sat up, wary.
“I’m afraid I may have told him too much of our encounter at the ball, Bella. Forgive me.” It looked like an honest apology.
“But I want to know why he said it. Was it because of the costume? You guys play vampire around here or something?”
No one said a word, which Cara thought was extremely strange. She felt like she’d just said the seven forbidden words on a live radio program.
Paolo took her left hand in his and squeezed it on top of the table. “Bella, dear. Our family comes from Italy, where they have a healthy respect for the legends of the past. You probably know about the little superstitions in the Black Sea countries about vampires. We trace some of our roots to that ancient land.”
“So, you grew up hearing the old stories.”
“Exactly,” Marcus said.
She looked at Anne.
“Don’t look at me. My upbringing was totally Northern California. No vamps in my past, except for some of the guys I used to date. And my ex-hus—my almost husband.” Anne said, holding her palms out to the group. Marcus looked pained.
“So, sometime could I interview the both of you, ask you some questions, for my research? I’ve recently discovered some really interesting things.”
“Certainly. We can arrange that,” Marcus said as he eyed his brother carefully and winked at his wife. “Start with Paolo, though. He knows everything I know.”
“Fair enough.” Cara squeezed Paolo’s hand. Her gaze traveled to his lips. “Let me ask you both one thing first. Have you ever heard of a historian named Alasdair Fraser?”
Marcus dropped his wine glass onto his pie plate.
Chapter 18
Cara felt like she’d committed a sin in front of the pope. In the dangerous silence that ticked past like the mechanisms of several ornately carved clocks in the living room, she looked up at Paolo, asking him in her mind what was wrong.
“Nothing, mi amore,” came the non-verbal reply.
“These dark stories, Paolo? Did I do wrong to bring them up?”
Paolo picked up her hand, turned it palm side up and kissed her there with more tenderness than she’d ever felt. He seemed to devour her in his lingering kiss, inhaling every bit, as if his life depended on it.
“Our family has secrets, Cara,” Marcus began. “These things must remain secrets until such time as, as—” he looked over at Paolo before completing his sentence. Anne had a frown line between her lovely brows. Marcus continued, “When Paolo selects a life mate, there are things that must be discussed.”
“Don’t you think someone would want to know about the family secrets beforehand? How would they know they wanted to join the family?” Cara’s back was erect as she reacted to the fact that she wasn’t going to be told any of those secrets. And yet she desperately wanted to know.
She searched Paolo’s eyes, which had grown dark and dangerous.
“You fucked me, Paolo. You kissed parts of my body no man has ever touched—”
Paolo nodded. His huge body rose. He threw the damask napkin down on top of the pie and stomped off into the hallway.
“What did you say to him?” Marcus asked as he stood to go after his brother.
Cara was alarmed that Marcus knew they had telepathic communication. “How did you know that?”
“Because I told him,” Paolo said. He had silently arrived and was leaning into the doorframe at the other end of the dining hall. She’d not heard him take a single step. “Sit, Marcus. Since I made a muck of this, I’ll straighten it out. If I can. I’m going to need help explaining a few things to Bella.”
Anne began to rise, but Cara stopped her. “No. Stay, Anne. Please.” Anne assumed her position at the other head of the table and leaned over, placing her elbows on the tablecloth and weaving her fingers together.
Cara tried to pick up a faint conversation in a foreign tongue between the two brothers. Paolo nodded and began to speak.
“I’ve told you we are an old family. Unfortunately, not all of our family history is pleasant. We have some family members who have done things—” he glanced up to Marcus, who added,
“Been outlaws. There are some family members who engaged in activities that got them and the family into trouble.”
“Okay. Every family has these people.”
“It is perhaps difficult to understand here in the States, where families can be traced back maybe a hundred years, and of course, some longer. But in Europe, family dynasties can last for centuries. Wars fought. Kingdoms claimed.” Marcus began to pace back and forth.
The way he gestured, the way he turned and took those long strides, reminded Cara of Paolo. She remembered his naked frame coming towards her as she lay on the bed full of ripe anticipation. She blushed and looked at her lap, ashamed that her lover might be able to discern her transference onto his brother.
“No shame, mi amore. You are mine, and it is me you are thinking about.”
