Rare Vintage

by Bianca D’Arc

  He bedeviled himself watching her working alone in the large office while Atticus and Lissa were off playing lover’s games. Ian was a constant presence, annoying but faithful, doing the job Marc had tasked him with to protect Kelly. A silent shadow, Ian’s stealthy presence acted as a check on Marc’s nearly uncontrollable impulses. Everything in him wanted to go to her and take her in the flesh, but he was a civilized being—for the most part.

  He could at least be civilized about this. He was a guest in Atticus’s home. He would abide by Atticus’s rules. And he would go to any length to protect Kelly from the gruesome fate Lissa had foreseen, even if that meant cutting himself off from Kelly completely.

  He limited the time spent in Kelly’s presence. He noted the strange look in her eyes the few times they came face to face. It was both accusatory and hurt, a combination that cut him to his core. Each time he thought of it, he realized the wisest course of action was the one he was on—whether she understood his sudden withdrawal or not.

  After a time, she got used to the new détente. Life rumbled along as usual, with Kelly ably managing the vineyard offices for Atticus and even taking a few messages for Marc when people called the vineyard seeking him.

  And so it was no great surprise when she delivered a message to him just after he rose for the evening. Atticus had sought him out for a private moment in his study and Kelly tracked them there, tenacious in her duty to deliver the message.

  “A man named Leonard Gibson is trying to reach you. He asked his private secretary to set up a meeting at your earliest convenience.”

  Atticus looked over at Marc and raised one telling eyebrow. “Looks like he’s decided to face you head on.”

  “Damn!”

  Kelly was a little surprised by the vehemence of Marc’s tone. It was the first time she’d ever heard him use any sort of vulgar language and it made her realize that this Leonard Gibson had to be something of a thorn in his side. If his tone hadn’t conveyed it, the look on his face would have confirmed her guess. Something was definitely up.

  “What are you going to tell him?” Atticus asked.

  “I don’t suppose you’re willing to take my offer?” Marc challenged in return.

  Atticus held up both hands in denial. “I told you already, I don’t want to be Master. I’m enjoying my new wife too much to enter politics. Even for you, old friend. I’m sorry.”

  Kelly’s eyebrows rose in surprise at learning that Marc had been ready to hand over his position of power to Atticus. It had to have something to do with the phone message, but she was too polite to come right out and ask. Instead she listened, shamelessly eavesdropping on the men.

  She had missed Marc. Ever since he’d kissed her the night before she’d had that scandalous dream, he’d avoided her. She’d missed his handsome face and charming grin. She’d missed the way he teased her and most of all, she missed his kiss—that one fateful night had ruined her for any other man. The memory of those stolen moments haunted her dreams and her waking moments, but Marc had drawn away.

  In retrospect, it was probably for the best, but it still hurt. She was glad he’d taken the initiative and backed off. When sanity returned, she knew there was no future in a relationship with a vampire. In fact, she wasn’t altogether certain that he hadn’t just wanted her blood. She wasn’t sure if there really was a difference between sex and blood for a vampire. She wasn’t sure if she hadn’t been reading too much into his attention. Maybe all he’d wanted was a good time, and she’d fallen for him like the sap that she was.

  Better not to get any more involved than they already were. She could be professional, and he’d been a gentleman the few times she’d seen him since that interlude on the veranda. It was good they’d both had time to come to their senses. Still, she couldn’t help but admire the way he looked, the way he talked, the way he moved. He was a handsome devil, but he was no good for her and it was time she woke up and smelled the coffee.

  She refocused on the ongoing conversation, alarmed by the varying expressions of disgust, resignation and fury on their faces. Something was seriously wrong if even Atticus was upset. He was usually the most even-tempered of men since his marriage to Lissa, but he was visibly upset.

  Marc paced, turmoil following his every step to permeate the room.

  “Then it’ll be death,” he said, turning to face Atticus.

  Kelly gasped, and the two men seemed to finally realize she was in the room and had heard everything.

  “Whose death?” The words tumbled from her lips, all thoughts of restraint banished by the air of desperation in the room.

  “Nothing to be concerned with, ma belle,” Marc assured her, but she noticed he wasn’t giving any details. For all she knew, they could be talking about his death.

  Suddenly she knew she didn’t want to see him dead. No matter what had happened between them, she didn’t wish him ill. Quite the contrary, she thought with shock. She’d come to respect and like him. More than like, if she were being honest with herself. In a perverse way, she missed their little confrontations and found herself oddly disappointed—even lonely—that he wasn’t making a nuisance of himself anymore.

  “Like hell,” Kelly’s voice rose. “You can’t just say something like that in front of me, then pat my head like a toy poodle and tell me to be on my way.”

  “Ma petite, I can assure you, I do not think of you as a poodle. Where do you get such notions? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dismiss your question. I only wish to spare you worry. It’s not my death we were discussing, but Leonard Gibson’s. If he presses his challenge, we will battle to the death and he is far less experienced than I. His death will be quick and as painless as I can make it, but I’ll have to kill him if he challenges me.”

  “That’s totally barbaric.” Kelly was appalled.

