Benjamin sets down his teacup without taking a sip. “Very well. Explain, Lord Claude.”
Claude retracts his hand into his lap again, takes a moment to compose himself before speaking. “I believe that I gave the wrong impression at the Valentine’s Day Ball,” he says.“Miss Nora expressed that she has no interest in an intimate relationship.” He glances at me, so briefly I barely have time to register it before he’s looking at Benjamin again. “And it just so happens that our interests are aligned in that matter.”
I blink, studying his face for signs that he’s not being truthful, but his expression is frustratingly opaque.
“You seemed drawn to Nora at the ball,” Benjamin says.
“I was,” Claude says. “But it is not a romantic interest. What calls to me is her blood.”
I’m glad that he’s looking at Benjamin when he says it, because I’m sure that hurt is written all over my face. I stare down at my lap as I try to subdue it. There’s no reason for me to be offended by that. As he said, this is exactly what I want too. Isn’t it?
“I am interested in her as a valentine for one reason, and one reason only,” Claude says, digging the knife deeper into my chest with each word. “The taste of her blood makes me want to paint again. If I came off as desperate, it was only for that feeling. As I’m sure you’ve heard, I’ve been chasing it for a very long time now.”
There’s an odd sinking feeling in my gut. I dislike the idea of being any artist’s muse. Artists are so flighty; it’s always seemed a precarious position at best…
“Forgive me, I’m not sure I believe that,” Benjamin says.
Claude’s smile is so thin it almost looks pained, but he doesn’t appear surprised. “We’ll add it to our contract.”
Benjamin’s eyebrows leap nearly to his hairline. I’ve never seen him so taken aback. “What? You can’t honestly mean that.”
“I do,” Claude says. “We’ll have a clause stating that any intimate contact between us will violate the contract.”
I look between them, feeling like I’m missing something. “I mean, that sounds perfect to me…”
Benjamin leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed. “It would be… unusual. To say the least.”
“I don’t care about doing things the usual way,” Claude says. He folds his arms over his chest and looks at me. “I must still be allowed to bite you, of course. That will be excluded from acts of intimacy.”
“Fine with me,” I say after a beat.
“What about your sire?” Benjamin asks. “There was tension between the two of you at the ball.”
“He feared that Nora would be a distraction from my purpose, but I have reassured him that it is quite the opposite,” Claude says without batting an eye at the question. “If anyone is more disappointed in my lack of inspiration than I am, it would be Ambrose. He had such high hopes for me.”
“So youhavespoken to him on the matter,” Benjamin says. “I thought you didn’t require your sire’s permission?”
“I don’t,” Claude says, “but I do respect his opinion, and I am pleased to have his blessing in the matter.”
“And the Vulpe Court?”
Claude’s hands still briefly, and then he resumes spinning his ring. “I am confident they will follow my sire’s lead.”
After a moment’s thought, Benjamin excuses us to consider the offer. We step into the hallway, leaving Claude alone in the parlor, staring down at his untouched cup of tea.
“Well, what do you think?” Benjamin asks.
I hesitate. WhatdoI think? My thoughts are such a muddle, I can barely decipher them. As little as I want to admit it, part of me is drawn to Claude, but I’m not sure I cantrustthat part. I shut my eyes, try to tune out the confusing tangle of my emotions and focus on the practicalities. It’s easier to work things through without Claude’s damnably distracting face in front of me, but still far fromeasy.
“On paper, his offer sounds like exactly what I’ve been looking for,” I say. “But…”
“He’s exactly the kind of person you’ve been saying youdon’twant this entire time,” Benjamin finishes for me.
“Yet he offered to include an intimacy clause in the contract,” I say, nibbling my thumbnail. Benjamin’s face shifts at that, and I home in on him. “Would the others be willing to do the same?”
He clears his throat. “I… highly doubt it. It really would be unusual, Nora. I find it strange that he suggested it. I’m hesitant to even broach the subject with other vampires, because it would be offensive. And their courts would never approve. Valentine contracts are a serious matter.”
“But Claude is willing to do it,” I say. “So… he’s being honest about his intentions? He just wants me as a source of blood, and muse, which is…” I shrug, hoping my attempt at nonchalance looks convincing. “I can do that.”