Cara began to well up inside. At last, the floodgates opened and she burst into tears. In a flash, Paolo was next to her, on his knees, his long arm wrapped around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, but this is beginning to get to me. I’ve just—” The sexual glow had worn off, and she was staring down into the dark cavern of what she’d just done. She’d met a strange man who made her feel excited sexually as never before in her life, a man she had made love to half a dozen times. And she knew nothing about him. He could be a serial axe murderer, for all she knew.
And now, sitting here, with his family around her, she felt literally sucked in to their stories, like she was beginning to lose control over her own life’s course. There was something dangerous
and predatory about them all, even Paolo.
As if he felt her change of heart, he rose, and stood a healthy few feet from her. Her mind cleared. She was grateful for the space.
What is this power?
She could feel that he stood inside her mind, ready with an answer. But she didn’t have the nerve to ask the question. She felt his unease. Out of the corner of her eye saw him grip his hands and squeeze his fists down by his sides.
“I think it would be best if you took her home, Paolo,” Marcus said with finality.
“Of course,” Paolo’s reply was barely audible. He didn’t tell her anything telepathically, but she could feel something hurting him.
It’s your secret, Paolo. Cara sent him the message but was dying to ask him more. Then she realized with certainty that his secret was going to be something she didn’t want to know.
And that was what was causing him the pain.
Chapter 19
Cara was grateful Paolo allowed her to be driven home alone. She knew he’d be monitoring her thoughts, and that drove her deeper into despair. On the one hand, this man had awakened something inside her soul that gave her more happiness and pure pleasure than she’d ever experienced.
And on the other hand, she wasn’t ready to give up her own free will. She’d never before felt tempted to sink into some dark abyss, do risky things with someone she barely knew, someone who demanded everything from her.
She decided it wasn’t good for her, no matter how wonderful she felt when he kissed her, when he whispered incantations that heightened her sexual arousal, even when he just stood next to her. It wouldn’t be long before she’d need him too much. She just couldn’t allow that to happen.
The leather seats of his brother’s limo felt like the cool flesh of a giant serpent against her warm skin. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She recalled him standing by the front door to the villa, his white shirt billowing out from his trim black, old-fashioned pants with the silver clasps. He was such an odd combination of sensual softness and almost a predator’s thirst. As the prey, she longed to be captured again and again. She knew she would be safe. Somehow she knew this.
But that didn’t make it wise.
Mi amore. She heard him say this as the driver drove down the crushed granite driveway, away to the safety of her own apartment. Paolo hadn’t been afraid to let her feel his pain at their separation. She refused to reassure him. She needed space and time.
When they arrived in Santa Rosa, Cara thanked the driver, who waited until she was inside her gated entrance before driving off. She wondered what Marcus’ servant thought about taking his master’s brother and his new lover to a bed and breakfast for the obvious purpose of having an afternoon of sex. Was this a common occurrence? Did their wealth allow them almost unlimited freedom to explore their sexual appetites with abandon, without drawing attention to the activity? Anne had said that the brothers were discreet. Just what did that mean?
She thought about Marcus’ wife, the beautiful Anne, and the little one. She was a California girl, not from an ancient lineage like the rest of the Monteleones she’d married into. Cara thought perhaps someday she could have a frank discussion with Anne, if—
If what? If I let him touch me again?
Cara wondered how she would ever be able to feel another man’s touch on her flesh and not remember Paolo. Somehow, he’d claimed her.
“You are mine,” he’d told her. The thrill of those words sent a shiver down her spine again as she dropped her purse and keys on the kitchen counter . She thought about them as she pulled off her clothes and left them in a heap in the bathroom. She started the shower but was hit with the warm cloud of Paolo’s scent that ricocheted off her own moist skin. She closed her eyes and felt her sex clench. The obvious truth was, she ached for him.
Cara decided against the shower at the last minute. Picking up her clothing, she walked back to her bedroom, hung up her things and slipped naked into the huge bed she’d tossed and turned in last night. The cool sheets warmed quickly. His scent was all over her. As she began to drift off to sleep, she wondered if he could hear her dreams, too.
Paolo held the little glass of port up, looking through it to the flames of the fire as he sat in a winged back chair next to his brother. He was working to push his emotions back. He’d felt her distance growing, like blood draining from his veins, as he’d watched the limo escort his love home to where she thought she was safe. She would be safe from his thoughts, at least, since she was mortal. If she were vampire, she’d be able to feel him across the ocean.
He forced himself to find solace in the ruby color of the port, which was stunning. The sharp sweetness bit down on his palate and filled his nostrils with a heady bouquet. He was grateful for the distraction.