  “It’s the way of our kind,” Marc spoke in soothing tones, moving closer to her. He stepped right up to her, his arms coming around her loosely, naturally. She didn’t even make a token objection to his nearness. Instead, she burrowed closer, tucking her head under his chin. She rested her cheek against his beating heart, like she was made to go there. She didn’t question why she felt this overwhelming need to be close to him, and apparently neither did he. The distance that had been between them was no more.

  Atticus seemed surprised for the short moment she met his gaze before she closed her eyes, but it didn’t really register. All that mattered was Marc. She inhaled his warm, exotic scent, ignoring everything but being in his arms again. Being home, at last.

  “I’ll be right outside.” Atticus cleared his throat and excused himself.

  She’d forgotten he was even in the room. A moment later, Atticus was gone, leaving the two of them alone, though she only noted his departure peripherally as Marc held her close.

  “I don’t like the idea of a fight to the death, Marc. You may be a royal pain in the ass, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Royal, I am not. But you’re not the first to call me a pain in the ass, so on that score you might be right. I can assure you, I’ve fought many challenges over the centuries, and I’ve held on to this position for some time. That I still hold it should be proof enough that I can prevail against almost any challenger.” He pulled back to tip her chin up with one hand. “Do not worry, ma petite. Though it touches my heart that you care for my welfare.” He chuckled as a gentle smile stretched his lips. “I thought you hated me.”

  She reached up to cup his cheek. “I don’t hate you, Marc, but you do frighten me.”

  “I could never hurt you, ma belle. It’s not in me to cause you any kind of harm. I would sooner greet the dawn than cause you pain.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why me?”

  Marc’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. All I know is that you fire my senses more than any woman has in more than five hundred years. When I smell the delicate scent of your skin, I want to lick you all over. When I see your beautiful face, I want to kiss you sense
less. And when I hear your laughter, I want to be the one bringing you joy.”

  “Then why have you been avoiding me?”

  “Precisely for those reasons, ma cherie. You are far too tempting, and I do not trust myself around you.”

  His voice trailed off as he tilted her head, angling his head down so she could see his kiss coming a mile away. He was giving her a chance to move away, a last chance for escape, but she didn’t take it. Instead she raised her beautiful, stubborn chin and met him halfway, participating fully in the kiss, not merely accepting it, but demanding it.

  Chapter Eight

  The thought of her open acceptance sent his senses reeling, almost as much as her delicate flavor. She was the finest wine, softly scented and full of delight as he stroked her lips open with his tongue. His sharp canines lengthened almost to their full extent before he could reign in his uncontrollable response to her. As it was, he nicked her soft lip, sending just a microscopic trace of her essence into their kiss, bringing his hard body to instant attention and to an even higher state of arousal.

  It wasn’t enough for him to really get a taste of her. More a tease to his enhanced senses. A tantalizing taste of what could be. He wanted more. His body ached for more.

  It seemed he had walked around half-aroused since the moment he’d caught sight of the lovely Kelly. That was unusual in itself. Centuries had passed since a woman could so completely captivate his senses and even longer since he couldn’t control his masculine responses to a lush female form. The dream had only made it worse. He knew her darkest desires now and had an idea of what she was like in passion. The memory of how she had responded tormented him every waking moment.

  He plunged his tongue inside, savoring the taste of her, and knew he must have more. Licking and tasting, he drew away from her delectable mouth, down over her chin to nuzzle his sharp teeth against her neck. He was almost there. He salivated at the thought of the rare vintage pulsing through her veins and how he suspected it would soothe the hungry ache deep in his soul.

  “I’ve got to have you,” he whispered, drawing back, preparing to strike.

  A hard shove against his chest caught him off balance.

  Unprepared as he was for her attack, she actually succeeded in moving him a few inches away from the tantalizing skin of her neck. He looked down into her blazing eyes, surprised by the light of battle in them when only a moment ago he could have sworn she was as deeply under his spell as he was under hers.

  “I am not on the menu, LaTour. If that’s all you want from me, you can find a blood donor somewhere else.” She pushed against his chest, and he was so surprised by her sudden reversal and the tears gathering in her beautiful eyes, he let her go.

  How could he explain that sustenance was the furthest thing from his mind when he thought of tasting her essence? He realized taking her blood into his body would be more than a simple act of feeding. This one woman had a power over him that no woman in over six centuries could claim. This one woman was not just another warm body flowing with life.

  This one woman represented something much greater.

  He didn’t dare hope that she could be the One for him, but she was definitely something special. It was time he made her aware of that little fact. It was time for some real honesty between them. Time for him to lay his cards on the table. Before she could flee the room completely, he was there, in front of her, blocking her way.

  “What I desire from you goes beyond sustenance, Kelly, so get that thought right out of your head. If all I wanted was a meal, any warm body would do. For that matter, I could have clouded your mind and you would have bared your neck to me eagerly.” He pulled her almost roughly into his arms. “But I don’t want that from you. I want you to come to me freely, of your own will.”

  “Is that some kind of vampire mojo? Do you need me to invite you in so you can have total control over me? Because if it’s something like that, you can think again, mister. I am my own woman. I won’t subjugate myself to you or any other man.”

