“No,” I say. “I know.” He’s so much worse, because I could see myself falling for it—falling for him. And that’s not something I can allow myself.
* * *
The next evening, Claude seems particularly distant. He brings me my coffee just how I like it, and a breakfast as decadent as always, but then he paces beside the table instead of sitting. As I eat, he stares off into space, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, without saying a word.
“Claude?” I venture after a few moments. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” he says, without looking at me.
I smooth over my napkin, just to give my hands something to do. Watching his antsy behavior is making me anxious. “We could try something else today, if you want,” I suggest. “Maybe you could use a break?”
He turns and looks at me, puzzled for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out what I’m talking about. Then he shakes his head. “Oh, no. Er, yes, I mean. It will be a break, I suppose.”
“…Huh?”
“I mean to say, we won’t be painting today. My sire is coming for a visit.”
“Oh.” My pulse quickens at the memory of Lord Ambrose at the ball, the hard look in his eyes when he studied me, the knee-locking power he exuded. “Should I—”
“You’re to stay in your room,” Claude says before I can even finish the question.
My mouth clicks shut. I raise my eyebrows at him, shocked at the way he just spoke to me, but Claude is avoiding my gaze. “But… why?” I ask. “I thought everything was fine. You said he knew about our arrangement…”
“Of course he does. Of course it’s fine. I just need some privacy with him. He’ll be here any minute.” When I still stand, unmoving, Claude finally looks at me. “I don’t have time for this right now.Please, Nora, just do this for me.”
I press my lips together. It’s obvious he’s not telling me something, and I remember Benjamin’s worry that there was something off about Ambrose from the start, but hispleaseis enough to make me relent, for now. “We’re going to talk about this afterward,” I warn him, heading for the door.
He waves a hand at me. When I glance back from the doorway, he’s pacing the room, running his hands through his hair, his jaw a tense line.
* * *
As I shut the door to my bedroom behind me, I stare around, uncertain what to do with myself. The walls feel restrictive, the time unfathomably long. What am I supposed to do with a full day of nothing?
There’s also a nagging anxiety in the back of my mind. Claude is a mercurial man, but his behavior today felt especially off. I can’t stop thinking about what Benjamin said.
After debating about it for a few minutes, I take out my phone and text him:Did you ever find out more about Lord Ambrose? He’s coming to visit today.
His response comes quicker than expected.Nothing. Please keep me updated. I can come immediately if you feel unsafe.
Unsafe? I chew my lip. I’m nervous for a reason I can’t quite put my finger on, but I have no reason to question my safety. I send Benjamin my assurances and tell him I’ll text him after the visit to let him know my read on the situation.
I do feel better knowing Benjamin is just a text away. I’m not used to having someone so reliable in my life. So unlike my mother, whostillhasn’t responded to my anxious stream of texts from before this whole valentine situation. It reminds me that it’s early enough in the evening to contact my friends. I flop onto my bed, open a video app, and call.
Sophie picks up immediately, her phone an inch from her face, giving me a lovely view up her nose. “Queen of my heart,” she says. “Are you finally calling me to let me know you’ve fallen madly in love with your vampire beau?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t even start. You haven’t even met the man, Sophie.” Though I know it would only be worse if she did. Both of my roomies would probably be swooning over Claude. His pretty face, the occasional smile that doesn’t reach his sad eyes, his long artist’s fingers… I grimace and shake the thought away. Icannotbe thinking of him like that.
“And whose fault is that?” Sophie asks. “Anyway, you best believe I looked him up the second I heard his name. Not a lot of photos on the internet, but those paintings would have me dropping my panties.”
“Sophie,” I groan. “Please stop.”
“Oh, right,” she says. “I’m probably making you jealous, because you’ve already fallen madly in love with him.”
I take a breath and count to five in my head. Before I trust myself to speak, Elaine joins the call.
“Hey,” she says. “I’m in the bathroom at work. What’s up?”
“Oh, just catching up! You can get back to work.”