“This is outstanding port, Marcus.”
“Yes. Can you imagine how it will be ten or twenty years from now? This is barely two years bottled.”
“You must save some for Ian’s wedding day.”
“That I must. Won’t that be a day?” Marcus was admiring the color in his glass just the same way his brother did. Without looking at him, he added, “The girl is lovely, Paolo.”
“Carabella. Her name is Carabella.”
“Yes. You speak of her in a haunted, almost fated manner. Is there some evidence you could be fated?”
“I feel something like it, yes.” Paolo didn’t want to think about the brief few days of savage sex he spent with his son’s mother, the way he couldn’t stay away from her. Maya hadn’t loved Paolo any more than he loved her. But their species instincts pulled them together in a tangle of arms and legs, resulting in her bearing him a son.
With Cara, it was an animal attraction, but not without reason. If they were truly fated, he never would have been able to send her home in the limo by herself. He’d have fucked her several times, with or without the audience of the driver in the front seat.
He had been a good husband to his three mortal wives, who, one by one, died in his arms. He hated himself for the fating that had taken over his body, forcing him to break his marriage vows.
Being married to mortal women was pleasant, but they were childless years as he watched them age, watched as each of them grew to realize he wasn’t aging like they were. He never minded the wrinkles and sags of older flesh. He loved and was devoted to his wives. His love wasn’t about the flesh, it was about the heart.
Cara, even if he could convince her to be with him, would someday want a family and children of her own. A marriage or long-term relationship with her would therefore be out of the question. He might even be prohibited by the Vampire Council from contacting her further, based on tonight’s events . Perhaps the God of vampires had been kind to him by removing the distraction of her scent, her body, before he became too involved. The lady was going to talk herself out of anything that could have happened, and if he resisted the urge to glamour her, she could successfully escape his influence.
Pain was a constant companion to Paolo, who had learned to hold it inside, tuck it away in a satin drawer inside his heart and move on. Three hundred years of practice made him good at it. He knew some day he’d become brittle, perhaps sarcastic, as he watched others of his clan raise their children, love their wives forever and live an eternity wrapped in love and family. This would not be his fate.
As bad as this was, it would have been worse had the half witch-half Golden vampire Maya survived the war she’d started. Paolo would have forever been tethered to a loveless bed of obligation, doing so only to protect his son.
What kind of a father would he be to Lucius, who would have to make the choice some day to either remain mortal or become a Golden vampire? Paolo felt he was a bad role model for the young boy. It might have been better had Marcus married Maya, as she demanded, and raised the boy as his own. Marcus was a better man, Paolo thought. He doubted he could have done it himself.
And then beautiful Anne, so sweet and lovely, Anne, with the force of all the
goddesses his ancestors had worshiped centuries ago, herself a new vampire, brought to life by Marcus’ blood, sacrificed herself by committing an act punishable by death.
Paolo felt weak when compared to his other family members. His turmoil about becoming vampire at first, added to his pain that the decision could not be undone. He longed for the simple human emotions of loving with a full heart, free of glamour and manipulation, in a measured lifespan of some eighty to one hundred years and no more. It wasn’t the living forever that bothered him. It was the feeling that he wanted to love and be loved as a mortal.
He finished his port and pretended to be settled inside. He would be grateful to be alone tonight. Cara would have certainly sensed his scathing pain. Marcus would have to guess.
“Your plans for her?” Marcus asked.
“Why, brother? You doubting my prowess?”
“You know what I mean. Don’t joke about that. There is an attraction there. No denying that. You continue seeing her and she will find out things on her own that I’d rather she learned from us.”
“Us? Or you? Can’t you trust I will do the right thing?”
“That’s just it, Paolo, I don’t know what that is anymore. Do you?”
The two brothers fixed gazes on each other without moving a muscle. They used to do this when they were boys in a stare-down contest to see who could show emotion first. It was the same now.
Paolo flinched and looked at the fire.
“I am lost, brother. I want what I cannot have. What I could have I didn’t want.”
“And your son will pay the price,” Marcus whispered. Paolo could tell he was a bit angry.
“Without my son, I wouldn’t be here.” Paolo looked back at Marcus. “I’d be gone.”
“Don’t say such things. You are a member of this family. Just because you will never have a fated female doesn’t mean your life is over, without meaning. You have a legacy to pass on to Lucius. You know this should be your prime directive.”
Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) Page 10