  “Who said I want to subjugate you, ma petite?” His hold tightened as he stared into her eyes, using just a tiny hint of his influence to coerce her answer. He didn’t want to use his powers on her, but this was too important to let go. If she’d been hurt in the past, he needed to know about it. “Where did you get that idea?”

  It wasn’t easy, but she was just susceptible enough to his mental push to comply. Her eyes went hard and cold, and he nearly growled.

  “Who hurt you, bebe?” he whispered, desperate to erase the harsh look on her soft features. She shook her head. “Not me,” she said finally, haltingly. “One of my friends. Her husband beats her, I just know it, but she won’t say a thing against him. She won’t leave him or even try to get out of her marriage. She’s completely consumed by him. Under his total control. I won’t ever let that happen to me.”

  The relief that shuddered through him took Marc by surprise. He wasn’t happy she had to witness one of her friends in an unhealthy relationship, but he was glad she hadn’t suffered at the hands of some other man. He hated to think what he might have been driven to do if a man who’d hurt her still lived. One thing he knew for certain, such a man would not live for long, and he wouldn’t enjoy his last moments. Marc would make sure of that.

  “I don’t want to control you, Kelly. I want you to be my partner. My equal.”

  “Me, the equal of a six hundred year old vampire? Yeah, right. I’m as far out of your league as it’s possible to get, Marc.” She tried to pull out of his arms, but he wasn’t letting her go.

  “I think not.” He caressed her back, his hands making small circles. “I think you’re perfectly capable of playing in my league, as you put it. In fact, I think you outclass me by a mile. I’m the one who must work to be worthy of you, not the other way around. Won’t you give me the chance?”

  “Why? Why me?”

  She’d asked him that before, but he still didn’t have a good reason he could articulate. He only knew in his soul that it was so.

  “I know not,” he whispered, drawing her close. “I only know that I need you as I have needed no other woman in a very long time. I tried to stay away, but it’s impossible. I want your blood, but I also want your body. I want to make love to you until the dawn parts us. I want to drown in your essence and fill you with mine. It’s as basic and as complicated as that.”

  “And what about when you tire of me?” Her voice was small, almost smothered against his shoulder. “I don’t want a broken heart, Marc, and you could easily tear mine to shreds.”

  He kissed her temple lovingly. “I doubt I could tire of you within your lifetime, cherie. Suppose I promise to stay with you as long as you want me? That would give you the control over how long our relationship lasts, no?”

  She moved back just the tiniest bit to look into his eyes. “You would do that? You would yield part of your control to me?” She seemed stunned by the idea as he nodded. “But how can you know that you’d want me beyond the next week or two? We could be totally incompatible and yet you’d promise to be with me for as long as I want? It doesn’t make any sense, Marc.”

  He pressed her small hand to his heart. “But yet, it is how I feel. I’ve only known you a short time, but my heart feels as if it’s known you forever. It’s been waiting forever, just for you.”

  She backed off, and he let her go this time. “You’re scaring me, Marc. You’re beginning to sound the way Atticus does about Lissa.”

  His head shot up. “I do, don’t I?” He mused on that idea for a moment. “But yet, I am still unsure as to whether you could be the One, cherie. To be honest, I doubt I will ever find my one and only, but I do admit to feeling drawn to you as to no other woman before.”

  “How does a vampire know when he’s found his mate?”

  “I’ve heard tales, but Atticus told me that when he made love to Lissa for the first time, they joined more than just bodies. They joined minds and souls. She was in his thoughts as h
e was in hers.” Marc was filled with awe at the very idea. “It must be heaven itself.”

  “So if we had sex and it was just sex, then it would prove we’re not destined to be mates, right?”

  Marc looked back to her, regret in his heart. “That’s true. You either are my only one, or you’re not.” They both thought about that for a moment. It was a weighty concept.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  His eyes jumped to hers. “What exactly are you agreeing to, Kelly?”

  She met his gaze with resignation, a bit of daring and a lot of uncertainty. It was an odd mix, but he felt something similar down deep in his heart, so he understood. This was a monumental moment. He could feel it.

  “I can see how much this means to you and to be honest, I’m curious myself. I’m agreeing to have sex with you. Once.” She was emphatic on that point. “If it proves to be more than just sex, we can take it from there, but I’m not agreeing to anything more until that question is settled.”

  Marc’s blood heated as he stepped closer to her. “You do realize that when my kind makes love, we take the blood of our partners, don’t you? We need both physical and psychic sustenance and psi energies are strongest at the moment of climax. I will want to drink of your essence as I make you come for me.”

  She seemed nearly mesmerized by his words and the hot look of his eyes. Mutely, she nodded. Memories of her cries of delight in their shared dream haunted him. He wanted to hear that again, for real this time.

  “Then meet me in the burgundy bed chamber at midnight. I’ll hurry to take care of my other tasks for this evening beforehand so I can spend the rest of the night devoted to your pleasure. If you don’t appear, I’ll know that you’ve changed your mind.” He wanted to crow in triumph at the acceptance written on her features, but made an effort to control his emotions. It wouldn’t do to gloat. Or jump for joy, either. That would be highly undignified, even if he did feel giddy inside.